Date: Sat, 20 Jun 2015 21:44:05 +0000 (UTC) From: John Sexton Subject: shattered-ceiling-falling-sky-03 Author: John Sexton Love your feedback via: sexton1980@yahoo.com.au Please donate, to keep Nifty alive! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Mb Mbb MMMtbb MMMbbb =============================================== "If they wanted to make me different, all they had to do was abuse me; If they wanted to abuse me, all they had to do was insist that I become one of them; But if they wanted me to become one of them, they were fucked from the very start!" I first wrote that when I was twelve. It was the night of my first full day at Aunty Jane's in Sydney. It turned out to be one hell of a day... I'd just caught another great wave, after a really good set. I loved the water, the sun and beach; I still do. The only real difference is that I don't hide my enormous package now. But, back then, at the tender age of twelve, toting an eighteen centimetre monster that was almost as big flaccid as it was rampant, I was mortified by my massive appendage. In my eyes it was obscene and an embarrassment. What made it worse was that the head of my cock was almost half as thick again as the rest of my appendage, so it made the monster so much harder to hide, especially when it was erect. Worst of all: I hated board shorts, and even my light-nylon footy shorts slowed me down significantly in the water. I had learned that the hard way, losing three races on the trot before I abandoned wearing them in the water. So it's always been Speedos and always will be. With my equipment on display for all to see. In those brief times in the water or pool I was humiliated, but gradually succeeded in blocking the stares and comments out of my mind, never completely, of course. Unfortunately, that took a few years, because, for some time, I was getting countless comments, coughs and sighs, from the most likely and unlikely of places. Little wonder I hated myself; I was a freak! That might be hard to believe, but what you have to realise is that, while I knew I was hot, and I knew that I was going to be a star, I loathed that girls went crazy over me. I found girls irritating in general, even the few who I counted as friends. But when girls flirted with me, or flaunted their sexuality, they turned my stomach; at times like those even the dark side of the moon wasn't far enough away from them. I was firmly entrenched in the closet, and repressed by the guilt and self-loathing that I felt. I was devastated, because it was boys that I wanted to go crazy over me. I hated that so much more, because I couldn't be that boy, nor could I ever acknowledge any boys who did feel that way towards me. I wanted to be hot and to be the boy that both boys and men lusted after. But my secret was even darker still, because I was already a paedophile, at the age of twelve; I loved boys younger than me too. But I couldn't set one above the other, men over boys. I knew that I wanted both, and my needs were desperate. I was just swimming back out, to catch another set, when I saw him. All I could see was his head and shoulders, as we were treading water, waiting for the next set. He was only ten metres away and I could see he was a few years older than me, sixteen, maybe even fifteen. He was beautiful! Blond hair, blue eyes and flawless, tanned skin. Bombora was working big time off the point, and I'd been contemplating ducking back home, to Aunty Jane's, and grabbing my board. But one sight of this god was enough to can that idea. We both turned at the same time, and within seconds we were cresting the same wave; we rode the set all the way into shore, virtually in tandem. "Great set eh?" the blond Adonis cried as we both stood in the shallow water, the foam swirling around our ankles as the set ebbed back out to sea. His smile gave me butterflies and his eyes sparkled in the hot morning sun. He was wearing black Speedos and I could not help but look at his groin which seemed even bigger than mine. Size queen that I am [and was, even back then] I was in love... well, in lust, at least, at first sight. When I looked up at his beautiful face, I could see he was equally engrossed in my own package. He looked up at me and grinned salaciously when we made eye contact. "You held a pretty good line back there, Nippers?" He'd obviously noticed "Nambucca" printed in white across the arse of my Speedos, and guessed my age. "Yeah, you a junior or a senior here?" I replied, having seen the name of the local club emblazoned across the back of his beautiful arse as we'd first emerged from the set. "Junior," he laughed, "how old did you think I was?" "Fifteen?" He laughed again, and I'm guessing that he knew I'd dropped my estimate, based on his reaction. We both turned and headed back into the surf. "You're a long way from home," he said, as he glanced at my arse once again. "I thought you were a local." "What made you think that?" I asked, as we both dived under a breaking set that was just rolling in. "Well," he answered as we emerged from the broken waves, "that ad was shot at Whale Beach, I recognised the headland," he grinned at me, "you are the `Super Grain' kid, aren't you?" I flushed, then grinned sheepishly, I was delighted and embarrassed that he'd recognised me. We dived under another wave. "Thought so, I knew it was you. I love those ads, you're even hotter in the flesh though, I've gotta tell ya!" I'd made two more ads for the same product, since the Easter shoot, but I never realised that a guy like this spunk would be so infatuated with me, as he obviously was. I was also shocked that he was so open about it. We turned together and rode another set into shore. We continued for another half hour or so, until he lost his line on one particularly large wave and collided with me, sending us head over heel into the breaking wave, our bodies tangled together as we were dumped. However, before we had separated, his hand glided over my abs and my groin, and I swear he squeezed my cock in the process. "Sorry," he said, as we stood up. I thought, at first, that he was apologising for touching me up. But one look at his groin told me that was not the case. If I thought he was big before, I had to rethink. He was definitely a "grower" and his cock now reached across his lower abdomen to the edge of his hip. He was huge! I don't know where I got the courage to take the initiative; maybe it was the frustration of all the porn I'd watched over the seven months since my encounter with Toby, on the "Wild Roo." All that stimulation and no satisfaction, I was desperate for the real thing. Maybe it was because there, in Sydney, with the relative anonymity that the big city provided, despite him having recognised me from my ads, I felt relatively safe. Whatever... I took the plunge... "What, for cutting in or the touch-up?" I grinned salaciously and licked my lips. "For cutting in, of course!" He mirrored my grin. "One last set?" he added, and I guessed he wanted to give his cock a chance to return to a respectable state. We raced each other in on the next set, out of the water and up the crowded beach, but I was no match for him, even though I was the club champion in the Under 12s back in Nambucca. He had three years on me and was obviously super fit. I ran to my shorts and grabbed them to put them on as quickly as I could, ever conscious of my obscene genitalia. "Where's your towel," he asked. "Didn't bother... didn't figure I'd need it." "You can use mine, it's big enough, it's just over there." We weaved through the crowd, to a relatively vacant spot close to the surf club, where he'd left his stuff. When he spread his large beach towel out on the hot sand, it looked more like a blanket than a towel. He dropped down on one side and patted the space beside him. "Wish you hadn't put your shorts on, you look hot in your Speedos." He said, as he lay on his side facing me, the bulge in his own nylon enclosure swelling as he spoke. He didn't seem too concerned that anyone else might be looking, but it was obvious that I was. My only response was a deep blush; despite the scorching sun, I could still feel the heat radiating from my face. "Are you embarrassed?" "Duhh!" "You've got nothing to be ashamed of, dude! You're a stud." "You're joking right! You've seen it..." then I broke my serious demeanour with a shit-eating grin, "fuck, you've even felt it," I whispered, though we were at least seven or eight metres from the nearest sunbather, despite the relative density of the crowd, overall. "And?" "And it's obscene! You've seen the size of my knob... that's something I can't hide at the best of times." "Hey, I'm bigger than you, dude. But you don't see me hiding it! If you've got it, you might as well flaunt it." "That's easy for you to say, you're a heck of a lot bigger than me all over," I whined, "you've seen my knob, it's obscene; and when I crack a fat, while my dick doesn't get much bigger, my knob almost doubles in size... it's impossible to hide. You should see the looks I get and the comments that some people make!" I finished with a groan. I was lying on my side, facing him. He reached across the short distance between us and ever so gently ran his index finger from the base of my throat to my navel as he spoke. "I haven't seen your knob, but I'd like to! Wanna come back to my place, it's just over there." He pointed to a large block of units just behind us. "The rents are both at work," he added with a wicked snigger. That face! that smile! that body! that cock! ... how could I say "no!"? As we made our way across the promenade to his residence, we exchanged a few personal details: he'd been a member of the local surf club since he was eight [like me], he was in year nine, hated school, played Aussie Rules football [like me], loved computers and sex [like me]. Oh, and his name was Daniel to his mum, Danny to his dad and Dan to his mates. =============================================== I was as nervous as I'd ever been in my life, by the time we'd reached the foyer of his tower block, right on the beach. "Wanna cold drink, Jess?" Dan asked, as soon as we entered his eleventh floor unit. "Sure," I replied as I walked around the living room that had uninterrupted views north and east. I could see Aunty Jane's about a block away. "Pretty cool view, eh?" he asked. "Sure is, Dan, cheers!" I replied, as we chinked our bottles of soft-drink. The unit was air-conditioned, but we still skulled our drinks. We left the empties on the coffee table, as Dan led me by the hand to his bedroom, which was just off the living room and faced the sea as well. He immediately opened up a laptop, on his desk, opened an app, then picked up a headband and sat it on his head. It had a Wi-Fi webcam mounted on the front, and as he looked up at me, there I was in one of the app's windows on his laptop. "Hope you don't mind, but I want to capture every moment of this." "What?" I panicked, "you mean you're recording this!" "Yeah, is that a problem, Jess?" "Oh, no... no way... someone might see it." "What if they did?" he asked incredulously, "you could just say it's a fake." "Nobody would believe that! Besides, I'm just about to start filming a movie this week, my career would be over before it began! Sorry," I said, "but no way, Dan, turn it off please!" "Sure, okay, no sweat, Jess!" Dan closed the app, then took off the headband camcorder. He smiled at me, it was a strange smile, one that suggested he had a secret, something about which I was unaware. "You don't know; you have no idea, do you?" "What? No idea about what?" I was starting to get agitated; it was a mix of fear and frustration. Dan reached over and grabbed my hand gently, then lead me over to his desk. He sat down in front of his laptop, then patted his lap. "Come here, you sexy thing!" he teased. I sat on his lap, and I could feel his massive cock start to harden inside the stretched fabric of his Speedos, as soon as my tender buttocks came to rest. But my attention was soon focused on the laptop, as he opened a Firefox window and displayed his bookmarks. He navigated to a bookmarks folder called "Super Grain spunk;" and I was immediately on full red alert. There were at least a dozen websites listed, at least five of them were Tumbler pages, while several others bore titles such as: "Super Grain boy god," "Super Grain boy trans," "Super Grain boy clips" and "Super Grain boy vids." Dan pulled up the first Tumbler page, and there were dozens of thumbnail images of me on an Archive index page. Most of them seemed to be snapshots from video clips of the three ads that I had made, plus clips taken from those ads. I was stunned. Dan was right; I'd had no idea that any of this existed on the net. What made it even more astounding was that I was a regular visitor to Tumbler and had subscribed to numerous Tumbler pages for over a year, maybe more; yet I'd never once seen any of these pages before. I couldn't believe that I hadn't even seen one of the dozens of my pics in any cross-posting on any of the pages that I'd visited over the last five or six months. The odds against that were staggering, given how Tumbler worked back then. "You're right, Dan," I mumbled, still stunned by what I was seeing, "I had no idea, none whatsoever!" Dan continued to navigate from one page to the next, with his mouse in his right hand, while his left hand roamed over my flat stomach and chest, teasing my rock-hard, erect nipples, but never venturing lower than my cute `innie' navel. Then he navigated to a desktop shortcut icon simply labelled "god" and opened it. The contents stunned me, because it displayed hundreds of thumbnail images of me. They were mostly copies of the files from Tumbler, mostly images, but several clips as well. "I've been captivated by you since the first day I saw your first ad," Dan whispered in my ear, and I shivered as his warm breath teased my neck. "You can't even begin to imagine what I felt when I saw you down there today. It was like finding the present I'd been dreaming about all year, right under the tree on Christmas morning." I was in shock, and I was totally confused. On one hand I was freaked out that anyone would be so obsessed with me. I felt as if I was being stalked. It was really eerie. But at the same time I was totally blown away that not just Dan, but many others, maybe hundreds of others were so into me. Of course I had been aware of fan-fic sites, especially Harry Potter sites, and the range of fantasy pornography that they generated, both pictorial and textual. They'd been around for years and were still popular. But THIS was ME!!! What's more... the boy currently molesting me was one of the guys who was obsessed with me. I was both scared shitless and incredibly turned on! Dan grabbed my throbbing cock, through my nylon shorts and Speedos, and squeezed it firmly. I reciprocated by pushing my arse hard against his own throbbing erection. "You might think THIS..." he stressed the word, as he massage my massive knob with his thumb and index finger, "is obscene," he cooed in the shell of my ear, and his hot breath turned me to jelly in his lap, "but all these sites are telling me that there are hundreds, thousands of guys out there who think it's magnificent. It's a gift! YOU are a gift... from the gods, Jess!" I didn't really know what to think; I was totally blown away. Dan scrolled down to a series of thumbnails that were obviously close-ups of my Speedo-encased genitals. He opened one of the photos that was zoomed and cropped until it filled the screen with just the outline of my cock, with the uncut knob clearly delineated. Then Dan quickly skipped back to the browser and opened a website called "Super Grain boy clips." It contained copies of my three ads for the "Super Grain" cereal. In all three ads there was footage of me competing at surf carnivals. Each of the ads had at least several seconds of footage of me racing up the beach to win some event, and in each instance my tackle was swinging like a pendulum inside my nylon Speedos. I felt so totally naïve; I could not suppress a deep blush that swept across my face, as Dan replayed one of the clips that had been edited to zoom in on my tackle in slow motion. For the first time it finally clicked why the wardrobe guy had insisted that I wore the Speedos that they provided for the ads. He had said it was because of the white "Nambucca" ID blazoned across the arse of my own Speedos. I'd complained that the ones he wanted me to wear were too loose, always worrying that, if I cracked a fat, I'd be so embarrassed. Luckily that had never happened. I sat on Dan's throbbing monster, and ogled, almost transfixed, at my massive junk, flopping about in close-up and super-slow motion. I suddenly wondered if there hadn't been an ulterior motive for the dresser's insistence! Had the director been in on it? It would be several days before I eventually tweaked to the fact that a great deal of the footage, on that website in particular, was stuff that wasn't in any of the ads that had "gone to air." A lot of the more salacious close-ups and miscellaneous footage of me running around in my `budgie smugglers' had come from the cutting room floor! But more of that later. "I had no idea!" I mumbled, as Dan continued to stimulate my throbbing cock, which was leaking like a tap, soaking my swimmers and shorts. "If you're surprised by this," Dan whispered, "then this will blow your mind!" He navigated to "Super Grain boy trans" and, when he opened the site I was stunned, angry, turned-on, all at once. To this day I still don't know what my basic reaction really was just then. There were too many variables and too many responses to process from what I was seeing. There, on the screen, were dozens of preview clips of ME having sex! Fucking, being fucked, sucking, being sucked, being spit-roasted, double penetrated, you name it, I WAS DOING IT! "What the fuck!" I exclaimed "It's called transing, Jess," Dan whispered in my ear, as he squeezed my balls gently, through the damp nylon. But he made no move to go skin-on-skin. "They've been my wanking material for months," he cooed. He closed the browser and navigated to a sub-folder in his "god" folder called "trans." I was stunned, there were at least forty video clips and they were all of me having the most erotic sex imaginable. I was shaking, I was in such shock, I still don't know if it was from fear, outrage or sexual arousal. "But, how? What? ..." I faltered, then fell into stunned silence, as he opened a high quality video clip of ME being fucked by a massive black guy with a cock that had to be thirty centimetres long and as thick as my upper arm. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, "I know this vid, I've got it at home on my own laptop! That's Devon LeBron, from Staxus, and that's Sven Laarson he's fucking. So how?" "You've seen `Lord of the Rings' and `Tin Tin,' right?" I simply nodded, too stunned to utter another word, as I watched LeBron's foot long monster cock sliding in and out of MY tiny white arse. "Well, the software they used to create Gollum and Tin Tin has come a long way since then. What used to take them months, on a super computer network, can now be done on a PC using a pretty sophisticated app called `Trans-IT,' and all in a couple of hours." "But, if I didn't know it wasn't me," I finally managed to blurt out, "I wouldn't believe it wasn't me. It's so fucking realistic I can't believe it isn't really me." I shivered as Dan reached up and slid his hand inside the waistband of my footy shorts. "Yeah it's fucking brilliant, isn't it?" "Fucking terrifying is more like it!" "Nah, you're just saying that cause it's YOU, and you're still trying to get your beautiful young head around it." "Maybe." "Trust me, babe, it's super-hot, you're super-hot, and it's just a fantasy. Everyone knows it's not you." "No way! ... Sven is way bigger than me, but it looks just like me, and I look so tiny against LeBron." "The software has come a long way, babe; it can be programmed to scale. Look, it's even made Sven's cock look like yours. He hasn't got a knob like THIS," Dan squeezed my swollen glans, skin-to-skin, and I shot a massive load all over his fingers and the insides of my Speedos. "Oh, fuck!! FUCK!!!" I moaned as I shuddered and watched LeBron pull his massive, black, uncut cock out of MY arse and shoot a load into MY hot little mouth. "This is unreal," I swooned, "LeBron is one of my faves and I'm watching one of my biggest fantasies come to life! Who'd have known?" My inhibitions had fled in that moment and, most uncharacteristically, I did not plunge into a sudden fit of despair and self-loathing, as I usually did, post-orgasm. I was still on a massive sexual high. It was beyond weird. "Fuck!" I exclaimed once more, and collapsed back against Dan, who had leaned back in his desk chair, with his throbbing cock pushing hard against my arse. Dan continued to fondle my now ultra-sensitive knob, but I didn't have the strength or the will to try to stop him, and my cock had refused to soften. In fact I was harder than ever. "So that's what you meant, when you said that nobody would believe it was me, if you taped us having sex?" I drawled lazily in my post-orgasmic bliss. "Yeah, everyone would think it was just another trans, you'd have nothin' to worry about." "You plan on putting it on the net?" I asked in a half panic, even though we hadn't actually recorded anything. "Yeah, why not? Of course I'd trans myself to hide my ID, maybe as Sven!" We both laughed at that. "I'd trans you of course, but it would still be you." "Why would you? ... ... ... Oh, so no one could tell that it was really me! I get it... so you've got the software then?" "Of course," Dan whispered as he licked by ear, sending a shiver through my tiny, twelve-year-old body, "who do you think owns the website?" "That was you!" I cried incredulously, then I swung my torso around on his lap, to face him. "So you've done all those transes of me?" "Most of them," he grinned, "and if you haven't worked it out yet, babe, I'm kind of obsessed with you. You're my dream come true!" He kissed me hard on the mouth; it took my breath away. He was only the second person I'd ever kissed or been kissed by. I was swept away in that moment, and I devoured his tongue and mouth within seconds. I attacked his mouth voraciously, as the dam of all the years of unrequited sexual desire burst asunder. When we broke the kiss, and Dan finally caught his breath, he continued... "You're the flavour of the month on the underground net at the moment, Jess, you're famous around the globe, kiddo!" "But how?" I gestured towards the laptop, "aren't you afraid of getting caught?" "Nah, what can they do anyway, it's not really kiddie porn. Besides the site can only be accessed through the `Leek' network. It's an advanced version of `Onion.'" "But didn't that get taken down by the thought police?" "Fuck! You're pretty net savvy for a kid, Jess. How'd you know about that?" "I get around!" "So... how about it?" Dan asked as he picked up the WiFi headband from his desk. "You up for it?" "Yeah, s'pose so," I drawled cheekily, "can't you feel it?" "All-riiigght!!" Dan roared. He reloaded the app, mounted the head band, then clicked the record button, all with his left hand; his right hand never left my cock. I suddenly appeared on the screen, or at least my face did. Dan leaned back and looked down at my groin, then he withdrew his cum-slicked fingers from my Speedos, as I watched it on the screen. "Let's see what we've got here," he teased, as he held the hand up to the camcorder mounted on his forehead. "Oh you naughty little boy," he crooned lewdly, "you've cum all over my hand! You beast!" Quickly catching the mood, I lifted his hand up to my mouth and greedily lapped the sticky, watery goo off his long, slender fingers. My eyes never left his throughout the entire process. The effect was that I was staring lewdly into the camera the whole time. Watching it now, as I type this, nine years later, I can't believe how erotic it still is, especially as this is the unedited version, and it is a blow-by-blow [literally] record of my deflowering. For a fifteen-year-old, Dan was exceptionally sexy, an amazingly confident and savvy stud. I opened my mouth to the camera, displaying my cum soaked tongue, before Dan swooped on it with his hot lips. All you can see is my blond hair and left ear, but it is obvious from the moans and sucking and slurping that we were in a passionate exchange of body fluids. Even now it seems to go on forever. We eventually separated and I swallowed noisily, before I opened my then empty mouth to the camera. Dan turned around and opened a draw under his desk and retrieved the largest cock I'd ever seen. It was about forty or fifty centimetres long, and was made of dark-maroon, glazed ceramic, with a massive hole on the end of the glans. I immediately recognised it as a bong, when I saw the cone poking out of the shaft, just above the two massive balls that formed the base. I'd smoked dope before with a mate of mine, back home in Nambucca; the First few times nothing, but if he was getting high, I'd known I could too. It had finally kicked in on the third try; but I had never tried it again till that day in Sydney with Dan, because I'd freaked out that I was going to out myself to my mate. Dan grabbed a baggie and a lighter from the draw, then held up the bong in his other hand. "You ever?" "Yeah, a few times," I answered with a salacious, eager grin. Dan quickly loaded up and offered me the first toke. I fumbled with the massive device, until he showed me the breather air hole, just above the cone stem. I took a huge huff, as he held the lighter to the cone. But I wasn't really prepared for the massive intake of smoke, as I released the breather. I gasped and coughed and hacked until I thought my lungs were going to end up on my lap. "Fuck!" I cried, with tears streaming down my cheeks. Dan was in hysterics. "Very funny," I griped and hacked wildly, "glad you're amused," I added between gasps. "Sorry, babe, but you said you'd smoked before." "Yeah, but my mate's bong wasn't a quarter as big as this fucker!" I protested, between hacking and laughing. "Just wasn't expecting that much... fuck!" Dan took over from me, then handed it back. It was a huge bowl, and it took us several tokes to knock it off. But, once I knew what to expect, I handled it a lot better. In the few minutes that it took to finish that single cone, I was already baked, so much so that my face had started to go numb. I smiled at the camera and it was obvious I was spaced out and off my beautiful face. I looked straight at Dan, with a totally shit-faced grin, and reached up, to take the band off his head. I attempted to mount it on my own head, but it slipped down over my eyes; only my ears and nose stopped it from falling down around my neck. Dan leaned in towards me, and again it was obvious that we were in another torrid tongue wrestle. He adjusted the band while we were going at it. When I looked up at Dan, his face came into full focus. Looking at the video, now, I realise that I'd almost forgotten just how hot Dan was, back then. He was Adonis personified! I swear he could have convinced me to do anything that day. As I tilted my head slowly, I scanned his magnificent, fifteen-year-old body, from his beautiful face to his large, tanned feet. He was a god. Blond curly locks that just covered his ears; blue eyes; brilliant smile; trimmed, smooth, tanned torso; well-developed pecks; washboard abs; a massive package, still confined to his tight Speedos; taut, golden, hairless legs. If I didn't still have it captured on video, I don't think I'd be able to convince myself that he had been so hot. I watched as Dan packed another cone. But this time he took the first toke. Instead of exhaling, he moved towards me, until all that showed on the camera were his golden locks. It was obvious from the sounds and the smoke that drifted up over the screen that he was introducing me to shot-gunning. We continued until we were both totally wasted and I was grinning like a loon. "Oh, fuck, Dan... I'm totally shit-faced!" was all I could manage to slur, as he reached up and took the headband back. I grinned into the camera like an idiot. We kissed again, for several long minutes, but surprisingly it's not boring footage. I still find it totally erotic, despite being able to see nothing but a mass of blond locks and my partly exposed ear; I suppose that's because the sounds are so exquisite and still so real. The fact that I'm smoking some pretty mean shit, as I'm typing this and watching the video again, helps bring the vivid immediacy of the experience back to life. This video was my first step towards the long process of learning to love myself. At least it was the first step to realising that I was really quite beautiful. I still hated myself, of course, and would continue to do so for some time to come. But, from this point on, until I made my stand on the Charlotte Jones talk show, some two years later, I was making the slow transition from hating who I was, to hating what I was being forced to do: lie to myself and about myself. When we broke the kiss, Dan looked into my eyes passionately. My own reaction was a perfect reflection of that look, and it was straight to camera. I sometimes wish I could revisit that moment, as me, as I am now, but with both Dan and I right there, as we both were back then. I would die happily, if I could just spend that afternoon with those two beautiful boys, exploring Dan's magnificent torso and licking, sucking, kissing and fucking my own self. To be able to tell my own, twelve-year-old self that I really was quite beautiful, inside and out; to tell myself that I actually had nothing to be ashamed of, that society could go fuck itself, is a fantasy that would make my life complete. But it's just a fantasy, and this vivid POV video is as close as I can get to its realisation. At least I have that, and the satisfaction of knowing that Dan did as good a job as anyone could have in starting me on the road to recovery and self-affirmation. Dan turned back to open the desk draw again. He reached in and withdrew several dildos, a huge bottle of Swiss Navy water-based lube and a small, brown bottle of Jungle Juice. Of course I knew what they were, even though I'd never seen any of them in the flesh before. After all, with my porn collection I'd fantasised about all this and more for ages. But that didn't stop me from trembling with anxiety and eager anticipation. "Dan," my voice trembled, and my face clearly showed my trepidation, "I've never done anything like this before! I've been wanked-off and kissed by a guy once... and that's it. I've never even touched another guy's cock before!" "Fuck! You're serious, aren't you?" "Yeah, sorry." "Sorry! Sorry? ... Oh, babe, don't be sorry!" He looked genuinely conflicted. I only wish the camera had been on his beautiful face at that moment! "Do you want to stop, Jess? ... It's okay if you do, babe. I'll understand!" It was at that moment that I fell in love with Dan. There we were... both off our faces and sexually worked up into a near frenzy, and he was more than willing to just let it all go! That was the measure of the guy. Even at fifteen, as sexed-up and rampant as he was right then, he was prepared to put me first. Sure he was a sex-obsessed pervert, just like me, but first and foremost, he was a beautiful person, and I still love him to this day. "Oh, no!" I cried in a near panic, "I've been dreaming about this day since forever, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with right now!" "Shit! Fuck!" Dan cried, as he wrapped me in a bone-crushing embrace, that almost knocked the wind out of me. I was stunned when I realised he was crying. "I've dreamed about this, like forever, too. But it's YOU! I can't believe that I found you!" We kissed; it was breathtaking, literally, and it went on for ages. We fell onto his bed, me still in my cum-soaked shorts and swimmers and Dan still in his Speedos, stretched to breaking point by his massive, leaking cock! I was trembling as we kissed, you can see it and hear it in my breathing, on the tape. It was a day that, with or without the video, I will never forget; and it had barely begun! ===============================================