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Let's Do It Again, Part 10
by Greg Scott


All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc.  In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it.  Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.


Tuesday I got a sense of what high school was going to be like.  The teachers all piled on the homework.  I was used to having homework, of course, but this was different.  Except for my algebra class, I didn't have anything to turn in the next day.  All of my assignments were due on Monday, instead.  I had a huge amount of reading and writing to do in the next six days.  All of that was in addition to daily football practices and our first game Friday night.

It was the hottest day of the summer, and riding my bike home seemed like work.  My shirt was soaked through with sweat, and I felt my underwear sticking to my sweaty butt.  Before I even reached the town limits, I decided that I was stopping at the roadside park to splash water all over myself at the pump.

It took longer than usual to reach the oasis.  I jumped the curb and rode right up to the old fashioned pump.  The first of the water was disappointingly warm, but as I pumped more it became the cold, refreshing stuff that I had been anticipating.  I wished that I had a bucket to fill that I could simply pour over myself, but I had to make do with what my hands could carry.  It may not have been very sanitary, but I dropped to my knees, resting my weight on my outstretched hands and stuck my whole head under the streaming water until I needed to get up to work the handle some more.  I looked forward to a cold shower when I got home.

As I stood to pick my bike off the ground, I happened to glance at the bathroom building.  Next to the door, leaning against the wall was another bicycle, much fancier and newer than mine.  My curiosity won out over my desire to get to my house and the shower that awaited me.

The bathroom seemed dark after coming in from the bright sunlight, but I was able to see well enough to recognize the outline of the guy standing at the urinal with his back to me.  It was Jake Ramsey.  I knew that immediately.

Jake was my age, but he was in eighth grade.  His parents held him back a year before starting first grade.  He and I had actually been friends in kindergarten.

Through most of his primary years, actually until the summer between his sixth and seventh grades, he was kind of the school nerd.  He wore thick glasses, talked in an irritating whine and was smaller than anyone in his class, even though those other students were a year younger than he was.

That summer when we were both about to become thirteen, Jake entered puberty.  He grew to become the tallest boy in his class and taller than almost anyone in my class.  When he returned to school in the fall, officially entering junior high, it was like a new boy had moved to town.

Girls who had previously teased him now flirted with him instead.  One of his many nicknames of "four eyes Ramsey" no longer fit, because he wore new contacts.  His voice, which previously had made everyone want to scream, had suddenly changed into a kind of sexy baritone.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't an ugly duckling who had turned into a beautiful swan.  Yeah, he was good looking enough, but he hadn't changed much otherwise.  He still hung out only with his few weird friends.  He still wore clothes that were about two sizes too big for him.  He still played Dungeons and Dragons and talked only about computer games and comic books.  On those rare occasions when I would be around him, most of the time I had no idea what he was talking about.

So when I saw Jake standing at the urinal, I moved quickly into the adjacent stall to hide until he left.  To make everything look official, I lowered my jeans and underwear and sat silently.

I heard nothing.  There was no sound of Jake leaving, but there was also no sound of him relieving himself.  I heard no splash and no trickle.  I did lean down far enough to see that his feet were still lined up with him facing the porcelain.

The heat inside the building was even more stifling than outside.  I lost all of the benefit of the cold water that I had enjoyed moments before.

I decided that I might as well get something out of my misery.  I leaned back to look through the small hole on the urinal side of the stall.  All I was able to see were Jake's baggy jeans and his left hand covering what it held.  Actually, as far as I could tell he might not have been holding anything at all.

I was only mildly disappointed that I couldn't see Jake's dick.  My major purpose in looking was just to kill time.

I became increasingly aware of the heat.  I didn't know how much longer I could hide in this furnace.  I wanted him to finish whatever he was doing and get out of there so that I could leave without being identified.

"Hey, Tyler," the baritone startled me.  "What are you doing?"

"I'm on my way home," I answered, although it took me a little while to decide to say anything at all.

I realized that he must have identified me while I was at the water pump, working against the sweat that had by now reappeared more forcefully than ever.  At his height, he wouldn't have needed to rise to his toes to see out the high, screened window.

The silence returned.  I chanced another glance through the hole to check that he was still in the same position.  I expected to again see those same jeans and that same hand.  Instead what confronted me was a cock that appeared to be half hard that was nearly as big as my own.  It was the biggest one that I had seen on anybody else, although I really didn't have all that much experience at seeing guys with erections.

I was mesmerized as he stroked it with his right hand, giving me full view.

"Did you have football practice?" he asked with the same incongruity that seemed to mark all of his conversation.

"Yeah," I said while wondering who taught this guy bathroom etiquette.

"You're a catcher, right?"

It took me a moment to translate that question.

"Yes," I replied.  "I'm a wide receiver.  My main job is to catch passes."

I decided that this was not the environment to give him a fuller explanation of my duties as a wide receiver.  I'm not sure that he could have understood the concept of me more often being a decoy or a blocker.

"Cool," he said, although I knew that he was not really impressed at all.  "Are you a good catcher?"

How long did he plan to continue this bizarre interrogation?  This was weird even for Jake.

"Maybe we should talk outside," I said, finally giving in to the heat and taking one last look at his cock.

"Okay," he said.

I heard him exit the building.  I was sure that he must be sporting a sizeable bulge.

My jeans stuck to my sweaty legs as I struggled to pull them up.  I had to tuck my own cock into position as I had understandably grown a significant hard on while watching Jake.  By the time I got outside, I saw that Jake had taken a seat at a shaded picnic table just a short distance from the building.

Reluctantly I walked over and sat across from him.  I noted with surprise, as if I hadn't really looked at him before, that he was actually quite good looking.  No wonder some of the young girls were willing to overlook his strange personality to flirt with him in the silly way that girls younger than I am do.

"Why did you come to this park?" he resumed his stream of questions as soon as I was seated.

"It's on my way home," I replied.  "I wanted to use the water pump to cool off."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, it felt really good."

"I don't believe you," he challenged.

"You don't believe what?  You don't believe that I used the cold water to cool off?"

"I believe that part," he said.  "I watched you do it.  You looked pretty silly practically lying on the ground."

This kid had no sense of what you should say and what you should just keep to yourself.

"I just don't believe that's the reason that you came here," he continued.

"Well, it is," I insisted.

Granted, on a couple occasions I came to the park with less pure intentions, but this time I really just wanted some relief from the intense heat.

"Then why did you go to the bathroom?" Jake pressed on, not picking up on what I thought to be a clear cue that this topic should be finished.

"Why does anyone go to the bathroom," I stated what I thought would be a self-evident explanation.

"My mother goes to the bathroom to check her make up.  My sister goes to the bathroom comb her hair.  Sometimes at a restaurant, my dad goes to the bathroom just so that he can check out a waitress that he thinks is sexy.  He thinks my mom and I don't know why he does it, but we do.  We even joke about it when he does it."

I had not meant to encourage a treatise on the various reasons people go to the bathroom.  Of course I knew what Jake was implying with his question.  This park or more specifically the bathroom has a widespread reputation.  

"Why did you go to the bathroom?" I decided to reverse roles to put him on the defensive.

"I asked you first," he said.

"I've got to get home.  Supper will be waiting," I lied.

"Did you like what you saw in there?" Jake asked as I stood to leave.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I responded without turning to look at him.

I grabbed my bike from where I had hidden it behind the building.  As I was about to leave the park, I saw Jake walk into that steamy bathroom again.

I only rode about a hundred yards, probably a lot less, when those familiar feelings came back.  I seem to be always horny.  I turned my bike around and headed toward the park.

When I walked into the building, Jake had occupied the stall that I had been in a short while before.  I considered going to the urinal to put on a show for him, but I decided that it was just too hot for games.  I took the stall adjacent to Jake's.

"I knew you would come back," Jake said, demonstrating that he had no idea of the subtleties of seduction.

I lowered my pants and took a seat to wait for things to develop.  It didn't take long.

"Show it to me," he said.

I stood to show him my already hard penis.

"Wow," he said.  "It looks just like mine."

He shoved his through the hole in the wall to prove his point.  He was right.  I had noticed the size similarity previously, but now I could see that its shape was virtually identical as well.

"Put yours next to mine," Jake instructed.

I pushed mine through the hole alongside his so that the two rigid members touched.  Upon contact, I felt a surge of energy, almost like electricity.

"See what I mean?"

"Yeah, you're right," I said.

I caressed his cock with my hand.

He said, "That feels good.  Have you done this with many other guys."

"No," I replied.  "Have you?"

I figured that if he insisted on talking constantly I was going to throw the questions back at him.

"Six guys," he replied.  "You'll make seven."

For some reason I felt that he was being presumptuous, even though I knew that I wasn't going to back out of this now.  I was too turned on.

"Anybody I know," I asked without thinking.

"Probably," he replied.  "I met them all here."

"Do any of them go to our school?" I don't know why I kept asking questions that I would not answer myself had they been reversed.

"Yeah.  Two guys.  One about our age and a high school guy last weekend.  The other guys were all older.  Three of them were actually married."

"What class?" I asked.

"You mean the high school guy?"

"Yeah.  Well I guess I mean both of the younger guys."

"The first one is in your class.  We've done it here several times.  The other one is a junior."

"How about you?" he asked.

"Nobody you would know," I lied.

Of course my curiosity was aroused about the two guys from our school, but I knew I couldn't ask him.  It wouldn't be fair.

"You're going to keep this a secret, right?"  I wanted confirmation, seeing how talkative he seemed to be.

"Of course," he promised.

I hoped he was telling the truth.

"Do you like to suck?" he asked.

"Could we just do this and not talk about it," I said with the frustration reflected in my voice.

I didn't wait for a reply.  I dropped to my knees and licked the head of the cock that looked so much like mine.  It was a strange sensation as I realized that I was feeling very much what Rich and Alan felt when they gave me head.

That thought was strangely exciting.  I began to work Jake's dick more fully, applying my recently learned skills to this cock that was so much larger than those I had previously sucked.  I found myself wishing that it could be smaller so that I could perform my welcome task with greater ease.

"Oh my god, Crawford," Jake said loudly.  "That's fucking amazing.  You're the best I've ever had."

His compliment inspired me to even more diligence in my routine.  I tried to take even more into my already full mouth, but there didn't seem to be room for it all.  I sucked hard each time I would pull back, harder than I had sucked with my friends.  His constant sounds, no longer recognizable words, indicated that he appreciated the suction.

I was determined to get it all into my mouth, mostly because I wanted to know exactly what Rich and Alan had experienced with me.  My first two attempts resulted in powerful gags that disrupted my rhythm.  My third try was successful.

Jake immediately rewarded my success with a scream and the beginning of his ejaculation, which went directly down my throat.  He took over completely, pumping in and out at great speed.  The shots that landed on my tongue were more watery than either of my lovers.  The flavor was much more bitter, but there was an immense amount of it.  It flowed and flowed.  I swallowed several times, less out of necessity than out of an urge to rid my mouth of the taste.

The scream didn't cease the entire time, but the pitch became lower and lower the longer the cum flowed.  I'm not sure where the air came from to produce that volume, because I know he didn't take a breath the whole time he was jizzing.

Aside from the taste, I found the whole experience amazingly sexy.  I guess it was because it was like I was cumming into my own mouth.  Of course, I know that my own cum tastes a whole lot better.

Once the lengthy climax finished, Jake jerked his cock from my mouth as if it had suddenly touched a hot stove.  He yanked up his pants.

I stood and placed my own dick through the hole.

"Thanks, Tyler," Jake called through the partition separating us.  "You are really good.  Let's do it again sometime."

"Wait," I said in disbelief with most of my cock still on his side of the wall.  "Are you leaving?"

"Yes," he said.  "I don't suck."

"What do you mean you don't suck?"

"I don't suck," he repeated.  Then he added, "I'm not a queer."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I practically screamed.

"See you next time," he said as he walked out the door.

"Fuck you," I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Not likely," he yelled from outside.

I spit what was left in my mouth into the toilet.  I rinsed my mouth thoroughly at the water pump before I left the park.

I spent the rest of my ride home berating myself for my stupidity and damning Jake for his selfishness.  I didn't even feel like jacking off in that cold shower once I got home.

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