I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

Sealing our Fate


Water lapped at the shack’s pilings. A night breeze came across the bay and through our windows, cool yet humid. From across the room, reflected light off the dock and floodlit water filtered in through the open door and windows, glimmering in the darkness on the ceiling overhead.

I lay on my stomach to conceal a dick that kept wanting to grow hard. Tucking my arm under my pillow, I turned to face Kipper. He was on his stomach as well, and had his face turned toward me. Our eyes met in the flickering light, and Kipper smiled.

“Work in the morning?” he asked. “Then a little snorkeling, lunch, nap, work in the afternoon?”

“Yep,” I said.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Kipper said. “We’ll get lots more done if I supervise and you follow my expert directions.” The corners of his mouth turned up and his eyes twinkled.

“Numbskull!” I said, pulling my hand from under my pillow to give him a shoulder shove. He shoved back, and then started to roll away from my return shove. I grabbed his wrists, moving my chest over his to pin his arms to the bed above his head. My bare chest pressed down on his, and my hair fell down from either side of my face to frame Kipper’s.

Kipper laughed, but then his laughter abruptly faded. Gazing up into my eyes, he swallowed hard, and his large, brown eyes went all soft. I swallowed hard myself and my breath caught in my throat because every instinct in me told me that Kipper... that Kipper wanted to be kissed.

But I was afraid. Afraid that I had it wrong. Afraid that I’d mess things up with Kip. Afraid to kiss him.

I tossed my hair back and laid back down beside him, returning my hand back under my pillow, my face toward Kip, who was now on his back, looking at me. His eyes searched mine, and he was breathing hard. So was I; I had to breathe through my mouth to get enough air.

I pulled my hand from under the pillow again and laid it on Kip’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, in a gesture that could simply be considered as friendly.

He laid his hand on the back of mine and gave it a squeeze in a gesture that was more intimate than mine had been. He swallowed hard, his big brown eyes looked… pleading.

I lifted myself and slowly, carefully, moved my chest back over Kipper’s, my eyes never leaving his. He began to tremble.

Did he want to kiss? Or was I simply desperate to kiss him? Again my hair hung down toward Kipper’s cheeks as if pulling my face to Kipper’s. I lowered my mouth toward his an inch and stopped. Kipper caught his breath and closed his eyes. His trembling lips parted.

I barely breathed as I lowered my mouth the rest of the way and our lips lightly touched, and then melted into a gentle kiss.

I had to breathe. Wrapping my arms under Kip’s shoulders, I pressed my cheek to his, clutching him hard to me as I caught my breath and his trembling faded. And I remember being surprised at how soft and warm his cheek felt against mine… and how intimate and… natural.

Kipper wrapped his arms over my back, and he turned his face to mine, his lips on my cheek. I turned to him and our lips met again, this time firmly.

His mouth opened to mine and I went rock-roaring hard as our tongues met. His fingers slid into the back of my hair and our mouths worked against each other, exploring, tasting, testing.

My first kiss with any boy would have been electric, but this was Kip, and electric couldn’t begin to describe how it felt, bare chest to bare chest, his fingers in the back of my hair, and our mouths… Kipper’s mouth… his tongue sliding on mine, twisting with mine… and he tasted like Kipper; like his breath always smelled, all boyish and sweet. This was Kipper and it was perfect; no one else would have been perfect.

Despite an erection that almost hurt, I would have been content to hold Kipper and kiss him like that all night. And we did kiss for a long time before I felt his hand leave the back of my hair and slide slowly, lightly, down my back. His hand paused on my naked butt and gave it an appraising squeeze. We both moaned softly into our kiss.

And then his hand slid off my butt and I felt his fingers probe under my hipbone. I was hard, I thought in alarm. He was going to find out that I was hard… and then I realized how stupid that was. I lifted my hips and felt his fingertips touch me, just in from my hipbone. They worked their way with little sexual flashes on my skin toward my cock, and then we froze, our mouths still open to each other, as he found me, and his fingers closed around my erection.

We moaned again, and I couldn’t breathe. I pressed my cheek to his, holding my hips up and parting my legs for him as his fingers explored the length of my shaft and then down to my balls, lifting them, feeling them.

Our breathing was ragged. He pressed the flat of his hand up against my shaft, his fingers lifting my balls and it was like nothing I had ever imagined. I whimpered.

And then, keeping my cheek pressed to his, I pulled an arm from under his shoulders and drew my palm down his heaving belly; feeling its flatness, feeling his warm, taut skin. And then I found it; his hard cock pointing straight up his belly. I felt over it with my fingertips; his skin was so incredibly soft.

I lifted my head and threw the bed sheet back to see him. I wanted to see what he looked like, hard and my eyes went straight to his dick. When we measured later, his was about the same size as mine, but that night, seeing Kipper hard for the first time, his cock looked thick and long on his slender, fourteen year-old frame. It stretched up to his navel and was darker than the moonlit skin of his belly. He was beautiful… and my stomach knotted at the sight of him.

His hand pressed up under me. I ground my cock against his palm, forcing his hand down onto the bed as I closed my own hand around his shaft.

Kipper gasped and I felt his whole body tense, including his hand under me.

Even at fourteen and fifteen, there are things that are instinctual; things that you just know and know how to do even if you have never done them before… things with another boy, things with your best friend. And I wanted to do them.

I closed my hand over his cock and he felt incredibly hard. I slid his skin up and down his shaft and he tensed again. I opened my hand and slid it open-palm down, feeling his length, and then the softness of his scrotum. I lifted his balls with my fingers, and in doing so, my fingers pressed under the back of his balls. Kipper moaned and his body arched under my hand.

And then his hand became active under me again, fingering my balls, the heel of his hand pressing up against my shaft. I moaned and rubbed the heel of my hand on the underside of his shaft. Our mouths met again, and opened to each other.

We kissed and rubbed and explored with our fingers; maybe a little roughly in the eagerness of fourteen and fifteen year old boys who wanted each other. Suddenly, Kipper was bucking up against my hand and moaning and I felt the splash of his cum up my arm and against my ribs. And it pushed me over, as grinding down against his palm, I also came, with moans and whimpers of my own; our mouths open and sucking the breath from each other.

I rested my cheek against Kipper’s once more, and our breathing slowed. Our hands gentled in their fondling, but I didn’t stop, and neither did Kipper. I didn’t want to stop. And I didn’t want to say a word; nothing that would spoil that moment.

We nuzzled each other’s necks and gently fondled, keeping each other hard. Then it seemed completely natural that I would move the rest of my body over his. Kipper was ready, guiding my hips with his hands, opening his legs for mine to settle between. Our cocks pressed between our bellies and my balls settled onto his. We moaned together, softly.

His hands slid over my butt, grabbing both buns, and Kipper pulled hard grinding up against me with his cock. I slid my hands up under the backs of his shoulders and grabbed on. Our mouths met again, and opened to each other, and we kissed and kissed while Kipper clutched my butt and we ground against each other.

We pumped our hips, pressing, grinding. The feel of his slender, naked body moving under mine; the skin of his belly under my belly; his hands on my butt; the hardness of our cocks grinding between us; the warmth of his flesh; the smell of his hair and skin; the evening breeze over my skin; our soft moans; the squeaking of the bed… all swirled through my overwhelmed consciousness.

And then we rolled so that Kipper was on top; as if we had both decided to do so at the same time. With gasps and wordless murmurs, we acknowledged the differences in the feel. Kipper slid his hands under the backs of my shoulders as I had done to him. I opened my legs for Kips to settle between and slid my hands down his back, feeling his smooth skin and the muscles working beneath.

His body felt so solid and firm; the feel of his weight on me and between my legs was something my imagination could never have anticipated. I gasped as he moved. I squeezed his long legs between mine. And then my hands found the small, firm globes of Kipper’s butt, flexing with his movements.

He chewed my ear and neck and I chewed his, sucking his skin, tasting Kipper. I spread my legs more and clutching his butt, pulled our crotches hard together. And that felt good, so I spread my legs even more, giving Kip a hardness to rub on between my stretched tendons. Our balls slid on each other and I had never expected that, or the incredible feel of it.

Our moans grew louder and our grinding faster and more demanding. And then we were whimpering at the same time and our stomachs grew slick with cum.

We slowed, and then stopped.

Our heaving bellies pressed together as our breathing slowed, and I slid my hands more comfortably to the small of Kipper’s back, marveling again at the feel of his soft skin and the weight of his body on mine.

He pulled his hands out from under my shoulders and laid one against the side of my face while he nuzzled into my neck from the other side. And suddenly, all the affection that I’d ever felt for Kipper swelled my heart. Wrapping my arms over his back, I hugged him tightly and he moaned pleasantly into the side of my neck.

Together, we pulled the sheet up over ourselves, and fell asleep with Kipper still lying on me, his legs between mine and his balls resting on mine, our flaccid cocks between our cum-slicked bellies. He nuzzled into the side of my neck and we fell asleep without having said a single word the whole time.

The night breeze had grown almost still, and the water had grown quiet, when I woke sometime later. Kipper had slid off to my side while we were sleeping, leaving an arm and a leg over me; his breath on my neck. I would have liked to stay there like that, but I really needed to take a leak.

Carefully, I slipped from under Kipper and sat up on the edge of the bed. For a moment, I rubbed my head, and then glanced back at Kipper as I stood up. His slender body lay stretched long in shadows on the bed. I admired him, and then realized that his eyes were open; I could see a glimmer off them. “Taking a leak,” I said, mainly so he wouldn’t think I was leaving. I wanted him to stay right there. I wanted to come back to him and lay together just like we had been.

He followed me, coming out onto the dock just after I did, and he stepped up beside me; his stream joining mine.

I glanced at him. His head was down, watching our streams. The remains of the night breeze gently blew through his disheveled hair, and the way it hung down over his eyes, I could only see his nose.

“Kips?” I asked, looking away. “Are we OK?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kipper glance at me.

Kipper nodded. “Are you?”

I nodded, and turned to look him in the eye. “Is this going to mess up our friendship?” I asked.

Kipper shook his head. “Not for me, Sticks.”

I smiled.

Kipper grinned. And then stepping closer, he put a hand on the back of my shoulder and leaned close. “Did you like it?”

I slipped an arm behind his waist and leaned my forehead sideways against his. “You’re kidding, right?”

“You ever do this before?” Kipper asked quietly.

“No… never,” I answered just as quietly. “Have you?”

Keeping his forehead to mine, he slid his arm farther around my shoulders. “No,” he said, softly. “But I’ve dreamed of us doing this for ages.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, his forehead nodding on mine.

I rolled my forehead on his as I turned to face him. I dropped my hands to Kippers waist, and he rested his hands on my shoulders. “I’ve been wondering… for a while… if you might want to,” I said. “I just never could tell for sure, Kips, and I didn’t want to… well, lose you.”

Kipper frowned slightly. “And you were always interested in Ben,” he said.

I ran my hands lightly up and down his sides. “Maybe… but it wasn’t ever the same, Kips.” Foreheads together, our eyes cast down between us, and I watched his lips as I said, “You were always different.”

“How?” he asked, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. He moved his hips forward toward mine.

I dropped my eyes from Kipper’s lips to his cock. Like mine, it was lengthening and rising. “How?” I repeated his question with a little shrug. “If I did anything with Ben, or any other guy,” I said. “It’d just be messing around.”

Kipper brushed his dangling semi on mine. “And with me?” he asked.

Slipping my hands from his waist to the sides of his hips, I pulled our middles together. Kipper slid his arms around my shoulders, and brushed my lips with his. “And with me?” he asked again in almost a whisper.

“And with you,” I whispered, and then for an answer, I pulled him into my arms and pressed my mouth to his. Kipper wrapped an arm around my shoulders and cradled the back of my head in his other hand. Our bellies touched, and then pressed together.

“I’ve always loved your mouth,” Kipper said. Sliding his cheek on mine. “I’m gonna be kissing you a lot.”

“You’re not going to feel bad about all this later?” I asked, sliding my hands onto his butt.

Kipper leaned back from our middles with a small frown. “I’m not going to feel bad. You don’t feel bad either, OK?”

I shook my head. “No way.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Matter of fact. You don’t feel bad at all.”

“Just a little cramped between us right now.”

Grinning, Kipper reached down between our bodies and pulled his cock upright. Then his hand closed over my cock, lifting it upward.

With a soft moan, I pressed the side of my face against Kipper’s.

“You like this, Sticks?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You feel so cool,” he whispered and moved the skin up and down on my cock. “Oh, damn you feel good.”

“Umm,” I murmured, and sucked his neck, distractedly as his hand slid up and down my cock.

I slipped my hand between our bodies and wrapped it around his cock. Kipper’s forehead dropped onto my shoulder and it was his turn to murmur. “It feels so different when you touch me… I mean, instead of me touching me.”

“I know.”

In the quiet of the night, and the gentle breeze, we stroked each other; free hands roaming bodies, feet apart, mouths sucking on napes of necks.



“What we did earlier… you liked it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He glanced at me, and then looked down again. “I liked how it felt when you laid on me,” he said quietly, “when I was on my back and you laid on me.”

I nodded. “I liked it when you laid on me.” I ran my free hand up and down his side and then over his back and down to his butt, just like I had with both my hands when he was lying on me. “I never dreamed your body would feel like this.” I squeezed his butt. “When you laid on me, Kips… when you laid down between my legs and I wrapped my arms around you… oh damn, you felt incredible!”

Kipper brushed his cheek against mine. “When you laid on me Sticks,” he whispered, “your balls sorta pushed mine down, you know? I thought I’d come right then.”

“I loved grabbing your butt, Kips,” I said, and leaned back to see his face. “… damn you’ve got a fine butt.”

“I like grabbing your butt, too,” he said with a smile. “So we take turns being on the bottom?”

I pressed my cheek to his. “Don’t need to take turns Kips,” I whispered. “I liked lying on you as well.”

He put his mouth beside my ear. “How about lying on me right now?” he whispered.

Kipper lay back diagonally across the bed, spreading his long legs for me to move up between. His cock lay straight up his belly, and his balls hung loosely in the space between his legs. Moonlight from the open window fell across his torso, highlighting his slender muscles and smooth skin.

The bottom fell out of my stomach as I stood over him. Our eyes met, and I swallowed hard. Kipper extended his arms.

His body was beautiful and I wanted to feel the whole length of it under me. As I laid down on him, I took Kipper’s wrists in my hands and stretched his arms up over his head, stretching them off the edge of the bed; stretching our torsos long; stretching belly on belly and chest on chest. I had a stray thought; I wondered if I pressed my chest on Kipper’s would our nipples line up? Could I press my nipples to his? I wanted to.

Pinning his wrists, I lowered my weight onto him, and made sure to settle my balls onto his. He had said that he liked that, and it felt good for me too.

Kipper locked his legs around my hips, and I held him all stretched out, my weight flat on him and the skin of our bellies pressing together as we breathed. I circled my hips, and then he circled his hips with me; only our hips moving, circling together.

* * *

“Don’t roll off,” Kipper whispered as the last of my cum joined his between our bellies. “Sleep on me like I slept on you earlier.”

I nuzzled into his neck. “Kipper!” I whispered.


“I like it on top, just fine.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah… I liked the way you were moving, Kips; that was hot.” And then I realized why. “You know why it was so hot?”


“You moved like you did because you liked how I moved,” I whispered in his ear. “I made you cum.”

He slid his fingers into the back of my hair and whispered into my ear. “I made you come, too.”

* * *

The sun was well up when I awoke. Boats were out on the bay. Kipper’s hand was on my chest and one of his legs lay over mine. I opened my eyes, looking up at the ceiling, and wondered whether I wanted to get up. I turned my head to look at Kipper and was surprised to see that his eyes were wide open. He was watching me.

“Morning, Kips,” I said, giving him a good-morning smile.

Keeping his leg over my middle, he propped up onto his elbow, leaned over me, and lowered his face to mine.

I closed my eyes and felt his lips touch my lips. I felt his breath on my cheek. I smelled his hair and skin. And it seemed incredible to me that it was daylight, and real, and I was being kissed by Kipper.

I placed my hand on his hard back and felt his solid reality; and opened my eyes as he lifted his mouth from mine.

He smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, so I could do that,” he said.

“We’ve been waiting a lot longer than that,” I said, with a smile of my own.

Kipper laughed – his teenage-voice-is-changing laugh – and just the sound of it made me feel happy and incredible inside.

He looked down into my eyes and his smile gentled. “I liked watching you in your sleep.”

I rolled up to him, tangling legs; pressing the soft, moist skin of our scrotums and flaccid cocks against hips. “Kips,” I said. “Last night… that was…”

“Messy,” he said, the corners of his mouth curling up sharply.

I had to laugh. “You numbskull!”

Kipper reached between us and drew a fingertip across my belly. “We need to clean up.”

I ran a fingertip across my belly and then his, and I could feel our dried cum. “Yeah, we do. You got us all messy.”

Kipper laughed. “I did? You ass!” He pushed me onto my back, quickly straddled my belly… and started bouncing; his cock flopping on my belly.

With a howl, I pushed him off. He pushed back. We wrestled, laughing — but we really wrestled; straining against each other; trying to get head locks. And then Kipper was back on top, pinning my arms beside my head. The corners of his mouth curled up playfully and his big brown eyes flashed happily.

I quit struggling.

“You know what’s cool, Kips?” I asked.

“What?” he asked, still grinning.

“We’re wrestling naked and you’re sitting on my dick and I’m not hard. I always get hard when I wrestle and it’s always been a bummer. I love this!”

Kipper laughed. “We came three times last night, you ass! You just need to wrestle right after you come a few times, and you won’t get hard… maybe.” Still pinning my arms, he slid his butt back so that our packages pressed together. “Bet I could make you hard again.”

“Bet you could,” I answered, wriggling my hips playfully under him. And then I was getting hard, and there was a glint in Kipper’s eyes.

My eyes fell to his mouth. “You know how you said that you liked my mouth and wanted to kiss a lot?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kipper said, with a devilish grin.

“Well, I’ve always liked your mouth, too. I love the way it turns up at the corners. Let me kiss it.”

Kipper laughed, leaning forward to pin my arms more firmly, and he blew me a kiss.

“Asshole!” I said, struggling to throw him off. It took a bit of work before I finally managed to unseat him, but then he scrambled for the door. I chased after him, but he was out before I could catch him. Kipper leapt from the dock, right into the water, and I followed.

He managed to elude my dive, and pulled a body length away before turning to splash water at me. It was then that I realized two things. One was that the water felt cool, but good on my naked body. The other was that a couple of guys were fishing from a boat on the far side of the channel.

There wasn’t much to do but wave, which I did. Kipper jerked around, saw them, and murmured, “Oh, shit!”

But the guys waved back.

Kipper and I splashed around a bit while the boat drifted up the channel a ways and then we swam around toward the back of the shack, laughing. “We’re gonna have to be more careful,” I said, observing the obvious.

“Serves you right for trying to attack me,” Kipper said, swimming in the lead; his tight little bottom breaking the surface as he kicked.

“Yeah, right. I was just trying to kiss your smartass mouth.”

Kipper stopped and we treaded water. “You really like my mouth?” he asked.

“I love your mouth.”

He smiled, pleased, and I moved closer, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. “My mouth likes your mouth,” Kipper said.

“Yeah, well I’ve got a whole lot of body parts that like a whole lot of your body parts.” I said, as Kipper moved behind me. He held onto my shoulders, and I moved forward, kicking into a breaststroke, pulling him along on my back. He helped with the kicking and we swam casually through the water together.

We swam silently, our bodies gently bumping and sliding against each other. Kipper kissed the back of my head once… twice. Then I rolled to my back and let Kipper swim up between my legs. I put my hands on his shoulders to let Kipper’s legs and arms do most of the work of moving us through the water.

I straightened my arms and leaned back, looking up into the low clouds of the morning sky, and when I did, my body leveled higher in the water and Kipper’s stomach bumped pleasantly between my legs.

Then we reversed, and Kip lay on his back as I swam us through water that was still clear and calm from its night’s rest.

We ventured away from the shack and the channel, just taking turns swimming each other. And when I swam Kipper, I didn’t need to say anything. It was enough to watch his upturned chin and his throat when he swallowed; to watch his shoulders rise slightly from the water with the thrust of my legs and the pull of my arms, and to feel his body occasionally bump beneath me in the water.

When we finally turned back for the shack, we swam sidestroke, facing each other. “I’m not sure how much work I want to try to do today,” I said.

Kipper grinned, the sun flashing gold in his wet hair. “At least work of a certain kind.”

I smiled. “You aren’t worn out?”

Kipper laughed. “No, are you?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I mean, not that we have to try anything else for a while.”

Kipper moved closer as we swam, so that we had to tighten our kicks. His brow furrowed. “I want to try stuff, Sticks. I want to try everything… I’ve dreamed of doin’ it all with you.”

I swallowed. “You mean, like… everything?” I asked, hoping against hope that he meant the things I meant.

He nodded.

“Sixty-nines?” I asked hopefully, and then lowered my voice. “Cornholing?”

“Everything,” he said, looking me right in the eye; one side of his mouth curling up.

I laughed, throwing my head back and rolling the length of my body in the water, just like a dolphin. “This is so cool!” I proclaimed to the blue sky, driving my fist up overhead. “This is so damned fuckin’ cool!”

And then Kipper was on me and laughing, and we twisted in the water, rolling over each other, and over again; Kipper’s hand slid lightly past my floating balls and thickening cock and mine slid over his, and then our hands moved over each other’s butts, and backs, and shoulders in a rolling, body bumping tag.

We stopped at the same time, laughing, facing each other once again, and we then kicked into a face-to-face sidestroke. Kipper’s grin was ear to ear. “This is going to be such a great summer!” he predicted.

* * *

We came around to the front of the shack. The boat that had been there earlier had moved away, and no boats were in sight. Kipper climbed up the ladder to the dock first, and I enjoyed watching him, his back, leg, and butt muscles all showing themselves as he pulled himself up.

I followed him up, and when I stood beside him, we were both sprouting semis.

“Rinse?” I asked.

Kipper nodded and followed me to the fresh water shower, which was under the stairs to the roof. I squirted soap onto my chest and stomach, and then on to Kipper’s. We crowded together under the showerhead and Kip turned it on just long enough to give us water to soap up with.

I soaped myself; Kipper soaped himself. But then Kipper started soaping my back and I did his, and then his hand was in my crack, rubbing soap there, and I did him. When I lifted his balls with my hand, we were both rock hard. “Kips,” I asked. “What do you want to try next?”

His eyes were on my cock and he closed his hand around it. He gave it a squeeze and looked up at me, his big brown eyes an inch from mine. “I’ll suck your cock if you’ll suck mine.”

My cock jumped in his hand, and the corners of Kips mouth curled up.

* * *

Kipper crawled onto the bed and rolled to his back, his cock pointing straight up his belly just like it had the night before when the sight of him took my breath away. Now, in daylight, I paused to look him over.

It was hard not to focus on his cock, so I did. Knowing that his cock was probably the same size as mine didn’t keep it from looking big on his body. It had more of an upward curve than mine. The skin was flushed and darker than the rest of him. I thought his dick was perfectly formed. His shaft was thicker at the base, then rose long, hard, and straight up to his belly button… an outie belly button; I liked outies.

I couldn’t resist – I climbed up onto the bed and lay down on Kipper, pressing our cocks between our bellies.

He grinned. “I don’t think that this is how you do a sixty-nine, Stick.”

“Get used to it, Kipper,” I said, wrapping my arms under his shoulders and grinding down with my hips. “When you’re on your back like this, and you’re hard like you are… well damn, Kips! I get this incredible urge to lie down on you and put my cock down on yours.” I grinned. “You like me lying on you, right?”

He smiled and slid his hands up my back. “Yeah.”

I lowered my mouth to his, and Kipper’s mouth opened to me. We probed back and forth with our tongues and Kipper slid his fingers into the back of my hair as we ground our cocks on each other.

“Kissing Kipper,” I murmured. “I love kissing Kipper.”

“Do you really?” he asked in a whisper.

“I could do this all day.”

“Me too, Sticks.”

“But we can try a sixty-nine,” I said. “We might like that too.”

He nodded, and I kissed him once more before reversing my position. We went to our sides and maneuvered on the bed until our faces were level with each other’s cock.

Kippers balls looked all big and egg shaped, lying loosely on his leg. Up close, the skin of his cock looked thick and soft and moist. His glans flared like a pink helmet, and I wondered what it would feel like to touch it with my tongue.

“Maybe this is a good idea, Kips,” I said. “You’re beautiful down here.” I drew my finger along the underside of his shaft.

Kipper’s hand closed around my cock and he pulled my crown toward his mouth. “Sometime, when you’re soft,” he said, studying my cock, “I want to pull the skin back on this thing; you know, like you do when you take a piss.” And then, he closed his mouth over my glans… and I shuddered.

He tried sucking, and I felt his teeth working on my shaft. “Ouch!” I said with a gasp, trying to pull my hips back. “Your teeth!”

“Oh, sorry.”

I ran my hand over his lean hips and fought the sudden urge to rub my face on Kipper’s cock. “I know what to do,” I told him. “I mean… I’ve read about it in Penthouse and stuff. And I know what Heather did to me. I know you’ve gotta keep your teeth from scraping — like cover them with your lips or something.”

And then I gave into the urge and rubbed my face on the soft skin of Kipper’s cock and balls.

He murmured softly, and then rubbed his face on my cock and balls.

“I just wanted to try that,” I said, pressing my cheek to the base of his cock. “You didn’t have to do it too.”

Kipper continued to rub his face on me.

A shudder ran through my body. I was learning something about myself, or at least about Kipper and me and sex… Kipper could make me shudder.

Taking his cock in my hand, I pointed it toward my mouth. Then I reached out with my tongue and tasted him. He tasted a little salty from our swim. I closed my mouth over his crown, and even more than the resulting sensations, I was overcome with the thought that I had Kipper’s cock in my mouth.

I remember thinking that his cock felt a little rubbery and didn’t have much taste that first time. But I liked it, and that was partly because it was Kipper’s cock in my mouth.

I wanted it to be as good for Kipper as when Heather gave me a blowjob; no… I wanted it to be better! I’d read about bobbing, and Heather did that to me, so I tried it – covering my teeth with my lips and bobbing my head an inch or two up and down his shaft. I knew about licking and swirling your tongue over the glans; thanks to Penthouse and guesses as to what Heather had done. And I tried that. And everything I tried, Kipper tried, and we quickly found out what felt good… and what felt amazingly good.

I had never been sure that I’d like giving someone a blowjob. I’d read about gagging, and certainly knew that I couldn’t ever open my throat like I read some women could do to deep throat a cock like a sword swallower. I tried going deeper on Kip and started to gag. My mouth started to get tired.

But I liked sucking on Kipper. I liked everything about it. And I loved being sucked by him at the same time! There were too many sensations to even keep track of them all.

With one hand, I held the base of Kipper’s cock while I worked on him with my mouth. I ran the fingers of my other hand up and down the soft skin inside Kipper’s thighs. I cupped his balls and rubbed my fingers behind them. I hugged his belly to my chest. And when Kipper’s hips began to move, I kept my teeth covered and my mouth open. I held my tongue up against his shaft, and before long, I simply forgot about gagging and my mouth being tired. And then, almost before I knew it, my throat relaxed and was opening all on its own, and I was taking Kip deep into my throat, with hardly a gag at all.

It didn’t feel like Kipper was taking me as deep, but what he was doing felt wet and warm and… terrific.

I decided that some day I would be able to take Kipper all the way into my throat; all the way until my nose touched his balls and my chin felt the brush of his pubes. I wanted to do that; for Kipper… and for me.

And then I felt my balls tightening and Kipper’s hand closed over them, cupping, caressing. His balls were tightening too, and I fondled them.

My orgasm came on quickly and the feelings from Kipper’s mouth on my cock were so overwhelming that for one disjointed moment, I had the sensation that the warm liquid squirting into the back of my throat was somehow my own cum. But then I realized it was Kipper’s, and that he was coming at the same time; so far back on my tongue that I couldn’t taste it at first, and then the saltiness registered. And Kipper didn’t taste bad at all.

We swallowed. Our movements slowed and then stopped. My cock slipped from Kip’s mouth. I gave his cock a final suck and Kipper was the one who shuddered. Then I let his cock slip from my mouth.

“Oh, wow, Sticks! Oh wow!” he whispered.

I pressed the side of my face back against his balls and softening cock, and wrapped an arm over his waist. I liked it there. I was a cocksucker and you can’t get much more queer than that… except to love being a cocksucker. I loved sucking Kipper’s cock. And right then, I couldn’t have cared less if I was queer.

We got comfortable. Kipper rolled to his back and I made a pillow of his lap. He laid his hand on my butt and we dozed off.

* * *

Kipper woke first. I woke when he sat up.

He was smiling down at me when I glanced up him. “You really like that?” he asked, “putting your face on me like that.”

“Yeah,” I said, and then kissed his balls to prove my point.

With a lopsided smile, he shook his head. “We’re becoming sex fiends.”

* * *

We didn’t bother to put on clothes, but each had half of a cantaloupe for a naked lunch, turning our chairs sideways at the table to face each other. As we ate, I slipped my foot up between Kipper’s legs, up on the edge of his seat, tucking my toes under his balls. He did the same to me, and we grinned at each other as we spooned cantaloupe and gazed out the windows.

Commercial fishing boats were returning to the bay after their midday break to drop off morning customers and take on afternoon customers. Most of the private boats had returned because, with the heat of the day, the wind was getting up.

We pulled on shorts when we saw a boat setting up to drift fish past us on the edge of the channel, and we sat on the dock – Kipper with his camera, me with my sketchpad and charcoal. They were two guys in their thirties from Harlingen, and we exchanged greetings and small talk before they drifted away.

Once they were far enough up the channel, I pulled off my shorts and tossed them back through the door. With a smile, Kip did the same.

“Feel up to doing some work this afternoon?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he answered, lying back on the dock. “For a while at least… you’ve got me all mellowed out.”

“Yeah,” I said, lying back beside him. Small puffs of clouds dotted the blue sky above. “I was thinking we could start sanding down the door and window frames to get them ready to paint.”

Kipper glanced over me. “You could. I’ll direct.”

I flopped my arm over to rap the back of my knuckles on Kipper’s belly.

“Ugh!” he said, his body jerking.

“And we stay naked,” I said. “Just know where your shorts are if we need to make a dash for them.”

“Yeah,” Kipper agreed. “Listen for boats.”

But no other boats came close that afternoon.

We sanded the outside door and window frames, working together; bumping butts and shoulders when we felt like it, and slapping an occasional butt cheek.

We stayed in the shade as much as possible, and the breeze off the bay was cool, even in the heat of the day. But we worked up a sweat, and wood dust mixed with it to give our bodies a gritty coating.

I had set down my sandpaper and was stretching my body at the edge of the dock with satisfaction at having finished the job, when Kipper shoved me into the water.

When I came up, I shot him the finger and then rolled to my back, enjoying the feel of the water.

“How is it?” Kipper asked.

“Great,” I said, rising and falling on the afternoon waves. “The water’s almost warm.”

Kipper jumped in and swam over to me. “We could snorkel,” he suggested.

“Nah,” I said. “The wind’s up too much. We’d have to go up the bay to find clear enough water. The time to snorkel will be in the morning.”

“Water ski?” he asked.

“We could,” I agreed. “Wonder if we could do it naked.”

Kipper laughed. “We could ski down the bayside of the island. It’d be like streaking.”

“Yeah, and somebody’d tell Dad and that’d be the end of our summer.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kipper said, rolling to his back. “I suppose it wouldn’t feel so good either, if you went down and smacked your balls on the water.”

“We could go across to the flats,” I said, nodding toward the other side of the channel. The low flats of the mainland were only a couple hundred yards to the other side. “We could run patterns naked, but keep our shorts handy if we need them.”

Kipper grinned. “Let’s do it!” he said, and then his brow furrowed. “And seriously, Stick, I want to do that sort of stuff, like every day, man… and push ups and sit ups. We need to work out. I’m shooting for first string quarterback this fall, and you gotta be first string middle linebacker.”

“Cool with me,” I said, glancing up at the sun. “But let’s not stay out too long. We don’t want to burn any tender spots.”

Kipper grinned.

* * *

We took the boat over to the flats and back; and swam again afterward to wash off the sweat. And then we returned to the fresh water shower to wash off the salt water. This time, we didn’t even bother soaping own boides first. I started right away on Kipper and he started on me.

We soaped each other back and front and I started coming up hard. Kipper saw it and reached a hand between my legs to soap me under the balls. “Damn, you’re a horndog,” Kipper said with a chuckle.

“You’re getting hard too,” I observed, and soaped his cock to make sure of it.

“Yeah, well when you get hard, it makes me hard.”

We pressed the sides of our bodies together while soaping each other between the legs. Our foreheads came together, and then it was just natural to kiss.

“You up for trying something else?” I asked.

“Cornholing?” Kipper asked, rubbing his cheek on mine.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

We rinsed, went inside, and dried each other off. By then, our cocks were rampantly hard, and I took Kipper into my arms to kiss. He wrapped his arms over my shoulders and we pressed our middles together.

“Kissing with you,” Kipper said softly when we paused for a breath, “is incredible.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, rubbing my cheek on his. “I could do this forever.”

“But,” he said, pulling from my arms with a grin. “Now we’re going to try cornholing.”

Taking me by the hand, he led me over to the open space on the floor in front of the easy chairs, and then he got down onto all fours. He wiggled his butt and looked back over his shoulder at me. “Go for it, Sticks,” he said he said with a grin.

I knelt behind him, and to the side. I ran the palm of my hand over his butt; first one side and then the other. I slipped my hand down between his legs and lifted his balls, and I bent to kiss his ass. “Shit, you’ve got a fine butt, Kips.”

I rubbed between his legs; I rubbed the thick spot just behind his balls. And he moaned.

“You like that, Kips?” I asked quietly as I rubbed.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, lowering his head to his arms on the floor so that he stayed butt high.

“This spot’s called the perineum,” I told him. “In one of my dad’s medical books, it says that it’s real sensitive on guys.”

“Peri… what?” Kipper mumbled.

“Perineum,” I said. “It’s the thick spot between your legs, from just behind your balls on back to your asshole. It’s where the root of your cock really is.” The book had also mentioned odor. In sex, it said, the perineum put off a lot of scent. I took the fingers I’d been using to rub Kipper’s perineum and smelled them.

It was like a shock; a sexual shock. Now I know that guys can smell pretty strong down there, but we had just washed, and we were young and I would find out that Kipper always smelled good down there… at least to me. When I smelled my fingers that first time, it was like the scent shot straight down to my cock and tightened everything down there.

“Oh,” I murmured, and then bent over to smell him directly. His scent was heady, and I took another deep breath. “Oh, Kips,” I murmured. “You smell good down here.”

I maneuvered behind him, kneeling between his knees, and rubbed my crown up and down behind his balls. And then the sight of his butt, all white with a speedo tan line, and his narrow waist, and the curve of his long torso bent down to the floor stirred me as much as his scent had. My jaw clenched and my nostrils flared of their own accord. I laid my cock over the top of his butt and rubbed it on him.

Kipper pushed up off his arms, coming back up onto all fours.

“Damn, Kipper,” I said. “If I get any harder, my cock’s gonna split right out of its skin.”

I folded my body over his, rubbing my cock on his butt and feeling his sides and belly. Kipper pushed back with his bottom and sucked up his gut under my hands. “Do it,” he said, his voice sounding thick.

Kneeling back upright, I took my cock in hand and grasping Kipper by the hip, I aimed into his crack. I could see his opening and put my crown there. Thinking that all I had to do was slip it in, I pressed gently.

His bottom didn’t open to me.

I pressed a little harder, but it still didn’t. And then I remembered having a few enemas when I was younger. “I think we need something,” I said. “Like Vaseline. Something to make it slick.”

I looked around the room, trying to think what to use.

“How about the suntan oil?” Kipper asked. “That coconut stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said, getting up from my knees. I quickly found the oil and returned to Kipper while removing the cap.

I spread the oil on my cock, and was surprised how good that felt. Then putting the oil down, I aimed myself once more into Kipper’s crack and pushed. This time, I slid in and gasped at the sensation as his tightness passed over my crown and onto my shaft.

Kipper’s back tensed and I stopped there. Then he relaxed and I slowly pressed in.

Maybe it was because we didn’t know it could hurt. Maybe it was because we were young and athletic. But for whatever reason, neither Kipper nor I had any difficulty taking each other that first time.

We talked later to other guys whose first experiments with anal sex happened when they were young, and usually, their experience was like ours; it just took a little getting used to.

Now if Kipper or I had been thicker, it probably would have been different. But we were sorta average in the girth department… well maybe on the thick side of average. I simply held Kipper by the hips and eased in; feeling his tightness travel down my shaft, watching my cock disappear into Kipper, until his butt was snug in my lap and all I could say or think was, “Wow!”

I pulled out and eased back in. “You OK, Kips?” I asked; my voice all husky.

He nodded. “It’s OK.”

I pulled back and pushed in again, pulling him back by the hips to meet me. And then again. And again.

“Umm,” Kipper murmured.

“You OK, Kips,” I asked, pausing.

“Yeah. It’s crazy, but it’s starting to feel good.”

“For me, too,” I said, resuming my slow pumping.

I bent over him, moving up on him, wrapping my arms under him, and that changed the angle.

“Oh,” Kipper said with a gasp. “That feels even better.”

It felt different with my body folded over Kipper’s. His hard back under my belly and chest, his sides and stomach under my hands, the inside of his thighs brushing the sides of mine – I felt masculine over him; strong; aroused.

With my arms tightly around him, my gut began clenching and my hips thrusting without my even thinking about it, or thinking at all. It was my first real experience of what’s almost a reflex – a copulating reflex. I drove from my hips, thrusting hard up into Kipper, my balls swinging forward enough to occasionally brush his.

My gut clenched harder and it felt good to clench harder. It felt good to thrust harder. I grabbed Kipper’s shoulders, pulling back on them as I pushed into him as far as I could, taking his tightness down to the base of my shaft. And then pulling back and feeling it slide up, squeezing the underside of my cock… and then back down.

Each time we hit bottom, the pleasurable bump traveled from my ball back deep between my legs. I whimpered.

“Does it feel good?” Kipper asked.

“Oh, shit, Kips,” I murmured. “Way better than good.”

“It doesn’t feel bad for me either,” Kipper said, moving with me.

I didn’t want to stop, but I wasn’t going to come soon, and it seemed right to let Kipper take a turn. “You wanna give it a shot?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

Reluctantly, slowly, I pulled from him, kneeling up.

“Oh, wow,” he said. “That felt weird when you popped out.”

He got up from the floor and came around behind me. I went to all fours.

Kipper gave me the same treatment that I gave him, including the rub of the perineum. And then he oiled and slipped into me, and the thought of Kipper being inside me was both strange and exciting. And the sensations weren’t bad.

Before long, Kipper was thrusting like I had. He bent over me, folding my body under his like I had done to him, and I realized what he meant by it feeling good. Kipper’s angle pressed my prostate. All I knew was that it felt really pleasant.

And then Kipper’s pace quickened. He reached under and grabbed my cock, stroking me as he thrust.

“Whoa, Kips! That feels good,” I murmured.

His thrusts were solid, and made a squishing sound as the whole of his lap pressed my butt and the back of my legs.

He wrapped an arm under me, and sitting back, pulled me back with him so that we were nestled like frogs. And the angle felt even better for me. I sat more upright in his lap, settling my weight onto him, and his cock pressed everything the right way inside me.

“Oh, damn, Kips,” I said with a gasp. “This feels good!

I began rocking my hips gently in his lap, and when Kipper wrapped both arms around my waist, I took over stroking my cock.

I was going to come. It felt so good, it’d be hard not to come soon. I let go of my cock. “Tell me when you’re close to coming Kips. I can come this way… easy. I’ll come with you.”

“OK,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to my back. “It won’t be long.”

* * *

We rolled onto our sides after we finished, and Kipper stayed spooned behind me after his cock slipped out.

“How was it for you?” I asked.

“Incredible,” he said, nuzzling into the back of my neck.

“It’s sorta different, being inside each other like that,” I said, trying to put a handle on the intimacy we had shared. “Sorta like being all joined up together.” I reached behind me to lay a hand on Kipper’s hip. “I liked it, Kips, and not just the...” it didn’t seem right to call it cornholing; not what we had done.

With an arm across my chest, Kipper pulled me tightly back against him. “Yeah,” he whispered behind my ear. “All joined up together.” He squeezed me tightly and pressed his loins to my butt.

* * *

The setting sun filled the sky with red, and I stood in the doorway to watch it, my hand high up on the door jam. Kipper came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my belly and another around my chest; pulling my naked body back to his. He kissed the nape of my neck, and then watched the sunset with me.

That one possessive gesture made the statement better than if either of us had said it out loud; Kipper and I had become lovers.

I can tell you that having a lover at fifteen is an incredible experience… especially if your lover is fourteen… especially if your lover is Kipper. I wrapped an arm over the one he had around my waist and leaned back against him.

“You going to feel like night fishing?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“All sexed out?” I asked, laying my head back against his.

“For now,” he said, nuzzling under my ear.

I nodded, and we watched silently as the sun slipped beneath the horizon.

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