Date: Mon, 21 Nov 2005 17:00:27 -0800 (PST) From: "New Stories (Dennis B.)" Subject: The Boy Who Was Late for School - Chapter 2 The Boy Who Was Late for School - Chapter 2 by Dennis Banneker StoriesNew@Yahoo.com Check with your local and regional laws before reading this story which depicts homosexual sex acts. You must be of legal age and not be offended by this type of content. ________________________________________ NOTE OF THANKS To all who wrote in, thank you for your emails. It was the good number of emails that made me write a second chapter so soon. Please don't be shy to write to me--I'm just a guy like you. And if you already wrote, I'll be happy to hear from you again. Thank you so much. --Dennis :-) ________________________________________ OTHER STORIES You can find a list of my other stories with a brief description of each at the end of *this* chapter. As of November 21, 2005, this is the latest list. Ages of the characters are included to help give you more info. ________________________________________ The Boy Who Was Late for School by Dennis Banneker StoriesNew@Yahoo.com Cole Anders, 13 Matthew Thornton, 24 When I looked up and saw his little grin, my desire flared. Cole stood, his eyes glued to mine. Seconds later, our eyes strayed momentarily to each other's bulged clothing. I put my arms out, inviting him for a hug. "Oh, yes!" he said, flinging his arms around me. ________________________________________ CHAPTER 2 Cole astounded me. His hands squeezed into my back and remained fixed. Pressed against me, he excited me with his warm body--ribs and erection touching unassumingly, their diminutive size reminding me of his youthful beauty and vulnerability. The scent of his hair reached me as his nose found the patch of bare skin at my open collar, his touch electric. "This feels so good," he said in the voice of a starving man. The higher pitch of his speech did not detract from the maturity of his sentiment. I found it stimulating--the tone of innocence and purity unmistakable. Neither of us made a sensual movement. It was something else Cole was drinking in--I felt its goodness, but its identity escaped me. The feel of a man's approval, perhaps? Maybe fatherly love? That was possible. I hoped companionship and comfort were somewhere in his thoughts--I had those to give him in abundance besides unfaltering approval and protective care. But he made no attempt to pleasure himself--an admirable feat considering the stiffness of his boyhood. Despite my erection poking into him, I, too, felt something beyond sexual stimulation. I loved him. It was not difficult to admit that. Though logic screamed at the thought, I had not invited logic to the table. No. Logic would not mock the beauty of this tender human exchange--the boy's need fulfilled from my supply of whatever it was Cole absorbed as we stood hugging--with me on the verge of tears at the utter power of this moment, and Cole standing firm, squeezing me desperately--his little breaths testament to the potency of his emotion. "Incredibly good," I whispered, not to intrude on him. Sensuality could wait forever while the spell of this interchange endured. After a long while, he spoke again. "I feel your strength, Matt." He rested his head on my chest. Although he spoke of my strength, my grip on him lacked the vigor of his. It was hard to believe that Cole would be only 14 in a few months. His demeanor and intelligence were beyond those years. "I feel yours," I said simply. This did not motivate him to disengage from me. "You think I'm strong?" he asked, his tone meek, soft, unmistakably child-like. "I know what I feel," I said, separating from him, "and it comes from here." I tapped his chest. "Oh," he said, surprised, baffled perhaps. "Oh, yes," I said, tapping again. "You have a man in there-- a good one. And he's strong." I bit my tongue with the temptation to add that I would help bring that man out of him. I ached to do that. But who could know what would transpire beyond this day? I had my hopes, but I dared not falsely arouse his. "I think I feel him. I never felt that before." "That's wonderful, Cole." I hugged him again, squeezing him harder than before--not that any more hugging was needed, but to hide my tears. Had I encouraged him--given him hope? Had my simple words made Cole realize some great truth about himself? "You're crying," he said, thwarting my subterfuge--a consequence I welcomed. "Yes." But now, I felt compelled to explain, and fear crept in. What was I to say? I could hardly understand it myself. And how would I elucidate this phenomenon without raising false hope in the boy? He surprised me with his patience--the silence giving me precious time. "Why?" he said, just as I thought I had the right words. "You're a very special person, Cole. I'm so glad we met." And I was thanking heaven for that reply. "I . . . I was thinking . . . the same about you." It sounded as if he had more to say. I gave him time, but the lad simply relaxed against me. "Time will tell, Cole." When we separated, he was flushed. I looked for signs of tears but found none. Embarrassment was the only possibility that came to mind. We stared at each other for some time. "Um," he said finally. "What is it?" "I really . . . need to pee." And he charmed me with his boyish modesty, his face full of unfeigned displeasure from mouthing the words. "Oh, is that all?" I said in a comforting voice, as I pulled him to me quickly--our chests touching momentarily. I explained the location of the bathroom, and Cole listened patiently. His expression, however, puzzled me. "Is it okay? I mean . . . I don't wanna be alone. Can you go with me?" "Of course," I said. His gentleness and sheer innocence took me to the verge of tears, once again. But I was baffled. His fear of the unknown-- of this day, I supposed--could justify his request. Under other circumstances, it would be absurd for a teenaged boy to want an adult to accompany him to the bathroom. Walking to the toilet with him, I began to see a problem. I dismissed the thought, assuming Cole would have me wait outside the door. But the danger of assuming soon manifested. "No--come in with me," he said pleadingly. I had no power of resistance. Had he asked me to put my foot into the toilet, I may have agreed--so desperate was I to accommodate him, to be of some earthly good to the boy. There was nothing I could say. I stood uncomfortably, watching him stand, holding his erection delicately. It did not seem that he was succeeding at the toilet. In a few moments, I was beyond discomfort, feeling quite the intruder. My altered breathing must have attracted his attention. Again his eyes pierced me, not unpleasantly. Blushing, I opened a magazine on the counter and pretended to read. With my eyes no longer directed at him, I hoped to ease his situation. "No, you can look. I want you to," he said. The idea of this was more than curious, but my thoughts were cut short. "Actually, I think I need to join you," I said, fiercely embarrassed, the urge to urinate coming suddenly upon me. "That's okay," Cole said with a wide grin. Biology overshadowed any intent I had to analyze his amicable response. New there were two stubborn erections that refused to cooperate in the simple process of elimination. And, sensual or not, we both inspected each other's manly treasures, however briefly--apparently with no uneasiness, as neither of us blushed or seemed troubled. Cole's indescribable grin at that moment pierced me, causing a thud in my chest. I was fascinated with his endowment, irrespective of size, but the fruitlessness of our efforts predominated my thoughts. It seemed an insoluble problem. "I can't--" he said very quietly. "I know. I can't either. Tell you what--this will sound odd, but get into the tub and take a warm shower. The heat will help you go, and it will all wash down the drain." "Are you sure?" he said, his eyes conveying welcome relief. "Yes. I'm going to the other bathroom and do the same." My words still echoed off the tiles as Cole began to undress. I hoped he would be all right, alone in the shower. Before he was naked, I asked if this arrangement suited him. I was grateful that it did. At least, he had me convinced. "I'll bring you a robe as soon as I can," I said, dashing off. "Thanks, Matt," I heard as I was halfway down the hall. A polite boy, I thought, in addition to everything else. Before long, we were seated in our robes at the kitchen table. I served him hot cocoa while I made coffee for myself. "Well, how are you?" I said, looking at him expectantly. "That was funny," he said, on the verge of laughter, his hand at his mouth. "What was funny?" "We both couldn't pee," he said, giggling. "Oh. That happens. Especially when you have an erection. Did it bother you that I saw--" "No. You care about me. You even read that magazine so I would feel better." "Yes, right," I said, mumbling, in awe of him again. "I don't care what you see," he said, standing, opening his robe to reveal his boyhood hardness, as if to demonstrate his sincerity. "I mean--I do care, but it's okay." I suppose he couldn't help blushing, but his act of assertion was more important to me. And I meant to reinforce the assertiveness that was decidedly linked to manhood. "Thank you," I said approvingly, hoping I'd conveyed the lesson of acceptable assertiveness. "That was quite a compliment." Grateful for the brevity of the opportunity to regard his anatomy in some lewd vein, I breathed a sigh of relief. This, despite my shameful yearnings. I wondered if that was the same erection or a new one as he closed his robe and sat down. I deliberated whether he'd had the urge to touch me when we stood at the toilet, and marveled that I'd resisted touching him. Then, I felt grateful for the logical side of me that warred successfully against my less admirable impulses. "No one's made me feel as good as you," he said calmly, looking me right in the eye. My chest throbbed from the admiration of this pristine young man. As his simple statement clicked in, my admiration for the boy swelled. "Cole--is it that things are very difficult at home?" "No, not really," he said, squirming uncomfortably. Not wanting to cause Cole unnecessary discomfort, I decided to drop the subject for the moment. It was still morning, but as I glanced at the clock, my mind drifted to Cole's home, and the problem he would have, telling his mother about his absence from school. I began to consider this and came up with all kinds of unpleasant thoughts. "I'm very concerned about your mother. What will she do when she finds out you missed school without informing them about it? "Oh--I called them and said I wasn't feeling good and my mom was already at work." Here I was worried sick! Why hadn't he mentioned that before? "You might have told me. I was worried." "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes reaching out to me as if to emphasize his regret. "You may want to tell you mother you spent the day with a friend." "No. You could get in trouble," he said fearfully. "She might make me tell who it was. I can't do that." "You really are amazing, aren't you," I said, sitting, pulling him to me, my eyes on a plane below his. From his face, I could tell he didn't understand. As he stared into me, emotion prevailed as I pressed forward and very gently kissed him on the lips. I pulled away instantly, my heart beating harder than ever before. "Cole, I'm sor--" "That was so good," he said wistfully. "It was?" I feared for my life, my chest still pounding insistently. "Yeah," he said calmly. "My dad used to kiss me like that. I loved it. Sorta got the same feeling when you did it." "Oh," I said, catching my breath, thinking I might survive this moment, after all. "That's very good to know, Cole." "But I didn't get horny when *he* did it." "I see," I uttered, blushing profusely. "That's weird, huh?" "Not really, Cole. We both like guys, and I'm not really your father, so it's not terribly surprising, is it?" "No--I guess not." It seemed he had more to say, but that was not forthcoming. "Is that . . . is kissing something I should avoid?" "No," he said emphatically. "Please don't . . . avoid it." "All right," I said, giving him a warm smile. "I--I didn't mean to yell. I'm sorry." "Don't be. You're a man. Men raise their voices sometimes. Just--make sure it's worth your effort when you do. And I think it was worth it, this time." I had a feeling I had overdone it with the fatherly wisdom. "Really?" he said in that sweet, soft tone of his. "Really, really," I said, feeling whimsical suddenly, reaching my arms for him. I soon had a squirming lapful of boy. "You're still horny!" he said with captivating youthful excitement, without a trace of indecency. I suppose for Cole it was simply another thing he liked. "Yes, I like you that way, you know." "I know," he said with a giggle, his crooked grin more enchanting that ever. "I like you that way, too." "Yes, well--we agree, then," I said, thinking we were about to cross a line. "Will you teach me about sex?" he said earnestly as I took in a mouthful of coffee. I don't know how I managed not to spit it out. "Teach you--about sex?" This had me trembling. "Yeah. You can do that--right?" I took a deep breath, fighting the temptation to tell him he could safely wager his future earnings I was capable of that--not to mention eager. "Yes, I can," I said calmly, "But," I added quickly, "I'm not going to teach you new things. You must hear or discover something on your own and ask. Then I can teach you." "How can I do that?" "You'll hear other boys talking about sex. There's always the internet." "Oh," he said, deflated, "I don't get to hear what the other boys say. And I don't have a computer." "I see. Well, there's one in my study and another downstairs." "But, um--I don't know how to work it--on line, I mean," he said, his face twisted, fearful perhaps of my disapproval. How could I disapprove of some technical thing he didn't know? "THAT, I can teach you right now." This elicited the boy's most enticing grin, which grew wider as I stood up. "Yes!" he shouted. "But put your clothing back on. I'll do the same." "Okay," he said, his excitement unabated. The boy was nearly trembling when I took him downstairs. I wasn't about to go to any sexual sites, but I showed Cole how to search for things. His eyes were wide with anticipation as he learned he could find almost anything. "This is so cool." The boy was in awe of the concept. I heard him typing away as I left him alone in the downstairs den. I made my way back to the kitchen and my coffee. 'What have I done?' I began to think. Cole was liable to find all sorts of unseemly things in his searches. I told myself he needed to learn how to handle those situations. If I coddled him through the process, it would disarm him, disable him from learning, not about sex, but about responsible action. "That was sweet!" he said, coming up the stairs, shouting excitedly. I saw the mighty erection in his shorts and his self-assured grin when he came into view. It was odd, I thought, that a boy his age walked about with an obvious swelling in his shorts without making some attempt to fix himself. I waited for him to ask about his findings on the internet. "No questions?" I said, anticipating many. "Not really. I already know how to jerk off." "You saw lessons on that?" "Yeah." "Interesting. What else did you see?" "Do I hafta tell you?" "No." "Oh," he said, disappointed, "you don't want to know?" First, he's a genius; now, a kaleidoscope of confusion. "Of course I want to know," I said softly and calmly, "but I won't force you to tell me." "I knew what sucking was before, but now I really know." There was Cole's charming blush again. "Oh," I said, adjusting my robe. "That made you horny, didn't it!" His sly grin subdued me very effectively. "Yes." It was impossible to lie to Cole. How could one lie to a boy who pours his heart out--whose unbridled excitement and honesty flows from every pore? "That's so cool," he said in awe, apparently willing to leave it at that, though I had my doubts. And desires. Foolishly, I tempted him. "So--what are you going to do?" I asked. "Um . . . well--I need to, you know, jerk off." This last part he said in a whisper, touching himself--to add emphasis I presumed. "I see," I whispered to his faltering face. "And that's not a bad thing. We all do it. I do it--masturbate, that is," I added, wanting to be sure he knew the proper term. "Oh. That's awesome! I wanna do it with you." "WITH me?" I said, the tension rising within. "Yeah. It'd be hot to watch you." "Watch me?" "Yeah. Yours is big and . . . it'd be fun to see." 'Fun. At least that,' I thought. I stared at him. "Well, I mean--if you want to." He was intimidated. But that didn't interfere with the charm he applied. What else had he learned? And at *my* computer, no less. Now what could I say? 'No, I don't want to.'? The alternative was equally difficult. "All right. But if you're doing it wrong, I'll correct you. And you must promise to obey my correction." I was giving it all the manly assertiveness I could muster, but I had doubts about controlling myself. "I promise." I took him to the spare bedroom, stopping along the way to furtively retrieve my lubricant, my knees shaking as I went. I suspected he used no lubricant. His organ had appeared chafed when I saw it at the toilet. "This is a cool room," he said enthusiastically. "Glad you like it. It's yours if you ever sleep over." I regretted saying it instantly. That opportunity might never arise. "Wow, Matt--that's awesome." I gave Cole an encouraging look as I made to unfasten my belt. He cooperated immediately. Undressing in front of each other, especially for the stated purpose, turned out to be more arousing than I'd imagined. This time, as one watched the other, the sensual element bloomed. Unclothed, Cole's body was as I'd imagined it. He stood at a tall, slender, 5 feet eight inches, with promising muscles that, while formed, were at the verge of budding. His unblemished, hairless skin had that lightly-tanned look that many blonds have --a sort of honey color that went so well with his almost-blond hair. His blue eyes and cute face completed the picture of pubescent perfection--a beautiful boy not far into puberty. Cole had only a shimmering sparse growth of golden hair on his arms and lower legs, and above his four-inch organ, a small patch of fine, light-colored hair. I did not see any strands of hair as he raised his arms to remove his shirt. "You look so hot," he said, his voice half-choked with the excitement he felt. Here we were, two naked males, about to perform an age-old act as if it were a prescribed ritual. I was certain that for Cole, it was a case of undisguised need of sexual release. There was the problem of position. Who should be where? I solved that by reclining on the large bed. Cole soon followed, his body a foot from mine. What earthly good was I doing him now? It was too late to ask if he was sure he wanted to do this. The boy had begun his frantic, unlubricated stroking. "Cole--would it be all right if I left you alone to do this?" Dennis B. StoriesNew@Yahoo.com That's all I wrote so far. Thanks for reading. Any comments would be great! Hope you liked it. I feel like continuing this story. Even one email would put a smile on my face and make it easier to write more. :-) --Dennis I HAVE 7 OTHER STORIES: 1. Crazy for Chad (a love story; ages 16 & 17) - last post APPROX. Nov. 15, 2005; High School 2. Getting it Hard at Spankin High (a discipline-school story; ages 13 to 19) - last post APPROX. Oct. 26, 2005; Authoritarian 3. Finding the Boy Who Stole My Heart (a kind of love story; ages 22 and 15; nothing forced) - last post APPROX. Oct. 9, 2005; Adult-Youth 4. Spankin High School Club Initiation (high school ages;) - last post APPROX. Oct. 16, 2005; High School; Athletics 5. My Son Drives Me Crazy - last post APPROX. Oct. 8, 2005; Incest 6. Discovering My Little Brother (two brothers, 17 and 13 start to get along real well) - last post APPROX. Nov. 14, 2005; Incest 7. Frat Initiation Hell Week (not as grueling as first meets the eye) - New story. Chapter 1 posted APPROX. Nov. 7, 2005; Authoritarian. LAST POST DATES good as of November 21, 2005. Actual post dates may be later, by the time you read this. Thanks, Dennis StoriesNew@Yahoo.com