Hey guys. For those of you who've read Problems (yeah, right) I've temporarily abandoned it. Sorry. For those of you who haven't, it's totally unrelated. so don't worry.
This story, unlike that one, is a lot more about, well, sex. It's much more erotica than anything else, which makes sense, given where it's posted. :p It's inspired heavily by the Skateboarder Ryan series, in Young Friends. Good stuff. There's still, however, a significant and (I hope) engaging storyline behind the sex, which will show some development over the eventually-long parts of this story. If you have comments - travis DOT bard AT gmail DOT com .
Okay, guys. Enjoy yourselves. Without further ado, here's:
I feel over once again along this beautiful body curled up next to me. I just can't keep my hands off of him. Addison's one of those boys you just have to love. He's thin but muscular – a budding cross-country star, from what I hear – with blond hair just short of shoulder length and the cutest face, skin pale enough that I tease him about it. His chest is smooth and muscular, his abs nice – not an especially impressive six pack or anything, but I like them. A great butt, bulging out just enough to be sexy while still being good and lean. I kiss him on the forehead as I revel in his scent.
But his dick, as I discovered a few hours ago, is a sharp contrast to the rest of his body type: you would expect someone thin and tall like Addison to have a longish but skinny dick, when actually just the opposite is true. This particular boy has the mixed blessing of a somewhat short but wonderfully thick penis, which I hope will feel good inside of me, once we get to that point.
I kiss the sleeping Addison again on the forehead, and idly wonder when we'll get that far. I don't really want to completely rush into things – I want this relationship to last – but I also am, shall we say, just a little bit excited at the prospect of having this boy inside of me.
I'm an only child, but I have a really big extended family: my mom was the oldest of seven kids. My aloneness wasn't by choice; when I was two, they tried to have another kid, but my mom miscarried and now can't have any more.
Anyway, there are six other families on my mom's side – thirteen other kids – and we all gather at my grandparents' for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Memorial Day, and the Fourth, every year. It's pretty crazy, but my grandparents have a big house and we manage it. I'm the oldest of the youngest generation at fifteen, a sophomore in high school. There's a set of fraternal twins, Addison and Collin, who are also sophomores (not at my school), four months younger than I am. They have a twelve year old sister Sophia, and there are two other middle schoolers, Alex and Rebecca. Then there are eight more between the ages of two (Christopher) and nine (Jean), mostly girls.
It's Thanksgiving break. I was a little disappointed this year, because I wasn't able to go home from the prep school I attend before coming to my grandparents' for the family celebration, thanks to a few extra days of classes. Addison and Collin, by the way, also go to prep schools – different ones both from mine and from each others'. Not going home is okay, though, because family gatherings like these are always fun. The twins are cool, and I love playing with my little cousins. Who doesn't?
Thanksgiving, of course, is Thursday. Everyone arrived Tuesday night or Wednesday morning, and we went through all the various things that always happen the day before Thanksgiving, from making the food to the annual family ping pong tournament – my aunt won, but you pretty much know she had an unfair advantage, because she grew up in Shanghai, and my other aunt who's from Hong Kong was the other finalist. If you're from China, you apparently get a big boost. They were even the only Asians – their kids aren't old enough to play. Such a ridiculous advantage over us plain old whities.
I'm kidding, by the way, if you didn't get that. I love them both, and all Chinese people in fact. How could you not?
So, yeah. Thanksgiving day itself passed pretty normally too, and the day after, until that Friday night.
Addison and I had just finished watching Ice Age with a couple of our younger cousins. Good stuff. We handed the little ones off to their parents for bed and joined Collin, Sophia, and Alex in the basement, where they were playing pool. They finished their game – Alex handily beat Collin and Sophia – and then Sophia said she felt like reading, so she left. That left the four boys of the family older than seven: me and the twins, all fifteen, and Alex, twelve.
We played a game, then Alex and Collin both begged off on account of being tired.
“Women,” I jokingly spat. “It's not even twelve.”
“Well, when five year old girls wake you up at six in the morning, you get tired earlier,” Collin shrugged.
“Yeah, whatever. We don't like you guys anyway.”
We played a few games, talking about random stuff: school-related things, mostly. Addison had had his big end-of-the-season cross-country race last weekend, which he took first at, and had just been elected captain of the team for next year. We chatted about the kids on my school's cross-country team who had been at that race. One of them was also on the crew team, so we got to talking about crew in general, and my prospects this year - both Colin and I rowed. We talked about classes, teachers, dorm life (which we both loved).
“So, Ben,” he asked me.
“So, Addison,” I replied.
“Got a girlfriend?”
That took me by surprise a little, though I don't know why. There was no way that Addison would know I broke up with my girlfriend a few weeks ago, and definitely no way he would know that it was because not only did I not like her, but I didn't know how much I really liked girls, period. Though I did get a little play from this girlfriend and the one last spring, for almost a year now when I was left to my own devices my fantasies had just about all at least included, if not revolved around, guys. At first I thought about threesomes, with my girlfriend or some girl I thought was hot and one of a couple hot guys from my school. Then, increasingly, it was just me and the guy. These guys I fantasized about were mostly somewhat effeminate, or at least skinny and small, but as far as I knew none of them were interested. There were a few openly gay kids on campus, but most of them just annoyed me, and I wasn't attracted at all to any of them.
I summed up that awfully complex situation with a simple “No,” followed by an ever-so-garrulous “you?”
There was a moments' silence, then Addison won the game.
“It's getting kinda late,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was almost one, and like Collin had said, in this house six-in-the-morning wake-ups were commonly given by five year old girls.
“Yeah, I'm ready for bed,” he replied. We headed upstairs.
Bedrooms were limited with this many people. Each couple got their own small one, and if they had little kids they were in that room too. The older kids shared three rooms; there was one for the boys – me, Addison, Collin, Alex, and seven year old John – and two smaller rooms for the various girls. The bedroom that we shared had two double beds and a cot; usually, Alex and John each shared a bed with one of us older boys and the odd man out took the cot.
This house had a somewhat strange layout. Like I said before, it was massive; my grandpa was a venture capitalist, and had gone big into a bunch of good choices – Microsoft, for one, and Pokémon. He had gotten pretty lucky. In this wing – yes, there were wings – the hallway had a bunch of rooms on one side and a big-ass window overlooking the lake on the other.
When we walked in to the normal bedroom, though – the very bedroom we had slept in last night, where I had shared a bed with sheet-stealing John – we could see by the glow of the night light that plans had been changed on us. There were clearly seven girls jammed into the two double beds, which had been pushed together in the middle of the room. Slumber party.
Addison and I tiptoed out of the room and opened the next room, which was normally one of the girls' rooms. This one had two single beds and the cot that had been in the other room; all were occupied.
“Guess we're in the other room,” Addison said. I shrugged.
This room was separated from the rest of the bedrooms by a bathroom, a big closet, and an office. There weren't any rooms across the hall, because like I said, it was a window. “I wish I had my stereo,” I joked, “we could get a pretty good party going in here without anyone hearing.” Yeah, it was lame, but Addison laughed.
This was the room that the three smaller girls usually took. There was just one double bed. We were both too lazy to go fetch our toothbrushes from the other room, so we just went to bed.
Addison pulled off his shirt and then his jeans. He's in great shape, like I've said. He's pretty much just straight-up hot. I found myself staring: I don't know what clicked in my head, but for the very first time, I was seeing my cousin sexually. Like I said before, I had been fantasizing about guys for a while. Right then, I realized that I had been dumb in my choices of who I had been thinking about when I jacked off. I could have shaved a good three minutes off the average time it took to masturbate if I had been imagining this Adonis.
He climbed under the covers, and I'm sure he noticed how I had been staring. I kind of half-turned to conceal myself, afraid that when I pulled my jeans off my cock would spring straight out of my boxers. I tossed my clothes off quickly and then practically ran into bed, painfully aware that even though I hadn't quite popped out I had made a pretty damn obvious tent.
“Wanna shut the light off?” Addison asked. I was turned away from his face but there was more than enough of a grin in his voice.
I groaned dramatically, and got up to do so. This time, to my great embarrassment, I actually did pop out. I guess the angle just came out all wrong, and the weight of my massively erect boner pushed the little button out. That wasn't all that uncommon for me in the particular kind of boxers I was wearing; the slot for the button was cut to the wrong size or something.
Anyway, I immediately spun so Addison couldn't see and stuffed myself back in, walking stiffly over to the light switch.
“Ben,” he said as I reached it.
“Yeah?” I asked, not trusting myself to turn around with the lights still on.
“Why don't you just shut off the big one,” he suggested softly. There were indeed two lights (and two switches), a big overhead one and a smaller, softer one off to the side. I did as he asked and turned around, wondering why.
Addison was no longer under the covers. He was lying on top of them, his boxers just as tented as mine were and his hand resting lightly on that tent.
I walked slowly over to the bed and climbed onto it, lying on my side facing him. He surprised me again by leaning his head towards mine. He had clearly watched Hitch recently: he left his face just apart from mine, eyes closed, waiting to be kissed.
I did it.
Addison was the first boy I had ever kissed. It was different, somehow, from kissing a girl – not that I was exactly an expert, but I had kissed three different girls, and none of them were quite like this. I don't know how to describe it, just that it was wonderful. He started fumbling around with his tongue, so I started Frenching him back.
I scooted my body over to press against his. His whole body, and especially his dick, was hard. We were similar heights, so as we kissed our hands ran over each other's backs, pressing our chests, our stomachs, our rock-hard erections against each other. I loved it.
My hand ventured inside of his boxers, to his ass. I pulled him over so that he was lying on me, grabbing his ass hard so that our dicks were grinding hard into each other's groins. He started some little rhythmic pelvic thrusts.
I slipped his boxers down to his knees, and then lifted my hips so that he could do the same for me. Our now-freed cocks rubbed against each other as he set himself down in the same position; Addison's boyhood ran next to mine for its whole length, sandwiched tightly between our bodies. He started thrusting again, short little things, enough that my foreskin was popping on and off the head of my dick. I ran a couple fingers down his asscrack to kind of tickle at his balls from behind.
At some point we had stopped kissing. Now Addison was starting to pant onto my face, and I felt the familiar tingling all through my body that meant I was about to have a particularly good orgasm. He shot after a few seconds, and the wet feeling on my stomach was more than enough to set me off too.
Addison rolled off of me, and we just kind of laid there, speechless. I looked over at him; that sexy stomach of his was rising and falling with his breath, which was still quick. There was a big streak of sperm on his stomach and his chest. There was a bigger pile on me; gotta love gravity. I reached over and wiped a big bit of that pile of sperm off him, then licked it off my finger.
I had tasted my own sperm before, and didn't particularly like it. I was a little bit disappointed to find that I didn't like the taste of Addison's any more than my own. I thought it tasted somewhat different, a little saltier maybe, but I really had no idea because it had been a while since I tried my own.
“Addison,” I said, “that was amazing. That was my first time kissing a guy.”
“Ben,” he replied, “that was beyond amazing. That was my first time kissing, period.”
“Really?” I was surprised. How could someone as hot as Addison not have kissed anyone yet?
I leaned over and kissed him gently again. He kissed back after a second. I pulled back fairly quickly and said, “Have a second. And a third…” I leaned in once more, and our lips met again. It was magic. There was none of the rough lust of that first kiss; this was gentle, muted desire. This was the comfortable knowledge that we had each other, that we would have each other, and we were secure in that.
I buried my head into the crook of Addison's shoulder, taking in his wonderful scent, his smooth touch. Before long, I was asleep.