The following story is for adults and contains descriptions of sexual contact between adolescent males. If you are a minor, then it is illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and settings are the product of my over-active imagination. I hope you like it. firstname.lastname@example.org
For Your Eyes only
by Eliot Moore
Six (December 2006)
Glyn joined the basketball team and went out for a part in the junior drama. That kept him busy three or four times a week. Brittany showed a great deal more interest in Glyn than she had in me. She consumed an unexpected amount of Glyn’s free time. Even so, once a week we found ourselves together walking home in the snow. We would linger on the icy sidewalks as we talked about everything except Brittany. At times we would be joined by one or other of our friends. I confess I liked our private walks. I went to his house occasionally. I sometimes saw Pino. Glyn preferred stopping at my place. It was a long walk from my house to his and I think he was conscious of that, but I think Glyn favoured my house because we had it to ourselves most of the time. Dad worked till after six and mother was like as not on an afternoon shift at the hospital. When you are fourteen, you measure your worth against your friend’s. I took Justin very much for granted at that time and Nate and I were not that close. Glyn was such a gregarious person that I often wondered back then if his friendship meant more to me than mine did to him. As fall gave way to winter and Christmas drew closer I carefully kept a schedule as I walked to and fro. I left the house at 8:15 every morning. There would be a pause when I reached the sidewalk and a moment standing in the cold as I waited for Glyn to make his way down the block. At 3:30 I would walk to the corner leading to my street. Glyn might be talking with friends, but when I reached him we crossed the street together.
Pino found ways to see me. He knew I worked weekends and rode the bus down town. It was rarely busy so we had time to talk. I taught him how to make a mocha cappuccino. I could always find a reason to shift things around down in the basement and we stole a few minutes to tease each other. I could tickle him and try to force his name from his lips. I often threatened to blow his head off; for every time I saw him he had my necklace around his neck. It was frustrating. We wanted to get back to the game. I wanted him to creep up my back stairs and steal the key from the little toy safe tacked beside the back door.
My frustration ended two weeks before Christmas in math class. I was in a good mood that day. At the end of drama class my teacher had pulled me aside and asked me to take over one of the parts in the festival play Glyn was doing. I had regretted not trying out with him. I wanted to do the play and I wanted to spend more time with Glyn. He beamed when I said I would. She handed me a script and Glyn and I left the room. He was full of plans.
I let the rest of the day slip by and only had the class of Math to endure and then the school day was done. “So we are on for tomorrow tonight right?” Justin needed some reassurance that I would not back out on my promise to go to a movie with Jessica Prefontaine. “Mom’s on night shift so we could cut back to my place and hang out afterward.”
“Yes sure,” another reason to be in a good mood. It had been over a month since Brittany had broken up with me and I knew it was probably time to move on. I had let the game with Pino and my time with Glyn preoccupy my imagination too much. Justin’s prodding was just the thing I needed. Our teacher began and I opened my notebook. I managed well enough in math. It was the sort of course I needed to pay attention to. It was after the explanations were done and he gave us some problems to do that I noticed my calculator was missing. It wasn’t in the binder pocket where I usually left it. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Justin whispered.
“I left my calculator at home.” Justin offered to share his with me. I checked through the pack again and felt something in the empty pocket. It was a small school picture of Pino. I smiled a little as I tried to figure out when Pino had the opportunity to take it. I flipped the picture over to see if he had written anything.
“Trust me Si; it’s going to be really sweet tonight. Jessica said she really likes you.” I stared at Justin with a vacant expression on my face. The prospect of making it with Jessica Prefontaine faded from my mind. After school Thursday, Pino had written.
Mom was home when I ditched Justin and Nate. That was a disappointment. I considered letting Pino find his way to the third floor where we would have more privacy. It would not be comfortable on a December weekend. Dad had blocked the registers. It would be very cold. I wanted to save the attic room for later. If I played it right Pino might not see it for some time. I told her Pino was coming over and she told me to keep things down. She planned to sleep before her late shift. I told her she would never know we were there. She retreated to her room and I went to double check my supplies.
It was already growing dark. I sat on my bed and watched the incongruous new door in my bedroom wall. Stage one in dad’s master plan: put a new door in the wall, and stage two was to wait forever for Peter to begin on the back steps. I cradled John’s Spider 08 in my lap and tried to read my English homework. Pino must have hurried from his place; I could hear him as he climbed the wooden steps. He would have to pause and open the toy safe nailed to the railing. I had a moment’s panic. I had placed the box there in the fall. Snow and ice might have gummed up the cheap lock. After a long silence Pino unlocked the deadbolt. A wave of cold air washed over me as he entered. I waited till he secured the door.
“So we meet again 004.” Pino hesitated with his back to me. “It is too late to think about running Pino. I have the advantage here.” “Perhaps not,” and Pino spun around suddenly. He had a toy gun in his fist. That was an interesting development. I remembered my brief suggestion that the tables might be turned. I considered the idea briefly and then rejected it. Pino had been right. I liked control. I had my plans.
“Such confidence 004,” and then I simply shot him in the chest with a paintball.
Pino doubled over from the blow. He fell to his knees gasping from the sharp sting. I came over to see if he was alright. I thought his winter coat should have taken some of the impact. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded. “What’s with that Simon? What were you thinking? Now I’m dead!” He was quite upset with this seemingly unfortunate plot twist.
“That was a tranquilizer.”
“Oh,” Then Pino simply collapsed in my arms. I cradled him. His improvisation was priceless. I wished Glyn and my drama class could see him. He let me pull him into the center of my room. I took off his wet shoes tugged his socks away. I tickled one damp sole to see if Pino could keep it together. He flinched once and then went ridged. He gave no response at all as I took off his coat and sweatshirt. I ran my fingers over his hard chest and tickled a small nipple. Pino smiled. I checked his bag to see what he had brought. There was rope and candles in the bag.
“Do you need to go to the can?” Pino did not respond so I proceeded to tie his hands and feet. “We have to be quiet. Mom’s taking a nap.” I secured his arms above his head with a rope to my bed. After that we were ready to begin. I lit a few candles. “Where is my calculator?” I threw the question at him never expecting a response. I let a drop fall on his nipple. He didn’t react so I lowered the flame and tried again. Pino remained frozen in place. “Crap,” I forgot he had been knocked out. I remembered Pino’s complaint when I revived him the first time so I simply sprayed a quick spurt of Axe into his face. Pino slowly came to life. While he recovered from the sedative I rubbed the wax off his nipple.
Pino held his breath as I brought the candle back over his chest and closed his eyes when the next drop covered his erect nipple. It was much more fun dripping the wax on his front. I could see his face. He could see each drop as it fell on his body. Even so we soon tired of the activity. It was too early to give up the location of my calculator and neither of us wanted to transform his minor discomfort into real pain. I needed a new activity. I took his pants off and then I took my own shirt off. Pino was hard beneath his briefs. I pushed his legs apart and sat between his knees.
Pino began breathing heavily as I resumed playing with the candles. “When you have had enough, simply tell me where it is.” Thin threads of wax ran dangerously close to his crotch. Pino had closed his eyes again. I watched his tongue dart between his parted lips. I lowered the flame closer to his thigh so the next thread of molten wax would be hotter. It landed in the soft hollow behind the thick cord of muscle and tendon. Pino bit his lower lip to stifle a soft gasp. “Sorry,” Pino’s brows furrowed and he shook his head to let me know he was fine. I watched the next thread follow the line of the first. It disappeared beneath the band of his briefs. I put the candle aside, and then ran my fingers over his taught belly and up to his chest. I brought them down again caressing the soft skin above his hip bones. Pino’s penis stretched the grey fabric of his briefs. I could see the outline of his ridge. Two eggs flanked the base of the shaft. The clinging fabric sheathed them, cupped them. I wanted a better look. My fingers hooked the elastic. Pino’s eyes opened and met mine. He nodded imperceptibly then closed his eyes again.
He raised his hips as I slowly pulled the briefs down over the curve of his buttocks and up his legs. The briefs caught on his ankles and then came free. He held his legs high until I drew them back down, tucking his ankles behind my bum. I should have been talking. There were lines to be delivered, an interrogation to continue: my calculator, his objective, the names of his contacts, the location of the MI5 base, Pino’s name. Neither of us could talk. We were going somewhere new and all that seemed to matter was the feel of his smooth skin, the unexpected scent of his body and the long length of his shaft reaching up past two blond tufts of hair toward the deep dimple of his navel. I hesitantly slid my hand under him and slowly curled my fingers around him. The echo of my own heart beat in my straining penis. He was warm in my hand. I was entranced by the anatomy of his organ. My thumb pad pressed into the variegated flesh on the bottom of his penis and then rubbed against the soft flange. I experimented with it, pulling the clinging flesh up and down. Each tug lifted his scrotum up or squashed it beneath the heal of my fist. Through it all the only sound was Pino’s soft breathing, the only movement my hand and a slight flexing of Pino’s buttocks.
I cleared my throat and let go of him, “My calculator?” His response was to open his eyes once. I cupped him in my palm again and picked up a fresh candle, “last chance 004.”
“Queen and Country,” Pino whispered hoarsely. I began torturing his penis and scrotum with a gentle hot rain. He pulled against the ropes and offered his groin to the hovering candle. I paused when I noticed a glistening drop hang from his slit and then watched it drop onto his smooth belly. I shifted the drops to his tender crown covering the gland in translucent polka dots. “Oh God Si,” he whispered.
I blew the candle out. “Tell me or I’ll make you shoot.”
He bit his lip and shook his head vigorously. Pino’s cheeks were as inflamed as his cock. After that I began masturbating him. The bits of soft wax rolled between my fingers and his moist flesh. I played the flexing shaft between my hands like so much warm Play Dough in the hands of an eager child. Pino’s body was exciting. It was forbidden territory freely offered up to me and I felt dizzy. My own crotch begged to be freed from the constraints of my pants. My hands froze on his organ and then I fumbled with my belt and zipper. Pino whimpered for my touch. “Where is my calculator?” He shook his head and I stroked his penis again. It might have been a threat or a promise.
“Behind the books on the third shelf,” he answered desperately. I grasped him again. He strained against the rope and squeezed his long legs around my hips as if he might crush my pelvis. His wrists thrashed against the ropes. I thought he was struggling to get free that late afternoon, but now I understand he liked the tension and the reassurance he was still bound. Pino’s body froze as ridged as the flesh between my fingers. I gasped when his legs drove my own aching penis tight against his groin and then two streams of semen jetted out. I stared at the small lines. My hand kneaded the softening flesh as it shrank away. Pino’s legs fell away from around me. I reluctantly let go of him and wiped his body with my shirt. He watched me as I sopped up the traces of his ejaculation. I smiled at him and I think he was reassured by that. I untied his wrists and he sat on the carpet with his legs crossed. I sat behind him with my back against the bed. He was hunched over so I reached out and drew his arms gently behind his back. When I had his wrists crossed, I hooked the bone necklace with a few fingers and pulled him back against my chest. His hands pressed against my crotch and my hard penis pressed back. Pino wrapped his finger around it and squeezed slightly. We had not spoken since he gave up his secret. I ran a hand over his chest and my other hand wandered down to his groin. My fingers found his dangling penis and I teased it.
“I think I found something more effective than tickling you Pino. You are going to be at my mercy now.” Pino giggled at that; an honest giggle. He squeezed my penis again. Candle wax was no longer so exciting. We had found our way to a more interesting version of the game. “Give me your name.”
“Not yet,” but there was a brightness to his voice and his fingers tried to explore my crotch. I fought the impulse to kiss the back of his head. Pino was still waiting for something I didn’t understand. I wanted to put my hands on him again, but I sensed we should leave it for another time. I pulled his hands free of my crotch and settled him against me for one last moment. Pino felt better against my chest than Brittany had. I guess I just liked him more.
He finally leaned away from me and reached for his underwear. I watched sadly as he pulled the fabric over his bum. He crawled around my bedroom floor retrieving his clothing. I sat following him with my eyes. Once dressed, he slipped out of my room and went to the bathroom. While he was gone I shoved my soiled shirt under my pillow and rummaged through a drawer looking for something to pull on. I gathered the candles and rope and stuffed it all back into his bag. “I wish I was in high school like you and Glyn. We could talk more.”
“Next year,” Pino looked at my empty desk, but didn’t voice his thought.
“I go on at school almost every day. I go to the store to do my homework too. You could send me an email on the school account. Just don’t say anything dirty or they will cut you off. Nate lost his account for a month. I have an MSN account to. We could chat when I’m at the store.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I have to go out.” I thought of Jessica Prefontaine and Justin’s empty home.
“I was hoping to see this mysterious third floor of yours.” Pino walked over to the bookshelf and examined it. “How does it open? Is there a secret latch?”
“It’s not that special. Give it a pull.” Pino glanced at me and then gripped the shelf and it slid toward him on creaky wheels.”
“No just dad being cheap. He won’t buy a door. That old book shelf sort of fit in the space, so he screwed some chipboard to the back and shoved it in there. He keeps promising to let me move to another room. The cold air leaks in.”
“You’re all alone up here.” Pino pushed the shelf a little farther into the room.
“Get out of there Pino, that’s still top secret.” He looked at me over his shoulder. I saw Pino differently now. I saw him naked. He pushed the shelf back into the doorway. While he looked at my books, I looked at the way his faded jeans draped over his rear. “Paul and John still have rooms. They come back quite a bit so Dad and mom won’t let me move. Are you busy this weekend?” Pino reached behind a row of books and pulled my calculator out. He tossed it to me and I dropped it into my open book bag.
“I don’t know.” He was thirteen. Parents had a way of springing stuff on kids at the last moment. We settled down together on the floor and played a game until the phone rang and he was called home for supper.
Mom was still sleeping and dad would be closing up the store. I lay on the bed and draped my semen-stained shirt over my face. It was a little less kinky than sniffing Pino’s underwear, but it excited me just as much. When I was close, I expelled my own contribution over the crusted memories of Pino.