Date: Mon, 28 Oct 2002 20:42:20 -0500 (EST) From: Clark Gaybull Subject: One of Many Escapades My name is Clark. I'm lucky to live in one of those states where you can drive when you're 16. You can get your permit when you're 15 1/2. And two weeks after my 16th birthday, I'm independant of everybody - goin' where I wanna go. Another lucky thing is that my birthday is in the beginning of August. So, the lake is real warm at that time of year. For five years, I've been going to a neighbor's cabin on that 13-acre, out-of-the-way lake. But this is the first month when I can more easily show my appreciation for being welcomed at that place. The first thing I'm gonna do is borrow the neighbor's old pick-up truck, haul a few loads of sand in it, and improve the lake's beach. My helper is my neighbor's kid, Randy. He's 12 - a little plump, with sandy (get it) hair, and good with a shovel and rake. We dump a few loads (another unintended play on words) of sand on the beach and start spreading it around. It's hot work and we're glad to be able to just jump in the lake when we want to cool off. It's a warm Tuesday afternoon in August and the few permanent residents at the lake seem to all be at work. The temporary vacationers must have visited earlier in the summer 'cause we don't see any of them, either. In other words, we see no boats on the lake and no signs of activity at any of the eighteen dwellings around the lake. Maybe that's why we felt so secure in what we did next... Randy's swimsuit was flesh-colored. He was chillin' in water up to his chest when he asked, "Ever been buried in the sand?" "Yeah", I remembered, "a few times at the shore." He said, "I wonder if it's any cooler when you're buried in the sand?" "No", I answered. "It's hotter." "I don't believe that", he blurted. And he asked me if I'd bury him. "You're not gonna like it", I warned. But toward me he came anyway. And he had taken his suit off! He was naked!! With a hard-on!!! Now Randy and I had fooled around a little before. So, it wasn't so much his nakedness that shocked me. It was the publicness of it all! He laid down with his back in the sand and his dick pointed straight up. "Bury me", he commanded. So, bury him I did. Much of the sand was now wet. And, as I threw it on him, he disappeared. This was not your typical white beach sand. It was much coarser. It was dark grey when dry; almost black - and VERY heavy - when wet. Like mud. After I buried him, I asked, "Now what?" He said that he would try to get out when he wanted. So I went back to work, spreading more sand next to him to make the beach wider. A few minutes later he yelled, "I can't get outta here!" "Don't bullshit me", I growled. "I can't." "Sure you can't." A little more raking and he still hadn't moved much. "I'll make him move", I thought. I then took some sand from over his dick and told him I was going to uncover his privates. (He was getting me to do all the sand-spreading and that made me mad!) He continued to profess his inability to move, even when I exposed his stiff cock and balls. I still didn't believe he couldn't move. So, I finished the beach-grooming and was now quite pissed off. When I returned to standing over him, his dick was no longer hard. "Get me outta here", he cried. "Give it up", I said, and reached toward his cock again. I started to play with it and it returned to its former hardness. Then I began to stroke it up and down. He squirmed. But he appeared to be unable to unearth himself. I looked around to assure that there was still no lake activity. Then I made the sand over him a little wetter by dribbling some water on it. "What're you up to?" he asked. I knelt beside him, grabbed his stiff little meat between my fingers, and started to pump in earnest. "Don't", he shouted. That only made me more persistent. "Is it any cooler in the sand?" I asked. "I'm pretty hot now", he quipped. I took this to mean that I should go on. So, I went the few more steps back to the lake, filled my cupped hands with water, and dumped it around his cock to wash away any last abrasives - 'cause I had another job to finish! He had no pubic hair yet. Heck - his voice hadn't even begun to crack. Our previous fooling around included no jerking off. So I didn't know if this was gonna invove any cum or not. But I was gonna find out! I resumed fondling him and I could tell that my touch - more than the entrapment in the sand - was the source of his discomfort (or pleasure). And it made me feel so much in control. I could see my own excitedness beneath my own swimsuit. Well, how much more can I drag this out? A hand-job is a hand-job. And that's what I gave him. And he couldn't do anything about it. Finally, he shook in such a way that I knew he had orgasmed. Just before that, he was breathing really funny - gasping; then holding his breath. Gasping; then holding his breath. And, by the way, no cum was involved. When finished, I pretended that I was gonna leave him there. Then he began crying. He really couldn't get out! So, I dug around 'til he was able to free himself. He washed himself off; put his swimsuit back on; and talked about the good parts of the afternoon all the way home. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- That's my first "scenario". I don't think of it as a story 'cause it's so short, which is on purpose, 'cause, if there's too much negative feedback, then I haven't wasted much of my time. If there's enough positive feedback, then a lot more "scenarios" could follow.