WARNING: This story -- a fictional one - contains sexually explicit parts involving sex between a minor and an adult. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now. Please note: I write these fictional stories for two reasons. 1) To help young gay people of a certain disposition to better understand themselves. 2) To help relieve the sexual tensions of those who are attracted to boys without resorting to actual association.

 

Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

 

Anyone wishing to contact me can do so at john.thestoryteller@gmail.com

 

Other stories on Nifty by John Teller/The Storyteller can be found here.

 

All rights reserved. All parts of these documents are Copyright 2012 John T. S. Teller, and may not be reproduced in any form without the author's consent. Nifty.org have permission to reproduce it on their website.

 

A small sermon. Nothing in life is free. Everything costs, and Nifty is no different, so please send them a couple of $'s/'s to cover costs and stuff. They're very discreet, and you won't get your name in lights if you do.

 

 

The only one smiling.

 

Part 3.

 

Greg was waiting at the window when he saw thirteen-year-old Chris walk into his drive wearing his green school blazer, grey slacks, and the heavy school bag on his shoulder. Chris saw Greg, gave him one of his gorgeous grins, and waved. Greg waved back and waited for the schoolboy to come in through the back door. It was Friday, July 20th. The last day of the school year, and Chris was staying with Greg for the weekend.

 

Greg had moved house since that fateful day when Chris first seduced him, to a secluded bungalow overlooking the cliffs of the North Cornish Coast. He'd chosen the place with care. It was secluded because Greg didn't want anybody knowing their business. A year after they first made love, Chris was a regular at his home. It had happened so naturally. Despite Chris being so young, Sophie and Tony had made their minds up that Chris would be what he would be, and if he and Greg were an item, then providing the pair did things properly and privately, then let them get on with it and let the affair run its course, thinking it would be a short affair while Chris was finding his gay feet, and then he would find partners more his own age as he got older. Very probably they were right, but until he was thirteen, Chris had never revealed any signs that he wanted anybody else but Greg. It was obvious that Greg worshipped the ground Chris walked on, and Chris also adored Greg. What Sophie and Tony weren't aware of was that when they were together and making love, it was as if Greg and Chris were the same age. The couple never mentioned the age difference, and four years on from that wonderful first time, they'd both become experienced lovers; each knowing what the other wanted to give or receive, and they did everything that was mutually desired.

 

Greg heard the door open and a half broken voice call to him, "Hey, lover, get your pants off. I've had a hard-on all the way here."

 

      Greg grinned, and called back, "You're sex mad you are. Anyway, you're late, and I've wanked off three times because I was fed up of waiting. I'm empty now."

 

      Chris came into the room. It was still the same Chris who Greg had made love to when he was nine, but with a few alterations. Chris was gay and proud of it. His hair was dyed a darker shade of blonde with a few blue streaks in it; and done in shortish emo style that didn't hide his beautiful features. He'd got over the stage of being bothered at school about his gayness, and had even turned the tables on his fellow pupils by openly boasting he was gay. If any of the older boys made fun of him, he just gave them the eye and told them to get their pants off so he could give them a blow job. Perhaps the fact that Chris was not a coward and was a damned good sportsman helped him. He was a super football (soccer) player and athlete. And he was built like one. He was a tall boy for his age, five-nine, about three inches shorter than Greg, but he still had that lithe, graceful body; he still had those long, coltish legs, and the cutest bubble butt imaginable, but he'd muscled out by then, and sported a nice six-pack. He often boasted he'd got that by flexing his muscles when he was on top of Greg, fucking his mouth until he filled it with his sweet boy spunk that he could produce in copious amounts by then.

 

When Chris saw Greg, he gave him another massive grin, dropped his school bag, came into Greg's waiting arms, and gave him the most passionate, sexy kiss he'd had for two weeks. That's how long it had been since they were last together, and it showed when he broke the kiss, stared into his lover's eyes, and said, "God, I've missed you Greg!"

 

       Greg smiled back into his eyes, and said, "Not as much as I've missed you. Has anybody ever told you that you're the most beautiful boy in the world?"

 

      Chris laughed that beautiful laugh. "Reynolds in the sixth told me that today."

 

      Greg giggled. "And what did you tell him?"

 

      "That he was right."

 

Greg laughed. "You'd best get showered if you want me to kiss your ass."

 

Chris made googly eyes at him. "I want more than that. I've been told off twice today for not paying attention. I was off with the fairies thinking about that big dick of yours right inside me."

 

Greg pushed him away and patted his cute bum. "Go and get showered, and shout me when you're ready." He drank a cold beer while he was waiting for Chris to bathe, never without a smile on his face while his boy was making a hell of a racket singing while he showered. He heard the shower stop, all go quiet, and he knew what Chris was doing. He always did it. He was preening himself, adding a touch of mascara to his eyelashes; a dab of lipstick: Eau de Parfum -- his favourite deodorant. The days of Brut for Men had long gone once Chris accepted he was the feminine part of what they were. Then Greg heard him call, "Come on lover!"

 

      The sight of his beautiful boy when he was naked never failed to stir his senses. He'd been right all those years ago when he thought Chris would have a dick to be proud of when he got older. Although thinner than Greg's, his gorgeous dick was almost as long: six inches of perfection that matched the shape of his body. There wasn't a pubic hair in sight, not because Chris didn't have any, but because he knew Greg loved his boyishness, and he kept himself shaved at all times. Also, as he lay on the bed on his back, he wasn't smiling; a sign to Greg that he needed his special loving, and when Chris held out a hand to his lover to join him, Greg didn't even bother taking his clothes off before getting on the bed and on top of Chris. They stared into each other's eyes for a while; Chris stroking Greg's face, and running his fingers through his hair. And then the kiss. The kiss was always the most beautiful moment. It was their coming together, not sexually, but spiritually. They loved each other passionately, and the kiss was their way of telling each other that they did. Sometimes, when they'd not been able to be together for a while, the kiss was so emotional that it reduced them both to tears. Oh yes, despite the difference in their ages, Chris and Greg loved each other with an unbelievable passion.

 

      After a while of kissing passionately and telling each other how much they'd missed being together, and how much they loved each other, Chris pushed Greg's head down to his nipples: the beginning of their lovemaking. Greg knew every erogenous zone on his boy's perfect body; what reaction each would have on him; when it was time to move on to the next one. Chris had hold of Greg's head as he moved it from one nipple to the other, waiting for him to nibble and suck each one to maximum erection, and then he pushed Greg's head down to kiss his tummy, and then, very slowly, down his lower abdomen until Greg could get his erect dick into his mouth. The beauty of Greg loving his boy's dick while he was still growing had given them both an advantage. He'd had four years of learning to take every inch of Chris's dick, and could deep throat him easily by the time he was thirteen, and young Chris wasn't far behind in the deep-throat stakes. On this occasion, Chris's hormones were in full swing, and it took just a few moments of Greg sucking his dick before he made his customary squeals of pleasure and squirted his sweet boy spunk into Greg's throat, and Greg swallowed every drop of it before squeezing every last drop from his slit when it was over. Then it was fawning time: Chris's way of telling Greg that he belonged to him and no other. It was time to just fondle and have fun. Until he became randy again, usually about ten minutes after he'd climaxed. Greg moved up the bed, puffed up the pillows, and leaned back against the headboard. That had a purpose. Chris loved undressing Greg, and while he was sipping his half-empty bottle of beer, Chris undid his zip and pulled his dick out. Naturally, it was oozing precum, and Chris played with it, rolling it around the swollen knob, and occasionally licking it as it oozed out. Because Greg hadn't had Chris for two weeks, and because his boy was doing such a good job down there, he had plenty to play with. But Chris also had fun putting Greg's dick in his mouth and gently biting it with his beautiful, white teeth. Greg rapped him on the head when he nipped it too hard, which made Chris giggle and look up at Greg with his gorgeous eyes. Greg smiled at him and pushed him back down again to let him know he wanted more. But Chris decided he wanted something else, and when he leaned back and got the KY, Greg knew exactly what he was going to do. Chris was in one of his extra-randy moods, and he wasn't gentle when he got up and pulled off all Greg's clothes and threw them on the floor. Then he applied lots of KY on Greg's dick and up his own bum, and scooted over Greg until he was sitting on the end of his knob. Greg held his dick firm, and Chris lowered himself onto it while Greg watched every inch of his seven inches disappearing into his boy until he was firmly speared on the swollen dick.   

 

 

The first time it had happened was when Chris was eleven. He made Greg do it. Because there was a fun-fair in town, he'd managed to persuade his mum to spend a weekend with the man he loved. They never got to the fun-fair, but they had more than their share of fun at Greg's home. By that age, Greg was finger-fucking him and using a slim dildo regularly. Chris's prostate had developed and was giving him pleasures he had never dreamed existed. But Greg had never fucked him. For Greg, it was the final violation of his boy's gorgeousness, and he wanted to wait until he was old enough to appreciate pleasure and not pain. They'd had their anal moments though; Greg sticking the end of his knob just inside Chris's bum hole to ejaculate. But that weekend, Chris made his mind up to go the whole way. Greg sensed something was amiss when he tried to suck Chris off, but he was having none of it and asked Greg to ejaculate in his bum hole right away. So with Chris on his back with his knees drawn up to his chest, Greg began the sex play. Greg was supporting himself with both hands placed above and at the side of Chris's head while Chris manipulated his dick, and because he loved seeing himself spurt into his boy and the spunk flood out of his little hole, he was watching what was happening down there. But he noticed Chris was doing something different this time; really working Greg's swollen knob on his anus, and stretching it wider than normal. Then it happened. Chris suddenly pushed his body down and pulled Greg's dick into him at the same time, and he watched his knob slip through the anal ring, and it retract to trap him inside. Greg was worried that it might be giving his boy pain, but when he looked at his face, the huge grin on it waived any worries he had that he was hurting. In fact, Chris looked like a cat that had swallowed the cream when he giggled, and said, "Gotcha!"

 

      Greg frowned at him. "Naughty boy!"

 

      Another giggle. "Too late now. I told you I'd made you do it one day. Now stop being an idiot, and push it in." So Greg did, enjoying the sight of four inches of his dick disappearing into the tight, hot, virgin, eleven-year-old boy tunnel. And then Chris stopped him, and nodded. "There. Just there," he said. Greg knew exactly what he meant, and why. His knob was rubbing over Chris's prostate. He stopped watching his dick doing its stuff, and instead watched Chris's face almost crying with pleasure as he worked his knob over the small boy's passion gland. And then it happened. Chris closed his eyes and let out his hyena-like crying noise that told Greg he was reaching his peak, and when he looked down and saw the clear boy spunk Chris was making at that age oozing from his piss slit, it was too much for him, and he unloaded his own hot spunk deep inside Chris while he was climaxing. It was without doubt, the sexiest moment they'd ever had, and for the whole of that weekend, Chris followed Greg around like a love-struck puppy dog for what he'd done in helping him achieve that special milestone in his life. Above all things, Greg's eleven-year-old special boy wanted to be fucked like Madonna, and Greg had done exactly that for him.

 

 

That was over two years ago, and now the four inch insertion had become the full seven inches, right in as far as Greg's pubes when Chris began to ride him like a horse. Chris loved that big dick deep inside him, and Greg loved watching his boy enjoying himself. Chris's eyes were closed; he was making nasal noises of contentment and almost talking to himself as he manipulated Greg's dick deep inside him to give him the greatest pleasure. Then his climax, and with his eyes still closed, Chris made his hyena-laughing noises, and Greg watched and felt him spurt six globules of his creamy, hot boy spunk onto his belly, and as Chris's senses dulled as he came off his high, the residue of his produce slowly oozed from his slit and down the sides of his dick. Then, after he'd shuddered and let out a loud sigh of relief, he looked at Greg with a disappointed look on his face, and asked, "Why didn't you cum?"

 

Greg massaged the warm boy spunk into the skin of his belly, and then grinned at him. "I told you. I was so hot for you that I couldn't wait, so I wanked myself off three times this morning."

 

      Chris rolled his eyes. "That's crap! Now tell me why you didn't cum!"

 

Greg ran his fingers down Chris's chest, and around his lower abdomen. "Sorry. I was in love-mode."

 

Chris frowned. "Aren't you feeling sexy?"

 

Greg nodded. "Yes, but I was just thinking how lucky I was to have you. I'm almost forty, and you're thirteen. It's not supposed to happen like this."

 

Another frown. "But we love each other!"

 

"I know, and that's the part that's not supposed to happen. That's why I was enjoying looking at you rather than thinking about sex."

 

Chris pouted his lips. "But that means I think more about sex than I think about loving you?"

 

"No. You're a randy, hormonal early teenager, and you'd be weird if sex didn't dominate your life at the moment. That doesn't mean you don't love me. When we've had sex, you're the most loving person in the world. We're just different. There's nothing wrong with that. Anyway, I get as much pleasure out of satisfying you sexually as you get from me doing it. I just love you so much, Chris."

 

Chris smiled. "I know. Sometimes, after we've done it, when we're cuddling, I often wish I could just crawl inside you and pop out just to have you fuck me."

 

Greg laughed. "Sort of genie in a bottle?"

 

Chris scrunched up his nose. "Something like that... but I'd pop out from your lovely dick." They both laughed, and then Chris said, "I'm not getting off you until you fill me, so unless you want to lie there all day with that smirk on your face, you'd better get to work."

 

Greg giggled, and stroked Chris's still erect dick. That was something else that happened with Chris. While Greg was still inside him, unless they'd had a marathon fucking session, his dick never went soft until Greg pulled out of him. Greg rolled Chris's foreskin off his knob, and then, still coupled together, he grabbed Chris, rolled him onto his back and pulled his knees onto his chest. Because he knew he was going to get a real good fucking, Chris smirked. Greg smirked back, and then pounded his arse so hard that Chris had to put his hands on the headboard to stop himself being knocked up the bed.

 

 

The first time they coupled to the full depth was the day after Chris's twelfth birthday. It was Greg who wanted this sexual experience initially, pushing past Chris's prostate to the second sphincter, and then asking for Chris's permission to go deeper. So Chris accepted the pain that came with that first inexperienced time just to please the man he loved. He'd read that you had to relax completely to allow entry, and that's what he tried to do to get Greg's dick right inside him. It wasn't comfortable for Chris (comfort came later when he was more experienced, and also became his own need once he got to appreciate the wonder of feeling full of his lover) but he managed it and allowed Greg to bottom out in him and fill the very depths of what he was with spunk, and afterwards they talked about the experience.

 

 

The headboard was banging against the wall and sweat was pouring from Greg's brow as his lower belly slapped against Chris's butt when he was fucking him, and Chris was doing magical things with his internal muscles to manipulate Greg's dick inside his hot tunnel when, with a deep shudder, Greg filled him with his pent up spunk, and just as he did, Chris climaxed again, ejaculating a few more spurts of spunk onto his own belly. When it was over, Greg collapsed onto Chris, who wrapped his legs around Greg's waist, and they loved each other passionately for a long time.  

 

 

If this sounds as if all they did was have sex, nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, sex was an integral part of what they were, but when they weren't having sex, they were two normal people in love. They read books together; played games together; joked and laughed, and generally did what two people who're devoted to one another do. They swam in the sea when it was warm, walked hand in hand along the sands at dusk, kissed whenever they were alone -- just gentle kisses to reaffirm their love, made plans for the future, talked about Greg's work and Chris's education, teased each other whenever a good looking bloke went by or a shapely boy was in the vicinity; all these things they did and enjoyed. Boy loves man -- man loves boy is the most beautiful of all loves. Normal couples perhaps take their love for granted. They never did that. It was if they recognised that they had something special, only gifted to the very few. When Chris stayed over, in the evenings he would strip naked and lie on the hearthrug just so Greg could stroke and fondle his beauty. Neither he nor Greg had an erection while they were doing it. Chris would take Greg's hand and place it wherever he felt he needed to be fondled, even on his soft dick that didn't go hard when Greg was doing it. Then he would turn over and let Greg kiss him entirely from the tips of his toes to the soft hair on his head, occasionally turning his face up to allow Greg to kiss his sweet, soft lips. And the reverse would happen. Chris doted on Greg's body as much as Greg did his. But Chris was more childish, and had fun making Greg giggle by dwelling on his ticklish spots. Yes, it often happened that after they'd had a long session of exploring each other they would make mad, passionate love, but that was more a confirmation of what they were when complete.

 

      But they didn't live in each other's pockets. Oh no! Chris spent far, far more time away from Greg than with him. He had a normal family life at home, went on holidays abroad with his own family, and played football (soccer) with his many school chums. Greg had his own life, too. He enjoyed his work, went to the pub, visited his parents and brother and sister, got half-drunk occasionally, and loved working in his garden and doing things around the house. But always the icing on the cake was when they would be seeing each other. Sometimes, when there was good film on at the cinema, Chris would telephone and ask Greg to take him. So Greg would go along, get on well with his family, go to the cinema, and then on the way home they'd make love whatever way they could, wherever they could. They had a favourite place they went to during winter; a disused farm track out in the country that was sheltered from prying eyes by its solitude. It was there that they fucked rather than a quick blow job or a secret mutual wank in a car park. And when they got home far later than they should have done, neither Sophie nor Tony ever questioned what they'd been doing. During the summer, Chris would telephone Greg and ask him to pick him up from school. He'd arranged it with his parents of course, and they'd go to Greg's house, have tea, and then make love, and afterwards love each other for a couple of hours before Greg took him home, sometimes at ten at night.

 

There were other things they did, too. Greg was now one of a team of automotive designers for a Japanese car maker, and he was asked to submit a design for the interior of a new model. He gave a lot of thought to what he wanted to do, but it was during one of the times when he was stroking Chris's back on the hearthrug that the inspiration came to him. He started to giggle, and Chris asked why he was doing it. Greg explained what he'd been asked to do, and said that while he was looking at Chris's body, an idea came into his head that he'd like to design it with the gentle curves of his boy lover. Chris was all for it, and they spent three entire weekends full of fun and laughter and sex while they were discussing Greg's drawings and plans. Eventually, he submitted them, and after some deliberation and a few alterations and additions from the other members of the team, his design was accepted. From drawings to the real thing took a year, and then the wonderful day when they went together to a local showroom to look at one of the cars on sale. Chris's perfect, curved buttocks formed the top of the dashboard instrument panel, and when they sat in the back seat, the view of the gear lever and the twin cup-holders immediately in front of it looked like Chris's dick and balls. It was a fun day.

 

Then there was another time when Chris was going on holiday to Spain with his family. Again he was lying on the hearthrug -- this time on his back -- when Greg used a red wash-pen to draw a line across his lower belly. Chris looked at him, and asked, "What's that for?"

 

Greg grinned. "I'm designing your speedos."

 

"Speedos! I don't wear speedos! I like Bermuda shorts!"

 

Greg winked at him. "That's cruel. You've got the most beautiful body imaginable, and it would be an absolute crime not to show it to the world, so you're wearing speedos this time!"

 

Chris giggled. "But I'll have all the pervs on the beach ogling me!"

 

Greg winked. "That's the idea. You always have been a flirt, so stop moaning, and when you come back you can tell me about all the men who've had their tongues hanging out and panting like dogs looking at you."

 

"Won't you be jealous?"

 

Greg shrugged his shoulders. "No. I can always find another boy if I want one."

 

Chris snorted. "Swine! Design the speedos and I'll tell you how many men's dicks I've had up me when I get back!"

 

And they laughed when they went to the sports shop to choose three pairs of the briefest of brief speedos. When Chris came back from holiday, after they'd made love, he had Greg doubled over with laughter describing all the men who he'd had, but when Greg kissed the whiteness below his tan-line, and said, "Liar! This is virgin territory. Those speedos have never been off, even to catch the sun, never mind for somebody to fuck you! Anyway, this part of you belongs only to me. Am I right?"

 

Chris grinned, and nodded. "I think I've had my picture taken secretly dozens of times, and I lost count of the looks I got from some men. At one point I thought about going naked and drawing on my bottom: Keep your eyes off. This is Greg's bum."

 

And Greg made sure it was for the next hour, and Greg's Bum was highly pleased that it was.

 

 

That was their life, until one fateful day just after Chris's 15th birthday. But I'll tell you about that in the next part; the final part of this story of love between a man and a boy.

 

To be continued...

 

 You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.