From: noone@nowhere.com (Textual Man)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.gay
Subject: Timothy, again...second try
Date: Wed, 16 Apr 1997 05:44:38 GMT

Ok, first try didn't turn out as I thought; here it is in regular text
format.  Again, don't judge it too harshly, and don't email me, as
this is hardly my real email address.

If you're under 18, DON'T READ THIS.


Timothy
By Me

     I walked into my niece's bedroom and saw Timothy first thing.  He
was my niece's boyfriend, 18 years old and hot as hell.  He's 5'8",
about 140 pounds, with jet-black hair and dark brown eyes.  He usually
wears a baseball cap to hide his unruly mop of hair, which makes him
look even hotter.  He was stretched out on Jennifer's bed while she
was in the bathroom.  I sat down onto the bed and reached over to grab
his ankle, shaking it in a friendly way.

     "Hey, Dude," I said.  "What's up?"

     "Nothin'.  Just hanging out."  He looked up at me with those
beautiful eyes, and I felt, once again, the urge to reach over and
kiss him. "What are you up to tonight?"

     I shook my head.  "Just the usual."

     I let my eyes wash over him; he was wearing his usual black,
tight jeans, which showed off his bubble butt and his bulging crotch
to his best advantage, and the dark-green and white striped shirt I'd
given him for Christmas, with the top two buttons open, revealing the
top of his muscular chest.

     "Hey, Jack," Timothy said.  "When are we going camping?"

     Timothy had been after me to go camping with him for a couple of
months now; I'd been putting him off, because I knew I wouldn't be
able to restrain myself with him, the two of us alone in the woods
with a bottle of whiskey to loosen our inhibitions.  My family didn't
know I was gay, and Timothy sure as hell didn't, either.  He was
rather homophobic, although I made it plain that I had gay friends,
and had been working on him, trying to make him more tolerant  I
looked him in his gorgeous eyes and said, "I don't know; whenever we
both have the time."  I was attending graduate school about 50 miles
away, and only came home on certain weekends; when I was home, my
mother and sister always monopolized my time, so there really weren't
that many opportunities to go camping with him anyway.

     Just then, Jennifer came into the room.  "Hey, Jack," she said.
At 14, she had never called me uncle; I didn't mind.  She laid down on
the bed, close to Timothy--too close, I thought.  I gave her 'the
look', and she moved over slightly away from him, grinning at me.
"Sorry," she said.

     I just shook my head at her, then at him.  My sister and I had
threatened Timothy when he and Jennifer started dating; we'd
threatened to castrate him should he ever have sex with Jennifer
before she was ready.  He, fortunately, took us seriously, but since
he was a virgin as well, we didn't think we really had all that much
to worry about.

     Timothy reached over and tweaked Jennifer's nose, something that
always angered her.  She sat up and leaned over to tickle him.  He
grabbed her arms and held her away from him; she looked at me and
said, "Help me tickle him!"

     This being our favorite game, I only too happily obliged, moving
over the bed to reach him, and began tickling his stomach and sides.
He squealed and squirmed, trying to get away, but by now, she was
holding onto him.  I could feel his tight abs under the shirt as I
relentlessly tickled his perfect body, and as he squirmed, his muscles
moved under my hands.  I moved my body so that I was laying across his
legs, helping to pin him down; I could feel my groin coming to life as
he wiggled underneath me.    His rapid gyrations had moved him over
the bed so he was now dangling over the side; I tickled even more
ferociously than before, and over he went, with me following.  He was
giggling and gasping for air as he tried forcing his body under the
bed to get away from my ticklish attack.  Finally, I grinned and sat
up, allowing him a brief respite; I held out my hand and pulled him
back up onto the bed.  His cap had fallen off, allowing his mop of
very thick, black hair to flop around on his head.  He retrieved the
cap and put it on, always self-conscious of that mop.

********************

     About two weeks later, school was out; I had some free time, so I
invited Timothy to come down to Charlesville to go camping.  He
readily agreed, as he'd been wanting to go camping with me forever.
On the day he was due to arrive, I dutifully went over to the package
store and purchased a couple of fifths of whiskey, then bought a
couple 2-liters of coke on the way back to my apartment.  I wasn't
about to let this golden opportunity go to waste!  When Timothy
arrived, we sat and talked for a few minutes, then walked out and got
into his truck.  We drove for a while in silence, with me pointing out
directions every once in a while.  We parked the truck in the National
Forest, got out, and hiked through the woods until we found the spot
where we were going to camp.  I let Timothy set up the tent while I
set out a blanket for us to sit on; I watched his muscles moving
beneath his clothes, enjoying the view as he bent over to hammer in
the stakes.

     Finally, the tent was set up, the campfire built, and the alcohol
awaiting consumption.  Timothy sprawled out on the blanket, and I laid
down near him, a little at an angle where I could look down the length
of his body while we talked and drank.  I broke out the first fifth,
along with a bottle of ice-cold coke and 2 plastic cups, then poured
our first drinks as twilight descended around us.  I handed Timothy
his cup, then sipped from mine.  As the night wore on, I began getting
a buzz; Timothy, being younger and not as used to drinking as I was,
had more than a buzz going.  I jokingly said, "Why don't we play Truth
or Dare?"

     As I laughed, he said, "Sure, why not?" I stopped laughing, then
looked at him and asked, "Are you sure you wanna play?  It's just you
and me; it could get a bit raunchy and out of control." He smiled and
said, "That's fine; I don't care."

     I sat up and grinned.  "Ok, if that's what you want.  You start."

     "Ok."  He looked thoughtful, then asked, "Truth or dare?"

     "Truth."

     "Ok.  Uhm...are you drunk?"

     I laughed at his first question, then answered truthfully, "Not
really; I'm buzzing, but that's about it so far."  The truth was, once
he agreed to play, my buzz started dissipating; I wanted to be sober
for this.  "Ok, my turn," I said.  "Truth or dare?"

     "Dare."   Grinning, I said, "Ok, I dare you to down the rest of
your drink in one gulp."

     He had about half a cup of whiskey and coke left; looking me
straight in the eye, he upended the cup and drained it.  Immediately,
he coughed, but managed to keep from spitting it out.  I applauded
him, then told him it was his turn.  This time, I chose dare.

     "I dare you to...uhm...bark like a dog."

     I obliged, then when he chose truth, I asked, "What's the
furthest you've gone with a girl?"

     He was pouring himself some more whiskey, and nearly dropped the
bottle, turning red from my question.  "Kissing."

     I raised an eyebrow at him.  "Are you sure that's as far as
you've gone?"

     He nodded; I decided to believe him, and chose truth when he
asked.  "What's the furthest you've gone with someone?" Since he
phrased it as 'someone', rather than 'a girl', I could answer
truthfully, and told him I'd done it all.  He looked more interested,
but then it was my turn.  He chose dare, so I came up with a good one,
one that would let my eyes feast on at least part of his body.  "I
dare you to take off your shirt and your shoes and socks."

     He looked quizzically at me, but since it was rather warm out,
and he was even warmer from the alcohol that was taking an even
greater grip on him, he removed his shirt, then started untying his
shoes.  I let my eyes rake over his young, smooth body; I'd never seen
him without a shirt, as he was usually quite modest about his body.
His chest, while small, was well in proportion to the rest of him and
well muscled; his abs, which until then I'd only felt through his
shirt while tickling him, were firm and ridged, looking enticing and
entirely lickable in the dancing firelight.  Finally, his shoes and
socks came off; he sat there on the blanket wearing only his jeans,
and presumable his underwear.

     My turn to choose; I chose dare.  He asked me to remove my shirt
and shoes/socks, so I did.  Now we were sitting there, both of us
wearing only jeans, in the flicker of the campfire's flames, in the
woods on a warm, May evening.  I was starting to get hard, just
thinking about how wonderfully this evening was going.  Timothy chose
truth; so I asked him what kinds of things turned him on.  He blushed
again, then answered, "I don't really know.  I think I'd like to have
my thighs licked, and maybe to be sucked off, but all I've done is
kiss; so, I'm not sure."

     I smiled at him and said, "Well, I'm sure you'll eventually find
out."     I chose dare; he told me to get on my hands and knees and
crawl around like a goat.  I did, even grabbing hold of the cuff of
his jeans and pretending to eat them.  He was giggling; the alcohol
was definitely getting to him.  He drank some more, then asked me if I
was drunk yet, because he thought he was.  I told him that was a
question he'd have to ask me when I chose a truth, then smirked at
him.  He found that funny and laughed loudly.  Then, I asked him if he
wanted truth or dare; he chose dare.

     I told him to dance around the fire like an aborigine; once I
explained what an aborigine was, he did it, looking quite comical, and
sexy, as his body gyrated around the flames.  I watched his raw,
naked, unadorned muscles gracefully flowing, then laughed as he
collapsed in a heap next to me.  He grinned, his face bathed bronze by
the fire, then said, "My turn.  Truth or dare?"

     After what I had just had him do, I wasn't sure if dare was an
option this soon, so I chose truth.  He then asked me if I was drunk.
I lied and said I was a bit tipsy.  I was making sure that his cup was
never empty; he didn't even notice that I wasn't drinking much of mine
at all.  He chose dare again, so I decided to have a little fun; I
dared him to take the fifth of whiskey and pretend to give it a blow
job.  He gave me a strange look, but grabbed the bottle and put the
neck of it, with the lid on, into his mouth.  He began moving it back
and forth between his lips, although it was more than obvious he
didn't have a clue what he was doing.

     Finally, he dropped the bottle into his lap and asked, "How was
that?"

     "Not bad," I answered.  For my next turn, I chose dare.

     "Ok, now it's YOUR turn to give the bottle a blow job."  He
smirked like a Cheshire cat, as if I weren't expecting him to dare me
to do that at all.  I grinned, then reached into his lap for the
bottle.  He gasped just a little as the tips of my fingers brushed his
crotch, then I took the bottle and brought it up to my mouth.

     I took the bottle and licked around the neck for a little while,
my tongue making sensuous strokes around and around, occasionally
pursing my lips on the side of the neck.  Then, I moved the bottle so
the very tip was touching my lips; I carefully inserted it a fraction,
moved my lips and tongue, and proceeded to blow the hell out of that
bottle.  The whole time, I kept my eyes on Timothy's face, watching
his eyes grow huge as he watched.  Once I was deep-throating the
bottle, taking it's neck as far into my mouth as I could, I pulled the
bottle out, set it gently back into his lap, again brushing his crotch
and this time finding him rather hard, then asked, "How was that?"

     He gulped a little, then managed to whisper, "Not bad."

     I winked at him, then asked, "Truth or dare?"

     He decided to go with truth, which was exactly what I wanted him
to say.  "Did you get turned on by my giving the bottle a blow job?  I
warn you, I WILL find out if you're lying or not."  I smirked at him,
then looked down at his crotch.  He turned very, very red, then
answered, "A little."

     I let it go at that; I knew he was more turned on than he was
telling, but he also DID admit that it turned him on, so I didn't
bother following through with my threat of grabbing his crotch to see
if he was hard.  I already knew.  He grabbed his cup and drained it,
then handed it to me to refill.  As I grabbed the bottle once again
from his lap, I heard a little yelp, then looked down; my fingers had
accidently brushed against his hardon much harder than I'd intended,
and now he knew that I was aware of his erection.  I smiled and asked
him if I'd hurt him; he shook his head, looking confused and scared.
I opened the bottle, poured him a larger shot than before, and put in
a small amount of coke.  He accepted the cup and drank deeply; I set
the bottle aside.

     "Ok; I think I'll go with dare, whenever you're ready to go."  I
grinned at his discomfort.

     He swallowed, then said, "I dare...I dare you to...to...to unzip
my pants with your teeth."  I thought he was going to keel over from
embarrassment, but he managed to get the words out, then blushed his
brightest shade of crimson yet.

     "Do you really want me to do that?"  I asked, pretending
amazement at his dare.  When he nodded, I said, "Ok; I'll need to you
lie on your back."

     He obeyed, and I got to my knees, crawled over to his groin, and
moved my head down.  I could feel his fear literally erupting from his
body in hot, undulating waves; his abs were glistening from sweat.  I
moved my face down to his crotch, then used my tongue to find his
zipper; once I found it, I slowly used my teeth to slide it down,
down, down.  I could feel his massive hardon beneath his jeans,
straining against the restrictive denim; as his zipper moved down, his
white underwear shined in the flame-lit darkness, showing a definite
bulge.  Once I had him unzipped, I moved back up and licked his
bulging briefs; his ensuing yelp sounded like a scream in the
stillness.  I moved my tongue up and down his shaft, feeling the
cotton of his briefs rasping against my tongue; my hands moved up to
his naked abdomen and chest, rubbing over his sweaty skin, pinching
his nipples.  His moans were primal, raw, and awakened a deeper desire
in me than I'd ever known before.

     The tip of his cock peeked over the waistband of his briefs,
perhaps looking to see what excited it so much.  I moved my mouth up
towards it, licking around the opening; his moans turned into
desperate pleas to suck his cock.

     "Please, please suck it; it feels so good...I never knew if felt
like this!"  His breath was coming in big gasps; his hands found the
back of my head and began playing with my hair.  My hands moved
downwards to grasp his jeans; I slowly pulled them off without missing
a lick.  Then, I sat up so I could admire his body; the flickering
firelight outlined his body with a bronze glow, illuminating each of
his muscles, basking him in sensual golden light.  I smiled down at
him, then pulled his underwear off.  He lay there in his naked glory,
his large cock standing tall and demanding attention.  Instead, I
pulled my jeans and underwear off, then lay down on top of him,
stretching my body langurously over his own; I found his mouth, then
gave him a deep, passionate kiss.  He responded warmly, tasting
strongly of alcohol.

     I moved on to his neck, sucking and licking every inch of his
warm throat, feeling his pulse in the jugular vein; moving down, I
licked his beautiful chest, finding his nipples erect and perfect.
His hard abs were a sharp contrast to the softness of his skin; my
hands had a mind of their own while my mouth were exploring.  I
grasped his pelvis, massaging circularly, then moved on to his cock;
his body writhed under the ministrations of my mouth and hands.  I
moved down to his legs, keeping my hands on the meat of the matter,
and licked his hairy thighs; he almost screamed when my tongue probed
the soft inner thigh and my hair brushed his scrotum.

     I moved back up to suck him off, and his moans of pleasure
intensified even more as my lips wrapped themselves around his hard
shaft, my nose buried in his pubic hair.  I moved a hand down to my
own cock, which was painfully erect and demanded attention of its own.
I moved my lips up and down his shaft, delighting in the spasms his
body was having.  My tongue continuously washed over his cock, and I
could feel the first spasms as he neared climax.  My hand moved faster
of my dick, as I wanted to cum when he did.

     Timothy's breathing came in gasps as his body arched up to my
face; then, I felt the first spurts of his seed as his hands painfully
grasped my hair and pulled.  I came at the same time, feeding on his
pleasure as my jism spurted on his thighs.  He began shrieking, "Oh my
god!" over and over again, pumping his manly cream down my throat.
Finally, exhausted, I collapsed on top of him, feeling his still-hard
cock pressed against my stomach.  My hand reached out and found his,
clenching my fingers into his.

     Finally, I was able to look up at face; tears were streaming from
his eyes.  Concerned, I sat up, then pulled him up into a sitting
position and held him in my arms.  "What's wrong?" I asked.

     He sobbed for a moment, then managed to stutter, "That was just
so wonderful; no one's ever d..done that for me b..bef..ore."  His
arms tightened around me.  "Thanks, Jack.  Thank you so much."

     I held his lovely body, felt his body heat against my own, and
rocked him slowly, content with merely holding him.  Eventually, he
fell asleep, so I laid him down on the blanket, stretched out beside
him, pulled him back into my arms, and fell fast asleep myself.