Date: Thu, 26 Sep 2002 22:21:28 -0500 From: The Jongolier Subject: The Mountain Cabin Part 2 DISCLAIMER: This story contains consensual sex between two male minors. If this sort of thing offends you or you are underage, do not read this. This story is the property of The Jongolier, any reprinting or other use is only by permission. This is a work of fiction. If it offends you, don't read it! Certainly don't send me email about WHY it offends you. It doesn't offend me and it doesn't offend the many many readers who write to me to tell me they love it. I got the best response from this story, by far the best of any of my stories. I hope you enjoy the second part of this one. By the way, I know I've been bad about finishing my stories, but you can rest assured this story is completely done. I'm just doling it out in little bits to drive you nuts. :-) If you like my story, email me at jongolier@myself.com. If you don't like it, email me anyway. Enjoy. THINGS CHANGE I don't even remember falling asleep, but when I woke I was cold yet again and longing for his warm little body. I cracked my eyes open a little and didn't see him in the bed next to me. When I raised my head it became apparent that he wasn't in the room at all. I sighed longingly and got out of bed to take a shower, looking at the clock on the dresser and noticing that it was nearly nine o'clock in the morning. While I took the time to pee and brush my teeth I kept hoping Matt would come walking in with that brilliant smile he so often wore but he was nowhere to be found. I got dressed in loose board shorts and a big t-shirt. When I walked out into the living room I was greeted by the sounds of Saturday morning cartoons blasting from the television in the kids' room. I went inside and found Colin and Stephen sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, totally in a trance. I looked over at the bed where Matt usually slept to find him curled under the covers, fast asleep. He must have been really tired because the volume on the TV was so loud that I'm sure the neighbors three miles away could hear it. I unceremoniously turned the volume down, ignoring the whining protests of my younger cousins, and left to make breakfast. One of my many hobbies is cooking, something I enjoy greatly, so I often made breakfast for the whole family. I decided to make more than usual as I was sure that Matt needed it after the festivities the night before. While I whipped up the batter for some crepes, Matt snuck in and opened the refrigerator, looking for some juice as usual. "How ya' doin', buddy?" I asked. He grunted a response while drinking some orange juice directly from the carton. He replaced the carton in the fridge and walked out without saying a word. I felt hurt that he was ignoring me, but I shrugged it off and soon forgot about it to the details of cooking a first class breakfast. Within a half hour all of us were clustered around the table, munching loudly on sausages, crepes, and toast. A pot of steaming grits sat in the middle of the table as well as some watermelon I had just sliced. Matt was sitting as far from me as possible and not really responding to the rest of us. I began to panic that I had freaked him out the night before. My grandmother praised my cooking and stood up to go get ready for the day. She was going to take the boys to the ice-rink in town to do some skating. I was going to stay home and work on repairing the dock which ran from the patio out into the lake. My grandmother owned two boats, one a small row boat with a two-horsepower motor for fishing, and another larger boat with two outboard fifty-horsepower motors for skiing. Both were in good shape but the dock was beginning to lean to the right noticeably. The heavier boat was always moored on the left and its gentle pressing against the dock had begun to loosen the pilings. I was going to poor some new cement down the holes in the bottom of the lake and switch the sides that we moored the boats on. It wasn't fun but it gave me an excuse to do another one of my hobbies, SCUBA diving. As the boys ran off to change into their clothes, I grabbed Matt and asked him to help with the dishes. He groaned his disapproval but stayed to help. We cleaned up the considerable mess without saying anything, my heart breaking that he wouldn't talk. I finally decided that I must have really freaked him out. When it was time for all of them to go, Matt announced that he wasn't going. He was too tired, by his own admission. My grandmother shrugged it off and took the two bouncing ten year olds out to the car. I watched as Matt sulkily plodded into the kids' room, my heart still breaking. I wanted to go talk to him, but I knew that he needed to work things out by himself first so I let him go and started to get my SCUBA gear out of the closet. A half hour later I was mixing the Portland cement for the pilings in a trough I had dragged out onto the dock. After mixing it into a cake-frosting-like mixture I shoveled some into an oversized pastry funnel made out of waterproof canvas. I strapped on my BCD and my tank and jumped lightly into the water behind the row boat. I had already lashed the dock upright with ropes tied to the corner of the patio and now all I needed was to squeeze the cement into the bases of the pilings. I dove down with the concrete, being careful not to squeeze it prematurely, and began the long task in the cold water. When I had finished with half the pilings, having refilled my funnel three times already, I surfaced to find two little white feet hanging inches from the water in front of my face. Without thinking I tickled the bottom of them and swam around to the ladder, reveling in the tittering giggle Matt let loose. Well, if he can laugh at least he's not that bad off, I thought to myself as I climbed the ladder. I was happy to see a smile once again brightening up his face. "Here," he said sheepishly, "I'll help." He reached up and helped me get my tank off and held my BCD so I could climb out of it. I had elected not to wear a wetsuit, this being the middle of summer, and there were red welts where the weight of the vest had rubbed against my shoulders. I sat down heavily on the dock and dangled my feet off the edge, catching my breath. Matt sat down next to me, his hip resting lightly against mine, and rested his little head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. I instantly forgave him. "That's okay, kiddo. Did I freak you out?" I asked in reply. "A little. But it felt so good!" he replied sheepishly. "I'm sorry I freaked you out," I said. We sat for some time and listened to the sounds of the wind flowing through the trees and the water lapping gently against the underside of the boats. We didn't need to talk about it; we just sat there enjoying the time together. After a bit he asked, "Did you mean what you said last night?" "What part, Matt?" I asked. "The part about me being beautiful. No one has ever said that to me before." My heart soared. "Of course I meant it. You are beautiful, so beautiful I couldn't help but kiss you last night. I don't say things I don't mean to people I love, Matt." "I love you too," he said. Every time he said those words I could feel little excited signals from my heart spread slowly through my whole body, making their deliberate way all the way to the tips of my fingers. Before I could respond he titled his head up at me and kissed me on the cheek. "We'll take it slow, okay?" I said after a moment. "We'll go at whatever speed you want. How's that?" "Okay," he replied. "Can I help you finish?" he asked, deftly changing the subject. I smiled at him and tousled his hair, something I knew he secretly loved. "Of course. Go get your gear." He jumped up excitedly and came back a few minutes later with his own BCD, tank, and octopus valve. His gear had been mine when I was his age. My father had taught me how to dive just before he died and I had taught Matt and his brothers when they each turned ten. In fact, Colin and Stephen were just getting good enough for me to feel comfortable taking them out past the dock and into the deeper parts of the lake. The lake itself was private, owned by ten or so families, so there wasn't a whole lot of boat traffic, lending the water a clarity that most lakes only dream of. If you get out towards the middle, where depths exceed 200 feet, the water is a crystal blue and you can see forever. I watched Matt get himself into his gear while I went through the long process of refilling my tank at the little station my father had built on the bank right next to the dock. After watching him struggle to get into his wetsuit, Matt was always more sensitive to the cold, I decided that it was maybe time to give him my suit from when I was thirteen. It would be loose on him but it would fit better soon. He eventually got geared up and I joined him on the edge of the dock, slinging my tank back into place. I double checked his setup, making sure he had the valve on the right way and that he had enough weight strapped on, before jumping in. He waited until I surfaced out away from the dock before he jumped in. We gave each other the okay sign and headed down the fifteen feet to the bottom of the next piling. With two people the job went much faster and we were soon finished. When I checked his air supply and mine I found that we had about another half hour left so I motioned for him to follow me. He nodded and we headed deeper into the lake. I reached into a pocket and pulled out a floating flag, letting it rise gently to the surface. It was tethered to me by a thin rope and I hoped that any passing boats would see it and veer away. Any new homeowners on the lake were advised that we often dove in the lake and that they knew to veer away from any diving flags floating on the surface. In the six years I had been diving the lake I had only had one boat go overhead, and that one simply didn't see the flag. I usually used a bigger, more visible flag but I hadn't planned on diving this far out so hadn't brought it. I didn't foresee a problem, though. We swam on for a few minutes until we came to the shadowy shape of a sunken boat on the bottom. The boat was ours, it had broken from it's mooring during a thunderstorm and had actually been hit by lightning. What parts didn't burn sank quickly to the bottom and we had been diving around it for years. Matt had been here before but he always liked it. I watched him swim ahead, his powerful boy body propelling him easily through the water, and head around the sunken hulk. We played tag for a few minutes around it before I motioned that we needed head back. Matt swam up next to me and we headed out. About half of the way back he reached out and grabbed my hand. We swam all the way back like that, just enjoying each other's presence in the deep blue of the lake. When we surfaced at the dock we removed our masks and smiled at each other. "That was fun," Matt said excitedly. "Thanks." "You're welc. . ." I said before Matt planted a big smack of a kiss on my lips, neatly stopping me mid-sentence. "Oops, sorry," he said mischievously before practically flying up the ladder, trying to get away from my reaching arms. I envied his energy and climbed up behind him, quite a bit slower. We helped each other get our equipment off, setting it out on the dock to dry. I peeled my suit off, Matt watching me hungrily, and helped him get his wetsuit off. It was definitely getting too small. When his own swim trunks were off and lying on the dock next to mine, I grabbed him around the waist, lifting him off the dock, and threw him neatly back in the water. He howled in surprise and climbed back up the ladder. Before I could grab him again he reached around me and gave me a cold, wet hug. "Aiya!" I exclaimed. "That's cold!" "Tell me about it!" he replied, laughing. I kissed him lightly on the top of the head before we began to pick up our swimsuits and his wetsuit. On our way into the house we hung them on a clothesline along the side of the house. We spent a long moment at the line just admiring each other's naked body in the bright sunlight. My love for Matt had changed my view of his tight little body so much; he was so attractive I ached to touch him. True to my word, however, I simply grabbed his hand and led him over to the lounge chairs for some sunbathing. We sat next to each other in silence; his warm little hand enclosed in mine, and just enjoyed the warm sun on our bodies. We chatted softly about nothing in particular for a while before heading inside. Without a word, Matt pulled me back to the shower. He started the water, still silent, and motioned for me to follow him in. The shower in my room was a built-in model with no bathtub like most showers have nowadays. It was large enough for three of us so we had plenty of room. I didn't want to spoil the moment by talking so I stayed silent, watching the object of my affection lather up the loofah just as the night before. Still not talking, he motioned for me to stand in front of him. Because his back was to the water I wasn't getting any wetter but I think that was his plan. He turned me around away from him and began to lightly scrub my back. It felt wonderful to have that light pressure and the slight scratchiness wash the lake slime from my skin. He pressed hard into my shoulders and ran lightly down my arms. I felt his hand lift up my arm so I lifted it a bit higher. He slipped under my arm and down my side. After repeating on the other arm he began to rub the loofah along my buttocks very gently. As I visibly relaxed he pressed harder. The tension began to leave me as this little master of shower massage continued. He worked on the backs of my legs and down to my ankles. He pulled the shower head off the wall and used the warm spray to rinse me off before motioning for me to turn around. He looked up at with me with smiling eyes as he replaced the shower head onto the wall and began to soap up my front. He rubbed all along my chest, using his soft little thumbs to clean my hard nipples, and down along my belly. I wasn't in the greatest shape but I did try to take care of myself so he had a little bit of a six pack to explore. He felt the ridges around the little squares of muscle on my belly with his finger before beginning to soap up my upper thigh. He had skipped my crotch entirely, driving me to new levels of sexual frustration. And I loved it. He worked down my legs, along the tops of my feet, and back up. Then he dropped the loofah and used his bare hands to rub all around my penis and balls. He didn't touch them, but it sent electric signals to them nonetheless. Just before I collapsed from anticipation, I felt his warm little hand slide slowly down my penis. It instantly became hard, sticking out to its full six inches. Matt continued to scrub underneath it and gently (thankfully) along my balls while his eyes grew wide at the sight of my fully erect cock. He hadn't ever seen it like this and it amazed him. His eyes wider still and glued to my cock, he began to wash it with both hands. His velvet fingertips brushed the head and I sighed loudly in pleasure. I rocked my head back and closed my eyes to the liquid sensations he was giving me. Much too soon he stopped and I felt the warm water begin to rinse me off. He smiled sheepishly at me before standing on his tip toes to give me a long kiss. He broke the kiss and handed me the soapy loofah. I switched places with him and turned him away from me. I repeated his performance to the letter except for one thing. When I had soaped his whole backside up, I used my bare hand to lightly rub along the crease between his buttocks. When my fingertip found the little ridge of skin between his balls and his ass he shivered and moaned in pleasure. I slid my finger further back, brushing lightly along his anus. He sighed loudly as I circled around it, cleaning the little crinkle of muscle thoroughly. I stopped after a moment, and rinsed him off. I turned him around to find his little member at full mast. This was the first time I could see it clearly so I took a moment to take in the sight. It was definitely four inches long, a half-inch wide, and completely hairless. His translucent skin glowed under the harsh lights of the bathroom, revealing perfect skin with no blemishes or even any moles. I could see the slight sheen of baby down all along his groin and down along his tight little ball sack but there was no sign of the coarser hairs of puberty. I tore my eyes away from his groin and began to soap up his front. His chest, while still definitely the chest of a little boy, was hard underneath his skin, except for little sections of remaining baby fat. His skin retained the impossible smoothness of youth, more of those little soft hairs covering his chest and belly. I proceeded to clean his front, torturing him the same way he tortured me. When I finally grasped his little boy penis in one hand he moaned much like I had when he had done the same and his whole body relaxed. I cupped his tight little balls in one hand and cleaned all along the shaft in a twisting motion with the other. Through his body I could feel his buttocks rhythmically flexing as I played with the impossibly soft skin of his penis head. I took him right to the edge of cumming, but stopped short, before rinsing him off. I didn't want him to faint or have him suffer through the feelings of remorse he must have had when I jacked him off the last time. He whined his disappointment but gave in to it. We dried each other off when we got out and spent some time cuddling together with my big towel wrapped around us both. No words were necessary for what we were feeling. We were totally engulfed by shared feelings of intense love. I was blown away myself, having never felt this way about anyone. I knew that no matter what happened I would always love this little god that was warmly wrapped in my arms. We both jumped a little when we heard the front door slam, the sound breaking us out of our own little world and back into reality. We quickly got dressed and headed out to see how skating was. Colin and Stephen excitedly recounted their whole day, just like the little boys that they were – describing everything in terms of whom they met and who fell and who won the games – while my grandmother stepped out onto the porch to survey my work. "Looks good, Mike," she said with approval, "you going to take the steadying lines off tomorrow?" "Yep," I replied, "and you should thank Matt too, he helped a lot." She raised her eyebrows, asking "really?" and tousled Matt's hair in thanks. He beamed at the approval and trotted off with his brothers to go watch television. I could see the glow on his face from his new found emotions and I panicked, wondering if my grandmother would notice. She raised her eyebrows a bit and walked into the kitchen to start dinner. "You wanna' help, Mike?" she asked. "Sure," I said with trepidation. She rarely asked me to help cook, the two of us used to working in the kitchen alone. It usually meant she wanted to talk. My stomach was resting somewhere near my shoes as I slowly walked into the kitchen. "Why don't you make some bread for dinner? I'm going to cook up some spaghetti," she asked as she picked some of the best tomatoes out of the fridge. "Sure," I said again. My fear had reduced me to one word. I got out the eggs after my grandmother was finished with the fridge and moved to the other side of the counter where a marble kneading board was inlayed into the counter. While I made a little bowl out of two cups of flower and cracked an egg into it, my grandmother got started heatins some oil in a pan. "So, what's going on, Mike?" she asked nonchalantly. "What do you mean?" I asked. I'm sure she could hear the terror in my voice. "I'm not dumb, son," she replied. "I can see that Matt is happier than he's been since the divorce. He's practically bouncing off the walls. But this morning he looked as though his dog had died. I did notice that he was avoiding you all morning. And you have the same look on your face that your grandfather had when he proposed to me. You don't think I've noticed how you look at Matt these past two days?" I felt a cold sweat break out all over my body but continued mixing the doughy mixture I had made by adding water and salt. The yeast was activating in a bowl of warm water on the counter. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just shrugged and went on making the bread. "It's okay, Mike. I've known for some time that you were gay. You don't have to say it out loud if you can't yet. I could always tell when you'd bring those boys by for visits. They all looked a little too pretty to me and you always hung all over them. I just don't want you getting Matt into something he's not ready for." "It's not like that, grandma," I quickly stated. "I'm not doing anything he doesn't want me to." The words spilling out as I figured there was no point in trying to hide the new nature of our relationship. My grandmother was always too observant for my own good. "We'll see," she said threateningly. "How long for the bread?" she asked, getting back to the business at hand. I was glad to talk about anything but Matt. "It should only take two hours. I'm using a quick rise yeast and I thought I'd split it up into individual loaves to speed it up." "That's perfect. The sauce will just be done." My grandmother was famous for her long-simmer sauces. My mouth watered in anticipation even while my body trembled in fear for what would happen later. I was sure there was some discussion coming, I knew it. My grandmother left the room, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and I heard her call, "Matt? You got a second?" "Yeah," came his disappointed reply from the kids' room. He must have really been into that cartoon. He came out and my grandmother grabbed his hand and walked him out onto the patio. I could see them sitting there talking while I waited for the bread to rise. By watching Matt's face I could make out the exact moment that my grandmother dropped the bomb on him. His face dropped while his eyes grew wide. I couldn't bear to watch any longer so I turned around and began to preheat the oven. By the time I turned around Matt was alone on the park bench and my grandmother was standing once again in the kitchen. I stood in a state of suspended animation waiting for her to speak. Her brow was deeply furrowed as she considered the verdict, as it were. "You best be careful and not let his father even suspect anything," she finally said. I was so surprised I nearly cried out. "I love my son dearly but he's an idiot when it comes to things like this." And that was all she ever said on the subject. Whatever she had learned from Matt, she was satisfied that it was a real relationship and not some freaked out fling for me or some twisted molestation. She never spoke of it again, never giving approval or disapproval. In fact, the only time I ever found out how she really felt about it was some years later when she died and left the lake house to me along with enough money to keep it up and pay the taxes on it for life. In her will the line read: To my beloved grandsons Mike and Matt, I leave the lake house, all the property around it, the boats, the dock, and all the furnishings within. May you two enjoy it as long as you are together. By that time most of the family, minus Matt's dad who was an ignoramus anyway, knew the nature of our relationship so it wasn't much of a surprise. It was then that I knew my grandmother had really understood what we were just discovering; Matt and I were really in love. --- That night at dinner my grandmother declared that she needed to go back home to the valley for a few weeks. She offered to take the boys home with her, saving me the two hour drive down the mountain and the two hour drive back. Colin and Stephen were excited, ready to return to their computers and their Nintendo. Matt asked if he could stay, making up the reason on the spot that I had promised to teach him some new things for SCUBA diving. My grandmother, of course, saw right through the ploy but his brothers bought it. My grandmother agreed and everyone around the table was equally excited. After a really good dinner we got up and my grandmother offered to do all the dishes. We thanked her and headed off for the kids' room. They were leaving early in the morning so I helped the two youngest pack up their scattered belongings, minus a set of clothes for the next day and their pajamas. We watched a bad copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a Colin favorite, and soon the three boys were snoring lightly in their respective beds. Colin had fallen asleep with his head on my lap so it took some time to squirm out from under him. On my way out I kissed the sleeping Matt lightly before turning out the lights and heading for my own bed. I was a little lonely in the big queen sized bed by myself but there would be plenty of time to spend with Matt over the next week. His brothers were going home much sooner than originally planned but Matt didn't need to be home until the next Saturday for his first little league baseball practice of the season. I fell asleep fantasizing about all my time alone with Matt. I'm sure I smiled all night. By the time I woke up, the boys and my grandmother had already left. On the counter in the kitchen was $200 with a note that said, "Here's some cash for money. Have a good time and clean up any messes." She always told me to clean up, no matter that I always kept the house spotless. I walked into the kids' room to find Matt on top of his covers still asleep. He must have gotten hot in the night and kicked them off. I looked at his cute little butt held tightly in his briefs and sighed in contentment. Not wanting to wake him, I gave him a light peck on his back between his shoulder blades and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. Short of the banquet of the morning before, I simply took some of the remaining bread from the night before and made French toast. Matt walked in sleepily, still in only briefs, and sat down heavily in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. "Hi," he said sleepily. "Hey, kiddo," I said. "You sleep well?" "Yeah. I missed you, though." "I'm sorry. You can move into my bedroom tonight if you'd like." His eyes lit up and he said excitedly, "Yeah! I love you." "I love you too, Matt." At that he got up and came over next to me. He gave me a little hug with one arm and asked if he could help. I told him to flip the toast for me while I got out some juice and two glasses. He did a good job, browning the toast evenly on both sides before taking them out, and I thought I might have fun teaching him to cook a little later. While we ate breakfast he asked, "Is grandma mad?" "I don't think so buddy. What did you tell her?" I asked gently. He proceeded to recap the whole conversation. Apparently she was really only concerned that I wasn't doing anything he didn't want and he told her repeatedly that he liked it. They never discussed specifics, thank god, but I'm sure she got the idea of our relationship. I felt myself being thankful that I had a very understanding grandmother. Many would have thrown me to the police for what I'd done. Or at least keep me from seeing Matt anymore. We ate on in silence after that, Matt happily munching down his French toast while sitting as close to me as possible. After I finished I reached over and kissed the top of his head, asking, "Did you get enough, Matt? I can make more." He made a show of rubbing his full belly and said, "No more, please. I'll burst!" I poked him jokingly in the belly and he gave out a little "Oomph." before jumping up and offering to do the dishes. "Thanks, kiddo," I said. He got to work on them right away and I headed out onto the patio to enjoy the morning sun. --- After a full day of swimming, diving, boating, fishing, and generally spending as much time together as possible we settled down in front of the big TV in the living room to watch the Sunday night movie. It was something we'd watched a bunch of times before so I changed the channel to a corny kung fu movie and we sat back together and laughed at the poor dialogue and photography. "I will get you," he turned to me and said in a deep voice, all the while moving his lips like a badly dubbed person from the movie. "Not before I do," I replied in kind. He squealed and ran from me, leaping over the couch and heading for the dining room. I followed close behind and just caught hold of his ankle as he crawled under the table. "I've got you now!" I said, still imitating the kung fu movie. "No, no, no!" he screamed in his real voice while trying to get away. He put forth a valiant effort but I soon dragged him out and began to tickle him mercilessly. Before I knew it his arms were around my neck pulling me in for a kiss. I kissed his small mouth happily and felt his little body arch up to meet mine. We lay like that for some time, me on top of him, nearly covering him with my larger frame, and just kissed. We were reveling in our time with just each other and no interruptions. I felt his tongue pushing at my lips and let it in gladly. We rolled over so he was on top, knocking over a chair but not really caring at that point, and he began to really kiss me in earnest. "Let's go to bed," he said, breaking the kiss. "Okay, beautiful boy," I said. He cooed when I said it and nestled into my shoulder with a big smile on his lips. Rather than disengage, I sat up with him in my lap and stood up, carrying him. I hadn't carried him in years, feeling a little surprised at his weight, but he loved it. I carried him back into our bedroom, loving the fact that it was "ours" (he had moved his stuff in immediately after breakfast), and laid him gently on the bed. Letting him set the pace, I laid down next to him. He rolled over on top of me and resumed the kiss. After a time of heavy tongue action, he rolled off and began to unzip my pants. Neither one of us was wearing a shirt. In fact, we had spent most of the day naked as the day we were born, but as the evening got a little colder we had changed into shorts. As soon as he got the zipper all the down he reached in and played with my cock through my jockeys. I moaned my approval. "I want to see you cum," he said softly as he began to kiss me again. I wouldn't have protested even if he let me. He disengaged from my lips and turned around in order to slide my shorts off. I lifted up my butt to help and simultaneously pulled his shorts down to his knees, enjoying the fact that he preferred elastic waists. He was kneeling on the bed next to me so I couldn't get them any further than there. It was then that I found out he wasn't wearing any underwear, his firm ass, now tanned by hours in the sun nude, smiled at me. The tiny rosebud of his anus was winking at me as he worked hard at getting my shorts off. When he finally succeeded he did the same with my jockeys. He sat cross legged next to me on the bed after removing his pants the rest of the way and looked me over in the light. I loved watching his face as he took in every curve, every crevice of my body. His cock jumped a little when his beautiful eyes fell on my own hard member. He looked at my face then, and said softly, "I love you so much." "Ditto, kiddo," I said, laughing at the silly rhyme. He giggled at it and lay down along my side. I tried to caress his skin with my other hand but he swatted it away. "Nope, you can't do anything but sit there," he said with a smile. He then proceeded to lightly brush his perfect little fingertips down my chest towards my aching penis. I moaned my pleasure and he smiled at his triumph. Before I knew what was happening, he was gripping my penis with both hands. I gasped when he touched it, this being only the second time, and he seemed thrilled with the reaction he was causing. He bent over at the waist, resting his head on my stomach for a better view as he began to slowly stroke my cock with one hand, the other arm curling up along my side. It felt wonderful having those warm little digits wrapped softly around the shaft while his hungry blue eyes took in every detail. It wasn't long before I was gasping for breath and release. For someone who had very little practice under his belt, Matt was doing an admirable job. Sometimes I had to give him little pointers like "Not so fast," or "Don't squeeze so hard," but for the most part he did an amazing job. Within minutes, minutes that felt like hours, I felt my balls tighten up next to my body and the familiar tingling began in my belly. Matt watched it all in wonder and waited for his reward. "I'm going to cum soon, little guy. If you don't want it in your face you might want to move," I said between gasps of pleasure. "Really?" he said in wonder as he moved his head back up by my shoulder. The shift in weight and the warm feeling of his cheek on my skin pushed me over the edge. I felt my muscles clench and Matt cried out in surprise as my cock began to rhythmically throb. He continued to pump as hot globs of cum, much whiter and much bigger than his were, began to spurt out of the tip of my cock. The first shot landed up near one of my nipples, barely missing Matt's forehead. The subsequent drops landed around my belly button, eventually dwindling down to little dribbles out of my hole. I almost fainted, the pleasure was so intense. Matt was gasping a bit too as his own body responded to mine. I looked over and saw that his cock was raging hard and pulsing with his heartbeat. "Wow," was all the Matt could get out. I grabbed my underpants off the side of the bed and wiped myself more or less clean with them. Matt rolled over on his back and closed his eyes, apparently trying to save the memory. I took the opportunity to reach over and grab his quivering boy flesh in one hand. He moaned loudly but didn't protest so I started stroking him softly. "You want me to make you cum, little boy?" I asked. He simply nodded his assent so I began squeezing along with the stroking, something I knew would drive him crazy. It worked perfectly, evident by his rapidly shrinking scrotum and shortening breath. "I want to try something new, Beautiful, but if you don't like it I'll stop, okay?" I asked timidly. I didn't want to freak him out but I needed something more from this little sexual god. "Okay," He said, drawing it out into one long syllable in his pleasure. I took the chance to kiss him lightly on the lips before shimmying down so my head was on a level with his crotch. I released his cock from the embrace of my fingers and moved my face closer. I blew gently on his cock, making it jump slightly. As I played with his tight little scrotum with the tips of my fingers, I moved my nose millimeters away from his young manhood and inhaled his sweet scent. Although he was sweating profusely from his pleasure, the scent was fresh and delicious; kind of like the smell of a freshly watered lawn or the ground just after a rain. I thought it impossible but I fell even further in love with him at that simple yet deeply personal interaction. I wasted no time in gently picking up the impossibly soft tip of his penis with my lips. He moaned loudly when my lips touched his skin and popped open his eyes to see what I was doing. His eyes grew wide once again and the same look of wonder grew on his face from when he had first ejaculated during our first night together. As he watched in interest I slowly took all four inches into my mouth, being careful to wrap my lips around my teeth so as not to rake them along his sensitive member. "Oh, wow," he moaned as he dropped his head. He was completely and totally mine from that moment on. Whatever I did, he was in my control. I cupped his testicles gently while I began to slowly slide up and down his narrow shaft. Each time I bottomed out I would feel his pulsing head touch the back of my palate, but I suppressed my gag reflex, something I'd learned to do with lots of practice. It wasn't long before his whole body began to tremble and I heard him weakly say, "I'm gonna cum, you gotta stop." I paid him no heed and began to squeeze his little boy cock with my lips while I slid quickly up and down. "Unnh," was all I heard from him before his now enlarged penis began to twitch in my mouth. Glob after glob of white-hot boy cum began to stream into my mouth. I backed him out until just the head of his penis was in my mouth. I wanted to taste every precious drop of this, only the second ejaculation of his short life. In between blasts I licked his piss slit to encourage more to come out, being rewarded with a fresh flood of fluid. After what felt like ten hot blasts my mouth was full of his seed. I swallowed happily, enjoying the fresh taste of his immature sperm and overactive prostate. I let his now flaccid penis flop gently out of my mouth and onto his belly before moving my head back to the pillow and pulling him into me for a good cuddle. His back was to me and my semi-hard cock nestled neatly between the golden tan globes of his ass. He was almost asleep from the exertion when he asked, "What does it taste like?" "You taste sweet, like sugar water, to me. Everyone tastes different." "Oh," he responded sleepily. After a moment he continued, "I love you so much it hurts, do you know that?" "I love you too, little guy," I replied, my heart soaring. "Get some sleep, okay?" "Okay," he said. Before long I could hear the slow, even breath of sleep from him. I followed soon after, reveling for a moment in the contact between our two bodies. I was happy beyond belief when I woke up the next morning to find the two of us in the same position.