Date: Wed, 18 Feb 2004 02:25:24 +1100 From: Janosz Poha Subject: More young lovers Walking out of the changing rooms that day I had to stop and look out over the oval. Kim was down there, playing soccer for PE class, and I couldn't help watching him. On the field he was lithe and quick, elusive and happier to be there than anyone else. His uniform was tight over his body, which was unmarked and perfect, lightly tanned the color of honey. His long brown hair blew behind him as he streaked over the grass and lined up a goal with a graceful flick of his foot. There were cheers and Kim ran past a line of boys, slapping hands in the air. My thoughts inadvertently turned to sex. I wanted to taste his taut young body, which looked delectable. I wanted to kiss him and hold him to me and protect him from the world. I was fourteen myself, but felt as though I belonged to another world. I wanted to be part of his. As the boys climbed the stairs leading out of the field, Kim intercepted me. "Hey Dave! Did you see that goal?" "Yeah man, that was great." He disappeared, smiling, into the changing rooms I had just exited. Before I left I hazarded a glance in the doorway, ostensibly looking for something I left behind, and saw several naked boys, toweling themselves off and playing with the kind of natural carelessness they would probably soon lose. A pleasant sight, although none were as perfect as Kim. His symmetrical features glistened with sweat and he poured water from a bottle over his head, shaking his wet hair back and forth. This seemed to happen in slow motion; my heart ached. I left this image, so perfect and ethereal, and decided to leave school early. On the bus home I noted several old people, sitting like statues with pleased, vacant looks on their faces, and wondered if they had ever experienced love as I was. When I arrived home I undressed slowly in front of the large mirror in my parents bedroom, slipping my shirt over my head and letting my baggy jeans fall to the floor. Folding my hands behind my head like a portrait nude I examined myself closely. My body was bronzed from head to toe, evidence of all the time I spent on the beach with my family. My chest, arms and legs were hairless. I had a little bit of a tummy. Looking at myself like that always gave me an erection. My satin boxers tented upwards along my stomach. I pulled them off in a single extravagant gesture. There was fine hair on my scrotum and above the base of my penis. I ran my hand along my reddening penis and looked into the mirror with an expression of mock pride. I decided to find Kim at school the next day. "Hey, Kim-bo!" I called to him. "Come play soccer with me." He happily agreed. The experience taught me that although I may hate sport, it can be enjoyable if played hard with the most beautiful person you have ever encountered. I launched into the game with more enthusiasm than I ever thought possible, playing with controlled aggression. Kim responded gleefully, loving the challenge. I was older, after all, stronger and a little taller. Eventually I peeled my shirt off my head, with a wild expression as though I was readying myself for battle. My head swelled with the savagery of it all, it felt like a mating ritual. I was delighted when Kim copied me and shed his shirt also; his torso glistened with perspiration and nearly drove me crazy. The speed of the game was again switched up a notch -- I felt cold in the belly and my legs cramped slightly, but I didn't respond to this. After kicking a couple more goals than I had, Kim stopped, panting, with his hands on his legs, and smiled up at me. "I think that's enough now," he said, between breaths, "but I won, though." "Well, I don't think so!" I said, with mock outrage, and came bounding toward him. Laughing, he turned and ran away. I raced as hard as I could, eventually catching up, and reached out to grab him, feeling his body for the first time. It was as though I could touch heaven. Wet with perspiration, he slipped out of my grasp, and I allowed myself to stop. He turned around and looked at me. "Too slow, man," he said. "Nah, just too lazy," I said. Smiling, he approached me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Now I've got you," I said, and reached my hands around him, lifting him up by the waste. He smelt sweet and tasty. I gently lay him on the ground and sat with my knees on either side of his chest. I was surprised to see that the expression on his face was one of complacency; he' d given in, as though happy to be in that position, lying under me. Now, I feigned superiority, and looked down at him severely. "Boy," I said, "do you like being underneath me like this?" He smiled and said, simply, "Yep!" "Then listen to something," I said. "I love you." I rolled off him and let him stand up. Now, it was his turn to feel superior -- although, I thought, he should always feel that way. "You love me?" he asked. Saying such things to a boy of Kim's age can initiate some interesting facial expressions. The one on Kim's face was half embarrassment, half elation. This was before homosexuality had become associated with some of the evils in our society, and before it was often spoken about. I think, as difficult as that moment was between the two of us, if I was a fourteen year old today I would not be able to initiate it. "I love you," I repeated, standing level to him. I made sure he could see I was serious. "Wow," he said. "Why?" "Because," I said, "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He beamed. "Beautiful? Well, you're not so bad either, I guess..." He was looking at the ground. "Hey," I said, "let's go inside." I didn't want to say, "let's hit the showers", because it seemed too much of a natural progression from saying Kim was beautiful, but that's what we were going to do. We couldn't go back to class as we were, covered in sweat and dirt. As we picked up our shirts and left the oval, Kim was quiet and distant. I worried that I may have shocked him with my bluntness, so unusual in conversation at our ages. But when we arrived in the changing room, he pulled his shorts off, and turned to face me. He was wearing a pair of tight gray briefs, common back then. They contrasted well with his tasty, light brown skin, and slightly darker hair. "You really think I'm beautiful?" he asked me, seriously. "Yes," I said, taking in his near nakedness. He turned around and slipped the briefs off, hanging them on a hook, and walked to the shower room. His ass was like a pair of peaches -- tiny, looking firm but tender. I quickly disrobed to join him, trying unsuccessfully to bat down my solid erection. He was at the far corner of the shower room, facing away from me a little. I tried to quickly use the nearest shower, so that a cold spray would cure my problem, but Kim called to me. "Don't you want to shower with me?" he asked, actually sounding sad and neglected. I walked over to him and joined him under the spray. He was, I saw, completely hairless. His small genitals were overwhelmingly delicate looking, much like the rest of his form. The penis just barely hung lower than the tight sack beneath it. It seemed strange, I thought, that he behaved with such a lack of shame in being naked before me, but then I remembered he was still a child, perhaps a year off adolesence. "Whoa," he said. "Yours is standing up straight." I smiled and rubbed some soap over his chest. "Let me wash you," I said. He was obedient and turned around so I could wash his back. His skin was incredibly soft and supple -- in that stage right before the direct progression to manhood, where the body is ripening. I bent over and smelt him; the smell was almost like fruit. Cautiously, I ran my thumb along the smooth cheek of his backside, careful to see how he would react. He did nothing, so I continued to feel it, soaping there and the back of his legs. "Oh," he said, "feels so good... that..." I continued with both hands, moving downwards, and then I stood taller and placed my hands on his shoulders, rubbing gently. He turned around and faced me, and abruptly kissed me on the mouth, almost like an attack. I wasn't ready for it, and almost pulled away. He looked slightly shocked. I bent forward and closed his mouth over mine. His lips were soft and moist, like pillows, and his hot little tongue touched mine and felt electric. Suddenly, I had to pull away, groaning, and hid myself from him. I was wracked with shudders and everything felt great. "What happened?" Kim asked, surprised. We had a lot to learn, but I thought we would manage. Leaving school after we parted company, I skipped and danced down the street, bounding for joy, happier than I'd ever been, and excited for the following day, when I'd see Kim again. If you enjoyed it, try "The Wild Boy" in the Gay Male/Historical section.