Date: Sat, 9 May 2020 04:44:03 +0000 (UTC) From: Alejandro Ramirez Subject: The Wind-6 If you want to see g-rated pictures of the main characters, please send an email to yngalex008@aol.com. Comments, positive or negative are always welcome. Beto was hanging out watching his brother's team practice, leaning on the handrail that surrounded the field. He wore white Nike shorts, a red sweater, socks and flaps. His white boxer briefs were visible as they hugged his toned thighs. Mike was observing him from behind. He admired the boy's shape from behind. Two well-defined melons and a tempting crack that ended between his thighs. Mike was hornier than usual. He still had the picture in his mind of Christian's entering Jim's Porsche. He needed some form of release. He did not care too much for women at this point in his life, but Beto... Yeah, he wouldn't mind tapping that ass. He walked to where the boy was and started talking to him. He always had a good rapport with Beto. They talked about school, family and of course about Christian's performance at the last game. Beto was also an excellent player, on a par with his younger brother. He was a team player, but he was very creative, capable of the perfectly paced pass that would break the toughest defenses. Mike loved to watch his boy's curves when he played. A few times he had even gotten visibly excited. They talked for a long time, and it was getting to be dark outside of the lit field. Mike was often looking into Beto's face: those dark eyes, high cheeks, sensual lips ... He would not have minded frenching the boy. There was a strange energy between them. Maybe Beto had noticed the way Mike was looking at him. His tone was more serious, his voice maybe a little lower. He stared the beautiful boy in the eyes. Beto did not let go of the stare for a few long seconds, then looked down. Mike brought his right hand to the boy's right arm, the one on his side, eliciting no reaction. Below the sweater, the arm was firm, toned and Mike rubbed it slowly. Beto was looking down, but the energy was still there, even higher. Mike played with the boy's biceps as he looked around, checking that no one could see them. The coast was safe. He raised his hand to the teenager's face and delicately brushed his cheek. The boy looked up as Mike traced his jaw and then, very slowly, his sensual lips . The boy had such beautiful eyes, he thought. When Mike finally lowered his hand down to Beto's thigh, what he read in the boy's eyes was some understated lust, and an expression of surrender. So moving in such a young face. Mike brushed the side of Beto's thigh through the Nike shorts. He felt the firmness of the muscles through the shorts and the boxer briefs going up and down along the seam. Beto was looking at his feet or perhaps at Mike's hand from the corner of his eye. Time seemed suspended. There seemed to be no noise coming from the field or from the street on the opposite side. Mike's touch became firmer, now sliding to the front of the thigh. He wondered if Christian's thigh felt similar to his brother's. Maybe, Mike could answer this question, he thought, as his hand moved below the leg of the shorts to the boxer briefs and then lower to the bare skin. He went back up and repeated the move a few times, each time creeping towards the inside of the boy's thigh. The boy was so toned and sexy, Mike could have torn his shorts and boxers and took him right there. Mike was turned on as he had not been in many years. He slid his hand down the front of the thigh, and on his slow move up he pivoted nside, reaching the boy's sack. The contact was electric. Mike was careful not to hurt the boy, and lovingly fondled his balls through the fabric. He had him where he wanted him. His thumb searched the shorts above the balls and found the hardened tube that was his target. He traced the length of it and then rubbed it, while still caressing the ball sack. Beto's breathing had clearly accelerated. Mike could not see the boy's eyes but he would have bet they were closed and that he was biting his lower lip, feeling the hand of the man slowly fondling him. Beto bent his left leg and extended his right leg backwards while still leaning on the handrail. This opened up his bulge to Mike's hand. Mike grabbed Beto's sex in his hand while his other hand was landing on the boy's lower back. The same lower back he was dreaming about an hour before when he observed the teenager from the back. He carefully but lavisciously kneaded the boy's penis and balls. Man, he could have done this for hours. He could have slept with the boy with his hand on his sex the whole night, when he was not either sucking him or fucking him. He could see his face now, and yes, his eyes were closed, his mouth half open. His other hand found his way on the boy's firm melons, then in the crack between them, and lastly in between the cheeks where it went in quest of Beto's most private place. He thought he heard the boy moaning. He pulled the shorts down to the boy's knees and resumed his stroking through the boxer briefs. The boy was as hard as he could be and he felt the wetness through the underwear. Mike knew he was about to cum. He kneeled behind Beto, pulled the underwear down, reached around to grab the boy's penis and jack him, and he dove between the pretty boy's cheeks, drilling his tongue in the pussy he had been feeling so through the fabric. 10 strokes later, his tongue had penetrated the boy, and was fucking him with force. Beto grabbed the rail with 2 hands and moaned loudly. Mike felt the young dick shudder and Beto shot again and again on the track in front of him, as Mike's hand was milking his dick. Mike turned him around and swallowed him.