Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. Any similarity between this story and anything resembling real people, places or things is merely a coincidence. This story contains consenting sexual activities between teenage boys. If you are not 18 years old or if it is illegal where you live to read material of this kind, stop right now.
To those qualified to read on, this is chapter three of twelve. If you haven't read the previous chapters, you may want to go back and read (or fast forward through) to understand. I only mention this obvious fact because I'm really bad at doing recaps.
"Okay, let's try it again, but this time slow down with the drum tempo," said Dale. After arriving back at the shed from their game of dare at the cabin, the boys picked up where they had left off and played for the rest of the afternoon. Taking short breaks here and there, it wasn't until 4:30 when they stopped playing for the day. Ms. Holister had arrived home, and although she was a "cool mom" by the boys standards, any adult tend to put a damper on the thrill of swearing, being overly loud, and looking at porn. If it were later in the day, after supper time, Mr. Holister would sometimes drive Jeremy and Kevin back into town with his pickup truck. As it was, Jeremy and Kevin said their good-byes to Dale and mounted their bikes for the hot three mile return into town. Their instruments were safely locked away in a cabinet in the shed.
The ride back into town was up and over several large hills. The boys' dirt bikes were not made for long uphill climbs, so at times they got off and pushed.
"So is this what we’re going to do all summer?" asked Kevin, pushing his bike up the final hill before town.
"What do you mean?"
"Ride out here everyday, play for hours, and ride all the way back into town."
Jeremy looked at his friend quizzically. "I don't know, I guess so. I mean, we could do other stuff sometimes. Maybe like go the Community Pool, or ride through the clay mines, or hang out at your house or something. Why? Don't you want to practice at Dale's?"
"Yeah, but sometimes I wonder what we're practicing for, ya know."
To Jeremy the answer was always obvious. Why does anyone do anything? Jeremy played because it was his love. Mr. Nun, their music and band instructor, never really discussed with them where this would all lead. They were small town boys, and Jeremy knew that in the end there wasn't much of any chance of becoming a real rock band, being heard jamming on the radio. To think that way would only lead to disappointment, and he didn't want to set himself up for that. As he walked he felt Kevin's pace slowing and then coming to a stop.
"You don't think I'm gay daring you to blow me, do you?"
Jeremy shook his thoughts from his head and tried to regroup along Kevin's line of new questions. He quickly replied, "no."
"Do you think Dale does?"
Kevin paused before slowly resuming his walk. A car zoomed past on the country road. "I was just thinking about what I said, and I hope you guys don't think I'm queer or something."
"Since when do you give a shit what others think of you?"
"I don't give a shit. But with you guys, for some reason it's different."
Jeremy smiled, "Aw, that's like totally sweet of you."
Kevin tensed up. "Jerr, I'll fuckin' beat the shit out of you, dude, like totally. I'm being serious."
They walked in silence, approaching the crest of the hill where they would coast the rest of the way into town. "I agree with you, Kev. About what you said. About it just being us guys. Ya know, no girls around. We're best buds."
Kevin didn't reply. They stopped at the top of the hill, looking down the slope that was beginning to be lined with houses at the start of the town of Dillon, an old coal town that had never seen an exciting day in its existence but was the home of about three thousand families, scattered about a small central downtown.
"I hope you don't think I'm gay, now," said Jeremy.
Kevin smiled with just the corner of his mouth. "No, we're best buds." He slid his backpack off his shoulder. "You want to take my girl out for a spin?" He held it out towards his friend who quietly took it. "Call me tomorrow morning. We'll ride out together again."
The boys rode down the hill into town, enjoying the last breeze of the day rip through their shirts. They flew past the Mom and Pop Grocery Store that was never very busy and parted ways down their respective streets towards home.
Jeremy arrived at his small yet modest home with manicured shrubs lining the front yard and a garden of whatever flowers beneath the bay window. He had no interest in flowers; they were his mothers favorite past time. He only knew he had to weed the damn thing every other week. There were no cars in the driveway which meant neither of his parents was home from work yet. But as he pushed his bike into the shed he could here the stereo blasting from the upstairs window of his sister's bedroom.
After going in through the backdoor, Jeremy paused in the kitchen to look for an afternoon snack. There was never much junk food in the house, except for maybe after a holiday. But even then, most of the marshmallow peeps and reindeer cookies would have hardened to resemble door stops. It was mostly fruits, apples, oranges, or bananas, and today’s selection was a bunch of sweet grapes. He shoved two into his mouth at a time, squishing them with his tongue on the roof of his mouth.
He continued his path through the house and up the stairs, the music growing louder with each step. If his parents were home, the music would of coarse been turned down, but never off. If it wasn't Sherri listening to Duran Duran, then it was Jeremy on his keyboard singing songs from the radio. Jeremy didn't mind his older sister, but she did tend to control the house when the parents were away. Being two years older, for some reason, gave her automatic dibs on whatever activity was going on when it was only the two of them.
"Jerry!" she squealed in a higher than normal voice as she saw her younger brother at the top of the stairs. She ran out of her room and playfully threw her arm around his neck, pulling his face into her overly large breasts for a sixteen year old. "Come dance with me!" She pulled him by the hand into her bright pink room full of posters from Tiger Beat and Dog Fancy. He dropped the backpack and plodded along after her, faking a disinterest, but not minding the over the top attention he was getting from his sister. Jeremy never minded the beats and rhythm of Duran Duran, the other fab five from England, but the lyrics made absolutely no sense to him. And dancing to the song, "New Moon on Monday" as his sister held his hands on her hips was confusing on so many levels. She then put her hands on his neck and pulled him around in exaggerated moments. When the song ended, she squeezed his face together forcing his lips out like a fish. "You are so cuuuuute!"
She released him and he took a few steps back, pulling his hands away feeling for some unknown reason slightly odd. "Do you really think so?"
Sherri had walked over to her dual cassette player and pressed stop on both sides of her recording. "Jeremy, you are my dorky brother. You will always be my dorky brother. Don't ask girls to ever explain a complement."
"Now get out, you stink!" She shoved him in the chest, forcing him to backup just enough for her to slam the door in his face.
"Weirdo," he whispered to himself as he picked up his bag and turned away from the bedroom door. He didn't stop in his own room which was straight across the hall, but continued down to the bathroom. He took a piss in the toilet, trying to catch the side of the bowl with no water because he hated sounding like a horse regardless who may be listening. After a quick shake he turned to face the mirror. The words of his sister ran through his mind again, for what reason he did not know. It wasn't the first time she or some other family member had told him he was cute. He always passed it off as a simple term of endearment. But as he stared at his face he began to question it.
The reflection looked odd to him. There weren’t many boys with black hair and light blue eyes in his class, or the school for that matter. For that he always felt different, but in a special way. He leaned in so close to the mirror he could see the pores in his nose. He said a small prayer for not having acne, but knew it would eventually arrive. He hoped the acne gods would be kind. He pulled back and ran a hand through his thick hair which neatly fell back into place. He drew in a deep breath which puffed out his chest, and his thoughts began to wander to the dance he performed on the picnic table that afternoon. He ran his hand across his chest, his middle finger stopping on his left nipple. It felt like a pebble beneath his shirt. Watching himself in the mirror he lifted his shirt and again began to lightly press on his nipple. Lost in the daydream of the dance he began to rub and gently pull on it, watching his own eyes in the mirror, a strange unique boy staring back at him. In the privacy of the bathroom, his sexual thoughts of girls reaching for his half naked body as he gyrated on his knees didn't need to be controlled. He brought them to the front of his mind. He continued the gently rub his peck, moistening his lips, until he felt his dick press against the cold sink.
His half erection had pushed out against the sink, awakening him from his daydream. He dropped his shirt and picked up the backpack. He exited the bathroom without looking back into the mirror.
Dale sat at the kitchen table with his parents, eating a dinner of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn. He mixed his corn into his potatoes, a tasty variation that always made his dad groan due to what he called improper table etiquette. His mother, always the high spirits, would rarely correct him, but simply take it up with her husband at a later time. She wasn't too observant when it came to any sneaky behavior that her son had committed. Dale was never sure whether she totally missed it or just kept quiet until those hushed conversation times behind closed bedroom doors. But then, Dale really didn't want to know what was going on behind those doors.
Ms. Holister was going on and on about the pigs, Pilly and Paulie, about how they had become too fat and would soon not be able to walk. Anytime she would say, "Pilly", Dale would quietly whisper back, "Billy," because Pilly, according to him, was a stupid name. His dad would then correct him and they would have playful banter back and forth.
"Did you boys walk back to the cabin today?" asked Ms. Holister.
"Yeah, it's still standing. Everything looks like it's where it's suppose to be."
"Does the grass need cut?" asked his father.
Dale winced at this question which really wasn't a question. His father knew how fast grass the grass grew without having to ask. It was merely a lead in question to his request for his son to mow the lawn. But he tried to postpone the inevitable anyway. "It didn't look that bad."
"You boys are camping out down there on Saturday," said his mother. "It should look nice. Did you take the bug spray back?"
"Mom, the guys don't care how the grass looks."
"Don't give your mother lip, now. She wants it to look nice." Dale glanced at his dad. He could see in his eyes he wasn't serious, but if she wanted it to have it mowed, the men would mow it. “We’ll mow it Saturday morning after we do the barn. Did you take the bug spray and broom?”
“Yes.” Dale pushed his potatoes around his plate. He felt his father’s eyes on the side of his face. “I’ll sweep it out, don’t worry.”
“How was the music today?” his mother asked.
“Pretty good. We’re getting a lot better, and with all the time we can spend practicing this summer, we’ll be awesome.”
“Good enough to play in the Labor Day festival?”
“I don’t know about that. Playing in front of the whole town is…. Well, it’s not something I want to think about right now.”
“Why not?” continued his mother. “Mr. Nun would be proud. He’ll be back in time to get you boys ready.”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Why maybe?” asked his father.
“Well, if I say yes, you’ll both expect me to do it, and I don’t want to commit to something like that right now.”
Mr. Holister nodded his head. “Yeah, I can understand that. Let me tell you what. You want to do a show, fine. If you don’t, that’s fine too. Be kids. You guys just have fun this summer and whatever happens, happens.”
Dale felt a small weight lift from his shoulders and he smiled, “Thanks.”
Kevin had the house to himself as his parents had gone out with a few friends, which was fine with him. His parents went out with friends often, or at least that was what they said they were doing. Going out with friends usually meant a trip to one of the many local bars until well into the night, one or both of them coming home drunk, and then a guaranteed argument in the morning as they bitched at each other about going to work with hangovers. Kevin never thought his parents drank too much, just too often. But they were the folks who liked to have a good time. In the past, Kevin would either have a sitter or say at his grandparents’ house at least once a week. Now, with Kevin being older and responsible enough to stay home alone, night outs were often three times a week and every Friday. Kevin didn’t mind his parents going out and leaving him alone. It gave him some time to have the house to himself, some private time.
Kevin was in his bedroom, where he spent most of the time. One side of his room was set with his bed and dresser with a large mirror. The other side was a drum set, not nearly as classy as the set at Dale’s. These were almost four years old, purchased before he had become serious about playing and started taking lessons from Mr. Nun. But unfortunately, it was too late at night for him to play. His parents and his next door neighbors had come to an agreement long ago that he was forbidden to play his drums after 9PM. It always seems that sound travels better at night, and annoys a lot more people. To over come this, Kevin’s father had purchased pads for each of the drums.
The stereo was playing Aerosmith as Kevin drummed along, imagining himself on stage with lights and screaming fans. It was his rush and his fantasy. He would love to become the next great band, to live out his massive concert fantasies for real. He knew it was what he wanted, but wasn’t sure if his friends shared the same desire. They all loved to play, he wouldn’t doubt that. But when he questioned Jeremy on the hill today, Kevin was hoping for something more. He wanted fame; he wanted to be the best.
The last song on the tape finished and Kevin stood up to take his bows. He went over to stand in front of his dresser with a large circular mirror perched above it. He faked a crowd noise with his hands cupped over his mouth. The then pumped his hands in the air with his drumsticks. He held his arms up as he checked himself out in the mirror, his upper arms, the faint blond arm hairs, and the muscles of his bare chest. He admired the body of the boy in the mirror, standing in just his white underwear.
The tape had come to an end and automatically started to play side one again. As the music began, Kevin started to rhythmically bob his head. His mind flashed back to the lap dance he had given Dale that afternoon and the dance Jeremy had performed on the table. He turned sideways in the mirror and repeated his dance he had done for Dale, this time being able to see his own hips gyrate as Jeremy had witnessed. Kevin started to rub his abs and thighs as he danced harder to the music. Kevin was proud of his body and knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be with a girl. It was too bad Dale wasn’t a girl, because any girl who watched his dance wouldn’t be able to control herself and would be all over him. Besides, it was well known that drummers got lots of pussy.
Kevin pulled his underwear down exposing his smooth white butt cheeks. He watched his naked ass waving at him in the mirror, continuing his thoughts on how it would drive the girls crazy. The front of his underwear started to pitch out as his dick grew into an erection. He grabbed his dick through his underwear with both hands, keeping his ass exposed. He turned to face the mirror, placing his thumbs in his underwear, slowing pulling them down. His blonde pubes and then the start of his hard penis could be seen in the mirror. He pulled his underwear down further until his erection popped out, slapping him back the pelvis and then bouncing straight out in front of him.
Kevin had jerked off quite often in front of the mirror. It was actually one of his favorite places to do it. His underwear dropped to his feet completing his nakedness. He put his hands behind his head, turning to gaze at his naked body from different angles in the mirror. He cupped his hairless balls in one hand and wrapped his fingers around this dick with the other. He brought his up his dick so he was looking straight down at the pee slit. He let some spit dangle from his lips until falling onto the crevices of his hand and dick, a perfect shot which took some practice. With is saliva as lube, he quickly ran his hand up and down his five and a half inch dick. Again he turned sideways, gyrated his hips as if this time giving a naked lap dance.
“I’ll grind my dick on you, Dale,” said Kevin with a snicker, recalling the look on Dale’s face during the dance. Kevin, of course, had no intention of rubbing one off on Dale that afternoon. However, he could distinctly recall the feel of Dale’s erection on his butt at the end of the dance. He continued to masturbate in the mirror. He turned to look over his shoulder at the reflection of his tight butt. He let go of his balls and started to slide his hand over each cheek where he felt the hard penis earlier that day.
He felt a little weird thinking of the lump in Dale’s pants, but at the moment it actually felt cool, in a naughty forbidden sort of way. Would he give Dale a naked lap dance? Would he trade blow jobs with his friends? Does that mean he was gay? Kevin didn’t believe so. He loved to jerk off; there was nothing gay about it. It felt good, well, it actually felt awesome. It was the feeling he was after, not some fucking queer relationship. If his friends could share that feeling with him, that would be all the better. He knew he was ready, mature enough at his fourteen years.
Speaking of ready, he grew closer to cumming, the feeling crossing his belly and his inner thighs. He lay down on his side on his bed, still viewable in the mirror. He pulled his knee up to his shoulder, reaching one hand around the back of his leg to play with his balls and that little area just above his now visible asshole. He spit one more time into his hand to finish himself off. He threw his head back as he shot his young sperm onto his chest, reaching up to between his nipples. He lowered his leg as his body relaxed. He brought his hand up to his chest and started to dab a finger into the white globs on his chest. Yes, jerking off was way cool.
Jeremy laid on his side with his back to the bedroom door. The small light attached to his headboard softly lit the magazine lying on the bed. Jeremy had one hand supporting his head while the other was buried in his underwear wrapped around his throbbing cock. He would slide his hand up and down his prick, playing with the head and piss slit, then side his palm down the six inch length to fondle his cool hairless ball lying against his leg. His thumb would rustle through his soft black pubes.
He had the magazine open to the photos of the lesbians, looking at the lips of the girls’ vaginas, imagining sliding his dick into their depths to feel the warmth of their bodies. He would lean back so he could watch his member sliding in, watching each inch vanishing. He looked at the photo of one girls tongue coming close to licking the clit of the other woman. Putting his own mouth on a girl’s pussy wasn’t the first thing he’d like to do, but he could only imagine how cool it must feel for the girl. If she wanted it, if he was in love, he would definitely perform the act for her.
He released his dick long enough to turn the page. The next photo shoot was the muscular man and the long haired girl. He looked at the picture of the girl with her mouth just above the man’s huge cock. He turned the page only to see an ad for vodka marking the end of the photo shoot. He cursed under his breath at the lack of any oral penetration. As he looked back at the photo, he formed a ring with his finger and thumb, pressing it over his penis to simulate a set of lips, the girl’s lips, sliding down his shaft. He was certain his attempt at imitating the feeling fell far short of the truth.
His mind went back to the final dare that Kevin had given him. He couldn’t shake the thought that Kevin may actually have been serious, especially after the talk they had on the hill. Jeremy wasn’t gay; at least he didn’t think he was. He enjoyed jacking off almost daily. But when he masturbated, he was playing with his own dick. He liked playing with his own dick, the feelings that it created in the rest of his body. But wasn’t playing with a dick gay? He knew Kevin and Dale did it. They talked about it. But no one admitted as to how much they do it. Did he do it too much? Jeremy had no desire to take a dude to the next Homecoming Dance, and all of his fantasies were of burying his meat into some high school girl’s orifice.
He wasn’t gay, and he didn’t think Kevin or Dale were either. Eventually he would date a girl and hopefully she would go down on him. But, like Kevin said, it’s just us guys. And guys may even be better at it because they knew where the sensitive spots were. Would he trade blow jobs with Kevin? It sounded so gross, but maybe if it was a secret, one that was taken to the grave. But no, the thought was there but it was just too weird.
He tipped the light and lifted his sheet to shine light on his dick. Would he suck his own dick? Without hesitation he knew he would. It would be his own secret. He felt confusion. It would feel good. He jerked off not because he liked his dick, but because it felt good. It would be the same thing, just sharing it with friends.
He grabbed his dick in the light and began to rub it with more vigor. His thoughts of the long haired girl in the photo were replaced by the strawberry blonde head of his friend Kevin, his lips forming a ring around his cock. Yeah, it would be cool. So cool. He continued to jerk his dick, watching the piss hole until the very end. A jet of watery white gel shot from the head of his dick to land on his stomach. He continued jerking himself until the last of his semen oozed out of the piss slit and ran over this thumb.
He suddenly thought, “Maybe I’ll just wait until I get a girl friend.”
There was a knock on Dale’s bedroom door before it was swung open. Dale had no time to react except to look up across his bed and smile at his father. His father began to talk but paused, seemingly surprised to find his son kneeling on the other side of the bed, face slightly reddened. He stuttered his words before finally getting at least one out. “Hey.”
Dale stared back at his father standing in the door way, his heart pounding. He folded his hands on the mattress in front of him. “Hey.”
“Um,” his father started again. “I completely forgot what I was about to say.”
Dale thought to himself, “Then why are you still standing there?” but he said nothing.
“Don’t get old. You forget things more and more,” said his father looking at the floor.
“Well, maybe I’ll remember in the morning.” He stood in the doorway, his eyes panning the room as if looking for something on the walls that may jar his memory or give him something else to say. He gave a final goodnight smile to his son. “Ok, well, don’t stay up to late.” He closed the door.
Dale hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath the entire time his father had surprised him in the doorway. It was past the time his parents were usually in bed, and he had no idea why his father would be up walking around.
Dale was kneeling on the opposite side of the bed from the door. His father could only see him from his face down to his naked waist, the small reading lamp casting a warm glow over his body. He looked down at his erect penis which was still inserted in between the mattresses with some tissues tucked in to catch his yet to arrive orgasm.
His fantasy of banging Ms. Bustin with the huge tits shattered, he crawled naked into bed. He reached up to click off his reading light which was on because he enjoyed watching his dick sliding in and out, disappearing into the depths of the pussy. Before he clicked the light off, he felt a sudden punch of realization hit his stomach. Behind where he was kneeling, was his dresser which held a large mirror, directly viewable from the door.
***End of Chapter 3***
The next chapter will be posted soon and I hope you have enjoyed the story so far.
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