A Match 2

This story is original, based on true events, and contains mutual sexual situations between boys entering adolescence. This story is copyrighted and cannot be republished in any form without express written consent from the author, � Jake Caught. Please know you are reading this story at your own risk, and that � Jake Caught is held forever and completely harmless should any legal action be taken against you.

I would love to hear from you. Send Me An Email: jakecaught@yahoo.com .

Please Support Nifty for more great stories: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

A Match - Part Two

Emerging from the creek, John and I clean, smiling, anticipating what was to come next sat down in the spring grass hidden in the blackberry thicket. John was a boy that I could never take my eyes off of whether he was clothed or not. Now here he was fully naked, aroused, and equally willing, wanting to explore me. John's penis was very different from mine, and even though I was proud of the appearance of my own boyhood, John's was a sight of awe to me. His young cock, dick, penis...I was in a trance not even knowing what word to form in my mind to describe and experience this thick boyness...bobbing, throbbing, awaiting my attention.

As the sun dried our smooth, tanned bodies John did something that totally shocked and delighted me. He leaned into me and kissed my lips. Not a peck on the mouth, but a true kiss...a kiss that expressed so much. I kissed back...two boys sharing an intense moment of intimacy...I could feel and hear the exhales of John's breath coming from his nostrils. I could taste his smell...the combined sweetness of his breath and the wetness of his mouth as we kissed. Our tongues licked at the other's lips, each entering the other's virgin mouth exploring, tasting, feeling, seeking. After all the words of pain, anguish, and shock that had been uttered just moments earlier...now, there was just silence.

Our kissing became a sexual experience all of its own. At one point I was actually sucking John's tongue, trying to swallow his taste and smell. John's hands were like him...firm, compact, strong...and his hands found more and more places on my body that responded with almost a sigh off relief. Wherever he kneaded, massaged, or rubbed me I felt absolute comfort, sheer physical bliss at his touch. At the same time my fingers traced John's neck, his spine, around to his aroused nipples and down to his belly button, any part of his body that was firm and eager to be touched.

A feature of John's body that had always fascinated me the few times we played with our shirts off was a strange scar he had right at his tan line. I often had him tell me over and over again the story of how he fell on a stick he had sharpened to make an arrow out of. Typical boy activity...pocket knife and a stick...yet, John had somehow managed to stab himself while playing with his sharpened arrow...the result being a scar that was more like a weathered blister than the result of a cut into his skin. As I explored his boy terrain with my fingers, the tip of my index finger found that scar...and once discovered by the sense of touch my finger was not going to leave that spot...ever. To this day I will never understand the eroticism that came with that scar...I don't like pain, don't like getting hurt, not into others experiencing hurt...but this scar was like a magnet drawing my fingertip to it.

The thought of doing something more to John's body than just staring at it never crossed my mind. At least not until the unknown attraction of his scar suddenly became an oral fixation...I had to lick it, suck it, explore that raised scar tissue with my mouth. How bizarre it must have been to John as I stopped kissing his lips and moved my head down to kiss that blemish on his otherwise perfect skin. Gentle, light caresses with my lips...a hesitant yet definite exploration of it with the tip of my tongue. Even more than the taste of John's mouth...this scar was John...his smell, his taste, his touch, his all boy being. My mouth made love to that scar, a frenzy of activity with my lips and tongue over took me...John began to writhe around in pure ecstasy.

With a mind of my own, my tongue acting as my guide, I began to fully explore John's body. He lay back as my tongue darted down from his scar to the cool dampness below his balls and towards the heat of his yet to be touched boy hole. How I did what I did, why I did what I did...none of that mattered...I just had to bury myself fully into the sensual experience of John. His body called to me, directed me, encouraged me to do things I didn't even think to do...just did. John arched up on his heels, his legs spread wide as I begin to bathe his tight smooth opening to his most private entrance...his taste, his smell now fueling my explorations even further, even deeper. From his virgin asshole my tongue moved back to his young, but full ball sack...two delicious marbles in my mouth. His young, ready to burst penis was warm against my face as I sucked his balls into my mouth...the heat coming from his boyhood was intoxicating and so inviting.

As I began to move upwards to reach the pinnacle of his sexual state of arousal John stopped me. Not with words, but simply he pulled me into a tight embrace...just as we had started. No kissing, no exploring with hands or mouths...just two boys, two lovers, two explorers of mutual desire and emotion hugging and sharing an unspoken, undefined, amazing feeling of oneness.

This moment of sexual expression was nearing it climax as our bodies became one. We were both by now dripping with sweat, our bodies both smooth and slippery...our bodies acting with no direction, no intent, no determined outcome. As thick as John's penis was, mine was long and thin, and now our strong erections came into mutual contact and began their own dance. The more we embraced, mouths wide open in pure lust, our hands pulling each other closer and tighter, our young boy cocks began a deliberate thrusting against the other. The sparse curly hairs that crowned John's penis provided even more sensual pleasure to the tip of my sensitive cock head. The thickness of his surrounded mine in increasing heat and moisture...sexual nature took over as we made love to each other.

The only distraction I could sense during this frenzied flurry of sex and love was the increasing tightness I felt in my young balls...and this thought lasted only a minute as I felt the blissful warmth of John's young sperm splashing against my firm stomach. The added lubrication to the dance of our penises provided a whole new level of sexual intoxication as I sped up my thrusting, and soon felt the mind blinding experience of my first cum with another. My penis erupted cum, blast after blast of what to us seemed like so much, but in reality was the small combined amount of sperm and semen that two nearly teenaged boys could produce.

Continuing to grind our groins in the other's, now becoming slippery with our mutual emissions, I became aware of the deafening sounds of our breathing. Swallowing hard, trying to re-focus my eyes, pushing back a bit from John I examined his shining body...looking down at my own glistening body. Our sperm was clinging to our cock hairs, our young boners slowly, very slowly starting to subside...our mouths agape now turning into blissful smiles of knowing. This time I initiated the kiss, not kissing, just a kiss of love and completion. With that kiss I had to explore the fruits of our labor, I took John's sperm slick penis in my hand and experiencing my first touch of my cum, his cum...a boyhood other than my own decorated with our efforts.

John always had the ability to come up with the most accurate, most hysterical comments at the perfect moment. This was one of those times as he exhaled, "Holy fucking shit, that was good....next time, bend over honey, I'm driving!" I knew only to start laughing at this most absurd, but inviting response to what had just occurred. John always was a boy of awe, invitation, adventure...a friend who became more than a friend that day on the banks of our little creek that flowed though our small town. The thought dawned on me that day that I, too, was becoming a boy with a mutual desire to explore new territory, new adventures...as long as it was with another boy.

Author's Note: Recalling such memories is a sensual experience all on its own. It is fun to have the ability as an adult to re-create the events of that summer afternoon with vocabulary that was not available at the time to my 12 year old mind. More stories to come? Suffice it to say, this was not my only experience with John, and he was not the only friend during my adolescence that I explored with. I trust and hope you enjoyed similar experiences growing up, and that my story has helped you to re-live your own version of "A Match."