Date: Fri, 18 May 2001 16:31:10 EDT
From: AmateurishWriter@aol.com
Subject: M.A.R.C. Ch. 7

M.A.R.C.

Warning: The following story is a work of fiction.  It is a fantasy.  It
never happened, except in the author's imagination.  This story may contain
sex between teenage boys, a man and a teenage boy or multiple male teens.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and little
children. If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, you
already know what you're supposed to do.  Delete this file and find
something else.  If this kind of story turns you off, delete this file and
find something else.  If you're looking for a story that has someone having
sex in every other sentence, this one is not it.

The author retains the copyright for this story.  Placing this story on a
commercial web site without the authors permission is a violation of that
copyright.

Comments to AmateurishWriter@aol.com, pro and con and of a constructive
nature, will be gratefully received and acknowledged, if possible.  Flamers
will be ignored.


Near the end of Chapter Six:

"I may be only just 13 but I think I know what my parents wanted if the
worst ever happened.  I often heard them talking at night and one night
they talked about you.  They knew you were gay.  And, one time I heard them
say something else about you, that you may be interested in young teenaged
boys.  I think the term they used was boy lover.  Don't you think if they
were worried about you as my God father they would have changed that?
Uncle John, I told them a long time ago about my feelings.  About my being
sure I was gay.  They were sad but never stopped loving me.  I guess we
will never know what they really thought.  This I am sure of though; I have
known you all my life.  I have loved you as long as I can remember.  I know
you would never do anything to harm me because I know you love me as much
as I love you.  When I am hugging you and feeling all sexy, I only know
that it is right for me.  I know I could never feel so good with anyone
else.  I don't want it to ever end.  But, I'm just a 13 year old kid.  What
the fuck do I know!"

He was angry now and I looked at him in shock and not just a little bit
impressed.  I reached out and touched his cheek in the near dark.  I stared
into his eyes for what seemed like forever.  Finally I spoke, "Thank you my
boy."  I lay back not taking my eyes from his.

He finally broke our eye contact and snuggled his face into my neck.  "I
love you John, more than anything in the world and I trust you completely.
I hope we can be together for ever."  He twirled his fingers in my chest
hair and gently rubbed my leg with his.  Little did he know.


Chapter Seven - Thar she blows

We fell asleep like that and awoke like that.  I opened my eyes to see the
top of Marc's head and feel his fingers in the hair of my chest.  I kissed
his head and he tilted it up and smiled at me.  "Hi there, 'bout time you
woke up.  I am about to wet the bed."

"Gee," I yawned. "And I thought you were house broken."

"Oh YOU!" Marc chided.  "Always with the joke."

"I love to hear you giggle.  What can I say?"  We kissed and disengaged
from each other.  Rolling out of bed, we both dashed into the bathroom.  He
raised the seat and we peed together like a couple of 8 year olds, giggling
at crossing streams and talking bathroom humor.

"What are we going to do today?" Marc asked.  I listed a number of errands
and then suggested a sail in the afternoon.

Breakfast, the most important meal of the day ... or so they say.  It was
never a big deal to me.  I loved bacon and eggs, the whole deal, but rarely
had it.  Not so much for health reasons as for reasons of laziness.  So,
this morning Marc decides to have cereal.  In typical kid fashion, he
rummaged through the cupboards leaving half of them open looking for
something or other puffs or some other kid cereal.  "Uncle John, there's no
cereal except this bran stuff for old people."

I took the shot in stride.  "I'm sorry Marc.  We can pick up what you like
today."  We both settled for toast and jam.  Then we headed out to run
errands.  The returning of six pairs of very sexy briefs was put off a day
but the purchase of bed sheets for Marc's new bed was not.  I also took him
down to the golf range and scheduled some lessons for him.  He absolutely
worshipped Tiger Woods, David DuVal and of all people the much talented but
troubled Jon Daly.  However, the highlight of the day was picking up my
boat which had been at the boat yard for some work.  We stopped at the deli
and stocked up on sandwiches, fruit, snacks and soda.  Then, leaving our
purchases and the car at the house, we carried the deli goodies over to the
yacht club which was just a short walk.  There, I got the launch boy at the
yacht club to run us across the bay to the boat yard.  That way we wouldn't
have car logistical problems.

Marc ran up to the bow and stood there, holding the rail, with the wind
blowing through his soft nearly white hair.  I watched him and his
beautiful bottom as it strained in his not quite big enough shorts and
bounced as the launch bounced on the waves.  I seated myself on the
starboard side opposite the launch boy who stood at his control station on
the port.  Turning my attention to the launch boy, I saw that he was a
handsome lad of about 15 or 16.  Maybe 5' 8" slim and with brown hair.  He
was bronze and sexy in just his running shorts and aviator shades.  I
followed his gaze forward and realized that he too was enjoying Marc's
bouncing boy buttocks.  Keeping my head angled forward so I would appear to
be looking that way, I swiveled my eyes behind my own concealing pair of
shades and checked out the launch boys shorts.  Shortly a significant bulge
appeared that too bounced with the waves.  He glanced quickly at me and,
thinking that I was looking forward, slipped his hand inside the waste of
his shorts and repositioned his hardon.  In spite of myself, I coughed to
clear my throat and he quickly withdrew his hand, which had lingered a
moment or two longer then necessary.

We arrived at the boat yard and Marc dashed up the dock.  I pulled out a
twenty dollar bill.  A significant over tipping for the launch boy and as I
slipped it into his palm, I held his hand very tight.  Locking shade
covered eyes with shade covered eyes, I spoke quietly but firmly.  "If you
like your job my handsome young stud, keep your eyes on your work."

I stepped off the launch without looking back and jogged after Marc who was
waiting at the top of the ramp.

We walked to the next dock and quickly finding the boat we got aboard.
Marc set about exploring.  Meanwhile, I got her ready to go and the motor
running.

"Wow!  This is a great boat Uncle John."  He was so excited.  "I love the
cabin and all the electronics.  Will you teach me how they all work?"

"Sure.  It will be fun but first we have to get going.  See the line tied
to the bow and the one to the stern?  They belong to the boat yard so just
untie them and toss them on the float."

He hustled to carry out my directions and we drifted neatly away from the
dock.  When we were clear I put her in forward and turned her towards the
harbor entrance.  Once clear of the harbor we set the sails and headed out
beyond the reef in the hopes of seeing some whales or dolphins.  It was
nice to turn off the motor.  The breeze was perfect and I let Marc move
freely about the 30 foot sloop.  He was curious about everything and how it
worked.  I started the beginnings of sailing instructions but told the boy;
"The true test of a good sailor is in helmsmanship."

"Helmsmanship?"

"Yes, that's nautical talk for steering.  The wheel or tiller, like on this
boat, is called the helm."

"Okay, so this is the tiller."  He pointed to it.

"You got it.  Quite frankly," I warned him "in steering a sailboat Marc,
you either have it or you don't.  There are few people who pickup sailing
after their early teens who can steer worth a damn.  It's something both
mental and physical.  Hand-eye coordination along with inner ear input and
tactile input from the movement of the breeze on your skin.  I don't really
know for sure all that's involved but I do know that this, as far as I'm
concerned, is the true test."

I sat him down on the other side of the cockpit and told him to rest his
hand on the tiller just forward of mine.  Then he was to watch the bow of
the boat, the waves and the horizon beyond.  He was to try to get a feel
for the amount of movement of the tiller and the movement of the boat.  I
explained about picking a point on the shore and steering to it.  I showed
him what to watch for in the shape of the sails and the interaction of the
wind and the motion of the waves.  I kept up a steady low and calming
dialog and watched the smile on his face broaden.

He was a natural.  After about an hour, which he would later insist seemed
like only minutes, we were quite far out and I praised him on how well he
was doing.  He glanced at me to say thank you, as I knew he would, and the
look on his face was worth a million words.  I had long since sat back on
the rail, leaning on the life line, far from any contact with the tiller.
He had been sailing the boat all by himself for nearly 15 minutes.

Just then a humpback broached about a quarter mile away right on our
course.  Whales aren't afraid of boats, especially sailboats and as we grew
closer he continued to frolic in the water.  I let Marc go forward to get a
better look.  When the whale decided to sound (dive deep) we came about and
headed home.  Marc was beside himself because he couldn't decide which had
been better, learning to steer of watching the whale.

He came and sat between my knees as I sat up on the rail.  His head rested
in my lap as he gazed up at the sails.  "Uncle John?  Sometime can we go
some where and spend the night on the boat?"

I was thrilled.  "Yes, sure Marc.  How about tonight?"

"You mean tonight, as in now?"

"Yup"

"Awesome!" he cheered.

I explained that the boat was always provisioned with enough for a couple
days, just in case.  I kept some clothes and other necessary things onboard
because you never knew what the weather might do.  The house was locked and
we had no obligations so we headed for a small island harbor a few miles
off shore.  It was just getting dark as I set the anchor.

The first lesson in sleeping out on the boat was that it got cooler than
onshore.  Marc was shivering when we got down below and I gave him some
sweat pants and a sweater.  They were much too large but he looked adorable
in them.  Marc laid out some cheese and crackers for us to nibble while I
fired up the stove and cooked up a hearty meal of canned beef stew, hot tea
and some cookies for desert.

Marc said just what I had expected, "Man, that's the best food I ever had!"

There is something about eating supper on a boat after a day of sailing,
everything tastes better.  And, there are other things that seem, if not
better, at least special when on a boat on a cool evening.

After the dishes were done we both started to yawn.  Marc said, "I'm going
to sleep well tonight, I can just feel it."

"Yes," I agreed, "I always sleep well onboard."

"Where do we sleep?" he asked.  I showed him the choices hoping he would
choose my favorite; "Up forward there are two single bunks, back aft there
is that small one and then there is this side bunk.  Or, we could fold down
the dining table and make it a double bunk."

He grinned up at me and said, "How do we fold down the table?"

I got the bunk all put together and Marc zippered together the two sleeping
bags.  I used the head first and asked Marc to brush his teeth and wash the
salt spray off his face as I had done.  While he was in there I stripped
and climbed in the bunk.  When he came out he looked confused. "What do I
sleep in?"

"Why, the sleeping bag silly." I teased.

"But ..."  I lifted the bag open and he saw that I was naked.  "Oh." He
blushed.  I lay there and watched him take his clothes off.  We were both
hard by the time he climbed in with me.  He was hard but far from hot.  He
was shivering and I had to hold him close and rub his back and legs to warm
him up.  When he was warm enough we lay there snuggling together and
talking about the day.  I was so pleased that he had really enjoyed it.

We must have been cuddling and talking quietly for well over half an hour
when Marc suddenly said; "Shhh!"  We listened and I heard one or more
whales, just on the other side of the breakwater, spouting and making whale
song.  It was very faint.  I suggested to Marc that he might hear better
from the ladder in the hatchway.  He was so excited that he forgot his
nakedness and the cold, leapt from the bunk and climbed the ladder so his
head was just outside.  He listened and called to me, "come here John, it
sounds so strange."

I got out of bed and climbed up behind him.  As we listened for a few
minutes Marc leaned back against me and I put my arms around him to warm
him.  In spite of the cool air, I got hard again feeling his soft round
buns against my groin.  Marc shivered and I suggested that we go back to
bed.  I climbed down and reached up to get Marc to come down too.  Just as
I reached for him he turned and his boner poked me in the face.  As I had
my hands on his hips to help him down, when his cock brushed my lips, my
automatic reaction was to hold him close so I could keep the contact.  My
warm breath on his erection got a moan from him.  I could smell his boyness
and before I knew it I had kissed the head of his cock.  "Oh wow!  Are you?
Will you?"  I did.  "Oh God!"

After I kissed the head of his cock and as he voiced his pleasure and
request, I let my lips slip over its head and took it inside my mouth.  I
could feel Marc shudder and hear him gasp.  He brought his hands down to my
head but then quickly brought them back up to the hatch rail to keep his
balance.  He thrust involuntarily into my mouth and moaned louder.  I was
beyond any thought of stopping now.  He tasted wonderfully sweet and salty
at the same time.  I could feel his foreskin move as I sucked up and down
the length of his cock.

Suddenly he shivered violently and took a step down.  "Uncle John.  I'm so
cold.  Can we do this in bed?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Marc," I apologized.  "I got a little carried away.  Come
down and get warm."  We climbed back in the bunk and I rubbed his arms and
back like before, trying to get him warmed up.  "Aren't those whale sounds
eerie?  I never tire of hearing them."  He was quiet and I though he was
warmed up and had dropping off to sleep.

"John?"

"Yes Marc?"

"You can do that again if you like."

"Do what? Oh, you mean ...?"

"Yeah, I liked it a lot. Would you do it some more, please? It felt really
good."  I slipped under the covers and got comfortable.  I took his boner
in my hand for the first time.  He was so hard and yet so soft.  It was
pulsing with heat.  I leaned over his hip and inhaled his aroma.  I touched
the tip of my tongue to his crown and licked the slit there.  I tongued
around his foreskin and tasted the stronger flavor of it.  His hips gyrated
around with the intense pleasure.  I opened and took him into my mouth.
His hips rose up to meet me.  I slipped a hand under him to feel and
squeeze his buns.  Slowly I began to suck him up and down, twirling my
tongue around his cock.  I tried to slip my tongue under his foreskin but
it was too tight.

He was on fire and moaning wildly, his head rolling from side to side.  I
moved my hand into his crotch and held his soft full balls.  They were so
big for a boy his age and my excitement grew.  I lifted off him and brought
my hand to my mouth letting my mouthful of saliva drain into my hand and
over my middle finger.  I returned to my sucking and he moaned louder and
gyrated under me more urgently.

With my wet and slippery finger I started to probe around his crack below
his balls.  He reflexively opened his legs to allow me better access as I
continued to heighten his arousal with my mouth.  He tasted so incredibly
sexy.  I sought his hole with my saliva slippery finger and found it.  I
circled it once, twice, three times and it drove him wild.  I was surprised
that he had not yet dissolved into a dry orgasm.

"Push it in!"  Marc groaned, "Oh please John, put your finger inside me."

I gently pushed and my finger slipped in to the first knuckle.  I felt his
muscle trying to clamp down and prevent the intrusion.  I waited and soon
it relaxed and I slid my finger in further.  This cause his spring to wind
tighter.  I sucked furiously on his hot tool and worked my finger in past
the second knuckle.  He bucked wildly and his moans were near screams.

"Ooh Gaaaawd John, I feel like I'm gonna burst, like I'm gonna pee!  You
better stop!"

With my finger inside him all the way, I twisted it around and bent it here
and there.

"Oh John, I'm gonna burst!"

Suddenly I found what I sought and massaged his prostate gently.  Marc
raised his butt nearly off the bunk and gave one final near scream and then
his cock began to throb very hard against the roof of my mouth.  With my
lower lip against the bottom side of his cock, I felt him contract
rhythmically and shoot his first shots of cum into the back of my throat.
It was thin but cum nonetheless.  I was delighted to receive his first.  He
grabbed my head and pulled it down and his still twitching hardon lodged in
the back of my throat.

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  He crooned with each throb.

He held me there for a moment and then collapsed out of breath.  I
swallowed savoring the flavor of Marc's first cum and lifted off him.

"Holy shit." He sighed still out of breath.  "Was that what I thought it
was?"

"Yes my love and it was all mine.  Your first cum and I will never forget
that special moment for as long as I live."

"Oh wow! Oh wow. That was wonderful. Thank you. Oh I love you so much."  I
moved up beside him and brushed his damp hair out of his eyes.  He reached
up to me and kissed me.  "Ummm, is that my cum I taste?"  He smiled and
hugged me.  Then he lay back.  "I'm pooped.  Now I know what you mean about
recharging."

"And," I reminded him, "over the next few months each time you cum you will
cum more."  This time I lay my head on his chest.  I could hear his heart
... I lifted my head up sharply.  Heart, I thought?  Boy, they thought of
everything.  I lay my head back down just as Marc asked with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I reassured him.  "Just an itch."

I snuggled to him for a few minutes.  "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" I asked back.

"You gave me pleasure and I don't want you to be left out."  I felt his
hand sliding tentatively down my side.  I waited to see if he stopped, as
he had before, at my waist.

"That's sweet Marc but I don't have to cum every time you do.  I get plenty
of pleasure just knowing you feel good."  He kept going but very
tentatively.  In a moment I felt the tips of his fingers touch my hard
cock.  I moved a little closer in encouragement and he wrapped his hand
around me.

With that sexy husky voice he said, "You are so big, so warm and hard and
the end is wet.  What's that?"

First I explained that he and I were about the same length but I was a
little thicker.  "The wet stuff is called pre-cum."

"What's it for?" he asked.

"Notice how slippery it is?  Ugh!"

He pulled his hand away. "Oh.  I'm sorry.  Did I hurt you?"

"No Marc.  When you rubbed the end with your thumb it felt so good it
surprised me, that's all.  I liked it."

He moved his hand back and as he started to move his thumb again he
reminded me. "What is pre-cum for?"

I tried to talk between shudders of pleasure, "Well ... Besides what you
are doing ... and masturbation ... it is to ... help penetration ... in
intercourse ... you know ... making love."

"Cool," he said clearly more intrigued with the intense pleasure that he
was giving me than the information I was giving him.

He continued to rub and caress my cock and balls as he looked at me.  He
told me how excited it made him to watch my face as he gave me pleasure.
He grew quiet for a few moments and then, very gently he shifted position
and his head disappeared under the covers.  He paused to rest his lips on
my stomach and lick my belly button.  I said breathlessly, "Marc, you don't
have to ..."

He cut me off, "I know but I want to.  This is one of the things I've
dreamed about doing for a long time.  Besides, I love you and I want to
make you feel as good as you made me feel."

Just then his head moved and I felt the tip of his tongue lick the end of
my hardon.  He stopped, savoring the taste.  "Ummm."  Was all I heard and
then he kissed the end and I felt his tongue on it again.  Then he opened
up and took me in.  His mouth was so warm and wet on me and I was so
excited that I knew I wouldn't last but a few more moments.  He was coming
at it from a near 69 position.  When I reached up and started to feel his
buns he reached under me and grabbed mine with one hand and started
fingering my hole with the other.  Then he surprised me.  In his
inexperience he pulled me deep in his throat but my surprise was that he
didn't choke.  Instead he made swallowing actions and the exquisite
feelings it generated in me brought me to the edge.

"Marc!  I'm gonna cum Marc.  Pull off."  He didn't stop.  "Oh Marc!  I'm
gonna ... aarrrggghhh!!!  Oooohhhhhh."  I arched my back and erupted down
his throat and his swallowing action was the only thing that saved him from
almost drowning.  It was like it came naturally to him.  I flopped back on
the pillow and he slowed his sucking and stopped.

He kissed the tip of my wilting cock and resurfaced above the covers with a
very happy and satisfied expression on his face.  He kissed me deeply and
said, "I loved doing that and I love you."

We cuddled again and lay there quietly listening to the lapping of the
water on the hull.  It was so peaceful.  Sleep soon over came us.

Chapter 8 - Sexual Overdrive and Man overboard!