Date: Mon, 07 Sep 2020 15:48:30 +0000 From: kleiner.gespenst Subject: Hot Tub Cowboy Part 1 (Revised) The story of a transplanted New Yorker and his best friend in the Sierras. Say there, Buckaroo, if you like cowboys, or hot tubs, or stories about both, or really anything published here, can you consider donating to keep lights on? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ============================================================= "Oh dude, this is sweet," Obie Moore sighed, as his shoulders submerged in the hot, bubbling water. Closing his eyes, and letting his long dark hair swirl around his shoulders, the 13-year-old tried not to think about his nearly naked friend, on the other side of the hot tub. "Right?" 11-year-old Zev Becker replied, savoring the older boy's approval, then gazing up into the cloudless, starry Nevada night. The two boys were exhausted from their church youth group's day trip up to Lake Tahoe, where the deep powder was perfect for snowboarding until you dropped. Obie, a recent transplant when his family moved from New York City over the summer, was new to the sport, and stuck to the bunny slopes, while Zev and the rest of the kids hit the more advanced runs. Returning bruised from a couple of tumbles, Obie was glad the other kids totally beat as well, and he wouldn't have to keep up with the usual non-stop joking. And he'd gotten a little tingly when Zev, sitting next to him on the church bus, fell asleep and slumped onto his shoulder. Most of the other kids were snoozing, and didn't notice as Obie slid his arm around Zev's shoulder, to cradle him against the bus' jarring lurches. "He's so damned cute," Obie thought. The 8th-grader had immediately noticed the slender blonde boy at the first church service his family attended. They went to different schools, and it was a good month or two before they finally met at a church breakfast. By then, Obie became part of the popular group, for reasons he couldn't fathom. Back in Brooklyn, he'd been just another kid, lost in the crowd. When his father took a job with a tech company in Reno, he was sure he'd be an outcast among cowboys. But the city was booming with families from all over the country, and the only real cowboy he'd yet met was Zev. Well, sort of a cowboy. Obie knew Zev's family had horses. After the 50 or so teenagers stumbled out of the bus at the church parking lot, Zev's mom waved the boys over to her waiting SUV, and noticed Obie's slight limp. "Looks like you boys had good day," she said, driving them all south to Washoe City. "After dinner, jump in the hot tub." Obie frowned. "Wish I could, Mrs. Becker, but I didn't bring a swim suit." "Oh, darling, just wear your skivvies," she replied, turning on NPR, pretending not to notice Obie's slight embarrassment. "When we get home, you boys shower before we eat. You're both pretty ripe." Entering through the kitchen, the boys pulled off boots and jackets. "Gotta call my mom," Obie said, pulling his phone out of his backpack. "Then I got the first shower," Zev smiled, and trotted out of the room. Obie looked wistfully at the boy's graceful little form. He really wanted to watch the younger boy undress. Imagining what might be concealed by Zev's baggie snow pants, Obie's dick began to twitch and harden, and he had to readjust himself. It had been stupidly good luck that when the Tahoe trip was announced at the church's after-services coffee, Zev and his family were nearby. Obie's mom was loudly insistent he couldn't go on the ski trip because they would be taking his older brother to play a hockey match in Truckee that weekend. "I'm sorry, honey, but y couldn't stay by yourself," she's said. Zev, overhearing, immediately volunteered to host Obie for the weekend. Though the boys barely knew each other, Obie was stoked at his good luck. He'd been crushing hard on the younger boy, and hoped that at least they'd become better friends. And here he was, finally on a sleepover with a boy who'd lit up his fantasies before sleep, when his hand slid into his underpants in the dark. After calling his parents, Obie asked Mrs. Becker where he should go. "Just head down the hall there, Obie, and Zev's room's the last on the right," Mrs. Becker said, pulling a lasagna out of the oven. "Dinner's in 10 minutes, K?" Eagerly, the 8th grader shouldered his backpack and hustled down the hall. His hopes to catch Zev getting dressed were dashed when he found his freshly washed friend in sweat pants and a t-shirt, playing a game on his phone. "Bathroom's right across the hall, dude," the younger boy said, smiling. A few minutes later, a squeaky clean Obie padded down the hall in his own sweatpants and t-shirt for dinner with Zev and his mom, just as his Zev's big sister breezed by on her way to a party. Zev's dad, a successful artist, was at an opening in San Francisco. "Obie's an unusual name," Mrs. Becker said. "Is it short for something?" The boy sighed, and recited in a low voice, "Auberon, the Norse king of the faeries." Mrs. Becker fought a smile while chewing a bit of food, while Zev burst out laughing. His mom quickly shushed him. "OK, smart ass," Mrs. Becker said to her son. "Tell Obie why you don't go by your grandfather's name, Werner Becker?" "Werner?" Obie scrunched up his nose with curiosity, not knowing that was his friend's real first name. Reddening, the younger boy swallowed and said quietly, "Kids in 3rd grade started calling me `Weiner.' Then it was `Little Weiner,' then Weiner Becky, and Becky's Weiner.'" Obie stifled his own laugh. "Cool. I like `Zev.'" Finishing dinner, the boy's trooped back to Zev's room. As the younger boy began stripping, he noticed Obie's hesitancy in pulling off his own clothes, and guessed his friend was a little shy about hitting the hot tub in his underpants. "Obie, I'm not gonna wear a bathing suit either," Zev said. "It's more fun in your underwears, anyway." Obie smiled, knowing the younger boy was trying to make him feel at ease. But he also really wanted to see Zev near naked, and found himself hardening at the idea, which made things worse. Pulling off his shirt, he was sure Zev was checking him out through the corner of his eye. At the same time, the younger boy dropped his sweat pants, and Obie sucked in his breath a little. Clad in only a skimpy pair of white Fruit-of-the-Looms, the smaller blonde boy looked angelic. Obie was also happy he wouldn't be teased about his tight briefs. They were low-cut,rose-colored and with fuchsia stripes. Occasionally, he caught shit in the locker room for his "Brooklyn Ball Crushers," as well as hair much longer than boys wore in Reno. But most kids in his middle school eventually caught on to the fact that he was gay, and they were a little intimidated by city tough-guy stereotypes. And since he was badass hockey player, never flinched when boy's feigned a punch, and could give shit back, he somehow rose in the psychotic middle school pecking order. Gazing at the skinny younger boy in his tighty-whities, Obie's eyes locked onto a very noticeable bulge rounding the front of the 6th grader's little boy briefs. Obie started to swell into the front of his own very snug underpants, and turned slightly toward the wall, trying to think of other things. Little did he know how closely Zev had been studying the older boy's smooth and sinewy body. Walking to the bathroom, Zev grabbed two towels. Wrapping one around his waist, he tossed the other to his friend, and in seconds they were in the back yard. Obie whistled at seeing the large pool, covered for the winter, with its attached hot tub. The desert temperature had dropped to the 40's, and, lit only in starlight, with a view of the snow-capped, night-silhouetted Sierras, the boys slowly stepped into the hot, bubbling water. "It's not really a `ranch' anymore," Zev said, pointing to the property line of piñon trees a quarter mile up the Sierra foothill. "It was huge in my granpa's day. Dad sold off most of it when he got out of art school. But we still have six horses and a burro." "That's still fucking cool, dude. You're a cowboy!" "If I were a real cowboy, I wouldn't let call me `dude,' dude." Chuckling, Zev explained the term's origins. Then, as the boys slowly simmered, their drowsy, pubescent conversation turned inevitably toward sex. Stories about kids in school turned to videos they'd seen. "My friend Phil showed me this video, and it was hilarious," Zev was saying. "A naked guy was on his hands and knees, with a farm girl sitting on a stool. And she was milking him like a cow into a bucket!" By then, both boys had grown rigid, their stewing young boy cocks barely restrained by their tight, stretchy underpants. They grew quiet, not sure of what to say next. "I could use a milking right now," Obie quietly offered, half-jokingly. "Me too," whispered Zev. "Is there a girl at school you'd, uh, want to milk you?" Obie was quiet for a moment, not sure if he was risking a friendship. But most of his friends knew he was gay anyway (especially Taylor, a boy he'd been blowing since October). "Uhm, I don't, uh like girls." Until then, Zev didn't realize he'd been holding his breath, and he exhaled with relief. "Me neither." The boys gazed deeply into each other's eyes, glistening in starlight. Zev felt a foot traveling up the inside of his bare thigh. In moments, Obie's toes reached his cotton-strangled hardness, tickling him until he giggled. In turn, Zev's foot pressed into the older boy's crotch, slowly and rhythmically pedaling against his throbbing, rigid member. There was no more need to awkwardly conceal their desire, and they turned their teasing into a game, taking turns pressing into each other's tumescent boyhoods. "Wanna feel something amazing, Obie?" The 13-year-old smiled and nodded, and the 6th grader got up and pulled his friend to his feet. Obie hadn't gotten his first real growth spurt yet, and was only a few inches taller than Zev, and so both boys' white waistbands barely cleared the bubbling water. Sliding his arm around Obie's wet, rubbery waist, Zev turned his friend toward one of the air jets, and gently pushed him to kneel in front of it. As the billowing bubbles burrowed into his groin, Obie shuddered. It was an impossibly warm and soft explosive massage against his aching, needful boy pole. It was so good, he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Obie felt his friend's smaller arms slide around his slippery flesh from behind, and Zev's torso and thighs against his back and legs. A steely shaft pressed along the crease of his firm behind. Zev's rod felt much bigger than he'd expected. Both boys moaned as Zev began to rhythmically grind his rigid little boyhood between his friend's friend's solid buns, through two sets of underpants. Obie anchored himself to the stone pool deck with both hands, slightly arching his slender back to push his bottom into Zev's groin. Zev's tick-tock grinding grew to a harder thrusting, with every pump into Obie's bottom pushing the older boy's groin in time into the bubbling jets. Zev's fingers reached down to encircle Obie's nuts through their cotton wrapper, rhythmically squeezing with every thrust of his hips. Then, his other fingers firmly wrapped around the older boy's thick prong to stroke Obie through his undies with whole hand, The cotton-swaddled cock thrilled Zev. It was almost like a souvenir bat wrapped in silk, stretching diagonally upward, almost reaching Obie's tight waistband. The boys were panting high pitched little moans with each undulation, and the water between Obie's torso and Zev's back shot out in regular sprays all the way to the deck. Both boys were streaming sweat into the boiling tub of boy broth. "I'm gonna cum soon," Obie warned the younger boy. "Do. You. Shoot yet?" Zev heaved. "Oh...yeah. Gonna shoot hard, too!" Obie almost laughed, but his balls were desperate to be drained, and who could laugh at a time like this? "Mmmm...." Zev whispered into his friend's ear, through long drapes of wet hair. "Let's keep it in your undies." There's nothing better than surrendering yourself to the loving hands of another boy, and Obie started getting dizzy from the hot tub heat. He humped into his friend's fingers and the hot jets beating against his helpless boyhood until he felt his nuts contracting with Zev's gentle fondling. Obie groaned, his abs flexed into little hills of steel and his hands tried to crush the stone deck in vain. His cock billowed with flare after hot flare, and sparks flew cross his clenched eyes. 5 or 6 times his boy cannon pounded into his underpants. Flinging an arm onto the deck for balance, Obie panted, slowly regaining his breath. Zev was moaning louder and pumping faster, and Obie reached back with his free hand, squeezing the younger boy's firm, round bottom, pulling him hard into his own backside. Zev's arms were now wrapped around Obie's belly, as he plowed more violently. Suddenly, he gasped and plunged hard into Obie's buns. Quivering and grunting, Zev pressed the side of his face against his friend's shoulders, and his boyhood quaked thunderously against wet, cotton-wrapped flesh. Again, and again, his 11-year-old dick pulsed violently. Eventually, Zev shuddered and collapsed. "Dude?" Obie asked. His vocabulary was as spent as his nuts. "Duuuuuude!" Zev agreed, nodding, dragging the side of his face against his friend's slippery back. Without thinking, he kissed Obie's shoulder blades. Releasing his friend, Zev flopped onto the ledge, and Obie turned around to sit and squeeze his body against his friend's. Then, tracing his fingers along the younger boy's jaw, Obie leaned over to give Zev a tender kiss on the lips. At first, the 11-year-old jerked, then relaxed and let it happen. Pulling back a few inches, Obie smiled. "Never kissed a boy?" "Never kissed anyone," Zev admitted sheepishly. "First time for everything," Obie whispered. And over many minutes, the older boy taught his younger friend face-to-face pleasure. "Dude," Obie whispered. "I'm gonna need another milking." "Oh shit!" Zev said. "We have to get out." Quickly, he jumped out of the tub, and shut off the tubs jets. As Obie grabbed a towel, Zev carefully inspected the stilling waters, then shut off the light. "What's the emergency?" Obie asked in wonder. Zev reached across and dragged a finger up the swollen length of the older boy's tent-pole, smiling in admiration at the clearly defined outline of Obie's circumcised head. "That's the emergency," Zev said, pulling out Obie's waistband. At last, he could gaze at his friend's exposed erection, and grinned at the thick six-inches, dusted at the base with but a few scraggly hairs. All of Obie's junk was coated in a soup of milky goo. "My dad has two rules," Zev explained, reaching in to trace his index finger along the 8th-grader's pulsating snake, making Obie shiver more in the frigid air. "One: no peeing in the pool. Two: no sperming in the hot tub." Obie scrunched his nose in awe. "Whaaat?" "There are a lot of reasons, and it was part of `the Sex Talk,'" Zev chuckled. While Obie wrapped his towel around his waist, Zev toweled off, and the older boy got to admire the fresh erection surging against the 11-year-old's sopping underpants. With both their towels secured, the boys covered the hot tub, and trotted back inside. The desert air had gotten frigid, and they both had goose bumps when they closed the door behind them. As Obie headed toward the bathroom to shower off, Zev's mom called the younger boy to come to the kitchen. After rinsing himself and his undies, squeezing his briefs and hanging them to dry, Obie toweled himself off. His cock had deflated to its normal 3 inches, hanging against a plumb-shaped, hairless bag. Just then the door creaked open. "Obie, can I come in?" "Of course, Zev!" Zev quickly slid through the door, shutting it behind. "Mom came out and caught us," Zev said, his cheeks burning red. Obie's jaw dropped. His family knew he was gay, but no one had ever walked in on him with another boy. His acute humiliation quickly drowned in worry. He didn't really know the Beckers. "Are we in trouble?" Obie quietly asked. "Worse," Zev said, rolling his eyes. "I got the Safe Sex Talk. If you haven't had it, just pretend you have. It's so embarrassing." "No worries, amigo" Obie giggled. Living in Brooklyn, it's like he'd had it since kindergarten. Zev pulled off his damp briefs, and Obie's eyes were glued to the cute boy's loins. As the striped elastic waistband, plunged down like a curtain, Obie smiled at the vision of hairless youth. Zev's flaccid, 2 inch boyhood dangled below a walnut-sized scrotum. His own dick lurched at the sight, and wanted nothing more than to jump back in the shower with Zev. As if reading Obie's mind, the 11-year-old smiled and said, "We better get dressed real quick. Don't want to give her any more ammo." Back in Zev's room, Obie pulled on a pair of fresh, snug, pale blue briefs, sweatpants, t-shirt and socks. His friend quickly joined him, and Obie stared unabashedly as the skinny, nude little boy pulled on a fresh pair of bleached white underpants, knee-length socks, and a frayed man's shirt that hung to his knees. "My dad's old shirts make great pajamas," Zev explained, leading the older boy down the hall. "Looks comfy," Obie replied. "I don't own any pajamas. They're too hot." Mrs. Becker had warm slices of pie waiting for them in the family room, where she had the boys join her while she watched a documentary. The home-made apple pie was good, and the boys finished it in seconds. "Living up to your name, Zev," Mrs. Becker chuckled. When Obie scrunched his nose in curiosity, Zev explained. "My middle name is really Zebulon. I wanted people to call me Zeb in third grade, when I was getting teased. But I was also getting into so many fights my step-grandmother started calling me `Zev.' She's from Lithuania, and it's Yiddish for `wolf.'" Obie smiled. The kid was definitely fearless like a wolf. Both boys tried to pay attention to the film about the painter Chuck Close, but exhaustion overcame them both, and they were soon being shaken awake by Mrs. Becker. "Time for bed, boys," she said, pulling them to their feet. As they walked to the hallway, she added, "Don't forget our chat, Zevy." The 6th grader's shoulders slumped in embarrassment, and he huffed, "Yes, Mom." After brushing their teeth the boys stumbled back into Zev's room and shut off the lights. "You don't have to wear those sweatpants, if you don't want," Zev whispered, hopefully. "Great," Obie replied. Before he could untie them, Zev reached over, undid the drawstring, and let them drop down Obie's sinewy legs to his ankles. Then, he stepped over and wrapped his arms around his friend, looking up into the slightly taller boy's eyes. "Can we kiss some more?" "Oh hells yes!" Obie said, sliding his fingers through Zev's blond hair. Their lips met and opened, and soon their tongues delicately met to dance. While they kissed, the boys squeezed, and Zev was feeling something new. It wasn't just lust. It was something deeper. Something he couldn't figure out. "Let's get in bed, Obie." Obie snuggled under the thick duvet with his golden angel. Face to face, they kissed some more, and Obie traced his fingers up and down Zev's slender hip. Hard as diamond, he was fighting a wave of sleep. Fortunately, Zev pulled away to kiss his nose. "Dude, I'm so tired. Can we just go to sleep?" "Are you a mind reader?" Obie whispered back. In the faint light, he could see Zev smile, his eyes closing. The young boy rolled away from him, then scooted back against Obie, pressing his smaller bottom into the 8th-grader's lap. Then he grabbed Obie's hand, and pressed it between his slender thighs, to cup his cotton-clad erection. Obie spooned around Zev, pressing his own rigid length between 6th-grader's buns. "This is lit," Zev muttered. "Mmmhmmm," Obie sighed, and soon both boys were fast asleep. =============================================================== To be continued...