Important fact number one: A person who thinks he's drowning is stronger than he looks, and that's why you should get into the water with him only as a last resort. The best ideas are to throw him a rope, or to hold a big stick out for him to grab, or to just row out in a boat.
Obviously though, all those better ideas weren't applicable, so fact number two is: If somebody goes under right in front of you, instinct will take over. Although I did know that it could be risky.
And it sure was. When he pulled me under, I'm surprised my life didn't start flashing by. Only this brings up fact number one again. I wasn't in an all-out panic, but I was at least close, so that caused an exponential increase of my strength. Later on, Earl said I almost yanked his arm out of its socket.
Once safely ashore, at first we were just getting our shit together and not concerned about anything else. Sitting side by side holding onto each other was nice, but I wasn't thinking about where that might lead because I was feeling relieved and proud of myself. It's not every day you get to be a hero and expecting something in return would have detracted from the feeling. And Earl was feeling a bit embarrassed. He was grateful and relieved and all that, but...
After awhile he said, “I'm sorry I panicked. ... I can swim some... well, dog paddle, but when I went under, I lost my head. ... But I guess I scared you too, huh?”
“Well... a little,” I admitted. “But it's okay. We both made it out and that's all that matters.”
And so there I was feeling noble... and then I decided to dive for our clothes... only no luck on that... so we were in a predicament, but I still wanted to be honorable, so that kept my hormones in check for awhile. And of course being eaten alive by mosquitoes isn't conducive to feeling horny either.
But then I spotted the Cutter floating not too far away, so I swam out and retrieved it, swam back, tossed it to Earl and after he sprayed himself down, we started working on getting the boat out of the water. It didn't take long, I pushed from behind and he pulled. It had a chain in front attached to a small anchor and also two paddles, so I guessed we'd just row it back across and then we could worry about getting home.
Only as he was turning the boat over to dump the water out, almost off-hand he said, “I know a place down at the end of the lake... It's an abandoned house. I've been there before, so it ought to be cool enough, so what I was thinking was, we could stay there till dark, then we can try to get home. That sound like a good idea?”
So, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could, I said, “Now that you mention it, yeah. ... But are we going to try going there in the boat?”
“Well, I think it's a slow leak, and after going to this much trouble, it makes sense. We'll just stay close to the shore and hope we don't see anybody fishing or anything.”
So I shrugged and said I guessed we'd just have to keep our fingers crossed. But I didn't mention that I also hoped we could somehow manage not to have hard-ons while we were rowing across. Because if by chance we did happen upon someone else...
Well, that person would almost certainly jump to some conclusions. I started getting a boner right after I caught that slight hitch in his voice again. So that's what I meant by him being “almost” off-hand and me trying to sound nonchalant, but since his was also starting to straighten out again, and since what he was saying was, we were going to be in that house for the rest of the day naked, I don't know why we even bothered. Trying to act nonchalant, I mean.
Only he didn't mention his condition, and by the time we were out on the water – him earnestly rowing and me sort of prayerfully trying to help all I could by paddling with my hands – we were both limp again. We had at least a mile to go and understandably we were nervous. In fact, by the time we were coming up on the first slight bend, I'd decided to sit in the bottom of the boat. Up on the seat, I felt very exposed. Only Earl was still up on his seat because he had to be... so he was still exposed... so it wouldn't look right to anyone we might happen across... so my stomach was in knots... and then I happened to notice that we were sinking.
Trying not to sound overly-concerned, I remarked, “Know what? We don't have a small leak, we got a big one.”
“I know,” Earl replied grimly, “so paddle harder.”
... “I don't think that's helping too much. ... So when are we going to abandon ship?”
“I'd just as soon not. Got any other ideas?”
I could understand why he wasn't all that keen on getting back into the water, so after thinking about it, I said, “Well, maybe it won't take on water quite as fast if I get out. If it's shallow enough to wade, I'll try pushing. ... That'll probably be better than me trying to paddle with my hands anyway.”
As it turned out, the water was up to my chest, so I guess that was about the optimum depth, because I was mostly pushing straight in front of me, and it did seem as though we were moving faster, but I was also fairly sure I was going to have some sore muscles after it was over. It was very much like isometrics, and it was tough going.
It was, because in addition to all that, I was looking directly at his middle. While we'd been in the boat I'd tried to avoid any lingering glances, but now it was unavoidable. It wasn't that I didn't want to look at his dick, it was just that I didn't want to be paying too much attention to it until we had some privacy. Once inside that abandoned house – if we ever got there – I'd have plenty of chances to look and if I popped another, it would probably be because he'd popped one too.
Although I still had no idea what he had in mind. I had the impression that he had something in mind – and I'd enjoy it, I was sure of that – but what? I was no expert, but it seemed to me that even straight kids my age could be up for some playing around – up to a point, but I was still hesitant to stray beyond the limits the other boy had in mind. Sean, Stephan, Carlie and now Earl. They led and I followed, always hoping for more, but it was their call.
Only now I was staring fixedly at his middle. I was trying to pretend that it was only because it was directly in my line of sight, that it was of some interest, and I also wanted to be matter-of-fact about it, but I was still getting hard again. He had a very nice dick. Short and stubby, but fairly big around. The fact that he was still hairless somehow made it seem more interesting. Nice, plump balls too. I liked watching them move around as he put everything he had into rowing. Oh good. Now I'm hard as a brick. Way to go!
I'd known him for a little more than an hour. So just because we'd matter-of-factly compared sizes, just because I'd saved his life, that didn't mean I could stare at him and get a raging hard-on. And this time, it didn't seem inclined to go back down. I could see that house up ahead – at last – but that meant the water was getting shallower. So on one hand it was, “Thank you Jesus,” and on the other it was, “Oh shit!” I started getting red-faced in spite of myself.
Earl grinned wryly. Knowingly, in fact. “You're making me get hard again,” he said, and sure enough...
“Well, you're directly in my line of sight,” I stammered.
“So I didn't say it was a bad thing, I was just stating a fact, that's all. Don't worry about it. Just the way things are, it's not like there's much we can do about it. Know what I mean?”
I wasn't sure if I did or not, but he didn't seem to be laughing at me, so I answered, “I guess. ... `Cause it seems to be contagious.”
“Well, that's cool. ... I guess. ... Sorry. Just had to say that, but anyway, I'm always popping one. ... What's the weirdest... no, wait. What I mean is, where was the most unlikely place you ever popped one?”
Is he trying to put me at ease? Sounds like it. Well, that's cool... I shrugged. The water was getting progressively shallower, but before my erection popped into sight above the boat, I ventured, “Oh, I don't know. One time I was in a taxi and I'm not sure what caused it... maybe we hit a pot hole, I don't know, but whatever, it was a beauty. I sure wasn't trying to send any messages to the driver, but it was stuck! It wouldn't go down for nothing!” (And just as soon as that bit about sending a message popped out, I started wondering if now Earl was going to think I was trying to send him one.) (To be honest, I'm not sure if I was or not.)
I probably was, though.
“Lots of times the only way it'll go down on its own is if you stop thinking about it. Except it's not possible to not think about it, you ever notice that?”
He made that observation only an instant or so before my erection came into sight above the end of the boat. So if anything, I blushed a little more, but... “Yeah, I've noticed.”
Earl giggled. “So you must be thinking about it right now then. ... Nice one, Nathaniel!”
We must have been quite a sight, pulling the boat up onshore, turning it over, wrapping the chain around a tree... we were all business, but all the while, we were both stiff as we could be. So apparently, our throttles were stuck even if we weren't talking about them. No, Earl said, “I'll tell you something, if you hadn't got out and pushed, we might not have made it. ... At least not with the boat, so I'm glad that's taken care of. You sore?”
... “What? You mean sore muscles? I'll probably be sore all over by tomorrow.”
“Well, when we get inside, I'll give you a rub down. Maybe that'll help.”
Foreplay? We gonna have some of that? I started, “Well, yeah, it probably would, but-”
And I was going to mention that he probably had sore muscles as well, but as we started up towards the house, he rushed on, “Nobody's lived here since 1934. Reason I know is because there's a calendar in what used to be the kitchen. Still got some furniture in there too. It was back during the Dust Bowl. You couldn't grow anything, so people just left and never looked back.” Then with a creak, he pushed the front door open, and...
Well, it was interesting – there was an old bed stand and some broken down chairs, some books were strewn across the floor, a naked doll with one blue eye – so under normal circumstances I could have been looking around for quite awhile.
“There's a storm cellar out back,” he added, “but without a light... well... over here's a good place, so just lay down on your stomach and I'll see what I can do about those sore muscles, all right?”
I'm sure I was shaking a little the first time me and Sean jerked each other off, but that was mostly nervous anticipation. I was definitely shaking when I crawled into Stephan's sleeping bag, but that was because I was crazy about him. And I'm sure I had a few bouts with the shakes in Carlie's case, but a lot of that was because of all the crazy things we were doing. Well, it was also about playing sex games, because it's exciting, but I swear, when I got into position on the floor, I was shaking all over. So I guess it was nervous anticipation all right, only in this case...
One, I didn't know how far things were going, I had no idea, but two was the simple fact that we would be there for the rest of the day. And I'm not sure about this, but possibly a third factor was that I hardly even knew him. Not that I'd known Carlie all that long before he got me out of my clothes, but the circumstances were different, because it was more like a dare game. And another thing about Carlie was that in no time at all, I felt like I'd known him almost forever, but I didn't know much of anything about Earl. But in spite of that, I had the feeling that I was on the verge of going to a place I'd never been before.
And I was right.
Maybe it had a lot to do with our positions, me on my tummy with my eyes shut and him straddling me. I could feel his knees pressed against my hips and I definitely felt his fingers. And he was good at it, it was a legitimate rub-down. At least for the most part, it was. He started at the back of my neck, then he moved down to my shoulders, kneading, pulling, slapping a little... so okay, I guess it was a legitimate rub-down, but whatever, it felt good. I was almost starting to relax, in fact. The anticipation was there, and there was no denying that it was erotic, but at first that came mostly from the realization that I was trusting him completely, that he could go any place he wanted. Only as his fingers methodically moved down my back, it also felt erotic simply because it was. It was a sensual, relaxed feeling. He was humming softly under his breath, but he just kept working his way down, lower and lower.
But of course I was wondering if he was going to do my butt that way. I don't think butt rubbing is a part of a professional rub-down - unless you're talking about one of those massage parlors, in which case I suppose it would be an integral part of it – but needless to say, whether that was something a legitimate masseur would do or not, I was hoping he would. So when he moved his position straddling me down to around my knees, I was full of breathless anticipation. Would he, or wouldn't he?
He did, without any hesitation at all. There was no rush, he just kept moving his fingers down, slowly and steadily, but finally, he reached my ass. He didn't change his rhythm, he just kept slowly and sensually kneading and pulling and it felt wonderful. Of course it did, because kneading and pulling on one's ass cheeks means they're being pulled apart from time to time. So that was sensual to the nth degree. Nobody had ever messed with my butt like that before. Both Stephan and Carlie had felt it, they'd even squeezed it – and of course I returned the gesture – but this was something else entirely! And that was before he finished by running a finger down my crack, over my little puckered mound, and right on down to my perineum and then to my balls. He just barely rubbed there – and unfortunately, my dick was pointed up towards my belly button at that time – but still, it almost took my breath away. So while he was kneading and pulling on my butt, I only thought things had reached the nth degree, this really was it.
But then he moved on down to my inner thighs. And it's still a fairly major erogenous zone, but that's when he laughed quietly and said, “If somebody was to walk in on us, they'd think we were gay, sure as the world.” (Pause.) “So are you?”
Just like that, and for a few seconds, I didn't know what to say.
Only he was still working his way down. Well, actually he'd moved to the outside of my thighs, but he hadn't broken his rhythm, and he was talking softly, so it didn't really sound like he was trying to drag a confession out of me...
Although if it's a confession you're wanting, his method is very effective. “It's not going to blow my mind if you are, okay? I'm just asking, that's all.” And he kept rubbing and kneading.
I had this ringing sound in my ears. That's the way it is with me, when I'm scared to do something, but I have to eventually, so I might as well get it over with, but at any rate, I heard myself say, “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Cool.” He was still working his way down my legs. He never paused at all, just, “Cool.”
But that certainly sounded encouraging, so I started, “So... you're cool with me being gay, but... well, are you... um... well...”
“Am I gay too?”
“Well, yeah. ... That's what I was going to ask. ... Trying to, anyway. And sooner or later, I probably would've... But are you?”
By that time, he was kneeling beside me, working on my calves. “Yeah, by now, I'd have to say I am. That bother you?”
“Not... No, it doesn't bother me at all. ... Or at least not in a negative sense, it doesn't-” (small, slightly euphoric giggle) - “any, but... oh shit! I'm ticklish... there!” (He was working on the sole of my left foot.)
“Oh, really? Well, how about your right foot?”
Needless to say, the sole of my right foot was equally ticklish, so that ended my rubdown. Or at least what I guessed was the first part of it. Only before having my front rubbed down, I thought that I should rub on his backside for awhile. We had all day, so there was no sense in rushing things.
I'd sneaked several quick feels of Carlie's ass, and they lived up to my expectations. And I'd certainly gotten an awfully good feel of Stephan's. Not bare, but in just our boxers, it still didn't leave much to my imagination, and because that was my first prolonged, really sensual feel ever, it was a wonderful thing. Only in my imagination, bare would have been ever so much better. It seems that I'm always wanting just a little more.
Or a great deal more. That's closer to the truth. Sort of like the summer I was eleven when we were at Banff National Park. It was awesome. No matter how many pictures you might have seen, no matter how many travel films – whether in stunning HD or not – nothing can compare to actually being there. Only the whole time, we mostly stayed at the hotel. And while Château Lake Louise really is like a fairy tale-type castle, and Lake Louise was something to see, and the mountains surrounding us were spectacular, I wanted to see more. I wanted to travel the length of the Icefields Parkway. In fact, I wanted to take the bicycle tour. All one-hundred and forty-two miles of it, seeing one extravagantly beautiful vista after another, past craggy peaks topped by glaciers, massive waterfalls and turquoise green lakes flanked by deep spruce and fir forests. And not only that, but as I continued reading to my mom from the brochure, we'd have a guide, a support trailer was provided along with meals and accommodations and the average mileage would only be a gentle thirty miles a day. So honestly, doesn't that sound like the trip of a lifetime?
Well, to her, it didn't. Even though she was always going on about physical fitness, (along with a lot of kooky new-age stuff), all she wanted to do that week was lounge at the spa or at the pool and all my dad wanted to do was play golf. So to say the least, I was a bit put out. I mean, Lake Louise was beautiful (and turquoise green and flanked by spruce and fir) but I wanted more!
And as for what that has to do with me and Earl... well, I was trying to draw an analogy, that no matter how much you've read about doing it – any of it – no matter how much you've fantasized, it still can't compare to being right on the verge. Of what, I had no idea, but before the day was over, it seemed likely that we'd be doing all sorts of things to each other, because after all, we were both gay, right? We'd admitted it to each other... and we were naked and would stay that way for the rest of the day... and we were thirteen and it seemed that he was just as horny as I was...
So right, several new “somethings” seemed to be right around the corner.
Starting with his butt, for instance. Being able to rub on it for as long as I wanted, that alone was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I gave the rest of him a fairly thorough rub down, but I saved his butt for last. First, I worked on his shoulders and his back, then I detoured to his feet (and only tickled them a little), and from there, I moved up. So by the time I finally got to his inner thighs, we were both getting pretty breathless.
Then I reached his soft twin globes and I could have spent ages on them. It was almost like I was working with bread dough, kneading and pulling and patting to my heart's content. I particularly liked pulling his cheeks apart.
Then it was time to run a couple of fingers down into his crack and he seemed to be enjoying that as well. So since he'd rubbed across my hole, I saw no reason not to do the same, only I pushed in a little with my thumb. I was just teasing, but even though my thumb went no further than his sphincter muscle and no deeper, it was still a lot further than I was expecting.
And he was startled as well. He jerked and I after I hurriedly pulled my thumb away, he squeaked, “You just made me lose it!”
Well, I thought that was a little premature, but I didn't have any room to talk, because I promptly lost it myself. I felt it jerk, so there was no question about it. (So I suppose I can safely surmise that if Stephan had really pushed his hands down inside my boxers, I would have shot off all over both of us, right then and there.)
But at any rate, after a couple of deep breaths Earl said, “The thing is though, right now, I don't want to go that far. Okay?”
So at first, I was feeling pretty chagrined. That and a bit pervy.
Or very pervy – there was some ebb and flow on this – but on the negative side there was: “You save his life and then you poke your thumb up his butt. That... well, you're nothing but a sneaky pervert!”... and so on, but then on the more positive side there was: “Well, damn! I just saved his life, didn't I?” ... and then there was the fact that I didn't really mean to... and besides: “He rubbed his finger across mine, didn't he? So...”
But overall, I'm sure I was looking fairly doleful, only then Earl said, “Why don't we get to know each other a little better first? You know, just talk? Like for example, what do you hope to be doing... oh, twenty years from now?”
“Well, I'd really like to be having some sex by then.” That's what I almost said, but instead I asked, “Twenty years from now? You really want to know?”
“To be the head of Bulgarian Studies at Columbia University.”
... “No, seriously, what's your goal-”
“That's it. Because as far as know, there's no university in the U.S. that has a Bulgarian Studies program. `Course first I'd have to be fluent in Bulgarian, and not only that, I'd have to learn Danish, because the only school I can find that has a Bulgarian Studies program is the University of Copenhagen. But really, Bulgaria is an interesting country. Well, Denmark would be interesting too, but I'll tell you how I first got interested in Bulgaria. I've always liked history, so I'd heard about the First and Second Balkan Wars, but the thing is, there was almost nothing about them in our history books. At school, I mean. Barely even a page, and that was mostly about how they paved the way to World War I because Serbia came out pretty good, only they wanted more, which bothered Austria-Hungary to no end, so of course they wanted to crush the Serbs... which caused a lot of resentment in Serbia, but at any rate, I went to the library and one thing led to another and then on to another and so on. You know that there were actually two Bulgarian Empires? The second came to an end when the Ottoman Turks conquered them, but-”
“You're serious, aren't you?”
“Well, shit yeah. ... At least for now, I am. Next year, who knows, but for now, that's it.”
“So why don't you just go for a history major then?”
“But maybe my goal is every bit as weird as yours. I want to be a librarian.”
So that gave me pause, because fair or not, Earl being a librarian seemed much stranger than my ambition. Mostly because I suddenly had a vision of him sitting at the front desk naked – or even stranger...
“So... you going be dressed up like a rabbit?” If you think about it, that's almost like Alice In Wonderland.
But sounding slightly wounded, he replied, “No, by then I think I will have outgrown it. And I do have a reason, you know. ... But I'm not going to tell you what it is. And anyway, I no longer have a suit. But I want to work in reference. So basically, I'd be getting questions - some weirder than others, like for example, about Bulgaria - but the deal is, if I don't know the answer, I just look it up. So I'll be like Mr. Answer-man and another thing I'd like is that I'd be working mostly by myself. Somebody comes in wanting to know something, I'd tell them, `I'll have an answer for you shortly, but for now, go away and don't bother me. All right?”
And then he went on to explain that what he really wanted was to be working at the State Library or at some university or maybe even at The Smithsonian. So he wasn't thinking in terms of reading books to the kiddies at Children's Story Hour, and somehow, that was a comforting thought.
Believe it or not though, that's when we started drifting slowly back to the subject of sex. It probably took close to an hour, but seeing as how we were both thirteen and naked, and also that now we knew each other better - not only we were both gay, but we were also hopelessly geeky – eventually, sex came up again. I mean, how could it not?
It started when Earl mentioned that another reason for wanting to work mostly by himself was that he wouldn't be as likely to be asked if he was any kin to Eleanor Roosevelt. So I assured him that prominent teeth or not, I didn't think he looked like her at all. And even if he did – just slightly – she was still a great lady and probably also a lesbian even if back in her day, one's sexual preferences were much more likely to be one's own business and not Rush Limbaugh's. But no, I thought he looked more like Bugs Bunny, who was really sort of cute.
So of course he promptly said, “Fuck you,” but after I said that really, he looked a little more like a cross between Bugs Bunny and Beaver Cleaver – he was wondering if I really did think he was sort of cute.
So I said I did and at that point, I also thought it was a good time to apologize about almost sticking my thumb into his hole and I guessed the best way to do that was to explain that I honestly hadn't done very much, so I was awfully inexperienced. Sex-wise, I mean.
So he said, “Oh. Well, that's strange, because if I just count the last three years, then I've probably had even less. Before then, I had more than enough... experience... but it was kind of one-sided, if you know what I mean. ... And if you don't, well, maybe I'll tell you about it one day and maybe I won't.”
Then he lapsed into silence for a little while, so that could have been taken as another stop sign. Only I still had some hopes, because we were sitting side by side with our arms draped over each other's shoulders and I was sort of squeezing and he'd been squeezing back. That was a nice feeling, but after saying what he did, he started stroking the side of my face and that felt even nicer. But I didn't want to be a complete copy-cat, so while I did want to stroke back – and I got to it eventually – I didn't want it to seem like I was only doing it because he was doing it to me, so I kissed him. It was nothing more than a peck on his cheek, but it was the first time I'd ever done anything like that too, and when he gave me a tentative peck in return, it felt fantastic! It was like one of those fuzzy-wuzzy, warm glow type feelings and it was really cool.
But while we didn't stop squeezing and rubbing on each other, I guess we were both feeling a little awkward, so that's when I sailed off into my story about visiting Banff and how one day, I was still going on that damn bicycle tour. And yes, I was also in the process of drawing that analogy I mentioned earlier– or at least I was trying to – only I got side-tracked for awhile because that's when he started talking about how some day we might just do that. He didn't know when, but one of these days, we might. Me, him and Carlie.
So okay, I thought that was good too. Because I was serious about wanting to take that tour, but I was also trying to get back to my primary point... without being too obvious, but-
“I really like planning trips,” Earl continued and with that, he was off to U.S. 83. How it runs all the way from the Canadian border down through the Dakotas, Nebraska, Kansas, the Oklahoma Panhandle and Texas all the way to Brownsville without ever merging with an Interstate – except for a short stretch when you're coming into Laredo, but it would really be a great trip. No big towns at all, just Americana at it's small-town best.
Me, I got sidetracked somewhere in Nebraska, but I managed, “Well yeah, but the point I was sort of try-”
Only then he was off in the other direction, because after you cross the Canadian border, U.S. 83 becomes Manitoba Provincial Highway 83 and goes almost to Saskatchewan. And they have some big buffalo herds up there too.
So I was like, “Oh. But-”
But then we were headed off for the Yukon and Alaska. And it did sound interesting. I'd really love to make a trip like that, only that was in the future and I had some more immediate concerns. And I don't think I was being pervy at that point, I was simply acting my age. If you're gay and the person you're with is and if you're both naked and getting along very well, then you're more than likely to have urges and I had one. Under normal circumstances, just thinking about that urge might have been enough to make me squirt, but having gone off not too long before, at least that didn't happen.
But anyway, he'd reached Kluane National Park. He'd told me about all the wildlife in it - moose, caribou, mountain goats, wolves, grizzly bears, wolverines, eagles and so on, and he'd just got to the fact that it also had the world's largest non-Polar ice field – when he stopped and asked, “Um... what are you doing?”
I was between his legs right then, with my head not too far above his knees, but I answered, “Just looking. ... You seem to be getting some good definition, though. ... But I'm just thinking, is all.”
“Oh. Well... damn. I forgot where I was.”
“Somewhere in the Klaune National Park. So are we in the Yukon or Alaska now?” And with that, I inched closer and that tantalizing scent got stronger. It was an involuntary thing – I think – but I guess it's like the flowers and the bees. The flower wants to get itself pollinated, so poof, it sends out a scent. Although in my case, that would be reversed, but...
“We're still in Canada, but are you... I mean, do you really-”
“Well, I don't know. If I did, would you mind? ... I haven't ever before, but I've read about it and I sure want to. It's not like I'm in love... well, I do like you quite a lot, but back in-”
And I was going to mention Stephan – for what that was worth, because I honestly didn't know if I'd ever hear from him again, but Earl interrupted with, “Well, I guess... I mean, I haven't ever had anyone... I mean, I was always doing it to the other... person... and it's not so bad...” (So it didn't sound like he was trying to talk me out of it), “And I'm not really in love... either... but I... I bet you haven't ever had it done to you either, have you? ... So-”
“Oh, hush,” I said hurriedly and not giving myself any more time to think, because to paraphrase Margaret Thatcher: this was not the time to go wobbly, I scooted up, grasped his erection with one hand, took a deep breath, opened wide and... “I think he just sent out another whiff” ... all at once, I had his velvety soft mushroom shaped head in my mouth! A threshold event for sure! And just like almost every boy/boy story I'd read said, it didn't taste bad at all. (I would've been very disillusioned if I'd found out otherwise.)
But speaking of those stories: well, that was the entire point. I'd read some decently good ones with just one little problem and that was that the boy was very indecisive before finally getting around to doing it, and I didn't want to be like that.
So I wasn't. Although I was definitely having to think everything out. And there were times when I was thinking that his penis was a lot bigger than it looked. It sure felt that way, and to be honest, I wasn't used to having my mouth as wide open as it was for that long. There were times when physically, it felt very uncomfortable, but emotionally, I never felt that way at all. One thing that kept popping into my head was what I probably looked like while I was at it, and it's difficult to explain, but I was getting off on imagining that almost as much as I was on how I was making Earl act, and he was producing some awfully good sound effects. More than a few whimpers and some very nice squeaking sounds and I was making him wiggle all over the place! But the way I look at it, if you're going to do something, then you should give it your best. Assuming that it's something you really want to do, I mean.
So some of the stories I'd read mentioned licking on the other's pee hole, so I tried it and sure enough, he liked it a lot. And of course there were other things I wanted to try out, like for example: letting his penis slide along the roof of my mouth – so I did that too. And we both liked that as well, but on take one, deep-throating was beyond my reach. I almost managed it – and if it had been a little skinnier, I think I could have – but not on my first attempt. Or the second either, so I ended up just sucking on his bulb and just below. But it really was great, because I was busily rubbing on his balls and down between his legs.
But really, no matter how much you've read about doing it or how much you've fantasized, it can't compare to actually doing it. It can't because all at once you discover that it can't put it into words, or at least not adequately. If it was just the mechanics, maybe, but it's the emotions that go along with that act. I'm sure I got just as much out of it as he did. It was like everything was focused right down there and it wasn't long until we could have been in the middle of Grand Central and we wouldn't even have been aware of it. Or if we were...
Well, I suppose we would have cared at least a little, but we still would have been reluctant to stop.
Although I was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that it can be hard work. Towards the end I was thinking, “Will you hurry up and squirt? I mean, seriously...”
At least something like that, but then in a strained, slightly urgent tone of voice I heard him say, “I'm about to... I'm about to... oh shit... I'm just about to- oops.”
There wasn't much and it had almost the same texture as mine – thin and watery – except that's all I'd ever tasted anyway... but it really was cool. Although when he returned the favor...
Well, it was intense, even if it didn't last very long. It might have taken awhile to get my pump primed, but it was almost there before he started. I wish I could put it into words, though.
It sure felt good. I'd read about being enveloped by that wet warmth, but when it happened, Oh my God.
And to think, it was only a little past noon. But the cuddling was nice as well. Just that and talking about all the places we'd like to go someday, was utterly fantastic.
Today's quote is: “This is not the time to go wobbly.”
I'm just saying, is all.
Comments are still looked forward to. Or at least, most of them are. And again, thanks for reading my story.
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