Date: Sat, 30 Oct 2010 11:08:51 GMT From: "user459@netzero.net" Subject: Blind Brian "You what?!" I screamed, staring defiantly at my mother. "And you didn't even ask me!" "Now calm down, Mike," she said. "You weren't there to see the look on her face and to listen to what she has gone through." "But, Mom," I whined, "This is my summer vacation! What if I have other plans and things to do and places to go and stuff? Now it's all ruined." "No it's not. I just told Mrs. White you would help her with Brian few times a week, that's all. Besides, what are all these plans you have?" she asked. "Well, I, uh, might, uh," I stammered, trying to think of anything I had actually planned to do besides veg out and fart around. "Just as I thought," she said. "I would think you might have a little compassion and charity. It's not easy for a single mother to try to work to support her family and have the extra burden of having to raise a blind child, too. Besides, Brian is a great kid. He can't help it if he's blind, and he sure could use a male friend." "OK, Mom," I said. "It's just a little creepy, that's all. And you never even asked me before you volunteered me!" "It will be good for you and will get you out of the house once in a while," she commented. "I can't have you sitting around here all the time, stinking up the joint." "What? I don't smell!" I answered back as I raised my arm to check to see if my pits were bad. Actually, I hadn't showered yet today, even though it was close to 11:00 in the morning. I'd have to concede that point to her. It wasn't easy being almost fifteen: hormones kicking in; stinky pits and feet; hairs sprouting where you'd least expect them; pimples popping out; sudden and unexpected hard ons. "Well, if you don't want to do this for Mrs. White, then you'll have to get your butt out and find a real job for the summer," she proposed. "You do realize that she is willing to pay you for your time, don't you?" Now that put a different spin on the subject. I could use some money and it wouldn't be like digging ditches or anything. I would just have to hang around with a blind kid. I had met Brian a couple of times before. He was twelve or thirteen, I recalled, and was a good looking boy. His mother was a knockout. She was about thirty five and very well put together, I could never figure out why Brian's father wasn't around. But then, I had never really cared enough to ask. "All right, Mom," I acquiesced, "What do I have to do?" "Just show up at their house tomorrow at 8:00 am and Mrs. White will fill you in." She didn't leave me much room for negotiating. I had really only put up a token resistance. I had been wondering what I was going to do with my summer. Let's face it; I'm not the most popular guy in school and don't have a lot of friends. I have never really clicked with any of the guys and the girls kind of scare me. I usually just stay to myself, get my work done and get home as soon as I can. I don't know why, exactly, except that I'm kind of shy and not very athletic. I mean, I'm not a troll or anything. I'm 5' 6" and about 155 pounds. I'm not skinny and I have a fairly broad chest and some natural definition to my upper body. I'm basically hairless, except for my sparse red bush and armpits. My mother and my aunts have always told me I am good looking, but it just embarrasses me to hear that. I'm afraid I have a much lower opinion of my looks than they do. What was it going to matter anyway? I was going to be babysitting a blind guy, right? I went to my room after dinner that night and tried not to think about it. I logged onto my computer and made the rounds of my usual sites and checked all my email accounts. There was nothing earth shattering there, so I saved the best for last, as usual. I checked the Nifty Archive for any new posts. I liked to keep up with the newest stories and was particularly drawn to the Bisexual section. I was a total virgin and completely unsettled about my particular sexual orientation. I was intrigued by the descriptions of both the male and female anatomy as well as the details of their interactions. I knew I liked my own cock and the feelings I got when I played with it. After I jerked it to the point of no return, it didn't matter whether I was imagining sex with a boy or a girl. All that mattered was that I felt that marvelous feeling while I shot my meager load. Tonight I found a new story about some young friends who discovered each other and explored each other's bodies up in a tree house. The author described how the ten year old boys had finally allowed a neighborhood girl into their exclusive domain. It had just the right mix of hard cocks and moist pussy to put me over the edge. I stroked my 5 ½" cock while I read the description of the girl's slit between her legs and how the boys examined and probed it and sniffed and licked it. After she left, they sucked each other to a dry orgasm I came into a tissue and threw it into the toilet. I milked the last drop out and swiped it off the head with my finger and brought it to my tongue, as usual. I liked the taste of my own cum and the silky stickiness of it on my tongue. I took a leak and went to bed. As I lay there, I wondered how a blind kid found out about sex. He couldn't watch porn or read it on the internet. He couldn't even enjoy a Playboy magazine. Did they publish any porn in Braille? He couldn't gawk at a pair of nice hooters or look up a girl's skirt or even check out another dude's dick at the urinals. I started to feel sorry for Brian. I wondered if he jerked off. I fell asleep with a lot of questions on my mind. The next morning, Mom woke me up in time to shower, dress and walk the few blocks to the Whites' house. Mrs. White came to the door and let me in. She was getting ready to go to work and just had a robe on and her hair was still wet. I could see her bra under her robe and she looked great to me. I felt my rod starting to stir as I followed her into the kitchen. "Brian, Mike is here," she said. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. He stopped at the announcement of my arrival. "Hi, Mike," he said as he extended his hand in my direction. I grabbed his hand and shook it in greeting. "Hi, Brian," I said. "I guess we'll be spending some time together." His hand felt soft and warm and I got the feeling that he didn't want to let go. He looked a lot cuter than I had remembered and seemed to be more mature than when I last saw him. His hair was messy and his pajamas were wrinkled. Obviously, he just got up. "I'll leave a list of things to do," said Mrs. White. "Brian's pretty independent, but he will need help with some things during the day. Make sure you let Mike know when you need something, OK sweetie?" "Oh, Mom," Brian protested, "I'll be OK! I don't need a babysitter and I'm sure Mike has better things to do than hang out with a blind kid." I noted a taste of resentment in his voice. "Hey, I don't mind," I said, "I was looking for an excuse to get out of the house and I wanted to get to know you better anyway." "I'm going to have to get going soon, so help yourself to some cereal and juice if you want," she said as she headed back to her bedroom to finish getting ready for work. I found a bowl and a spoon and poured myself some cereal and milk and orange juice. We ate in silence with me stealing glances at Brian until I realized that I didn't have to glance at him; he couldn't catch me staring anyway! What a different world it must be for him, I thought. Mrs. White came back looking like a million bucks and gave me instructions on how to reach her and what to do and was out the door before I knew it. There was an odd silence when she left that I didn't know how to fill. "So, what would you like to do?" I asked. I got up and started clearing the dishes off the table. "I don't know," he answered. "What do you know about babysitting a blind kid?" he asked rather sarcastically. "Nothing," I admitted, "But I'm not really looking at this as a babysitting job, and I had hoped it would be a chance to get to know you better as a kid; not just a blind kid." "I'm sorry," he said, "I guess I was just feeling sorry for myself." "How about if we just get to know each other better," I proposed. So we began to talk about what we liked and disliked, what we thought of school and what music we liked and stuff like that. Before long we were joking and laughing. He reached over and put his hand on my arm as we talked. I didn't mind it; I realized that was his way of making "eye" contact with me. It made me realize that he had to relate to the world differently than I did. "Uh, Mike?" he stammered. "Can I ask you something weird?" "Sure." "I can't really see you, so can I touch you with my fingers?" he asked. I realized that he had no reference for how I looked. All he knew of me was my voice and where he had had his hand on my arm. He would have to rely on his other senses to figure me out. "That would be OK with me, what do you want me to do?" I asked. "Can you just sit here next to me?" I scooted my chair around next to him and lifted his hand and set it on my chest. He put his other hand on my shoulder and then moved it up my neck to my face. He had a light touch as he moved his fingers across my face. He touched my lips and nose and lightly ran his fingers over my eyebrows and eyelids. He felt my ears and my hair. His other hand felt my chest and danced over my nipples, making them instantly hard. Of course, the feelings in my nipples fired signals down to my groin and my pecker plumped up a notch. His hand slid over my stomach and my side and moved down until it hit the top of my shorts. He abruptly stopped there. "What color is your hair?" he asked. "It's red," I answered, "Well, more of a blondish red, I guess." He stood up and pulled on my arm to indicate that I should stand, too. He reached up to find the top of my head so he could tell how tall I was. I was about 4 inches taller than he was. When I looked down, I could see that the front of his pajamas was tented out a bit. He must have found this arousing, too. He grabbed my arms and lifted them up, indicating that he wanted me to hold them over my head. As I raised them, he slid his hands under my T shirt and felt up my sides until his hands were in my armpits. It tickled, but I let him feel the sparse hairs there. He pulled his hands back out and I saw him raise his fingers to his nose. "You have hair in your armpits," he stated, "and they smell nice, too. "I just showered before I came and used deodorant," I responded. "Do you have any hair there?" I asked as I reached under his pajama tops and felt his smooth armpits. "No, I don't have any yet, but I think there are a couple sprouting down there," he said and nodded toward his lower body. "Do you have hair down there, too?" "Yup. Not a lot, but it's starting to grow," I said. That's not all that was starting to grow. I was sprouting a hard on having this kid caress my body like he did. "Hmm," he pondered. I could tell he wanted to take this investigation further, as evidenced by the bulge in his PJ's. I had to find a way to chance the subject. I took the list off the table and read through it. "It says here that you are supposed to shower and get dressed," I said. "And then we're supposed to walk to the park." "Yeah, I know," he said, sounding rejected. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Mike, but I never have another guy around to ask these questions to. It's just my Mom and me and sometimes some girl sitters." "It's OK, Brian, you can ask all the questions you want," I said. "We've got a lot of time to spend together and I'm sure we'll get to all of them. For now, let's get started with this list your Mom left. Show me around a bit and we'll get you ready for your shower." "OK," he said, "Come on." He reached for my hand and led me through the house, explaining each room as we went along. I could have sworn he could see from his descriptions and his unfaltering pace. "I have it all memorized and I know how many steps there are between rooms." I guess he anticipated my thoughts about his expert guidance. When we got to his room, he stepped aside and let me enter. It was very neat, though it was devoid of the usual band posters and such. He came in and walked directly to his dresser and pulled out clean underwear, shorts, and a T shirt. He laid them out neatly on the bed. "Do these match?" he asked. "Yes, they do," I said. "How do you know?" "I know from where they are in the drawers," he explained. "Mom tells me where the colors are and I remember it." "Cool!" I responded. Just another thing we sighted people take for granted. I was coming to respect him for his talents and for the amount of effort it took for him to do most mundane tasks. He pulled his pajama top over his head and I could see that he was hairless and smooth. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his PJ bottoms and pushed them down and off. He balled up the tops and bottoms and threw them into an open hamper in the corner. Swish, no net. "You're amazing!" I commented. "That was a perfect shot!" He stood there stark naked with a very proud look on his face. I got to take a good long look at his body and I liked what I saw. He was smooth and had creamy white skin. His little package was starting to darken a little bit and his circumcised penis hung nicely over his wrinkled scrotum. It wasn't as hard as it had been earlier, but wasn't all the way soft yet, either. He made no move to cover himself up. "Can you see any hairs down there yet?" he asked. He took a step closer to me as if inviting me to inspect his crotch. Oh, what the hell, I thought. He seemed intent on me getting acquainted with his privates. "OK, I'll check it out for you," I said. "Why don't you jump up on the bed so I can see you up close?" He got on the bed and laid back for my inspection. He spread his legs and I noticed his dick plumping up again. I put one hand on his stomach to let him know I was there and then proceeded to investigate his crotch. I pushed his dick this way and that and looked for pubic hairs. Then I felt all around his balls until he was hard as a rock and starting to moan and twitch. I moved my other hand up to his nipples and tweaked them. "Oh, Mike!" he gushed. "Sorry, did I hurt you? Want me to stop?" I asked. "No! Don't stop!" he commanded. He grabbed my hand and put it directly on his penis. I took it in my hand and began to slowly move my hand up and down the shaft. "Oh, shit, Mike, that feels so good!" "Did your other sitters do this for you?" I asked. "Nobody ever touched me before," he said as he thrust his crotch up to meet my stroking fist. "I tried it myself, but it never felt this good." I kept up the pace until he was breathing heavy and a tiny drop of wetness appeared on the end of his dick. "Do you want me to make you cum?" I asked. "Yeah, whatever it is, I want it to happen!" he said. "OK, just hang on and let it go," I said. I sped up my action on his dick and played my fingers over his balls until he was bucking his hips off the bed, "Oh, man!" he cried, "Something's happening!" He pushed up and arched his back and quivered and shook. A few more drops of shiny liquid appeared and ran down on my fingers. He was frozen and holding his breath. Suddenly he fell back onto the mattress and let out a long sigh. He was still and I thought he passed out. "Brian, are you all right?" I asked. "Don't forget to breathe." He took a deep breathe and his eyelids fluttered and opened. He had pretty blue eyes, though they had a certain dullness to them and, of course, they didn't focus on anything. "I'm OK," he managed to say as he gained more composure. "What was that? Was that an orgasm? I read about them in my books, but I never had one before. Did something come out of my penis?" "Slow down, buddy," I said as I patted his tummy to reassure him. "Yes, you had an orgasm. We usually say that you `came'. And yes, something came out of your penis. It was semen, or `cum' and it came out of your dick or cock or pecker, whatever you'd like to call it." "What is it like?" he asked, "Was there a lot of `cum'?" "Not a lot, but enough for a boy your age," I responded. I looked down and saw I still had some on my fingers. "Here, there is still some on my fingers." I raised my hand to his face and put it under his nose. He sniffed and then touched it with his fingers. He felt the slippery goo between his fingers and smiled. "What does it taste like?" he asked. "Well, I've only tasted my own and it's not too bad," I said. With that I touched his lips with my fingers and he stuck out his tongue. I deposited what was on my fingers there and he rolled it around in his mouth. "Hmmm. Not bad; a little salty and slimy, but I like it!" he decided. He grabbed my hand and licked it clean. I reached down and milked one more drop out of his dick and swiped it off with my finger. I raised it to my tongue and tasted it. Brian seemed to know what I was doing and waited for my reaction. "Yum!" I declared. "A little sweeter than mine and every bit as delicious." My comment got a smile out of him and be seemed very proud of his accomplishment. He reached out to hold my hand. "Mike, thanks for doing that for me," he said. "I hope I didn't embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable. I've been wondering about that kind of stuff and I couldn't ask my mother about it." "I'm fine with it," I said, "But it's probably best that you don't say anything to anyone about it. They probably wouldn't understand and might think that I was forcing you to do something you didn't want to do." He thought about that for a minute. "I won't tell anybody," he said. "I just hope you don't hate me for it and that you'll show me other stuff I have questions about." "Well, don't worry about that," I reassured him, "I certainly don't hate you and I'll try to answer any questions you might have." I patted his tummy and saw that his dick was starting to rise again. "I think that now would be a good time for you to get into the shower. Can you do that by yourself?" "Certainly!" he said. "I'll get cleaned up and dressed and meet you downstairs. You can watch TV or something." He got off the bed and headed into the bathroom. I went back downstairs and looked for another bathroom. I had something I needed to take care of. My hard dick was straining at my zipper and yearned to be free. I found the bathroom and let it out and wrapped my fingers around the hard shaft. My hand flew over it until I pumped out a big load into the bathroom sink. Oh, the relief! I sniffed and tasted the remnants on my fingers and then rinsed the sink clean and sat on the toilet until I could pee and flush the rest of the cum out of my dick. I washed my hands and went out to the family room. This was going to be a unique and interesting summer!