Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2004 21:17:23 -0800 From: Kevin Harness Subject: A Boy To Remember The usual disclaimers apply, of course, in that if you are under 18, don't want to hear/read a relationship story of a man/boy nature, hear explicit sexual content, or if the province, state, country, etc you are in does not allow you to view or hear such content, you must leave this site now. Otherwise, read on. All characters, of course, are portrayed by actors 18 years of age or over, and any character resemblance to any real-life person or persons is pure accidental and unintentional. ------------------------------------------ I have always been partial to the good-looking blonde hair / blue-eyed boy, whether they be very young, or older. And so their presence always catches my eye, and I can't help but look and wonder if something could be developed, something could happen, some wayward look of interest could be an actual want or desire on their part. I have also always felt that the world works on the ideas of two's. For the idea of good, there is bad. For the idea or concept of light, there is also dark. Etc etc. And so on the note of their being boylovers I have believed that there must be boys who want guys / older guys to love them / care for them / pay attention to them. Which, coincidentally, leads all of us into this very story. I have tried to get out of town at least one weekend a month, whether it be to go camping or a short road-trip somewhere, fishing at the local campground chain, really it didn't matter to me just so long as I got to get out, enjoy the fresh outdoors, and not have to look at the four walls of my apartment. Being January in sunny southern California did have it's advantages, in that the weather was frequently stellar, with warm days and not-so-cool nights. This one particular weekend was no exception. The weatherman had touted that we'd have a mostly sunny weekend, some slight chance of clouds and some light drizzle, with the bulk of the weekend being basically a light-jacket weekend. Woohoo! My kind of weekend. I called ahead, rented a trailer for three days, and took off Friday as early from work as I could get away with, having packed my truck the night before of all that I would need. Having left work early and making it to the outskirts of the city early had the advantage of light traffic, with plenty of daylight left when I arrived at the campground. I checked in, unloaded quickly, did a quick set-up of the trailer (which included my little t.v., dvd/vcr, a few "choice" movies), what dry stuff food I had to the cubboards, and off to the little market for remaining necessities. Geeze! it was hardly 4:30p and the sun was still beaming. It was just getting slightly cool, but still mostly "t-shirt and jeans" weather, to be sure. I grabbed a basket and whizzed around the store happily, grabbing a few Smirnoff Coolers, water, eggs, bread, and the like. I happened to think, gee, why not? Get some ice cream to make a nice relaxing evening of it for later, and off I went to the frozen food area. If my basket would've had brakes, I'm sure I would've screeched to a halt as I rounded the last corner on the way to my ice cream pick-up. Hunched over the frozen food counter there was a blonde boy, slight-to-medium build, hair kinda shaggy-ish but not sloppy, with his butt protruding out as he eyed the ice cream, seemingly trying to come to some sort of decision. He took one look at me, looked down at the ice cream, and looked back up. "I'm stuck. Which do you think is better? Tin Roof Sundae, or Reese's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream?" Then he smiled at me. "Well, I love both, so I'd have a hard time giving a helpful opinion other than that," I returned. "Yeah, that's about where I am at, too," he stated. "I guess we could both buy both, and then compare notes," I laughed. "I wish," he said. "Guess I'll try the Reese's." I laughed again, "Guess I'll try the Tin Roof Sundae." He looked at me for a moment, then smiled again. "Are you here for the whole weekend?" he asked. "Yup, plan on getting in some good fishing and hiking. Well, that and watch a movie or two and eat some ice cream," I laughed again. He laughed back. "Well, I'll trade you some Reese's for a pass to the movies. I am bored stiff this weekend. My mom's here to get away for the weekend and get her taxes done, and I'm supposed to play shuffleboard, ping pong, and PacMan for three days." I smiled, "You're welcome over anytime, I'm in Trailer 21. Just knock or yell." I stuck out my hand for him to shake it. And he did. "Justin," he stated. (Holy cow! JUSTIN!? Did that ever fit this beautiful boy or WHAT?!) "Michael," I returned. "Thanks, I'll probably be over, if you really don't mind," he said slight hesitantly. But his eyes gleamed and danced. He had to be around 14 or 15, and was nothing short of extremely handsome, outgoing, and a smile that disarmed anything. And those eyes! Man! "No problem, the offer stands. If I am there, you're welcomed to come on over." "Thanks, Michael. I'll bring the ice cream along, too," smiling again. "Cool, I welcome the good company." Needless to say I could think of almost nothing else. I cleaned up the trailer a bit, had a fried egg sandwich, and jumped into the postage-stamp-sized shower for a quick cleanup. Although the water was warm enough, the water pressure wasn't the greatest and de-soaping myself took longer than expected. I used the lather to let my hands wander down to my needy loins, especially with the thoughts of attractive young lads dancing through my head. I was about half-way to satisfaction, and the next thing I knew there was a rap on the trailer door. Oops! Figuring it was probably Justin, I dried off a little and headed toward the door, wrapping a towel around me as I went. I got about 5' from the door and yelled, "Who is it?" "Justin," he came back. "Ok, count to five and come on in," I half-yelled back. I heard him laugh, and I headed back into the " bedroom" area, closing the partition door behind me. I heard the door open and shut just after I'd closed the partition door. "Hi Justin. Sorry, I just climbed out of the shower. Make yourself at home." "Sorry," he said, "I'll put the ice cream in the freezer and have a seat." "Don't worry about it, and ok, toss the ice cream in the freezer," I returned. I got dressed as quickly as I could, and walked out in my jeans and t-shirt. "Hiya," I greeted. "Hiya back," he said. "Sorry I crashed in on your shower. I hate it when that happens to me," he confided. "Aw no worries,I couldn't have asked for a better interruption," I stated, as no other explanation came to mind. He cocked his brow at me and smiled. I'm sure I blushed, and could've sworn that his glance flitted ever-so-quickly to my groin. Which, especially since I had rushed out of the shower with a raging hard-on, did not help deflate my wanton member at all. Ugh! I found myself wanting to get hard so he could see it, and alternately wanting to relax so as not to embarass myself any further than I already had. "Well, dude, I brought a few movies along that are pretty good. They're in the cabinet above the t.v., help yourself and see if anything looks particularly good for the evening," I offered. "Most of 'em I've seen, but as I recall they're good enough to watch again, so have at it." "Ok, cool," Justin responded, and he got up to take a look. "Want a coke or anything?" I asked. "Sure, that sounds good, thanks," he replied, and he walked over to acquire his soda. He just smiled at me when I looked at him. Argh! Damn this boy was cute, and what's more he didn't try to hide it or be self-conscious about it. It just sort of "was". Like, he knew it was a factor and probably even played it a bit, but it hadn't gone to his head. At least that was my 10-second analysis on the boy after having talked with him for a total of maybe 2 minutes now. He went back to the movie cabinet, soda in hand, and perused our movie agenda. "Hey Michael, how does The Beach sound?" "Um, that sounds good, I guess. It's kinda a long movie, though, as I recall. What time do you have to be home? Or, uh, back to your trailer?" "Mom is not only knee-deep in her work, she's also on about beer number 10, and so I don't think she'll notice if I'm there at all," he jibed. "Oh, sorry. Well, ok. You play it by ear and let me know what's what, and I dovetail along." "No need to be sorry, Michael, not your problem. I'm used to it. I'll go back to the trailer in a couple hours, I guess, to see where things are at..." he trailed off. "Ok, cool with me, Justin. No probs here." I tried to sound as confident as I could. He smiled back. "Thanks." He sat down on the couch, but not before adjusting his seemingly ample boy-package, and although I wasn't staring directly at the motion, I most certainly was taking in the whole thing out of the corner of my eye. And did I see him eyeing me as I watched from the corner of my eye? Ulp. All I could do was hope not, but the less careful, wreckless part of me hoped that he had indeed seen me watch him touch himself. As we watched the movie, I cautiously asked him if it was ok with him if I had a Smirnoff Ice. "Sure dude, no probs, just so long as you don't pass out and snore," and he laughed. I cracked up. He came across as funny, not critical, and was amazingly easy to just sit there with. It was more like an old friend had come to visit instead of a new guest. "Dude, Leo is probably more dynamic in this movie than any other, except for maybe Titanic," Justin said. I laughed out loud. "Is that because he gets laid in both of them, or because he's just flatly a good looking actor?" "Both," he said, smugly smiling but not looking directly at me. "Uh huh," I said back. He laughed out loud this time. We both looked at each other at the same time, and laughed simultaneously. "You're good company, Justin, thanks for coming over." "So are you, Michael. Thanks." He nodded, and thought for a second. "I feel like I can be myself around you, it's cool." "Way cool," and I patted him on the shoulder and sorta squeezed his muscles there. "Ugh," he responded. "Oh, sorry! Did I hurt you?" I asked quickly. "Nah, just sore from working out," and he rolled around and scrunched up his shoulders. "Would it be too forward to ask you if you wanted a shoulder rub?" I asked. He looked at me and eyeballed me and smiled. "No, not at all." And he stood up. "Where do you want me?" Laughing, I said, "Just sit on the floor here in front of where I'm sitting and we can still both watch the movie." "Ok," he replied, getting up and adjusting himself again before sitting down in front of me. I rubbed his shoulders and upper back for awhile, and we both laughed and commented on the movie as it went along. I had a definite erection, warm against my skin and pointing straight up. If he'd turned around he couldn't have missed it. "Hey, would you mind doing my lower back too? It's all stressed out." "Uh, sure, but I can't get at it too well from up here," I returned, "so you can either sit up here or I'll hop down there." I was trying to watch my wording. Justin, on the other hand, was not, either consciously or unconsciously. "I'll come up there," and he popped up instantly and plopped down in front of my groin, his butt cheeks coming in contact with the sides of my legs through both of our clothings. I nearly spurted on the spot, but somehow managed to settle myself down to the lower back task. I just couldn't help myself, though, and I surreptiously peeked around to the front of his body to see if he had any stimulation going. Yup! Sure did! My God, if he was all the way hard, he was pretty good sized, and if he wasn't there was a hell of a surprise beneath those jeans. Damn, THAT did not help me lessen my erection at all. "Um, Michael, I'm sliding off the couch edge here, I need to scoot back a bit," he warned. Kindly, he waited for me to acknowledge and be ready, and then slid back a couple inches. He was now slightly more in contact with me than before. I noticed, so I am assuming he noticed too. I smiled big, careful not to laugh. I placed both hands around his sides, running my thumbs along his lower spine, and down almost all the way to his tailbone. He moaned ever-so-slightly. "Sore there, too?" I asked. "Kinda. That feels good, though. Thanks." "No problem whatsoever. My pleasure," and I wished I hadn't put it quite that way but it was too late. He laughed, turned his head around and and looked me in the eye, "Uh huh." I worked his lower back area for awhile, and worked my way back up to his shoulders and neck. I then pressed my upper chest against his upper back, and kneaded his chest muscles too. It was usually a good move, fairly forward in nature, but usually well-accepted. "Aw, damn. That feels awesome," he said. "Where did you learn to give massages like this? You do a really good job of it." "Thanks Justin. I dunno, around, I guess. I just like making guys feel good." And there it was. It just fell out faster than I could monitor it or withhold it or not say it. "Yeah, I know." he stated without too much emphasis. And he turned around and looked me in the eye again and smiled. And then he looked straight down at my boner. And smiled back at me, and turned back around. "Don't stop," he coaxed, "I haven't had nearly enough of your expert massage." And he laughed. I laughed back, "I may want a return massage, sir." "Oh cool! I was hoping you'd say that!" and with a quick flip and turn of his body, he leaped around and slip down the couch back so he was pressed behind me, tightly. He wriggled his way down to the seat, and pushed ever so slightly with his hands on my shoulders. "You're going to have to move forward to give me some room to work." And with that, I laughed, and moved forward some. I thought my hard-on would burst. Not only was this totally erotic beyond almost any dream, he was also quite good at massaging my sore muscles, to boot. I groaned appropriately and in good proportions. "You are not too bad at this yourself," I complimented. "Yup!" he smiled. "Ok, my turn again," and he scampered back from behind me and sat once again in front of me. Instead this time he landed half on my crotch. "Holy shit, Justin," I half-panted, and with that I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big hug, which he returned as best he could. "Yeah," he said back. "Except your hugging me way too high on my body." I took the hint and kneaded the muscles of his chest and then stomach on the way down to his ample package. I slid my hands inside his undies and lightly scratched at his pubes, massaging the flesh above his penis, encircling it at the base with one hand, while the other found his balls and cupped them lightly. He was breathing heavily as I proceeded, and turned his head around to kiss at my face, and pressed his behind back into my straining manhood. We had our clothes off without a hitch, and almost according to some mystical script we were 69-ing immediately, voraciously sucking, licking, pumping each others' cock, nuzzling each others' balls, fingers going everywhere. I could tell he was going places fast, and I slowed a bit, and he took the cue and did likewise. "What would you like to do?" I asked. "Anything," he said, nearly under his breath. "Everything." I smiled. "Ok. Whatever ya want." I kept looking at him, waiting for him to realize he could decide whatever he wanted. "Oh. Um, gee....." he thought. "I dunno, I have kinda been the bottom guy a lot. That's ok with me." "You wanna be the top for a change?" I asked. "It's ok with me." He smiled real big, "Sure!" I said ok, and explained that I'd like to take it face down, with him lying on top of me. He said sure, so next was one of my favorite things, putting his condom on with my mouth. He LOVED it. He was probably 7 1/2" and although he wasn't real thick, he didn't have a skinny weenie, either. Not by any means. It took us some work, but after a bit of negotiating, he was in. "Press all the way in," I asked. He did so, and gasped. I used my spincter muscle to grasp his dick, and I pulsed it a few times for him. "Go for it, fast and slow, shallow and deep, and I wanna hear you cum your hardest ever," I requested. He simply smiled, and began pumping, and I pulsed his dick every once in a while. He kissed the back of my neck, and I could feel him getting close. "Go, baby, go. Cum deep," I said. And he thrust deep and hard, and he began taking in halted breaths, closer and closer together. "OHHH! UGH! Michael, I........" and he grunted loud and hard and deeply and nearly in tongues for what seemed like half a minute. I waited for him to settle a bit, and I totally joking, said, "Cum yet?" He was so weak he could barely laugh, but could hardly contain himself from gales of laughter. He laughed so hard tears came out of his eyes. "Oh, you are SO in for it, Mr. Michael!" he said. "Oh?" I mused. "Fuck me, Michael. Now." I did, deep on every stroke. As gently yet deep and hard as I could. He began to moan, and I could tell that my couch was soon to have a sperm puddle where he was, and about the same time that I was cumming. Sure enough, when I began panting and driving harder to my orgasm, he began to take in those sharp breaths again. "Oh God!" he exclaimed, and his body contracted with each of his spurts, and it pulled the cum right out of me, and I came SO hard I could hardly believe I stayed conscious. It was not until after we were done that I realized that we must have been pretty loud. "Damn, Michael. That was not only the best and most intense sex of my short life, it was the most intense anything of my life." I pulled out and he rolled over. We lay front to front, and I simply kissed his forehead. "Me too, babe." "Want some ice cream?" he asked facetiously, and we headed off into another fit of laughter. "Let's save that for tomorrow night," I said. "Think we'll have time?" he asked. "No. But it sounded good initially," I replied. "Cool," he said. "Oh, by the way. Mind if I sleep over?" He smiled. "Um............" I teased. "Sure," and smiled back at him. "Cool," he said again, and he grinned wide. Damn, this boy was way cute. What movie were we supposed to be watching.........?