A Quarter for a Kiss
by Winter

The glass of Peter's wrist watch caught the sun, and the reflection hit me straight in the eyes. For a second, I was blinded, but that was enough. The tennis ball hit me on the side of the head, and I cursed out loud. It hadn't been a hard toss, but it still hurt. I picked it up and threw it back as hard as I could. He stepped aside, agile like any ballet dancer, and caught it with one hand. Bouncing up and down, he waited eagerly for me to get ready, then he threw it to me again. This time, I caught it, but instead of keeping up the game, I just shook my head and sat down on the soft lawn. The kid actually did a cartwheel as he ran to join me.

"You're not giving up already, are you?" He sank down beside me. "You're still missing E-Y, Johan. I still haven't even gotten the D."

"I don't believe you can run around in this weather." I shook my head. "It's gotta be a hundred degrees in the shade."

"So stay out of the shade." He giggled as I groaned and tried to swat him. "Wanna go back inside?"

I nodded. "I want to hibernate. Go to sleep right here and now and not wake up until fall."

"That's `cause you're lazy. How come you never get used to the beautiful Californian summer?"

"This isn't summer, Petey. I don't know what kind of season this is, but summer isn't supposed to fry you alive."

"Bitching! Thank God for air conditioning, right?"

I nodded and smiled as I let him pull me to my feet. I pretended I was about to faint, so he let me lean against him as we went inside. Peter's father wasn't exceedingly rich, but wealthy enough to own a nice, big house with most of the rooms wonderfully cool this time of the year. That was one of the reasons I spent most of my summers with him, and slept over just about every night. The second reason was that we were best friends, even though he is three years younger than me. We met when my family moved into a much smaller house in the same neighborhood. Only a thin strip of forest separate our houses, so we ran into each other pretty much at once. I was eight at the time, and he was six, and we hit off immediately. Cute as a button and the gentlest soul that ever lived; I just had no means to resist Peter's charm. Even now, seven years later, he was still beautiful. Long blond hair, deep blue eyes and a round, soft face with full, red lips that were just to die for. A small, slender body without much muscle, but with an almost feline grace and perfect boyishly curved hips. The third reason for why I spent so much time with him was also the secret reason. I was, and had been almost from the second we met, hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Peter. Of course, I had to keep this a secret. No one knew about me being gay, and that was just the way I meant to keep it. Not that I was very afraid of gay-bashers, but what did scare was that I might lose my friends. Especially Peter. In school, he was always surrounded by the younger girls, and some of the older too. He swore that one of his female teachers had made a pass at him, but since he had absolutely no evidence backing this up it was easy not to believe him. He didn't have a girlfriend, and I suspected he was just playing the field. Choosing only the best of the best for himself. I had no idea what he did on the nights we didn't spend together, but he was never in if I tried to give him a surprise call or visit. So I guess he was dating. I had dated too, just a couple of times for pretense. It felt okay going out with a girl, but each time one wanted more it got awkward. Luckily, the only girls who would go out with me were the ones like me, the shy and plain ones. I never had to fight to defend my honor. Yes, I know it wasn't a very nice thing to do, letting the girl who fancied me think it was because of her nothing happened, but to me it was a defense mechanism. So I had kept up a straight façade for most of seven years, enjoying the little touches like when we walked into his house, arms around each other. He asked me if I needed him to give me a cold shower, but I declined. I tried my best to keep us from being naked together, since I was afraid I'd get hard. In fact, I was slowly stiffening, just from feeling his warmth against my body. We grabbed a Pepsi each, then headed to his room. Coming in from the horrible heat outside, the room felt almost cold. We sat down, him on the bed and me in his desk chair, and talked for a while as we slowly cooled down. My boner clamed down, too, but then he just had to pull off his shirt. The sight of Peter's thin chest, where I could almost count the ribs, made me feel bothered again. He was just too beautiful! It took all of my strength of will not to pounce him and start sucking those delicious-looking nipples. Not to mention running a hand in beneath the waistline of his cotton shorts, feeling his sparse, blonde pubic hair, and then... I mentally shrugged, pulling myself out of my fantasy before it became embarrassing. I wore only cotton shorts myself, and they would do nothing to hide a major hard-on. Thankfully, the chilly air in there helped me relax, and soon we were chatting away like we always did. Since he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, I was able to idly check him out, from top to toe, but this time it was in a less sexual way. More like the way you'd watch a beautiful painting at an art gallery. Talk was leaping from subject to subject; we had started to talk about what movies we'd like to see in the theater, then gone through a variety of themes until we ended up discussing the flower beds in his garden. Peter had always loved gardening, and as he taught I begun to get interested, too. Then he changed subject again. Maybe it was because of the heat, or maybe I had let down my defenses for a while because I felt so comfortable, but he caught me off guard, and I didn't have time to watch my tongue.

"Did you see the TV program last night?"

"Which one?" I was still unprepared for the attack. "I was mostly kind of just zapping."

"You know, the one about those Mexican boys who sold their bodies to American men."

"Yeah, I saw most of that one." It had been advertised as a `shockingly revealing documentary' with lots of hidden camera footage, but to my very secret disappointment all the naughty bits had been edited out or scrambled. Like I said, I wasn't watching my slippery tongue. "It was cool, in a way."

"What do you mean, cool?" He sat up, eyeing me carefully. I started to blush as I'd realized what I'd said. He grinned. "I don't think it was meant to be cool."

"I... I don't really mean... I mean... what they were talking about. It's just... I don't know..."

"No way, man!" He laughed. "Can't slither your way out of this one! In what way, cool?"

"Well, you know..."

"Pretend I don't."

"It was... like..." I blushed so hard it felt like my face was on fire. How the hell would I get out of it? If I'd had my thinking head with me instead of my instinct head, I should have been able to joke my way out of it, but since I'd already started to stutter, that way out was closed and barred. Peter didn't look offended or upset, so maybe I could opt for the truth way out? What tipped the scales was the fact that he suddenly shifted a little where he was sitting on the bed, and I could clearly see the bulge in his shorts. He was at least semi-erect. I decided to be honest, for once. I could always explain it away as a stray thought, albeit an embarrassing one. "Well... I don't really mean it was cool... it must've been awful for some of the kids, but... while I was watching it, I kind of thought that it would... that it would be an easy way to get some extra money."

"What?" He giggled. "By hiring out your ass?"

"I didn't say I would..."

"Would you be cruising the street corners?" He laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bed, but I could also see that he was still at least slightly aroused. "Flagging down cars?"

"It wouldn't be like... a full-time job or anything," I objected. "Just once in a while to make my allowance last."

"Holy shit, Johan!" He stopped laughing and stared into my eyes. I blushed again. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"No!" He cocked his head and grinned at me, and I knew he knew I was lying. "Yes. Well, I mean, I did kind of think about it while I was watching that program. They did pay a lot of money. But I've never done that, you've gotta believe me!"

"All right, I do believe you." He giggled. "Just fun to tease you."


"Maybe, but not a prick-for-hire." I stuck my tongue out, but when I thought he'd keep on laughing at me, his cheeks flushed a slight pink instead. "So, uhm... what would you charge?"


"If you really did... you know... sell out. Would you be expensive?"

"I never got that far in my thoughts. Why?"

"Oh, just curious." His cheeks turned a shade redder. "Trying to keep the conversation going."

"Sounds like you're interested in a business deal, Petey." I dared not breathe! He kept on blushing, and I could see that he was almost at full mast. I mentally crossed every finger I had, hoping against hope that this would be a fantasy come true. "My first customer?"

"Just curious," he mumbled, avoiding my gaze. "I was just... oh forget it."

"Well, I guess I'd charge a fortune, since I'm so sexy."

We both giggled, and Peter looked up until our eyes met. We were both blushing and we could both see that the other was hard. Somehow, that made the situation a bit less embarrassing. The hint of a smile that crept onto his lips looked really affectionate, even though that may have been my imagination making it so. Anyway, it made my heart flutter, and I made my decision to at least push him a bit.

"But since I'm just a beginner, I suppose I'd be quite cheap at first. Say, a quarter for a kiss, fifty cents for a tongue kiss. A dollar for a striptease, including free kisses." Peter laughed as I got out of the chair and did a little dance. "Two dollars for a hand job and five for a blow job. Ten for the lot."

"The lot?" He blushed again. "What does that mean?"

"Just what you think it does." I made my face a serious one and fixed his gaze. "It means everything your little heart desires. You could fuck me if you wanted to."

"Oh." He quickly looked away, looking like he'd be sick at any moment. I felt a surge of panic flow through me, and for a second I was certain I had destroyed our friendship forever. But before the tears had started to form in my eyes, he dug through his pocket and flipped me a shining coin. My heart skipped a beat as I realized I was staring at a brand new quarter. "Dare you to it!"

"A deal is a deal." I grinned as I walked over to the bed. Peter looked more nervous than I'd ever seen him before, and as I sat down next to him he tried to back away. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. "Oh no you don't!"

I saw a look of fear in his eyes, but also a look of anticipation. As if this was something he really wanted, but at the same time was terrified to have. Then I didn't see more, because I closed my eyes as I pressed my lips against his. As far as kisses go, it was awkward, but it was still the greatest moment of my life, thus far. I was kissing the boy I loved! We moved our lips against one another, but when he opened his mouth and tried to stick his tongue into mine, I leaned back and broke the kiss. I could hear a grunt of disappointment from him, and since I now knew that he wanted more, I decided to keep to the game.

"You're not trying for freebies, are you?"

"No, of course not." He was blushing furiously, but he smiled warmly as he pulled out two more coins and placed them in my hand. His voice changed into a soft whisper. "Take me to France, Johan."

"Certainly, sir."

Peter closed his eyes, and I took a moment to watch his beautiful face before I leaned in towards him, putting my arm around his shoulder. He was shivering, breathing heavily through his half-open mouth. I brushed my lips against his a couple of times, teasing him. In response, he stuck his tongue out slightly, and the next time we touched, I did the same. Our tongues met, and he jumped as if I had scared him. He let out a deep sigh as I started to kiss him as best I could. I'd never kissed anybody before, but I had seen in movies and read in stories how it worked. Maybe it was my passion for him that did the trick, because he was soon moaning into the kiss. First, my tongue was deep inside his mouth, flicking all over the place, then I retreated and it was his turn to do the exploring. His breath smelled of the soda, and his saliva was the most heavenly taste I had ever felt. Without even touching myself, I started to feel my orgasm approaching, but I wouldn't, couldn't break the kiss. I hugged him closer to me and started stroking his back while our kissing grew even more passionate. Groaning slightly, but not missing a single flick of his tongue, I came into my briefs. Wave after wave of utter pleasure swept through me, stronger than ever before, and it all focused on two points of my body; my squirting cock and my swirling tongue. Just as I passed my peak, at the height of my pleasure, Peter snapped his head back and cried out. I looked at him with concern in my eyes, while my breathing slowly returned to normal. Had I gone too far?

"Damn it man! Are you sucking on a battery or something?" He licked his lips. "That almost hurt."

"I'm sorry." I looked away from him and lowered my head. "It's just... I mean, I just..."

"So I see." He giggled, and I looked up again. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed in the front of my shorts. "How did that happen, I mean, I felt both your hands on my back?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "It just did."

"To tell you the truth, I nearly did that, too." He blushed again. "You're a damn good kisser."

"So are you." I grinned. "Well, did you get your money's worth?"

"I sure did. Wait here!" He leaped from the bed, not bothering to hide the fact that his shorts were fully tented. My mouth got dry and my briefs became one size too small once more when I realized he was raiding his room for cash. When he returned to the bed, counting the bills and coins he'd found, I was almost ready to shoot off again. He sat down, but soon a look of frustration crept into his face. "Damn it, I've only got four bucks! Not even enough for a... for the blow job offer."

"Oh, what a pity," I quipped. "Maybe we can try again when you've had your allowance."


He stared into my eyes, gritting his teeth with what looked like a combination of randiness and anger. A single tear ran down his cheek, and I realized I couldn't tease him any longer. I stroked the tear away with my finger, then smiled warmly at him.

"Lucky you I've got a discount. That ten-dollar deal? 60% off, today only. Take it or leave it."

He ran the math through his head a couple of times, it seemed, before he could really believe what I'd said. Then he tossed his money into my lap and wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me furiously. The sheer violence of the hug pushed me back until I was lying on his bed, on my back. He got on top of me and started to kiss all over my face and my neck. This attack lasted for several minutes, then he backed away just far enough so we could look into each other's eyes. He was grinning widely.

"Does this mean... does it mean..."

"Everything your little heart desires." I kissed his nose, making him giggle. "I said it, and I mean it. Whatever you want, for as long as you want."

"Would you... I mean... would you do me, too?" He grinned nervously. "If my little heart desires it?"

"I don't know," I said, taking his hand and stroking it. "I'm a bit afraid to hurt you, but we could at least try."

"Yeah! We've already done the kissing, so I guess it's time for the striptease. Get to it!"

"Well..." I blushed. "I really need to go and clean up first."

"Don't bother. My little heart desires that we'll both get very messy before the day is up. Come on, I wanna see you naked!"


"Wait!" I had started to get up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "I've got to tell you this before we go any further, in case you won't like it. I... I love you, Johan. I'm not just saying this because we'll have sex, but I've been in love with you for a long time."

"I love you, too." I stroked his hair, then kissed his cheeks as new tears started to roll down them. "This is like a dream come true to me. I fell in love with you the day we met."

"Me too!" He kissed my cheek, wiping off my own tears. "I wish I could've known. I wish we could've realized this sooner..."

"I was too scared. I'd rather have you as a friend than not at all."

"Me too. It's just... It feels like we've missed out on seven years! It's not fair!"

"Well, we can't change that." I smiled. "Maybe it'll be even better now that we've grown up. I love you no less just because I've been doing it for a long time."

"I guess so..." He sniffled once, then broke into a grin. "So, how about that striptease?"

"You got it!"


To my surprise, Peter got up, too, but while I walked to the middle of the room he dashed over to his stereo and turned on some soft pop music. He flicked on his bedside lamp and aimed it at me, then grinned as he held up his digital camera. I started to object, but he just smiled. So I decided to trust him, not really entirely sure I wasn't making the mistake of a lifetime. I took a couple of dance steps to get in time with the music, then I started to dance. I had never told him that we were taught choreography in my drama class last semester, when we put up a dance show, so he didn't know I could dance. His eyes widen as I deliberately made my movements as flowing and erotic as I could. At this time, I wasn't embarrassed about my wet shorts any more, and as I got into the dance I shut out the clicks of his camera, too. I closed my eyes and pulled the hem of my shirt out of my waistband, running my hands underneath it and exposing my flat, hairless stomach as I did. Only three things existed in the world for me right then; the music, my dance and Peter. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was there, and that he was watching. And I knew he loved me. I danced for him. After a couple of minutes' dancing, I put both my arms inside my shirt, one hand cupping each nipple, then I stretched my arms out towards the sides, sliding the shirt ever higher. Even over the music, I heard Peter gasp as this slow, almost liquid movement continued until my entire chest was bared. When my hands were above my head, I grabbed the shirt and pulled it off of me, flicking it across the room to where I knew his laundry basket would be. The slight applause told me I had made a score. I stroked and caressed my upper body, feeling my nipples stiffen in the chilly air. I pinched them and moaned at the touch, then crouched low and turned so my back was against Peter. Wrapping my arms around myself, I made it look like someone was hugging me, and I groaned and sighed as I stood back up again. The music stopped, and another more up-beat song came on. I immediately started dancing faster, turning around again. It was a latino-like song, a hot beat that made me want to spice things up a bit. So I ran a hand down the front of my shorts, rubbing my stiff erection while my hand got all wet with my own semen. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pulled the hand back up, leaving a slimy trail past my navel and up my chest. Then I licked each finger clean. I could swear I heard some subdued mumbling from Peter, but it might have been something in the song. Still rocking my hips, I finished cleaning my fingers, as if I'd just had spareribs. Then I stopped moving, and yanked my shorts down. This time I did hear a gasp from the bed. I knew my shorts were tented out badly, and since I wore white ones I also knew the wet spot would be all but totally see-through. This time, I set my hands free to roam all over my hips, my crotch and my ass, pushing and pulling on the fabric of my briefs. Then I bent over and started to take off my shoes, spinning slowly so he'd get to see all of me. The socks were next, then I stepped out of my shorts. When the next song came on, a slow ballad, I lifted the waistband of my briefs just enough so the head of my cock could peer out. Another gasp, and I couldn't help grinning. Before my mind's eye, I could almost see the look of horny impatience in Peter's beautiful face as I slowly set the whole thing free. I pulled the foreskin back and swiped up some left-over cum, putting it into my mouth. Then I took the briefs completely off, and for the first time in years, I was naked in front of Peter. Not really knowing whether to end it all or keep going, I cupped my balls and rolled them around in my hand. What the hell, I decided. He did pay for it. So I danced naked while I kept on caressing my aching boner. I turned around and bent down to touch my toes, making sure he got a good view of what I had to offer. Slipping one hand behind me, I started running a finger up and down my crack, playing with my anus. Then the music stopped, and no new song came on. I stood up and bowed, opening my eyes for the first time since I had started dancing. Peter applauded wildly. His face was flushed a deep red, and he seemed to be out of breath. I returned to the bed and sat down, letting him give me a tight hug and a kiss.

"Damn it, man! That was awesome!"

"Did you like it?"

"Like it!? Johan, I came twice. I had no idea you could be so sexy."

"You came?"

"Twice. First when you licked your fingers, then again when you started playing with your hole. If I'd known the CD was about to end, I would've tried to save it."

"Shouldn't have jerked off then, silly." I kissed his lips and felt him blush even deeper.

"I wasn't, damn you, I came anyway."

"Oh." I laughed. "So you don't want the hand job right away, then?"

"No..." He giggled. "But I wouldn't mind a shower. My pants are a mess."

"Your wish is my command." I bowed deeply and took his hand, leading him towards the bathroom. "It will be my pleasure to bathe thee, sire."

"Stupid." He giggled again. "I bet it'll be your pleasure to see me naked."

"That, too."

"Damn, you're hot!" He slipped behind me and ran his fingers down my chest until he held my erection in both hands. "Johan, you didn't come."

"Don't fret, I'm sure I will."

Even though I was enjoying the way he was stroking me, and the way he was rubbing his squishy shorts against my naked backside, I turned around in his embrace so we could kiss again. I pulled down his shorts and briefs, letting them fall so he could step out of them. He was naked too, now, and I felt his still hard cock push at my sac. He reached out and turned on the shower, and once it got warm enough we slipped in, still not breaking the kiss. It was beginning to get to my head, and I felt my knees start to get weak. Just holding the boy I had loved for so long, just kissing his lovely lips, had me so close to orgasm. In the end, curiosity won and I broke the kiss, pushing him back. He blushed so deep even his shoulders turned red, and suddenly he seemed shy. I drank in his nakedness; his smooth chest, long slender legs, the thin blonde patch of hair around the root of his cock. Maybe said cock was the reason for his fidgety. It was rock hard, but a lot smaller than mine, maybe three inches to my five, and a lot thinner, too. A drop of semen hung from the tip of his foreskin, and I swiftly sank to my knees and kissed it away. He gasped, then began to moan as I pulled the skin back, slowly licking him clean. The taste was different from my own cum, which I tasted as often as I could. It was sweeter, not as salty. It was surely a taste of heaven. Before I had decided he was clean enough, he grabbed my hair and started pushing into my mouth. I let him, running my hands all over him while he fucked my face. It didn't take him long to reach a howling orgasm, and I felt fresh spurts off his warm, delicious semen shoot into me. I kept it in my mouth, savoring it, saving the moment to memory for the rest of my life. Then I stood up, and made sure he could see it when I finally swallowed.


"Wanna get clean now?"

"Yeah... but I... I can hardly stand on my own."

"Don't worry. Grab on to me."

He did, once more wrapping his arms around me. Soaping up, we started washing each other's backsides. Foam was everywhere, and it was such a sexy thing. He stayed at my buttocks for a long time, teasing my hole occasionally with his fingers. Then suddenly he pushed in, burying his index finger to the hilt inside me. I gasped, then started coughing as I swallowed water. He patted my back until I had clamed down, but he never let up his fingering of my insides. I felt him rub against my prostate, the first time anybody but myself had ever even touched me down there since my dad stopped washing me. I returned the favor with fervor, and we were soon moaning and humping against each other. Amazingly, he was hard again, and he giggled when I pointed that out.

"My wettest ever dream has come true." He kissed me again. "It would be a miracle if I wasn't hard. I love you, Johan."

"Love you too, Peter. Let's get washed up, now. I think we need to grab a bite before we... do anything else."

"I thought you just ate." He laughed as it was my turn to blush. "There's some left-over chicken in the fridge, that ought to keep us going until you make us dinner."

"Until I make us dinner?"

"Sure. You did say you'd do anything I wanted, right?" He laughed at my puzzled look. He knew damn well I couldn't cook worth a penny. "Just pulling your leg. You should know by now not to take me seriously all the time."

"If you don't watch your tongue I'll take you seriously, all right. So seriously you won't sit for a week." His jaws fell open and he blushed, and it was my turn to giggle. "Gotcha back!"

Our washing-up quickly degenerated into a wrestling game and a cock-pulling fight. By the time we had rinsed off and wrapped ourselves with towels, we were both hard as rocks, dribbling pre-cum. Peter unabashedly dropped his towel and headed for the stairs, but I lingered.

"When will you dad be home? I don't wanna get caught naked with a stiffie."

"Don't worry. He's gonna be late today. Business meeting, you know."

"Yeah, I guess. My dad knows I might be spending the night, so it's no trouble if I stay here to cook for you."

"Like I'd eat anything you've cooked! I'd rather die and probably would." He giggled as I frowned at him. "C'mon, man, you'd burn tea water and we both know it."


"Right here!" He wagged his hips to make his erection swing back and forth. It was such a sexy sight I had to reach out and grasp it. "Hey! Oww, don't pull it off!"

"I don't see why not." I giggled. "It might be good to have it and play with, without having the rest of you there to be mean at me."

"I'm sorry. Honestly." He moved closer so we could hug each other again. "Let me show you how sorry I am."

It was time for another deep tongue kiss. I felt that I'd never, ever grow tired of them, and to be frank, I also thought I was beginning to develop an addiction. We broke apart before any one of us got too close to dropping our loads, and instead we raided the fridge, soon returning to Peter's room laden with chicken sandwiches, chips and sodas. He built a pile of sheets and pillows and blankets on the floor, while I strolled over to his video shelf to select us a movie to watch. I settled for The Princess Bride, a favorite to both of us, and soon we were snuggled up close to each other in the blanket pile, cuddling to get away from the chilly air of the room while we fed each other morsels. There was a lot of giggling and laughing, both from the movie and from each other, as it seemed we could barely keep our hands off each other. It was especially hazardous to take a sip of soda, since that often meant a poke in the ribs or a pinched nut or a finger against the hole. The carpet would definitely need washing. Once the video was rewinding and we had cleared away the remains of our meal, we lay down on the blankets again. I took the opportunity as Peter got up to put back the video, to check him out thoroughly once more.

"You know, this is the first time in years I've seen you naked and soft."

"Really?" He blushed. "Why did we stop skinny-dipping?"

"Well, for my part, it was so I'd not get caught with a boner. I got hard just by thinking of your body. Still do."

"So I see." He pointed and giggled. "I thought you were mad at me. Or embarrassed because I have such a tiny dick."

"Your dick isn't tiny, Peter. It's about the same size mine was when I was your age."

"Maybe, but it's still embarrassing." Tears had started to well up in his eyes. "I wish I could be as beautiful as you are. And before you start saying I'm cute, that's not enough! Boys are cute, I wanna grow up."

"None of this would matter to me, Peter, if it didn't make you so unhappy. I think you're beautiful. Why do you think I've been hard almost constantly for the last couple of hours?"

"Because you love me. I'm not beautiful, I'm cute."

"Don't pout, please! Yes, you're cute, and yes, you are beautiful. And yes, I do love you. Your cock is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Let me prove it to you."

I turned him over so he was lying on his back, then I slowly started to stroke him, pulling the skin back and forth. It was true, his cock was definitely sexier than anything else, and just by touching it I gave myself immense pleasure as well. He seemed to sense this, because suddenly he flashed me a huge grin. We moved over to we could both touch each other, and now I realized how badly I needed my release. Every now and then, I felt his tongue flick across the tip of my penis, and each time I returned the gesture. This turned into a game; he would do something and I would follow. It ended as we lay on our sides, sucking each other while we were fingering each other's holes. Not surprisingly, I was first to reach my peak, and I pulled off of him just long enough to warn him. He took his mouth away and started stroking me, while I attacked his stiffie with my mouth again, moaning around it as I started to come. He gasped and bucked as I shoot my seed all over his face and chest, and before I was finished, I felt his mouth return. He swallowed the last of my cum, then started shooting, himself. As before, I let him finish before I started to gulp it down. There wasn't much left in him, just a thin dribble, but if still tasted ever so good. He rolled off of me and lay there panting as I turned around and kissed him. He moaned as he tasted some of his own cum, clearly liking it. I licked him clean, occasionally sharing some with him. When that was done, we slowly drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.


The phone woke me up. I yawned and groaned at the intrusive signal, which kept on blaring at me. As soon as I moved, I felt the wetness on my stomach and sure enough, I'd had a wet dream. The impact of it all took a few seconds to hit me, but then it left a huge, ice cold lump where my heart had just beat its last. It had all been a dream. Peter didn't love me, and we hadn't spent those hours loving each other. I felt like crying, but nothing seemed to work inside me. He was lying on his side next to me, breathing softly as if nothing had happened. Which it hadn't. I tried to bring forth my tears, but they were nowhere to be found. True, I had dreamed about him loads of times, but never as vivid as now. There was no trace of the pile of blankets I had thought I'd gone to sleep on. It was almost dark outside, and Peter's clock radio showed half past eleven. Then I realized that his dad wasn't home yet, and that it was probably him calling. Without waking him up, I went to answer the phone in the hall. Still feeling numb, I picked up the receiver.

"Carter residence."

"Johan?" I immediately recognized Peter's dad's voice. "Is Peter there?"

"Still asleep," I muttered.

"Okay." He laughed. "Sounds like I woke you up."


"Listen, Johan, the meeting got a lot longer than I had liked, so it'll still be a good while before I'm home. I'm sorry I couldn't get to the phone earlier."

"It's okay."

"Are you all right? You don't sound too hot."

"Well, I think I had a bad dream just before the phone rang. I'm still not all awake."

"Okay. Since you're over there, I might stop by your dad's and see if he's up for a late night beer. Don't worry if we're not home by dawn."

"'kay. We won't."

"Good on you. Bye."

"Good bye, Mr Carter."

The light was on in Peter's bedroom when I turned around, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Here I was, naked and with my belly soaked with cum. I worried that he might freak out, but then decided he would probably be too tired to notice. He was never much of a morning boy, and it always took him a long time to wake up after he'd slept. He was lying on his back, the comforter pulled low so I could almost see his blonde bush. At least, it had been blonde in my dream.

"Was that dad?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "He's just leaving work, and then he'll go out drinking with my dad."

"Wanna get out the ol' video camera in case they get drunk?"

"No, don't bother. Dad never gets drunk in the middle of the week, even though he's working from home over the summer. They're just gonna have a couple of beers."

"No fair," Peter suddenly said as I was getting back beneath the comforter. He giggled. "You've been having fun without me!"

"What?" I felt myself blush. "What are you talking about."

"Why did you come in your sleep instead of sharing it with me?" He cuddled up to me and kissed my cheek, and my heart almost stopped beating. It hadn't been a dream? It hadn't been a dream. It hadn't been a dream! "You aren't mad because I didn't swallow it, are you?"

"No, of course not." I kissed him back, making sure to pinch myself. It did hurt. "That's all up to you, love. It's just..."

"What? Johan, you look terrified! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all!" I hugged him to me as I started crying. "It's just... for a while there, I thought it had all been a dream. That you... that you didn't love me..."

"But I do!" He held me and let me cry on his shoulder, patting my back. "Don't cry, Johan, I hate it when you're upset. I'm here, and it's not a dream and I love you."

"Love you too." I sniffled, then tried a smile. "But we fell asleep on the floor..."

"Yeah, but I needed to pee, and when I got back I carried you to bed and tucked you in." He leaned in to kiss me again. "You were so cute I had no heart to wake you up."

"Oh. Thanks."

"So..." He pushed me back and got a tissue to wipe my face with. Then he wiped my belly, too, making me giggle. "With our dads gone partying, can we get it on again? I really wanna suck you and swallow it."

"Whatever your little heart desires." We both giggled. "But don't push yourself too much."

"I won't. I can't. Johan, there's nothing you could possibly want to do that I wouldn't want, too."

"You mean it? Will you let me pee in your mouth, then?"

"Urgh!" He made a sour face. "Maybe not nothing, but nearly nothing. But..."

"But what? Changed your mind?"

"Noo!" I laughed at a repeat of the sour face. "But I wonder... did you mean it when you said I could fuck you? I'd really... I'd really wanna do it."

"Then let's do it."


Before we even started any funny business, we took another long shower, this time only to clean up, though. Then Peter's growling belly announced that we had missed dinner by hours, so we went back downstairs for another snack. Peter set the table for us while I heated a couple of microwave pizzas. He even lit some candles, making it kind of a romantic late night dinner. I was a bit anxious that our dads would come in through the kitchen door, but at the same time, I knew they were often out until very late when they went out together. Peter and I sat down next to each other so we could touch often, and keep stealing pizza from each other. As it turned out, it was more giggling and groping than actual romance, but it felt great anyway. When we cleared away the dishes, I noticed that he was at full mast.

"Eager, aren't you?"

"Eager and nervous. If I hadn't paid in advance, I might not be able to go through with this."

"Hey, don't push yourself if you're not ready. I'll let you keep a raincheck."

"No, I really wanna do it, tonight, but I'm still nervous."


"You know why..."

"No, I don't. Is it because you've never done it before?"


"Come on, you can tell me!" We started to walk back up the stairs. "I'm your best friend, and I love you, you can tell me anything."

"What if it's no good?"

"Then we try again some other time. No big deal."

"You're so cool about all this." He reached for my hand and I held his as we entered his bedroom. "Aren't you afraid...?"

"Afraid it'll hurt? Maybe. But I want it anyway. I know the hurt goes away after a while."

"You've done it before?" His eyes went wide as saucers. "With who?"

"With my own fingers, silly." I giggled as he blushed. "I've never even looked at another boy."

"So... are we gay then?"

"I know I am." I kissed him. "Otherwise I wouldn't be in love with such a fantastic guy."

"I guess that's true. I never thought about being gay before. I just knew I loved you."

"Does it bother you?"

"No, what bothers me is my... my little dick! What if I'm not enough to... to satisfy you?"

"Well, you're thicker than my fingers, and they felt really good." I pushed him down on the bed and lay on top of him, looking deep into his eyes. "Listen, it's gonna be fine, you hear? From what I've read, not many guys come just by getting fucked."

"They don't?"

"No. Which means you're gonna have to jerk me off while we're doing it. That way we'll both come."

"Wow." He grinned. "All right! I've got some lube in the top drawer. Do we need a condom?"

"Not unless you want one. I've never had sex other than with my hands."

"Me neither. Wow. I can't believe we're really going to do it."

"You've got stars in your eyes, Peter."

"I do?"

"Yeah, really! They're glimmering just like stars."

"Wow. You know, that's what they always say, you know, in those mushy romantic stories. Star-crossed love. I didn't know it could really happen."

"Well, it's true. Kiss me!"

We lay kissing and cuddling for a little while, getting truly worked up. By now, we were both hard as rocks. I rolled over so Peter got on top of me, then I broke the kiss. He knew it was time, so he turned over until we were in a sixty-nine position. I squirted some lube on my fingers and started working it into his cock, making sure to pull the skin back and lube up the head as well. In the meantime, I felt hot breath on my crotch, and to my surprise, he started licking my balls, slowly working his way further down. When he was lubed up, he moved down between my legs and continued to lick me. His hot tongue reached my hole and started working its way around it, the feeling so intense I nearly blacked out. I knew I was as clean as I'd ever get from our shower, but I still blushed deeply. It was such an intimate moment. Then he was gone, only to return a second later with a fingertip full of lube. I gasped at the sudden chill of it, then moaned as he worked his way inside me, smearing me up for his entrance. I let him keep it up for as long as I could, which was just a matter of seconds, then I reached down and pulled his finger out. I could hear that my voice was hoarse, my breathing ragged.

"Do it. Please, fuck me!"

He nodded, stars still in his eyes, then moved into position. He grabbed a pillow and put it under my rump so he could reach my hole better, then I felt the tip of his erection against me. He rubbed it up and down a couple of times, then started pushing it in. It was a great feeling as he pushed against my ring of muscles, but as it penetrated, I couldn't withhold a hiss of pain. He got a worried look in his eyes, but I just signed at him to go slow. He did. Millimeter by millimeter, he made his way into me, and even though it still hurt a bit it started to feel good as well. The head of his cock reached my prostate, and this time the hiss was a gasp of pleasure. My own cock was as hard as it had ever been, and I guess this reassured Peter, because then he pushed all the way inside. I felt his bush tickling my buttocks as he moved around in there, gyrating his hips so he could touch every square inch of my insides. Then he pulled back out, and at the same time he took a hold of me and started jerking me off. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so we could kiss. He started pushing in again, building up a nice and slow rhythm with both his cock and his hand on my cock. I immediately forgot everything else in the world. The sensations coming from my lower body, combined with the kissing, sent me sky-rocketing. I moaned, gasped and groaned, rubbing my hands and fingers all over his back, neck, head and face. The very fact that my beloved boy had his steel-hard penis inside me, was fucking me, brought my orgasm on faster than I would have liked. I broke our kiss and cried out as I started squirting my seed between us, coating both our bellies and making him slide against me as he brought up speed.

"I'm right with you," he groaned through clenched teeth. "Almost there..."

He shoved his cock hard into me once, twice more, then on the third thrust, he came. I felt his liquid fire entering me in spurts while he buried his face in the nape of my neck, sobbing and crying as he had his peak. I kept on stroking him, whispering sweet little bits of nonsense into his ear while he slowly recovered. We kissed again, and I felt him twitch inside me.

"Ready to go again, love?"

"Damn, I love it when you call me that!" He giggled. "Yeah, I think I'm ready. With a guy as hot as you, I don't think I'll ever go soft again."

"Good. Then we could stay this way until we're old and gray."

"No way! You're gonna fuck me before the night is over!"

"If your little heart desires it."

We both giggled as Peter started to move again, this time with more confidence and more speed from the start. Before long, he was fucking me so hard and so fast I thought the bed would fall apart. We both lasted longer this time, but it still wasn't long before I started to come again, added to the lubrication between us. To my amazement, Peter hadn't even touched me. Maybe the book I had read was wrong, because I had my orgasm just from him body pressing against me and from his fucking me. He was right with me this time, too, and like last time he started crying as he came. This time, he didn't stop, but kept sobbing against me as we slowly drifted back to sleep. Just before I drowsed off, I felt his cock slip out of me, and I found that I didn't like the emptiness that followed. I felt like I could have him in there forever and still not get enough.


When I woke up again the sun was shining and birds were singing outside the window, and somehow it felt like it was all for me. Like I was the center of the universe and the most important person who ever lived. I guess I felt like that because I woke up with the boy of my dreams in my arms. He lay there breathing softly, his head on my chest rising and falling with my own breath. I brushed the blonde tufts out of his forehead and kissed it, then started caressing him. Part of him woke up immediately, rising up to push against my balls and my still-wet hole. I spread my thighs and put my legs around his hip, guiding him right. Still asleep, he started to buck and thrust, soon finding his way into me. I rocked my hips in rhythm with him, kissing his face and playing with his own hole as he slowly took me again. After a little while he woke up, and after a little while of disorientation, he broke into a huge grin. Moving up my body, he reached just far enough so our lips could meet, and while we kissed he made love to me. Last night we had been fucking, having sex, but this was different. The desperate need was gone, and in its stead was something warm and tender, something wonderful. Making love. After what seemed like half of forever, Peter broke the kiss and watched me with those starry eyes, then he buried his face at my collar bone and began to sob quietly in his now-familiar way. I started stroking myself, needing very little persuasion to go over the edge. As I shot my seed between us, Peter cried out and I felt him emptying himself inside me. This time he pulled out while he was still squirting his juice, and mixed it with my own. Then he proceeded to clean me off with his tongue.


After a quick shower, we put on some clothes and headed downstairs, filling a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice each, then settling down to watch some TV. There was very little on except for reruns and news, but we weren't really interested. Peter had other things on his mind.



"What do you think about coming out? I mean, if we're gonna be a couple... We are, aren't we?"

"Of course we are! As for coming out... I don't know. I think it would be quite okay at school. But I don't know about my dad. He's a big macho-man about everything. So's yours, by the way."

"Well, that's no problem." I raised an eyebrow, Mr Spock-style, almost making him spill his drink. "My dad already knows. About me being in love with you, I mean. He says I've just got a crush on you, but if it turns serious he'll support me anyway. I believe him."

"All right. So I guess we could tell him it's turned serious, at least. Better not tell him what we did last night, though, at least not right away."

"Maybe you're right. So what about at school?"

"How about this; we tell your dad, then we wait and see what happens for a while. Maybe people will know just taking a look at us. Or if we can't keep off each other in school." He giggled. "But I'm not telling dad until I know for sure he won't kill me."

"Get real! He'd never hurt you!" He shut off the TV. "No way!"

"I don't know. I guess so. I just wish I knew what he thinks about gay people."

"Ask him."

"Russian Roulette."

"No, ask him, but don't tell him it's you. Tell him some kid came out in school and see if he blows his top."

"Maybe. Do you think they're home yet?"

"What time is it?" I shrugged, then checked the clock on the VCR. "Seven-thirty. He'll be up soon, even though he's working from home."

"I'd better go and shake life into my dad," Peter said, getting up from the couch. "He'll be off for work in an hour. Will you clear away our stuff?"


I picked up the empty plates and glasses and put them in the kitchen sink, then I got myself another glass of juice before I started to clean it all up. My thoughts were on the events of this morning and last night, and a smile spread across my lips. I had a boyfriend! A lover! I knew I'd have to tell dad, and deep within I felt certain it'd be all right. It would have to be, because I was in love and nothing would ever drag me down. I was just wiping my hands when Peter stormed into the kitchen, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me towards the stairs. At first, I thought something was badly wrong, but he grin told me otherwise. I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell was going on, but he hushed me and dragged my upstairs. His dad's bedroom door was slightly ajar, and he signaled to me to keep quiet as we sneaked up to it. He peered inside, then turned to me, still grinning, and stood aside for me to have a look. I felt my breath catch in my chest. It was the last sight I had ever thought I'd see! Mr Carter was lying on his side, completely naked, and was snoring softly. In his arms, cuddling up to him and sleeping softly, was my dad! There was no mistaking it, that was not just a friendly embrace. I caught a whiff of sweat from the room, and something else. The same smell I had woken up to that morning. The smell of sex. I staggered backwards, clutching my head. My dad and Peter's dad!? If not for the evidence of my own eyes, I would never have believed it. Ever! Peter grabbed me again and pulled me down the hall towards his room, but stopping before we got there. As he turned to face me, he was all grin.

"So, you still think your dad might be a homophobe?"

"I guess not. You don't think it's just the beer, then? A one-time thing?"

"Get a grip, lover-boy! They look like they've been sleeping like that since forever! I don't think we're in trouble any more. Not ever any more."

"Wow. My dad...?" I shook my head. "I would never have thought..."

"It's gonna be fine now, right?"

"Right, Peter. Everything's gonna be fine."

"So..." He giggled. "Tickle attack?"

"Yeah." I grinned back at him. "Tickle attack."

We paused at the door for a little while, watching our sleeping fathers. Peter was right; that was no casual snuggle, that was for real. As we watched, my dad stirred a little, and Peter's dad pulled him closer to himself, kissing his forehead. Peter and I looked at each other, both on the verge of breaking into giggles. We kissed briefly, then eased the door open. Screaming at the top of our lungs, we launched our attack.

This began as a vague idea, starting with just the title. Then it sort of fleshed out into the story you've just read, or are about to read. This story is pure fiction, names and places and situations coincidental and all that. No boys were harmed during the production of this story. :)

It's a short story, so there won't be any sequels. Still, thoughts and comments would be nice, I mean, if you've taken your time to read this far... My e-mail address is winterimage@hotmail.com