Date: Sat, 9 Dec 2017 14:13:59 -0600
From: G Jones <geojonsey@gmail.com>
Subject: Ken and I - Part 32

Ken and I - Part 32

Over the course of the week I went through quite a few carrots. During the
day I'd choose the one I'd use, and slip it into my nightstand. I'm not
exactly sure what I would've told my mother if she'd discovered one, but
fortunately she didn't typically go through those drawers since I didn't
keep any clothes in there. I also took notice that I'd used quite a bit of
Vaseline; the little jar was about half empty so I hoped that if she looked
she wouldn't remember how much had been in it. I resolved to try to use
only a little instead of scooping out so much every time.

I momentarily panicked near the end of the week when my mom was making
dinner and commented that she thought she'd just bought a full bag.

"Are you turning into a rabbit?" my mother asked me.

"What?"

"A rabbit. Have you been eating all the carrots?"

"Uhm, yeah, I guess I have been", I replied, hoping that mom wouldn't
notice the weird look on my face.  I called Ken's place everyday to see how
he and Jamie were doing; his mother thought I was such a good friend for
checking up on them like that. Not that I wasn't, and I did genuinely want
them to feel better, but of course I also had ulterior motives. As good as
the carrots felt, I had now become obsessed with needing to feel a real
dick inside of me.

I'd even toyed with the idea of visiting David again, but I wasn't sure I
was ready to do that. Not because I was a little afraid of trying to take
his huge prick, which I was, but because I wasn't quite sure yet how to
proceed with him. I still hadn't resolved what I would tell Ken. He hadn't
been upset about what I'd done with Daryl when I told him, but maybe that
was different because he lived so far away. School would be starting up in
less than a week and I was worried that if I didn't tell Ken anything, that
he'd somehow figure it out when he saw David and I being friendly. I also
still wondered if David knew, or guessed, that there was more going on
between Ken and I than he'd let on. Somehow it felt easier to keep
everything separate during the summer holidays. The more I thought about
it, the more I dreaded going back.

By dinner time I had worried myself into a foul mood. I managed not to lash
out when my parents questioned me about it. I told them it was because it
was time to go back to school, which was true, but of course I didn't tell
them exactly why.

"Are you sure that's all?" my mom asked.

"Yeah", I mumbled while shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.

"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?" my dad added.

"Yeah, I know, I'm fine okay? It's nothing", I replied sullenly, "... may I
be excused? I'm done eating."

I think my mom had been about to say something else, but she must've seen
the 'back-the-fuck-off' look in my eyes and said nothing. Maybe my parents
had sensed that this was not the time to push the subject, or maybe they
were coming to terms with the fact that I was turning into the
stereotypical moody teenager. In either case, I was excused and returned to
my room.

I turned on the small radio on my nightstand and flopped down on my bed.

What was I going to do? My usual response was to avoid issues, but I didn't
think that would work in this case.  Or maybe I was blowing things out of
proportion. There was no real reason I couldn't legitimately have become
friends with David over the summer. I wished I hadn't told Ken about the
bathroom incident, but I couldn't take that back. The fact that I had
talked to Ken about David's dick colored all future conversations about him
in a sexual way. At least that's what it seemed like in my mind. Every time
I'd interact with David at school, Ken would think about what I'd told him,
wouldn't he? He'd think I was attracted to David, that I wanted to mess
around with him. That wasn't necessarily wrong, but that wasn't all there
was to it. Although I hadn't spend a great deal of time with him, I had
genuinely enjoyed being with him, not just when we'd fooled around. I was
finding David to be interesting and thought that he'd be fun to hang out
with. Once you got past his strange sort of style of interaction, he seemed
kind, intelligent and funny, all with a certain sense of maturity.

I tried to compare that to how I felt about Ken. He was interesting too,
but in a different way. Outside of messing around with Ken, we didn't seem
to have that much in common. Sure, we'd talk about school or what we'd seen
on TV, or make stupid jokes. For the most part, we were typical 14 year old
boys when we were together. But it seemed to me that in the fairly short
time I'd spent with David, we already had this weird sort of deeper
connection. Daryl and I had a deep connection, but that too was different
from this. It was hard to work through all these feelings; it was all so
new to me and I had no real experience to draw upon. And despite my parents
telling me I could talk to them about anything, this wasn't it; no way!

I picked up a book, hoping that I could lose myself in a story and not have
to think about this anymore. I'd recently started reading Lord of the Rings
and was soon engrossed in the middle earth adventure, imagining I was part
of the fellowship.

I was brought back to reality when my mother knocked and told me that Ken
was on the phone; I'd been so into the book that I hadn't even heard it
ring. Ken told me that he was feeling better and that tomorrow night Jamie
would be at a birthday sleepover and that his parents were going to be
out. He asked me to stay over, which I quickly cleared with my folks. For
the moment, my earlier worries were forgotten; I was thinking about the fun
I'd have tomorrow night.

"Well, someone's in a better mood suddenly", my mother commented after I'd
hung up the phone.

"I guess", I said, trying to downplay the phone call's role in my mood
swing.

"Maybe you were just missing your buddy?"

I couldn't quite tell if my mom was serious or not, "Oh my god mom, I'm not
five years old."

"Mm, well you'll forgive me, but these days it's hard to tell sometimes",
mom said, earning her the best teen boy eye roll I could muster.

I returned to my room and resumed reading, determined I wasn't going to
dwell on my earlier concerns. I also decided that the carrot I'd stashed in
my nightstand earlier was going to remain unused tonight. In fact, I'd
decided I wouldn't masturbate at all, saving it all for my sleepover with
Ken. Of course, even just thinking about not masturbating seemed to cause
my dick to start to swell, as though it was asking if I was sure. Fucking
hormones. I concentrated harder on the book; thankfully I was a nerd and
was eventually able to lose myself in the fantasy story again.

Eventually I fell asleep while reading; I recall having a strange dream
about being at school, except it wasn't my school, or at least I didn't
recognize it. I was searching for my classroom, but couldn't seem to find
it. As I walked around I noticed that some boys were at their lockers
getting changed, some in their underwear or even naked.  As I kept
wandering around I realized that I needed to pee so the search for a
classroom turned into a search for a bathroom. The urgency to pee kept
increasing, and I finally found a bathroom; it had a very weird layout,
with a set of stalls along the wall, but also urinals arranged along a low
wall, with the urinals on both sides so you'd actually be face to face with
someone if they were on the other side. I hurried to the first stall I
could find, opened my pants and hauled myself out to piss. A very strong
stream started and I suddenly woke up. I hadn't peed the bed or anything,
but I realized I desperately needed to go and thought to myself that if I
hadn't woken up at that precise time I likely would've had an embarrassing
accident. I practically bolted to the bathroom so that I could relieve
myself. The house was already dark, although I wasn't sure what time it
was. I also brushed my teeth before heading back to my bedroom. I
undressed, but was too tired to look for my pajamas, so I slipped under the
covers wearing just my briefs, and quickly fell back asleep.

I awoke Saturday morning with my usual wood. Correction, it seemed more
than usual; likely because I hadn't masturbated the previous day or
night. I don't think my dick was any harder than normal, it was more that
the urge to touch it, stroke it and shoot a hot load of spunk on me was
almost overwhelming. It was like my dick was having a conversation with my
brain telling me that it was silly and stupid to wait, why not make
yourself feel good right now, really good! Ordinarily I would've quickly
given in, it was logic that was difficult for my hormone fueled brain to
refute. Somehow I managed to stay strong, thinking that the increased level
of horniness would keep me from chickening out with Ken. As much as the
carrots had been feeling good, and as much as I wanted to experience the
real thing, there were still some nerves and apprehension to deal
with. This was going to be with a real person!

I was on pins and needles for most of the day, trying to keep my boners
under some semblance of control. What I thought about didn't seem to make
any difference; in the end I just accepted that I couldn't do anything
about it, at least not the one thing I knew would help. By lunch time I was
tired of trying to bend, turn and contort myself around my mom so that she
wouldn't see. I decided to put on a second pair of briefs overtop the pair
I was already wearing; they were the smallest, tightest pair I had. There
was still a slight bulge, but at least my shorts weren't tenting out
obscenely.

I managed to get through dinner with my parents without incident. For the
most part I kept my mouth shut unless I was asked a specific question; I
did my best to answer in as few words as possible. The last thing I wanted
to do was piss them off and have them tell me that I couldn't go over to
Ken's, especially knowing that the two of us would be on our own for a good
part of the night. Not that we weren't old enough to stay on our own, but I
guess there was always that worry that two 14 year old boys might get up to
no good.

After dinner I packed a small backpack with my toothbrush and pajamas, even
though I doubted I'd have much use for the latter. As I was in the bathroom
getting my toothbrush it occurred to me that another item might come in
handy. I stuffed the small jar of Vaseline into my pack, hoping that
tonight wouldn't be the time that my mom went to look for it. It also
occurred to me that I should probably clean myself down there, and while I
was at it I sniffed one of my pits; the odor reminded me that I hadn't
showered since the previous morning.

As I stripped, I remembered something that hadn't happened in quite a
while, not since I was ten or eleven.  Sometimes when I'd been sick as a
kid, mom would give me an enema; she'd heard from one of her friends that
it helped with certain things. Whether it did or not, I couldn't really
say. What I can say is that I hadn't been fond of having my mother sticking
a hose up my butt, especially not at eleven when being any sort of naked
around your mom was something you avoided at all cost. I don't remember
exactly why the enemas stopped at around that age; either I revolted or mom
had decided that she needed to spare me further indignity, although somehow
I doubted that.

In any case, I wondered if she'd kept the rubber bag and hose, not that I
was going to ask her for it. That was not a conversation in which I wanted
to engage her. I looked under the sink, and then in the towel closet; there
at the back of one of the shelves was the box with said items. I took it,
for a moment considered just putting it back, but then decided that it was
something I needed to do. I opened the bathroom door a crack and shouted to
my parents that I was going to take a shower before going over to Ken's; I
closed and locked the door, not sure whether my parents had responded or
not. I opened the box and read the instructions, not that there was much to
it; I didn't have anything to mix with the water, nor did I have distilled
water, but I figured some warm tap water would work just as well for this
purpose. I filled the bag, sealed it with the tube stopper and clamped the
hose. Using a bit of the Vaseline, I lubricated the end of the hose and my
hole; I hung the bag and positioned myself on the floor, and then carefully
inserted the hose. After my experience with the carrots, this felt like
nothing. I took a deep breath and released the clamp, feeling the warm
water begin to flow into me.

I hadn't really recalled any of the sensations that came along with doing
this; as I filled with the water, I could feel some pressure building
inside of me, the kind that usually meant I needed to go. The other thing
that happened is that the more water and pressure that built up, the more
my dick began to harden until it was solidly pointing up. I suddenly
wondered if my dick had done that when I was a kid and mom had been giving
me the enema; even though I was alone I blushed and tried to erase the
thought from my mind.

I realized the bag was now empty and I felt an urgent need to get on the
toilet. As the water splashed out of me, I felt a huge sense of relief. I
sat there for a few minutes until I felt I was thoroughly empty. I flushed
and jumped into the shower, taking the hose with me so that I could wash it
with soap and water. I was still partly erect, but did my best to ignore
it; I washed it as quickly as I could, not wanting to linger in case the
desire to stroke myself to orgasm became to great.

I finished my shower, stepped out and began to dry off. I couldn't help but
laugh a little when I thought to myself that I was now thoroughly clean,
inside and out. I also dried the enema hose as best I could; there wasn't
much I could do to dry the inside of the bag, but I couldn't leave it
sitting out either. I dried the outside, put it in the box with the opening
facing up, but left the top of the box open before putting it back on the
shelf. I hoped mom wouldn't notice before I'd have a chance to close the
box properly the next day, but I figured I was pretty safe as the box
wasn't easily visible at a glance.

I figured I'd might as well put on some clean clothes rather than the ones
I'd just taken off, so I wrapped the towel around my waist, grabbed my
stuff and went to my room. As I did, mom said that Ken had called to say
that I should come over now; I probably set a new record for how quickly I
was dressed, out of the house and standing at his door ringing the bell. I
couldn't even remember what I shouted at my parents as I left.

"Eager much?" he grinned at me as he opened the door to let me in.

"I know how much you've missed me, I didn't want you to start crying", I
teased back.

"Oh yeah, I've been bawling myself to sleep every night this week."

"Weird, I figured you'd have been too sick with the flu to ball yourself at
night", I laughed, making sure to emphasize the word 'ball' and making a
stroking motion with my hand.

"Fuck you", Ken said, "you have no idea! I haven't busted a nut all week,
my balls are ready to explode!"

"Geez, all week", I replied, "... surprised you didn't have a wet dream."

"No kidding, but that could've been pretty awkward with mom hovering all
the time, and needing help to get up."

"Ha ha, yeah ... but I'm sure she knows what a mess you make in your
underwear, bed sheets, and wherever else you squirt. Maybe she would've
given you a nice sponge bath to clean your little dinky."

"Fuck, fuck you", Ken shouted, "oh man, that would be soooo gross to have
my mom washing my junk. Ewww.  You're so lucky my balls are aching to bust
a load, otherwise that comment would've killed it."

"So I guess there's no point in watching some TV first and waiting until
later tonight?" I teased.

"Are you kidding? The way I feel right, we'll do it right now and again
later", Ken said, laughing and quickly adding, "and probably again
later. So get your ass downstairs right now!"

"Oooh, or what?" I teased as I purposely took my time going down the
stairs.

"I'll pound your ass so hard, you'll be crying for mercy!"

I knew Ken was talking about laying a spanking on me; I couldn't help but
smile at the double meaning it had for me. Admittedly, for some reason the
prospect of Ken physically punishing me gave me a thrill as well, but that
would have to wait for some other time.

I went straight to Ken's bedroom and threw my backpack on the floor. I
turned around to find Ken was inches from me; he grabbed me and put his
lips on mine. Not a tender, tentative kiss, but a hard, urgent kiss; a
starving man getting his first taste of food in days. His one hand held the
back of my neck, the other my shoulder; his mouth forced against mine, his
tongue mashing my tongue. I was instantly rock hard, and I could feel Ken's
hard cock pushing against me as we kissed.

Ken's hands moved down to the edge of my t-shirt, pulling it up and causing
us to momentarily separate as he tugged it over my head. I did the same to
him; we resumed kissing as our hands fumbled with each others shorts,
undoing them and letting them drop to the floor. We grabbed the waistbands
of our own briefs, struggling to push them down without interrupting our
kiss.

I took my mouth off Ken's and sank to my knees. His cock looked beyond
hard, the head engorged and dark with blood, precum leaking from the slit;
his balls were swollen and tight rather than hanging loosely below. I put
my hands on his hips; I could feel Ken tremble with excitement as I blew
air on the wet tip causing him to shiver.

"Fuckkk", Ken hissed, putting his hand on my head and pulling me forward,
"suck me now!"

I let my lips part as his stiff teen prick slid into my mouth. Ken let out
a deep groan as I enveloped him, his cock sliding along my tongue on its
way to the back of my throat. I nearly gagged and pulled back slightly; I
sucked him hard, in synch with the urgency of his moans and the tight grip
on my hair.

I knew Ken wanted desperately to cum, but I had plans of my own. I thought
that rather than waiting and talking to Ken about fucking me, I would
simply do it before he'd have a chance to think about it. As his cock slid
back, I took my hand and wrapped it around the base of his shaft,
preventing him from shoving it back in. I pushed against his hand with my
head causing him to slip out of my mouth entirely.

Ken groaned, "Fuck, come on Martin ... fuck I want it so bad, I need it!"

As I stood, I pushed him towards and onto his bed. Ken's eyes were locked
on me, and I could see the lust behind them. I couldn't remember seeing him
quite the same way before; I knew it was me that he wanted, but in that
moment I think I might have been anyone. I was someone that was going to
get him off. Ken's desperate desire was turning me on and fueling my own
desire; I felt like there was something hot about the way he needed me, the
way he wanted to use me.

I quickly slipped off his bed and went to my pack to grab the Vaseline.

"Fuck, what the hell ... where are you going?" Ken complained.

"Shut up, you're going to love this", I replied.

I was already opening the jar and getting some on my fingers; Ken hadn't
even processed what I was holding when I rubbed it all over his cock. I
took another finger full, put the jar on his nightstand and rubbed it on my
hole. Ken's eyes were wide open as he started to catch on; I could feel
myself shaking slightly as I jumped back on the bed and quickly straddled
him.

"What the ...", Ken started to say, the rest of the words catching in his
throat as he moaned with me grabbing him and lining him up against me.

"Are you sure?" was the only thing he said as I attempted to push myself
down on him.

I looked at him with the same deep lust that I'd seen on his face in
response to his question. On the first few attempts, the head of his cock
slipped away from my hole, running up between my cheeks instead. It still
caused Ken to moan loudly; I knew Ken was unlikely to last long in his
current state, but I was determined to feel him inside me when he unloaded.

I lifted my ass again and tried to more firmly grasp and hold his dick; I
brought myself down until I felt the tip against my hole. Holding him as
firmly as I could, I let myself drop slightly. I hissed and held my breath
as the head slipped partly into me; despite my practice with the carrots,
his cock stretched me open with some pain.

"Are you okay?" Ken asked.

"Fine, just give me a second", I replied, knowing I didn't want to stop
what I'd started in case I lost the nerve to try it again.

I was touched by his concern, but wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to
stop either in his current condition. I took a deep breath and pushed
myself further down; the head and part of the shaft were now inside of
me. Some of the pain began to morph into pleasure; I groaned loudly and
held myself for a moment. Ken moaned as well, and his eyes practically
rolled back in their sockets.

"Fuckkkkk", he shouted as I slowly slid further down until he was almost
fully inside me.

I slowly lifted myself up and pushed myself back down; with every
repetition it was feeling better. I was being fucked. The thought of it, of
Ken being inside me like this, was as exciting as the actual feeling,
perhaps even better during this first time. I could feel Ken starting to
rise to meet me as I'd slide back down; I could also tell that his
movements were becoming much more urgent than my slow riding. I knew he'd
cum soon, and that thought also excited me. I'd pretty much ignored my own
cock this whole time at Ken's, but with each thrust and movement, it bobbed
up and then slapped down on his belly, marking him with splashes of precum.

Ken grabbed my hips and thrusted up into me a few more times, "Martin, ohhh
fuckkk ... fuckkk, I'm gonna ..."

I grabbed my cock and could feel that my own orgasm was impending. Ken held
me down tight against him, his cock fully buried in my ass as he began to
flood me with a week's worth of his cum. I almost thought he was going to
pass out from the sheer pleasure I could see on his face; his whole upper
body had flushed red with his orgasm. I stroked myself once or twice and
also began to cum, rope after rope of my creamy white spunk splashing on
Ken's body, the first few shots hitting his neck and chin. My orgasm caused
my ass to tightly grip his cock with each contraction, earning renewed
moans of pleasure from Ken.

We were both sweating profusely; I collapsed on Ken, exhausted from our
brief, but frantic coupling. The heat from the sticky skin of his chest
against mine felt good; we were both breathing heavily as though we'd run a
race. I left Ken's cock inside me, letting it slowly slip out on its own as
his steely shaft began to soften.

"Holy fuck Martin", Ken finally said between breaths.

"Yeah", was all I could say in response.

I'd finally been fucked; the emotions and adrenaline were practically
overwhelming, and for the moment I was unable to form any coherent thoughts
about what might be next.