The story that follows contains descriptions of sexual acts between MINOR boys. Please do not read any further if one or more of the following facts are true to you:
By reading the following story you accept the following facts:
You have been warned!
ABOUT THE STORY:
The story that follows is vaguely based on the author's childhood sexual experiences and fantasies; the story is purely fictional and has no relation with real-life facts or persons.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Please take in count, that the author is not a native English speaker, does not speak English fluently and has learned what ever he knows so far, all by him self, only through the use of Internet with on-line chats and conversations. Please bare the small mistakes you might spot in the story but if you think some are too serious to be ignored, feel free to e-mail him and explain why it is wrong and how to correct them in future versions.
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Table of Contents:
I had the ball right between my crawling hands and was swimming with speed towards the opposite goal, knowing that we had only few seconds left before the end of the game. Most opponents were out of range and I felt almost sure about the transpiring outcome, when all of sudden, I felt my Speedos slipping off my body. I look behind of my shoulder and saw that Tom, the leader of the opposite team, was grabbing my swimming suit with his stretched right hand, beaming with joy for his achievement, looking straight to my now bare naked butt.
The referee, who saw the whole scene, whistled while pointing at Tom and giving a penalty. I glanced at the scoreboard while drawing up my Speedos, which had been now released from Tom's hand, and saw that only three seconds were left. If Tom hadn't stopped me, there were chances that I would have succeeded scoring a goal.
We took places; the referee whistled and I, by putting all my remaining powers, threw the ball... Which ended in the goal! Two seconds later he whistled, ending the game. Our team had lost but at least, I scored the last goal, reducing the difference at eight points. When playing in games, having a one digit difference sounds much better than a double digit.
Our coach, a forty-years old muscled man, with a crew cut, clad in dark red Speedos with two white horizontal lines at the left side of the crotch --the Speedos of our team that we all wear-- and a white t-shirt with the name of our team, whistled while waving his hand calling us at his side. I swam and soon was at the edge of the pool looking up to his face with my teammates surrounding me. He knelt on his left foot and start talking to us.
"Alright kids!" he said with a patronizing voice, "There's no need to use advance mathematics to calculate and find out the outcome of the game. I know you feel disappointed but if this comforts you a bit, I say that the game was much better than out last one."
Mumbles came from the boys showing that the coach's words did not comforted them at all. Some of them looked down in the water and a few curses were heard, but the coach ignored them.
"I'm serious boys," he continued, "I'm glad to see that your whole performance has increased. You sure play more like a team now, which is good. I remind you that our last game with the same opponents, ended with a twenty-four points difference, which compared to the only eight points of this game, is an achievement!" he exclaimed.
Somehow, the boys were cheered up a bit from the coach's words and finally some smiles showed up on the previously sad little faces.
"Now-- In case you're wondering why we lost again, I'll tell you briefly and we'll analyse it more in our next lesson. The problem is that you let our `Star' here alone with the `Shark'!" he said with a rising tone while pointing at me.
"Alan is our `Torpedo!' I've told you a thousands of times to always keep a clear passage for him when he has the ball," he continued, "What you did is to move all together at our side of the pool, congesting it together with the attackers of the opponent team, leaving the rest of the pool without protection. Now you all know that Alan had many chances to score but was stopped by his Nemesis, Tom, who unfortunately is two years older than him and swims much faster and grabs him every time he has the ball just like a shark. I too would like for us too to have a fifteen-year-old chaser but we haven't! Now, I told you many times before that you must always leave some of the team at the opponent's side in order to help our attacker in case he gets the ball," He stopped for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, "Do you kids understand now why I tell you this? Do you understand why the two attackers should always stay at the opponent's side of the pool?"
The kids mumbled slowly a `yes' while looking down.
"OK! There's no need to get sad boys," said the coach, "We have improved a lot lately but that doesn't mean we can't do better. But, that's for our next lesson! Now! The pool is open for the public; you can get out of the water and run at the showers or, who ever wants, stay and swim a bit, just don't mess around with the old folks and don't make cannon-ball jumps!"
Most of the boys jumped out of the water and disappeared in the corridor leading to the showers and the stalls. I decided to stay a bit and play around in the pool. I love the feeling of being in the water and also wanted to relax my muscles a bit.
I took off my bathing cap leaving it at the side of the pool and slowly started to breaststroke randomly in the pool. There were already some people in it, mostly older who came to swim because their doctor had suggested so. All of sudden, I spotted Tom at the other side of the pool!
He too had took off his bathing cap and was in the water, supporting his body by laying on his elbows which were behind his back on the tile paved floor. His pectorals were out of the water, looking firm while his nipples were visibly hard, showing that his body was not yet relaxed. It seemed that he too stayed a bit in the water to relax.
I approached him slowly taking advantage of the fact that his head was laying back, staring at the roof. As I came closer and closer I could see --and marvel-- his toned body, which looked very sturdy with all his muscles being rock hard from his efforts in the game.
I was almost near him when he took his head down and looked straight at me, wearing a big smile on his face and taking me by surprise, since it looked like he was expecting me. For a few seconds I was trapped in his soft, deep green eyes, which subconsciously made me relax and feel like I was most welcomed.
"Hello Alan," he said with a very friendly tone in his voice, "I saw you swimming to me. I hope you still not mad for my last blocking in the game?"
"How?... I mean... did you..." I tried to enunciate my query but again he took me by surprise by answering to my never phrased question.
"I saw you coming by staring at the roof," he said, while pointing above with the index of his right hand and taking his head up looking at the roof.
I took my head up too and stared for a few seconds but saw nothing. I looked down at his face, which was now again looking deeply in my eyes with his two soft green emeralds and wearing that warm, welcoming smile.
"I see nothing!" I retorted with a voice showing a mixture of embarrassment with anger.
"That means that you're in the wrong position," he replied and continued, "Come next to me! C'mon! Sit right next me!" and waved his right hand in a way of calling.
I swam right next to him. Suddenly he reached his hand and put it around my shoulder dragging me close to him. I was shocked from the awkward feeling and the warmth of Tom's body while mine plugged on his.
Tom pointed again with the index of his right hand to the roof and told me to look again carefully to the sunroof in the middle.
I took my head up and suddenly my eyes goggled with surprise. I could now see and observe almost the whole swimming pool area. The light of the sun and the lights inside the building were combined in a weird way, making the sunroof operate like a gigantic mirror, which reflected everything beneath it. I exhaled a small breath of surprise while staring at this `magical' mirror.
I kept observing the people in the water via the reflecting sunroof for some time, until my eyes spotted my reflecting self, embraced by Tom's hand, who had taken his head down and was staring at my bedazzled self. With a swing, I turned my head and looked straight in his eyes, ready to demand an explanation, but as soon our glances clashed, I was overwhelmed by the gentle look of his two deep green eyes, which were staring deep into mine. A few seconds passed before he spoke to me.
"Is your curiosity satisfied my friend?" he asked with a most soft voice.
"Yes," I replied mechanically and turned my head down.
As I was looking down into the water I could see Tom's body and without knowing it I was gripped by his black Speedos, with the two while vertical lines on side of them, and their impressive bulge in front of them where Tom's genitals are.
A few seconds passed before he addressed his speech to me again.
"What's wrong Alan? You seem worried. Your face has turned all red!" he said worriedly.
I was shocked by his voice and abruptly landed back to reality.
"N-- No-- Nothing..." I stammered, not daring to take my face off and look at his.
Tom's hand was still grabbing my shoulder, forcing our bodies to firmly touch each other's. I could feel his smooth, hairless skin and the warmth of his body on mine and for some reason that I couldn't explain; I was enjoying it and made me feel good.
"You're still hiding something from me Alan," He said with a slight, querying tone in his voice. "You're down casting and look sad, I hope you're not upset cause of the game right? I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sure you already know from professional games that such incidents, like grabbing an opponent from his Speedos in order to slow him down, or `steal' the ball, are common. Right?" he asked while looking down to me with a caring look in his face.
"Yes," I answered, "I know. It's not that. It's just that... Well, lets face it! There's no chance for us ever winning your team. You always confound us!" and with a low voice I continued, "Every time, but every bloody time I get the ball and run to your goal you always stop me. You're faster than me and no matter how much I train and improve my swimming speed you always catch me."
I took my head up and glanced for a second at Tom's face, which was now looking towards mine, only, to find out that he was looking at me with sympathy and compassion in his eyes --Or, at least that's how I interpreted his look. A small, soft sigh came out of his lungs.
"Alan, Alan," He said, "You shouldn't allow your self to be so defeatist! You're doing very well and if you want the truth, believe it or not, I had a really hard time catching you today."
I goggled my eyes while looking at his face. He continued:
"I've seen you many times before practising hard. I know you come and swim here almost everyday, pushing your self to the limits. You seem very determined in improving your whole performance and I have to say that I admire this virtue of yours, so please perk up a bit and stop being defeatist. If you keep practising with the same stamina, I'm more than sure that soon you'll be able to avoid my hunting and, if not surpass my skills, they'll be equal to mine."
"You really mean that?" I asked with a smile on my face, which he noticed.
"Of course I do you silly!" he replied with a laugh. "You're a hard opponent my friend," he continued, "and if you don't believe me, believe our coach who told us so today."
"What did he tell you?" I asked impatiently.
"After the game, he told us that if I wasn't in the team to stop you, we would have been defeated heavily, since most of the boys in our team swim much slower than you Alan." He looked at me with a patronizing look on his face and continued, "He also wished that you'd be in out team. His exact words were: `If we had that kid on our side, he would form an unbeatable team with you Tom!' you hear me Alan?"
"Yes... Yes," I replied while feeling my cheeks blushing again.
"Oh well," said Tom, "I'll go out and head for the stalls to change. You'll stay here?" he asked.
"Eh... No! I'll come with you," I said, and jumped with him out of the water and followed him in the corridor.
As I was walking behind Tom, I could clearly see and admire the back of his body. He was tall for his age; approximately five point six or five point eight feet, I couldn't say for sure, but was half head taller than me. His body was completely hairless except from some fuzz on his calves and thighs. His hair was dark brown and cut short but not like a crew cut.
His body was more than firm and you could clearly see some strong muscles under his smooth, soft skin. I glanced for a few seconds at his slickly buttocks which looked like they were carved on granite.
It wasn't the first time that I had felt attracted to a boy's body but it definitely was the first time I felt such a strong urge to slap a boy's bum with my hand! For the moment I couldn't explain why I was feeling like this, but I had the impression that it would feel very nice to have my hand on one of Tom's buttocks. I tried to block out the though and soon we reached the men's shower room.
Tom unlocked his drawer, took out his rucksack and let it on a bench. He knelt a bit, unzipped it and took out a plastic bag where he had his shampoo. I too had taken my rucksack out of my drawer but hadn't any shampoo in it, so I let it on the bench right next to Tom's and moved to the showers on the wall.
"Where's your shampoo?" asked Tom.
"Ugh... I haven't got any. It's ok! I'll just pour some water on me to take the chlorine away."
"Nonsense!" he retorted. "You can use mine if you want. And don't be ashamed!" he added with a firm tone.
He came and stood right next to me and turned both his and mine tap of the showers. I immediately felt the warm drops of water falling on my body. All of sudden I felt pleased.
Tom had opened his shampoo and was putting some on his hand; then turned to me and with a voice that showed demand asked me to open my hand, so that he could put some onto my palm. I obeyed and let him spill some of the white, viscous cream on it.
We started showering and coating our bodies with it, cleaning our selves from the chlorine. When I was almost done with washing my self off, Tom asked me something that gave me a heartbeat.
"Could you please help me wash my back Alan? I can't reach it well."
I stood flabbergasted for a few seconds, trying to realize what Tom had just asked me to do. When I recovered from the shock and got what he meant, I agreed.
"S... Sure!" I stammered, "Gi... Gimme the shampoo."
I took the bottle and put some shampoo on my palm, then let it on the floor and took a step forward to reach Tom's back. He had bended a bit over and put both his hands on the wall, waiting for mine to wash his back.
I touched his back with my palms and felt like I was hit by electricity. His wet skin was smooth and my hands were slipping on it as they were coating the shampoo all over, while the muscles beneath were firm and vibrating a sturdy aura.
I was nervous at the beginning but as I grinded his back, I started to relax and enjoy the feeling of Tom's skin. He was moaning softly and seemed enjoying it too.
"That's good Alan," he said, "very good... Mmm... Try a little harder and go a little more down please."
I followed his orders carefully.
"That's so... Good!" he moaned with pleasure. "You have NO idea how relaxing this is Alan! You really have magic hands! You're doing it so right."
I felt proud at moment, knowing that I was pleasing Tom. I was happier though for the pleasure `I' was receiving by being lucky enough to fondle Tom's body like this, without having to feel guilt or shame.
Meanwhile, by moving my hands with circled moves, grinding Tom's firm back, I took them very low, almost at his buttocks and with every turn my thumbs could `accidentally' touch the waistband from his black Speedos. I began feeling nervous again, cause I knew now that I was playing with fire and that I should be very careful not to make Tom suspect that I was enjoying this, when all of sudden:
"Lo... Lower please..." he stammered, and for the first time, I noticed an uncertain tone in his voice, like he was ashamed or not sure for what he was asking.
He had his head down, staring at the floor waiting for my reaction. I didn't think much about it and with a mixture of joy and anxiety, moved my hands a few inches lower. Now my palms were over his black Speedos, fiddling his two bums in circled moves. A few sighs came out of his mouth, which I interpreted as sighs of relief and joy. I started massaging his buttocks while he bended more, pushing his butt harder against my hands and opened his two legs wider.
"Tom... Tom, are you feeling ok?" I asked with a trembled voice, "Do... do you... want me to stop?"
"No! No... Please, continue... You're doing an... excellent job down there, do what ever you wish..." he said and pressed his butt even harder against me.
I keep massaging and caressing his buttocks for some time and slowly kept going lower. Without knowing it my right hand was between his legs, softly fiddling his testicles over the wet Speedos. The silence in the room was interrupted only by the resounding sound from the falling water of the showers on our bodies and the floor, and the soft groans of pleasure coming out of Tom's mouth as I was caressing him.
Suddenly, the sound of slippers walking hastily towards the showers surprised us, and with speed of light we disengaged and stood under our showers, washing our bodies like nothing had happened. Soon, two men came in the showers room, clad only in their Speedos and having a towel on their shoulders. They were both very big in age and one of them was bald. Their bodies looked depressingly old, although you could guess that they were sturdy lads in their bygone youths. As they entered the room, they looked at us, smiled and greeted as they stepped under the showers opposite to ours. We replied with a small wave of our heads and turned to the wall so that we would not look at them.
Tom turned off the water and stepped towards the bench, grabbed his rucksack and moved with a fast but steady gait to the corridor with the stalls without saying a single word.
I realized that the magic was lost and that probably, he had landed abruptly back to reality and must have felted embarrassed. I too turned the water off, took my rucksack from the bench and walked to the stalls looking for him.
The stalls were in a long corridor, which ended into an emergency exit door. On every side there were about thirty or so stalls with pale green doors and black, painted numbers on them. The lights at the end of the corridor were broken for some time now and it was pretty dark there, almost leaving half of the stalls in darkness. The only source of light was the emergency light above the emergency door; therefore, the last stalls were rarely used, since the ones at front, were more than adequate for the regular needs of the swimming pool visitors.
Guided by my boyish instinct, I walked though the whole corridor at the last stalls, which stood in the dark. I knelt on my knees, bended over and looked under the openings from the doors, searching for a pair of feet. I felt lucky as I spotted them at the last but one stall. I walked and stood right outside and gently knocked the door.
"Tom?" I asked with a low voice. "Tom... I know you're in. Please, are you alright?"
There was no answer. I softly knocked again and repeated my question and after a few seconds, which passed with silence, I added: "Tom... I'm... I'm sorry if I hurt you... I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I do not know what happened to me or why I was touching you... like... this... but..."
I looked down, staring at the floor and my bare feet. I was overwhelmed by emotions of shame, apprehension and nervousness. A few more seconds passed with silence, which were only interrupted from the sound of the showers where the two old men were showering. With the last drops of my remaining courage I looked up straight at the door and talked to Tom.
"Look... I'll spare your blushes and leave you alone. I... I promise... No! I swear, that no matter what, I won't speak to anyone about what I did to you today... Ever! And... Please know... Please know that I'm sorry and that I'll never annoy you or speak to you again. I'm really sorry for what I've done..."
I stared at the door for a few more seconds and finally decided to leave. As I turned my body and took the first steps slowly, I heard the lock of the door; I froze and stood still. I heard the door creaking as it opened and turned my head to look.
Tom was standing at the door, holding it with his right hand and was looking at my direction. Our looks clashed for a second, as we both glared deep in each other's soul; I then turned by body towards him and stood there looking at his face, waiting for him to say something.
I was feeling really bad and deeply ashamed, and subconsciously, I wished that he would let me go with it. Even if that meant that I had to face verbal or even physical abuse by Tom's burst of rage. There was no need to fool my self. I knew that I wasn't a normal kid. I knew, that liking other boys was not acceptable. I knew, that I was what most people use to call... A fag! A sissy! A homo!
I knew that today I had taken that one step that revealed everything to Tom. He now knew what I was. I was one hundred percent sure he knew. He wasn't stupid!
And now here I stood. Looking down with a blushing face, feeling ashamed for my self, embarrassed and with my deep secret on show. Tom knows, and if he wishes so, soon the rest will too... And that would be the end.
Tom was standing at the same place, looking at me from head to foot. It seemed that he was thinking of what to do. He had a look that showed that in his mind thousands of thoughts were analysed, trying to conclude to his verdict. Would he let me go? Would he swear on me, call me names? Would he hit me?
In my mind, possible scenarios were projected like a movie. I could see Tom speaking to his coach, telling him what I did in the showers, then, his coach would tell it to mine, he would then take me aside from the other boys and ask me if what he had heard was true. I would deny it but he would read the truth from my blushing face. At the end, he would ban me from the team and soon I'd had to explain to my parents why I wasn't going to my trainings. They would go and ask the coach for the reason and he would tell them... And then--
"Why did you do it?" asked Tom with a steady tone.
I landed back in the half-dark corridor and tried to realize what Tom had just asked me.
"What?" I asked softly.
"Why did you do it? Why did you touch me like that? Do you like touching other boys?" he asked with a query tone and looked right in my eyes.
I thought my answer for a few seconds and took the hard decision to confess my secret. I was convinced that Tom wasn't stupid and that there was no need to try to trick him. I also thought that maybe, if I was honest to him, he might react in a more calm way. I bend my head down, took a deep breath and answered:
"I'm sorry for what I did. I... I did it because... I like your body... I like... I like boys rather than girls..."
A few seconds of silence passed before I found the strength to continue.
"I was amazed by your body. I like it very much. I have been admiring it for some time now and... and always wanted to touch and fondle it. I find you very... very attractive... and beautiful..."
Tom was looking at me with a strange look, which I couldn't interpret. Was it anger, was it embarrassment, was it?... Could it be?... Could this mischievous smile on his face be a good sign?
Tom let the door handle and took a step forward. All of sudden my heart felt lighter and relived by its previous burden. Tom was now smiling again at me with his usual gentle look.
"Then my dear Alan, I too have to make a confession to you!" said Tom.
My heartbeat rate increased and I could feel my skin straining from anxiety and curiosity. What on earth would Tom say to me? What kind of `confession' would he do?
"I, Alan, like you too!" he said, taking me by surprise.
I stood flabbergasted from the impact in my brain. I kept standing still for a few seconds, trying to realize what Tom had just told me. Could it be true? Tom just confessed that he likes me? That he likes me like I like him? Did I hear well, or are my ears playing a weird game to me?
The noise of the two old men's slippers was heard again, interrupting our `moment' and making me realize that I was not dreaming. All at once, Tom stretched his hand, grabbed my wrist and with force he dragged me in the stall were he was before and shut the door. Before giving me time to react, he put his forefinger on his lips, making me understand that I should remain silent.
We both stood still in the stall, waiting patiently for the old men to dress and leave the corridor, which thank God happened soon. Tom loosed his grab on my wrist as they walked away and looked at my face again, grinning mischievously. All my worries were now evaporated and felt calm being with Tom. He `read' this on my face and probably felt relived too.
"Alan," he said, "I really like you, but first, can I ask you some questions?"
"Yes, sure Tom, what ever you like." I replied.
"How old are you Alan, Thirteen, fourteen?"
"I'm thirteen and a half." I retorted with pride.
"Good! That's good. I was afraid that you would be too young for me. Of course I had asked some of your teammates before but they all gave me different answers and could not be sure."
"You're, fifteen! Right?"
"Yes. I've turned fifteen last month," said Tom, who then asked: "Alan. Did you ever have sex before?"
I blushed a bit and replied: "No... Not really, except if playing with your self is considered as sex."
"You mean masturbating, jerking off?"
"I see..." he made a pause and continued, "I had sex several times with other boys you know," he said while I looked at him with surprise and some admiration. "It's the best thing I had in my life so far, and always look forward for more."
"May I... Ask with who?"
"At the scouts camp where I go during the summers," he said, "There were some boys like you who showed their preferences to me --I dunno why. It seems that for some reason, others feel more comfortable with me about it and somehow confess or make me understand that they like me."
"I didn't know that you like boys like I do. Would you... Please... Would you show me?"
"You mean, if I would like to have sex with you?"
I blushed a bit and said: "Yes... If that's ok with you!"
Tom put his hand on my chest and fondled it softly while slowly going down. Soon he had my crotch in his palm, softly fiddling it. I tried to stop him for a moment by taking away his hand, but my attempt didn't last for long as the pleasure feeling was taking me over, making my breathing to go faster.
"Do the same to me," he said, "don't be shy."
I moved my hand hesitatingly towards Tom's crotch and touched it with my fingers. I felt the wet fabric of the Speedos combined with the warmth coming out from Tom's balls, and the whole feeling was lovely. As I was fiddling his crotch I took up my head and looked at Tom, being aware that I had a big smile on my face. Surprisingly, I saw that Tom was smiling at me too.
"You're a nice chap Alan," he said, "I think the two of us will have a great time and be good friends from now on."
He bended towards me and put both his hands behind my back. His one hand on my shoulder blade and the other on the waist and plugged his body onto mine.
I felt his chest and stomach touching mine while his neck was on my shoulder. He was so indescribably warm and made me feel really nice. I loved this new experience and enjoyed it as much as I could. Most of all, I could feel his now rock-hard cock pressing my groin, as he was feeling my growing boyhood pressing on his balls. We stood like this for a few seconds, when all of sudden we heard from the speakers the announcement that the swimming pool would close in fifteen minutes, and that all swimmers should soon leave the building.
"I think it's time for us to leave," said Tom with a serious tone in his voice. "What are your plans for tonight Alan?"
"I don't really have any plans. It's Saturday, so, I can stay up till late if I want. Usually I spend the eves watching cartoons on the network television."
"Are your parents at home?"
"No! Both mum and dad work double shifts on Saturdays and won't be home before teen pm."
"Same for my mum," said Tom, "I mean... She doesn't work during weekends but she's out of the house at Saturdays, usually visiting friends and relatives and never comes back before midnight."
"And your dad?" I asked instinctively.
All of sudden Tom's face went sad and had an expression of pain, like what I asked punched him on his face, I got worried, feeling that I said something wrong.
"Tom. I'm sorry, did I said--"
"No! No it's not your fault! You don't know so, it's ok." with a sad look he continued, "My dad died in a car accident four years ago. He's dead. I haven't any..."
First time in my life I felt such sympathy for someone. Although I couldn't simulate Tom's feelings, I knew that he was in pain. The tone of his voice showed clearly that his soul and inner feelings we hurt and not yet healed.
I broke the silence by just saying a soft `sorry' which sounded foolish to me and looked down with shame, feeling guilty for reminding to Tom something that causes him pain.
After a few seconds he tried to give me a fake smile and said: "Oh well. What's done is done and can't do anything for it. So lets forget about it shall we?"
I gave back a fake smile and looked at Tom. He seemed a bit cheered up by my smile and then took a mischievous look on his face.
"Would you like to come at my place, and..." he looked straight in my eyes.
"YES!" I exclaimed without hesitation. "But-- I'll have to call mum to tell her, cause else she will get worry if she calls at home and doesn't find me there."
"Cool," said Tom, "Here, use my cell-phone," he added while opening his rucksack to take out his cell-phone and hand it over to me.
I called my mum and explained that I would go to a friend of mine to play computer games and that I would be home before midnight. When she asked me where she could find me, Tom waved at me and whispered his cell-phone number, which I gave to her. She was very busy at the moment and therefore she didn't ask many details about my friend. I felt relived when I closed the phone and gave it back to Tom.
"Ok, lets dress and go to my place," he said, while wearing a big grin on his face.
I opened the door, grabbed my rucksack, which was lying on the floor, and entered a stall right next to Tom's. With quick moves took my Speedo off, towelled my body and dressed up.
In less than two minutes I was ready and waiting for Tom who didn't took much time to dress up either and together start walking to foyer.
When we walked out of the building and heard the door closing behind us, we were both properly attired for a classic, October afternoon. Tom was wearing blue, baggy jeans and a warm looking, dark-red pullover, while I was attired with dark-blue, short pants which barely covered my upper-thighs, a thin khaki footer, a short-sleeved, light grey Jacket on top of it and a navy-blue baseball cap which had the word `BOY' weaved on it with white thread.
Tom looked at me and asked: "Aren't your legs getting cold by wearing shot pants at this time of the year?"
"It's a weirdness of mine," I replied, "For some reason that I can't really explain, I don't like long trousers. There's no way I can explain it to you but I feel amazingly awkward when I wear them. So, I leave them for use only when it's really cold in the winter and in special occasions like when we have to visit somewhere important."
"I see. I have to admit that I like your dressing style very much Alan!" he said, "It's very... `Boyish', and I like that," he smiled.
I smiled back with some pride while putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket and asked: "So where do you live Tom?"
"Not far from you Alan," he said, showing that he probably knew where my house was, "My house is about three minutes away from yours with my scooter."
"You have a scooter?" I exclaimed.
"Yes I have. I took my license this summer and now mum lets me use her old scooter. It ain't much but it does what it's supposed to do: carry me around quickly where and when I want," he beamed with joy.
I followed him in the car park and moved along to the side where the motorbikes were allowed to park. Tom moved to an old, but good in shape, cyan scooter, and with his bunch of keys unlocked the lock of the chain, which he put around the handlebars. With another key he unlocked the saddle and took a helmet from under it.
"Here," he said while pushing it gently on my chest, forcing me to take my hands out of my pockets and grab it, "I have only one helmet and since I'm the one who drives and responsible for your safety, you're the one who'll wear it!" The tone of his voice showed that he would not accept `no' as an answer, so I obeyed and put the helmet on my head, after taking my hat off, and fastened it.
He sat on the scooter and turned it on. I straddled behind him and while giving me his rucksack he said to me: "I can't have it on my back since you're sitting behind me, put it on yours and always keep your hands tight around my waist. I don't drive fast or reckless, so there's no need to feel worried. We'll be at my house in ten minutes."
I did as he said and enjoyed the feeling of having my hands around his waist, touching his developing, firm abs on his stomach and having my chest plugged on his back.
Tom cranked the crank and the scooter started moving; soon we were traversing the streets of the city moving towards his house, where I expected to have my first `contact' with another boy. And not just ANY boy, but Tom! The boy who I liked for so long and had fantasized so many times while laying on my bed and self-pleasuring my self!
I was excited and didn't care much about the ride, so I felt a little surprised when suddenly we slowed down, took a turn and ridded on a drive that ended in a garage. Tom stopped in it, turned the key and the motor went silent. I dismounted from the scooter and peered thought the door of the garage at the two-floored house with the big attic on top of it. We had arrived at Tom's house.
Tom who had dismounted and parked the scooter, put his hand under my chin, unfastened the belt of the helmet, took it off and put it in his place; under the saddle, and then stretched his hand waiting for me to give his rucksack back.
As we walked out of the garage I could have a better look at the place where Tom lives.
It was a well-built, classic wooden house with two floors and a big, tall roof, covered with firebrick coloured tiles and with three protruding windows on it. At the west side there was a huge, stone-built chimney. The house was painted all white except the four corners of the walls and the window-ledges, which were painted with light cyan colour. At the front there was a porch, about teen or twelve feet wide, with three steps in front of the opening. The main entrance of the house was a doubled-leaved, dark blue door with two oblong, ground-glassed windows on topside.
In front of the house there was a tidy little garden, with lots of colourful flowers and other small plants, which their names were unknown to me. Tom had noticed that I was looking at it and told me:
"Mum loves spending her free time by taking care of the garden. She puts a lot of effort and gets very sad if someone damage her plants, so be careful to walk on the footpath and not step on some plant, cause she will notice --she always do!"
I looked carefully down at the footpath to ensure that I wouldn't accidentally step on anything.
"Lets go in, shall we?" he proposed with a nice smile.
I followed him on the porch and stepped behind him in the house after he had unlocked the door and entered. I start gazing at the interior, which was heavily decorated. There were lots of shelves with books, magazines, vases and a huge variety of small, decorative objects.
Straight ahead of us wide stairs were going to the upper floors. At the left side was a huge living room with big, comfortable couches, forming a half circle with a small table in front of them; a huge stone built fireplace was at the opposite direction. Right next to it, stood a big television, at least thirty-two inches wide. The whole place looked warm and comfortable, making me feel relaxed.
At the right side of the house was a big kitchen, surrounded by shelves filled up with plates, glasses, and casseroles of all sizes and shapes along with other cooking objects. In the middle stood a big wooden table with six chairs. The table was covered with a red-white, tartan tablecloth and above, a huge bowl with lots and different types of fruits in it.
I couldn't observe the place more carefully; Tom collared my wrist and dragged me upstairs while he explained:
"Down stairs are the living room and the kitchen, on the first floor are the bedrooms and the bathroom. My room used to be here, right next to my sister's," he said while we stood for a second at the first-floor landing. Then he continued to the upper floor where the attic was.
"Two years ago my sister and I decided to `expand' our boundaries. So I gave her my room, which she connected with hers, while I moved at the old attic. I'm very pleased cause it's much bigger with lots of free space, and a great vista thought the windows. I also have my own bathroom with toilet and shower cause it used to be a guest room. You gonna love it," he cheered.
Indeed the prospect of having a lot of free space and being isolated by the rest of the family sounded great to me, so I felt eager to enter and explore Tom's little private castle.
We finally reached the attic-floor landing and after Tom had opened the door, he moved aside and stretched his hand pointing inside, while gently bending forward, imitating some kind of butler who was escorting me.
"Please sir," he said joyfully.
I entered and gazed around. It was LOVELY!
First of all it was huge! Gigantic! Or at least that's how it looked to my eyes. The surrounding walls were all covered with libraries full of books and magazines --most of them were comic books-- and shelves covered too with books, board games, toys like balls of all kind and sizes, old stuffed animals --probably from Tom's earlier childhood-- and lots of other things.
At the few `free' places on the wall I could see posters from movies, or famous sportsmen and comic heroes --I stopped for a moment to marvel a huge poster of Batman-- or scattered, pinned photos. From the three protruding windows you could see the whole neighbourhood and far away the tall blocks of flats in the centre, where most offices, stores and public services were located.
At the right side was Tom's office, a quite big one, with a computer on it and a huge, flat screen and of course, more scattered books and magazines and piles of papers. On the opposite wall stood a big bed, not double-sized but still bigger than normal, with two huge white pillows and messy white sheets and blankets. Some clothes, like shirts, pants, socks and underwear were messily lying on the edge of the bed and on the floor among with some scattered magazines.
Finally, I laid my eyes on another big television standing at the sidewall between two windows, which I calculated should be at least twenty-six inches wide. Connected to it with cables lied on the floor a Play Station with its joysticks lying next to it; like they were hastily thrown down --obviously because the game was interrupted for some reason-- and some game CDs.
Tom noticed a bright envious smile on my face and asked: "I presume you approve my taste?"
"It's the most cosy place I've ever seen in my whole life," I replied, "This is definitely the room of my dreams!"
"I'm glad you like it. You'll visit it often from now on so you should feel comfortable in it," he said and blinked his eye.
I was still bedazzled, looking all around observing Tom's possessions and felt momentarily surprised when his hands curled around my body from behind.
"So... You'll stay for a little, fun?" he asked with a soft voice.
"Please... Please be kind to me. It's the first time that I'll... `do it' with someone... Does it hurt as some say?" I asked while feeling a bit nervous again.
Tom stood still for a moment and then answered: "Well, to be honest I can't give a clear answer. Some things, like sucking on someone's cock or getting sucked by another boy don't hurt at all! Except if he's stupid enough bite it hard, but I've had hurt in the past when some boys who had a very fat cock took me from behind, although, most of the times the pain isn't very sharp and it's only for a few seconds, after that it gives its place to a real pleasant feeling that I can't describe with words. You'll have to experience it your self."
Tom hugged me harder and said: "Alan. I really like you. I've told you before. I've been looking at you and sometimes even masturbated fantasizing you. And I've seen how you behave in your team and to other kids in the school. You're very kind and like to help others. At whole you stay out of troubles. You're not some spoiled brat who tries to manipulate others, and I like that very much; so stop feeling unease. I promise you above all that I only want to make you feel nice and happy. I don't want to hurt you or hit or you do anything that you wouldn't want me to do.
"You can stop me if you don't like what I do, you can leave if you wish, the keys are on the door downstairs, and you can ask me to do what ever you like. So please know that I'm your friend. Most of all don't be afraid that this is some kind of trap. I'm in your shoes too and know how it feels to be... `different'... I'm not going to say anything of what we do to anyone--"
I turned my head and looked at his face, right in his eyes and said: "You do? You know how I feel?"
"Yes I do. At the beginning I didn't care much. I was ten years old when it first happened and of course had no idea if it was something good or bad. All I knew was that it felted good to me and that I liked it."
"You were ten?" I exclaimed.
"Does it sound too young?"
"Well... I have to admit that it sounds weird... Not that I had no fantasies of my own at that age, or that I didn't masturbate--"
"Do you cum?" he interrupted me.
"Of course not!" retorted I, "I was too young to--"
"Not then you silly!" he exclaimed, "I mean now! Do you cum when you masturbate?"
"Oh..." I looked sheepishly down for a second and answered: "Yes, I do. I started when I was eleven and a half. Not much but it was fun. Now I cum a lot and have to clean a mess whenever I jerk off."
"That's nice. I like cum and can't wait to taste yours--"
"TASTE?" I exclaimed and goggled my eyes. "You mean... put it in your mouth?!"
"Don't be so shocked silly! That's how it's done! Else there's no point in having sex. Don't you know how babies are made? The man has to cum inside the woman but we boys don't have a vagina. Not that it matters cause most of the women like to drink it too. It has a funny taste you know."
"How do you know all this stuff?" I asked.
"Hellooo! Haven't you ever watched porn you silly?"
"Of course I've had!" I retorted with an embarrassed tone in my voice.
"Then you should know what I'm talking about," said Tom.
"Yeah it's just that I never thought of... you drinking--"
"That I would swallow another boy's cum?" he laughed, "Ok. I'll spare your blushes and admit that when I first started, I thought of it as something sick and disgusting too; but with time and some experimentation I have broken the taboos and now enjoy it very much. I suggest you doing the same and you'll see that it tastes real funny."
"What do you mean with `funny'"?
"Ugh... Good question indeed. I can't describe it easily. It's neither salty nor sweet. It's none and both together... Somehow..."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I exclaimed.
"Oh! You used the `f' word!" said Tom surprisingly while loosening his hands off my body, "Go to the detention room straight ahead young man!" he added, imitating a teacher's voice and pointing with his finger at the bed, "And I'll have a word with your parents soon for this!" he added.
Tom had pushed the right button and we both started a burst of laughs, which lasted for more than a whole minute and when we stopped, we were both trying to catch our breaths.
"Man that was funny!" I said.
Tom had a few more laughs and said: "Y... Yeah. Can you imagine? `Detention' for saying the word `Fuck'? PATHETIC!" We both repeated the `f-word' several times and laughed for a few more minutes.
I turned and looked at Tom, directly in his two green emeralds and asked: "So... How do we start?..."
He grinned mischievously and took a step towards me. He started fondling my chest over my clothes, looked at my face and started to explain:
"You know my dear Alan. The secret in having sex is to be calm enough, and trust your partner. Since this is your first time I know it will be hard and difficult to trust me, but that should be your utter goal. Furthermore, you mustn't show or feel revulsion for your partner's body; you must be ready to accept his flues and share yours."
Tom's hands were both on my body now, caressing my stomach and slowly going lower.
"For example, when I'll be licking your body you will feel my saliva on it and that should feel nice. That's the whole point of licking you. You'll see that if you manage to surpass the early disgusting feeling, you will start to feel more comfortable and in the end you will like it. This of course also applies for sperm coming out of our pricks and sweat from our bodies."
He bended and surprised me by giving a gentle kiss on my check. I didn't move and let my self at Tom's will. I didn't know how I would react when he would do all those things he said. I wasn't sure yet if the real thing would be as nice as I had fantasized it. I was sure though about one thing: That Tom would never try to use and hurt me. His words and acts were true to me and he had won my trust. He would be the one, the first true love of mine, and I was happy for it!
Tom was caressing my body and at the same time forcing me towards his bed and when we reached it, he laid me down on it with a soft push. My feet were still on the floor and he came and stood between my open legs. He knelt and caressed my legs by softly stroking them with the tips of his fingers, up and down, several times. The whole feeling of being touched like this was unfamiliar to me but I accepted it with joy. He untied my navy-blue snickers and took them off, along with my white socks.
"You have nice feet," he said while standing up, "Please, lie on my bed more comfortable." I aligned my body with the bed, and lied on it in a normal position, like someone who is about to sleep; I felt a bit awkward laying on the bed of another boy, who I only knew from school and had no more than a few talks with him; meanwhile Tom had taken his shoes and socks off too and jumped on bed.
Suddenly a spark struck in my mind and I ask Tom: "Tom! What if your mum comes home earlier, or you sister?"
He smiled and answered: "No worries mate. I've deliberately left my keys on the lock of the door. Mum can't come in no matter what! She'll have to ring the bell, or call me on my cell phone and ask for me to come down and open the door for her; as for Mary ---my sister--, she's studying at collage and wont' be home before the Halloween.
"Deliberately?" I asked.
"Yes silly. When you've lived in an all Boy-scouts camp, as many summers as I, with more than four hundred boys and patrolling team leaders, you learn to valuate the virtue of foresightedness.
"I see. You're really smart Tom. I wouldn't have thought of it my self."
He smiled and with a raunchy voice he said: "Thankies... I'm glad you don't like me just for my body. Now lets cut the chat and let me please you my friend."
Tom straddled on me and pulled my wrists, forcing me to sit up a bit and with quick moves took my jacket off, then he repeated the action and took my footer off too. He let me lay down again and I felt my head resting on one of his big, soft pillows. His hands went down on my short pants and unfastened my belt, then the button and finally, unzipped my fly. With both his hands he opened the slit and fold it like it was some kind of paper.
He leered joyously at the white triangle, which was formed by my white, cotton briefs and the folded flies of my pants.
"You know Alan, this is the part I like most during the preliminaries!" he said with an impish tone in his voice, "The view of a boy's open pants and his white briefs beneath them, forming a nice white triangle of lust --really turns me on!" he exclaimed.
"Well," I retorted a bit shamelessly, "Same goes for me! I like seeing boys in their undies or with the buttons of their pants open."
"I thought you would Alan... I thought you would, and I'm glad you do."
He gazed at my crotch for almost a minute while caressing with his hands both my inner thighs, which had as a direct reaction a movement in my briefs. I could feel my blood being pumped in my shaft, which was getting harder and harder and was growing in size as Tom's hands were slipping closer and closer to my bulgy crotch.
"How big is your prick Alan?" asked Tom questioningly.
I tried to recall the last time I had measured my penis and answered: "Last time I checked it was approximately four inches or so," and tried to hide the excitement of my voice.
Tom mumbled with pleasure and said: "Alan that's big for your age! Mine was only three inches long when I was thirteen--"
"How--" a sigh came out of my mouth! I was really enjoying Tom's random touches on my balls. He smiled and at me and I tried to ask again: "How big is yours?"
"I measured it a few weeks ago," he said, "It was around five point seven inches long, and also quite fat. I hope you'll like it as I'm sure I'm gonna like yours Alan."
"So far... I like you Tom, so... I think I'll like your prick too" I retorted a bit sheepishly.
"Alan, take your butt up please--"
As I did what Tom requested, he drew my pants down. He moved left and right and lo, he had my pants in his hands, leaving me only in my white, cotton vest and briefs.
"Alan, would you mind helping me undress my self?" asked Tom with a soft, begging tone.
"Ugh..." I hesitated for a second or two but decided to go along, "Sure. I'll do it..."
I stood up on my knees and bend over Tom. I fondled his slender body and then, with a move, grabbed his pullover and took it up. He helped me by stretching his hands up and in a second he stood without it. Beneath of it he wore a white cotton vest, like the one I wore, but with short sleeves. I was almost sure that we wore same briefs too.
"You're doing well, keep going..." he said gleefully.
I was exploring Tom's firm chest and stomach with the fingertips of my hands and I could feel that he had some small, but strong abs under his vest which would evolve some day into very nice, strong abs like the ones I use to admire on athletes on television.
I then moved my hands lower towards his jeans. I untied his belt and unbuttoned slowly and carefully the buttons of his fly, and by imitating Tom's previous act, I folded the two leaves from the flies of his jeans, forming a nice white triangle with the white cotton briefs he wore under it.
"So we `DO!' have the same taste in underwear," I exclaimed to Tom.
"I knew it before," he retorted, "I saw you once changing in the showers when they were painting the doors from the stalls and saw you in your undies. That image of yours gave me lots of nice fantasies you know..."
"When did that happened?" I asked, trying to remember when it was the last time they had painted the doors of the stalls.
"I think... some time during last spring. Why? Does it matter?"
"No-- Not really. I mean... of course not."
Tom bounced up, hastily took his baggy jeans off, threw them away, and then landed again on his knees on the bed.
We both were now sitting on our knees on Tom's bed; clad only in our underwear, possessed by our juvenile lust and eager to explore each other's body.
It is quite hard for me to describe the mixture of feelings that where spinning in my mind: Both my body and mind desired to finally touch Tom's body and find out what sex was all about; at the same time thoughts of hesitation and if what I was about to do was good or bad, were making my decision harder.
Tom was looking at me with his gentle look, giving me the impression that he could read my mind, and patiently waited for my decision.
"If you don't feel ready for this Alan," he said, "I'll understand. It's normal to feel anxious about it. If you want me to stop I won't get mad or anything, nor make fun of you..."
TOM! That sweet caring boy with the golden heart! Being so careful with me, so understanding, shocking me with his respect towards me. No one ever --except my family-- had ever treated me with such care. I had a mixture of feelings inside me, which were hard to describe: Was it love, respect, appreciation, surprise, devotion? Was it all together, or something else, indescribable?
"Alan!" he exclaimed with a caring voice, "Alan are you ok? Why are you crying?" He seemed worried. "Are you afraid? I won't hurt you Alan! Honest! You're not in danger here! I'll take you home right now if you want!" he said and looked deep in my eyes.
It took a few seconds for me to realize that I had some tears painting lines on my cheeks. I felt embarrassed and blushed a bit.
"Sorry..." I said, "It's not what you think. I'm just... Just..."
"Oh Tom! I'm sorry! It's just that I've never heard someone talking to me like that. I feel guilty! You're such a nice guy! You have FEELINGS! You care about others, you ask what they like, you... you RESPECT them! I feel like I don't deserve such a nice friend like you..."
Tom took his finger over his lips and showed me to hush".
"Alan! Stop feeling guilt for your self! Stop feeling like you're some bad kid who need to be punished. Just cause I like and treat you like a friend, and I DO think of you as one, doesn't mean you have to feel bad. So please, calm down and stop feeling bad. Please, do it for me?" he said and smiled at me.
His words had an effect of me. He was right. I was just a boy who was feeling an attraction for him, and Tom had accepted me. I wasn't doing anything wrong that I should feel guilt or shame. Without knowing it I gave a smile back at Tom's worrying face, which smiled back at it.
"Feeling better now?" he asked.
"Yes. Sorry for scaring you I... I want you to continue... Please, don't hesitate... I have never felt so sure about it than now. Tom..."
And I was speaking the truth! Tom! Sweet, utterly caring and gentle Tom! Utterly nice looking, lively and joyful Tom! How I wanted him to grab and embrace me with his firm arms, hug and push me on his warm, nice body with his strong looking biceps!
And again... Like he had read my mind he opened his arms, put them gently around my body and hugged me with love. Had I ever been hugged like this before? I wasn't sure... All I was sure is that I wanted Tom more than anything! I wanted to feel him naked! I wanted to touch his most secret parts, and I wanted to make him very happy!
I raised my arms and hugged Tom back with a firm grasp. I was feeling happy!
"Tom..." I said.
We both loosened our hands and looked at each other's face. And then, without fear or hesitation, I put my palm gently on his crotch and smiled.
For a couple of seconds I could only feel a flaccid bulge, but soon enough, my palm read the surface and could now clearly feel Tom's prick, pumping under the soft fabric, with two, soft balls beneath it.
I gently started rubbing and stroking the area and with every stroke, I could feel Tom's boyhood growing and getting stiffer. A sigh of pleasure came out his mouth, which clearly showed to me that I was doing the right thing. Soon Tom had put his hand on my crotch and was rubbing me too, making me sigh with pleasure.
All of sudden, he put his hands down on my waist, pulled my shirt tail out of my briefs, and put his hands beneath it, caressing my abdomen. After doing this for less than a moment, he took my vest off and continued stroking my body. I let my self in his will, to do what ever he wanted with my body. With a gentle push, he lied me down on his bed.
His hand slowly went down, grasped the waistband of my briefs and slowly pulled it down, but the waistband hitched on my semi-erected penis. He pulled a little harder and my prick swung as it got released from the underwear. A spark appeared in Tom's eyes, which looked at my prick with lust and excitement.
It was the first time that someone was seeing me naked and couldn't help the blush, which appeared on my face again.
"Don't feel embarrassed," said Tom who stood up and with a quick move took off his vest and then draw his briefs down. He threw his underwear away and set on his knees again. My eyes were fixed on his genitals.
Contrary to mine, Tom's pubic was covered with a thin bush of hair. Beneath of it I could see his flaccid whooper, and although it wasn't fully erected, I immediately compared it with mine, which looked so much smaller compared to his. Of course we both were uncircumcised and therefore, our glanses were covered with foreskin. But I could see Tom's dickhead slowly coming out, right in front of my eyes, as his shaft grew longer and wider from his excitement. Finally, under his prick I could spot two, quite big, round testicles, covered only with few hairs, firmly attached on his body.
"Now we're both naked," he exclaimed joyously, "So now there's nothing to feel ashamed of."
"Th... Thanks," I muttered.
He almost lied on me and rubbed my nipple with the fingers of his hand, while he used his other one to grab my penis and start jerking me off. In a few seconds my prick went steal-hard and was enjoying Tom's grasp, moving the foreskin up and down. I could see my glans appearing and disappearing regularly, following the moves of Tom's hand.
The feeling of being jerked off by someone else is indescribable and almost impossible to explain. My early nervousness had now given its place to pure pleasure.
Tom slowed down his speed and moved his head closer to my groin and I surprisingly saw him rubbing my dickhead towards his lips! Would he lick it? Would Tom lick my prick? Could it be possible?
Before I could realize, Tom opened his mouth and engulfed my penis, surrounding it with his lips, which firmly attached the skin.
OH-MY-GOD!!! How can you EVER describe this unique, unbelievable feeling?!!
Tom's mouth was warm! VERY WARM! But at the same time wet! His tongue was twirling my shaft with quick moves making it all wet with his saliva, which at the time, didn't felt disgusting AT-ALL! On contraire! It felt superb! All I wanted was to feel more and more wet and have Tom's tongue stroking my entire shaft, up and down, non-stop!
When I thought I had it all, Tom started moving his head up and down, and every time he would move up, uncovering and leaving my shaft all wet, would suck hard forcing his cheeks go in, making me feel a weird tingle at the base of my glans.
After slowly repeating the act for some time, he let my penis swing out of his mouth, grabbed it with his covered by saliva hand, and started masturbating me again, while moving his tongue lower, over my balls.
As a knee-jerk reaction, I stretched my hand and pushed his head back, but he with his other hand removed it, which obeyed after the first shock had passed.
I could now feel his tongue stroking the sensitive skin of my scrotum coating it with his saliva, and feel my balls contracting and getting firmer with every lap of his tongue. I couldn't restrain and a big, long moan of pleasure came out of my mouth.
Tom accepted it as a sign that he was doing a good job and kept drenching both my cock and walnuts with his tongue for some time. My whole body was on fire and could feel lots of my muscles, especially those close to my groin, convulsing.
Tom was a real master of knowledge for cocks: He knew where and when to lick, to massage, to rub, to press, to kiss, or to lap with his tongue, sending immense waves of pleasure to my mind!
He would gently suckle on my glan, just as a baby suckles his thumb, and then would go all down on my shaft, then up again lapping on the meatus of the dickhead or massaging it with his thumb, and then back down to my scrotum. I was feeling my genitals coated with his saliva and was enjoying this wetness with immense joy! And then it came! As fast as a lightning!
All the muscles of my body went firm and became as hard as they could, while a strong feeling of tingling was inundating my entire body! With a strong exhalation I pushed a strong jet of white, viscid spunk out of my penis, which splashed right on Tom's face who --surprisingly-- tugged my dick a few more times, causing more jets to spring out. When the last drop of cum came out of my meatus, he stopped tugging my dick and beamed from ear to ear. He took his hand on his mouth and started licking my sperm off his hands. He looked at my surprising face and asked:
"Have you ever tasted your cum?"
I blushed a bit and admitted that I had tried a few times but thought it was gross and felt that I was doing something sick.
He laughed and said: "I used to think the same, but with time I ended up loving it. It has the most bizarre taste but it's not gross any more. Would you like to try?"
I nodded and with his hand he swept a lot of cum from my sperm coated groin and climbed a bit closer to my face.
"Open your mouth," he said gently like someone who's about to feed a baby with cream, "Open and taste it."
He brought his hand right over my opened mouth and in seconds it started dripping drops of sperm into it. Some fell on my chin and cheeks but as he put his wet fingers in my mouth, the most quantity ended on my tongue. Mechanically, I closed my mouth and engulfed his cum-coated fingers with my lips, and suckled the sperm off while swallowing it.
"Good boy," he said while smirking joyfully, "It's fun isn't it?"
I answered by suckling harder on his fingers, while he was wiping my cum off his face with his other hand and licking it off his fingers. We kept tasting the juice of my nut-balls until there was no drop left of it.
He laid his head on my chest, resting it a few moments, while gently stroking my tummy with his hand. The feeling of Tom's head and his soft hair lying on my chest was calming and soon made me relax.
"Alan," he asked, "How do you feel?"
I kept silent thinking of what to answer. I had liked the whole experience but for some reason I was afraid to admit it. Feelings that I had done something shameful were still spinning in the back of my mind. Tom probably felt my ambivalence and said:
"It's ok if you don't wanna answer. I too didn't felt much confident when I first did it. It's up to you to decide if you like it or not. I won't hate you if you don't want to see me again... though... Though I will feel a bit sad if you won't like me..."
"It's not that I don't like you..." I retorted spontaneously, "It's just that I've been told so many times that boys shouldn't do this... this sort of things with other boys. That it's sick and inappropriate... Somehow..."
"But... Do you still like me?" asked Tom sheepishly.
I thought my answer for some seconds and decided to answer honestly.
"Yes! I do like you and I do like what you just did to me... Does it always feel that joyous?"
A smile on his face had appeared; he seemed relieved and happy.
"I'm GLAD you liked it! I'm GLAD you like ME!" he said with a delighting tone on his voice.
He turned his face and now could see it better. He really looked nice with his smile. He was good-old Tom again. The boy I knew and liked from pool: Joyous, happy-looking and confident.
Tom was buoyed up and felt confident enough to drop the bomb:
"Would you... Would you like to..." he was looking up my face and down to his penis with hasty moves of his eyes, "lick mine?"
I was flabbergasted. Of course I wanted to try to lick Tom's dick, but at the same time was afraid of it, although I had dreamt of it many times in the past.
The penis at whole was always appealing to me and had fantasized my self on sucking the dick of another boy many times in the past. It was a common thing for me to do when I was feeling horny: Lie on my bed, take my dick out of the fly of my briefs and stroke it, while fantasizing that I had another boy straddled on my chest, having his long, hard-rock cock protruding out of the flies of his pants and giving me a mouthful with it.
Here I was now. Tom was giving me the opportunity to do it, this time for real, and I was sitting petrified of the thought. I was angry with my self for being such a coward! Since I wanted it and had fantasized it so many times in past, why was I feeling so ambivalent about it?
My eyes were peering at Tom's limp whopper between his thighs and my desire to put it in my mouth became stronger. Without realizing it my self I had taken my decision. I would do it! I would give Tom the same pleasure he gave to me! Besides, he has already done this --as he had said to me-- to lots of other boys in the past and as far as I know --and see--, nothing bad had happened to him. I would do it!
With a little more self-confidence I said to Tom: "Tom... Please know that this is my first time and although I want to try I'm also a bit--"
"I guess, yeah..."
"It's ok if you don't want to--"
"NO! I... I want to!... It's just that I don't know how... could you... well... guide me on how to do it?"
He nodded with a sly face and answered: "Let your boyish instinct guide you Alan. Touch it gently, you're a boy, you know how to touch it, and when it's hard enough just put your tongue on it, make it all wet, and take it in your mouth exactly as you would do with a lollipop. One thing though, no matter what, DON'T bite it!"
I laughed nervously.
"Don't laugh!" he said with a pretending annoyed voice, "A boy in the camp bite me once, he though that there would be some kind of gum or a drop of syrup in it, just like some lollipops have."
"Oh my!" I exclaimed with terror. The whole idea of someone biting your down there was extremely painful! "It's ok... I might have never done this before but I think I'm smart enough to know that `I' should never do this or want someone to do it to me... I'll be careful," I added.
"Good..." said Tom while taking his head off my chest and lying it right next to mine on the other pillow, "I trust myself in your... mouth then."
A laugh came out of my mouth. What Tom said sounded fun to me; but he was right. I would do it and would prove my self, trustful to him.
I put my hand on Tom's firm chest and fondled it with the tips of my fingers. His skin was soft and hairless. Tom of course didn't look like a muscled guy, he was too young for it; but you could clearly see that if he keep practicing and working out as he did till now, he would become a fine young man with a sturdy, firm and healthy body.
My hand went down to his abdomen and there I joyously explored the hard surface. Tom had a flat and firm stomach and soon would have some nice juvenile abs; there was no doubt about that!
For some strange reason, which I couldn't explain, I felted the urge to lick with my tongue this flat surface, which was vibrating an unexplainable allurement. Without hesitating I moved my body in the right position and pecked the skin several times. It was the first time in my life that my lips were touching another man's skin --except of course the one of the family members and relatives-- and the whole feeling was electrifying. Never before did I felt like this.
Tom's skin was warm and extremely soft, and had a very natural and pleasant odour --with a vague mixture of chlorine from the swimming pool. Without realizing it I got my tongue out and stroked Tom's belly leaving trails of saliva. Tom exhaled a pleasant sigh, which encouraged me to continue. I spend some time licking and kissing his belly, twirling my tongue inside his navel and caressing with my hand when all of sudden, my elbow accidentally touched something. I looked down, where the unknown thing was, and goggled with surprise!
Tom had a real hard-on and his penis was fully erected, looking straight up with pride. It was big as he had said and I calculated it around, from five point four, to five point six inches long, I couldn't tell for sure and it also was very fat. A real whopper!
It was very straight, not curved and had a big, fat, red mushroom on top of it with a protruding sulcus at the point when it connected to the shaft; on top of all there was a wide meatus. The shaft was almost smooth but few veins were visible at some points. Beneath of it there was a big, almost like tennis ball sized, hemispherical ball, firmly attached on the rest of the body. A small ridge separated the two walnuts, which were laid under the skin.
Tom's groin was covered with short, but bushy and curly hair, although, very few hair existed on the testicles. With small exceptions on the thighs, Tom's body was hairless like a prepubescent boy.
I realized that I had spent enough time on Tom's abdomen area and should go lower, to that vibrating, protruding, rigid meat-shaft. I took my head lower and `parked' it above Tom's fully aroused boyhood stick.
My nose smelt a weird, but pleasant aroma, which made me feel hornier. I leaned closer to the luscious pole of his and my lips touched the moisturised surface. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and plunged his penis in my mouth!
An explosion of ambivalent feelings occurred in my mind as it tried to interpret the signals that were send to it by the sensors of my tongue, which was now tasting Tom's glan.
I could not define the taste. It wasn't sweet, nor salty or sour, it was none and altogether; certainly it WAS a new, very interesting taste, which I surprisingly found nice. Guided by the desires of my body and ignoring the complains from my mind, I surrendered my self in the joyous act of sucking a boy's penis for the first time.
"Ah... Alan Don't- Hah!... Don't bite!" gasped poor Tom as my mouth went out of control and started to bite hard on the sensitive part of his body.
Carefully I contracted my jaw trying to keep my teeth apart from Tom's shaft and kept washing it with my tongue and engulfing it with my lips. Ere long, I had found a basic order of what to do: I sucked hard on his dick for a few times, then pull most of the shaft out of my mouth, suckle a bit on the glans, twirling my tongue around it and pay a lot of attention to the sulcus and the meatus, finally, sticking it back all in my mouth and repeating the action again and again.
Tom seemed enjoying the blowjob and was gasping regularly as my head was going up and down over his stick. At some point, he put his hand on my head, forcing me to stop, and with distress I separated my mouth from Tom's warmth penis.
"Try to play a little with my balls please?" he asked hastily, catching my question and at the same time pressing me head down again with his hand.
When I realized that he wasn't stopping me from enjoying his penis, but just wanted me to lick his testicles, I obeyed without a second thought. With new vigour I went down between his legs and put my tongue out, ready to explore the scrotum.
The skin down there was different, firm but extremely soft compared to the stiffness of the shaft. I started lapping his walnuts carefully --as a boy, I knew very well how sensitive this area is-- and with circled moves coating them with my warm, wet saliva. Tom's reactions were informing me that I was doing fine: He was writhing his body slowly and moaning with pleasure.
Soon enough, I had leaned that I should pay equal attention both to the shaft and the balls; so after spending some time suckling on Tom's shaft, I would move down, coat his scrotum with lots of saliva and then move back up.
"A-Alan..." gasped Tom, "You... `re doing... Ex... celent joooob--"
Tom's words sounded like a medal of honour to my ears. Like I was doing the most important task ever and carrying it out with success. Buoyed up by Tom's reaction I put more effort and speed up my tempo. Soon his breathing became quicker and his entire body was mowing and shaking.
It wasn't hard for me to understand that Tom was probably at the verge of an orgasm and would soon ejaculate his sperm. On the spur of the moment I decided to combine the actions: Since this was the first time I had a boy's cock in my mouth, it would also be the first time I would taste its semen. I rev up my rhythm, moving my head up and down, sticking Tom's dick deep in my mouth, trying to make sure that when he would cum, no drop would go waste.
"A-- Alan... I'm... going... too--" gasped Tom with quick breaths and I closed my lips as firmly as I could around his shaft while twirling my tongue around his dickhead.
Seconds later, Tom lift up his pelvis, forcing his cock as deep as he could in my mouth and with a scream released his white, creamy lava with several spurts.
The force with which the sperm spurted out of the meatus took me by surprise; never before had I imagined that there was so much power in the act of ejaculation. Of course I had ejaculated lots of times in the past, while masturbating, and saw how far or high the cum went, but still, feeling it on my tongue from such a small distance, really made me realized it.
After the last spurt, Tom's body relaxed and his pelvis softly landed on the mattress with my head following the movement as my mouth was still attached on his shaft which was now quickly losing it's firmness and becoming more flaccid with every second.
I had a mouthful with Tom's penis and a large load of warm sperm which I mechanically swallowed making a strong noise. I kept suckling on the soft penis removing all the viscous cum from it, cleaning it almost perfectly.
As Tom was catching his breath he looked down on me, enjoying the way in which I seemed so hardly attached on his penis, not willing to separate my mouth from it.
"Tha-- That's enough Alan..." he said cheerfully, "I've had one of my best given blowjobs ever! I can't believe this was our first time! You're not lying are you?"
I finally let his now flaccid penis slip out of my mouth, which landed with a splashy noise on his coated with my saliva groin. There was no sign of white cream on it. I had successfully consumed all his juice and was most pleased for it.
"Yes, I'm honest Tom! This was the first time in my life that I had a boy's stick in my mouth!" I exclaimed, "It was the best thing I had in my life and Oh my God! When I got your spunk in my mouth I felt like I was the happiest boy on earth!"
"Wow! I'm glad you like it Alan." smiled Tom, "I really do. I was afraid that you would hate it, especially cumming in your mouth. Most boys in the camp spit it, or ask me to redraw out of their mouths when I'm about to cum. They seem not to like it as I do."
"Well `I' Do like it! And want to do it again!"
"Oh my God Alan! You surprise me! You really are a naughty boy aren't you?"
I blushed for a moment. Tom had just called me a naughty boy. I wondered for a moment if that was a good or bad thing. I decided it was a good thing, smiled a bit mechanically and said:
"I dunno if I'm a naughty boy or not. But I really like what I've just done. I really do! That's all I can say..."
Tom raised his body and grabbed my hands, pulling me to lye on his body; he brought my face over his where I could feel his breathing on mine and then, with a push of his hand, he plugged my face on his, lips to lips and gave me my first kiss! It was a quick one but long enough for me to feel surprised by the unique, soft feeling from the two lips touching. Lips: how nice they feel when touching Tom's, so warm, so wet, so desirable and relaxing.
Unconsciously, driven by desire, I moved my head down again, willing to feel this feeling again on my lips and Tom, willing the same, opened his lips softly, allowing me to taste him again. We lied there, on the bed, for a couple minutes, doing nothing more than giving soft kisses to each other and forever sealing the beginning of a strong relationship.
We were both lying on Tom's bed for some time, exploring each other's bodies by touching and fondling. Soon we decided that it was time to dress up because we started to feel cold.
I looked around and spotted my briefs and vest and put them on; immediately I felt warm and happy again and kept looking for the rest of my clothes. We both dressed up a bit mechanically, like nothing had happened. Like we had just finished swimming and were dressing to go home. Still, we both had that mischievous smile on our face, marking that we were something more than just two boys who are used to dress up in the stalls of a swimming pool. When we both finished dressing, we faced each other for some time, not knowing what to do or what to say.
Tom was looking normal, cheerful and benevolent as usual, just waiting for me to say something. I, on the other hand, was all blushed on my cheeks and starring at the floor, glancing sheepishly at Tom for a second and then taking my head down again. It was Tom, who finally broke the silence.
"Alan, are you ok?" he asked with a mild and caring tone on his voice.
"I... I... I'm ok..." I mumbled.
"You sure don't look so," he answered and continued, "Alan, there's nothing to feel bad about, you didn't kill somebody, you just had... ughm... Well, you just had some... pleasure, with another boy. You see--"
"Tom... Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but don't worry; I'm not feeling any bad or something... just... Well, just a little embarrassed... Maybe..."
Strange feelings and thoughts were spinning in my mind. I couldn't understand them at the moment, but they were there --confusing me.
"Alan, it's ok to feel a bit messed up. I too recall my self feeling confused and lost in space when `I' had my first experience in sex and--"
"You mean it's normal to feel confused and lost after pleasuring my self like this?!" I exclaimed, abruptly interrupting him.
"Well... I guess so. I mean... As I was saying, I too was feeling like that when I had my first experience in sex. Thoughts like moral dilemmas, social standards and stuff like that, were poisoning my mind for sometime afterwards. Thank God, I soon realized that I wasn't doing a crime, but just having some good time with other boys by pleasuring each others." He took a deep breath and simultaneously put his right hand on my shoulder. I took up my head a bit more to look straight at his face. His words were revitalizing, giving me back my confidence.
"Alan! There's NOTHING to be afraid of. This was an experience for you. If you liked it, then I'm happy that I contributed for it, if not... Well, if not, then I'm sorry for causing you these feelings of anxiety. I won't push you to go further if you don't want, nor ask you to have sex with me again, nor abuse this knowledge of your thoughts and acts in order to blackmail or make you feel, in any way, bad for your self." He paused for a moment and added, "Do you understand what I'm saying Alan?"
Without realizing it, I was lost again in Tom's deep green emeralds that he uses for his eyes, only that for me, they were two little magical ponds calling me to willingly drown my self in them.
Oh sweet Tom! Who are you? Why are you so kind to me? Boys are supposed to be harsh and competitive; you are bigger and older than me, you should act arrogant and try to prove your manhood by depressing me, abuse me, push me down; but all you do is showing care and love, like a big brother who is protecting his younger brother from getting harm. Sure Tom, you are a different boy, not like the others and I'm caught by your mystifying personality. I wonder how I lived all these years without you--
"Hellooo! Earth calling Alan... Hellooo!"
I landed back to reality; I successfully saved my self from drowning in his green lakes again.
"Ugh... Sorry, I was thinking of something."
"Nothing bad I hope?"
I paused for a moment and answered: "Nothing bad..." I finally smiled and Tom's face went bright like an-all-sunny-day and we both cheered up. Buoyed up by his smile, I felt my previous anxiety wash away, leaving my good old self-confident self to stand up again. I had successfully, thanks to Tom's caring feelings and soothing words, regain control of my emotions. I still had ambivalent feelings for if what I had done was morally right or wrong, but I didn't feel like I had committed the worst crime ever possible; and even if I didn't want to repeat that action in the future, Tom had convinced me with his words that he wouldn't use this `moment' against me.
The tension between us was fading away rapidly, leaving two boys standing face to face to relax and think clearly. Both Tom and I were feeling relieved and were ready to step forward.
"So, I guess that we're fine then?" Said Tom in a rhetorical question and continued, "What would you like us to do next? It's almost teen p.m. Do you want me to take you home," he raised his voice mischievously, "or, would you like to sit on my soft carpet with the big pillows and let me beat he crap out of you with my Play Station?" He ended his words with a smirking face.
I thought his proposal for a few seconds and answered: "I'll take the: beating-the-crap-out-of-me option... Though, don't get surprised if the one who'll beat the crap out of you is ME!" and smiled at his face.
"Oooh... A challenge! I see... Lets get started then and see who's mummy's boy!" he said while moving towards the TV set and the Play Station.
I followed him, eager to get the joystick in my hands and prove that I can beat him in any game. Of course, at the moment I was --who knows for what reason-- overlooking the fact that he wasn't my little sister who I use to win her all the times when playing my Nintendo, but a boy who was two years older than me and seemed to manipulate electronics like they were natural parts of his body. He had lots of games --showing that he was a veteran player-- and a computer that later I found out, he could use better than professional programmers. So, I gladly accepted the huge while pillow he was pushing with his bare foot to me and sat on it, grabbing the joystick and waiting to start.
Tom start searching the scattered boxes with the games and proposed several games, which most of them where unknown to me.
"Hum... What should we play... I have this one," with his right hand up, holding a game box he showed me something that looked like a racing game, "or this one," he showed me another game, "or this and this one," and showed me more boxes with games. This went on for some minutes and for some reason I found the whole experience funny and laughed, which he noticed.
"Something funny mate?" he asked with a questioning expression.
"No, sorry. I wasn't making fun of you. It's just that... Well, most of the games you're proposing are totally unknown to me," and I let another silly laugh come out of my lungs.
"Oh... I see. Well, that's a problem. We can't just play a game that you don't know and I have played a million times before; that wouldn't be fear, now would it?"
"Ugh... I guess not, not really."
Tom took his right hand shaped as fist and put it under his chin and started thinking. First time I saw him looking so serious; he had that hush-I'm-thinking-something-serious look which magnetised me. Few seconds later he raised his head and exclaimed: "Well, then there's no reason to be competitive to each other. We'll just play some games I like and think you'll like them too. I'll help you learn them and soon you'll be able to play them as good as I do!"
"Sounds great to me Tom," I answered, "what shall we play?"
Tom took a quick peek at the scattered pile with game boxes and chose one; he opened the box, took the CD and put it in the CD-drive. He jumped up, opened the TV and landed on his pillow, making a strong puffy noise.
"I think you gonna like this one; the characters are real wackos!"
"What's the game about? What do I have to do?"
"Hold on a moment please," said Tom as he was selecting the appropriate options for a two players game, "Ok, here's the story..."
I paid attention as Tom explained to me the rules of the game and what we were supposed to do. Soon we were both playing maniacally, making a ruckus with our laughs and screams --thank God, there was nobody home.
Time passes quickly when you're having a good time and before knowing it, the clock showed eleven thirty, which meant that it was time for me to leave Tom's cosy room and return to my realm --at my house. I turned to Tom and said him so.
"It's getting late and I should be getting home soon..."
Tom turned his head and looked at the clock on the wall and then turned to look at me."
"I guess you're right Alan. You promised your mum to be home before twelve, so we better not disappoint her from the first day."
I smiled to him and stand up to my feet, while Tom flicked off the Play Station and the TV set; then he opened his closet and took a nice, deep-blue, warm-looking coat from in it and wore it quickly. He took a step to the door with me following him while zipping my Jacket. When he reached the door and grabbed the knob, he turned his head and looked at me, and with a neutral tone in his voice asked me if I was ready or if I had everything with me. I nodded that everything was all right and walked right next to him.
We start going down stairs and when we reached the ground floor and Tom was about to unlock the door with his keys, he turned and looked at me. There was a strange look on his face: a mixture of vexed sorrow and disappointment. I could not understand what was wrong and why all of sudden Tom had this transformation. He opened his mouth and said:
"Alan... How... How do you feel right now?..."
I stood still for a moment trying to understand what was going on. I realized that Tom was looking sad and for a second, I thought that maybe... maybe he was feeling bad for me and for what had happened today; and although my whole emotional status was a mess: a mixture of feelings, passions and ambivalent moral dilemmas; I knew deep inside of me that I had a wonderful day and that this whole new experience was feeling great to me. So, I decided to be honest to him and answered:
"I'm a bit confused right now but... I'm feeling good and... Happy... Yes, that's it. I feel happy..."
Tom's face went all-bright again, wearing a big smile from ear to ear.
"You really mean it?! Honest Alan, you're not mad at me or something?"
"Why should I?" I asked questioningly, raising my eyebrows a bit.
Tom blushed a bit but still looked cheerful and answered: "For... Ugh... Well, you know... for what I did to you today?..."
I stood still for a moment not knowing what to say and in no-time, I had a big blush on my face too. We looked at each other's hectic flush on our cheeks and laughed spontaneously. Tom relaxed even more and seemed to be back to his normal status.
"Alan," he said, "when we go out there, on the streets and leave you in front of your house, I might not be able to do something that I really want..."
"And what's that?" I asked, while watching Tom's face turning even more hectic.
"I... I would like to kiss you..." He paused for a moment and continued, "but your parents will probably be home and it wouldn't be good for them to see this--"
"Hell yeah!" I interrupted him.
Tom let a small laugh come out of his throat and continued: "Yes, it's better for people not to know... Most people don't approve of boys kissing other boys... Better keep it low--"
"That doesn't mean I don't want you to kiss me!" I exclaimed, not even realizing of what I had just said.
Tom froze for a moment, looking deep in my eyes as I was looking at his.
"Then..." he said while grabbing me from my shoulders with his two strong hands, and gently but in a way that I couldn't resist, pushed my back on the door and brought his head in front of mine.
I could smell his breath --which smelled nice-- and feel the emitting warmth from his blushing cheeks. I submissively opened my mouth a bit allowing Tom to plug his lips on mine --again; the wetness and softness took me by surprise.
This time Tom didn't gave me a kiss like the ones I had experienced upstairs a few hours ago. No! This time I felt his tongue invading my oral cavity and exploring it with force. Instinctively, my tongue responded and with eager, tried to taste the strange invader.
Ere long, we both got haywire and were enjoying minutes of strong passion: Tom's body was stuck on mine with our arms around each other holding tight; our tongues penetrating each other's mouth, licking and tasting making strong wet sounds; drops of saliva leaving wet trails while dripping from our chins; short, strong breaths coming out of our lungs; and our fully-erected pricks struggling inside our briefs, pressing hard each other's crotch over the clothes. It was a new experience that completely overwhelmed my body and I totally surrendered my self to it.
When Tom redraw his face a few inches away from mine and I looked at his beautiful eyes, which gazed back deep in mine, I mumbled something that came as natural as it could be, without even thinking of it: "I love you..."
Tom came closer again giving another soft kiss on my lips and answered: "I love you too..."
We stood still for a few seconds, with deep-red blushing faces, our heads only a couple of inches apart, gazing deep in each other's soul. Tom was the one who had the courage to fully disengage and took a step back. He tried to look serious and as he stepped closer again in order to unlock the door, I stepped aside in order to let him open it. He looked again at me and with a smile raised his hand and wiped the wet drops of saliva off my chin. He quickly repeated the act on his chin and we both laughed mechanically at each other.
"Shall we?" he proposed.
"Yes, Unfortunately I have to go back home," I answered.
He smiled at me and said: "Don't worry. There's always tomorrow, it's Sunday, remember? --No school! I hope you are free tomorrow? Aren't you?"
"Yes, I usually do my homework or Saturday mornings after the cartoons, so my parents let me do what ever I like on Sundays."
"Great, I do the same too, and my mum usually stays all day downstairs watching movies and soap operas, leaving me alone to do whatever I like in my room."
"You mean... we could... ugh--"
"Have sex again?"
"Yes, that's what I meant... Are you reading my mind Tom?"
"No my friend... I'm just expressing `my' desires, and I'm relieved to know now that they agree with yours."
"I meant what I said Tom, I've known you for a couple of years now, watching you at school and the swimming pool but never before had the chance to come closer and talk to you, though, after what happened today, I feel... I..."
"Yes, I know what you mean Alan, you're not the only one who's ever felt like this. It happened to me a couple of times before, don't worry. It's natural, it's called love..."
"Hush," said Tom while putting his finger across his lips, signing me to stop, "We'll talk about it tomorrow, we've got to go cause time flies."
I took a look at the clock of the kitchen --where Tom was looking-- and realized that he was right. No matter how much I desired to stay there and feel Tom's naked body on mine again and repeat what we had done this afternoon, the fact was that I had to go back home --and soon!
"You're right, let's go," I replied.
Tom opened the door and signed me to step forward; I moved out on the porch and looked around while hearing Tom following and locking the door.
The neighbourhood was silent and only a few houses had lights on --probably from televisions, because most of the lights were flickering. The air was cold but not freezing, definitely enough though to awake me a bit and bring me back to reality, back to the real world: where I was a thirteen and a half years old boy, who had a mother and a father, a little sister and a baby brother; a boy who goes to school and has no control over his life yet. Realizing this helped me to clear my mind and accept the situation with Tom and me as it was.
Tom gently tugged my shoulder with his hand, dragging me out of my thoughts.
"Let's go," he said and started walking to the garage.
Soon we were both on Tom's scooter and moving towards my house and since the distance wasn't long, we arrived in no time. He was right: He knew exactly where I live.
"This is your house? Isn't it?" he asked while pointing to my house with his finger.
"Yes," I exclaimed close to his ear so that he could hear me above the noise of the engine.
Tom slowly slowed-down, immobilizing the scooter right next to the drive of my house but without turning the engine off; I dismounted and gave him his helmet, which he wore immediately.
"Well," he said, "Here's the end of the road... for tonight..." and smiled to me.
"Yes, but there's always tomorrow... As a friend said to me."
Tom beamed to me and said: "Gimme a call tomorrow morning to meet--"
"Oh God!" I exclaimed, "I haven't got your phone number!"
"Sweet Lord, you're right... I totally forgot."
He magically took out of his pockets a small notepad and a pen (like everyone has these in his pockets) and wrote both the numbers of his house and his personal cell phone.
"Try to exclusively use the cell phone Alan, I don't like running downstairs to pick up a phone call and then explain to my mum who called me and why. You understand, don't you?" and winked his eye.
I nodded back has he gave me the sheet of paper with the numbers in my hand.
"Good night Alan," he said while taking his feet off the ground and cranking the crank.
I mumbled something that sounded like a fading `Good night' and watched Tom turning and speeding up, going back to his house, back to his room --back his cosy realm where I left for ever something precious to me: My childish innocence.
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