A BOOK OF FIRSTS, Pt 9
My dad owned farmland in Louisiana. We lived on part of it, and part of it he leased to a succession of tenant farmers. Usually, they were black families, but when I was five, a white family moved in with a boy my age by the name of Isaac.
I was born blond, but my hair had darkened by then. Isaac was still a blondy. We were both about the same size; he might have been a little chunkier, but not fat – just typical five-year-old. I met him the first time, riding in my pickup with my dad the morning Isaac’s family moved in. That afternoon, I walked back over to play with him.
A morning or two later, when Isaac and I were playing near the barn, he led me back behind the barn to a space between it and an old shed. Nobody ever went back that way, so we were alone.
Once there, Isaac hooked his thumbs in the front waistband of his shorts and pushed them down as if he was going to take a piss, but then he held the front of his waistband down to show me his dick. It was hard and pointing up like a stiff finger.
The erection didn’t surprise me. I’d waken with erections before, and I’d seen farm animals with them. I suppose I just knew about them. The length of Isaac’s stiffy did surprise me, though. It was a bit longer than mine. It also surprised me that he didn’t appear to be wearing underwear.
“Show me yours,” Isaac said.
I did like him and pushed the waistband of my shorts, and my underwear, down so that my limp dick hung over the front. Neither of us had a shirt on.
Isaac stepped up to me, and, holding the front of his shorts down with one hand, he took my dick into his other and started fondling it. I quickly grew hard.
“Do this to me,” he said.
So, like him, I held the front of my shorts down with one hand and reached for his stiffy with the other.
“Do this,” Isaac said, sliding the skin up and down my dick with his thumb and fingers.
I did, and for a moment, we stood almost belly-to-belly sliding the skin up and down on one another’s stiffy. Then Isaac pushed his shorts on down to his ankles and so I did the same.
“Here,” he said, grabbing the side of my hips. He whipped his hips back and forth so that his stiffy whacked mine. “Sword fighting,” he said with a grin.
I laughed and grabbed the sides of his hips like he had mine, and we sword fought, giggling. In seconds, though, we were belly-to-belly, rubbing our stiffies against each other.
“I’ll show you some’n else,” he said, stepping out of his shorts. “Lay down on your tummy.”
I stepped from my shorts, struggling to get my tennies through the leg holes, and then laid down onto my stomach. Isaac lay down on top of me and I felt his stiffy in my butt crack. He wiggled around and rubbed his stiffy there. I felt him poke against my butt hole, but I’m not sure he got inside at all.
“Let me try,” I said after a while.
Isaac lay down beside me on the ground, onto his stomach. I climbed on top of him, laying my stiffy up his butt crack like he’d done to me. And then, like he’d done to me, I grabbed the backs of his shoulders and rubbed my stiffy up and back between his butt cheeks. It felt good. And not just on my stiffy; his skin felt good against my skin. And I could smell him. He had a boy smell like puppies have a puppy smell.
He rested the side of his face on the back of his hands and wiggled his butt under me. I held on and kept wiggling.
“I know some’n else we can do,” he said.
“We can walk around with our peters hanging out of our shorts.”
We got up and pulled on our shorts but left the fronts down under our dicks. Then we sort of waddled-walked out, into the cotton field next to the barn, laughing at each other.
His mom saw and came after us. She lit into him and sent me home. She told my mom about it, too, because I overheard her tell my dad. He just laughed, though.
Our moms kept a close eye on us for a while after that, and we never played that way again.
My apologies to the guy who sent me this story. I’ve gone back over and over my email, Googling it every way I could think of, looking for your earlier emails. I wanted to refresh my memory and ask you more details. I also wanted to run the story past you one more time before posting. I couldn’t find the emails, and I apologize. I hope you don’t mind. You did say I could post it, and it was just too cute a story to not post.
And since this was a very short story, I have one more…
I was a pretty young kid when Jessie and his dad were in a car accident. They got blindsided by another car. Jessie’s dad came out alright, but Jessie lost the use of both legs. I remember my parents talking about the poor boy down the street.
That was probably when I was six. Over the next few years, I’d see Jessie from time to time in his wheelchair. He was only three years older, and his family lived less than a block away.
Jessie was always smiling and happy, which impressed me because if I were him, I would have been majorly depressed. He was just sort of a normal boy with black hair and blue eyes, but his constant smile made him really nice looking.
The summer I turned twelve, I started mowing lawns for money, and Jessie’s parents hired me to do their yard. Even at that age, I was pretty athletic, and I was pleased with the way my body had begun to develop, so I generally mowed without a shirt on. When I mowed at Jessie’s, he’d come out in his wheelchair, also without a shirt, and sit on their front porch or back patio watching. He had a physical therapist, used a weight set, and had to haul himself around using only his upper body. For a fifteen-year-old, he was ripped, from the waist up.
We’d talk before and after I mowed, or if I took a break, and he’d offer me cold pop from a little ice chest he brought out with him. It occurred to me the second time I mowed for them, and he watched me mow, that Jessie might not have many friends. There weren’t that many kids around our neighborhood, and it was summer. I didn’t have many friends myself.
Jessie started watering his yard every day. I saw him moving around it in his wheelchair in the late afternoon, moving the sprinkler. I had to mow the very next week after mowing the first time.
About the third time I mowed for them, I noticed a lump in Jessie’s shorts when we talked. I wondered if he had a hard-on, but decided he might just have a big dick. His legs were a bit wasted and I figured his dick just looked big on him because his legs were so thin. I began to notice the lump many times when we talked.
Jessie’s birthday was July first. He turned fifteen and his parents bought him one of the new Playstations that had come onto the market. Jessie called me to see if I wanted to come play it with him, and I was over in a flash. We played late. I mowed the next morning for them, and we played again afterward.
We were both pretty bad, starting out, but we laughed a lot. No one else was around. His parents both worked. So we had the noise cranked up. I sat on a chair beside his wheelchair, and we jostled each other teasingly as we played.
Even though he was in a wheelchair, Jessie was three years older than me. He had a strong upper body, and I was a bit short for my age. So he had no problem hauling me across his lap to tickle when I was too ‘in his face’ after beating him twice in a row. We were both wearing only shorts and, as we wrestled, I liked the feel of his muscles and his bare skin against mine.
Like most boys that age, I’d begun to think about girls a lot, but I wasn’t turned off to other boys. My buddy, Donny, and I jacked off together in his swimming pool three times in about five days, when we found out we had both started sperming. I liked seeing his dick hard, and the last time, I reached over and jacked him and he reached over and jacked me. We hadn’t done it since, though, because he didn’t want to and I figured he thought we’d gotten too gay.
So anyway, it was a bit of a turn-on, getting tickled and wrestling around in Jessie’s wheelchair, even though his legs were so skinny. I wound up sitting across his lap with his arm holding up my back. His other hand was on my legs and he ran his palm over them, admiringly.
“You already have good leg muscles,” he told me. “Do you like running?”
I nodded as his rubbing hand moved inside my thigh and higher up my leg. I felt something stir under my butt like a firming dick. My own dick began to stiffen out to the side.
Jessie’s thumb slipped inside one leg of my shorts, and then his fingers did. We weren’t looking at each other. We were both watching my lap as his fingertips slipped into the crease inside my leg and then inside the leg hole of my briefs. His fingertips brushed the side of my balls and my breath caught. I don’t think Jessie was even breathing.
He shifted his hand to my other shorts leg because he could reach farther up, and his fingers closed around my dick.
“Can I see it?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” I answered in a quiet, hoarse voice.
When he had trouble pulling my shorts down one-handed, I lifted my butt from his lap and pushed my shorts and underwear down my legs. They fell to the floor.
Jessie parted my legs with his hand and lifted my balls on his fingers. “For a little guy,” he said, “you’re already getting some descent equipment.” He closed his hand around my dick, and I swallowed hard.
“Can I ask you something and you won’t get mad?” he asked, looking at my cock and not me.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Could I suck it?”
I swallowed really hard then, and croaked, “Sure.”
Jessie tried to lean forward, but that didn’t work. So I stood up next to his chair. Jessie twisted toward me, pulling me closer with a hand behind my butt; his eyes locked on my dick.
I watched as he took the base of my shaft in his fingers and thumb while holding me steady by my hip. He leaned forward and paused a moment. I knew I was probably stinky down there from mowing, but he didn’t seem to mind. I heard him breathe in through his nostrils. Tentatively, he closed his mouth over my crown, and my knees almost buckled.
He took more of my dick into his mouth, pulling me forward and leaning forward himself. I might have had ‘decent’ equipment for a little guy, but I was only twelve; he didn’t have much trouble swallowing most of my length.
I grabbed onto the sides of his head, swaying on my feet. Jessie sucked like a natural, not that I knew what a natural was back then. He sucked and his tongue did marvelous things under my shaft and over my crown. His head moved up and down my shaft, and I felt his slobber on my balls.
He cupped my balls in the palm of his hand and his fingers went up between my legs, pressing on my perineum. I widened my stance, grasping his head, my own head falling back.
There was no way I could last long. I didn’t even think about warning him that I was going to shoot. I just shot and he drank it, sucking on me even after I came. It was like he didn’t want to stop, but then he slowed and reluctantly leaned back.
I felt funny… weird. Jessie, an older boy, had just sucked my dick and I came in his mouth.
I turned from him quietly, pulling back on my underwear and then my shorts. Then I stood, facing away, trying to decide whether I should leave or something.
“I guess I better go,” I murmured, not looking back at him.
“Are you mad at me?” Jessie asked in almost a tremulous voice.
I shook my head.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m really, really sorry.”
I turned because it sounded like he was crying. He was. There were tears on his cheeks.
“I promise I won’t do it again,” he said. “I want us to be friends. I don’t want you to go.”
Even back then, I was a bit tenderhearted, and I did like Jessie. I wanted to stay friends, too. My dick was still a little thick, and his still looked hard, pointing down his shorts leg. It looked big. On impulse, I just grabbed it, right through the shorts.
He smiled, uncertainly, drying his eyes. “You sure?”
“Yep,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of his wheelchair. “Can I see yours?”
He sniffled and shifted in his chair, studying me to see if I meant it.
I gave his dick a good squeeze.
“Okay,” he said, smiling uncertainly.
I unfastened his pants. Jessie grabbed the arms of his wheelchair and pushed himself up while I pulled his pants and underwear down. His dick sprung up. It was more than a fifteen-year-old version of mine or Donny’s. It was a big one, and I remember having the fleeting thought that Jessie deserved a break like having a big dick. And I told him it was big. I had only Donny’s and mine to go by, but I knew it was big; sort of flattened and thick, with a crown a little smaller in size than the shaft.
I pulled his underwear and pants all the way off so I could get between his legs. They were skinny legs, and almost ugly, but he had very smooth white skin and soft leg hairs. I ran my hands over them. “Can you feel anything at all?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not really.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him, running my hands up the insides of his thighs. “They feel nice to me.”
I lifted his balls on the palm of my hand. The skin was all moist and relaxed; not like chicken skin the way scrotums sometimes get.
“I can feel that,” He said, quietly. “I can feel anything except down my legs.”
I bent over his balls and sniffed. He smelled of sex. I liked his smell. I took hold of his big dick and it felt way different from holding Donny’s or my own. It was hot and fat and the weight of it excited me.
Scooting forward on my knees, I bent over Jessie’s lap and touched his moist crown with the tip of my tongue. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but there was only a little saltiness. I sucked it into my mouth and tried to do for him what he did for me, though I couldn’t get much more than the end of his dick in.
He jerked and grasped the sides of my head. “Watch your teeth!” he exclaimed. “Cover your teeth with your lips like this,” he told me, showing me how. “Or just keep them off my dick.”
I looked at him dumbly, his dick in my mouth.
He chuckled. “I read it in a story.”
With a shrug, I tried to cover my teeth and continued. I used my hand on his shaft to make up for not getting much into my mouth, and I played with his balls. I figured that when he came, I’d swallow it like he did me. But I wasn’t prepared for how much he came.
My cum was still the thin, watery kind of pubescence. His was thick and white, and there was a lot of it. The taste was slightly acrid and the back of my throat constricted, but I managed to swallow, trying not to think about it.
A lot of cum ran down his shaft and onto his balls. I ran for a wash rag and knelt between his legs to clean him up. Neither of us said anything while I did it. His dick remained thick and rubbery.
“Did you like it?” I asked, sitting back on my haunches.
“No shit!” he said with a grin. “That was great!”
I stood up.
“You’ve got a hard-on again,” he said. “Did you like doing it?”
I looked down at the bulge in the front of my shorts and shrugged. “I liked everything but swallowing. I’m not sure I liked that part.”
“Do you want me to suck you again?” he asked.
I bit my lip.
“Tommy,” he said quietly, “would you… would you, like, sit in my lap, naked?”
I nodded and dropped my pants and underwear again. Stepping from them, I moved to sit across Jessie’s lap. We shifted me around so that his dick pointed up between my legs.
“Do you ever daydream about doing sexy stuff?” he asked, wrapping his arms around the side of my waist, holding me in his lap.
“All the time,” I said, truthfully.
“Have you ever thought about doing sexy stuff with guys?”
“Some,” I said, nodding. “Like, I thought about doing some stuff with my buddy, Donny.”
“I’ve thought about doing stuff with you,” he said as I closed a hand around his erection and pulled it against my balls and the base of my own erection.
I looked at him.
“I thought about doing this,” he said. “I thought about you sitting in my lap, and us being naked and just playing with each other’s dicks.”
Our faces were fairly close together, and his grew sort of serious. He rested his forehead against mine. “You know what else I dreamed about? I dreamed about kissing you. Can I kiss you, Tommy?” he asked in a whisper.
I had to think about it. I definitely hadn’t thought about kissing a boy. “Okay,” I whispered.
Very slowly, he rolled his forehead off mine and tilted his head, placing his lips gently on mine. Breath rushed from our nostrils at the same time and we breathed in each other’s air. He slipped a hand from around my waist and held the back of my head as he pressed his lips more firmly to mine.
I knew about frenching and, when his tongue pressed between my lips, I opened my mouth. His tongue probed in.
Of all the things we did that afternoon, kissing was perhaps the most exciting. It wasn’t simply the forbidden nature and strangeness of kissing another boy, it was also the sensations of his tongue in my mouth, then my tongue in his, the intimate closeness of our faces, and then the feeling of holding his fifteen-year-old face in my hands while his large hands roamed my twelve-year-old body. Especially my legs; Jessie liked my legs.
With me in his lap, he rolled his wheelchair to his bedroom and I helped him onto his bed, then lay beside him. He worked up onto his side and took my dick into his hand, so I took his into mine.
“I can’t believe this,” he whispered. “I really have dreamed about doing things with you.” He smiled sadly. “I’ve dreamed about a lot of things that’ll never happen. I didn’t think this ever would.” His eyes met mine. “We still cool?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling sincerely. No second thoughts. I was hard, and even at twelve, a hard-on has no conscience, but I was also enjoying being with him like that. I was enjoying more than the sex. I was enjoying that Jessie had dreamed about me, and I liked him a whole lot.
“You wanna try a sixty-nine?” he asked.
“Sure!” I knew what a sixty-nine was. I switched positions and when Jessie rolled onto his back, I got onto all-fours over him, head-to-toe. He guided my hips so that my dick was right over his face and his dick was right under mine. We grabbed each other by the dick and started sucking.
He came first, and I came shortly after. And then I pulled my shorts back on and helped Jessie on with his, and we rolled back out to game on the Playstation, until his parents came home.
They invited me to supper, and when Jessie and I gamed on the Playstation late,
they called my folks to say I’d sleep over with Jessie. And I did.
I received only one email after the last entry in this series. It appears that user interest is dropping. As you know, reader emails are the only pay we Nifty writers receive, and interest in this series appears to be dropping. I have another story or two to post, and then I suppose I'll move on to other things. Thank you to any of you who have hung on with me this far. :) My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org.