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Of Dads, Sons And Razor Strops
Almost The Other SIde Of The Tracks
PJ Franklin <>


A tale of lust in five chapters …

Chapter 1

We had little in common except our ages and our first names and even those were a bit different. I was christened Randell with an "e," Randy for short; He was christened Randall with an "a," also Randy for short.

I lived almost on the other side of the tracks from what was considered the poor white-trash side of town with my widowed father, my mom died of a drug overdose when I was five. He lived in an upscale neighborhood on the well-to-do side of town with his father, an attorney and his mother, a primary school teacher.

I could be kept awake at night either by the noisy freight trains screaming in close proximity to my bedroom window or by the eerie reflections of red and blue strobes from one or more police cruisers answering disturbances as close as next door. I imagined his neighborhood quiet and serene a police car nary to be found.

I played football and was captain of the wrestling team (junior varsity at the time), but couldn't remember the first ten presidents of the United States to save my soul for a quiz in freshman U.S. history. He was captain of the debate team his last two years of high school and our class president during our sophomore year.

I took the bus to school every day packing a brown paper bag lunch to save money, he drove his own car to school starting his junior year and paid cash at the cafeteria register for his lunch. If we shared a rare academic class now and again over our high school years I would always sit on the last row trying not to be noticed and sometimes nodded off to sleep. He was always sitting close to the front and constantly raising his hand to give a ready answer.

If I got caught sleeping in class, sometimes the teacher would send me to the Dean's office where Mr. Smith would either lecture me or paddle me but usually both. That always meant a referral slip sent home to give to my dad and that usually meant a spanking. I had seen him and Dean Smith on many occasion talking, smiling and laughing in the hallways together.

Our only consistent common class together that played to my strengths and not to his was when I wasn't playing fall sports and attended normal late winter and spring term physical education with him and the other non-sporty boys. I was six foot one, enjoyed lifting weights in the gym weight room and loved running, short or long distances. He was five foot eight if that and compared to me, a skinny little runt and I doubt he could lift more than a small dumbbell and if so pump it with minimal repetitions.

During those P.E. classes I could easily out jump, out run, out rope climb, do more push-ups, sit-ups and do anything you want in the gym without breaking a sweat. He looked lost in a gym, seemed to try his best but obviously hated running and on that one memorable occasion tried to get out of running laps by hiding in one of the tree thickets that surrounded the school running track and got caught.

In those days, P.E. and team coaches had paddles and used them. Me and my teammates got our share of bare butt paddle swats during fall sports when our minds weren't solidly in the practice or game. Coach Mack's shoulder got a good work out motivating a select few of us guys, including me but it was always just during non-school team practice hours and privately bragged over between us jocks.

The regular P.E. boys got paddle swats as well, sometimes by the bushel basket. Just because they weren't athletes did not get them off the hook and especially if they got caught slacking. As I said, Randy with an "a" got caught hiding in a tree thicket one late afternoon in our junior year trying to avoid having to run the track after a kind of clumsy effort at playing flag football.

I had been the captain of my flag football side that afternoon and had chosen Randy for my team for one reason and one reason only and it wasn't because he could play the game for squat. I had taken a liking to him. We didn't know each other all that well yet but he was as cute as a bug and it affected me in an innocent way before I even knew that a boy wasn't supposed to be looking at another boy that way.

Coach Mack was pissed. I was at the lead of the runners as usual and approaching him and a distraught Randy as Coach yelled,

"Wells, you will get your ass around that track proto if you don't want me to fetch my paddle and nail your skinny butt right out here in front of God and everyone! As it is you'll be meeting your maker after showers."

I stopped running forward, trotted in place and looked at Randy. He looked terrified. All of the non-sporty boys who got bare butt public paddlings in P.E. always looked scared, he looked heart-attack afraid and that got to me.

"Hey Coach, I'll help catch him up," distracting the big man from his disgruntled tirade. Coach looked at me and smiled,

"Thanks Bennett," he sighed and even patted my shoulder before he ran off to urge on other marginal performing boys towards the end of the long line of trudging runners.

Wells looked devastated as he started to run faster to try to catch up to the tail of the last of the boys far ahead of him.

"First time getting caught?" I asked him keeping pace. He didn't want to look me in the eye, he just nodded, shame and dread of his future public punishment all over his face.

"Come on, I'll pace you, you keep up with me Randy. You should have enough wind to at least make it to middle of the pack by the finish. Coach won't notice you then," and without thinking gave him a pretty good spank on his back-side just like we jocks do to each other during practices and games just because that's what jocks do.

At first I thought I had offended him, but he reached back and rubbed the sting with a funny look on his face. He even smiled and said, "Thanks, Randy" back to me. It sounded weird to me hearing your own name out loud from another guy who had the same name too.

He followed me and just on the last quarter of the final lap of running had crossed the finish line without garnering any more frowns from Coach. We stood there, him bent over, his hands on his knees huffing and puffing to catch up on oxygen, but looked really pleased with himself. I stood by his side barely winded.

"See, you did great!" I praised him not thinking anything of it. He looked up at me and efforted a bright smile, "Thanks, I didn't think I could do that," and looked genuinely excited, even a little giddy.

Then we heard Coach's bellowing to get our butts back to the lockers to shower. Randy's face fell, his brief triumph concluded. He stood upright, his head down no doubt dreading his impending public punishment.

"You can do it, I know you can," I encouraged him. He gave me a weak smile as we took off trotting back to the lockers.

I kept myself behind Randy to give the appearance that he was running harder than he really was while Coach was watching at the door barking at the boys to get their butts inside "on the double."

He let Randy by giving him but a slight scowl of disapproval but smiled at me,

"Thanks Bennett. Good job out there with slow-poke Wells. I appreciate it," and Coach gave me an affectionate swat of his wood clip board on my rear. It made me smile, the slight sting of it riling me up a little as such things always did.

The lockers were always loud, but louder when the boys knew one of their own was to face Coach's dreaded paddle. They would ordinary linger about after showers to watch the miscreant get his butt burnt sometimes gathering about the victim in small groups to give him a bad time about it.

Though it was usually good natured towards a boy who was a seasoned veteran of grabbing ankles in public yet again, things could get kind of rude if a boy was a first timer and on this occasion, the sharks smelt blood, Randy Wells' blood. My locker was in the jock area way on the other side of the room from Randy's; but that day instead of hanging out there, I planted myself right at the end of Randy's row not hardly six foot from him.

All of the non-sporty boys tried their best to hide their nakedness from the looks of others, not me. I had plenty to be proud of in all departments and if a boy wanted to check my naked ass out, more power to him. So I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for anyone to say just one thing to Randy.

Oh, he got some looks, but not for two seconds before I scowled and glared them away. I followed Randy into the showers and then took my usual spot under the best showerhead in the tiled room, unchallenged as usual.

Suddenly there was Randy by my side, having slipped by a couple boys who I saw out the corner of my eye had given him knowing smirks. I couldn't resist and checked him out using my height at advantage. Damn he was cute naked. His little ass and all and I still didn't know then why I was looking at him that way.

The strange part was that I caught him looking at me as well, maybe not for as long. Anyway, showers ended and the drying area and lockers were buzzing again from a few boys getting ready to head out, but most thinking they were going to get to see a virgin get his very first bare ass paddle swats.

"You think you're hanging around to watch something? Think again! BEAT IT!" I barked at some fully dressed ne'er-do-wells. They scrambled away as if their lives depended on it and word spread quickly that Randy Bennett, me, was gonna kick the ass of any idiot who dared to stick around.

"Where did all the sheep go?" Coach puzzled as he walked down the row holding his paddle and approached Randy and me.

"The big bad wolf must have scared them off Coach," I grinned.

"That so? OK, let's get down to business then Mr. Wells. You owe me three big ones mister. I don't ever want to catch you again messing around like that, understand?"

"Yes Coach," Randy said trembling as he looked at the dreaded paddle in Coach's fist.

"OK, drop that towel, step out there in the corridor, bend over and grab your ankles," Coach instructed.

Randy gulped and did as he was told. I stood by with a towel around my waist on account I knew what was going to happen to me as I watched and it did. Coach lined Randy up and swatted his ass hard. Randy winced and yelped a little. Behind the towel my cock jumped up to attention just as I expected it would.

Randy Wells yelped loudly after the second swat and on the third, he yelled out even louder and did as all first timers did, jumped up holding his sore cheeks in both palms as he hopped around a bit, his head thrown back, his face in pain.

Coach shook his head and rolled his eyes at me, "OK Wells. Make sure you pick up your note to take to your parents before you leave."

"Yes sir," Randy said and stopped hopping long enough to look at his red cheeks. He looked up at me. I was staring as well as hiding my boner under my towel.

"How did I do?" he asked seemingly unembarrassed now by his nakedness, but we were alone.

"You did great. Tell you a secret. Most times when Coach gets pissed off at us during practice? He can send even me to the showers tears down my face," and I wasn't lying or putting on airs for Randy just then.

He smiled, "Um … thanks, you know, for … " and I held up my hand,

"No problem. Let's get dressed and get out of here," I said walking double time away from him and towards the privacy of a bathroom toilet stall.

Inside the stall I dropped my towel to my feet and started to enjoy the fleshy lust in my fist, taking a little time until I was enveloped by a heavenly rapture that muddied the clear toilet bowl water with my juices. By the time I left the gym and headed to my next class, Randy was gone.

After my last class that afternoon, I went to stand in line to get on the bus to go home.

"Bennett!" I heard behind me as well as the honk of a car horn. I looked around. Randy Wells was waving at me to come to his car.

I needed to get on the bus, Dad hated it when I missed the bus and after too many misses could result in a trip to the garage to meet my own maker, Dad's razor strop. Talk about bringing tears to a boy's eyes.

I hesitated and ran to his car, "I'm gonna be late! Make it quick please," I said to Randy.

"Get in! I'll drive you home," he offered. I looked back, the bus door was closed anyway so I hopped in,

"Whew. Thanks. I think I'm on my last miss before dad gets fed up."

"Oh?" he asked and I told him how my dad uses the razor strop to keep me on the ol' straight and narrow. I didn't feel any shame in telling him. I didn't blush, but Randy Wells did a little as he drove and I described the process in unashamed detail.

"So, do you get spankings at home from your dad?" I asked as if it was normal.

"No, my parents don't believe in spanking," he said.

"You're lucky then. What about coach's note?" I saw it sitting on the seat. He chuckled,

"That stunt of mine was ridiculous. I don't know what I was thinking, but dad won't know what to do with the note, mom either. I never brought one home before."

I ask him how his butt felt, he said it was "all right" but I did catch him squirming some in his seat. Nothing much more was said about it all as he drove me home.

"You ever been on this side of town before?" I asked him as I saw a bit of worry in his face as well as his quickly darting eyes.

"No, but it doesn't look so bad," he said cautiously.

Soon, he dropped me off just as my school bus was coming around to my corner. I waved good-bye, headed down the sidewalk to my house glancing at a two police cruises that were stopped in front of a house that often had loud angry voices coming from within.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 2

I never could stay away from dad's strop for very long during my high school years. My daddy believed in education and as far as he could see, his son though being a good athlete was never going to get a sports scholarship to go to college.

I was going to have to do it the old-fashioned way making good grades to prevent me from following in dad's footsteps at the food processing plant. He even forbid me to get a job during high school when I was sixteen to grease the process. Well, he could grease all he wanted, I still struggled all the way through.

It was just a few weeks later after Randy Wells got his first ever paddling in high school found me sitting with my dad in front of the Dean's office desk. I was so far behind in school grades that they were threatening to hold me back.

The trouble with that was that I had promised dad that I would get my grades up to at least passable that term and had broken my promise. I had to confess to him that I had slacked off, hung around with my jock buddies too often and in general was now facing a good hard whipping after I got home from the meeting with the Dean to discuss by bleak academic future.

I felt bad, real bad. My head was way low, my hands in my lap. I hated letting dad down, just hated it and yet I had done it, again. The guilt felt awful as the Dean detailed my many deficiencies and with each, dad sighed and would cast me a disapproving glance.

Suddenly, Randy Wells popped into the office unannounced, the door having been left open a bit,

"Oh sorry Mr. Smith," Randy startled holding a pile of papers, "I didn't know you had business. I'll come back later," and I lifted my head up, now doubly embarrassed in front of him.

"Is that the committee notes for school council? The Dean asked Randy.

"Yes sir," he smiled as I looked back down desperate that he not know why I was in the Dean's office with my Dad and wishing he would quickly leave.

"Let's take a look real quick," he said and Randy gave him the papers while I was dying of shame.

"Looks great. You're a whiz with that typewriter Randy, thanks!" Dean said.

"I know it's none of my business sir, but … can I ask why Bennett is here with his, I presume, father?"

Oh God! I wanted to slip under Mr. Smith's desk and hide.

"Are you Mr. Bennett, Randy's dad?" Randy with an "a" stuck out his hand.

"Why yes I am, and you are?" dad shook Wells' offered hand.

"I'm Randy Wells, one of your son's classmates. Is there a problem with Randy?" he boldly asked.

My dad seemed flustered, but answered, "Well yes. My son here is about to be flunked back a grade. I am not very happy with him at all."

I looked at my feet, I had never felt so small and helpless in front of another boy in my life.

"Oh. Well look, I've got a lot of free time. I'm a pretty good tutor in most all subjects. If it would help, I would be proud you help your son Mr. Bennett. He helped me out at an important time not long ago. I'd be grateful to pay him back this way."

I looked up. Randy didn't look haughty or proud, just humble. Our eyes met for just a second but all I saw was honest boy-to-boy empathy.

"Well, anything to keep him from falling back would be appreciated. Randy?" Dad looked at me.

I nodded, "Yes, yes, please. Thanks!" I responded and even managed a smile. So that's how it started. I was put on academic probation with strict goals to be met before the end of the school year.

That solved one major problem, but I still faced punishment back home for having broken my promise with my dad. Randy Wells held back from walking with us as we left the Dean's office I was sure to spare me more embarrassment, but I stopped,

"Wait a minute Dad," and dad stopped with me. I turned,

"Randy, you have some time the rest of the day?"

"Well sure I do," he answered actually looking a bit hopeful or maybe it was just the way I was feeling at the moment. I looked at Randy and then at dad,

"Dad, is it OK if Randy comes over to witness my whipping? That is if he would honor me by being there," and I looked at both of them.

I don't know who was more shocked looking, dad or Randy. At any rate, it was kind of humorous when they both answered at the same time to the effect,

"Well sure … yes … I mean if your dad doesn't mind … if he has the time, he's welcome to son" both of them a little flustered at my unusual request.

I ended up riding with Randy to my house instead of with dad, a trip I will never forget. We sat side by side in his car a long silent moment before he started it up,

"You know when you scared all those idiots away in the gym before Coach paddled me?"

"Yea, sure I do."

"That was the only thing that kept me from running from that locker room maybe getting me in bad trouble with the Dean's office."

"I hated that they would be looking at you."

"You looked at me," he commented with a small smile.

"Yes, well. That's partly why I needed to have you watch dad whip my ass. Fair is fair."

"Can I tell you something and not have you get angry with me?"

I looked at him, "Well sure. After all this, I could never be angry with you."

He grinned, "It's not easy with us both having the same first name but oh well," and he lost his grin,

"After you walked off to get dressed I needed to pee really bad," and he paused. I got real nervous.

"I got to the bathroom a few moments after you did. I opened the door … I … heard something … I saw a pair of ankles and a bunched up towel behind a stall door … then I heard nothing that sounded like peeing."

OH shit. I just sat there now shaking a little as well as blushing in my seat like there was a bon-fire on the car's dash and closed my eyes.

" … I … didn't stay. I got dressed. I went back home to my own room and took off all my school clothes. I went to my own bathroom … made sure to lock the door," and then he looked down at his hands in his lap, a funny tiny knowing grin on his handsome face as I dared now to peek at him.

"I did the same thing … that I thought you did. Thought you should know," and then he started the car and drove us out of the parking lot, my head reeling almost as bad as when you get tackled in football and get your bell rung.

We got to my house and Randy looked way more nervous than me; but after what he had told me in the car, I was bursting my buttons to show him how much I appreciated my dad's effort to help me, no matter it wasn't every dad's or even his dad's way.

Dad knew we were home, "Hello again Randy. Maybe you could stay for dinner after?" he asked very differentially. I looked and nodded my anxious approval.

"Sure! I'd love to!" he beamed and I was truly excited.

"Good. Now, the hard part first. Randy, take … um .. Randy there to the garage. You know what to do son," Dad said and I waved him to follow me and we talked about him tutoring me,

"Listen, you got a ton of friends at school. Boys and girls hover around you all the time and the look on the Dean's face, you must be friends with half the teachers as well. I don't want to take up your free time," as we entered the garage.

"Well, thank you. I have plenty of friends, and yes, I've even had dinner with the Dean and his wife at his house, but … " and he paused and swallowed, "… in a way, you're the only one that knows me better than my own parents," he said softly as we now stood in our destination.

The garage was cool, even a bit cold. Randy's head was a bit down, I think his bold and unexpected confession though needful and sincere had rattled even him in the saying of it out loud.

"Then that makes two of us. I have plenty of jock friends and I've had dinner with Coach at his house and all, but none of them knows everything about me, not even my dad," and suddenly the room got a lot warmer.

I didn't look at him just then, I just stripped naked and then went and got the razor strop and pulled out the sawhorse because it was what I always did.

"See, I have to straddle and bend over the length of it, hold on and dad strops my bottom with this," and proudly held out the strop for Randy to take and inspect.

His face was red as he took it and I looked down and saw why. My dick was hard as nails as I handed him the strop.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry. This always happens during my whippings. Dad just ignores it, told me once it was natural and not to worry" and was about cover myself.

"No, don't cover it," he said kind of sheepishly and stood up a bit taller and looked down at himself. He was tenting his trousers quite well.

I just smiled and took the strop back. Just then, dad came into the garage and Randy made sure to hide his evidence as he stepped back and out of the way.

Dad made short work of me that afternoon. Randy stood in back of me as Dad gave me a howling good ass whipping, I mean a real doozy. I knew he would, I wanted him to, I deserved it. I had made dad out to feel like a fool for trusting me and I wanted him to make me cry like a little boy and teach me a lesson in front of my friend that would help me never to do it again.

The fact was however that though I howled with each hard lick as I usually did, I was used to the licks and the pain. Oh, it hurt, but I seldom cried over it anymore except sometimes at the end when he was done whipping my can and the relief would flood in after he let me stand.

Well, it got over and I felt a few tears coming on as usual as I stood and ready to hug my daddy as we always did afterwards when I looked at Randy. His face was a picture of horror.

I looked down just as he did, he had this huge wet spot on the front of his trousers as if he had just peed himself. Only it wasn't pee. I quickly hugged my Dad turning his back to Randy,

"Daddy! Thank you for my punishment, I love you daddy, I won't let you down again, I promise," and kissed his temple while my hand was waving for Randy to get the hell out of the garage.

He fled and I finished my hug, "I love you too Randy, but what got into him?"

"Oh, we probably scared the living daylights out of him. His old man doesn't spank him at all," I grinned nervously worried to death over my friend.

Dad chuckled, "Well, you get dressed and tend to him. I got dinner to fix," and dad trundled off. I quickly put on my shorts and jeans only and bolted from the garage.

I couldn't find him at first, but at least he wasn't in his car. I finally found him clear around the other side of the house sitting up against the siding actually below my bedroom window, his knees clear up to his chest and head down. He looked very ashamed and upset with himself, even nearly to tears. I quickly sat next to him,

"You've nothing to be upset about," I said softly.

"I feel like a pervert," he replied, "My dad's sweet smart boy is nothing but a creepy … " and I interrupted,

"Shut up. You are not a pervert and you are not creepy!" I said forcefully, "And you had better not think of me that way either," I said a bit too loud, but there was nobody to hear me in that cramped space.

He looked at me, his eyes red, but his face softened, "I'm sorry that I lost control like that."

"Don't be. I'm glad that you did, actually, only now, we can't exactly do it together," I smiled a little and dared to rub the top of his knee with my hand but thinking I was being the pervert, started to take it away.

His hand clapped on top of mine, he wiped his face and then smiled a little,

"Then I'm sorry we can't do it together too," and removed his hand and I did as well.

"Who says that?" and I stood up and helped him up too,

"Come on, we best find dad, dinner is probably almost ready," he looked down at himself,

"Oh crap. What do we do about this?" referring to his semen stained clothing.

"No problem. Follow me," and we got to my bedroom without dad seeing us and I found Randy a spare pair of sweats to wear before dinner.

I even watched as he changed, smiled as his bare bottom and stuff appeared. He didn't try to hurry or hide himself like at school in the lockers.

"What are you looking at?" he smirked at me, I could tell trying to be bold through his nervousness.

"Oh nothing. Just remembering what your butt looked like after Coach's swats," I grinned brightly.

He turned and showed me his hot little ass, "OK, look all you want, but don't touch," he smiled gamely.

"Don't need to touch, sure would like to see some red back there again though," I teased him, quite daring even for me.

He pulled up his sweats, "Play your cards right jock boy," and the little shit brushed right past me looking very pleased with himself as he entered the hallway towards the kitchen.

Dinner was great. My dad is a very good cook, he has to be, I can eat like a horse most meals, but that doesn't mean that I will settle for just any ol' hay and oats. Anyway, Randy was talkative and so was dad. In fact, I had never seen dad talk to any other of my jock friends like this and felt oddly offended before I realized he was being very friendly to Randy because he was his son's ticket out of flunksville. Oh well.

It was Dad's poker night over with some of his work friends and he left the house after we got the dinner dishes done. Suddenly I was alone with Randy Wells and he with me.

"What now? I asked standing with him in our front room.

"I'll leave if you want me to," he said, but I could tell he didn't want to.

"I don't want to you go," I replied.

"In that case. I have something really stupid to ask you, but I have to ask even though you'll laugh and make me feel like a freshman dweeb," he said looking really determined and really embarrassed.

"Ask me anything," I replied trying not to let lust get in the way of admiring his confidence and trust.

He swallowed and looked at me, his eyes sharp and even a little wild looking,

"Take me back to the garage Randy if it's allowed. I want you to give me a whipping with your strop, nice and hard like you got it, for me losing control like I did," he blurted nervously.

My mouth flew open, my lust's desire kind of rattled by the intensity of his unusual request.

"Randy, you've only got a few paddle swats in gym. That strop will tear your, excuse me for saying it, your tender little bottom clear up!"

He looked at me, kind of disappointed, but mostly relieved,

"But you're right," I continued, "you need to be punished and punished hard, follow me," and he did to behind my bedroom door where I quickly spied a stout leather belt in my open closet and doubled it up in my fist,

"I am going to give you a good old fashioned whipping right here in my room with this belt, strip off Wells, now!" I barked at him.

He looked very sheepishly at the belt, held his bottom in his hands and then looked at me head to toe I was sure assessing my physical prowess and ability to tear his bottom up with the belt, never mind the strop, reality was truly setting in.

I smiled and tossed the belt aside, "Is my tutor up for maybe a good old fashioned spanking over my knee, bare hand to bare bottom?"

He grinned and started to strip himself down, "Yes sir!" his boner flopping out. He looked at it and then at my trousers just as I looked down at myself.

"Do you mind?" I asked moving my hand to strip myself down.

"Please," he nodded, so I did and my boner came flying out of its cage.

I sat on my bedside and motioned him over to my knee. He stood there trembling a little, not so much like the vaunted confident high school academic he was used too and more like a helpless little boy by his daddy's knee.

"Don't worry. I know you've never been spanked like this, I'll be gentle," I assured him.

"Thanks, but you don't have to. Just because my parents don't believe in spanking, doesn't mean I don't. I wished many times my dad would discipline me like other boys. Spank me like your dad might spank you at our age, please?"

I nodded, once again admiring his tough stance but knowing that he didn't really know what he was talking about. No matter, he deserved to be taken seriously and then realized this was my first go around at actually spanking a guy, much less anyone like him. Still, I folded my arms trying to get into the mood,

"Randy Wells, you should be ashamed. You let yourself lose control in the garage," I said and experienced a huge tingling thrill throughout my whole body in saying it.

"I am ashamed sir," he said, "please don't spank me!" he asked with his voice trying to be equally serious but his eyes looked far more impish than rebellious.

"Get over my knee. You need a good old fashioned spanking on your bare butt," I said and unfolded my arms, dropping them, a shiver now passing down my spine.

He quickly slid across my knees with an enthusiasm that so caught me off guard I hardly noticed his hard dick flopping between them. I gulped and used my hands to reposition his beautiful white little cheeks at just the right angle of my knee.

He felt tense to me at first, but then uttered this kind of sigh and relaxed and I felt a huge upturn in body weight on my lap including inching his side right into my side trapping my hard cock between us.

I was quickly very guilty feeling for what I was now thinking about Randy as I gazed down on his hot ass. I raised my hand to spank him, but stopped. It just hung up there a moment too long and he looked back and up at me,

"It's OK, I trust you. Truth is, I trust you more right now than I would my own dad. At least you know what it's like to feel like me, he doesn't."

My stomach clenched, he had hit the nail on the head so squarely so how could I spank him now? Maybe he should be spanking me? Fuck! But neither did I want to let him down. I took a deep breath, he was still looking up at me,

"And now you're gonna get a spankin' for real!" I said giving him a little wink.

His pink little tongue wagged before his head turned away. I think I blushed a bit from it, but I also let her fly, my hand that is and my big palm spanked his far cheek and then his near, right at the center.

I watched him. His head came up, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth curled down. Just by feel, I could tell his ass was softish and would not tolerate a lot of harsh slaps, so I dialed down the strength of my effort to make it last for him without being too obvious.

I ramped up the speed though and slapped his ass up and down, side to side for a really fast flurry,

"Naughty boys get their bottoms spanked young man and you've been very naughty!" I lectured, turning myself on in the process.

I didn't think my spanks were all that hard, but where his dick was hard before, it seemed to have softened and his face didn't lie, he was hurting plenty. I stopped,

"You gettin' the picture mister?" I asked echoing some of my own dad's words.

He looked back at me, he had red eyes too! He nodded, "yessir" he said quietly.

I about shit my pants. He was so into this moment. I had to be careful. I almost bailed on him, but at the last moment pulled away from some of my nerves simply by pretending it was like being in a critical situation during a football game.

I nodded, I even let my hand fall and squeeze his cheeks one at a time gently. It felt oh so good to do so and then I felt it, his dick hardened just by me doing that. It made me happy, because now I knew it made him happy.

"You better or next time you do anything like that, it's gonna be the belt at the least, you hear me?"

He nodded and then dammit, he humped on my thigh. I couldn't believe it!

"You keep that up, I'll give you a good hard belting now!" I smirked.

"I better behave then," he said, I thought quite effectively, "Yes you better," I echoed and then went after him now feeling more comfortable.

It got to him soon there after, "Ou! Ou! OK OK OK, Please stop!" he yelped at me, I stopped,

"I don't think you've had enough yet," I said sounding real parent-like for him and gave him another round of spanks. He started to kick and his hands flew back. I caught them easily; it was one of my ineffective tricks with my dad.

"Bad idea!" I said and then spanked his bad boy cheeks again, but mostly for effect. He was pretty red back there by now. Wisely, he went limp and started to sob and he also looked back at me, his eyes wishing for me to stop. I did but didn't want to let him up.

"There, now that's a spanking, a real one like my dad gives," I reassured him.

"Oh good," he sounded so relieved and didn't move a muscle as I stared at his red butt a while longer.

"Let me help you up," I finally said and did. He stood and immediately looked around at his red ass.

"Shit!" he blurted at the rare sight and then looked at me wide eyed. I laughed,

"What's the matter, don't you ever curse?"

He smiled self-consciously, "Not so anyone ever hears me."

"Then you'd never fit on the football or wrestling teams," I teased, but my eye was on his dick, it was back up real fast to match mine.

"Want to?" I asked, my hand softly grasping my hard-on.

He swallowed hard, "I want … I want to jack you off," he asked tentatively.

Damn he had balls! "OK!" I grinned, "And I'll do you too," I offered. He grinned and nodded so we just stood side by side ignoring that we were going to cause a mess on the floor, but what did that matter now?

Feeling Randy's gentle yet firm hold on my dick felt nearly as good as my hold on his.

"Oh MAN this feels great!" he said, eyes closed.

I said nothing, he was quickly getting me to the grand finale, but he beat me to it and that sent me over the edge. We squirted my floor. It looked like somebody had a used a play-pistol and went wild with white stuff.

"Whew!" he said and sat on my bed. I grinned down at him, "Now that was fun, but was the spanking enough?" I asked.

He thought a moment, "Enough to make sure I don't get one from my dad. I'd be too afraid that I couldn't control my cock," he smiled. I smiled with him on that one in full agreement.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 3

Having Randy for my tutor was at first a thrill of sorts. I mean, given what we now knew about each other and had done together, it makes sense, but this was now the real world and I was never going to be a genius at schoolwork and it began to take its toll.

I started to skip our sessions and make up stupid excuses and once I started that, it was hard to stop. In fact, I went too far one day after school. I was supposed to meet Randy after school so we could go to his place for my tutoring lesson and instead I went out to screw around with my jock buddies. It was late spring now and close to all-important midterms.

When my buddy dropped me off at home I saw Randy's car and him standing there with my dad and neither of them looked happy. I felt like a double-Dumbo idiot and an ungrateful one at that. I sighed and marched to face the music, double music.

"Where have you been young man?" Dad asked sternly.

"Goofin' off," I said quietly, head down.

"You been doing that a lot lately have you?" he asked the leading question. I followed, "Yes sir," avoiding Randy Wells' eyes.

"Very well. Randy here tells me there is still time left to straighten things out for mid-terms, but you are going to have to work your young ass off and that brings up another thing mister. You have earned yourself a royal ass whipping."

I finally looked up at dad and Randy. Dad was pissed looking, but Randy looked kind of sad. That really got to me. I had disappointed him and never meant to.

"Yes sir, shall I just go to the garage now?" I asked not expecting at all what I heard next.

"No. You'll do whatever Randy tells you to do."

I stood there, looking back and forth, "What does that mean exactly?" and I meant no disrespect to my tutor.

"It means that I am going to punish you," Randy said.

I looked at him, "Huh? Randy, I don't mean to question your intent and all but … " and then he held up one of my worst enemies, dad's old hairbrush.

That thing hurt like a devil when used right and despite Randy's slender physique, I didn't doubt that he could bring me to tears with it. I sighed,

"I get it now. OK then. I'll do what you say Randy."

"Not until I get your promise in front of your dad that you'll stop goofing off for the rest of the school year."

"I promise," I said.

"Because if you do, you also have to promise that you'll take punishment without questioning me. If you resist me, I'll tell your dad and the Dean and let them deal with you, got it?" he asked.

I nodded, "Got it," I said actually feeling relief and yes, a little excitement. It was turn-about time and to tell the honest truth, I had kind of fantasized about this moment minus me being disappointing Randy or my dad.

"Good. I'll leave you two boys to it and Randy?" he looked at me,

"Yes dad?"

"You screw this up and I'll ground you from your athletics, don't think I won't" he threatened. I understood that threat especially, "I understand sir."

Randy and I went to my room, him first. I closed the door,

"First, I'm deadly sorry I screwed around and wasted your time, it won't happen again."

"My time is one thing. I thought you cared about all this. When it seemed you didn't, it made me feel … well … like everything else we had done didn't mean anything to you. It made me sad," he said.

I nodded, "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"OK, strip, get naked," he instructed.

"Are you going to?" I asked.

"I haven't decided yet. First, I am going to beat your ass and see what happens."

I nodded and proceeded to strip down. Yes, my dick was hard and it didn't look like Randy was tenting his trousers.

"I don't think I can handle you over my lap, so bend over the end of the bed and lay your front on a pillow and keep your ass up high," he told me.

Sounded very familiar. Sounded like dad had taught him what to do, good then and I got into position. He came up to my side. He looked at me. I looked at him looking at me. I saw his trousers tent. That made me glad for him. He kept on looking too!

"I see you're plenty turned on Randy. It's OK if you want to strip off and … you know …. Lord it over me and all," I said revealing some of my lust to him.

He looked at me, "If I do that, something else could happen. I can't guarantee anything," he said intently.

"I understand, but I deserve to do everything you tell me Randy. I trust you, but at the same time, I need to be taught any lesson you think you want to give me."

He nodded and stripped naked and for some reason, his dick didn't look half as small as I remembered. It gave me a delicious thrill actually to see him lording his hard dick so near to my ass.

I could see his eyes leering at my ass. I spread my legs,

"Oh god, you're looking at me like a hungry man looks at a steak," I said daring a nervous tease.

His face changed a bit. He turned his nakedness more directly towards my face,

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking," he said.

It seemed a really daring thing to say. It was at least more daring than those stupid truth and dare games us jocks used to play in summer sports camps all those years.

"In fact I do want to know. What is it you want to do after you whip my tail?" I dared to ask back.

He blushed, "I want to feed my dick into your mouth and face fuck you. Then I want to fuck your hot jock ass."

Holy virgin Mary mother of Jesus! And I'm not even close to being Catholic. I turned my head to the front to contemplate what he was suggesting. He wanted to sex up my ass, my virgin ass! Did I really want that too? Could I let him do that? I had never sucked a dick much less taken one up my ass.

"Have you ever … " I half asked him looking back.

"Never mind what I've done or not done before, that's what I want to do after I whip your butt," he persisted.

Wow, he was so forceful and hot just then,

"Well, if it has to be, it has to be," I heard myself say to him. He just nodded,

"You're right and now … "

I kind of guessed halfway through that all of those hated calisthenics that Coach Mack had made Randy and the other non-sporty boys do in P.E. class along with all the push-ups, chin-ups and rope climbing had made him ready for the wickedly effective ass tanning that he was now dishing out to my surprised jock ass!

"I swear to God young man that you are not going to sit for a week!" he scowled and pummeled my sit-spots, still the most tender area on my posterior quarters.

"Oh Please I'm sorry sir! OH GOD! It hurts, please STOP!" I yelled and realized I never begged my dad like that, why was I begging Randy now? It was harsh but no more than dad's punishments.

"You're gonna be sorry when my cock is spanking your insides jock-boy," he roughly smirked and now went for the top of my thighs just like dad!

"Yes sir! SORRY SIR!" I said but his threat of butt-fucking me using the word "spanking" was really provoking my lust.

"Stop saying you're sorry. Tell me you're bad and need this punishment," he demanded.

"YES YES, I'm a really bad boy, please punish me Randy, sir!" I blurted.

He stopped and the room seemed a thousand degrees and we were panting a whole lot of hot humid air between us, my ass throbbing every bit as much as when dad punished me.

I looked at him. He was staring at my butt cheeks again, kind of mesmerized. I felt I owed him so I just said it then,

"Please, when you're done whipping my tail, please take my cherry if that's what you want, Randy."

He looked at my face, then my ass, then back at my face. He looked unsure, "Maybe I will, maybe not," he said and then ran his hand over my beaten cheeks,

"Pretty red, pretty sore looking."

"Very sore feeling. I feel … really well punished."

"Is it really enough?" he asked signaling to me he wanted to do more.

"Spank me with your hand. Should feel pretty painful. I want to feel your hand," I suggested.

"In that case. I want you to go over my lap, even if it's awkward, like you spanked me over yours," he said and I was pretty pleased with that,

"We'll make it work," and we did.

He sat on the bedside and I jack-knifed myself across his lap both so he could easily spank me with his hand and me not overwhelm him with my body weight.

"Wow, it's a lot different from this side," he commented.

"You bet it is," I replied.

"I haven't got hard hands, I doubt you'll feel this very much," and he was right.

"Don't matter much. Just me having to put myself like this over your knees makes me feel real humble. Just do your best," I encouraged.

He did do his best. It didn't hurt all that much, but still affected me. He let me stand up afterwards,

"Didn't hurt much I guess," he said.

"No, but that wasn't the point. I felt the need to be over your knee. It made me realize how important it is to appreciate what you're doing for me."

He smiled and stood. Our cocks were pretty hard.

"Still want to do all that stuff?" I asked him.

"No, not really. It was fun to let off some steam saying it thought," and I nodded in agreement, "Let's jack each other off," I grinned so that's what we did.

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 4

A couple weeks later I found out that I did better than just pass mid-terms, I got pretty good grades out of it. Randy came over to give me and Dad the great news. Dad was so proud of me, he hugged me and even pecked my cheek right there in front of Randy in our driveway,

"I knew you could do it son! I'm so damn proud of you and thank you Randy, you've done a lot for this family," Dad shook his hand, but Randy's face didn't look all that enthused. Something was missing.

"This calls for a steak dinner, please join us?" Dad asked him. He shuffled his feet looking uncomfortable,

"Thanks, but I need to go. Congratulations again Randy," he said to me, "You had it in you the whole time," and then he turned and got into his car.

Dad and I celebrated that night, but later on in my bedroom alone I couldn't sleep and not because of freight trains or police strobes, I was worried about my tutor, now pretty much my best friend.

About a week later we were finishing up P.E. with running laps as usual. Randy ran with me in the middle of the pack. He had vastly improved his physical prowess. Even coach noticed and as we trotted by his watchful eye, he started to run with us.

"Wells!" he yelled and we looked at him startled. Then he got a big ol' shit eating grin on his face,

"You've improved son, good job, I'm proud of you," and even gave him an affectionate swat of his clipboard before peeling off.

I saw the look on Randy's face, he was proud looking, but something was still missing.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Not really. Dad and I have had a rough couple of weeks. We even had a big argument last night."

"That must have been interesting, what about?" I noted.

"Spanking," he said.


"Yea, remember, I'm really good in debate and he's an attorney. I challenged his child rearing ideas. He didn't much like it. I won the argument but don't tell him that," he said looking a bit sad.

"Why spanking?" I asked, but he ignored the inquiry.

"Randy, I have a plan to deal with my father. Would you help me? It's going to be really difficult."

"Anything!" I said as we now trotted towards the lockers and the end of class.

Later after classes I sat in Randy's car next to him and he told me about his plan,

"Are you nuts? That's … that's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard," I said to him knowing I could never change his mind.

"I might be, but it's the only way," he said confidently.

"OK, it's your ass," I replied also confident I could keep up my end of the bargain.

The following Friday after school I got into Randy's car with him. We sat there silent.

"It's now or never," he said. I nodded and patted his shoulder, "No matter what, I think you're the best damn guy I've ever known."

He smiled, "Thanks. Ditto," he said and sighed, started up the car and we took off.

Everyone knew where all the police speed traps were in the area. There was an especially consistent one just outside of town. Randy gunned his car way past the speed limit and flew past the police cruiser who pulled out and put on his lights. Randy did not stop at first. He was really taking some chances, but finally pulled over.

The look on Randy's face I had not seen since that afternoon in my garage when he lost control of his dick and wet his pants. His hands shook like crazy fumbling for his license and car registration just as the cop strode up to his window. Randy rolled it down.

"Registration and license sir. You were mighty slow pulling over son," as the man looked at the documents, "Didn't you see my lights?"

Randy looked at me, "Oh sure officer. I did, just didn't care to pull over."

"I tried to make him sir," I said, "but he can be pretty stubborn."

"Apparently not stubborn enough to pretty well pass the speed limit for quite a while back there. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ticket you son," the officer said calmly.

"Can't we forget this officer? My father is a well-respected attorney. I'm sure we can make an arrangement," Randy said.

I about shit my pants. We had not talked about going that far!

"Excuse me son? Are you attempting to bribe the law?" he asked politely.

"Do they hire nothing but high school drop outs to do your job?" Randy replied to him as I sunk way down in my seat.

A few hours later in the police station I sat next to a very worried friend as we watched our dads conferring together. It took me just a little convincing to get dad to have to leave work. He was not happy about at first until I explained the real reasons I had let Randy talk me into his risky plan.

When it was all said and done, a large fine was set, a verbal reprimand on site and Randy wouldn't even have to face a traffic judge. That was the government's answer, but we were only getting started with the parental response.

"Let's get out of here and go home. I've invited Mr. Bennett and his son to follow Randy. We are going to get to the bottom of this nonsense," he said quite tersely to his son.

"Yes sir," Randy said and I looked at his cautious but hopeful expression at what his father had just said.

Mrs. Wells would not be home until later that day leaving two dads with two sons in the Wells residence. We met in Mr. Wells' office. I had never seen so many books up on shelves in any one place other than a library before.

Mr. Wells sat behind his desk and told Randy to stand in front of his desk. It gave me goose-bumps. Mr. Wells looked like a judge and Randy the accused, just like in a courtroom on television.

"OK son, what the hell is this all about?" Mr. Wells said with annoyance.

"Nothing. I speeded. I broke the law, I have to be punished," he said standing with his hands clasped behind his back, calm and collected just like at a debate match.

"Punished. Does this by chance have anything to do about our little argument about corporal punishment which I won by the way?"

"Dad, I won and you know it and no it doesn't other than the fact that all I want is to be treated just like any other boy by his father."

"What does that mean? You get anything, everything you want. You're a straight-A student. You have a car. I don't begrudge you any of it. What got into your head to pull a stunt like this anyway?" and then Mr. Wells looked at me.

"Did he make you do this?" Mr. Wells pointed to me.

My dad's face got a bit upset at that, but he said nothing. I didn't mind at all.

"NO! I did this on my own. I asked for Randy's support that's all."

Mr. Wells sighed, "Randy, stop beating about the bush. Just say whatever it is that's bothering you please?"

"I did it to get your attention the best way I knew how. I want to have a normal relationship with you dad."

"Normal? It IS normal."

"No it's NOT! I screwed up. I want you to punish me. I demand it. I want to be spanked, over your knee, NOW!" Randy demanded, not exactly in the cool style of a great debater.

"Don't you issue me ultimatums young man," Mr. Wells stood up starting to lose his usual cool as well; but suddenly the man I perceived trying to be the attorney at the beginning seemed to turn into a dad again.

"I will if I WANT!" Randy said stepping to around the side of his dad's big desk.

"Randy! You're seventeen for God's sake, stop acting like a ten year old brat. What's gotten in to you?"

I glanced at my father. He was as rapt as if watching his favorite soap on T.V.

"Shut up and act like a father should!" Randy blurted leaving us all slack jawed.

Mr. Wells blushed. He looked at his son, me, my Dad and then down at his waist. He was still in his business suit and I spied the black dress belt around his waist. Mr. Wells looked at it, but the priceless expression on his face made him look like he had no idea what it really was. My dad stepped in,

"It's called a belt Caleb. It holds up the pants there and is very useful to whip out of the loops in dramatic fashion, double up and whip your son's naked ass until he begs for it to stop. That's what I would do counselor, but it's your judgment."

Way to go DAD! I fist pumped my Dad in my mind.

Mr. Wells took off his suit coat, "You want a spanking, you're going to get one. You're going to get a whipping," Mr. Wells said calmly rolling up his sleeves, "Get your butt bare young man, over the side of my desk," he said drawing the black leather out of its loops.

Randy's eye got wide, real wide, "Yes SIR!" he said and quickly pulled down his pants and his underwear and cleared some of his dad's papers to the side, Mr. Wells helping. Randy then stretched his naked body across the length, his hot little naked ass right at the corner.

Mr. Wells stepped to the side. He looked at the belt as if unsure what to do with it. My dad jumped up,

"Please Caleb, may I?" Dad strode over. I was so damn proud of my old man.

Dad took the belt doubled it up properly and handed it back, "There, just like that. Nice hard short strokes. Keeps it under control. Go for it counselor," Dad smirked.

Mr. Wells looked at my father, "You watch too much T.V.," but dad only grinned and stepped back.

"I know I'm supposed to say something first," Mr. Wells said.

Randy looked around to his dad, "How about, 'I love you son or this is going to hurt me more than you,'" and their eyes met.

Mr. Wells' arm dropped, "The facts are … I mean … Randy, I do love you more than anything. I'm sorry you had to go this far for me to catch on."

I got a huge lump in my throat. My dad was sitting next to me and put his arm around my shoulders and that made my eyes mist.

"It's OK dad. I did it for both of us," Randy said and that made me have to wipe my eyes a little.

"Hold on tight," Mr. Wells said almost in a whisper and Randy did.

Mr. Wells let the belt fly. The longer he whipped his son's ass, the harder each strike seemed to get but also the more Randy was determined to take it.

"I will NOT tolerate juvenile foolishness in this home, do you understand me son?" Mr. Wells said, pausing.

"Yes daddy, I'm sorry daddy," Randy said, tears streaming, but I wasn't sure from just pain and Mr. Wells gave his son another flurry of licks across his butt.

"You'll be sorry all right. No boy of mine is going to act like a … a common criminal and not get his butt tanned from now on!"

"Yes daddy, thank you daddy" Randy replied and his chin started to quiver.

Randy's ass was already pretty marked. Randy started to cry, Caleb dropped the belt and tugging on his son's arm, pulled him up and hugged him closely. Randy cut loose and started to bawl very hard in his dad's arms.

My dad squeezed my shoulder and kissed my temple. I wiped my eyes and kissed him back as we watched father and son across the room. Randy stopped crying. Caleb kissed his son on the cheek and Randy returned it making my eyes water a little bit more.

Then they parted and Randy looked at his ass, "Wow dad, you swing a mean belt."

Caleb held it up like a hunting trophy, "Damn straight son, just remember that."

"I will!" Randy gleamed and rubbed his bottom and then quickly dressed himself.

"Oh, and another thing mister. You want to be treated like the other boys?"

"Well yea!" Randy replied.

"Good. You're grounded from driving your car for a month and you'll be taking the bus to school as well for the rest of the year."

At first, Randy's face fell, but then he just shrugged and smiled, "Yes Dad, I deserve that."

* * * * * * * * * *

Chapter Five

I was desperate to get some time alone with Randy and apparently so was he. Dad accepted that night's dinner invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Wells. All during dinner Randy was giving me knowing looks. He knew what I was thinking, I knew what he was thinking as well. Dad finally went home after Randy asked him if his son could stay the night. Dad was all too happy to oblige.

"So, now you're a bad ass. You got a whipping from your dad and lost your car for a month and have to ride the bus, satisfied? " I smirked at him as finally we were alone in his room later that night.

"No pain, no gain, jock boy, you should know all about it," he replied dryly, "lock the door," he said. The room suddenly felt wonderfully tense. I locked his bedroom door.

"Did you get your rocks off watching my dad whip my tail?"

I nodded and grabbed my package, "I wanted to be the one doing it to you," I improvised.

He grinned, "Screw that. I enjoyed paddling your hot ass. I want to do that again."

"You better watch it Wells. I can take you anytime I want," I said my dick hard as nails in my trousers.

"Oh yea? You jocks are all words, no action," he dared. His trousers were just as tented as mine. I peeled my shirt off and threw it at him.

He caught my shirt and tossed it aside as I then started to undo my trousers, unzipped them and got them off down to my undies and started to advance on him. He pulled his shirt off and took off his trousers as I pawed at my hard bulge and watched. He stripped naked. I lost my underwear too.

"You best get ready bad boy. You're losing your cherry tonight," I said with no idea what I was really talking about.

He looked up at me, "If you think you can," he smirked and tried to push me back. I grinned, "Oh you are asking for it!"

"Am I?" he grinned and backed away from me and crawled onto his bed top. I followed. I had never felt like this, I was in heat to a degree that I thought my head was going to explode.

I lunged at him. He ducked and tried to dart past me and off of the bed. I caught him and slammed him down on his back on the bed and got on top of him, full naked body to body contact.

Having never done that before, I was ill-prepared for feeling as if I had just found the key to heaven. If this skin to skin thing was just the beginning, then I was in bad trouble of becoming addicted like it was a drug.

His eyes were on fire. He looked up at me for just a moment, his arms came up and pulled me down to him and forced me, us, to kiss. His mouth opened before I knew what he was doing and his tongue demanded entrance into mine. I granted it.

My heart was racing so hard, I thought it would burst as our tongues swirled together. I was prepared for kissing a boy to taste awful, for me to spit him out of me and tell him I could not do this, it wasn't right. None of that happened. He tasted like candy, his slippery tongue inside of my mouth like it belonged.

He turned us to the side and then he turned us again and now he was on top. I let him. We broke the kiss. His face looked like mine felt, amazed, startled and even shocked.

"You've … you've done this before," I said staring up at him.

"No, not even close. Do you … like it?" he asked as if my answer would determine his fate for the rest of his life.

I nodded, "Yes," was all I said and now it was my turn. I pulled him down and we kissed again, I mean kissed. We kissed so hard my mouth hurt and spit ran from both of our mouths when we parted.

"That's called sucking face," he said delightedly.

I grinned, "Sounds hot!" I had never heard that term before.

"Stay here," he said with a huge grin on his face.

I did and watched as he scrambled off the bed and went to open his closet door. It was much larger than mine as was his whole room and ten times neater, that is until the closet door opened. It was a disaster! I grinned ear to ear at the mess as I also leered at his upturned hot little ass and spied his butthole and drooled.

He grabbed a small suitcase from its deep burial within the disheveled pile of clothes and boy stuff and brought it back to the bed. I sat up crossed legged across from him as he opened it up,

"If my parents knew I had this stuff, I'd be shipped to boarding school," he commented as he opened it up.

I stared at the contents, stunned.

"Go ahead!" he grinned like an evil scientist.

"What the fuck?" I said grabbing not one but two rubbery penis shaped things.

"Never saw a dildo before?" he smiled.

"A what?" I said and then saw something else. I put the dildos down and picked up one of half a dozen adult magazines, all of them of guys having sex, one picture after another.

"Here's my favorite," Randy said excitedly and showed me a couple pictures of guys sucking each other's dicks in a 69 position.

"And this one," he said and showed me another 69 position.

"What are they doing?" I asked unsure.

"Eating each other's boy pussies," he said. My eyes got big, "What? Boy pussies?"

"You know, girls have twats and pussies, boys have the same thing, their buttholes!"

I chuckled, "You know so much! You sure you haven't done anything before?"

"Nope, only used about a half dozen tubes of this," and held up a half-used tube of K-Y jelly, "with this" and held up the smaller of the two dildos, "the other one is too big for me."

"You're kidding," I said feeling once again the student to his tutoring, this time not for school, but for sex, guy sex!

"Feels great, but you have to take your time," he said.

"Teach me, please!" I asked. He nodded enthusiastically.

I took to sucking dick as did he. I lay on my back and we went at it for as long as our virgin jaws would allow, then we went for the other thing, sucking on boy twat. As soon as I dared to lick over his butthole, I was addicted. So was he. We turned to our sides and spent a long time, licking and then he went first and stuck his tongue in my hole,

"Oh FUCK! That feels great!" I said.

"And taste even better," he said and then it was my turn, I stuck my tongue inside his boy twat.

"FUCK! Makes me want to get that dildo inside of me, better yet, YOU inside of me," he said and without me asking, got up on all fours, "Get behind me, use lots of this," and handed me the K-Y.

I was shaking, trembling even, "I'm not so sure now. Won't I hurt you?"

"Not if you're slow, take your time, I want this really bad Randy," his voice shaky but determined sounding.

I lubed up his butthole and my dick. I pressed my dickhead against his anus,

"I don't know. I might not be able to control myself. I need to cum!" I said.

"Just wait, don't cum. Wait until you're inside of me. It's called breeding."

"Breeding? What … " and then I got it, "Damn Wells, you're like some kind of sex encyclopedia."

"Pays to have a library card AND to listen to girls talk," he giggled.

"OK," I said, "Here goes," and I started to push inside of him.

"TOO FAST!" he grimaced and I quickly pulled out, "No, I'm not doing this."

"Yes you are! Go slower," he said and I went for it again. This time it worked and apparently so had all of Randy's practice with his dildo.

"Oh Jesus yes! Oh Fuck Yea!" he hissed as I started to gently fuck him in and out and then felt his pelvis start to push back.

"Oh man, this is good, this is really good, I want to … to breed your hot little asssssss," I hissed it was feeling so hard to hold back.

"OK, now you're going to take over, make me take it, fuck me hard!" he insisted and then lowered himself flat onto the bed, me on top. It was just like one of the pictures we had looked at.

"I'm gonna fuck you Wells, fuck your hot little ass!" and started to pull my dick in and out of him in longer strides and strokes.

"Get your face down here, I want to look you in the eyes!" he insisted and I did.

As soon as I saw the need in his eyes I started to fuck him, harder and harder. His face started to look pained, "Want me to stop?" I paused.

"No, finish it, take my ass for yours!" he insisted so I started again. This time I did not stop.

"It hurt, it hurts, it hurts," he mumbled, his face looking pained, but not discouraged.

"Take it Wells, TAKE IT!" I insisted, getting closer.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," he mumbled next, squeezing his eyes shut. Suddenly, I tipped to the other side and exploded. It was like the brightest white light ever, blinding me to anything else but the rapture of a lifetime.

We lay there panting, me still inside of him, "Wow," I said.

"Yea," he said and I slowly pulled out of him and he looked at me, "That was amazing,"

"Looked like it hurt, a lot," I said.

"It did, but I still liked it, I liked that you did it to me," he said smiling.

"Yea, well, you deserve some payback, I'll suck you off," I offered.

"Sounds good," he said and I slipped off the bed and onto my knees. He sat up at the bedside and I slipped my mouth over his dick. It was a lot smaller than mine and easy to take in.

Randy hardened up quickly and was already primed.

"Suck my dick jock-boy!" he said. It was hard not to laugh, but I didn't and felt him start to face fuck me, his pelvis slowly jutting upwards into my mouth.

"I'm gonna cum!" he warned. My impulse was to withdraw and try to avoid tasting his cum but I kept myself down.

"Yesssssss," he said and started to feed me his juices. They tasted better than I had anticipated, a LOT better and I swallowed all of his stuff.

Randy pulled me back into his bed and we lay there side by side, eye to eye, his hands gently on my face,

"Promise me we can do this again."

"I promise," I said.

Despite our many differences, me from almost the other side of the tracks, a jock, and he from the nice side of town, a non-sporty boy, we would at least keep the promise to share more lust. Could there be more? Should there be more? Only time could tell.

© Copyright PJ Franklin April 21, 2012

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