A BOOK OF FIRSTS, Pt 24
If my parents had known just why my cousin got in trouble at school, they might not have agreed to take him in. They certainly wouldn’t have had me share my room with him. However, their focus and concern were all on my aunt; my mom’s sister. Aunt Ella had a drug dependency problem and who knew what else.
The first I heard of it was in December, when my parents sat me down in the kitchen, not long before Christmas.
“Spencer,” my dad said, “we’re going to take in your cousin, Yuma, to live with us for a while. You’ve heard us talk of him before.”
I nodded. I’d never met Yuma because they lived up in Wisconsin. I just knew that Yuma was older than me.
“How old is he?” I asked.
“He’s three years older than you; he’s thirteen,” my mom told me.
Besides my room and my parents’ room, my mom used the only other bedroom in our house as her sewing room, and it was full of junk.
“Where’s he going to stay?” I asked.
My mom glanced at my dad. He leaned toward me.
“We need you to share your room with him, Spencer. It’ll still be your room, though.”
“How long will he be with us?” I asked.
“Well,” my dad said slowly, glancing at my mom and back to me, “Yuma’s gotten into a little trouble at school. Your aunt didn’t say what kind of trouble, and we didn’t ask.”
“God knows what he’s been through, living with my sister,” Mom said.
Dad continued. “We think it’ll be a whole lot better for Yuma if he comes to live with us for a while, and that could be for a month, a few months, or even a year or two.”
I frowned. “What about Denver?” I asked, referring to Yuma’s older brother.
“Denver’s staying with his mom,” Dad said. “He’s a senior in high school this year, and he’ll be out on his own, soon enough.”
“Do you mind, honey?” Mom asked, patting my forearm.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what to think. As an only child, I knew I was a bit spoiled, and I certainly didn’t want to share my room with a stranger, but what only son didn’t want a brother?
The way my mom and dad talked about my aunt, I almost expected Yuma to come in rags and bearing diseases. I was surprised, because he arrived two days after Christmas in nice clothes, and he was a nice looking guy. He had deep blue eyes, dark brown hair, and pretty lips. He had sort of a wide, flat body that looked strong, but lean.
He was sullen and quiet, though. Mom and Dad took us back to my room and showed him the used bed and dresser they’d bought for him. Then they asked me to help him unpack, and they left with that ‘let’s leave them alone and see if they get along’ look.
There wasn’t much for me to do but sit on his bed and look through his stuff as he unpacked it. He hadn’t brought much with him except clothes and a skateboard. He had a couple of books and I looked through them.
He glanced at the door to see if my parents were gone. They were.
“So,” he said off-handedly, “have your parents warned you about me?”
“They haven’t told you anything about me?” Yuma asked skeptically.
“Not really. They said you’re thirteen.”
“Did they tell you I got in trouble at school?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he did, he made a point of not looking at me.
“Did they tell you what kind of trouble?”
“No,” I said. “My dad said your mom didn’t tell him what kind of trouble, and he said he didn’t ask.”
Yuma paused with a couple of shirts in his hand, then moved toward the chest.
“So your parents don’t know either?” he asked.
He visibly relaxed.
“So, what kind of trouble?” I asked, even though my parents had said not to.
Yuma paused and shrugged. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
He wept that night. I heard him, across the room in his bed. At ten, I didn’t know what to do. I felt sorry for him, with his mom and brother so far away. Even if she was some kind of a monster, it had to be difficult for Yuma, being alone. I decided to do what my mom did when I cried.
I got out of bed in my pajamas and crossed over to Yuma’s. His back was to me, so I just crawled on top of the covers behind him, sort of up onto his pillow, and wrapped my arm around his shoulders to hold him as best as I could.
He grew quiet, but just as I was about to get up and return to my bed, he rolled toward me and buried his face in my chest, hugging me. I didn’t know what to do for a moment. Finally, I stroked his hair, and actually fell asleep that way.
I woke when Yuma rolled away, and I returned to my own bed, and slept hard the rest of the night.
Neither of us said anything about it the next day, but Yuma was friendly to me. That night, after my parents said good night, I listened to see if he was going to weep again. He was quiet, but awake.
“Spencer,” he finally whispered.
“Can I hug you till I go to sleep?”
“Sure,” I said, getting out of bed.
He threw back the cover and had me crawl in with him. Yuma slept in only underwear. I slept in pajamas, no underwear.
“Denver used to hug me at night,” Yuma told me. “Get behind me, and hug me until I’m asleep, okay?” He rolled to face the wall.
I moved in behind him. He was taller than me, what with him being thirteen and me being ten, so I didn’t exactly fit him. I wrapped an arm around his chest, my head behind his on the pillow. He reached back and pulled my belly to his back, so I scooted all the way up to him.
“You can stay with me all night… if you want.”
Yuma had a nice smell, and I nuzzled a little into the back of his hair, relaxing, waiting for him to fall asleep. I fell asleep first, and woke in the night with Yuma spooned behind me. It was a good feeling. Though he’d been sleeping in it only two nights, the bed was full of his smell. His taller body was warm and comfortable. I stayed in his bed.
“Do you want me to sleep with you again tonight?” I asked, after my parents said good night the next evening.
“Yeah,” he said.
I got up from my bed and came to Yuma’s. He held up the covers, and I crawled in. Once again, he turned to face the wall and I held him from behind while he fell asleep.
I slept with him the next night, and the next. I woke one morning, on my back. I had a stiffy, and it was pointing clean out the fly of my pajamas. My balls were out, too. I had the distinct feeling that Yuma had just rolled away and I wondered if he noticed my stiffy under the covers somehow and got grossed out.
But he said nothing the next day, and I slept in his bed again that night; and the next.
“Did you sleep in Yuma’s bed last night?” my mom asked at breakfast after about a week of me sleeping in Yuma’s bed. Yuma had already left the table and was in the other room.
“Yeah,” I told her. I explained how Yuma wept the first night and I hugged him till he fell asleep, and how I offered to do it again, and how he explained that Denver always held him at night.
My mom’s eyes teared up. She kissed my forehead and gave me a little hug. “You can’t do that forever, sweetie,” she said, “but it’s okay for a while until Yuma feels at home.”
I got up from the table to leave.
“Spencer,” Mom said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell your dad about this for a while. You know what a macho guy he is; he might not understand about Yuma needing some love.”
I nodded and left, feeling a little strange that I was giving Yuma some love. But I felt good at the same time. It felt good to do good for Yuma.
After my parents said good night that night, I went to Yuma’s bed, and when I crawled in with him, I told him what Mom said. He considered that for a moment, lying with me hugging him from behind.
“Spencer,” he said, quietly.
“Maybe you better sleep in your own bed.”
“I like sleeping with you,” I told him. I had been feeling, finally, like I had a brother. Hugging Yuma from behind while I was sleeping, or him hugging me, had given me a feeling of contentment and happiness that I loved. I was reluctant to give it up. “Don’t you want me sleeping with you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, reaching back to pat my butt. “But if your mom says your dad will freak, then maybe you shouldn’t.”
“But he never comes in my room. Mom’s the one who always wakes me in the morning, and she only knocks and doesn’t come in because of my privacy. We’ll keep the door locked, okay?”
Yuma grew quiet, thinking. “Okay,” he finally said.
I hugged him hard from behind, pressing my body to his.
“Spencer,” he said.
“If you ever get a stiffy at night, it’s okay if it rubs on me; I mean, if we’re hugging in our sleep, you don’t have to stop hugging. Guys just get stiffies, okay?”
I was relieved. Besides waking the one time when my stiffy was completely out of my pajamas, I’d awakened two other times with stiffies, and one time, my dick had been wet. Only half-awake, I thought at first that it had been sweating, but then I wondered if I’d had one of those ‘nocturnal emissions’ my Health Ed teacher told us guys about. I thought I’d be older before that happened.
“It’s really okay?” I asked.
I considered it. “Yuma?”
“If you get a stiffy in the night, it’s okay if it rubs me while we’re hugging.”
Yuma didn’t say anything, and we fell asleep.
I woke in the night, that night or the next. Yuma was hugging me from behind like he often did, only this time I tried to see if he had a boner. It felt like he did, pressing my bottom. I was glad we were cool we could do that. He started rubbing it against my bottom, and I fell back asleep.
Friday night, my parents left us on our own for the first time.
“Do we need to get a sitter, or will you two behave yourselves?” my mom had asked the night before.
We promised to behave ourselves, and my parents decided to give our new ‘live-in sitter’ a shot. Before they left, Mom made sure we knew the phone number where we could reach them. This was back before cell phones.
As soon as Mom and Dad left the house, I whooped and jumped onto Yuma’s back. “We’re free!” I cried out.
He laughed and gave me a horseback ride through the living room.
“You better behave yourself,” he warned, tossing me onto the couch. “I’m in charge and I’ll have to spank you if you don’t behave.”
“Who put you in charge?” I demanded, jumping from the couch. “I might just have to spank you!”
He laughed and we wrestled. He managed to sit down on the couch and get me across his lap – I let him – like he was going to spank me. And then, holding me across his lap, he did spank me. Whop!
“Aah!” I cried out, though it hadn’t really hurt much. He’d cupped his hand to make it sound louder.
Whop! He did it again. We were in shorts and t-shirts, so I was feeling it, a little. I squirmed, laughing, but protesting.
“Okay! Okay!” I said. “I’ll behave!”
“You promise?” Yuma asked in a low voice.
“Yeah! I’ll behave and I’ll only spank you three times.”
“Okay! Okay! Two times!”
The funny thing was, even though his popping stung a little, wiggling around on him, I was getting a stiffy. It rubbed on the tops of his thighs, and as I moved, I thought I felt Yuma get a stiffy as well; I thought I could feel it against my belly.
“Once!” I cried out.
“Okay! I won’t spank you at all!”
Yuma rested his hand on my butt. It felt good there after the ‘spanking’.
“My butt’s sore,” I told him.
“Well, now you’ll behave,” Yuma said simply.
He rubbed my bottom. I wiggled around on him. My stiffy rubbed on what I was sure was his stiffy, pointing at right angles.
“You should kiss my butt and make it well,” I told him.
“Yeah, you’d love that,” he murmured, rubbing my bottom. He slipped his hand inside the back of my shorts and underwear, feeling my bare skin.
“That feels good,” I told him.
“Your butt feels hot,” he said. He started tugging down the elastic waistband of both my shorts and underwear. “Let me make sure your butt’s okay.”
I lifted my hips and reached under to free my stiffy as he shoved and tugged my shorts and underwear down onto my thighs. Then I settled my lap back onto his.
Yuma’s hands roamed my bottom. “Your butt’s pink,” he observed. “I didn’t mean to pop you that hard.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “It didn’t really hurt.
His finger traced up my butt crack.
“And it feels okay now,” I said. “What you’re doing feels good.”
His fingers slid down between the backs of my legs, rubbing under me and down behind my balls. He tugged my shorts down farther, and I kicked them off so I could open my legs wider for him to probe between. I felt his fingers under my balls.
He said it was okay to rub my stiffy on him at night. I did it now, grinding into his lap. One of his hands roamed down the backs of my thighs and between my legs. His other hand caressed my bottom.
“Spencer,” he said in a thick voice.
“Yeah,” I answered, dreamily.
“I’m going to push my pants down, too, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, lifting myself up on my knees and elbows long enough for him to push down his shorts and underwear and kick them off. Looking down, under my body, I could see his boner, pointing, deep pink, up his belly and over his t-shirt.. A thirteen-year-old’s boner looks awesome to a ten-year-old.
He shifted and when I settled back down, my stiffy rubbed him at the base of his and at the top of his balls. We circled our hips a little as he resumed caressing my butt. It felt incredible. I could feel the hot thickness of his erection across my bare skin, from under my own erection and out to my hip.
Closing my eyes, I circled my hips, enjoying. Yuma’s fingers explored my bottom, spreading my butt cheeks, rubbing down my perineum, over the backs of my legs. His lap ground up against mine. I liked the feel of his boner as I slid my stiffy across its base.
“I’m gonna do something, Spencer, okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled, contentedly.
I felt his finger in my crack. His finger was wet. He pressed it at my butt hole and then, suddenly, slid it inside me.
I gasped and arched back from his lap, squeezing his finger with my buttocks.
“Relax, Spencer. Just relax. This’ll feel good.”
Hesitantly, I lay back down and did my best to relax my butt. Slowly, I found that it did feel good; especially when he began to move his finger around inside me. I rubbed my dick under Yuma’s and moaned softly.
Yuma moved, too, rubbing his stiffy under mine. His free hand rested at the top of my butt and base of my spine, and he held it there firmly while he slid his finger slowly in and out of my bottom
It felt better and better and better until suddenly, the most incredible feelings ran through my body, all radiating from my undeveloped genitals. When it was over, I lay breathing hard across Yuma’s lap. His finger was still in my butt, but not moving.
“Did you like that?” Yuma asked.
“Oh, wow!” I murmured.
His hips moved under me, more casually now.
“Have you ever jacked off?” he asked.
“I tried it.”
“Was this the first time you came? Had an orgasm?”
“It that what happened?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder at him. “I thought it was something you did to me… you know… inside.”
“It was, sorta,” he said with a grin. He pulled his finger from inside my butt.
“Oh!” I murmured, feeling the difference.
Yuma patted my bottom. “I’m gonna come now. Wanna see sperm?”
“Oh, yeah!” I said. Getting up, I climbed astride his lap, facing him, my still erect dick almost touching his. I wanted a good view.
Yuma pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. I could see muscles in his chest and he had a nice, V-shape torso. His skin looked as soft as it felt at night when I held him. Yuma closed his thumb and a couple of fingers around his dick, just below the crown, at the spot sensitive to rubbing, and he started stroking himself up and down. We both watched.
While stroking, Yuma pulled my butt forward so that my balls rested on his and our dicks were almost aligned. He closed his hand around both our dicks, holding the undersides together, and he stroked.
“The trouble I got into at school,” he said.
“I was doing this with a boy.”
“No. I meant having sex with a boy.”
“I thought we were having sex!” I exclaimed. “We are, right? Sorta?”
Yuma smiled. “Sorta.”
Yuma’s eyes dropped back to our laps. “There’s a way to kneel on a toilet,” he continued, “and bend over with your butt out over the end… and no one can see your feet. So if a guy’s behind you, butt fucking you, anyone outside the stall can only see one pair of feet on the floor, and it looks like you’re taking a piss… except that you’re standing back a little.”
His eyes rose to mine; gauging my reaction.
“So what happened?” I asked.
His eyes dropped back to where he was playing with our dicks.
“So my friend, Ricky, was kneeling on the toilet with his pants down and his butt back, and I had my dick in him, fucking…”
“You had your dick in his butt? Like you had your finger in mine?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Yuma said, looking up. “You liked how my finger felt, right?”
“Well, a dick just takes a little longer to adjust to, but it feels good, too. It feels good for both guys.” His eyes dropped again. “Anyway, Ricky and I were doin’ a quicky in the last stall when I heard the bathroom door open and I heard Riley Jacobs, this real asshole, comin’ in saying, ‘They’re in the one at the end, Mr. Davis.’”
“So I told Ricky to sit, and I tried sneaking over the top to the next stall, but there was another guy there, and Mr. Davis saw me.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
“Yeah. I got suspended and everybody in school found out about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked down. He was loosing his erection. So I reached in to take it. “Yours feels big, Yuma.”
He smiled. “Only compared to yours. It’s about normal. Yours will be as big as mine when you’re my age.” He pumped his hips, pushing his returning erection up through my hand. I stroked his and mine together the way he had. His grew instantly hard again.
His boner was unlike anything I’d ever handled before. Like any boy, the first time he handles an older boy’s meat, I was fascinated by its size, feel, and heat.
“I really like your dick,” I told Yuma. I grinned. “It feels hot.”
Yuma slid his hands up and down my upper arms, watching me play. He stuck a finger in his mouth; a different finger than before. After he wet his finger real good, he reached under my bottom and stuck it up inside me again.
I paused, my hands on our dicks, as he probed.
“Spencer,” he said, quietly, “can I put my dick up your butt?”
I nodded, concentrating on the feel inside.
Yuma lifted my bottom, bringing me forward over his dick. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders. Yuma pulled his finger out and put spit into my hole. Then he guided my bottom down. I felt the end of his dick at my hole, and it popped in as I lowered myself. I stopped.
“Take your time, Spence,” Yuma said, his eyes looking down his belly at his dick and my bottom.
It wasn’t bad. I’ve heard that the first time can hurt real bad, but it didn’t hurt me, and I settled onto his lap pretty quickly.
Yuma’s eyes closed and he moaned softly. It obviously felt good for him, so I wiggled my hips for him. When I did, I discovered my own pleasant sensations. I rocked my hips forward and back and my stiffy slid up and back down Yuma’s belly. That felt good, too, so I leaned forward, swayed my back, and angled my hips to rub my stiffy more firmly on his belly.
Yuma responded, sitting upright and wrapping his arms around me. Resting my forehead on his, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rocked in his lap. Yuma pumped up into me. We started moving together against each other and quickly found a little rhythm.
We moved with the natural athleticism of slender ten and thirteen-year-old boys; boys who had become instant friends. Thin and flexible, we tightened our embrace, belly-to-belly, cheek to cheek, and we moved in mutual pleasure.
“This feels so good,” Yuma murmured.
“Yeah. real good,” I agreed.
I hugged his neck, rubbing my stiffy on his belly, and Yuma clung to my butt cheeks, pulling my bottom as I rocked forward and back.
He came pretty quickly. I felt his cum, all wet and slippery at my bottom. His dick softened and fell out, to my disappointment. But Yuma lay back on the couch and let me rub my stiffy on him till I had another dry orgasm.
We had cleaned ourselves up, having showered together, and were watching a video when my parents came home that night. They looked pleased to find us and the house intact.
After I crawled into bed with Yuma, we took off my pajama bottoms and his underwear and put them behind him on the bed in case we needed them. I kept my pajama top on, just on the off chance something happened and my parents came in. With the covers up, it’d look like I still had my pajamas on.
Yuma laid me on my back and taught me how to kiss. Then he opened my legs and put his dick inside me again, and we hugged belly to belly, just like we did on the couch, only lying down.
For weeks, I crawled into Yuma’s bed at night, always making sure to muss up my bed before we sexed and slept together. Weeks became months. But then, I think my parents must have gotten wind of the type of trouble Yuma had gotten into at school. That, or they suspected we were getting too close. They said it was because it was clear that Yuma would be with us a long time. At any rate, they cleared out the third bedroom, which was half storage and half a sewing room for my mom, and made it into a bedroom for Yuma.
It put a damper on our nocturnal activities, but we still found opportunities, even at night, on nights when my parents were away. We also took up camping.
Yuma got close to another boy in high school, and I sexed with the two of them twice. I had two friends I played with sexually, but I stayed really close to Yuma until he left for college. That was hard for me; Yuma had become my brother. That Fall, my parents let me take a bus to visit him two different weekends; then two times in the Spring. That summer, Yuma worked on a summer study program close to his school, and I barely saw him.
I got a drivers license and visited him a couple of times again the next fall. But I started doing girls, and Yuma got a boyfriend. I made fewer and fewer trips to see Yuma, and by the time I left for college myself, we weren’t seeing much of each other.
We still do see each other, of course, and we talk from time to time. We’re still close, but we haven’t had sex in years. I’m married now, with a couple of kids. I consider myself bi, though. Yuma has a partner, but if they ever split up – and I hope for Yuma’s sake they don’t – but if they ever did, I thought I might like to visit him again.
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