Date: Tue, 25 Jan 2000 20:24:52 -0800 (PST) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: First Mate, Chap. 1 Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. It contains graphic descriptions of sex between and among young adult men, and anyone who finds this subject matter objectionable, or who is not of legal age in his or her political jurisdiction to read such material, must leave immediately. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the amusement and entertainment or readers. It may not be posted or reprinted in any other medium without the written consent of its author. Comments are always welcome. First Mate Chapter One The Meeting Christmas is always a special time for family and friends, but that Christmas things were really humming in my life. First, I had just finished my last football season of high school by running in the winning touchdown in the district playoff game. I had scored before as quarterback, but never anything like that. Second, I had said goodbye to high school after my final exams were over on December 22nd. I had taken the option of early graduation, and I was out of there. Most of my friends had finished at the end of their junior year, but I had come back to play football. That was all over, though, and I would never have to answer another fucking 7:15 bell for first period. I had already decided to work a year or a year-and-a-half before going to college, and I was looking forward to the adult responsibility, not to mention the cash, a job would bring. I was going to start looking right after the holidays. Third, and best of all, the whole family would be home for Christmas for the first time in six years. That included my dad's step-brother, Rick, whom we hadn't seen since he had left for Key West when he was twenty-two, six years before. When he left, I was only twelve, and a very awkward twelve, at that. I couldn't wait to see him and hear all about his adventures running a charter sailboat in the Caribbean, and I couldn't wait to see his reaction to me. When Rick left home, I was maybe 5' 4" and weighed maybe 85 pounds. By the time I was eighteen, though, as I had been since December 7th, I was an even six feet and weighed right at 175. All the weight training and exercise I had put in playing sports in middle school and high school had done wonders for my body, and, with a body-fat percentage just under 5%, I was a lean, mean machine. Puberty had been rough, but it had left me with a cock that was a full six inches from root to tip--soft. And that wasn't even counting the foreskin that covered the head of my tool and dripped over about a quarter inch. When I got hard, I measured in at eight solid inches of length and almost six inches of circumference. My dirty blond hair, which, unfortunately (I thought) confined itself to my head, pubes, underarms, and face, looked good, especially in the summer when it tended to lighten considerably in the sun. The blond look, set against the tan that I seemed to be able to get in a couple of hours of exposure to the sun, made more than one head turn when I walked down the mall or through some other public place. A lot of people thought I was handsome, too, but even I am embarrassed to go into the glories of my good looks. Yeah, right. Seriously, the handsomest senior guy in school was traditionally chosen as Homecoming King, and I had been chosen for that "honor" that year (What it really meant was that I had to stick around till the fucking end of the dance, instead of splitting halfway through the way everyone but the geeks had done.). I was very pleased with myself (Is that the definition of conceit?) except for one thing. Girls. Oh, sure, I had fucked my share of 'em; every jock has to do that. But I never really cared for them as more than friends. When I did bag a chick, as we so delicately put it, I often found myself thinking of images of guys I had downloaded from the Internet as I plugged them or ate their pussies. This one friend of mine, a boy whose name actually was Guy, and I had sucked and fucked each other a few times that fall, and, frankly, that was ten times better than coming into some cunt. I thought I was probably gay, and that kind of scared me. Anyway, those thoughts were a thousand miles from my mind when I woke up on the morning of December 23rd. That was the day Rick was coming home, and I was genuinely excited. My two older sisters, their husbands, and their kids were already there. I had been allowed to move into the apartment over our garage the summer before, so their being in the house didn't really bother me. I woke up around eleven that morning--hard, as usual--made some coffee in the little kitchen in my place, and took a long, slow leak. It was in the 70's, as it often is in northern Florida in December, so I stayed in my briefs to watch a little TV, drink my coffee, and smoke my first cigarette of the day. Nothing much was on TV, so I switched on my computer and went to the Badpuppy Web site. A guy on IRC had given me a user name and password, so I was able to get to all the "good" stuff on Badpuppy. It was amazing to me how huge that site was, and every time I logged on I found new pictures and videos and shit I hadn't seen before. It wasn't long before I had a raging hard-on, so I jerked off into the wastebasket (lined with a plastic bag) I kept next to my computer for that purpose, and trash, too, of course. I had a second cup of coffee, smoked another Marlboro, and decided to take a shower. Just as I was getting out of the shower, the phone rang. It was my dad. "Rick's plane is delayed in Atlanta," he said. "Can you pick him up at 5:30?" "Yes, sir," I said. "Good. Your mom and I would like to get him, but we've got to be at the Adams' for their cocktail party. They're important clients, and we absolutely can't miss that." "Yes, sir, I know," I said. In the South we say "sir" and "m'am" to our parents until they die. I was certainly no different from any other well-brought-up guy I knew. My parents were both CPA's, and they depended on people like the Adamses, who had like ten motels on the beach, to keep bread on the table. "Will you explain the situation to Rick, Kevin? I know he's expecting us to be there to meet him." "Yes, sir. I'll make sure he knows what the deal is. I just hope we recognize one another." "Well, Christ, son, it's not like the Panama City airport is O'Hare." "True. I'll find him, Dad, even if I have to hold up one of those tacky signs." My dad laughed. He knew I would never do such an uncool thing in my life. "Your sisters and Grammy are going with us to the party. The grandbabies are going to be with a sitter. Y'all can stop by the party, too, if you feel like it. On second thought, just bring him home. He won't be dressed." Grammy was my grandmother, of course, my dad's mom and Rick's former step-mother. His real mother had been dead for years. Grammy was about seventy-five, then, and she had just returned from a seventeen-day cruise of the Mediterranean. She had buried both my grandfather and Rick's dad, and there was still plenty of energy and spunk in her. She lived in Tallahassee, which is where my dad had grown up, and she, too, occupied one of the bedrooms for the holidays. Counting Rick and the two grandkids, there would be eleven of us at home for Christmas. I got dressed and went to the mall to get a haircut. The place was packed, and I had to wait thirty minutes at Regis. I looked around some after my haircut, but the crowd was too heavy to spend much time there. I went across the street to Office Max and played around with the computers and shit for about an hour. Then I went next door to Books-a-Million and wasted more time there. When I finally thought to check my watch, it was 3:30. I decided to try out my new fake ID at the Albertson's liquor store. I wanted to have a little something on hand, in case Rick wanted a drink. He would be sleeping in my place--in my bed with me, in fact--and I wanted to be a gracious host. I saw two guys from school in there, and we just grinned at each other as we passed in the aisle. I bought a quart each of bourbon, scotch, gin, vodka, and rum, not knowing what Rick liked, and a case of beer. I ran my copy of my parents' American Express card through the machine, and the clerk, a black girl of maybe twenty-one, didn't even look at me. That place was just as hopping as the mall had been. Back home I put my purchases away. I made some more coffee and sat down in front of the computer. I went back to the Badpuppy site and got some more pictures of hot guys, but, even though I got hard, I refrained from jerking off. The airport was like twenty minutes from our house, so I left at around 4:45 to go get Rick. I was glad I had decided to go then because the traffic was heavier than I had thought it would be. I got there with fifteen minutes to spare, and, for once, his plane came in when they said it would. I recognized him immediately, and I boned up in my jeans. I'm sure nobody noticed, what with all the activity of welcoming travellers. Nobody but Rick, that is. We shook hands when he came out into the terminal, and I grabbed his bag. "Let's go get your luggage," I said. "That's it," he said. "One carry-on." "Cool," I said. "You got a cucumber in your pocket, dude," he asked. I'm sure I turned as red as the pack of Marlboros in my shirt pocket when he said that. I ignored the comment, and he laughed heartily. Once we were in the car, he said, "Man, I'm dying for a smoke. Can I have one of yours?" I instinctively grabbed the box of Marlboro Reds from my shirt pocket and tossed it to him. He lit up, and I did, too. "Goddamn, you're a fucking _stud_," Rick said. I'm sure I turned bright red again. Here was one of the most gorgeous men I had ever laid eyes on telling me _I'm_ a stud. If I was a stud, he was two studs. He was twenty-eight, but he looked more like twenty-one or twenty-two. "What the hell did you do, play football or something?" "Yes, sir," I said. I knew that was wrong as the words were coming out of my mouth, but he was older and I was conditioned. "What did you say?" "I said 'yes, sir,' but I meant 'yeah, asshole.'" "Well, thank God," he said. "I'm looking for a party-buddy. Not some guy who's gonna call me fucking 'sir.'" "Shit, man. You know what the rules are here. I call everybody older than me 'sir.'" "I'm just rubbin' your cock a little, Kevin. Yeah, I know the rules, and I'll be calling guys 'sir,' too, in about a half hour." We both laughed, but I really wondered about the "rubbing your cock a little" comment. Shit, there I was, rock hard with my step-uncle in the car next to me, and he's talking about rubbing my cock. I was completely taken with this guy, and I wanted to pull over and do nasty things to his body. "Can we stop at a store so I can buy some smokes," he asked. "I'm completely out, and I know you're not gonna want me smokin' all of yours." I pulled into a convenience store. We went in together, and he bought a carton of Marlboro Reds, box. Well, at least we had that in common. Same brand of cigarettes. When we pulled into the alley that runs down the side of our property, Rick said he didn't remember the place all that well. "Wow," he said. "This is nice doings." "Thanks, man," I said, trying my best to sound and act cool. "The house is full, so you're gonna be sleeping with me in my apartment," I said. "Cool." We walked up the outdoor staircase that led to my apartment. He was in front of me, and I got a real good look at his luscious ass. Damn, it was fine. Real hard, and his jeans kinda seeped into his crack. Mine did that on me, but I had never before realized how sexy it looked. At least, to me it did. I unlocked the door and held it open. Rick went inside first. "Well, shit, man. This is first class," he said. "Thanks. I like it." I showed him around. The tiny kitchen, the living room where my computer, TV, and stereo were, the bedroom, and the bathroom. That's all there was, but it was home to me. My mom had helped me pick out shit like curtains and the bedspread and stuff, and I had inherited some furniture that was already in the place. When we were younger, we had had a maid who lived up there, but the place had been empty for several years before I moved in. "What is this," he asked, pointing to a picture on the wall. "What does it look like?" "It looks like Jane. Your grandmother. My ex-step-mother." "Well, that's who it is," I said. "Who drew it," he asked. It was obvious he was impressed with the picture. "I drew it," I said. "It was for an art class in school." "Goddamn, man. That's a perfect likeness. You did that freehand?" "Yeah." "You got some real talent, there, Kevin." After Rick had "stowed his gear," as he had put it, we went out into the living room. "Would you like something to drink," I asked. "Hell, yeah. Whacha got?" I started with coffee and coke, and then progressed through the array of liquors I had bought that afternoon. "Rum and coke sounds great to me," he said. I got up and fixed that for him. I made myself a real light bourbon and coke, too. "Where are George and Debbie," he asked, referring to my parents. "And Jane? I thought she would be here, too." I explained about the cocktail party, and he said he understood. "Are you hungry," I asked. "Not really," he said. "I had a late lunch in Atlanta. Are you?" "I can wait," I said. Then I remembered I had some cheese and crackers, so I got those for us. "So tell me about yourself. You got a girlfriend," he asked. "Naw. Not really." "You play the field, huh? Cool. Besides, you don't really need a girl when you've got Rosy Palm around." "What?" "Rosy Palm," he said again, and started doing the jerk-off motion with his hand. I must have blushed, which, back then, was something I did often when any reference to me and sex came up. "Come on, man, we all do it," he said. "Goddamn, you're cute. Do you know that?" I'm sure I blushed even deeper with that statement. He ruffled my newly-cut hair and laughed. We both lit cigarettes and just kind of sat there. In a second, he stood up and took off his shirt. My eyes probably popped out of my head when he did that. His chest was as smooth as mine, but he had really well developed pecs and a ripple of hard muscle in his abs. What really got me, though, were the tattoo that encircled his left bicep and the gold rings that hung from each nipple. My cock, which had never really gone down fully since the airport, sprang back to life in three heartbeats. "I'm not used to wearing much clothes," he said. Then, when he noticed me staring, "You like?" "Y-Yeah," I stuttered. "What do you like?" "Well, er, the tattoo, and the rings. Did that hurt to have your nipples pierced?" "Yeah, for like ten seconds. The tat hurt worse, but even that wasn't bad." "I really want some just like that. I've seen them on guys in pictures, and they look so cool." "Thanks. I like them." "What do they do for you," I asked. "The rings, I mean." "They're for sex, man. I can come just by playing with 'em. Or having some guy play with them." I have no idea of what I must have looked like at that moment, but it prompted Rick to say, "You know I'm gay, don't you?" Ton of bricks. "No, er..." "Yeah, man. I've been out in Key West for years." "Do my parents know?" "Uh, probably. I never really thought about it. Jane knows. Do they know about you?" "What do you mean," I stumbled through. "You're gay, too, aren't you?" What I had feared about myself was obviously perfectly evident to this man. His asking that somehow made it okay to be gay, though, and I felt like a huge load had been lifted from my shoulders. "How did you know," I asked. All of a sudden I got really worried that my dark secret was, in fact, known to everyone. "Come on, man. Straight guys don't bone up the way you did just by looking at a guy in the airport. You're still not comfortable with it, are you?" My reaction embarrassed me. I started to cry. Rick leaned over and put his hand on my shoulder. "Let it out, buddy. It's a relief, isn't it?" I cried and laughed, and laughed and cried, all at the same time. "Am I the first person you've told," he asked. I nodded through my sobs. "It wasn't until I got away from Tallahassee that I could accept it, either, man. You will, in time." "I'm just so fucked up, man. I don't know what the fuck I am. Jesus, this is hard." "I know it is. But you've got someone in me who understands, if that helps." I gradually settled down after that outburst, but I felt a whole lot better. My cock was as hard as it had ever been in my life, I think, and precum was soaking my briefs. "Have you been with a guy," he asked. I told him about the stuff I'd done with Guy. I spilled my guts out to him. I told him about my fantasies and about my interest in gay stuff on the Internet. I told him about my unfulfilling trysts with girls. I told him everything. When I had spewed out the entire contents of my psyche, he asked, "Do you find me attractive? Cause I think you're about the hottest guy I've seen in years." "I find you very attractive, man. But I think my dick already told you that." He laughed. "Yeah, it did," he said. Right then he got up and made us each another drink. My second one was a good bit stronger than the first had been. When he handed it to me, he leaned forward and kissed me squarely on the lips. It felt wonderful, and, in an instant, I opened my mouth for his tongue. He set his drink down and sat next to me on the sofa. He kissed me long and hard and wet, and, God, I loved it. When we finally broke the kiss, he said, "Nobody's got to know until you're ready to tell them, okay?" "Okay," I said, and tears welled up in my eyes again, only this time they were tears of relief and joy. "I'm gonna be here for a week, and I'm ready to do anything you want, okay?" "Okay," I managed to say. I was quivvering with nervousness and excitement. Oh, God, I wanted to do everything with him. Everything. Just then I heard my dad's car pull into the garage under us. "They're home," I said. "We ought to go down and see them." "You go freshen up, okay. You don't want them to see you with your face looking like that." "Okay," I whimpered. I knew he was right, so I stood up to go to the bathroom to wash my face. "Come here," he said. I walked over to him, not knowing what to expect. "This bone's gotta go, too, man," he said, rubbing my crotch. "You need to get rid of that in the bathroom. Okay?" "Yeah. I hear you." "Now go get cleaned up. And, oh, change your underwear and jeans. The wet spot shows." I couldn't believe what had just happened, but I did as he said. I was, like, on automatic as I went into the bathroom, jerked off, washed my face, put drops in my very red eyes, and took off my jeans and briefs. I started to wrap a towel around myself but figured "what the hell" and just walked out without pants on. By then my cock was almost soft again, although not fully. "Hey, Kevin. How'd you escape the knife, man?" "What are you talking about," I asked. That's how na^Ėve I was. "Your cock, dude. How'd you manage to get through uncut?" "Not circumcised, you mean?" I had always thought that my foreskin was a liability, an embarrassment. There were times when I hated it, in fact. Being different in the pee-pee department isn't easy for a kid. "Yeah, man. Jesus, in Key West, looking like you do, with a gigantic uncut cock, you'd be a god. Tan your butt a little bit, and you'd have every guy on the island at your command." I didn't know how to respond to that comment. I hurried and got fresh underwear and some fresh jeans. "Let's go downstairs to see 'em," I said. "Oh, and no smoking in the house. Mom's rule." "Gotcha," he said, and we went downstairs to see the rest of the family. My dad was just hanging up the phone when we walked into the kitchen "I was just calling you guys," he said. "Hey, Rick. How the hell are you, man?" My dad extended his hand with a major grin on his face. Rick took it, and they shook warmly. Then Rick said, "Shit, I want a hug" and threw his arms around my dad. Dad responded with genuine affection. We went into the den where the rest of the family was waiting, and there was much hugging and kissing all around. Rick hadn't even met my two brothers-in-law, and he oooh-ed and ahhh-ed over the two grandchildren. My dad made drinks for everyone who wanted one. When he had served all of us, giving me a plain coke, I snuck back into the kitchen, poured some of it out, and put a healthy slug of bourbon in it. Rick knew what I was up to, and he grinned at me when I returned to the den. In a few minutes, my sisters each put their kid to bed. My mom had set out some food, so Rick and I attacked it. The others had eaten at the party, but we still hadn't had anything to eat. That night was one of the best times I have ever had with my family. Everybody was in a great mood, and Rick and the others told one funny story after another. He talked about his charter business and about the pirates he had to watch out for in the Caribbean. I had always assumed Pirates of the Caribbean was just a ride at Disney World, but, apparently, they were real. At some point Rick mentioned that his partner had decided to sell out to him and move on. He had functioned as first mate, Rick said, and he would have to be replaced. He looked directly at me when he said that. That "partner" was probably a lover, and that explained Rick's sudden desire to be with us that Christmas--he had nowhere else to go. During the evening, I had to explain about finishing high school and about my plans to find a job for a while. Again, Rick looked at me differently, and I wondered if he saw me as potential first mate material. The party went on till around eleven, when Grammy said she had to retire. That kind of broke things up, and everybody else said they were real tired and that we had a big couple of days ahead of us. Rick and I left by the back door. The first thing he did was light a cigarette. I hadn't even brought mine, so he gave me one. We smoked as we walked toward the garage. "Did you get enough to eat," he asked. "Not really," I said. "Did you?" "Fuck, no. Cheese balls and chips don't do it for me." "Let's go get a pizza," I said, and he readily agreed. We didn't talk much on the ride to Pizza Hut, except for Rick saying how great everyone looked and how much he had enjoyed the evening. "You guys are about the closest thing to a family I'll ever have," he said. I thought about that for a second and realized he was right. Both of his parents were dead, he didn't have any siblings, and marriage, at least traditional marriage, was out of the question. He was right. We _were_ his only family, and he wasn't related by blood to anyone. After we ordered and the waitress brought us a pitcher of beer (my fake ID worked just fine, thank you very much), Rick said, "Did you hear what I said tonight about needing a new first mate?" "I sure did. Where will you find one?" "That's a good question. My charter service is exclusively gay, so whoever he turns out to be will have to be gay. We rarely wear clothes on board, and the sex is pretty free and open." "Damn, you guys all have sex together?" "Yeah. Some guys are with their partners and don't participate with others, but a lot of gay men are willing to suck or fuck anybody, even if they're committed." I was a little nervous that somebody might have overheard what he had just said, but I decided to pay my surroundings no mind. We were seated in the smoking section, and the other two or three tables in the place were all in non-smoking. "That must be kinda fun," I said. "It's a fucking ball, man, if you'll pardon the pun." I laughed, and he did, too. "So what does a first mate have to know," I asked. "Well, you need a license from the Coast Guard, but you can get that in two weeks by attending a school they run." "Do you think I could do it," I asked, hoping against hope I had read his reaction to my plans correctly earlier in the evening. "Oh, hell, yeah. It's not rocket science. Besides, I can really run the boat by myself. Having a mate is really window dressing my insurance carrier requires. You think you might be interested?" "Well, fuck, yeah, I'm interested. What guy my age wouldn't be? Plus, I've done some sailing around here. I know the basics, I think." "All _right_, partner. Put it there." We shook hands and both grinned from ear to ear. "You can leave with me when I go back New Year's Day. Is that okay with you?" "Sure." "Oh. Do you have a passport? You'll need to get one, if you don't." "No problem. I've got one." I had been to Europe with a school group the previous summer, so my papers were in order. "How's your Spanish?" "Spanish?" "Yeah. Do you speak any Spanish?" "A little. I had three years of it in high school. I can get by, I think." "Good. By this time next year, you'll be rattling it off like a native." Again he grinned. I was so excited about all of this that I barely tasted the pizza I ate. He told me about all the places we'd be going on a regular basis, and I couldn't wait to get started. It was after one o'clock when we left the Pizza Hut. On the way home, Rick said, "Will you take me shopping tomorrow? I don't have gifts for anybody. I didn't even think of it until I saw all those packages under the tree tonight. Christmas hasn't meant much to me for the last few years." "Sure, man. I'll even help you wrap 'em." God, I would have done anything for him. Christmas shopping, even on Christmas Eve, would be a piece of cake. When we got home, Rick asked if he could have a nightcap, so I fixed a drink for each of us. Even though I had had quite a bit more to drink that night than I was used to, I didn't feel the least bit high. "I'm gonna get comfortable," Rick said. He stood up and shucked his shoes, shirt, and jeans, and he wasn't wearing underwear. There he stood, naked before me. His body was deeply tanned all over, even his cock, and that particular feature interested me the most. It was about three inches long in its flaccid state, but I knew that most guys get a lot bigger proportionally than I did when they get hard. I decided to get naked, too. I wasn't at all shy about being naked in lockerrooms or public showers, so it wasn't a big deal. "My God, but you're a hunk," he said when I was fully undressed. "Come here. Let me see that thing up close." I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but my confusion disappeared when he took my penis into his hand. "This fucker is gorgeous, man. Are you aware of that?" "Well, thanks. I guess. Nobody has ever told me that before." "Well, get used to it, dude. You're gonna have guys worshipping it in a few weeks." Rick was playing with my foreskin, pushing is back and exposing the head. As horny as I was, the least glance at my dick would have pumped it up, and what he was doing to it made me rock hard in no time. "Nice," he said. "Most uncut guys don't have really big cock heads, but you're different. The head of your cock is a as big as an uncut guy, any day." I looked down and saw that his cock was as hard as mine. "You like top or bottom?" "Pardon me." "Oh, sorry. You're not really into the gay scene, are you? You ever have sex with a man besides your friend?" "No. Just what I told you about with Guy." "He fucked you up your ass, right?" "Yeah, a couple of times." "Did you like it?" "I liked that best of all that we did, man," I said. "Would you like me to fuck you," he asked. "I think I would," I said. God, Rick, I thought, I'd let you do anything to me. "Turn around and bend over. Let me get a good look at that bubble butt on you." I did as Rick asked, resting my hands on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He started caressing my cheeks, and, all of a sudden, I wanted all of him inside me. He spread my cheeks apart and very gently started touching my asshole. Whooa! What a feeling. "Nice tight hole, it looks like," he said. I didn't respond. In a second, I felt his hot, wet tongue licking my hole. I almost came. I took a few deep breaths and the urge to orgasm passed. He continued licking me and running his tongue up inside me. I thought I was in heaven. "You got any lube? Any KY or Vaseline or anything like that?" I had a tube of KY in the drawer of my nightstand that I used to jerk off with sometimes, so I went and got it. I also had the presence of mind to get a couple of towels. "Are you sure you want this," Rick asked. "Man, I'm so fucking ready, if you don't do it, I'm taking back your Christmas present." That really made him laugh. "Okay, you know what's gonna happen, right?" "Yeah." "I'm gonna lube up your hole, as deep as I can get it. Then I'll lie on my back and you can ease down on me. That way, you'll be in control. Is that okay?" That was how Guy and I had done it. Rick applied the lube to my ass, and it felt so good, I couldn't wait. Then he asked me to put some lube on his cock. I was a little hesitant about touching him. He noticed and grabbed my hand. "Slick it down, man," he said, and my hesitancy disappeared. Rick suggested we get into bed. Duh. I don't know where my head was (yes, I do), but I thought that was a great idea. We pulled back all the covers. Rick spread a towel on the bed and positioned himself on his back. I straddled him and slowly eased myself down. "Take your time, now. It might hurt a little at first, but I guarantee you it won't hurt for long." He rubbed the head of his cock on my hole for a few seconds. Then he inserted a couple of fingers into me. My cock was dripping precum, literally, onto his chest. Slowly, deliberately, I eased down onto him. I felt the head of his six-incher go inside me. Then I felt it start to penetrate the ring of muscle. I knew to bear down like I was taking a shit (all those stories I'd read, plus a little experience, you know), and, to my surprise, his cock slide into me. "Damn, Kevin. You're a fucking natural at this. Or a natural fucker. Or something like that." We both laughed. "Ride it, man. Move up and down." I knew that much, of course, and I did as he said. Slowly at first, and then with increased speed. I went up too high a few times, and his cock came out of me. "I think you're ready for me to be on top," he said. I got off his cock and onto my back on the bed. He got in front of me and raised my legs up onto his shoulders. He entered me again, and this time the sensation was better. "I'm on your sweet spot, I think. Can you tell?" All of a sudden, the inside of my body exploded in pleasure. "Yeah," I gasped. He laughed. "Now let me give you the fucking you deserve," he said. Wow, what a time I had. I came in the hardest orgasm of my young life, but Rick kept right on fucking. I stayed hard, and, eventually, we both came at the same time. I remember thinking for a second that I was going to pass out. I didn't, though. Instead, I spasmed and shot load after load onto my chest for the second time. Rick put my legs down and lay on top of me. He kissed me deeply, and I wanted that moment to last forever. It couldn't, of course. Rick started getting soft inside me, and, in a few seconds, his dick slipped out. He used one towel to clean us both up. He told me to stay put, and he got our drinks and cigarettes. "I can't wait to do it again," I said. "Did you really like it as much as you seemed to?" "Man, it was the best experience of my life. Thank you." I gave him a little kiss on the lips. "You're a hot fuck, dude," he said. "And that's quite a compliment coming from this boy." "Can we do it again," I asked impatiently. "Tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. But right now, I'm bushed. And we've got Christmas shopping to do in the morning." I knew he was right, of course. "What time do you want to get up," I asked. "Nine?" "Cool," I said, and I set my clock for nine o'clock the next morning. Actually, later that morning, since it was almost three o'clock. I got up to turn off lights and to brush my teeth. When I got back in bed, Rick was already asleep. He was asleep on his side, with his butt facing me. I spooned up against his body and enjoyed the warmth of him. In ten minutes or less, I was hard and asleep.