Date: Sun, 01 Apr 2001 13:29:36 -0400 From: Chad M. Subject: Justin's Boyhood, chapter 4 JUSTIN'S BOYHOOD by Chad Author's Note: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts between minors. If you don't like this, don't read it. The characters and events are purely from the imagination of the author, and in no way represent any actual persons or events. Any similarity is purely coincidental. ++++++ Chapter Four THE SLEEPOVER By six o'clock, both of my parents had come home from work. Dad was parked in front of the TV watching the news, and Mom was busy in the kitchen. I was in my room, pacing the floors in anticipation of Bryan's arrival. At exactly 6:25, the doorbell rang. As I headed down the stairs, I could hear Bryan's mom exchanging "hello," "how are you," and "I hope this is no trouble" with my mom. Bryan stood by the door, carrying a rolled-up sleeping bag, an overnight bag, and several Playstation games which he had tucked under one arm. "Why don't you help Bryan put his things in your room?" Mom asked. So I relieved him of some of his burden and led him up to my room, and our mothers continued chattering about school and other trivial matters. Bryan and I looked through his small collection of Playstation games, deciding what we might play first. Before we got a chance to begin playing, we were summoned back downstairs so Bryan could give his mom a kiss. He looked embarrassed but I didn't tease him. In fact, I thought it was kind of sweet. I told Mrs. Skinner goodbye after Bryan and I promised to be good and not fight or get in my mom's way. Geez, moms! Our obligations fulfilled, Bryan and I returned to my room. Our next few hours were filled with video games, television and general talk about non-important things, accentuated by the occasional wrestling move. The only interuptions to the our proceedings were a few pee breaks and to eat the pizza my folks ordered. It was a Friday night, after all, and Mom seldom cooked on Fridays. Around 11:30 when the late news was over, Dad stuck his head in the door and told us they were going to bed, and to keep the noise down. "OK, good night, Dad." "Night, Mr. O'Neal," said Bryan. And as my Dad closed the door he whispered to me, "Cool...we're the only ones still up!" "You don't have to whisper," I said. "Their bedroom is downstairs so unless we set off a bomb up here, they can't hear us!" "Cool!" he smiled, and turned back to the game. He had unrolled his sleeping bag on the floor, and we were sitting on it, leaning against my bed for support. Suddenly he paused and yawned. "Getting sleepy, Bryan?" I asked. "Nope, not yet!" "Well, let's get ready for bed now, so when we do get tired we won't have to worry about it then." "OK." He fished his toothbrush out of his overnight bag and followed me into the bathroom. When his mouth was sufficiently foamy, he growled at me like a rabid dog, causing us both to convulse in laughter! We went back into my room, and I untied my sneakers and kicked them into the corner. I pulled off my socks, and threw them by my shoes. I started to slip my t-shirt off, but when I got it over my head, I froze. Bryan was staring at me. I stood there, the neckband around my forehead, my arms sticking up. "What?" I asked. "You've got hair under your arms!" "Yeah, so?" "My brother asked me if you had any hair yet," Bryan admitted. I paused for a second. "Which brother?" "Kevin." I pondered this for a moment, and continued removing my shirt. Bryan looked in his overnight bag and found his pajamas. I was taking off my jeans when he asked, "What do you wear to bed?" "Just my boxers, usually," I answered. "Me, too," he said, and put his pajamas back into the bag. He immediately began removing his clothes. First his shirt, then he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down. "Aw, shoot!" Bryan said when he noticed he couldn't get his pants around his shoes. He sat back down on the floor, pants around his ankles, and untied his Nikes. It was funny to watch him struggle. At last, he freed himself of his clothing and stood giggling in his bright white jockeys. "I hate this underwear," he said. "My mom won't buy me boxers cause she says I'm not old enough." "Want to borrow a pair of mine to sleep in?" I offered. "Yeah!" I looked in my dresser drawer and found an old pair of white and blue stripes that were a little too snug for me. I turned back around, and what I saw kind of startled me. Bryan had both hands in his underwear, casually scratching and stretching himself. I don't think he was really playing with it, but just letting himself become accustomed to a less restrictive environment. "Thanks!" he said as I offered him the boxers. He removed his hands from his underwear and excitedly took the shorts. What he did next sent me into spasms of laughter. Bryan turned around, stuck out his butt, and wiggled it back and forth. Then he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, and started slowly peeling them down. I don't know where he had seen it, but he was doing a great impression of a male stripper! He turned around facing me, and began gyrating his hips like a bad Elvis impersonator. He lowered one side of his underwear, then the other, then back up again. Turning his backside to me again, he finally slipped the white garment off completely, and twirled it around on his index finger. I wiped tears of laughter from my eyes, and Bryan said "Watch this!" His back still toward me, he held his underwear in front of him a moment. I couldn't tell what he was doing. Suddenly, he turned around. He had hung his underwear on his penis, which obviously must have been hard. "Look, no hands!" he declared. I laughed so hard, I almost fell off the bed. Before I could recover, I had a face full of Fruit of the Looms. He had thrown his underwear at me! As I pulled them away from my eyes, I caught a quick glimpse of his little dick. It was about 3 inches long, pinker than his sun-deprived hips, completely hairless, and absolutely hard. It pointed straight up, almost flat with his belly. His balls looked rather small, and drawn up close to his body. I felt a stirring in my own crotch as he pulled the boxer shorts up around his waist. Suddenly I felt like I needed to jack off. "You ready to go to sleep?" I asked him. "Yeah, I guess." I tossed him a pillow, and he lay down on his sleeping bag on the floor beside my bed. I reached over and turned out the light. "Good night," I said. I pulled the covers up to my neck, and reached down to give myself a gentle squeeze. By this time I was very hard myself. There was some rustling of material from beside my bed, then silence. In the faint moonlight that poured in through my window, I could barely make out the shadowy figure that loomed at the foot of my bed, like a tiger ready to pounce. And pounce is exactly what the little tiger did. Bryan leaped onto the bed, landing on top of me. His knee missed my balls by mere inches. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed. "Shhh! Don't wake anybody up!" I admonished. He sat on my legs, just above my knees, one of his legs on each side. "Oh sorry," he whispered. "Turn on the light." I reached over and turned the light back on. Quickly, he grabbed my arms and pinned them in back of my head. "I really gotcha now!" he said softly. I offered only token resistance, and submitted myself as his prey. He looked me over. Now that he had me, what was he going to do with me, I wondered. Then his gaze shifted from one exposed armpit to the other. "When did the hair grow in your underarm pits?" he asked innocently. "This past summer is when I first noticed it," I said. "Cool." he said. He released my arms, and moved his left index finger to my right armpit. He toyed with the half-dozen or so hairs I had growing there, then sniffed his finger, making a face. "What did you expect? The scent of roses?" I asked. He shifted his attention to my left pit, and fingered the moist area lightly. This was really ticklish to me, and it made me giggle and shift a bit. Then he began tracing around my sideburns, my chin, and above my lip. "Any whiskers yet?" he asked. "Nope." Then his fingers were on my chest. With his index finger and thumb, he tried to grab some hair, but each follicle only yielded a couple of millimeters of silvery down. He circled his fingertips around my nipples once or twice, which made my penis twitch. If Bryan noticed, he didn't let on. "No chest hair, either," he said as he continued his inspection. His fingers went to my belly-button, and went in circles around my innie. This really tickled, and I had to fight back the urge to move his hands. It tickled, yet it felt so good. "My brother has some hair under his belly button. It leads down to his bush, you know, around his thingy!" Bryan giggled. My usual question: "Which brother?" "Kevin." Bryan's fingers reached the waistband of my boxers, and he paused. He looked at, straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, but he seemed to be asking permission to look farther. This seemed like such forbidden territory we were entering, but the sheer excitement of the moment overshadowed any fears. I gave him a slight smile, which signalled my acquiescence. I said nothing, but sat up to see what he was doing. My penis was pitching quite a tent in my shorts, and I could see just a bit of flesh through the fly. Bryan gingerly inserted his right hand inside, just far enough to reach my pubes. "Cool, you got pubes!" he whispered. He moved his hand from one side to the other, and the back of his hand touched my penis, which jumped on contact. He tickled around in my "bush" for a moment, then pulled his hand out. "I gotta see this," he said. He pulled my boxers down just far enough to uncover my pubic hair, his eyes transfixed on it. Then he pulled it down just a bit farther, so he could see all of my dick and balls. But it was my pubic hair held his fascination. He held the elastic with his left hand, and with his right, he very gently moved my dick from side to side to check out every strand of hair growing there. The feelings going through me were incredible--something I had never experienced. My cheeks burned, my mouth was dry, and my breaths were coming quickly. My penis felt like it was wired with 10,000 volts of electricity. "Justin, your thing is all hard. Do you have a boner?" Bryan had a great grasp of the obvious...and an ever greater grasp on something else! "Me too!" he boasted. "Look!" He let go of me, causing the elastic waistband to hit my skin with a snap. He pulled down the front his boxers to show his little dick, still standing proud. "Cool!" I said. "What makes them get all bony like that?" Bryan asked. "I dunno. I guess it's when your with someone you like," I offered. Bryan pondered a moment, then leaned forward. His bare chest covered mine, and he placed his lips near my ear, where he whispered: "You're my best friend, Justin." I couldn't help it. I folded my arms around his back, and gave him a hug. "And you're my best friend!" I whispered back. We stayed in that position for a moment, and then Bryan stretched out his legs over mine, so that he was completely lying on top of me. Again, I was filled with emotion. Only this time, it wasn't the forbidden situation that consumed me. It was...love. Yes, it was love I felt for this boy. I hugged him even harder, and moved my palms over the soft skin of his back. Bryan responded by flexing his penis, which I felt against my stomach. Involuntarily, mine flexed back. It was more than I could bear. "I gotta go to the bathroom," I said. He didn't say anything, but rolled off of me. I followed my aching boner into the bathroom, where I closed and locked the door. In less than 10 strokes, I shot my wad into the toilet. I milked out the last few drops, and cleaned away any residue with some toilet paper. I put everything back in place and went back to my bedroom. Bryan was asleep in the middle of the bed. I turned off the light and squeezed in beside him. The sleeping bag would get no use that night. TO BE CONTINUED +++++++ Justin's adventures are far from over. Just like it real life, some things take time to unfold to their natural conclusion. Stay tuned. If you would like to send a comment or suggestion, please drop me a line at chadtales@hotmail.com.