From: cybrsqrl@alt.net (Dream Weaver)
Subject: _New: Bike Boy (b/b)
Date: Sat, 12 Jul 1997 01:59:17 GMT

WARNING:

This story will contain descriptions of a variety of sexual
acts between MINOR boys.

If this subject offends you, or you are under 18, do not
read  further! You have been warned!

FACT OR FICTION:

The story is entirely fiction. It did not happen although
there is a good chance that a story like this could happen.
Any resemblance to any individual, alive or dead, is 
co-incidental and unfortunate!

FINAL WARNING:

If you're under 18, or boy-boy relationships aren't your
thing then exit now!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

I suppose I ought to tell you a bit about myself. I was very
close to 13 at the time these events occurred. I was
thoroughly confused as to my sexual identity. I sensed
within myself, yearnings that were not socially acceptable,
then or now. I liked (loved?) younger boys with an
intenseness that sometimes frightened me. I had many late
night arguments with myself as I tried to come to grips with
what I had been taught and observed. Those teachings and
observations led me to the conclusion that what I felt was
'perverse'. Somehow I never was able to convince myself of
that. How could something that made me feel so good be so
bad? If I was truly 'created in God's image', then why did I
feel these things? My religious background was strict and
judgmental so this question troubled me deeply. As I
matured, I was able to find some of the answers, but at the
moment in time that this story happened, I was nothing more
than a hormone driven almost-teen with lots more questions
than answers.

I hope you enjoy the story.

Comments (nice ones) are welcome. Flames will be sent
straight to the bit bucket.

Dream Weaver
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
                         Bike Boy

Chapter 1

Many years ago on a hot muggy summer afternoon, I found
myself in a public park that had as one of its features, a
very steep hillside; almost a bluff. This area was overgrown
with a kind of wild berry bush that grew eight to ten feet
tall. The local kids had been riding bikes and playing around
on the hillside and there was literally a maze of paths and
trails meandering across and up and down the hillside
through the dense vegetation. It seemed to me a dangerous
place to be riding bikes because it was so steep but you
know how kids are. Anyway, I was walking along the top of
the bluff and I could hear a lot of noise as somebody moved
rapidly through the bushes. Suddenly there was a very loud
crashing/crackling sound, about a half-minute of silence,
and then crying. It must have taken me a couple of minutes
to locate the 'crashee' in the midst of all the bushes.

As luck would have it (back when I still had that kind of
luck), the rider turned out to be a boy about 10 or 11 years
old. His bike had gone off the path and slammed head-first
into the 'stump' of one of the bigger bushes and had come to
a _very_ abrupt stop, throwing him violently forward so he
had smacked his pelvic area against either the handlebars or
that notorious un-padded frame rail that distinguishes a
boys bike from a girls. OUCH!! (I surmised the accident
based on the final resting position of both bike and boy.)

I found him lying on his side, knees drawn tightly to his 
chest, sobbing. He rocked slowly back and forth and uttered
little moans occasionally; tears coursed freely down his
cheeks.  His small hands clutched fiercely at his brutalized
crotch and were in turn clamped tightly between his legs. I
was quite concerned because it was _very_ obvious that he
was in a LOT of pain! I knelt beside him and offered my
sympathy and/or help.

There wasn't another soul around. Was it my imagination or
had even the birds and insects quieted their various
vocalizations in respect for his suffering?  In response to
my gentle questioning, he said he was by himself and that
his parents were both at work. Apparently he wasn't supposed
to be riding his bike there. He managed to choke out through
clinched teeth, that if his parents ever found out that he
had been and that he'd had an accident, he would, as he so
succinctly put it, "be grounded forever!". Even this small
exchange of words was difficult for him since his pain was
excruciating and, I suspect, since he'd voiced his fear of
being found out, some apprehension as to consequences began
to creep into his mind as well. The sobbing renewed.

I gathered his small shoulders in my arms, turned him gently
on his back, and raised him to a half-sitting position. He
allowed me to lift his hands away from the injured area as I
spoke softly, suggesting to him that the application of
additional pressure wouldn't help. He relaxed and allowed
his body to lean into my chest as he settled deeper into my
arms. While I was totally unknown to him, at least I was a
source of some solace when no other was at hand. His sobs
gradually abated as the fiercely stabbing, initial pain
receded to an aching throb. (Any male that has ever had his
testicles soundly whacked knows this feeling all too well
and is probably joining me in a collective shiver just
remembering it!)

As he seemed content to accept the comfort of my willing
arms, I allowed my attention to wander and took closer
notice of him. He was a slim, wiry little guy. My guess as
to his height, proven accurate when he later stood, was
about 53 inches. I estimated his weight at 65-70 pounds. His
longish brown hair was disheveled and  cluttered with
various bits and pieces of the surrounding flora.  His face
was oval in shape and a slight widows peak caused it to
appear somewhat heart shaped. His eyebrows, still slightly
knit due to his discomfort, were a bit darker than his hair.
His eyelashes, matted and soggy from his tears, promised to
be long and luxurious when dry. My brief glimpses of his
eyes caught through fluttering lids, proved them to be a
delightful emerald hue. His pert upturned nose had a small
splash of sun-freckles scattered about helter-skelter. His
thin lips were ruby red and covered straight white teeth.
His chin was solidly formed and in later years, I guessed he
would come to be thought of as having a 'lantern jaw'. His
skin, what I could see of it, was creamy smooth and had a
golden-bronze color from long days in the sunshine and fresh
air. His face and neck had a distinct pinkish cast brought
on from his recent sobbing and pain, no doubt.

He was modestly dressed in a faded, button-down-the-front
short sleeved blue-plaid shirt and a well worn pair of
jeans. Both items appeared to be a bit snug, suggesting that
he may have worn them the previous school year. His feet
were clad in the ubiquitous black high-top tennis shoes so
prevalent in that day. (Yes, it _was_ a long time ago.)

He was not what I would call cute or even particularly
handsome. He would not stand out in a crowd of boys, but he
definitely had that 'down-home wholesomeness' and winsome
beauty inherent to all young boys. At that moment he was the
prettiest, most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Perhaps his entire focus was still directed towards the
violent trauma that had just been visited upon his small
body. Perhaps, in the way of a small child, he needed
comforting and was not particular from whence it came so
long as it came. Whatever his motivation, he seemed not to
mind my fingertips as they fluttered restlessly about his
face and gently pushed his sodden hair, moist from
perspiration, off his equally damp brow. His breathing 
slowed and he finally opened his eyes and gazed up at me.

"Hi, I'm Rick. You sure gave me a scare."

"Ummm Chris."

"Well Chris, you took a one hell of a fall. Feelin' any
better?"

"Little bit...don't know...still hurts...aches..." He placed
his hand over his groin slightly above where his penis would
be.

My own groin gave a sympathetic cringe as I recalled similar
experiences. "Yeah, I know. My foot's slipped off my bike
pedal a few times. Hurts like a bitch when you came down on
the bar and smack yourself down there! Is that what
happened?"

"Yeah...guess so...went so fast." He was still in enough
pain so that talking wasn't easy. He spread his legs and
tugged his jeans down a tad to ease the tightness around his
crotch. His small shirt, not tucked in, rode up giving me a
glimpse of smooth belly skin as it disappeared under a half
inch or so of white elastic that brightly announced the top
of his underpants. His hand returned to his groin. "Ohhhh
man...really hurts...even in my stomach!" Tears congregated
at the corners of his eyes; then trickled down his cheeks.

I knew exactly how he felt. Sometimes a guy can whack his
balls and, while it quickly gets his attention, it isn't
devastating.  Other times - well let's just say that other
times the whack gets his complete and undivided attention!
Unfortunately, this was one of those 'other times' for
Chris. I still cradled him in my arms in a half-sitting
position. I had been kneeling but now I twisted myself
around and sat down beside him. I was still uncomfortable so
I allowed our bodies to sink back until we were on our
backs. I turned slightly towards him and, raising on my
elbow, pillowed his head and neck with my arm. He sighed
softly as more of the  pressure from his jeans was relieved
from his aching midsection. His hands kept returning to his
lower belly alternately clutching the area and rubbing it
gently. I caught him looking at me through almost closed
eyelids whenever his hands approached the hurt. His hands
would flutter about his groin until he observed me watching
and then he'd try and stop their nervous dance.

"It's okay Chris. You don't have to be embarrassed. It
hurts. I know! If rubbing makes it feel better, then rub."

I could feel his small shoulders relax as he got my
'permission' to touch himself. Whatever embarrassment he may
have felt earlier, seemed to disappear as he gingerly felt
himself all over between his legs and then returned to
clutching his lower gut. "Ahhh...damn!" he groaned. "It
hurts like hell!"

CHAPTER 2 MISSING


                         Bike Boy

Chapter 3

He giggled. His smile widened. His eyes sparkled. I dropped
the dreadful accent (aren't you relieved?) and poked him in
the ribs.

"Are you one of those boy persons the professor was talking
about? The one with all the boy thingys?" I asked him in a
'official' voice. He could only nod, unable to stifle his
giggles. They rolled out of him in profusion. Each reminding
me of the tinkling of silver bells in a gentle breeze. "Well
_I_ am the boy inspector," I continued. "It's my job to see
that each and every boy has all the thingys he's supposed to
have, just like the professor said." I patted my pockets
wildly, pretending to look for my 'boy list'. Unable to find
anything, I crinkled up my face. "Now where did I put that
list?" I asked myself. His giggles turned to chuckles. The
more he showed his enjoyment, the harder it drove me to give
him more.

My mind was whirling. Now that I had ascertained that Chris
was not mortally wounded and I had him distracted and no
longer concerned about his nudity, I began to carefully take
stock of his beautiful little body. All his little
'adornments', seen fleetingly before, now held my full
attention. His penis looked to be about 1.5-2" long. It kind
of 'dangled' from his smooth groin and perched atop his
scrotum. The bare little glans was a pinkish-purple and the
tiny pee slit was nicely centered. His circumcision had been
neatly done and the bit of excess foreskin the doctor left
was tucked neatly and evenly behind the flare of his glans.
His scrotum was pink and was, at this moment, rather loose,
allowing his marble-sized testicles to fall away from his
body perhaps an inch or so. The skin was flawless and thin
and his little testicles were neatly defined within their
soft haven. Chris had spent a lot of hours swimming. His
bronzed skin was butter soft and hairless save for the fine
sun-bleached down that covered his arms and legs. The area
covered by his swimming suit was starkly white and
completely hairless. Puberty, for Chris, was years away. To
my eyes, he was nothing short of physical perfection! I
wanted to touch him.

We were lying on our sides facing each other, proped up on
our respective elbows, about eight inches apart. Chris must
have sensed my eyes devouring his luscious nakedness.

"What's the matter?" he said, looking down the length of his
body to see what was attracting my attention.

He caught me by surprise. I didn't realize I was so
transparent. More mental gymnastics as I tried to think my
way out of the trap I'd inadvertantly sprung. The direct
approach seemed best. "Ummm well I think we need to get
serious here. Do you still hurt anyplace?"

"Only a little bit down by my...my...balls," he said with a
slight hesitation. While he'd dealt with his concerns about
being naked, actually talking about his body with me was
still causing him some embarrassment. "It's better all the
time now."

I looked him right in the eye. "Chris, you can hurt yourself
pretty bad down there and that's a real bad place to do it.
You might need to see a doctor." The word 'doctor' got his
attention.

The cute little grins that had been chasing themselves
around his face faded and were replaced by a worried frown.
"But if I have to go to the doctor then my mom has to find
out and she'll ground me for sure! Do I have to? I feel
better now." He was trying to wheedle his way out of a trip
to the doctor and I wasn't even his mom!

I felt kind of crappy about scareing him like that but...
"Careful. Go slow here," I thought to myself. "Do you really
think your mom will get that mad just 'cause you had a
little  accident?"

"Yes!" he said decisively. "See last summer me and my friend
were riding our bikes here and I got a great big cut in my
leg. It had to get stitches from the doctor and she said if
I EVER did it again I will be grounded for a long time!" As
he spoke, he turned his leg so we could both see the 4.5
inch scar just barely visible on the inside of his calf.

He paused, breathless, and then another reality dawned on
him. "'sides I will get real embarrassed if he looks at
my...down there," he stammered. I was rewarded with cute
little blush. "What can I hurt down there anyway?" he said,
looking down his body.

"Lots of stuff. If you and me talk about it, can you promise
it will be our secret? I bet your mom would really be pissed
if she knew I told you this stuff. It's like stuff that boys
find out when they are bigger than you."

"Oh man, neat! I can keep secrets good! I do NOT want my mom
to find out this so it's a big secret all ready." He seemed
quite excited at the prospects of expanding his knowledge.
That could only make things easier. "Only can I put my
clothes on?

"Why? The stuff you want me to tell you about is where you
got hurt. We need to see if yours is hurt down there or not
and it's easier with no clothes." I paused to let him think
it over. After he'd stewed for a few seconds, I added,
"Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you ARE to little to learn about
it. Maybe that's why your mom or dad never told you yet."

"No! I'm NOT to little! It's a thing I wanted to know for a
long time. I didn't even know who to find it out from. It's
only.... only like it makes me feel weird when I am the only
one who is bare naked."

My heart gave a lurch. He looked so cute and wistful sitting
there looking up at me. Gritting my teeth, I made my
decision. "Would you be more comfortable if I got naked too?
Then we'd both be the same." I held my breath waiting for
his reply.

"Oh yeah. I mean if you want to. I really want to find out
about that stuff and..." He paused, a little embarrassed but
willing to suffer the embarrassment if he could find out
what he was eager to know. "I heard a lot of stuff from
school...other guys that say things. Can you tell me about
it?"

Did I need more of an invitation? Nope. "Did you ever have
show and tell in school?"

"Sure, doesn't everybody?" he said, puzzled by my off-the-wall
question.

"A lot of times it's easier to show stuff then it is to tell
about it," I told him. "Close your eyes," I instructed. He
was still puzzled but he closed his eyes. I picked up a leaf
and held it a short distance from his face. "I'm holding a
leaf in front of your face. What can you tell me about it?"

"Uh...nothing cause I can't see it."

"Exactly. If you really want to learn about something you
need to be able to see it and feel it to really understand
it. If you want me to teach you about sex and stuff then
it's a lot easier if you can see and feel it." I let that
sink in for a few moments and then continued, "Do you want
me to teach you like that?"

He was silent for almost a minute. I could sense that he his
mind was churning. "If we do that kind of stuff with each
other will we be gay?"

"Chris, lots of guys mess around with each other. Sometimes
they are gay but most times not. You're way to young to have
to worry about being gay. Haven't you EVER messed around
with another guy, ever?"

"Well...me and my friend have sometimes," he said shyly.
"Um..and a couple times my cousin and me did some stuff
too," he added.

"Are they gay?" He shook his head. "Do you think you're
gay?" Again the head shake. "Did you like doing it?" A nod.
"Do you think they liked it?" Another nod. "See?" I said.
"Just because you've had sex with a guy and you both like
it, doesn't make either of you gay. It's way to soon to know
if you're gay or not. I read where most boys do stuff with
other boys cause they want to learn about how their body
works and what makes it feel good."

He seemed to relax as he considered everything I'd said.
Feeling more secure now that Chris seemed more at ease, I
asked again, "Do you still want me to get naked with you?" I
held my breath as he let his eyes roam up and down my body.
He nodded, his eyes locked on the boner that was beginning
to form a tent in my pants.


                         Bike Boy

Chapter 4

I had a massive hardon. At least as massive a hardon as an
almost-thirteen-year-old can get. The thought of engaging in
sex play with Chris made chills run up and down my spine and
almost made me sick to my stomach with excitement. I quickly
stripped off all my clothes. My almost-five-inch circumcised
boy-tool (OK I lied, it was only 4.75 inches long on a good
day) was sticking straight out and throbbing in anticipation
of what was to come.

His eyes glued themselves to my throbber and he whispered,
"God! Yours is big! Mine's a lot littler." As he spoke, his
hand began to fondle his small penis and it hardened to a
stiff little three-and-one-half-inch tower thrusting
urgently from his groin. Once it was hard, he began to rub
the sensitive end lightly with his fingertip. "See, I told
you it was little," he said with a shy smile.

"Oh Chris, I think it's perfect! I think you're perfect!
Your boner is just right for your age. How old are you
anyway?" Not waiting for an answer, I asked, "Can I touch
it?"

He nodded and said, "I'm ten." I reached out and gently
gripped the hardest little boner I'd ever felt. His breath
hissed between his teeth when I began to jack him off
slowly. My hand was too large to fit his penis so I had to
grip him with my thumb and two fingers. He rolled on his
back and closed his eyes and enjoyed my touches. He didn't
seem to be feeling any pain so I shifted my attention to the
silky little purse that held his marble-sized testicles. I
carefully rolled each tiny orb between my fingers and he
uttered  a soft grunt. Anxiously I asked, "Am I hurting
you?"

"Oh no," Chris said. "That feels GOOD! How come when
somebody else rubs me down there it feels better than when I
do it to myself?"

"I don't know. It's just because it's somebody else that is
doing it to you," I said truthfully. "Part of it is because
we always get told that it's kind of nasty to play sex. Did
your parents ever tell you that?"

"Yeah. They never said it like if I did it with a friend or
something but if it was a stranger then I need to run and
tell somebody." He giggled and continued, "I wonder if I
need to tell them about you cause you are playing with my
dink?" With hardly a pause, he looked up at me and said with
a mischievous grin, "Naw...I guess I won't. Can I play with
yours?"

"If you wanna," I managed to get out. I could hardly contain
my excitement! Not only was I playing with the cutest boner
I'd ever seen, but now its ten-year-old owner wanted to play
with mine! I almost fainted when I felt his warm little hand
began to tentatively explore my groin. Unable to contain my
pleasure, a moan escaped my lips.

"You OK?" Chris asked anxiously. "Did I hurt you?

What could I say? I had died and gone to heaven. I just
didn't know it yet. "Nope. Your hand just feels so good on
me."

"I never did it to a big one like yours before," Chris said
shyly. He almost made me cum when he stopped rubbing me and
gently touched the thin halo of newly-grown pubic hairs
(maybe 20-30 if I recall correctly) that adorned my
throbbing prick. "God it's so cool you have hair down there!
How old are you?"

Between clenched teeth I grunted, "Almost 13 and if you're
not careful I'm going to cum all over your hand!" I'd
learned about jacking off when I was about Chris' age. That
is, I'd been able to get the orgasm feeling. Hell, I almost
wore the skin off my peter self-pleasuring myself! Then,
about two or three months earlier, my orgasms took on a
totally different quality. One night I was jerking like
usual, lost in a fantasy about sex with another boy, and
suddenly it happened, my first wet cum! It wasn't much, just
a few drops of clear fluid, but it was a beginning. Since
then I'd 'abused' myself on a regular and frequent basis so
my balls and prostate had gotten into the habit of producing
ever more semen. I could now achieve what I considered to be
a respectable orgasm for a kid my age. Hell, I was the ONLY
kid my age I knew that could achieve a wet orgasm! I'm sure
there were others but I didn't have the fortitude to ask any
of the guys I knew if they could.

"What's come?" he asked, peering up at me intently. "Is that
like the sperms and white stuff? My mom gave me a book to
read that had stuff like that in it. It said all boys can
get white stuff out of their penis when they get older and
get hair there. I've tried to get some to come out of mine
but I guess I'm not old enough yet or don't know how. Nobody
I know can yet."

"Yeah, that's right," I huffed and puffed, trying to contain
my impending orgasm. I desperately wanted to prolong cumming
for a while so I wouldn't lose my boner. One thing I'd
learned was that with the onset of puberty, my boner went
away for a while once I ejaculated. Finally, reluctantly, I
paused his little hand in its business around my boner and
groaned, "Oh God, stop for a minute please! It feels so good
it about hurts!"

He giggled, suddenly enjoying the sense of power he seemed
to have over me. My adore (and my nuts) cooled somewhat and
I realized his other hand was darting about his own groin. I
got on my knees over him and pushing his hand aside, I began
to caress his smooth body. As my fingertips danced across
his chest, they paused and plucked at his tiny nipples. He
shivered; his body almost vibrated as I gently ran the tips
of my fingers around the tiny points.

"Oh geez!" he peeped. "I never knew my titties could feel
like that before! Do it more."

Giving him no rest, I lowered my head and began to suck on
one of them. I heard him gasp as this new feeling was
flashed through his already aroused body. As I enjoyed
sucking first one and then the other hard little nipple, I
spread my knees and lowed my body so we touched. Our
throbbing boners, his glans a bright red and mine a dark
purple, touched briefly. This time it was my turn to gasp as
I felt the intimate contact of his hard little dick brush
against mine. Seeking more luscious thrills, I lowered
myself a bit more until our hard penises were crushed
against each other. I felt his belly tighten as I nudged and
guided myself into a comfortable position. Finally, with our
hard dicks fully against each other, I started a soft
rocking motion that felt wonderful to me. "You like doing
this?" I whispered. He didn't bother to speak but nodded his
head with a sigh.

As my lips and tongue touched his breast, I could feel his
heart beating like a triphammer. Mine was racing too. My
orgasm was not far off since the sensation of our bodies
rubbing together wasn't any more soothing to my libido than
his gentle touches had been earlier. If I didn't change
activities, the feel of his silky-soft pubis and the hot
hardness of his small throbber would surely have me spewing
my load across his stomach. I wanted to save it for later.
Reluctantly I sat up. His eyes had been closed but when he
felt me move, he opened them. "Is that all there is?" he
asked. "I figured there was more."

"More? What do you mean more?" He had taken me by surprise
because I certainly had planned on 'more' but was still
considering how to approach the problem.

Maybe it was the way I sounded or something but he blushed a
bright red. After a short pause he said, "I kinna heard
about some other stuff at school is all. It's like dirty
stuff and I don't know for sure if I got it right....Did you
ever hear about a thing called..." Pausing yet again for
another blush, "Well I heard some bigger guys say it is
named a cocksucker!" He shivered just saying that awful word
aloud. "I do not even know for sure what it means but I
think I do."

Now it was my turn to shiver! I'd been racking my brain
trying to figure out a way to plant the idea and now he'd
done it on his own. "What do you think it means Chris?" I
asked him, not believing my good luck!

If he was uncomfortable and blushing before, now he
resembled a boiled lobster. He couldn't look me in the eye
and glancing down he said softly, "Sugit!" He'd blurted it
out so fast that I couldn't understand him. Obviously I knew
what he meant but I wanted to hear the vulgar words pass his
innocent lips.

"What? I didn't understand you," I prodded him. "Tell me
again."

He got the courage to look at me and shyly said, "It means
when your dink gets sucked." Having finally said the words,
he seemed to sigh in relief and waited for my reaction. His
penis was fully hard and gently throbed in time with his
heart. This was a concept that he was REALLY interested in
learning about!

"Did you ever have yours sucked before?" I asked. He shook
his head rapidly back and forth. "But you want to right?"
His head bobbed up and down; his hand darted down and
grasped his hard little shaft and rubbed it gently. I was
still kneeling over him so I took his hands in mine and
pulled him upright. Our bodies came together and I hugged
him tightly for a few moments. Placing my hands around his
waist, I urged him to stand before me in all his naked
glory. I had to take a moment to lean back and gaze at his
beauty. I must have taken a bit to long because I felt his
hand touch my shoulder.

Mistaking the reason for my hesitation, he said, "You don't
have to suck my dink if you don't want to."

"Oh no Chris," I finally gurgled. "It's just that you're so
pretty and have such a nice dink that I wanted to look at
you for a while. I REALLY want to suck you." His body was so
perfect and pretty that I wanted desperately to touch him
all over. "Is it OK if I touch you other places while I suck
you?" He nodded and I began to lick his nipples again and
rub my hands up and down his back.

He giggled and said, "It makes my tummy feel funny when you
talk like that."

I felt him shiver again as my tongue skittered across and
down his chest. He sucked in his breath with a hiss. I
wasn't sure if it was because I was rimming his 'innie'
belly button or the feel of my hands as I gripped his firm
little butt cheeks. I'd never had the chance to play with a
cute butt like Chris', or any other butt for that matter, so
I allowed my hands to linger and savor their plump firmness.
Not fat you understand, just a pleasingly firm, perfectly
shaped, slightly tense pair of little boy butt-cheeks. I
imagine his cheeks were tense because my fingers were trying
to burrow between them and I'm sure it was a totally new
sensation for Chris. He kept flexing his body, almost like
fucking, but my mouth hadn't yet reached his rock-hard
stiffy so it was probably because he was alternately dodging
and yet enjoying my hands on his butt.

And then my mouth arrived at his boy-toy. Never was anyone
so prepared for what was about to happen. If Chris had had
any qualms before, there was no doubt that he was now eager
and willing to try this new and forbidden activity. I paused
as I felt my tongue brush the top of his boner. You see, I'd
never sucked a cock before! Oh sure, I'd heard all the
stories and innuendo around school but I was scared to try
it. I had a couple of friends that would jerk off with me
but never did I summon the courage to suggest we suck each
other. A guy's got to worry about his reputation you know!
Often I'd lay in my bed at night and fantasize about having
my dick sucked and then sucking somebody else but alas, the
chance never presented itself. I even sucked my thumb (a
lot) and once a hot dog to 'practice' how I would do it if I
could. Now it was my turn to hesitate. Would it taste icky?
Would it taste like pee? I didn't know but I was about to
find out.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Continued in Chapter 5 if there's enough interest.