Date: Sun, 17 Jul 2022 19:24:18 +0000
From: kleiner.gespenst <kleiner.gespenst@protonmail.com>
Subject: Sage Blooms In The Summer | Part 17

While middle schoolers Sage and Colton are separated by
end-of-school-year commitments, a young admirer is entranced by Colton.
Thanks to reader Qwerty for the inspiration.
If you like this work of utter fiction, or any story on Nifty, please
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"YES!" Brett Stewart screamed, then turned to his friend excitedly.
"Isn't he fucking awesome?"

"Yeah, yeah," Chuck Filson replied, rolling his eyes. "He's another
Pelé," he added, drily.

While Chuck agreed the play had been great, his buddy's enthusiasm for
Colton Vannerman's skill was almost creepy. After the two 6th-graders
had finished their own game that Saturday morning in May, Brett dragged
Chuck two fields over to watch Colton's team in its semi-finals, and
couldn't stop talking about the older boy.

But even though Brett attended the same middle school as Colton, and
surfed the same beach, at two years younger, he wasn't really friends
with the 14-year-old. Still, Brett was drawn to the the 8th-grader in a
secret way he could never admit to anyone. When his fingers crept into
his pajamas at night to rub his faithfully persistent hardness, Colton
materialized in his imagination.

Under the cloudless California skies, Brett studied his idol, even when
the action was elsewhere. Colton was a bit taller than many middle
schoolers, his golden hair fell on broad shoulders, and when he had the
ball, his long, corded legs propelled him down the field in a blur. After
the whistle finally blew at the end of the fourth, Colton had scored two
of his teams 3 goals, winning the match, and putting the team in third
place.

"Let's go say hello," Brett said to Chuck, as they grabbed their bags
and stood up in the bleachers.

"No can do, amigo" Chuck replied. "Gotta family thing." Turning with
a smirk, he added, "Don't let that stop you from kissing Colt's ass.
Later!"

Brett's face burned, but Chuck was already bounding down the bleacher
stairs and missed it. If only Chuck knew how much he wanted to even see
Colton's ass.

With families and teams celebrating or commiserating, Brett only had a
moment with Colton.

"That header was rad, Colt!" Brett said, high-fiving the tall boy.

"Thanks dude. It was mostly luck," Colton replied, just as his coach
peeled him away. "Hey Brett - see ya at Zeus tomorrow?" Colton added,
over his shoulder.

"You know it!" Brett's burst with pride that not only did Colton
Vannerman remember his name, but seemed eager to hang out. Popular kids
usually had their noses in the air, and never gave the time of day to
anyone but their direct peers - let alone little kids like Brett. But
unlike most middle schoolers, Colt didn't seem to give a shit about
social hierarchies. Maybe it was because Colt's family had moved here
from some place in Europe when he was younger. Who knows? Colt was just a
super nice guy.

Shit, he'd give anything to be friends with Colt. At least the older boy
knew his name.

Brett trudged across the fields to the lower bike racks, and unlocked his
wheels. Taking a last swig of water, he pulled on the stupid bike helmet
his parents made him wear, since "it's the law." By then, in 1993,
helmet laws had been in effect for 6 years - half of Brett's life. But
he hated wearing one. It baked his head. Besides, when was the last time
anyone got banged up on a bike?

Pedaling around the park to the main road home, Brett grinned at a
welcome sight: Colton riding his own bicycle home. He carefully studied
Colton's shorts stretching over the round contours of his ass with every
pump of his pedals.

He'd kill to see Colton's rump in the raw. Hell, he loved checking out
any boys when they changed and showered; but if he stared too long, he'd
bone up. Luckily for Brett, in 6th grade, boy boners and jerking off were
almost inconsequential. Except Brett knew that, for himself, it was more
than abstract horniness. God, he wished he didn't have these feelings.

Brett kept the same pace as Colton, watching and dreaming, and
occasionally squeezing himself. Though Colton probably didn't know it,
Brett and he lived only a couple of blocks apart. Reaching their
neighborhood, Brett sighed, ready for the older boy to turn off at Calle
de Abulón, but Colton continued straight, up Lemon Grove Hill. As if
headed to Brett's house, Colton pedaled around the canyon dividing the
boys' neighborhood.

Well before the turnoff to Brett's street, Colton stopped.  Brett had no
reason to feel guilty about following Colton on his way home, but he
immediately ducked behind a huge oleander bush. Just then, Colton climbed
off his bike, and looked back, like he was making sure he wasn't
followed.

Carefully peering through the bushes like a guilty sneak, Brett watched
Colton walk his bike down the incline, into the scrub brush-choked
canyon. What the hell was he doing? Smoking herb? A lot of high school
kids did. Like his big sister, who'd been all "Just Say No," until
10th Grade.

Burning with curiosity, Brett rolled up closer, and ditched his bike and
helmet in a stand of coastal oak. Peering around, he saw Colton's bike
and helmet laying on the ground, and the long-haired blond climbed
further into a stand of scraggly coastal oaks. Stealthily, Brett
followed, hiding behind some sage brush. And what he saw was a dream come
true.

Leaning back with his ass resting on a rock, Colton was slowly rubbing
the front of soccer shorts with the flat of his hand. His eyes were
closed, and lips slightly parted, while his chest rose and fell with
measured breaths.

He was touching himself in public! Well, sort of public, if anyone
chanced into the canyon. Brett was pie-eyed, while his rod grew
impossibly hard. He knew all boys jerked it, but seeing Colton pleasuring
himself - out in the open - was surreal, and wonderful. Brett was so
aroused, he rubbed the front of his shorts in time with Colton.

Little did Brett know that Colton was was even more inflamed than he.
While Coach Randy was congratulating Colton after the game, a brunette
boy walked by who looked like a younger version of his best friend, Sage.
Given that Sage and he were only just entering puberty, and looked much
younger than 14, it wasn't that much of a stretch for Colton to imagine
pouncing on the stranger.

It'd been weeks since Sage and he had he had been able to get together.
Both 8th graders had finished the school year with jammed-up weekends.
The handful of naughty Poloroid photos they'd taken were little
substitute for the boy's hands on him.

If only Sage were here, kissing him, and teasing him through his shorts,
pressing his palm more forcefully against Colton's pounding prick. Yeah,
their tongues would wrestle, while they stripped off each other's
shirts, like Colton was doing right now for real. And then Colton would
undo Sage's shorts, letting them fall to his feet, and he'd run his
fingertips up and down the bulge rising up the front of the boy's snug
tighty whities.

In his undies, Sage was as enticing as a well-wrapped Christmas present.
The white cotton contrasting with flawless skin, coppered from year round
swim practice, Sage's briefs would be blindingly bright in the canyon
sunlight. And the more Colton would tease him with his forefingers, the
damper Sage's underpants would grow. Colton could almost smell the
pre-cum forming a quarter-sized spot near the imagined boy's striped
waistband.

Sage would pull down Colton's shorts, like this, and Colton would step
out of them like he was doing in real life, carelessly leaving them
bunched around one ankle. They'd kiss more passionately, sucking on one
another's tongues, and Sage would grip him firmly through his jock strap
with two fingers and a thumb, stroking him steadily.


They'd be hungry, two boys perilously making out only yards away from
where anyone could catch them in the act.

Little did Colton know, but shocked wide eyes were really glued to him,
committing every moment to memory.

Brett could scarcely believe what he watched. Colton had stripped almost
completely naked! While licking his lips, and occasionally sighing, the
14-year-old was stroking himself through a shiny blue supporter, much
fancier than the normal, coarsely woven jock Brett was wearing. At the
same time, Colton was brushing his lean abs, and occasionally pinching
his nipples. Whoa!

"That's so fucking hot!" Brett thought, pinching his own nipples,
surprised at how good it felt.

Copying Colton, Brett hurriedly pulled down his soccer shorts. Though
close to the road, he was nestled inside a large clump of shrubbery, and
not worried about being seen.

Running one hand under his shirt, he wished it were Colton's fingers
brushing his soft skin. Though slender, Brett wasn't chiseled like
Colton, but in his mind, the older boy didn't care. In his imagination,
Colton's other hand rubbed him through his jock with a steady, burning
pace. But the rough material was harsh on his 4-inch hardness, and he'd
ask Colton to touch him skin-to-skin.

Colton would pull Brett's circumcised dick out of the right side of his
jock, dragging his balls with it, like this. He was sure he didn't pack
much by comparison with older boys, and assumed Colton packed a whopper.
But in his mind, Colton stroked him eagerly, loving every inch of
Brett's boyhood.

Brett stroked himself more vigorously, and itchy sparkles burst up and
down his length. Then, his jaw dropped. Colton had pulled down the front
of his jock, tucking the waistband under his nuts. Brett only saw a flash
of the older boy's genitals, and from the distance, Brett couldn't make
out any details; certainly no thick, dark thatch of hair. Maybe they
weren't physically that far apart.

Colton's dick must feel so hard. So hot. Like his own boner, which
always demanded attention. For a moment, he stopped fantasizing, and
wondered who Colton was dreaming about? Which girl at school??

Wait - what was Colton up to, now? The older boy spread his clothes into
a makeshift rectangle, and then lay on it on his back. Curling his knees
up onto his chest, Colton hooked an arm behind both knees. Brett watched
while Colton sucked on the first two fingers of his other hand, then slid
the dripping digits between his buns.

Holy fuck! He pushed them in - like way in. All the way in! It was so
weird and awesome. Colton's arm forearm muscles rhythmically flexed, so
he was doing something in there that Brett couldn't see. And it
obviously felt good, because Colton was sighing and moaning.

Brett licked his own fingers, and reached back into his summer-sweaty boy
crevice. WTF, if Colton's regular moans were any sign, this must feel
good. So Brett pushed against his tight little opening, and winced. The
more he pushed, the worse it felt. But Colton was obviously diggin' it.

It was driving Brett crazy. He wanted to push his fingers into Colton's
ass. He wanted to make the teen shake and groan.

The brutal pressure from Brett's jock strap biting under and to the left
of his junk was just the seasoning he needed for this voyeur's buffet.
Brett stroked himself furiously, feeling his nuts contracting, ready to
spasm.

Colton's moans and mutterings grew louder, echoing off the canyon
floors.

"Suck it, Sage!" Colton moaned.

Damn, whoever Sage was, she must be a total hottie. If only Colton were
into dudes, if only Colton were into him - Oh, shit, here it comes!

OH FUCK OH FUCK! Brett's entire body spasmed, squeezing dry wretches
from his loins. His dick appeared and disappeared between his grinding
thumb and forefinger, while his pee slit winked open and closed, silently
coughing out nothing.

His hips lurched so hard, he lost his balance on the incline, and fell
into the scrub brush. A branch lacerated Brett's thigh, leaving his
final orgasmic spasms forgotten, while he cried out, his squeal echoing
across the canyon.

Colton lurched in alarm, and his hands flew away from his naughty
quarters. Ordinarily graceful in everything, he fumbled back into his
clothes, tripping over himself in a panic. At the same time, a large
hedge at the canyon rim shook, and Colton knew he was busted. Rarely
rattled, Colton froze, uncertain if he should chase after the peeper, or
slink further into the canyon.

But just then, Colton heard a car's braking wheels screeching, then a
soft metallic clattering, simultaneous with a high-pitched scream.
Colton's better instincts kicked in, and he quickly scrambled up the
canyon's incline, toward the murmuring of frantic voices.

Colton was surprised to see Brett Stewart lying unconscious in the road.
His leg was bent at a hideous angle, draped over a bent bike frame. A man
and a woman hovered over the boy, while their car was stopped in the
road, a few feet away.

"What happened?" Colton asked, and learned Brett had rolled into the
road unexpectedly, just as the couple had been rounding the narrow
corner. Colton ran to a neighbor to call 911.

Later, while paramedics carefully bundled Brett into an ambulance, Colton
locked the boy's bike to a tree, and took Brett's backpack with him. At
his house, Colton hurried past his parents, rustled up the phone book,
and looked up the Stewarts' number. There were 4 Stewarts listed in
Ventura County, but only one in Oxnard, at an address only a few blocks
away, and Colton called that number.

An older girl answered, with an agitated voice.

"Uh, hello," Colton said, nervously. "Is this the home of Brett
Stewart?"

Obviously agitated, the girl replied, "Yes. He's not here."

Colton replied that he had some bad news, and that the boy had been in an
accident. However, the girl, Brett's sister, already new this.

"The police let us know. My mom and dad are on the way."

"Do you know how he's doing?" Colton asked.

She did not, and it was clear the conversation was upsetting her. Colton
wrapped up the call, telling her that he had Brett's backpack, and had
locked the boy's bike away from the street.

In a guarded conversation, Colton told his parents about the accident,
though not his unintentional part in it, then took his time getting
showered. His balls ached from his unspent load, and yet his brain was
still frozen with the fear at being spied upon, publicly masturbating. Of
course, that jeopardy had always been part of the thrill. Yet
Brett had been watching him quietly. He hadn't mocked Colton. So, maybe
Brett had been curious about what he'd seen. Maybe he even liked it.

That night, Brett's father returned Colton's call, and said Brett was
doing well, though spending the night in the hospital with a broken leg
and a minor concussion.

"Thank God for helmets," Mr. Stewart added. "He could have been killed
without one."

Colton made arrangements to visit in a couple of days, after Brett was
settled in back at home. Next, he called Sage, and Colton filled his best
friend in on the afternoon's adventures. Colton could almost hear
Sage's eyes rolling over the phone.

After practice on Tuesday, Colton showered, changed, then hoisted
Brett's backpack and walked to the canyon to collect Brett's bike.
Though the frame was bent, the bike was still rideable, and Colton
arrived at the Stewart home a few minutes later.

A girl around 16 answered the door, and Colton recognized her voice from
the phone call. Abstractly, he registered the girl's beauty.

"Thanks," the girl said, "I'm Leslie, by the way." Thankfully, the
kid didn't ogle her breasts like most boys did. She figured he was still
on the childish side of adolescence, and hadn't discovered girls, yet.

Inside the single-story ranch-style house, Leslie ushered Colton down a
hallway, into one of the bedrooms.

"Hey dummy," Leslie said affectionately to her brother, who was resting
on his bed. "Colt's here with your stuff." Turning to Colton, she
asked him if he wanted a drink, then left to fetch both boys sodas.

"Colt," Brett said, with a mixture of awe and embarrassment. The boy
was wearing only a pair of plain, white briefs, and he quickly pulled a
corner of his blanket to cover his lap. Brett's knee was elevated by a
couple of pillows, and his lower leg wrapped in a red fiberglass cast.
His left cheekbone was swollen with purple bruising, and a few other
bruises discolored the boy's arms and legs.

Colton dropped Brett's backpack by the boy's dresser, then sat on
Brett's desk chair.

"Hey dude," Colton said. "Been missing you at the beach. How ya
doin'?"

"OK, I guess. My leg hurts like a bitch," Brett replied. "I'll be on
crutches for the next couple of months, so I won't be hittin' the waves
for a while."

"That sucks," Colton replied, slowly rolling his chair closer.

"You have no idea, Colt. I can't move around the rest of the week. My
dad, um, has to, you know wash me,"  Brett said, then blushed, "and
stuff."

"STUFF?" Colt asked, wryly. "Stuff, eh?" Colton arched an eyebrow
lasciviously, while stroking the air with his fist.

Brett's jaw dropped for a moment, and then he laughed.

"No, asshole," Brett replied, floating on a layer of released tension.
Maybe he and Colton could become real friends?

"He has to get me dressed, and get me to the bathroom," Brett
continued, "And if he's not around...Ugh. It's even worse."

"Sounds it," Colton said, sympathetically. "I guess your sister has to
fill in."

As if on cue, Leslie returned.

"Brett, I have to run to the store," she said, setting down a glass of
soda on his night table. "You need to hit the can?"

"No, thanks," the boy muttered. "I'm good for now."

"Maybe just in case," she suggested.

"No worries, Leslie," Colton interjected. "I can help him if he has to
go."

Brett squirmed uncomfortably, as if they were treating him like a
helpless infant. At the same time, he was stoked the older boy
volunteered.

"That'd be sweet, if you could stick around," Leslie replied. "I'll
be back in like an hour."

After the girl left, Brett thanked Colton for staying.

"No prob, dude," Colton replied. "Friends don't let friends piss
themselves," he added, making Brett giggle.

Both boys grew quiet for a moment, sipping their colas.

"Your dad said you had a concussion," Colton said. "Is it bad?"

"Nah, I don't think so. I mean, I'm a little foggy, and I don't
remember much before the hospital. But the doctor said I should be good
in a day or two."

"Wait - you don't remember anything?" Colton asked. "Just the
accident? Or is the whole day a blank?"

Brett's eyes grew wide, and he blushed, turning away suddenly.

"Um, I remember some things," the younger boy mumbled.

"Do you remember being in the canyon?" Colton asked.

"Uh-huh," Brett whispered.

"Why were you in the canyon? Did you follow me?"

Brett looked down, and nodded affirmatively.

"Were you watching me?" Colton paused, then added, quietly, "It's OK
if you were."

Brett nodded again, too ashamed to speak.

Colton got up from his chair, and stood next to the bed. "Is it OK if I
sit here, dude?" Colton patted the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, if you want," Brett whispered, not daring to look Colton in the
eye.

Colton slowly sat, careful not to disturb Brett's position on the bed.
He had to admit, bruising aside, the younger boy was seriously cute. His
soft, almost girlish features were framed in longish, dark brunette hair
falling to his collar, like Sage's (now that Colton had convinced his
friend to grow it out). And freckles dusted his pert nose, kinda like
Sage's. Oh damn, Colton realized. He had a definite "type." He pulled
himself out of his thoughts.

"What did you see, dude?"

Brett flushed brightly, and it took him a moment to reply. "I saw you,
uh, playing with your, uh..."

Colton sighed. "I thought so." Colton closed his eyes for a minute,
then smiled. "Can you keep that a secret? Between friends?"

Brett's heart raced. Colton had called him a friend! For the second
time! Smiling broadly, Brett nodded enthusiastically at the older boy.

"Yeah, Colt!"

"Thanks, dude. I was just so damned horny, I couldn't keep it in my
pants," Colton said, sharing a confidence so casually that Brett was
enthralled. "I mean, all guys beat their meat, but I don't want to be
known as the Ventura Perv."

"Been there, done that," Brett responded with bravado. It was a lie -
he'd never even thought of rubbing his dingus anywhere but behind a
locked door. But he wanted to measure up to Colton.

The memory of Colton's lascivious display, and the older boy's current
proximity to him made Brett's penis twitch.

The 14-year-old rotated slightly, putting a knee up on the bed. At the
same time, Colton unceremoniously rested his hand on Brett's bare knee.
It was so graceful, the boy barely noticed.

"Sometimes, I'll beat if 5 or six times a day, and even that's not
enough," Colton said, his words slower, and his tone a little huskier.
"I just couldn't wait, that day."

"You were totally into it," Brett said, then froze, not sure if he'd
said too much.

"Did you like what you saw?" Colton slowly moved his finger inside
Brett's thigh, under the blanket, light as a feather, and the boy
shivered.

Brett blushed again, and merely nodded. Colton's fingertips caressed
further up Brett's thigh, and Brett's breathing grew faster.

"You've got nice legs, Brett," Colton whispered. Though the younger
boy's thighs weren't nearly as sinewy as Sage's, they were deliciously
soft and warm.

"Um, thanks, I guess," Brett mumbled. He shivered, while Colton's
fingers migrated ever closer to his helplessly engorging loins.

If Colton's hand kept on its current course, the older boy would feel
the painful swelling lurching against Brett's tightly confining
underpants. Maybe he should do something before Colton discovered his
embarrassing condition. But Colton was feeling him up, and complimenting
his legs, like...he was into it.

"Is this OK, dude?" Colton asked, almost inaudibly, while his fingers
glided to just below Brett's leg elastics. He could feel steamy heat
radiating from the boy's loins.

"Uh-huh," Brett panted, glancing briefly into Colton's eyes.

With bravado few boys could muster in the homophobic 90s, he told the
truth.

"I really like it, Colt," the boy croaked, while his gaze lowered to
check out the older boy's legs.

Even resting, Colton's muscles were corded like steel bands, and Brett
yearned to feel them. But he was cemented in place, afraid of doing
anything to ruin what was now obviously a seduction. His nerves were on
fire, and he trembled when Colton's fingers arrived at his leg opening,
resting for a moment. Then, he softly stroked Brett's balls through the
boy's pouch with his index finger, and Brett inhaled sharply.

Colton's hand glided up the front of Brett's briefs, and the boy
jerked. He'd been touched before, beating off with friends. But it had
always been perfunctory, workman-like pleasuring. Colton's slow, gentle
teasing was something so altogether new, leaving Brett vulnerable and
quaking with need, and Colton could sense it.

Brett's cock throbbed against Colton's forefinger, while he slowly
dragged it up and down the cotton-clad length. To Colton, Brett's cock
felt big for the boy's age, maybe as big as Sage's.

God, he was so horny, and Colton yearned for Sage's pounding meat. But
just then, any penis would do, and as Sage and he had agreed, desperate
times called for desperate measures.

Colton rolled onto his side, lying with his face toward Brett.

"Don't you want to touch me, dude?" Colton asked, already knowing the
answer.

"Uh-huh," Brett replied, not daring to look Colton in the eyes.

Colton almost chuckled. The poor kid was petrified. Colton pulled his
hand away from Brett, to undo his shorts, wriggling them down below his
nuts. Even with all the commotion, Brett was looking away. So Colton took
the boy's hand, and placed it on his crotch, rubbing it up and down over
his rigid, textile-trapped boyhood.

"See? I'm as hard as you, dude," Colton whispered.

Finally, Brett turned and looked down, caressing Colton under his own
power, eagerly feeling the older boy's thumping hardness through the
boy's skimpy briefs.

"Are your undies...like pink?" Brett asked with surprise.

Colton giggled. "Yeah, dude. Totally gay, right?"

Colton had to be joking.

"No, they're cool," Brett replied, though he wasn't sure that was the
right word.

"They make me feel sexy," Colton said, with a confidence that awed
Brett. What the fuck? Was he still joking?

Colton peeled back the blanket covering Brett's lap, and the younger boy
fought the urge to stop him. But then, Brett surrendered, letting his
boner go on display, pulsing up the front panel of his tight, white
briefs. And then he sighed, while Colton continued to gently caress his
engorged need.

"We can just do this for a while," Colton said, then asked, "Have you
ever touched another boy?"

This time, Brett giggled.

"Yeah. Who hasn't?" Brett replied, copying Colton, slowly stroking up
and down the older boy's length. It felt majestic.

"You have a nice boner," Colton said, now stroking it with a thumb and
forefinger on either side of Brett's rock hardness. This kid was hung!

"You do, too," Brett blurted out, then realized he'd admitted to
liking another boy's equipment. Back-pedaling, he mumbled, "I mean,
I'm sure your girlfriend digs it."

Colton chuckled, slinking closer to the boy, and sighing from Brett's
touch on his boy muscle. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Brett looked up from the Colton's groin, cocking his head and squinting
in curiosity at the older boy.

"Wait - who's Sage?"

This time, Colton was paralyzed, realizing he'd loudly vocalized his
best friend's name when he'd been jerking off in the open air. But the
cat was out of the bag, and he relaxed. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Nope, my man," Colton replied, resuming his rubbing. "Sage is a dude.
He's my best friend. You could say he's my boyfriend."

"What?" Brett fingers stalled on Colton's prong. "You have a..."

"Boyfriend," Colton carefully enunciated. "But that's another secret
between us, OK?"

Brett's world turned upside down. He didn't know anyone who would admit
to being a... fag. He could barely accept such at thing about himself. And
yet it was Colton - the fucking fearless, macho surf god of Zues Beach -
owning up to being gay. And Colton was relying on him to keep it a
secret!

"You can breath, dude," Colton chuckled, gently pinching Brett's knob
through his briefs.

"Sorry," Brett replied, shaking his head, then resumed his gentle
rubbing. "It's just...so you're gay, huh? Did somebody turn you gay?"

"No," Colton chuckled. "Nobody `turned me gay.' I just like dick.
I've always liked dick. It's how I was born, I guess."

Brett thought for a moment, and decided to open up.

"Um, me and my friends, we mess around around a lot - but they're
always talking about chicks. Maybe they're faking it. I mean, I fake it,
talking about titties. But all I can think about is my buds' dicks."
Brett paused, then quietly added, "It's what I think about when I'm by
myself, too...you know..."

Colton chuckled, and muttered, "Uh-huh."

"So I guess I'm gay, too," the younger boy pronounced, solemnly.

"Maybe," Colton replied, unconvinced. "There were dudes I played with
who didn't discover chicks 'til 7th grade."

"I'm going into 7th this fall. I'm just not into girls."

"Who knows, B," Colton shrugged. "Life's hard enough without putting
labels on things. See where you are in a year. Two years. Whenever
years."

"Can...can I ask you something?"

"Sure, dude," Colton whispered, leaning in until their faces were
inches apart. His fingers slid into Brett's underwear fly. When his
fingertips touched the boy's hot, sticky flesh, Brett gasped and jolted.

"Sorry," Colton murmured, amused. "Did I break your concentration?"

"Yeah," Brett chuckled, and nodded. He was about to mirror Colton,
slipping his fingers into the older boy's briefs, when he grew
frustrated with the slow ballet. "Dude, can I just...see your's?
Please?"

Colton, grinned. "Yeah, fair's fair."

Careful not to jostle the younger boy, he got up off the bed.

Colton pulled his t-shirt up over his head, revealing arms and shoulders
toned by paddling through deep surf. It was still wet-suit season, so he
had a sort of farmer's tan on his lower arms, neck and face, while his
torso and upper arms were winter pallid.

Biting his lower lip and looking at Brett mischievously, Colton swayed
his hips, letting his shorts fall to his ankles. Kicking off his
flip-flops and the shorts, he cut a statuesque figure.

Brett gazed up at the slender, sinewy, pubescent heartthrob. With legs
conditioned from year-round soccer, and an oval of abdominal muscles
covered with drum-tight skin, Colton was luminous. On another boy,
Colton's skin-tight, shimmering pink briefs would have been comically
scandalous. But they made Colton's slender, round buns seem painted by a
sunset. The white designer waistband bisected a stunning pelvic "V,"
girded with steely hip muscles. The front of his tight little underpants
throbbed with invitation, demanding to be touched.

Unconsciously, Brett licked his lips at the rosy treasures before him. He
still couldn't believe Colton of all people was seducing him.

"Colt, you're so fuckin' hot," the boy said, shocking himself with
his boldness. "And your underwears are kinda awesome. But...do you wear
`em to school?"

Colton laughed, and shook his head. "Nope. Mostly boxers. Mostly. When I
don't, I've got other colors." He paused, then asked shyly,
uncertainly, "Do you really think what you see?"

Brett could only nod. This was a side of Colton no one would ever have
suspected.

"I think you're sexy as fuck, B," Colton replied, leaning down to
trace his index finger along the the limb raging up the front of Brett's
tighty whities.

Straightening up, Colton smiled, enjoying the younger boy's mesmerized
attention. Very slowly, he peeled down his waistband, pulling it out and
away from his erection, then down below his genitals. Letting his pink
underpants fall to his ankles, he stepped out of them, and put a hand on
his hip.

"Hmmm?" Colton hummed, and gave Brett a questioning glance.

The younger boy stared in awe at Colton's uncut cock. While he'd been
expecting a man monster, nestled in a thick pubic forest, he was relieved
by reality. Crowned with a smattering of soft pubes darker than Colton's
blond mane, the slender 3 inch erection waved in the air, pulling a
smooth, round sack with every pulse. Brett thought it was beautiful,
especially the moist eye peering out through the port hole of his
foreskin.

A couple of boys in his gym class were uncircumcised, so he knew the
reason for the extra skin. But he'd never seen one hard, before.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," Brett replied, nodding with a smile.

"Now it's your turn," Colton said, reaching down to grasp the boy's
underwear.

He gently pulled the blue-striped waistband down, over Brett's hips. The
younger boy braced with his arms and one good leg, lifting his buttocks
up to help. It took a little work, but Colton shimmied Brett's briefs
down his legs, then off. Then, he took a moment to study the
almost-12-year-old.

Though his physique wasn't fibrous, like Colton's, the younger boy was
lean, and he shared the same wetsuit tan lines.

Brett's circumcised boyhood beat against his unblemished pubis
impatiently. It was bigger than Colton's by at least an inch, though his
smooth little scrotum was still fused to the base.

The boy's utter hairlessness was strangely arousing. Mere months ago,
Colton had been just as smooth, and impatient for big boy hair. Now,
though he was glad his junk was finally starting to grow, he was
nostalgic for hairless innocence.

"Nice," Colton murmured, then lay back down on the bed.

"Thanks," Brett replied, happy he wasn't letting Colton down. "Can
I..?" Brett asked, tentatively.

"Yeah, of course," Colton said, with a soft giggle.

Brett's fingers traced all over Colton's turgid tool, making the older
boy shiver. Colton found the boy's nervous eagerness electrifying.

While Brett explored pubic hairs for the first time, then caressed
Colton's diamond hardness and smooth ball bag, Colton surveyed the
boy's prepubescence. He didn't know why, but he found the smoothness
magical.

Brett was fascinated with Colton's foreskin, and how he could pull it
back and forth over the older boy's knob. It appeared and disappeared,
like a turtle head, and gentle motion made Colton moan. And beads of
moisture drool out of the tip.

"Is that sperm?" Brett asked.

Colton shook his head, and quickly explained pre-cum. He didn't make
much, but it seemed to delight Brett.

Colton's solid, moist meat pounded against his fingers, and after a
moment, he mirrored the older boy's grip, with a thumb on one side of
the shaft and, and two fingers on the other. Despite his quivering,
impatient need, Brett deliberately matched the older boy's unhurried
cadence.

Colton levered his free arm from under his side, then caressed Brett's
cheek for a moment. Unconsciously, Brett rubbed his face against
Colton's hand, almost purring at the sensations engulfing him. Colton's
nose traced against his, and Brett moaned, happily helpless in the older
boy's hands. He started to forget his role in things, with his hand
incapacitated on Colton's cock, because growing waves of rippling,
tickling fire rolled up and down his penis. And then it happened.

Colton's lips met his, and Brett shuddered. He was being kissed for the
first time! He'd always thought his first would be with a girl.
Actually, he'd never even thought about kissing a boy, because he'd
never even heard of boys kissing boys. But now, it all made sense.

After a few gentle smacks, Colton whispered for Brett to open his mouth,
and Brett let the older boy school him in wordless passion. Colton's
tongue met his, and they wrestled. It was so natural, like breathing; so
easy and delicious. Brett couldn't get enough.

The 14-year-old was now stroking him firmly, insistently. And then Colton
lips left his, kissing down his neck, down his quickly rising and falling
chest - to his nipple. Colton nibbled and sucked on it, making Brett
squeal. A moment later, Colton worked on the other nipple, pulling
tortured groans out of Brett.

Colton kissed downward, to the boy's navel, while continuing to stroke
Brett firmly. But in the process, he scooted downward, his cock pulled
away from Brett's clutching fingers.

Oh my God! Brett marveled. Is he going to..? Brett didn't want to get
his hopes up, but oh, shit! Colton was licking into his belly-button,
then moving past.

Colton was intoxicated. The closer he got to the prize, the more aromas
he savored. And as he kissed down the soft, salty plain of Brett's
pre-teen pubic mound, he was stupefied by musk fragrances and a hint of
urine.

Colton stopped stroking Brett, holding the boy's veiny prong by the
base. Colton studied it hungrily for a moment. The pink head was like a
cherry, ripe for the tasting, and Colton flicked his tongued across its
tender tip.

"Aaaah!" Brett gasped. Colton Vannerman had just licked his dick - and
then it happened AGAIN! And AGAIN!

Colton pursed his lips around Brett's tender nozzle, and sucked on it,
while lashing the underside with his tongue. At the same time, he stroked
the boy's stem with a thumb and forefinger, while gently rolling
Brett's balls with his other hand.

A tsunami of pleasure rolled from Brett's cock, outward. Colton was
really doing it! Sucking his dick!

"Gnnnaaaahh!" Brett gasped. "So...rad! Ohhhh!"

Colton pulled off Brett's nozzle, to lick his stalk from tip to root,
and back, treating it like a fleshy popsicle, working it from all sides.
At the same time, he gently rolled the boy's tiny grapes in his
fingertips. Unlike his own scrotum, Brett's was a shrink wrapper of
skin, clearly defining each of Brett's tender testicles. They were
small, like marbles.

Colton stopped stroking the boy, and rubbed along the inside of the
younger boy's soft, warm thigh, up to his tummy. He gently rubbed the
boy's nascent abs in time with his tongue's languid laps.

Brett's whole body trembled, and the room echoed with loud moans, before
Colton broke off from his tongue-lashing. Releasing the boy's nuts from
from his fondling hand, Colton soaked the middle finger, then palmed
Brett's testicles once again. His digit found the flabby edges of
Brett's lower crevice, and slid between the soft, slender melons.

"Uuuh! What're you...Whaahh?" Brett's head shook when he felt
Colton's finger tip slowly circling his drain. When he'd tried to
imitate the older boy, it'd been shabby and painful. But Colton was
taking his time, gently tickling his tight ring with patient mastery.

Brett had never even thought of playing with another boy's anus, and he
tried not to analyze the sordid details, because it felt sooooo goooood!
There was a spicy tickle to Colton's tender touch. And then, his nuts
were enveloped in a wash of hot, wet meat! Colton was sucking and licking
his balls!

Colton knew Brett was at the edge, so stayed clear of the boy's pounding
bone. Instead, he spent a long time worming his way into Brett's tender
tunnel, while worshipping Brett's diminutive boy balls.

Brett's breath was labored, and unconsciously, he stroked his fingers
through Sage's shoulder-length, golden hair.

He barely registered the moment Colton's finger entered him. But
suddenly, there was a pressure somewhere behind his nuts - an aching
pleasure! It resonated in his balls and up through his cock.

"Holy...uh uuuuuhUUUUH!" Brett wailed in a pitch much higher than his
school boy voice. He didn't know what Colton was doing inside him, but
the older boy's finger was playing his body like a guitar.

Colton's sealed his lips around Brett's knob once again, and slid down,
until his nose was buried in the boy's smooth and creamy loins. With
Brett's tip in his throat, Colton used his entire mouth to massage the
boy's prong with swallowing vortices. Colton's throat rhythmically
constricted and relaxed around Brett's glans, while that aching fire
played deep inside his bowels.

"I'm..uuuuuh...so close!"

He couldn't take much more, and Colton could feel the boy's shaft
quivering in between his cheeks and tongue.

Very quickly, he bobbed up and down on Brett's boyhood, sucking it hard.
Slurp, slurp, slurping.

"Oooh! Ohh shit!" The itchy tingles built into a familiar fire. His
balls burrowed into him, tightening, trying in vain to wring out what
they could not yet make.

Then, everything seemed to explode. Stars erupted in Brett's eyes, and
he shrieked. It seemed like everything in his loins and bowels burst. His
fists were balled in Colton's hair, pulling hard, while his body shook,
and wave after wave of dry fire burst from boyhood.

After what seemed like an eternity of volcanic plumes bursting out of
him, Brett almost passed out. He gasped like a landed fish, quivering
with each dying pulsation. He barely registered his cock wetly twitching
on his pubis, nor Colton's finger exiting his bum.

Colton carefully got up to search for the kitchen, with his rigid limb
leading ahead like a dowsing rod. Moments later, he reappeared with paper
towels in his freshly washed hands.

"That was so fucking rad, Colt. That was the best thing ever!" Brett
sighed, as the older boy lay down next to him again. He felt close and
comfortable with the older boy, now. "What's with the paper towels?"

Colton smiled. "I was hoping you'd do me, now. And I shoot...so..."
Colton waggled his eyes meaningfully.

Colton caressed the boy's tummy, noticing that the little horn-dog was
still hard. He took the boy's member in his finger tips, gently stroking
the rigid meat. Still so warm and hard, the surface coated with soft,
flawless skin.

"Mmmm..." Brett sighed. He wished Colton didn't have a stupid
boyfriend. "I'd rather, uh, suck your dick, if that's OK." Brett
slowly articulated words he'd never dreamed of saying out loud.

Colton grinned. "Sweet, dude," he replied, stroking the boy a little
more firmly. "If you weren't propped up, we could do a 69. But we'll
make it work."

"Uhhhh...God I love you touching me, Colt," Brett puffed. "Can I ask
you a question?"

"If I don't brake your concentration, again," Colton giggled.

"Not this time," Brett replied, with a grin. "You did something in my
butthole. It was so fierce. What was it?"

While stroking the boy steadily, Colton leaned in to kiss Brett's
earlobe, and whispered, "I was rubbing your prostate."

"My what?"

Colton sighed, remembering he didn't know about prostates in 6th grade,
either, and explained the mysterious pleasure button.

"So that's why you were playing with your butt in the canyon?"

"Uh-huh," Colton replied. "I do it whenever I jerk off. I love getting
fucked in the ass, too."

"NO WAY!" Brett gasped. He'd always thought "butt-fucking" was
humping another boy's buns - something he did with Sasha. But having a
boy's dick inside him would be amazing! He had to feel what it was like.

"Would you...want to fuck me?"

Colton puffed his cheeks and blew out in frustration. He did. But he
wouldn't.

"Sorry, buddy. That's something I only do with Sage." Colton realized
he'd also have to have the Safe Sex talk with Brett. But that could
wait.

Colton turned the boy's head with his free hand, so their lips could
meet again. Their tongues met in familiar communion, and Brett grew more
sophisticated with his lip play. But the friction on his cock was
burnishing him with fiery need.

Brett pulled his lips away. "Faster, Colt. Jack me faster!"

Colton's hand polished Brett urgently, violently. The boy's eyes
shuttered again, and his tummy rose and fell with his tattered panting.
His hips rocked up a little, to meet Colton's fingers.

"UUH! UHH! UHHH! UUUH!!!" Brett cried out, as searing pleasure poured
through his prick, in a series of dry pulses.

Slowly, Colton eased up, then simply held Brett, while the boy's penis
punctuated the moment with weakly waning percussion. He was sure he could
have gotten the younger kid off a few more times. But they didn't have
all afternoon. He checked his watch and groaned, "Shit." Time was up.

While Brett recovered, Colton got up again and reluctantly pulled his
clothes back on. He folded the paper towels and shoved them in his
pocket.

"Why're you getting dressed, Colt?" Brett heaved with dismay.

"Leslie's gonna be home any minute," Colton.

He found Brett's undies, and pulled them onto the limp younger boy. As
the striped waistband swept up past Brett's cock, Colton smirked at the
tempting flesh. Still hard. Maybe that was the best thing about being
younger. You could keep going on and on and on.

Colton lay back down on the bed, and gave his younger friend a gentle
kiss.

"You haven't cum yet, Colt," Brett quietly pointed out.

Colton sighed. "Yeah, I'll have to take care of that at home."

"Or on the way home," Brett ribbed him, with a giggle.

Colton laughed. "Good thing Sage will be here this weekend," he
replied, inadvertently wounding Brett.

The younger barely hid his jealousy. "Your boyfriend isn't going to
mind you cheating on him?"

Colton looked at Brett sympathetically. "Dude, I really like you, and
this was fun. But I love Sage. We're in love with each other. Since he
lives out in Burbank, we can't see each other all the time. So we have
an agreement that when either of us goes on critical overload, we can
mess around with another boy."

Brett sighed. "So this doesn't mean anything?"

"Of course it does, dude," Colton assured him, then sat down on the
bed. While stroking the boy's long, brown hair back, soothingly, he
continued, "You and I are friends - really good friends, now. We can
mess around again, if you want. But my heart is Sage's property."

"Really??" Brett was ecstatic. He could live with that.

"Uh-huh," Colton replied, leaning in to give the boy another tender
kiss. "Still, we need to find you a special boy - or lots of boys."

Brett cracked up at the concept. "A harem?" Brett asked. "That'd be
the best, but I still want this." His hand slid up the loose hem of
Colton's shorts, found Colton's achingly throbbing member, and squeezed
it meaningfully. Colton squirmed, almost regretting getting dressed.

But just then, the boys heard the front door slam shut, and Leslie call
out, "I'm home!"

In a flash, Colton leapt over to the desk chair, while Brett pulled a
section of blanket over his tented white briefs.

A minute later, the older girl popped in. "Hey guys. I hope I didn't
keep you too long, Colt."

"No, you could've taken your time," Colton replied. "I like hangin'
out with this dude."

"Yeah, Les. And you know what?" Brett asked. "Colt says he can babysit
me after soccer practice for the rest of the week. You can go back to
work!"

Colton's head swiveled sharply, and the boy subtly winked at him.

"I dunno if our folks can pay you much," Leslie replied, looking up,
thoughtfully. And yet, there was no disguising the relief spreading
across her face. "But if you're available..."

Colton glared at the younger boy, though he wasn't really angry. He knew
it'd be an exciting, exhausting week.

============

To be continued...