Date: Wed, 24 Jan 2001 11:21:46 -0800 (PST) From: Robert J. Cutter Subject: "BEGINNING DAYS" (Teen/Boy) Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction; neither the characters nor the situations have any actuality in fact. There is strong homoerotic content between minor boys. If this offends you, leave now! BEGINNING DAYS ------------------------------- By Robert J. Cutter Copyright (c) 2001 by Robert J. Cutter - All Rights Reserved Please Note This Very Carefully: The author retains all rights to this story. No person may distribute this story, put it on another web site and/or display this story without the written consent and permission of the author. Please send any comments to rjcutter57@yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------ As decades pass, the brain plays a terrible, cruel joke on each of us - the memories of times past return in ever growing strength and clarity. Small incidents and experiences come back with renewed vigor. These pictures appear with vivid lucidity and tremendous strength. One becomes reacquainted with the long dead past more intimately than with the events of yesterday. The specters and ephemera of yesterday almost become the reality of today. And so it is with me - happenings long buried, long forgotten or long suppressed have become vibrantly alive and terrifyingly real. Events from almost fifty years ago haunt me...and comfort me...and reinvigorate me...and seem to establish a sense of continuity in my life. I can remember the particular day so clearly now and every detail about it. The scenes have now crystallized - or is that recrystallized - in my thoughts. The dappled sunlight is playing over the surface of the stream. It's not a fast moving stream, but slow and meandering, and the sound of the gentle gurgling is making me drowsy. The shimmering platform and light has me entranced. It's summer and I can hear insects buzzing and flitting around, butterflies swooping in their seemingly erratic flight and water bugs skipping over the surface of the quieter parts of the stream. The wind is gently rustling the leaves on the trees. The warmth of the summer air is enveloping and soothing. I'm reclining near the bank of the stream with my head resting on the thick bark of the tree. This is my private place...my own private, secluded place...the place I come to when I need to get away from everyone and everything in my life. Nobody knows about this place - at least I think they don't. I stare into the clear sky; it's an incredible color, crystal clear and speckled here and there with minute clouds. I am peaceful. For the first time in months and months, I feel peaceful. I watch the clouds changing shape and play the game of creating objects out of the shapes. And the shapes are constantly changing - morphing, before we knew that such a word existed. School is over for the term, thank god. Thank god! Now I'll have almost three months away from those torturous chambers - those musty, damp, sweat encrusted, impenetrable halls for the transfer of knowledge. Three months away from those prying eyes, and the loose tongued and gossipy kids. Three months away from the mewling and noise and distraction of twelve hundred junior high school teens. Hormone city. It was not a good year. Not a good year at all. The studies were very hard (especially the math) but there were worse things to contend with. The kids! Those terrible fucking kids! How do they know? What is it that they latch on to? How can they know more about me than I know myself? At the beginning of the year, I thought I'd noticed...well, I thought I'd noticed something strange happening to me. I really didn't become aware of it the first time it happened, but by the fourth or fifth time I was immediately sensitive to new and different and strange feelings...feelings that seemed to run through my entire body...feelings that I could not put words to...feelings that were just vague sensations and phantom suggestions...feelings that hinted at strange portents...and tinged with unsettling consequences. Some how, I knew that these feelings were not right...were not proper...not correct for a twelve-year-old boy to have. They were crazy feeling - feelings of yearning and longing and inadequacy and not being understood by parents and peers. I didn't understand them. All I knew was that something was vaguely wrong...and improper. These improper feelings were directed towards...well, they were directed towards other boys. Boys in my classes and ones I met on the athletic field...and, particularly, the ones I encountered in the locker room. I just loved watching those boys. I thrilled at the sight of their naked bodies, with their soft and still developing muscles. Some had begun puberty and had the telltale beginnings of pubic thatch, leg hair, and underarm hair. I would try like hell to look away while going to and from the showers but it was no use. I couldn't draw my stare away from those alluring, wondrous, riveting sights. I hated myself for being so weak, so overly curious and so routinely stimulated. I tried keeping to myself. If I weren't around all those great boyhood temptations, I'd be able to correct my deficiencies. This was my logical approach to the problem. Needless to say, it didn't work. So on that beautiful, lazy early summer day I was sitting and trying to decide what to do and what I could possibly do. Who could I speak to? Who could I confide to? Should I confide in anyone? Or keep this all to myself? Was this at all normal? Was I the only one who had these kinds of buried feeling and fantasies? What was wrong with me? And why? "Hiya Robert. How ya doin'?" came the soft, cheerful voice from behind me. I quickly turned in the direction of the voice. "Billy? What the hell are you doin' here?" "Whadda ya mean? What the hell are you doin' here?" I just stared at his face and his wonderful wide grin. "This is my s-s-secret place! I'm always here!" "Well so am I!" came the response. He gave me a big smile and I felt myself absolutely melting on the inside. "I've been comin' here for years...to fish." "Well so have I! And I've never seen you here before." I began to feel that my privacy was being violated and tears began to well up in my eyes. Then it struck me. "Hey, Billy? You only moved here last year. How could you be comin' here for years?" As he made himself comfortable, Billy Corretto gave me another huge smile. Here was beautiful, blonde, butch Billy Corretto - the two of us - just the two of us - together - alone. Was this a fantasy? Or a dream? Billy Corretto had become one of my favorite boys to watch.one of my absolute favorites. He was gorgeous; well, at least to me he was gorgeous. He was two years older than me but we were in the same grade - he was left back once and I skipped a grade. Being older, he was taller, had a bigger build and I'm sure he was already well into puberty. He had some hair on his lower legs - dark hair that I found to be both exciting and repulsive. I mean, he was a striking blonde with big brown eyes; why did he have dark hair on his legs and not blonde hair? He had blonde hair on his arms so why not on his legs? He had no hair on his face, though - his face was still completely smooth. Anyway, I was thrilled to have him act so friendly towards me. He usually didn't when he had his gang of greaser friends around him. He sat a few yards from me and began preparing to fish. I had brought some snacks. He gave me a big smile when I offered him some potato chips; I felt my chest tighten and had difficulty catching my breath. We both fished and ate - not speaking. I soon noticed Billy Corretto beginning to scratch and rub his crotch. I'd notice men doing this a lot too and wondered why they did. Didn't they bathe? Did their dick and balls itch that much that they always had to scratch them? And play with them? Everywhere? I look over with growing fascination as Billy Corretto continues to rub his crotch. He also seems to be moving something inside his shorts. He leans forward and quickly removes his polo shirt. The sight of his upper arm muscles and his nicely developing chest captivates me. He looks up and directly at me as if suddenly remembering that I was there. He gives me a big smile and his eyes sort of twinkle. "Gotta boner," he says softly and in a slightly embarrassed voice. "Gotta take care of it." I look at him quizzically and shake my head slightly. "Don't you ever get boners?" he asks. He has a slight chuckle in his voice. "You know, boner!" he repeats. I shrug my shoulders slightly and he smiles more broadly. "When you dick gets hard, Robert! C'mon, you musta had 'em. Right?" This time I nod slightly. "Great!" he exclaims. "I get 'em all the time. Never know when it'll pop up and I'll neeta play wit' it." Now he laughs out loud. He stands up and quickly drops his shorts and underpants and sits back down on them. I don't know what he's doing but I carefully sneak a peek over at his naked body. His back's resting against the tree and his knees are raised up with his feet flat on the ground. Above his smooth thighs, I see the end of his cock sticking up. It's so rosy looking and it seems to be incredibly long - so much longer and larger than mine. He begins to stroke his cock with his right hand and I can still see the end of it - the head of his dick. It is a very rosy, dark red - almost purple looking. He closes his eyes and raises his head until he's looking at the sky - but his eyes are closed. He begins to rub his hand faster and faster on his stiff dick. I'm enjoying watching Billy Corretto play with his dick so much that I absentmindedly begin to rub my crotch and feel my dick getting hard inside my shorts. It feels quite good but still my eyes are on Billy Corretto. I notice that his body begins moving; at first, just his hips start moving slowly up and down but then I notice that his bottom's actually coming off the ground and he starts moving his head from side to side. He also starts making some very strange noises - I think he's moaning and saying some words that I can't understand. The faster he strokes the faster his body moves and the more and more noise he makes. Billy Corretto's whole body's now moving wildly and my attention is absolutely riveted on every twitch and shudder. The muscles in his neck and arms and calves and chest and thighs look more and more defined...and strained. His skin begins to look like it's turning rosy. He looks gorgeous! The shafts of sunlight that break through the leaves and branches over us are glistening off of Billy Corretto's wildly moving and sweating body. I am mesmerized. He is my blonde god...presenting all of this for me...making me truly happy. This kind of action goes on for about five minutes, I think; I really don't look at my watch while I'm watching him. Billy Corretto's getting wilder and wilder. Then his feet come off the ground and his head is thrown very far back. Finally, he lets out a shriek; it scares me since everything around is so quiet. He lets out this shriek and I see some white stuff came flying out the end of his dick. He continues to stroke and more of the white stuff comes out. I have no idea what's going on...what's happening to him. But then slowly Billy Corretto starts getting quieter and I can't see his dick anymore popping up above his thigh. He turns that beautiful face to me, opens his eyes dreamily and speaks in a soft, hoarse voice. "I just love doin' that - jerkin' off I mean. It feels so-o-o-o great! And I feel so-o-o-o good afterwards." He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the tree again. His hand is still down there around his crotch. I coulda sworn he'd fallen asleep. "You do it?" he asks. I'm startled because I wasn't expecting him to speak and had returned my attentions to the fishing. "Do what?" "Jerk off, stupe! Jerk off!" I just stare at him, then shake my head very slightly. "No," I say softly. "Is that what you just did?" "Yeah, that's what I just did. I just jerked off. I pulled on my dick and rubbed it real hard until I squirted out a load." "Oh," I say noncommittally. "Yeah; see, I jerked off until I squirted. Didn't ya see the scum come flyin' outta my dick?" I nod at him again. "Yeah, I saw it." I turn to face him and he's smiling. I smile back. "What did you call that stuff? That stuff that came outta your dick?" "Scum!" "Oh." I had never heard of that stuff before and even though I used to pull on my dick once in a while and my dick got real, real hard, none of that stuff ever came outta me. Suddenly it hits me! "Maybe that's what's the matter with me - that stuff never comes outta me and it's building up inside and driving me loony." "It's what shoots from your balls," he said, almost derisively. "Huh? Balls?" I give this a few seconds of thoughts. "Oh, yeah, balls. Those things under your dick. Right?" "Yeeeeeah!" he says with a sarcastic tone. "Those round things in the bag under your dick." His face changes expression and he takes on a gentler look. "Does your dick ever get hard, Robert?" I nod. "It did when I saw you doin' what you were just doin'." He smiles first and then laughs. "I was hopin' you'd say that, Robert. I was really hopin'." I give him a great big smile. Billy Corretto, one of my favorite boys to watch and to daydream about, Billy Corretto is excited that I'm interested in him strokin' himself. I'm thrilled. This is really great! Billy Corretto stands up and puts on his underpants and shorts. I cannot take my eyes off of him. He's so stunning...and his dick - it's so big! It's just sort of sitting there, limply hanging over his rather large balls. It's so beautiful...so really beautiful. It looks different from mine and other dicks I've been scouting out. And all that soft looking darkish blonde hair around it. He digs his fishing pole into the ground. He slowly walks over to where I'm sitting, staring at me all the time. When he's standing over me, he looks down at me and gives me one of his copyrighted high voltage smiles; I can remember smiling back at him. Then he quickly kneels down right next to me with both his knees touching my right thigh. I feel a jolt of something traveling through my body when his skin touches mine. He puts both his hands on his thighs. "Did y' ever wake up in the middle o' the night and feel all kinds of sticky stuff in your pajamas down by your dick?" I shake my head. "Never?" I shake my head again. "So you've never squirted? Well, that's okay, I suppose. Maybe you're too young yet." He leans over to whisper something in my ear. "You wanna feel somthin' great?" he asks in a low and very sexy voice. At least his voice sounds sexy to me at that time. I nod at him. "Put your fishin' pole down. Okay?" I nod again and put the pole down, anchoring it in the ground. "Now feel this." He lifts my hand and sorta gently places it on his crotch. I can immediately feel the large bulge in there - his dick musta gotten hard and long again. Then I can feel the warmth in his crotch - the incredible warmth. It feels really great! The combination of his hard dick and the warmth and the suddenness of the whole experience combines to get me very excited and I feel my own dick growing big in my shorts and the perspiration on my forehead and a feeling of being slightly dizzy. "Does it feel good?" he asks. I nod my head vigorously. "I'm glad you like it, 'cause I like it too." He hums gently. "There's lottsa other things that're just as good," he says in a low but strong voice. His voice becomes a little hoarser as I continue to rub him. "Some of 'em are even better!" He gives me a sly, sexy look - anyway, to me it looks sly and sexy. "Oh, that feels so g-o-o-o-o-d Robert. Keep doin' that! Yeah, just keep doin' that!" His head is thrown all the way back as I continue to rub him. I can feel that I'm now stroking his hard dick inside his shorts. I can also feel those balls of his. "Would you like to find out about those other things, Robert?" Again I nod vigorously. "Great! I think you're gonna love 'em!" He slowly reaches out one hand and very gently places it on my inner thigh. He begins rubbing up and down my thigh. With each up and down motion, the closer and closer he gets to my crotch. The feelings are so very intense and they seem to be running all over my body. This is heavenly...totally heavenly! If Billy Corretto wants to teach me anything - absolutely anything at all - I'm only too willing to learn. The End