Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2019 23:11:00 +0000 From: h00oy5+5vkqns9lynzpg@guerrillamail.com Subject: Robin's Adventures ? Part 8 | G After a weekend of furious sex with Jason and his brother Sean, I was eager for another sleep-over. I wanted Jason to stay at my place, and over dinner on Sunday, I asked my parents if he could. My little brother Chris, immediately begged me not to. Nine years old, going on 10, he was suffering from the same bedwetting problem I'd overcome, and didn't want any of my friends to see him in diapers. This hadn't been a problem before we'd moved from Zurich to San Diego, but that was more than a year before, and as he'd gotten older, was more acutely embarrassed. I tried convincing him that Jason was a really good guy, and wouldn't make fun of him, but it was no good. As it turned out, we had family plans the next couple of weekends, anyway. After that, Jason had a big tournament. It was a while before we could thrust our hands down each others' pants. Because of his after school practice with a coach, we only saw each other briefly in P.E., and at lunch. On a few occasions, when the coast was clear, we'd sneak through a hidden wash under the junior high perimeter fence, to our secret sex grotto. It was just a hollow in an overgrown shrub, but it was perfect for two 13-year-old boys to make out, and masturbate and fellate each other. On one of those days, I'd come home from dawn surfing to shower and get my little brother up. My mom was late on laundry, and I found only one pair of clean undies: a pair of Jason's snow white, size 12 Fruit-of-the-Looms. I didn't much care for them, because they were a size too big, anyway. But also, American briefs looked to me kind of like big diapers. Like my little brother, I'd struggled to over come a bed-wetting problem, and didn't need a reminder. Still, they looked kind of sexy on Jason, who was bigger than me by at least 10 pounds and 6 inches. While I pulled on the soft, thick cotton, I thought about how Jason's underpants hugged his firm, athletic ass mounds. Suddenly, I had an aching boner pressing up the thick center panel. Just the idea of being in another boy's undies made me throb. I gritted my teeth, and tried to think about Mrs. Martinez, my gray-haired social studies teacher, and got dressed for school. Over breakfast, I mentioned to mom I was out of clean underwear. "You're old enough to do your own laundry, Robin," she replied. "Tonight, you're going through Laundry 101." As I'd find out over the next couple of years, this was actually a good thing. School passed by quickly enough. I was a pretty focused student, and on the honor roll, along with Jason. But if I lost attention for a moment, my mind would drift back to the fact I was wearing another boy's underpants, and my bald little love snake would pop to its full 3 inches. When we met up at lunch period, Jason gave me a once-over and said, "I love your clothes, Robin." I smiled mischievously at him, while pulling the side of my twill trousers down an inch to show a peek of waist band, and said in a quiet voice, "Guess who's undies I'm wearing?" His eyes widened, and he grinned. "Let's go to the bush!" Sneaking to the courtyard bordered by the shrub-hidden breach in the school perimeter, we were relieved to find no teachers chatting or students laying on the grass. Passing through the empty area, we reached the the bushes hiding a gap under the chain-link fence. Soon, we were in our juniper bush retreat. Jason looked longingly at me, and first gave me a huge hug, before pulling back, and leaning in for a sweet, delicious kiss. I ran my hands around his back and down to his sweet, round buns. He ran his fingers through my collar-length blond hair, as our tongues played lightly across each other. We were both hard as steel, and I could feel his cock pressing against my stomach. Undoing his belt with one hand, I grabbed his throbbing trouser trout firmly through his pants with the other, and he moaned into my mouth. While he unfastened my pants, his quickly fell to his ankles. I ran my hands up and down my boyfriend's slender, muscular thighs, and our breathing quickened. Just then, my twill trousers fell, and Jason grasped my pulsating, 3-inch love wand through the baggy, snow white briefs he had traded with me. I moaned, and, got on my tip toes and kissed along his jaw to his ear. He lowered to rest his fine, firm ass on a branch, so we were roughly at the same height. Pressing against Jason's firm, slender body, I felt my little hardness rub against the thick, throbbing 5-inch pubescence tenting his snug white underpants. We were kissing again, while our needy hands groped round and round each other's bodies. Our tongues wrestled as our lips desperately worked to and fro. Our hips were rolling, first slowly, then faster, as we pushed our cloth-clad boners together. "I love seeing you in my undies," Robin whispered into my ear, then nibbled my earlobe. Stifling a growl, I pressed my turgid little member against Jason's savage lust rocket. "I love your big, hard cock, Jase," I sighed, and humped faster against the vibrating meat stretching his boy briefs. Friction was building in those soft, white cotton dick prisons, and I could feel moisture seeping from Jason's side of the turgid textile mass. Running one of my hands from Jason's tennis-honed butt to the dick party, I confirmed he was saucing himself with copious pre-cum. Pulling the front of his tight, white briefs below his firm, smooth nut sack, I whispered, "Let me know when you're ready to cream," then ran the tip of my tongue into his ear canal. His dick was drooling harder, so I took him into my hand. "Turn around," I whispered. Soon, he was bent over the bush branch, and I was stroking his fat sausage, from the wispy few pubes at the base, to the flared ridge of his red mushroom head. Using his natural boy lube, I gently stroked his enraged head until he stifled a moan, then went back to stroking his quivering shaft. At the same time, I pressed my little cotton-cloaked dick into the woven padding covering his firm butt crease. Up and down I ground my little pickle through the soft barriers separating juicy round ass from my heaving hunger. I slumped onto his back and pumped with frenzy into his hot cotton-wrapped ass canyon, while stroking him harder, and faster, and gently rolling his ever tightening fruit bag. We were both starting to sweat though our shirts and our breathing grew more labored. "I'm about to blow, Robin," Jason gasped as quietly as he could. I stroked his shaft harder with one hand, while tickling his dick head with other. He couldn't hold back a loud groan, and I felt the first of 4 spurts jet through his wonderful penis. Frantically milking him with one loving hand, I gathered all of his love honey in the other. As he heaved, I drove my cotton-cloaked meat stick between his steamy globes. As he slowed, I stopped stroking Jason and just held onto his thrusting love nozzle. At the same time, my heat was growing. I humped him harder, through both our briefs. They should have caught fire. The hot itch built from behind my balls all across my torso, and suddenly my little quivering prong erupted hard, dry and explosively. Stars exploded behind my clenched eyelids. Forcefully, I pumped with all my might, hugging Jason as I pounded for 3 or 4 bursts before darkness fell. Yeah, again, I passed out. My boyfriend, thankfully, was getting used to it, and let me slowly recover while curved over his sinewy back. He chuckled. "You're getting more predictable." "You drive me crazy, asshole." As I stood up, I remembered my cum-filled hand, which was now a dripping mess. Eagerly, I gobbled Jason's boy goo. Sweet, salty and tasting slightly like carrots, it was milky and delicious. Jason giggled when I leaned down to clean off the last few drops from his tender, flaccid penis. "After the Encinitas tournament this weekend, my coach goes on vacation for a week," he said, looking me hard in the eye. "No afternoon practice!" "YES!" I leaned and gently kissed his full, beautiful lips. We pulled up and fastened our trousers and belts, then leaned in for another long, tender kiss. As he scurried ahead of me down the brush trail, I grabbed his firm, bouncing bottom. Jason giggled a little too loudly, just as we exited the shrubs. We hadn't stopped to check the way, and rain into Cindy Mathews as she walked to a classroom. Stopping suddenly and shooting us a sardonic grin, she lifted an eyebrow. "Smoking dope, dudes? Or having sex?" "No! Shut up! We were eating lunch." Jason cleverly sputtered. "Yeah, shut up!" I added, as we quickly trotted down a courtyard away. Cindy was in a couple of my classes. A pretty girl with shock white hair and a lot of freckles, we weren't friends, but we were friendly. I didn't think it was a big deal, but Jason did. He was paranoid about anyone learning of his homosexuality. "She hangs out with Susie McCallister," Jason quietly noted. One of the few girl bullies on campus, Susie was rumored to smoke pot, and was supposed to be sexually precocious - what we would have called a "slut," back then. "Don't worry, man. I have music with her in 5th period. I'll convince her we went off campus to hit McDonald's." Putting his mind at ease, I gazed down at Jason's firm, flexing rump, and my pre-pubescent dick quivered. ============================== As he promised, Jason had a whole week of vacation from tennis, which he spent mostly at my house, "to do homework." Usually, we were the first home, and we'd raced up to my room. After slamming the door she, we stripped off our clothes with lightening speed. Wrapping our arms around each other, we pressed our hot boy chests together, and he'd lean down to furiously kiss my hungry lips. Our tumescent boy poles pressed upward; Jason's fat, diamond hard, 5-inch cock against my hairless pubic mound and stomach, while my skinny, throbbing 3-inch love drill poked up against his firm, bald scrotum. Moaning into each others' mouths, we ran our hands up and down slender thighs, around unyielding butt cheeks, and up across 8th-grade backs, before we pushed each other onto my queen-sized bed. Quickly, we'd wrestle and pin each other into mutual cock-sucking holds. I craved Jason's bobbing beast, as it tried to stare me down. I hungered for that thick, pulsing penis, from its fat, flared helmet, to the small fringe of hair at the root. Whether staring into that piss-slit eye from above or below, or side-by-side, I'd start to gently stroke his unyielding shaft above his creamy, while gently massaging his firm, smooth, plum-sized sperm bag. At the same time, he'd stroke my thin, 3-inch love poker, from my bald, straining little nuts, to the flared ridge of my angry red head. Throbbing with every heartbeat, my little boy stick desperately needed his commanding, yet gentle touch, and my hips would start to rock slightly back and forth with my boyfriend's skillful fingers. Tickling my tongue around his pulsing helmet, I'd taste that sweet, salty stream of delicious boy juice seeping from Jason's penis eye. Ravenous for more, I'd pull my teeth behind my lips, and pull his love monster into my small mouth. Loosely settled on my saliva-sloppy tongue, his pulsating hardness would bob against the roof of my mouth and back, as it slid toward my throat and back toward my lips again. I was getting better about gagging, and gently slammed his hard, desperate love as far as it could go, before pulling back. Slowly, then faster, I'd lick and try to suck. He was so big in my mouth. At the same time, he'd pull all of me into him, from my tiny little dick head to where my tight little love pouch hugged into me. He'd clamp his full lips from my pubic mound to my taint in his hot, wet, soft mouth hole and suck hard, while running his hands up and down my skinny little boy butt. I'd groan and gently pull on his bigger scrotum, while licking and stroking his much more developed adolescent wonder wand. Jason's carnivorous appetite would grow, and he'd hold my little prong, running his tongue up and down the steely hardness, and caressing my skinny little buns. I'd feel fingers running the length of my crack, back and forth, until a finger would rub around my fist-tight back door. As he'd kiss and suck up and down my quivering penis, I'd copy him and wrap my lips around random bits of his head and shaft, drinking in more and more of his thin, but spicy pre-cum. Moaning and rolling and running our hands around buns and thighs and along each others' moist, hot ass valleys, we'd each work a finger into the other's dark mines. Back and forth our fingers would gently press, as our anuses slowly stretched. Finally, as we licked, kissed and sucked harder, our fingers entered. Our little boy holes opened and clenched around our fingers, with each throb of our turgid cocks. We could not hold back from approaching orgasms: it was useless to resist. One of us would eventually succumb to the frenzied heat unquenched by waves of saliva, and the furious beat of savage tongues. Usually, Jason's sensitive boy tool lost the battle, as his grape bag tightened and he plowed my mouth hard. Jets of hot goo filled my mouth. I couldn't swallow all of his nectar, and much would drool down my lips. Grunting and thrusting his hips like a locomotive, he'd hold me in his mouth until he'd finish cumming. As I'd suck and milk the last spume out of his softening boy tube, he'd pick up the pace on me. Alternately licking and sucking my 3-inches of pounding hardness, he'd use one hand to gently rub the little nuggets quivering against my pre-pubescent taint, while his other hand kneaded and rubbed my flexing ass, and his finger fucked my little hole. By now, my hips were working more furiously, as I unconsciously drove my pelvis toward Jason's ravenous mouth. My anus opened and closed, in time with the my heartbeat, and the tightening of my little sack. I'd feel the heat and itch build, and press up toward my penis, and out through my belly. My feet would beat uselessly against the bed, and my fists clenched my comforter, but I could not hold it back. White hot fire would erupt, and my little helmet silently wailed furiously. A pulse or two would ram through my little prong: Dry. Infertile. Pre-pubescent. I would be filled with mad, desperate joy, and stars shot though my clenched eyes, before night descended. Moments later, I'd feel my boyfriend's hands caressing my tummy and behind, whispering my name with love and light. "Robin, I love you so much." "Not as much as I love you, Jason." He'd crawl around so we could lie side-to-side, naked and fulfilled, holding hands or hugging. Occasionally serious, he'd tell me he though it was "hot when you cum so hard you pass out." Then he'd express concern. For a while, I'd reassure him, then agreed I should ask my dad about it. We'd kiss until we'd hear the distant sound of the front or garage door opening, reach for our clothes and hit the bathroom to get more fully clean. Usually, I just left on my tight, little European underpants and a t-shirt. The first time, Jason was surprised when we got our books and went downstairs to do homework in the kitchen. "That's all you wear?" he whispered. "Ya. Is there a problem?" He blushed and fumbled. "No..." I'd fix snacks while my 16-year-old sister or my little brother roamed around, and we'd intensely focus on homework. Lori and Jason got on really well, and soon, Chris got over his shyness around my tennis stud. Eventually, my parents sorted out dinner, while chatting with the boy who'd stolen my heart. One afternoon was really warm, and neither of us had much homework. After we finished exploding into each other, panting and sweating, I said, "we should go swimming." "I don't have a swim suit." "You don't need one. We don't wear them." Slightly shocked, he looked at me as if I was kidding. Knowing that Americans were body conscious, I reminded him I'd grown up in Switzerland, my mom was German, and my family just didn't give a shit. "When we visit my grandmother in Munich, we all swim in a lake without suits, and when visit my grandpa in Hamburg, we go to a nude beach." As his jaw dropped, I added, "Ya, the water can be pretty fucking cold." Then I put a finger up and curled it into a fist, and he laughed. A little uneasy, he agreed. I threw a towel over my shoulder, while he wrapped one arrow around his waist, and we went downstairs, past my sister, who was pouring iced tea. "Hey guys," she said, barely looking up. "Hey Lori," I called back. Soon, we were splashing in the cool blue of my parents' backyard pool. I love the feeling of water against my unclothed junk, and back then, I had no idea how rare it was in the U.S. We were playing all kinds of games, and dunking each other. Wrestling, we rubbed and rolled our slick, hairless skin against one another. Occasionally we'd grab each others quickening hardness. I had my arms around him, and we were lightly kissing, when I heard a discrete cough. It was my sister, trying hard not to laugh. Busted! She looked away, as she said, "Jason, your mom's on the phone. Should I tell her you'll call her back?" He was so embarrassed, I think his whole body went red, as he pulled away from me. "Uh, no, that's OK, Lori," he mumbled, as she was walking back into the house. Turning to me with wide eyes and his mouth open, I answered his unspoken question, "Lori's cool, dude. Just go talk to your mom." He swam to the ladder, but waited until the door shut behind my sister before climbing out. I could see he his succulent boyhood was again flaccid, before he wrapped a towel around himself, and went inside. Turned out, Jason't mom needed to pick him up, and he couldn't stay for dinner. But as we got dressed, I smacked his butt. "You need to be punished for leaving early," and grinned. He giggled, wiggled his hips at me, and whispered, "Yeah, Robin, I need to be taught a good, hard lesson." ================================== I think it was the same night, over dinner, that I came out to my family. It wasn't planned. But we were tightly knit -- even if my parents could be space cadets about work. I don't know how the conversation went, but at some point, my mom turned to me and said, "Your friend Jason is a very nice boy. He's very handsome." I may have blushed and looked down at my food, as she went on, "Seems you two are very close. He's seems like more than just a friend." I didn't say anything, and after a moment, my dad said, "You guys...are really good with each other." Silence around the table, as my parents and my sister looked intently at me. Chris was working on his dinner, and wasn't paying attention. My sister raised her eyebrows, and gave me an encouraging look. "Ummm. Yeah. He's...I don't know. I guess I'm in love with him." My sister gave me a thumbs-up. My mom smiled. A warm, loving woman, she was also very German, and very direct. "It's good that you have a boyfriend, Robin." That's when Chris looked up and piped, "I thought only girls could have boyfriends." My parents were scientists, and that put them ahead of the crowd in the 1970s. But more importantly, we'd lived for most of my life in northern Europe, where people were more realistic about humanity. Switzerland was very uptight about a lot of things, but whom people slept with was not a top-level concern. Mom ruffled Chris' blond hair, explaining, "Some girls like other girls, and have girlfriends. And some boys like other boys, and they have boyfriends. Some like both girls and boys. Your brother likes Jason, and Jason is his boyfriend." Chris was still suspicious, but my dad said, "You know how Uncle Marty and Karl live together?" Chris nodded, "Yeah?" "They love each other in the same way Robin loves Jason." I collapsed back into my chair, not knowing what to say. My dad looked over and smiled, saying "You have good taste, Robin. We like him." Chris finished chewing and thinking and turned to me. "I like your boyfriend too, Robin!" Was I blushing? I don't know. It was a sea change that I barely remember. What I do recall is my mom's gentle warning to Chris. "It's very difficult for boys to love boys in America, Chris. They can get picked on, or worse. So this is our family secret, OK? It's not a bad secret. It's a good secret. But it's just for us." Chris nodded, but I still didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Lori spoke to him next. "Just treat Jason like you would any of my friends, OK, dude?" He nodded and asked my mom if there was anything for dessert. We all laughed, but I needed to figure out how to talk to my parents. ============================= Later that night, as usual, I got my brother ready for bed. He stripped off his briefs and lay naked from the waist down onto the diapers I'd folded onto a changing towel. He really was adorable, with longish blond hair hanging just below his ears. As I sprinkled talcum on his tiny toy, he looked up at me and asked if boyfriends kissed like boys and girls did. "I guess so, Chris. But I've never kissed a girl." "Oh." He was thinking, as I pinned up his cotton diapers, and pulled him into plastic pants. "Can you show me how you kiss a boy?" My dick quivered a little, but I looked away, as I pulled him up. "Maybe some time, squirt." He wrapped his arms around me, pulling his head into my chest. "You're the best brother ever," he sighed. ============================= Though I wanted to stay at Jason's the following weekend, my aunt Julie and uncle Bob Johanson were visiting. I had to give up my room for their girls, and slept on my brother's lower bunk bed. In the middle of that Saturday night, I woke up as Chris curled around me. Dead tired, I fell back asleep with his fingertips resting under the waste band of my sheer, tight little undies. Some time later, I woke up with a fierce erection, quivering with tiny fingers squeezing and unsqueezing it. I moaned. Chris giggled into my back. "You've got a boner," he whispered. Rolling over to face, I momentarily dislodged his groping hand, before it once again gripped my hardness through the outside of my briefs. "Dude. Go back to sleep," I whispered back, as I failed to dislodge his grasp. I was still waking up while he'd been awake for a while. "Let me feel it, Robin," he almost begged. I gave in, and murmured. "Go ahead." Sliding both hands into my tight briefs, he gripped and massaged my throbbing boyhood and my tight ball bag. He didn't know what he was doing, but I was concrete hard and fully awake. Debating with myself for a full moment, I pushed a hand into his plastic pants, to caress the front of his very wet cloth diaper, pulling across a throbbing, hard lump. As I grasped it, Chris sharply gasped. "Let's get you out of these," I whispered into his ear, and pulled him out of bed. Turning on a bedside lamp, I gazed at the beautiful boy standing before me. Almost 10, Chris was mostly thin, but with residual baby fat. Like me, he was developing slower. He could have been mistaken for 8. The little bedwetting angel stretched his arms and looked expectantly at me. Translucent plastic pants held a soaked, sagging diaper. As much as I love him now, back then, I was also highly protective, and hugged him, before getting the changing supplies. Unpinning him on a towel, my heart beat faster. I quickly pulled off the wet, cotton tent. At 2.5 inches of straining boy meat, he was almost as big as me, while his tiny testicle sac merged to the base of his penis. His little package quivered, as I pulled his diaper out from under him, and he sighed as I brought a warm, wet wash cloth around his groin and and butt. I wiped and washed him clean, and his breath quickened as I gently peeled his foreskin back to clean his glans. Pouring a generous amount of baby oil into my hands, I warmed them together, before slowly slicking them along the inside of his legs, around his groin and thighs. While I'd moistened his chaffed boyhood before, I took a long, slow time, and I was diamond hard as my hand rubbed across Chris' little pulsating flesh peg. Wide-eyed, he watched as my hands rubbed more oil all around his beautiful little 5th-grade buttocks. He sighed as one I slicked one hand up and back his little ass crack, and then moaned as I caressed his tiny pork sword. "Do you want to know how boy friends kiss?" I quietly asked. He groaned and nodded, as I leaned in to touch my lips to my little brother's. It was sweet and wonderful - a kiss of pure love. I was holding his hard, throbbing little meat with one hand, the other supporting me as I knelt on over the smaller boy. Gently, I caressed his lips with mine. Slowly, his little pink clam opened, and received my tongue. Chris moaned louder, as I stroked his beautiful hardness with the palm of my hand. My fingers engulfed tender little nuggets, and reached back to his little pucker. I poured a little more oil onto the friction factory, and caressed his dick and balls and ass with a steadyily increasing pace. Our tongues met again and briefly played, before I sat back between his widely spread legs. We were breathing harder, and his hips rose a little to meet my hand and pulled away in time with my greedy, oily masturbating hand. Using three slick fingers like tender, pillowy talons, I stroked from the base of his rock hardness, along his tiny shaft, and pulled his rubbery hood over his feverishly sensitive helmet. His dick slid faster and faster between my fingers, as I gently circled his tightly bound anus with a finger from my other hand. His eyes shut tight, and he moaned loudly. I shushed him, lying down beside him, and muffled his mouth with my own. I pushed one hand under his t-shirt to gently rub his tummy, while I gently rubbed his foreskin back and forth over his well-lubricated little head with thumb and forefinger. He was panting, and I picked up speed, furiously pulling his elastic cover over the sensitive ridge. Chris suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide in alarm. "Robin! I'm going to pee!" I smiled into his eyes, and calmly reassured him it would be OK. As I pounded his pulsing rod harder, the slick sound of moistly squelching meat grew louder, and Chris squeezed his eyes tight again, heaving little grunts. I pushed him over the falls. Loudly groaning, his slender hips rose, and I felt his tiny pecker throbbing in my hand. I stopped stroking and lightly clamped on his little boy pole, and leaned in again to silence his cries with my lips. Four or five dry heaves, and Chris was done, collapsing back and sighing with delighted exhaustion. Looking down into his barely closed eyes, I memorized his enchanted, dimpled smile. Almost immediately, he was asleep, and I chuckled at our similarities. I put my little brother into fresh cloth diapers and plastic pants. I lifted him back into the lower bunk, covered him up, and put things away. Still boned, my little blue briefs were tented with desire as I shut off the light and climbed up into Chris' top bunk. I brought the baby oil with me, and after lowering my sheer undies down my thighs, I slicked my hard little staff and started stroking. With my thumb and two fingers, I rubbed from the base of my quivering stalk to the the tip of my glands, fluting around the head before stroking back down. With my other hand, I rolled my little nuts in the smooth, hairless little bag pulling tight into my crotch, while using my middle finger to press and rub from my butt crack to my undeveloped love purse. I pictured Jason's slender, muscular body, and pretended he was in bed with me; that it was his firm grasp working me into a greater frenzy. The moist, squelching sound of frothing oiled flesh grew louder. Unfortunately, so did the squeaking of bed springs and the wooden creaking of the bed frame. Chris murmured in his sleep, and I froze with self-consciousness. Keeping my body rigid silenced the bed. I resumed stroking myself, ever more violently. I was so horny, I knew it wouldn't take long to ignite a dry explosion. Polishing faster, I felt that familiar tingle build behind my sack, as and it grew into a fire that burst out my quaking shaft. My boiling head barked silently and drily. Stars exploded across my tightly shut eyes, and with clenched teeth, I choked off a groan. Somewhere, I heard springs squeak, and wood strike a wall, as I fell into darkness.