Date: Sun, 12 Aug 2007 14:21:57 -0400
From: Peter Eater <homo_erotica@hotmail.com>
Subject: -= CP and Me - Part 2: Cat and Mouse =-

Warning: The following story is true; it contains explicit descriptions of
young male nudity, masturbation, and oral sex. If you are under 18 or it is
illegal for you to read this because of your location (county, state,
country, etc), please stop now.

In telling this story, I attempt to portray my early gay experiences as
typical of the sexual awakenings of a closeted gay teen in the 70's. While
the experiences herein are true, they actually happened over the course of
about four years or so; in the interest of brevity, I have condensed some
of these multiple encounters into one. A couple of years into my relations
with this individual, I also found myself becoming sexually active with
another high school friend but that story is for another series.

I have long wanted to tell this story, and I hope it excites you as it does
me as I remember it. This is the second in a series, my first, so please
let me know if you liked it and want to hear more. I enjoy reading the
postings on this site, and I'm eager to read posts of your experiences as
well.

Send all feedback to homo_erotica@hotmail.com.

-= CONTINUED FROM PART 1 =-

By this time, I was getting so horny I wanted to just plow my face between
his legs and start licking his balls. Being basically shy and quite unsure
of his reaction, however, I was prepared to follow his lead, as I always
did. I simply continued back up his body, relishing every minute of it. All
the while I was anticipating what might come next...

-= CP and Me - Part 2: Cat and Mouse =-

Having completed my round-trip of the backside of his body, I swung my legs
from their straddling position and sat at his left side. I wanted him to
turn over, so that I could continue my massage and - hopefully - get my
hands on the prize. His briefs were still around his knees, so if he would
just turn over the object of my desire would finally be within my grasp.

"Other side..." I suggested, breathlessly.

"OK"

As he began to turn over, my hopes were suddenly dashed; with a grunt of
effort, he reached down and pulled his briefs back up around his perfect
ass, taking care - I noticed - to reach down his front side and tuck in his
jewels as he did so.

'Damn', I thought...

Was he just being modest? Was he not interested in - or oblivious to the
possiblities of - taking this to the next level? Or, just perhaps, he was
trying to hide, like me, a throbbing erection...

My mind reeled with disappointment and hope at the same time.

Once turned over, he lay on his pillow with his hands behind his head. With
only the soft moonlight streaming through the windows as illumination, I
took in his upper body with a lustful craving more powerful than even my
fantasies had led me to believe possible.

He had a perfect male 'V' shape; broad shoulders and muscular pecs leading
to flat abs and a narrow waist. While I had taken in the sight, briefly and
surreptitiously, before beginning his backrub, now, emboldened by the
physical intimacy we were engaged in, I felt more comfortable openly
admiring his burgeoning manliness.

Consciously denying myself a full view of his cotton-covered package, I
knelt now at his hip facing him; I was enjoying the way my fantasy was
beginning to unfold, and I wanted to prolong the excitement and sense of
anticipation as long as possible.

Holding the bottle of lotion over his chest, I began pumping small amounts
here and there on his chest and abdomen.

"It's cold", he said, to which I responded by placing my hands on his torso
and rubbing it in.

"Better?", I asked, as the warmth of my hands combined with the heat of his
body to bring out the intoxicating scent of the lotion. To this day, the
smell of Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion makes me horny.

"Mmmm..."

Whether from the initial shock of the coldness of the lotion, or from the
touch of my palms against his chest, his small brown nipples stood erect
amidst the small rings of dark brown hair atop the firm mounds of his
pectoral muscles. Shifting my hands slightly outwards, I massaged them in
circular motions with my thumbs while my fingers caressed his upper ribcage
just below his hairy armpits.

Moving my hands upwards, I began in earnest kneading his shoulders and
upper arms, which prompted him to remove his hands from behind his head and
lay them loosely at his sides. In stark contrast to my inner nervousness
and emotional turmoil, it seemed as though this was perfectly natural to
him.

Repositioning myself so I was kneeling at his side, perpendicular to him, I
moved my right hand inwards and down, brushing across his left nipple again
and sweeping through the thick patch of dark hair developing in the middle
of his chest. While my right hand followed the light trail of hair down to
his abs, my left took its place at his chest and continued my attentions to
his pecs and nipples.

From this vantage point, I could now drink in the entirity of his fantastic
form. Glancing at his face, I saw his longish brown hair brushing lightly
against his closed eyelids, allowing me to ogle him without fear of being
discovered. He seemed fully relaxed, enjoying the sensations I was giving
him.

As my hands continued roaming his torso, I took particular interest in the
light treasure trail that thickened as it approached his elastic
waistband. Absently brushing first up and then down the thickest growth
between his belly button and waistband, I was enthralled by the way it
became fuzzy and tufted as I stroked up against the direction of the hair
growth, and then defined and darker as I stroked downwards. Was it my
imagination, or did the bulge in his briefs appear a little fuller than it
had at first glance? Evidently, my attentions to his body were having the
desired effect.

Cautiously, I allowed the fingertips of my right hand to slide just under
the waistband of his tight white briefs. Immediately, I could feel a dense
bush of curly pubic hair which, even at its topmost fringe, seemed to wrap
itself around my fingers. Keeping my hand just under the elastic, I slid it
to the right, out towards his hip, and plunged it further down until it
reached the leg hole.

He didn't seem alarmed at my boldness, so I left my right hand in place
while my left hand took its place in the middle, again caressing the top of
his bush, then moving my hand outward until I had my hands under the fabric
at his hips. Somehow, I willed myself not to hook my thumbs on his
waistband and push his shorts down; I still didn't have a clear sign that
he knew what I was after, and I didn't want to tip my hand.

I now changed positions, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Squirting
some lotion on my hands, I rubbed them together and placed my hands on the
tops of his legs. Working outwards and down, I traced lazy ovals around to
his thighs and down towards his knees, then over the top, and up on the
insides of his legs, allowing my fingertips to penetrate the elastic of the
leg holes at the top of my arc. When I got to the top, my thumbs took the
place of my fingers under the fabric as I lightly brushed past the very
outside of his scrotum.

After a few of these broad ovals, I let my hands fall to the outside of his
thighs and stroked upwards, burying my fingers beneath the fabric until
they reached the band at his waist. Turning them inwards, I then dragged my
hands down the front of his hips through the hairy outer points of his
triangular bush, and then down toward the insides of his legs as they
emerged from the legholes.

At this point, I desperately wanted to place my hand directly on the front
of his briefs and feel his manhood; though not fully tenting, I could
clearly see his semi-erect cock outlined in the white cotton. Falling to
his left side, it looked massive to me, and the bulge of his scrotum filled
the pouch to its limits.

With a willpower I didn't know I had, I wrenched my attention away from his
crotch and reached up to his midsection, placing my hands on his hips and
stroking downwards over the top of the outsides of his briefs. As I came
down on his left side, my thumb brushed the head of his dick which sent a
thrill through me I'll never forget.

Fearing I had crossed a line somehow, I quickly shifted my position, and
laid on my side to his right. With my head propped up in my left hand, I
allowed my right hand to continue lightly brushing across his chest and
around his stomach.

Evidently, he had taken my shift in position to mean the massage was over,
and he resumed our earlier discussions about school and, in particular, one
girl he liked.

And so my dream evaporated; had I been found out? While I appeared
interested in his conversation, in reality my mind was busy thinking that I
had pushed the envelope too far and this was his way of distancing himself
from my wanton overtures.

"Gotta pee" he said, and I reluctantly removed my hand from his body. He
disappeared into the bathroom across the room.

When he was done, he stopped in front of my aquarium and studied the
fish. I joined him at his side, and we made some small talk about the types
of fish. While we were doing this, I couldn't keep my eyes off his
pronounced bulge; the wavering blue light of the fishtank seemed to
emphasize and enhance the shadows of its rounded shapes.

He seemed to be admiring himself in the colored light, as well, and the
reflection of his bright white briefs showed on the side of the tank as
though it were a mirror. Using his middle finger, he traced the line of
hair from his belly button to the elastic of his waistband, smoothing it
and defining the line just as I had done earlier.

Before I could stop myself, I reached out and brushed the hair upwards,
mussing it up; he smoothed it again, and again I reached out my
hand. "Stop", he weakly protested, giggling.

I had an overpowering urge to drop to my knees, grab his waist, turn him
toward me, and bury my face in his crotch; instead, I simply brushed my
fingers up through his hairy treasure trail again and then smoothed it
myself, giggling back at him.

We returned to the bed and got under the sheets. Laying there in the dark
with him, I couldn't think of anything but his cock, and my mind raced with
schemes to get him fully naked the next time...if there was a next time.

This was developing into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse. As much as I
wanted it, I wasn't really prepared to be the aggressor; I didn't want to
be labeled 'queer', so if anything were to happen, it would have to appear
that it was his idea.

I was afraid that after tonight, even though he had obviously been enjoying
my touch, he wasn't interested in taking it further and it would never
happen again.

As it turned out, I needn't have worried; and I didn't have long to wait...

-= CONTINUED IN PART 3 =-

Please let me know if you'd like to hear more...

homo_erectus@hotmail.com