There are just no words that even come close. The boy was breathtakingly stunning to look at. Raven hair framing porcelain white skin with piercing blue eyes framed by the longest, blackest lashes, and perfectly symmetrical, fine features, sat atop a wonderfully slim, lithe body supported by long, slim legs. Even the way he moved matched the beauty of his looks. The fact of the matter is that, at just 12 years old and with no obvious signs of puberty, Anthony was so astonishingly good looking that schoolgirls were actually coming to his mother's front door, unannounced, uninvited, just to be in his presence! It's a fair bet that quite a few boys, and men, wished they, too, could do the same, but it was the 1970's, and such things were not only taboo, but actually criminal; worse, being outed back then was, literally, life-threatening.

It was July and the first week of the school summer holidays. As Anthony was introduced to the family of his mother's new beau, he was understandably nervous. His handshakes were rather limp – not unexpected from a boy his age and background. He'd had no clue, really, what to expect. Of course, his mother had told him about the new man in her life, and his family: 2 teenaged boys, 3 and 4 years older than himself, and a girl a year older than him. They lived in a very large, old 3-storey house with lots of bedrooms and a very large garden. It seemed to Anthony they must have plenty of money, unlike his mother. She was divorced and supported Anthony and his younger sister all on her own, living in a fairly small, 3-bedroomed Council house on a Council estate. His father had left the scene completely after the divorce a few years earlier and was delinquent in his maintenance and child support payments. Apparently, that was no surprise.

As they all greeted each other in the substantial hall of the imposing and impressive house, the elder of the 2 boys he was meeting for the first time, now, was some 6 inches taller than Anthony; slim, with slightly wavy, fair hair and bright blue eyes, and he was pleasant enough, but otherwise unremarkable. The younger brother was maybe an inch shorter than his elder sibling, but much more substantially-built and with straight, almost white-blond hair and the same bright blue eyes as his brother. He held the handshake just a little longer than his brother, and stared straight into Anthony's eyes just a little longer, too, but looked away just before it became uncomfortable. Lastly, there was the youngest of the 3, the sister. At just a year older than himself, Anthony could see she was a looker, and he liked her immediately. At the same height as himself, she had ash-blonde hair, a good figure just starting to develop, the same bright blue eyes as her brothers, and a smile that was completely genuine and lit up the huge entrance hall, but, unlike her brothers, you could certainly tell she was her father's daughter. He suspected the brothers must take their looks from their mother. He didn't know much about the woman, but he was aware she had deserted the family, disappearing completely some 7 or 8 months earlier.

After the meet and greet, Anthony and his mother and younger sister were taken on a tour of the house; it took a little while! Then, all the kids were sent out to the garden to get to know each other better while the 2 adults did what adults do.

Dinner was served in the dining room that evening. The dining table was the biggest Anthony had ever seen: with the 2 adults and 5 kids, it was only about half-occupied, despite there being generous room between each person seated. It was a full, 3-course affair, all home-cooked, and Anthony was impressed, and very full.

A short time later, when all the kids had finished cleaning up in the kitchen – after all, the 2 adults had done all the preparation and cooking – they all went to watch TV in the lounge while the adults stayed in the sitting room next to the kitchen. At about 9 o'clock, Anthony's younger sister had started to nod off on the sofa next to him and he was feeling tired himself; it had been a very long and stressful day, but a pretty good one, nonetheless. He, of course, knew they would be staying the night and, during the tour of the house, they had been shown where their bedroom was on the first floor [for you American readers out there, that's the first floor above ground – you would call it the second floor!]. Anthony and his sister would be sharing a king-size bed in the main guest room, the largest of 3, while everyone else would be up on the top floor, the two brothers sharing, the sister in her own room, and his mother and her new man sharing the last of the upper rooms. Anthony was not too happy about having to share a room, never mind a bed, with his 3 years younger sister, but it was what it was, so he simply dealt with it without any fuss. He changed into a t-shirt and shorts, wearing his underpants beneath, and climbed into bed beside his little sister. It wasn't long at all before he was sound asleep.

About an hour later, the 3 siblings of the house retired to their bedrooms, leaving the 2 adults chatting away in the sitting room.

In the room he shared with his older brother at the top of the house, the younger brother lay in bed, far from sleep. He couldn't get the impossibly beautiful boy out of his head. Each time he closed his eyes, the cinema screen on the inside of his eyelids would be filled with images of Anthony running around in the huge garden, the summer sunshine glinting off his black hair or highlighting his finely-sculpted facial features in a photo-fantasy instant, or landing on a briefly-exposed midriff as the boy twisted and turned in his playful exertions, his sweeter-than-honey treble ringing out like the most perfectly tuned instrument. The 14-year-old, just days from turning 15, was as hard as he had ever been and, for the very first time, he was leaking precum, which he quietly explored with his hand. He didn't want to risk waking his brother; in fact, though they had shared a bedroom from the day the younger brother came home from being born, they were not that close and things sexual were taboo, in society generally, in those days, but even more so at home, so the brothers never mentioned it, never mind discussed it.

Having been fully pubertal since he was Anthony's age, even before his older brother had started, the teen was at that stage where virtually every waking moment, and a great deal of sleeping moments, too, were all about sex: how to do it, how to get it, how to control it, how to keep it private, but, most of all, how to get it. Yes, I know I said that already, but that really was the most pressing thing in the teen's life, by a long, long way!

He just liked sex. He would take it any way he could get it as long as it was with someone who turned him on, boy or girl, but he knew he liked boys more than girls. When he had played Doctors and Nurses when he was younger – he remembered doing that when he was as young as 4 or 5 years old – he always preferred boys, loving the look, the feel, the taste of a cock in his hand or his mouth, and always feeling something was lacking when he was playing with a girl. However, he was 10 when he finally truly understood the significance of it all: he was gay! Of course, he also understood he had to protect himself from the rest of society, even from his own family, so he said nothing at all, and his exploration of other boys' bodies through play also ceased as part of that protection. But he couldn't stop his mind from playing with boys, or his dick driving him crazy to do the same, and virtually 5 years of nothing but his own hand was making him more and more desperate.

Out of nowhere, an idea burst into his mind. He probed it, examined it this way and that way, and he refined it. With a final review, he made up his mind. Yes, it was risky, but he believed he had covered all realistic eventualities but one; that one was down to fate and was entirely outside of his ability to control, but he deemed it worth the risk, as the reward could be everything he dreamed of.

Feeling much more awake than he thought he ought to feel, the teen lay there for the next couple of hours or so, making sure he did not make himself too comfortable in case he fell asleep: that would utterly ruin his plan. He waited, visualising his plan in action. He waited until he heard his old man and his new woman going to bed in the room next door. He waited, listening intently, until all sound from that room had ceased. And still he waited. And listened. And waited.

He estimated that at least an hour had passed since he last heard anything from next door, and he listened to his brother in the bed on the other side of the room. After listening for about another 5 minutes, and with all signs saying everyone was sound asleep, the teen very slowly and very carefully climbed out of his bed, crept to the door, opened it and left, closing it silently behind him. He knew the whole house intimately and, as part of his planning, he had envisaged every squeaky or creaky floorboard, banister or door on his route, and, clad only in his pyjamas, he silently and very carefully made his way down to the floor below, using the edges of the stairs and not the main part of them so as to avoid creaking, and he did the same on the first floor landing, thus avoiding noisy floorboards.

Such great care obviously took some time, but he finally reached the main guest room door without any sound at all. Now, he knew he would have to deal with the rattly doorknob; he was just glad the old house had been decently maintained and that the doorknob didn't squeak. Gripping the round knob firmly and pushing down to prevent it rattling, he finally began to turn it, so very slowly, so very carefully, until it would not turn any more. Only then did he give the gentlest push on the door, and he was rewarded with its slight, but totally silent opening. He gently pushed more, and the door continued its silent movement until it was open enough for him to slip into the room and silently close the door behind him. Then he stopped dead, barely breathing, and just listened, his eyes closed.

It took a minute or two for him to make out two breathing sounds, but, of course, he had no way of knowing which side of the bed Anthony was sleeping on. Brother and sister sounded like they were completely asleep. The teen opened his eyes.

It was dark, and he was too far from the bed to be able to see who was sleeping where. Silently, he carefully moved toward the bed. As he got really close, he began to be able to make out faint shapes in the gloom; the small amount of light coming around the curtains from outside made it just possible for him to distinguish shapes when really close. As his thighs ever so gently touched the bedclothes on the side of the bed, he halted, needing some time to get a grip on his short, deep, rapid breathing. To him, it sounded as loud as if he had a loudhailer to his mouth! He knew this was caused by adrenaline and it really wasn't that loud at all, but still, he needed to get a grip on it.

He could make out 2 people in the bed, but not who was who. The window was in the wall several feet on the other side of the bed, a few feet to the left, so he moved back, off the bedclothes brushing his thighs, and moved to his right, hoping to be able to see better if the 2 sleepers were backlit by the light from the window. He was right. As he reached the wall by the head of the bed, he was able to make out Anthony, face up, but, dammit, on the other side of the bed!

Slowly, silently, the teen made his way around the foot of the bed to half way up the other side, where he estimated the boy's crotch would be, and he bent over a little, carefully and gently feeling the bedclothes at the side of the bed. He found they were all tucked in from the end until about 2 feet short of the boy's head. He knew he would now have to be even more careful, more gentle than he had been so far.

He knelt on the floor and felt for the loose edge of the bedding towards the boy's head and began so gently, so slowly, tugging at it, without jerking at all, until it started to come out from between the mattress and the bed frame. Over about the next 5 minutes, he finally succeeded in freeing the bedding to at least where the boy's knees would be if he were lying flat on his back; the teen did not yet know what position the boy was in, only that his head was on the pillow, looking up but slightly towards the window, and so, the teen knew he was right in the boy's line of sight should he open his eyes.

Lifting his right hand up and over the bed, very close to the bedding, the teen very slowly and carefully moved the palm of his hand over the sleeping boy, only now and again making the softest, slightest brushing contact with the bedclothes. Without backlighting, the teen could see almost nothing at all; touch was the only sensory organ available to him for his exploration, and he concentrated completely on that, visualising every detail, every nuance of what he sensed, creating an incredibly detailed mental image. As his hand passed slowly over the bed, just for a moment, he thought he might have felt a tiny increase in the heat escaping through the bedding. He stopped and moved his hand back the way it had come and, sure enough, there was a tiny heat increase in one specific place, right where he had estimated the boy's crotch may be. He slowly moved his hand in a circle and located the central point directly above that heat source, then, so very slowly, lowered his hand straight down until he could feel the fibres from the woollen bedspread on his palm, then down again, millimetre by millimetre, until first actual contact, dead centre on his palm. That point was notably raised above its surroundings, and the teen thought – prayed – it was the boy's cock, balls or both. Holding the palm of his hand exactly where it was, he slowly relaxed it, allowing the fingers and palm to fall slowly until he felt a lump in the bedding; it's location and its contours were an exact match with his mental image of the boy's genitals. And Anthony never stirred, nor did his breathing change in the slightest at this lightest of contacts. "YES!" shouted the teen, inside his head, of course.

He lifted his hand straight up and withdrew it, being careful to bring it straight back, perpendicular to the bed frame in order to preserve the location in his head. He moved his hand straight down the side of the bed to where he had untucked the bedding at that point, then moved it up inside the bedding, feeling every millimetre as he went, up to the top corner of the mattress, then slowly, so slowly out across the mattress top in the direction of the boy's groin, being careful to cause the least possible disturbance of the bedding that was in contact with the boy.

He paused a couple of times to control his breathing, but, with his arm inside the bed past his elbow, now, he knew he didn't have far to go at all. He also knew he would have to be extremely careful not to suddenly bump his hand into the boy, and that, when he was really close, he'd have to somehow get his hand up and over the boy's hips or thighs in order to get to his target.

His breathing now under control again, he restarted, fingers closed and hand flat on the sheet, fingertips aimed at the boy. A couple more inches, and he felt the top sheet starting to rise to accommodate the boy. The teen now softly raised his hand so that the back of it slid along the top sheet with the lightest possible contact. Suddenly, he could feel the boy's heat and knew he must be extremely close indeed. Another 2 inches, and the tip of his middle finger barely touched some material; he didn't know what it was, but he knew it definitely was not bedding; it was too smooth, too sheer. He slowly moved his hand right, towards the boy's feet and, after a few inches, he felt a sewn seam and an edge on that sheer material. In the teen's mind, he saw a pair of shorts. The shorts in those days were actually short, unlike the horrible, long, baggy crap they wear today. God, I miss short shorts!

The teen followed the seam upward, knowing he was seriously close to his goal and, with any luck, the shorts would allow him easy access. As his hand rose, he found more and more that he had to actually lift the bedding as he went, and he was concerned about disturbing Anthony. However, he was so close, he could not back out now.

Still moving very slowly, making sure not to make any sudden or jerky moves, the teen continued to follow the seam, determined to achieve his goal. Another inch of lift left his hand free to slide slowly forward and slightly left, still tracking that seam. A couple of inches, and he felt it dipping downwards, and the body heat dramatically increased. The material felt loose, as if it was not against the boy's thigh, but sticking up above it. Keeping his palm where it was, the teen used his fingertips to gently feel straight down from the edge of the seam, and he found there was substantially more than an inch of a gap between the material and the skin of the boy's thigh, and the material was very loose.

Slowly, slowly, he moved his hand to his right and turned it until his fingers were pointing into the gap. As he moved his hand into it, he was amazed at the heat increase, and now there could be no doubt that he was on the verge of hitting his target. The next thing the teen felt was his fingers softly brushing a new material instead of the boy's groin! "FUCK!" he screamed inside his head. "He's wearing his underpants!"

After a moment's disappointment and frustration, the teen was still determined to continue. His feather-light fingertip exploration discovered the boy was wearing y-fronts; this was only to be expected in those days. As he continued, he realised that they, too, were baggy, and this encouraged him. He eased a fingertip under the loose, elasticated leg opening in the Y-fronts, and lifted until he felt the material starting to pull. Using his thumb to hold it there, he got his fingers underneath it, so now he could ease his thumb in, too, and he could slide his whole hand in if he wanted.

The tip of his middle finger felt the slightest contact with skin. The teen stopped and listened to the boy's breathing: no change, so he continued. He used the back of his hand to lift the easily-yielding material of both the shorts and the y-fronts up and away, gently placing them down by the other thigh, resulting in the full exposure of the boy's genitals under the bedclothes. Rotating his hand until his fingers pointed towards the boy's head, the teen now slowly, gently laid his hand straight down, his palm touching down on the boy's scrotum and his fingers on his dick, which was pointing towards his lower stomach, in perfect alignment with the teen's fingers. It felt incredible! The scrotum and its contents were a perfect fit in his palm and his dick was two-thirds of the length of his middle finger; even with this lightest of contacts, he could feel each of the boy's balls, and it was clear they were in the very earliest stage of pubertal growth. The boy's dick was uncut and still soft.

Little by little, he increased the weight of the contact, monitoring the boy's breathing the whole time. When he still detected no change, he wrapped his fingers around the boy's dick, gently feeling its shape, its texture, its heat: he guessed it was maybe 2 inches soft and about the thickness of his little finger. He unwrapped his fingers and slowly traced them down to the boy's scrotum, envisioning every last detail and painting it into his mental image as he ran his fingertips all over the smooth, loose sac. He then moved back up to Anthony's dick and was surprised to feel it hardening, extending its girth and length very quickly, until it was about 3 inches long and now about as thick as his middle finger, steel-hardness covered in a soft layer, and a lot hotter than before. The foreskin still covered the head, but he could now feel the head's ridge as he felt Anthony's dick all over: it still wasn't long enough or heavy enough to lie on his lower belly, so it lay there with the head probably a quarter-inch above.

The teen tried to pull the foreskin back to expose the head, but it resisted, so, using just his forefinger and thumb, he gently pulled it back and forth several times, trying to loosen everything up, then he tried to draw it back again and, this time, he succeeded. The head was dry, no sign of any moisture at all, certainly not precum. "God, I want to suck it!" he thought to himself.

As he figured out what he had to do to achieve that, he realised his own dick was leaking like a tap with a bad washer, and he was amazed: he'd had no idea he could produce so much fluid without peeing or cumming! He also realised he must be making quite a mess in his pyjama trousers, and he had no way to explain it if anyone saw it, so he got his dick out through the fly, and he checked the end to see how wet it was. He got a hell of a shock when his fingers touched the bare head: not only was it thoroughly slick, but that touch almost exploded inside him, causing his hips to jerk and a grunt to almost explode from his throat. He had never felt anything so powerful, and he loved it, he wanted more! But his desire to suck Anthony was more powerful, and he reasserted his self-control and set about trying to make that happen.

Keeping hold of Anthony's dick, and still being extremely careful not to make any sudden moves or jerk the bedding, the teen slowly rose up on his knees and inserted his left hand under the bedding and gently moved it forward, lifting the bedding high enough for him to get his head and shoulders inside, but it was too tightly and closely tucked in under the mattress to his right to do that, and he knew he could not succeed with this. He stopped to reassess, and a new idea came to him. He focused all his attention on his hearing again and held that for at least 30 seconds in an effort to make sure he was hearing everything and interpreting it correctly. There was absolutely no sign that Anthony had been disturbed; he was sound asleep.

Reluctantly, he let go his hold on the boy's dick, withdrew his hand, and now used both hands to softly lift the bedding and push it up and back over Anthony to expose his whole crotch area completely to the air, while trying to keep the rest of the boy covered as much as possible. A moment later, it seemed a cloud moved away from the full moon outside and the teen could see well enough to make out a good amount of detail, but not enough to see colours. Anthony's entire lower stomach, crotch and upper thighs were fully exposed, fully accessible!

The teen's heart skipped a beat and his lungs missed a breath in that moment, and the vision was imprinted in his memory so deeply it would last a lifetime! Just like the rest of the boy: unspeakably beautiful! The teen was also astounded that the mental image he had created using his sense of touch was perfect, a true copy of the reality before his eyes! He'd had no idea that was possible, but here was the proof!

His thinking mind reasserted itself and he set about going for goal. He hadn't sucked any cock for years, and he really needed to do it now! Reaching both hands out, he cupped Anthony's balls with his right and picked up his dick with his left until it was vertical. He took a few moments to savour all the sensations, very gently rolling the boy's balls and feeling every contour; softly feeling all over his dick, and even his soft, bald pubis, so soft and smooth it was an attraction in its own right, especially with that little groove in it, right at the base of his dick; watching the head of his dick slowly appear and disappear, over and over, as he moved the foreskin up and down. The teen was mesmerised.

He leaned over, his head getting closer and closer, going straight for it. Directly over it, he paused to draw in a lungful of air, and he smelled boy, straight from its source. It was the first in a very long time, and he savoured it, completely, lost in memory for a few moments. He moved his head down until his lips touched the little bit of wrinkled foreskin, and he licked at the little pucker, dead centre, moistening it, penetrating it, working it open, then pushed down again, gripping the foreskin with his lips at the same time as keeping it open with his tongue, and, maintaining that technique, he peeled it back and engulfed Anthony's whole dick, drawing his foreskin back as he did so until the entire head was exposed to the heat and texture of his lips, his mouth, his tongue, all the way until his nose was buried in the skin to the side of the boy's bald pubis. He wrapped his tongue around his new friend, sucked hard and slowly pulled back up its length, stopping when he felt the head's ridge just inside his lips, and then he sucked really hard, feeling the head swell, and, lips tightly sealed around it, pressing hard on the head, he sharply lifted his head to let it pop out of his mouth, then dived straight back on and down again, repeating, then back down again and up, but this time, not letting the head pop out. Instead, still sucking hard, he teased it, his tongue tip probing the underside of the ridge, into the pee hole, and strumming his banjo, licking along, around and over the fraenum, the little piece of skin in the cleft of the underside of the head.

Still feeling Anthony's balls and stimulating his dick, the teen lifted off to give his jaw a brief rest before he resumed. As he lifted, he looked at Anthony to check his breathing. He never got the chance.

An instant after the teen looked, Anthony's head lifted off the pillow, his eyes looking straight down his body to where the teen had his hands on the boy. The teen instinctively froze, but just for an instant. His mind now working at the speed of light, it took him just another instant to realize it was too late, he'd been caught in the act, and he thought he might as well carry on, so that's just what he did, his eyes locked on Anthony to gauge his reaction while he continued playing with his genitals.

An instant after this, Anthony turned his gaze to the teen. The look in his face was deadpan: no anger, no fear, no panic, just nothing at all. The teen immediately let go of Anthony's bits and moved up the side of the bed, leaned right in, his mouth at the boy's ear.

"It's okay, Anthony, you don't have to be scared, I'm not going to hurt you," he said in the quietest possible whisper straight into the boy's ear. "Please keep quiet, we don't want to wake your sister, okay?" The teen pulled back to look at the boy for his response. His face still showed no distress of any description, remaining deadpan, but he didn't respond to the teen at all.

Leaning back in, the teen again whispered in his ear.

"Like I said, we don't want to wake your sister, but I'd like to continue, if that's okay?"

Keeping their eyes locked, the teen immediately took hold of Anthony's dick and gave it a little squeeze. The boy looked at his groin for a moment, then straight back to the teen's eyes; still there was no sign of distress of any kind, but still there was also no response.

The teen whispered into his ear again.

"If you're very careful and very quiet, you could get out of bed and onto the floor; that way, we won't wake her, as long as we stay quiet. Okay?"

The teen now gently fondled the boy's balls and his dick at the same time, watching intently for the boy's response. There was none at all. Anthony's expression never altered, and his eyes never left the teen's. The teen was both frustrated and confused: he had no idea what was going on in Anthony's head, whether he wanted to continue or not, or even if he was about to make a huge scene and get him in trouble! He had no idea what to do, so he continued fondling the boy in the hope that he was enjoying it, but prepared to stop altogether if that's what he wanted.

It seemed like ages, but was actually just a very few seconds, then Anthony, without a word, slowly and carefully, trying not to disturb his sister, climbed out of the bed, the teen standing and moving away slightly to give him room, and stood by the teen, looking up into his eyes, still saying nothing, still deadpan, not moving at all.

Still confused, but still hopeful, the teen again took hold of the boy's genitals, fondling him, and whispered into the boy's ear.

"If we both get down on the floor, your sister won't be able to see us if she does wake up."

The teen got down on his knees, eyes still locked on the boy's, his hand still playing with his bits. To his great surprise and pleasure, Anthony followed suit just a moment later, but his movement forced the teen to let go of his bits. Now up on his knees on the floor, just a foot away from the teen in the same position, Anthony still maintained that deadpan look, but never spoke a word, just kept his eyes locked on the teen's.

The teen reached out and took hold of Anthony's junk again, gently caressing and stroking. Anthony's eyes followed the initial reach, then watched what the teen was doing, still saying nothing.

This was all the confirmation the teen needed that the boy was consenting. He shuffled a little closer on his knees, took hold of the waistband of the boy's shorts and underwear at the same time, looked into his eyes and gave a little tug downward. Another deadpan look and no response, so the teen pulled them down to the boy's knees on the floor, then did the same with his own pyjama bottoms, letting the boy see him for the first time. Still silent and deadpan. The teen took hold of the boy's junk again, and used his left hand to take hold of the boy's right wrist and gently pull it towards his own dick, clearly signalling what he wanted the boy to do. About halfway to his dick, the boy pulled his arm back. He obviously was not ready to go there yet, but he certainly wouldn't take his eyes of it. Disappointed, the teen nodded his acknowledgement to the boy, whose eyes briefly looked at that nod, then returned to the teen's dick.

Still playing with the boy's junk, the teen leaned in close and whispered in his ear for him to turn around and go down on all fours. There was no hesitation at all; he did exactly what was asked of him. In a couple of seconds, the teen was faced with a spectacularly beautiful sight: 12-year-old Anthony was in front of him on all fours, presenting the most beautiful arse the teen had ever seen, it's small pucker with its surround darker than the other skin around it, fully visible in monochrome in the low light, the boy's legs closed at the knees, but still showing a small gap at the top, through which the back of his slightly hanging balls could just be seen.

The teen revelled in that view; another imprinted lifelong memory. He moved forward on his knees and started feeling all over that stunning arse, lost in the look and the feel of it, lost in his own sensations for the next few seconds. Then he ran his hands down to the boy's knees and tapped the outside of them both at the same time, making Anthony look back at him over his shoulder. The teen lifted his hands so the boy could see them and signalled for him to open his legs at the knees, mouthing the word 'open' at the same time. Anthony's head returned to its previous position, facing forward and, a moment later, he opened his knees a little, maybe about four inches apart. It wasn't enough for the teen, so he tapped the inside of the boy's knees to signal to open more, and he kept on doing that until Anthony's knees were about a foot apart.

The teen now scooted closer again, right up to Anthony's arse. He reached his right hand down and forward between the boy's open legs and took hold of his balls, gently fondling them, while he used his left hand to feel all over the boy's arse again, including, this time, making sure he also made full contact with his pucker, initially, just sliding over it. He felt it contract a little at that touch, then relax again, as Anthony turned his head again to look, this time under his armpit. Obviously, in that position, he could not see what the teen was doing to his arse, but he could definitely see what the teen was doing to his balls. At just that same moment, the teen switched from playing with his balls to playing with his dick, this producing a little spasm in the boy, which the teen also observed in his pucker. He was intrigued. He took some of his copious precum and smeared it over and around Anthony's pucker. He felt the boy's dick suddenly swell slightly. As the teen switched to properly wanking the boy with a thumb and 2 fingers, he also pressed the flat of his index finger against the boy's pucker and felt the response in his dick. He squeezed his own dick at the base, and ran the squeeze up the shaft to the head, and scooped up the pretty large amount of precum there, smeared it onto the boy's pucker and covered his own middle finger with it, repeatedly pressing on the boy's pucker in the process, each time producing the same little spasm as before in the boy's dick.

The teen was about to do something he'd never done before. He took a moment to control his breathing and focus, then put the end of his middle finger directly onto the pucker and gently pushed. He felt the boy's dick twitch again, but nothing else happened. He pushed a little harder. Still only a cock twitch. He pushed even harder, but still only a cock twitch. He stopped to consider this. A couple of seconds later, still wanking the boy, he leaned over and to the side of the boy and whispered as loud as he dared.

"You have to relax, let it happen, if you don't, it'll hurt and I don't want that!"

He saw Anthony's head turn towards him, then away again when he'd finished, so he knew the boy had heard him. Now it was up to Anthony.

The teen tried again. This time, he could feel the boy's pucker was more relaxed, not so firm, as he gently tried to push his slick middle finger in, but it still would not go in. However, this time, he had felt the inner part of the outside of the pucker [if that makes sense] wrap around the first couple of millimetres of the end of his finger. He had not felt that before, and he took it as a good sign that Anthony was trying to relax and let him in. He tried again, more firmly this time, and he felt a little bit more of that wraparound than before, so he pushed even harder and, for some reason, also added a bit of a twist on his finger – and, suddenly, it went in up to his first knuckle! He was amazed at the heat, but more so at what he could feel as he gently moved the end of his finger around: at his first knuckle, he could feel Anthony's sphincter holding onto him, initially clamping then relaxing; from the knuckle forward, he could feel what was just about the softest thing he'd ever felt wrapping around his finger, a bit like warm, wet, soft tissue paper. As he explored a little more, right on the end of his finger, he felt something much firmer, almost hard. Eventually, he realised it was another sphincter; this was something he had not known existed before now. As he gently pushed against it, he felt it close against him. He was completely fascinated.

Now more determined than ever, he put the tip of his finger against the second sphincter, and he twisted and pushed just like he'd done with the outer one. Before he knew it, he felt it give and, suddenly, the entire length of his finger was inside Anthony, right up to the big knuckles! Once again, he was astonished at the even greater heat, and his finger was wrapped even more by that same warm, softness as before. After a few moments getting his head around these new sensations, the teen started slowly withdrawing his finger until he felt the inner sphincter, then pushing back in, then out, repeating, and he coined what to him was a new phrase: he was 'finger-fucking' Anthony's arse! He kept this up for a few minutes, reaching around the boy with his left hand and wanking him at the same time.

He was so focused on these new experiences that, at first, he did not realise his own dick was lightly rubbing its length on Anthony's left thigh as his actions caused his own body to move slightly with the rhythm. Eventually, the sensations that was generating in him intruded and, just as he looked down at his dick, Anthony's head again turned to look, over his shoulder. A moment later, without warning, Anthony adjusted his position so he could keep his balance as he lifted his left hand off the floor and reached back. The teen was disappointed for a moment, thinking the boy was about to push him away. Instead, the boy's hand gingerly took hold of the teen's dick and lifted it off his thigh, then just stopped, doing nothing.

The teen had watched this as soon as Anthony had started to move. The instant the boy had touched his dick, the teen had been unable to hold back the gasp that escaped his lips. There he was, possibly the most beautiful boy he had ever seen on all fours in front of him, one hand finger-fucking his arse and the other wanking the boy, and now that boy was holding his dick! The teen could hardly believe it. His heart was racing, his breathing almost deafening, and, after some 5 years of being 'hand-raised', this was happening! It was a dream, a fantasy, coming true! But he wanted more.

Anthony still had not moved his hand at all; it just held the teen's dick off his thigh, and nothing more. The teen thrust his hips forward, pushing his dick through the boy's hand, then pulling it back and thrusting again, his eyes locked on the boy's, trying to convey what he wanted the boy to do. Anthony's deadpan expression was still his only response. Nothing changed.

The frustrated teen let go of the boy's dick, placed his hand on the boy's, the one holding the teen's dick, held it firmly, but not hard, and moved the boy's hand up and down his dick several times, showing Anthony exactly what he wanted, then he stopped and let go of the boy's hand, hoping he would continue himself. He didn't. The teen again took the boy's hand and now moved it from his dick onto his balls, cupping them, releasing them, gently kneading them, releasing them, and again let the boy's hand go, hoping he would continue by himself. Once again, he didn't. The teen simply did not understand why Anthony would not do anything. It was the boy who had grabbed his dick entirely of his own accord. It was the boy who, when his hand was released, chose not to remove it from either the teen's dick or his balls, but would not wank or fondle him. The teen just didn't get it at all. It made no sense to him, and he had no idea how to proceed. Unable to think of anything else, he removed his finger from Anthony's arse, moved up beside him and put his mouth to the boy's ear, whispering.

"What's wrong? Why won't you do me?"

Silence.

"Come on, Anthony, tell me what's wrong. I'm not going to hurt you, you can trust me, but I don't understand!"

Silence again, but only for a second or two.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"What we're doing. I don't want to get caught. I'm not a poof! I like girls."

The teen considered for a moment.

"I like girls, too, but I like this as well. You don't have to be scared. There's nothing to be scared of. We won't get caught as long as we're quiet."

Same old deadpan look and silence. The teen tried a new tack.

"You know a lot of the bigger boys do this, don't you? Even some grown men do it! They all just have to keep it secret. So do we. A secret just between us. It doesn't make us queer, it's because we don't have girlfriends to do it for us."

The teen knew this wasn't strictly true, but he genuinely thought it would allow Anthony to feel better about it all and about himself.

For several seconds, the only response from Anthony was the same old deadpan look and silence, not the slightest move, but the teen could sense the boy processing what he'd just been told, and trying to reach a decision based on the new information. The teen tried one more argument.

"Ask yourself this, Anthony: does it hurt or does it feel good? Do you like what I was doing at your bum? Or what I was doing to your cock? If it feels good, and no one's being hurt, then what the hell is wrong with that? Why shouldn't you do it? What the hell is wrong with two friends helping each other? We are friends, aren't we?"

Anthony considered this for a few seconds, then, he just nodded. The teen knew instantly he'd just agreed to continue; his heart leapt and he almost cheered, but he managed to suppress it and control himself.

"So," he whispered, "did you like me playing with your cock, or what I was doing to your bum?"

"Both."

"Good! Now, I haven't lied to you and I haven't hurt you. Do you trust me?" Anthony nodded.

"Excellent! Trust me now, because what you've felt so far is nothing compared to what you're about to feel! I promise you it's wonderful! Okay?"

Again, the boy nodded.

The teen asked him to lie flat on his back. He did. The teen then straddled him, his knees either side of the boy's upper stomach and lower chest, keeping his weight off the boy, whose eyes immediately locked onto the teen's hard cock just a few inches away and pointing straight at his face. The teen reached behind with his left hand, groping the boy, caressing his balls and bringing his now soft cock back to life in seconds. He then used his right hand to gently take hold of the boy's right wrist and pull it towards his own 5-inch dripping cock. This time, Anthony did not pull away, did not resist. The very instant the back of his fingers touched the hot skin of the teen's cock, the boy took hold of it in a full-hand grip. The teen, still holding his wrist, moved his hand back and forth along the shaft a couple of times, then let go. What utter joy! Anthony kept up the movement all by himself! A couple of minutes later, still wanking the boy, the teen used his free hand again to put the boy's left hand on his own balls, getting him to stroke them, fondle them, caress them. The teen was in ecstasy. After a few minutes, the teen held the boy's hand a little tighter on his cock, and moved it a little faster. Anthony understood and continued accordingly. The teen made a similar adjustment to what he was doing to the boy.

A few minutes later, the teen could feel he was approaching his good times. He didn't want that just yet; instead, he wanted to cum in either Anthony's mouth or, for the first time in his life, inside his arse. The teen was still a virgin, and the thought of fucking was very attractive, but very new to him, and he was really unsure of himself. If he had Anthony suck him off, the teen knew what he'd be getting, and he knew he'd love it: he'd always loved sucking and being sucked, but, the last time he'd been able to do it, 5 years earlier, he had not yet hit puberty and could only dry-cum, so, in that respect, doing it now would be a new experience, but he still wanted to lose his virginity, too. The only thing was, right now, he knew he really didn't have very much time, certainly not enough to cum twice, first in Anthony's mouth, then in his arse, because the longer he was here in this situation, the greater the chance of them being caught. So, reluctantly, he made his decision.

Staying astride Anthony, the teen shuffled closer to the boy's face until his cock almost touched his lips, but Anthony turned his head away, although he did not let go his grip. The teen let go of the boy's dick and leaned down to his ear.

"Please suck it! It doesn't smell and it doesn't taste bad, maybe a little salty and a little sweet at the same time, but that's all! It's no different from sucking your thumb, really! And it feels really good in your mouth, too!"

Anthony, looking in the teens eyes, still kept his head turned away, his face deadpan as always.

"Do you play with yours?" the teen asked.

Deadpan only.

"Do you wank?"

A moment's hesitation, then the boy nodded.

"Have you cum, yet?"

Anthony shook his head.

"Have you got to the really good feeling?"

He shook his head again.

"Do you know what I'm talking about?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. So, how about this: if you suck me, I swear I'll suck you, too, and I'll make sure you get your first really good feeling. It's like nothing you can even imagine. Once you get that feeling, it's so wonderful that you'll want it again and again for the rest of your life! Deal?"

Anthony removed his hand from the teen's balls and waved him to come closer. The teen understood he had something to say, so he did as asked.

"Does it hurt?" asked the boy.

"No! Not at all! It just feels totally awesome!"

"Will you ... will you squirt ... in my mouth?"

"Do you want me to?"

Anthony shook his head hard.

"Then I won't! You have my word!"

Anthony considered for a few seconds, then simply nodded his head just once.

Again, the teen felt like shouting for joy, but again he controlled it. He placed the end of his cock on Anthony's now upturned lips, waiting for the boy to open up. He saw and heard the boy take a long sniff and, a second later, his lips pursed outwards a little, then retracted, almost like he had just kissed the teen's cock. Another couple of seconds, and Anthony's lips pursed out again, this time a little more than the first, and staying that way for longer. The next thing the teen knew, the tip of Anthony's tongue touched the end of his dick, sending electricity coursing through him, then the feeling was gone, just like the boy's tongue, but he kept his lips pursed. A few seconds later, the teen was thrilled and shocked with pleasure as Anthony's lips slid over his cock head, the boy's jaw opening wide to accommodate it, but his teeth scraping slightly. The teen leaned forward quickly, pulling his cock from the boy's mouth.

"No teeth, just your lips and tongue!"

The teen sat back up and watched as Anthony figured it out in his head, then looked back at the teen, who then pushed his cock back to the boy's lips, and Anthony pursed, opened and lifted his head to take the offered cock into his mouth. No teeth, this time. However, the boy did not move his head back and forth; instead, he went to work with his lips, rubbing them all around the head all the way to the back of its ridge, and he used his tongue, too, all over and around.

The teen's head went back, eyes closed, his breathing shallow and rapid, doing his utmost not to grunt or groan at the pleasure he was experiencing. He knew he couldn't last long like this, but he wanted the boy to do it better. He looked down at him and reached out to take a firm but gentle hold of the back of Anthony's head and pull it up, onto his cock, careful no to go too far and choke the boy. Then he alternated letting the boy's head go back and pulling it forward, showing Anthony just what he wanted. When he let go the boy's head, the teen was pleased that he kept up the movement, still using his lips and tongue, but only going about an inch down the shaft. Right now, that was enough for the teen. About a minute later, he felt his orgasm approaching again, and he knew it would only take another 2 or 3 strokes to push him over the edge, so he stopped Anthony, pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and leaned over.

"I told you I wouldn't squirt, or cum, as it's called, in your mouth, and I keep my word! So, what did you think? Did you like it?"

"You were right about it being a bit salty and sweet, but that was OK. That sticky stuff, was that sperm?"

"No, that's only what's called precum; it's a natural lubricant for fucking. You can't fuck if everything's dry, or it causes injuries. And sperm is a bit saltier, usually, but still sweet, too."

"You were wrong about it not smelling. It does, but only a little, and it's not bad."

"So, did you like sucking my cock? Would you do it again some other time?"

"It's OK, and yes, but only if you keep your promise to suck mine and give me those good feelings everyone talks about!"

The teen grinned hugely.

"Good boy. Now, your turn. Trust me?"

A moment's hesitation, then Anthony nodded.

The teen moved from being astride and shuffled on his knees until he was alongside the boy's thighs. He put his hand and forearm under the boy's knees and lifted them high, then shuffled in behind, using both hands to separate the boy's knees and place his legs back down on the floor, splayed open on either side of him. Looking into Anthony's eyes, the teen reached his hand out, palming the boy's balls and fingering his cock. It had never softened since the boy had admitted he was scared and the teen had reassured him, still steel-hard, still pointing up towards the boy's belly. The teen lifted it and examined it the best he could in the poor light. No bends or twists, it was perfectly-formed. It was beautiful. The teen leaned forward and down. Still playing with the boy's balls, the teen again used the technique he'd used while the boy was sleeping, knowing this was the boy's first time, that he knew of, having his cock sucked, so he was determined to make it truly memorable. Lips pursed, he touched onto the wrinkled pucker of foreskin, took hold of it with his lips and pushed the tip of his tongue in to open the foreskin, then sucked a little and pushed down all the way to the base of the boy's cock, peeling the foreskin back in the process and tonguing the head until his nose was in the little groove in the boy's hairless pubis at the base of his cock. Anthony emitted a tiny grunt and thrust his hips, trying to push his cock deeper. The teen stayed there, sucking in a lungful of air to catch the boy's scent. It was faint, but wonderful, eliciting old memories, but familiar and really missed. Boy!

As Anthony's hips went back down, the teen sealed his lips on the boy's cock, sucked hard and went back up, his lips catching slightly on the coronal ridge and passing it, until it all popped out, then dived right back on again, his lips and tongue working hard all the way to the base again, then repeating, but not letting the head pop out. Instead, he sucked hard on the head, feeling it expand in his mouth, tonguing it rapidly and hard, then back down again, lips and tongue working furiously. Going up and down repeatedly, the teen used variations in pressure, also tonguing the ridge, the urethral opening and the fraenum, doing his best to fulfil his promise to give the boy his very first orgasm. Over the next few minutes, Anthony's responses slowly grew in their vigour, from twitches and shudders to pelvic jerks and thrusts, accompanied now and then with little gasps and the occasional little grunt. His efforts at suppressing the noise were only partially successful as he entered this new world of sex.

The teen monitored the boy's reactions closely, learning as he went what got him going and what really sent him into paradise, and adjusted accordingly to provide the greatest stimulation and pleasure, never releasing the boy's cock from his mouth in the process, despite his aching jaw and numbing lips. When he knew the boy was getting close, he removed his right hand from the boy's balls and really slicked his middle finger with his saliva, knowing he would soon need it.

A few more strokes with his mouth, and he felt Anthony's tension build up really quickly, especially in his balls, which tightened up suddenly. Maintaining his oral efforts, the teen reached his hand down, parted Anthony's arse cheeks and quickly, but carefully, inserted his slick finger into the boy's arse, all the way, and wiggled. Anthony's hips suddenly jerked up off the floor and he could not totally suppress the quiet, long, drawn-out groan that escaped his throat. His hips stayed up for a long second, then dropped and started bucking, his body trying to expel his non-existent semen, his face contorting with both the effort and the intense pleasure never before felt, or even imagined, by him.

The teen let the boy enjoy the full duration of his pleasure, his hips fucking the teen's mouth, battering the end of the teen's nose with his bare pubis with each thrust, and slowly, little by little, his paroxysms eased off, and his hips settled back down on the floor, his breathing laboured, head turned to his right and his eyes closed as he started to recover from these new exertions that no part of his body was at all used to. The teen waited for Anthony to settle and come back to reality.

When Anthony's head turned back and he looked at him, the teen removed his mouth from the boy's cock and his finger from his arse, and leaned forward until his head was by the boy's ear. This, of course, resulted in the teen's hard, dripping cock pressing down onto the boy's, sending pleasure shocks through the teen.

"I keep my promises!" the teen whispered into Anthony's ear. "So, did you enjoy it?"

Anthony's only response was a nod. He had no words.

"You want more?"

Anthony nodded again, more vigorously.

"Are you ready now, 'cos it's my turn! I want us both to cum together, at the same time. Are you okay with that?"

A moment's hesitation, and the boy nodded again.

"Okay! Trust me?"

Anthony nodded again.

The teen moved back down the boy, returning to the same position as before, and was amazed that Anthony was still rock hard! He lifted the boy's legs until they were hooked by the knees over the teen's shoulders, fully exposing the boy's pucker. Slicking his right middle and index fingers liberally with his saliva, the teen spread the saliva on and around the boy's pucker, getting more from his mouth and using that to ensure the boy was thoroughly lubricated, then he gathered more saliva on his middle finger and touched it to the boy's pucker, teasing on and around it, making sure the boy knew what was coming, hoping he'd relax and let it happen. He put his fingertip to the pucker and repeated the slight twist and push that had worked so well before, and his finger slid in effortlessly. He looked at Anthony and saw no pain, no distress, just his usual deadpan expression.

Now the teen wrapped his left arm around the outside of the boy's right thigh and started playing with his cock and balls. He slowly stroked his right middle finger in and out, finger-fucking the boy again. This time, however, he moved the tip of his finger to feel around inside, and he noticed a small firm spot there. As he checked it out, Anthony's hips jerked and he gasped. The teen had no idea about the prostate and its effects; back in those days, such things were just not talked about at all. He knew only that Anthony seemed to enjoy it, so he gently rubbed it again, resulting in the same gasp and jerk from the boy. Now, the teen pressed more firmly and wiggled his finger on the little lump. Anthony's head shot up off the floor, staring wide-eyed at the teen, his hips bucking hard, his cock jerking hard in the teen's hand.

"What was that?!" whispered the boy.

The teen shrugged his shoulders.

"Feel good?"

Anthony nodded fast.

"Trust!" whispered the teen.

Anthony lay back on the floor.

The teen desperately wanted to lose his virginity and, right here, right now, he could not think of a better opportunity. His head loaded with hormones, his 5 year abstinence weighed heavily, and he decided to throw caution to the wind, but not quite completely. He knew the boy's pucker was tight; too tight, right now, to accommodate his cock. His thumb was thicker than his middle finger, so he slicked it with saliva, withdrew his finger and replaced it with his thumb. It was effortless, so he continued to use it, giving a gentle pull on the boy's sphincter now and again, trying to open it more. He genuinely did not want to hurt Anthony at all. A couple of minutes like that, and he knew he needed to open the boy more.

He withdrew his thumb, really slicked up both his middle and index fingers and inserted his middle finger again, moving it around to open the boy more. Withdrawing that finger until only the tip was in the boy, the teen slowly, little by little, pushed his index finger in to join the middle one. He felt Anthony's sphincter clamp as he just got the tip in, but then it relaxed again, and the teen slowly, gently, inserted both fingers, then just held them still, allowing the boy to get used to it. After a minute, he used the tips of both fingers to find the little lump and he rubbed firmly on it. Anthony's hips bucked again and he gasped, his cock jerking hard, but there were no protests from the boy, no attempt to remove the intruders. The teen rotated both fingers back and forth, inserted right up to his big knuckles, feeling around inside the boy, catching that little lump now and again. He estimated that together, the parts of those fingers nearest the big knuckles, were actually thicker than his hard cock was, just, so he reasoned that, if he could get the boy used to that girth, he really should not have a problem with getting his cock in. He spent about 5 minutes feeling around inside the boy, relaxing his sphincters (outer and inner) and sending pleasure shocks through the boy by rubbing on that small lump inside, wanking the boy all the while. Now he reckoned it was time.

"Remember to relax!" he whispered.

Anthony nodded. It seemed to the teen that the boy knew what was about to happen.

The teen removed his fingers and heavily coated his cock with his saliva, and lined the head up with the boy's pucker, touching it, then gently pushing against it. It felt good, but nothing happened. He pushed harder. Still nothing happened. He used his right hand to grab his cock tightly around the base, feeling it harden up greatly, then lined it up again, pushed onto his target and pushed, increasing the pressure fairly quickly. Suddenly, he felt the head go in past the first sphincter and the boy grunted. The teen looked at him, but there was no sign that he'd hurt him. He pushed again, feeling the resistance from the inner muscle, then that was gone and the head of his cock was properly inside the boy! The heat was even more incredible on his cock head than it had been on his finger, and the sensation of that really soft, warm flesh inside wrapping itself on him was beyond words! He waited, holding still, savouring the moment and allowing Anthony to adjust to the new feelings.

The teen now knew he could not possibly last very long like this, so he started pushing into the boy, inch by inch, until the base of his cock was right up against the boy's flesh and, once more, he held still for a short time. Now, he looked straight into Anthony's eyes and watched as he withdrew his cock from the boy's arse until only the head remained inside, then slowly, still, pushed back in to the hilt, all of his 5 inches buried in the increasingly hot, enveloping grip of the boy's body. And he realised he had just lost his virginity. To a stunningly gorgeous boy! Then almost all thought left him as he proceeded to fuck this beautiful boy, slowly, at first, watching Anthony's face the whole time, wanking him at the same time, knowing he would remember this until his dying day. As his own rhythm speeded up, so did his hand on the boy's cock. As his thrusting got harder, so did his grip on the boy's cock. A couple of times, his cock popped out of the boy, but he effortlessly reinserted it and carried on, adjusting for the length of his stroke to keep it in there.

As he felt himself nearing orgasm, he paused for a moment to really slick his entire left hand with saliva, then used that to wank the boy's cock, the skin of his hand directly on the boy's cock head without the intervention of his foreskin, while he continued fucking him. Anthony's physical responses were increasing, and the teen really hoped he could get all the timing right so that they both could cum at the same time.

Now he started rabbiting the boy, his short, rapid thrusts matching the actions of his thumb and forefinger encircling the boy's cock. Monitoring the boy's face and his jerks and thrusts, the teen, never missing a stroke, now used his right hand to hold and pull down the boy's balls until they would pull no more and, with a final effort, slammed his cock into the boy in full-length thrusts until his body jerked, his hips almost glued themselves to the boy and he exploded, now feeling the boy's sphincter repeatedly clamping and releasing on his cock as he poured his semen into him, the muscle milking him and prolonging his own orgasm, it's power and duration never before experienced by him, transporting him to heights of sensation, pleasure and joy he never knew possible until now. Right now, he had no thoughts of the boy, only for himself.

As his senses slowly returned, he found himself slumped on top of Anthony, face on his chest, still buried inside him, and gasping for breath. It only took a moment for his senses to return sufficiently for him to start thinking of the boy. He lifted his head and looked at him.

"Wow! You came too! Perfect! Are you OK?"

Anthony looked at the teen, deadpan as usual, just for a moment, then he blew the teen away with the first crack in that mask: the little smile he gave as he nodded was simply, stunningly breathtaking! But it only lasted for the briefest moment before his deadpan expression resumed.

"You're still in me." the boy whispered.

"Mmh hmm! I love it!"

"I'm tired. It's late." replied the boy.

Disappointed, the teen seriously did not want to move. The feel of his cock still inside the boy was one he did not want to stop; he was in a warm, wonderful place, and he wanted to stay like that forever. But, alas, he knew he couldn't, and he knew the boy was not used to any of this, especially being wakened in the early hours when he was accustomed to sleeping through the night. Now, he started thinking again. There were certain practical realities he knew he would have to deal with, realities he knew only in theory, but he also knew the boy would not likely know himself. Reluctantly, he knew he had to separate himself from Anthony and help him to deal with what happened next. He looked again at the boy.

"When I pull out, you're going to leak. Don't want a mess. Clamp your cheeks hard, use your hand, follow me down to the toilet, quietly!"

Anthony hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He understood the teen's instructions, but really didn't know just what to expect.

The teen gently pulled his hips back to disengage his cock from the boy. His now rapidly deflating cock meant little movement was required. The moment he was out, he squeezed the boy's buttocks together and waited until he felt them being clamped hard as he'd instructed.

He stood and helped the boy get up, whispering in his ear to keep his cheeks clamped really tight, use his hand if he had to, then the teen helped him put his underpants and shorts back on, pulled his own pyjama bottoms back on, and he led the way to the door, opened it quietly, let Anthony go through first, then followed him onto the landing, closing the door silently behind him, and they both made their way down to the ground floor toilet, closing the door behind them, the teen switching on the light.

He told Anthony to sit on the toilet and push as if he was having a dump. The boy dropped his shorts and underpants and, for the very first time, the teen got to see the boy in almost all his awesome, natural beauty: he still had his t-shirt on. The teen was completely stunned, but wanted to see the boy completely naked in the light. His cock started rising again.

The very moment the boy sat on the toilet, the teen's semen poured out of him, plopping in the water as it hit. The look on the boy's face was priceless: he'd obviously had no clue how much semen a teenager could produce! When he was sure it was all out, the boy stood and reached for the toilet paper to clean himself with.

"Here, let me." said the teen, and he drew several sheets from the roll, had the boy turn around and bend over, then he cleaned his arse for him. He couldn't help but examine it closely in the light, couldn't help seeing in his mind's eye where he had been and what he had done, what he'd just minutes before experienced. The boy's pucker was still partially open from the teen's intrusion, and he was amazed to see it still slowly closing even as he watched. He waited, watching until it closed. Once again, it was perfect, undamaged, undistorted. Beautiful!

When bent over the toilet, supporting himself by his hands on the wall, Anthony realised that the teen was no longer cleaning him up, but doing nothing at all. He looked over his shoulder and watched the teen just staring at his arse.

"What are you doing?"

Startled out of his trance, the teen looked at the boy and smiled.

"Your arse is absolutely beautiful, perfect now – just like you are!"

Anthony blushed deeply at the compliment.

"Are ... are you ... queer?" he hesitantly asked the teen.

The teen lifted his hand and caressed the boy's buttocks gently, tenderly, while he thought about how to answer. Then he used his thumb to stroke the boy's pucker, and Anthony's eyes closed, his head lifted and he sighed with the pleasure.

"I like sex, wherever and however I can get it. If that makes me queer, OK, I've no choice about that, but so what, as long as I'm hurting no one?"

Anthony had never heard of anything like that. His knowledge of such things was limited to queer or straight; it had never occurred to him there could be something else, something in between. The teen's words certainly made him think.

"You didn't hurt me; well, a little, when you first put your cock in my arse! And I really enjoyed how you made me feel, both times. They both felt different, but just as good in their own way. I know I'm supposed to be disgusted by what we did, but I don't feel bad at all. I really enjoyed it! You hear all the stories about sex, how it feels so good you can't get enough, but I think no one can really get it until they've felt it themselves. Now I get it. Or got it – twice! Thank you!"

For only the second time, and now in full light, Anthony smiled that smile, and it took the teen's breath away, his heart literally skipping a beat!

"Are you finished back there?" asked the boy.

"No, I'll never be finished!"

Without thinking, purely instinctively, the teen leaned in and kissed the boy's pucker, a long, lingering, tender, loving kiss. Anthony's back arched, his head snapped back, his eyes closed, and he let out a long, low groan which stopped only when the teen withdrew, leaving the boy once again gasping for breath. The teen was shocked at what he had just done. Kissing someone's arse! Until now, it had never even occurred to him to do such a gross thing! Now that he had done it, though, he knew that, for Anthony, he would certainly do it again! How could he not love every beautiful square inch of this boy?!

He looked up, somewhat sheepishly, and watched the boy come back down from that brief high.

"I did that!" he thought.

It was then the teen realised, for the very first time, that he got great pleasure from giving pleasure! He wanted more, needed more. A lot more! He stood up and, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, had him stand up and turn to face him, and both sets of eyes locked onto each other.

"I've now seen all of you. Would you like to see all of me?"

The boy silently nodded. The teen turned his back and removed his pyjama top, then the bottoms, and stood there completely naked, his back to the boy.

Anthony watched the teen strip, impressed by his broad shoulders and the rippling muscles that he could see under a very slight layer of fat. As he examined the teen's body, he realised just how much more mature the teen was than himself, wondered at what a difference 3 years could make, and he felt a little insecure, knowing this was almost a man while he was still just a boy who hadn't even started puberty yet. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off the teen, admiring his hard, toned buttocks and his well-muscled legs. Then the teen turned to face him.

The boy resisted the temptation to look straight at his dick. He thought the teen had quite a handsome face and he thought his white-blond hair was beautiful; it was much finer than his own black hair. His gaze moved down the teen's body. From the neck down, the teen had a very nice build, his chest and stomach muscles starting to develop and show up more like a man's. Anthony was all too well aware that he had no muscles to speak of at all, and he wondered if he, too, would grow like the teen had. He continued his visual examination and, now, he could not avoid looking at the teen's groin.

A small thatch of blond pubic hair grew just above his dick. Anthony noticed the teen was hard again, and he smiled. His own cock was hard again, too.

"I can't help it! You do that to me!" said the teen, grinning.

Anthony noted how big the teen's cock was and wondered how the hell he had taken that in his arse without pain! It wasn't so much it's length as how thick it was!

He also couldn't believe how hairy and big the teen's balls were and how low they hung.

"No wonder he squirted so much inside me!" he thought.

Lower down, just like from the rear, the boy was impressed at how heavily muscled the teen's legs were, and hairy, too! Now he looked back up to the teen's face.

"Have you seen all you want?" asked the teen.

"You've seen my arse; I haven't seen yours."

"OK, that's fair."

The teen turned around and bent over, clasping his ankles with his hands. The boy went down on his knees, his face now level with the teen's arse.

"It's hairy!"

The teen just chuckled slightly. The next thing he knew, Anthony was stroking his pucker and, now, the teen understood what had given the boy the shivers and jerks when he had played with his! The teen had never felt this before. He loved it! The boy stroked and circled it, toying with it. Then he just stopped, and the teen missed it. Suddenly, he felt the boy's wet finger pushing into his hole! Just like the boy, the teen's automatic reaction was to clamp up, but then he deliberately relaxed and allowed Anthony to do what he wanted. To his surprise, it felt good! He could feel the boy's small, slender finger moving gently inside him and he hoped it felt as good to the boy as the boy had felt to him. He wondered if the boy would find that little lump inside him, too. It had obviously given the boy really good feelings, and the teen wanted to feel that himself. It wasn't to be: the boy's fingers were just too small to hit that spot. Then he felt his sphincter stretch for the first time as he felt what he knew was the boy pushing 2 fingers inside him. He felt a tiny sting, so he relaxed more and slightly pushed down on his insides, and the sting disappeared immediately.

"It's really hot and soft." said the boy.

The teen was intrigued, wondering if the boy was enjoying himself. He wanted to fuck the boy again; his dick was now leaking again, and it had never felt as hard is it now did.

"I let you do me. Can I do you, too?"

There was an undertone to the boy's voice as he shyly asked the question: a mixture of hesitation, shyness, excitement, and even a little fear. The teen thought about it for a moment. He had no problem with that idea or with the machismo side of things, and he knew for sure the boy's cock was not big enough to hurt him.

"Go for it!" he told the boy.

He got down on all fours, but quickly realised his arse was too high for the boy, so he lay down on his back, pulled his knees up and told the boy to get down and for him to adjust the teen's position and get it just right to get his cock in. The teen watched the boy intently as he positioned himself on his knees behind the teen's upraised legs, a hand on the back of each of his knees, pushing and adjusting to get his 'angle of attack' just right. When the boy looked him in the eye, questioningly, the teen nodded, letting the boy know to go ahead.

Anthony lined his cock up and pushed. Nothing happened. He looked at the teen, who whispered, "Harder."

The boy lined up again and pushed, but still nothing happened. He pushed harder. Still nothing. As the teen saw him go for another try, he pushed on his insides, just like he'd told the boy earlier. In a heartbeat, Anthony was inside the teen, full length, such as it was, and he stopped, stayed still and looked at the teen with wide eyes.

"It's so hot and soft!"

The teen just smiled and nodded. A few seconds later, the boy started a slow withdrawal, stopping when only his cock head was still inside, being gripped by the teen's sphincter, then slowly pushing back in. Once again, he looked at the teen, his eyes wide.

"Awesome!"

The teen's smile became a grin. Of course, he could feel the pressure and movement of the boy, but he felt nothing else, physically; the boy's cock was just too small to reach that lump inside, or to give him any other good feelings. However, he was thoroughly enjoying giving Anthony his pleasure. As he relaxed, he began to dream of being fucked by a larger cock, one attached to Anthony when he was a little older and bigger due to puberty, and this is what gave him gratification over the next several minutes as the boy pleasured himself.

Anthony quite quickly found his rhythm, the length of his cock dictating short and fast. He didn't care about that; his only thoughts were of how wonderful this felt: the heat, the friction, the thrill of fucking a much bigger boy! He got so much into what he was feeling that nothing else existed in his mind, his thoughts completely focused on getting that ultimate good feeling. He didn't even notice how hot he was getting, or the sweat trickling down his back, or his lungs labouring harder and harder. As his tension mounted, he took hold of the teen's balls, right there in front of him, just above where his cock was rapidly fucking the teen. He rolled them, felt them, together and separately, pushed on them, pulled on them, then his hand moved to the teen's cock and started wanking it furiously as his own passion climbed and climbed.

Suddenly, he felt a constriction on his cock as he pushed it in hard and slapped his balls against the teen's arse, and he looked down to see the teen shooting semen onto his chest and belly, each shot coinciding with each grip on his own cock, and this drove him over the edge. He slammed his cock into the teen, groaning with his maximal effort to get deeper, and he felt his own rapid contractions as he poured his phantom seed inside the teen. He was totally lost in himself.

Maybe 20 seconds later, the boy had collapsed on top of the teen, trapping the teen's semen between their hot bodies, both of them struggling for air and wallowing in their post-climactic bliss. In falling forward onto the teen, the boy's cock had slipped out of the teen's arse and now lay nestled against it, softening.

The teen reached for Anthony and held him in his arms, adoring the feel of him, the warmth of him, the smell of him, the thought of him. Yet another memory for life!

Several seconds later, Anthony took the lead for the first time. He lifted his head and looked at the teen's face, then he slid up the teen's body, aided by the slippery mess between them, and planted a long, tender kiss on the teen's lips.

"Thank you!" he said, softly, then laid his chin down on the teen's shoulder, their faces cheek to cheek.

The teen was blown away by the strength of the emotion in Anthony's kiss and in his words.

"You're more than welcome, anytime! I was your first, wasn't I?"

"Mmh hmm."

"You know, you were my first, too! So, thank you, too!"

Anthony turned his head and lifted up on his hands to look at the teen.

"Really?!"

The teen nodded and smiled.

"You know you're really beautiful, don't you?"

"You mean handsome, don't you?"

"No," replied the teen, "some guys are handsome, some are plain, a few are just ugly, but you – you're beautiful!"

Anthony blushed.

"So, if I was your first, how come you know so much – what to do, I mean?"

"Don't know; I suppose I just did to you what I wanted someone to do to me; or, maybe, it's just instinct. You'll find out once you hit puberty! Then, you won't be able to stop the thoughts, the ideas, the dreams, the images in your head – or getting a hardon at the most inappropriate and awkward times, especially when you're not even thinking about sex! You know, one time, I was sitting next to this absolutely gorgeous boy in biology; I never got any of the lesson, 'cos all I could think of was him, how good he smelled and having sex with him, and I actually came in my underpants without even touching my dick once!"

"Eeewww!"

"Yeah, awkward, right?! That's puberty for you! Just you wait!"

Just then, Anthony looked down his torso at the sticky mess there.

"It's all sticky, and it's all over me!"

"It's all over me, too!"

The boy slowly raised his belly off the teen, peeling their skin apart, then sat up, astride the teen on his upper thighs. Looking down at his flat stomach, he touched a finger to the drying cum there, a look of curiosity on his face. The teen was curious about what Anthony would do next.

"We need to clean up," said Anthony.

"Yeah, and I need my sleep; so do you – but I don't want to stop. I want to stay with you, but we can't. We've been at this for so long now, we're just lucky we've not been caught! So, let's get cleaned up and go to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning. Or, maybe that should be later this morning!"

Anthony nodded his agreement. As much as he really meant what he'd said about wanting to stay with the boy, the teen got up from the bathroom floor, wet a washcloth and proceeded to wipe the boy down all over, making sure there was no trace left of their activities, then rinsed out the washcloth and had Anthony return the favour. By the time they were both finished and dry, both were hard yet again.

"Looks like you want to stay with me, too!" chuckled the teen.

Anthony looked into his eyes.

"Yeah."

The teen was totally surprised by that. It took him a moment to stop dreaming what could be and force his mind back to reality. He reached to Anthony, who went into his arms without hesitation, and their mutual hug was pregnant with emotion, each one knowing it could not last forever and that they had to separate, at least for now, both fervently wishing it was not so.

On the landing outside the main guest bedroom door, the teen took hold of Anthony once again and kissed him on the lips. As they kissed each other passionately, the boy grabbed the teen's hard dick through his pyjama trousers and rubbed it a little. The teen returned the favour. A minute later, they both disengaged, looked each other straight in the eye, then Anthony turned around without a word, silently opened the door, entered and closed it. Knowing he really had no choice, hating it, the teen quietly went up to his own room and got into bed.

In less than 5 minutes, both were sound asleep. Maybe, just maybe, their dreams were of each other.

Epilogue

That was almost the last chance the two had to be alone together. Four years later, the boy had passed his exams and was an apprentice, and the teen had left home altogether, having gone to university.

He went home for his old man's wedding to the boy's mother. On the night before the wedding, the now 16-year-old and 19-year old shared what had been the bedroom of he and his brother. Neither youth spoke of the events of 3 year ago. There was a slight awkwardness about the two of them.

Late that night, when everyone in the very full house had gone to bed, the older youth tried a repeat of the events of 3 years previously, approaching the younger one in his sleep.

He got as far as holding the youth's hard dick and trying to wank him, only to find out he suffered from phimosis, now, and he was unable to draw back the youth's foreskin at all. Not realising that at first, he certainly tried, but pulled hard enough to cause the youth pain, and the boy's hand stopped him

"No." said the younger youth, gently, caringly, but definitively.

The next day, the couple got married and stayed married until the old man died many decades later.

The wedding day was the last time the teen and the boy ever saw each other.

Both are now several decades older, and the former teen only has the fondest, most beautiful memories of that time, all too short, when he and the boy both lost their virginities. He hopes the boy does, too.

Author's note:

This is my first published story, and I hope you enjoy it.

Constructive criticism is always appreciated, but please, no flames!

Send to:  iliad_001@yahoo.com