Disclaimer:  The following story is a work of fiction, a fantasy actually.  It is not based on any real persons, living or dead.  It does contain graphic descriptions of sexual activity.  In most countries of the world you must be 18 years old to read it, so stop now if you are not 18 years old.  And if you are offended by vivid descriptions of sexual activity between boys and men, do not continue reading.

 

The standard disclaimers and conditions apply, which you should have read when you entered this site.

 

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If you enjoy this story then by all means contact me at richt4t1958@gmx.com. I love feedback, but please don't send me any indecent images or abusive mails. I will immediately bin those and block the sender. Friendly comments will be welcomed.

 

Thanks to J for the editing.

 

Richard Darby Stories.

 

A 5 part story by Richard Darby.

 

What's it all about, Alfie? - Part 1.

 

My name is Alfie Summers and I was born in 1958 in Bristol (known colloquially as 'Brizzle'), England. I grew up to be a good-looking boy with brown hair and hazel eyes and I was always slim and never overweight. That was my metabolism I suppose, and for the rest of my life I've never had to bother about weight problems. But this story is mostly about when I was a little kid and how I first discovered sex, so we'll leave things at that.

 

My best friend throughout my school years and until we went our separate ways in life was Dominic Peters, and we were real best buddies. We met when we were 5 years old and did everything together, but considering I'm gay, today I find it very strange there was never anything sexual that happened between us. We were best mates and that was that. But looking back, considering the differences in our two families, even being best mates was unusual. Why? I'll tell you.

 

My own family were useless. I had two older brothers and a younger sister and a dad who spent most of his time not working and in the pub, and my mum was one of those women who didn't really give a toss about us just as long as we kept out of trouble. So I did my own thing and most of my time I was with my mate Dom, playing or whatever.

 

On the other hand, Dom's family were so very different. His dad was a hard-working bricklayer and his mum was a nurse. They weren't perfect, but they were a real family who cared for their three kids. Dom was the youngest. He had a brother five years older than him and a sister seven years older. So Dom was the baby, and like most babies in the family, he was the spoilt one. So when Dom made friends with me, even though I was from a rough family, his parents accepted me without any problems.

 

So that's how I grew up... not giving a damn about my own family and half-adopted by Dom's family. Loads of times I would stay at Dom's house at weekends or holiday times, and I would even go on holiday with them in the summertime to a static caravan they had at Weston-Super-Mare, a seaside resort about 25 miles south of Bristol... a place with long sandy beaches and a long pier that went far out to sea and lots of amusement places on the sea-front, as well as fun-fairs.

 

So that's my background when I was a little kid. Now I'll get onto my sexual awakening.

 

Thinking back, I was about 7 or 8 when I began wanking properly. Although I was not a big kid, my dick was disproportionate to my small body. I never had to use three fingers to wank. My dick was big enough to fit in my hand when I was giving it a good bashing, and like most kids when they're little, I didn't have fantasies about anything. The only thing that interested me was those fantastic feelings at the end of the wank. I loved them and sometimes I'd do it two or three times when I went to bed. And something else I noticed as I grew older... most boys my age had very small balls. I was blessed with proper balls as far back as I can remember. I wasn't particularly interested in my balls, but looking back now, if I was looking at myself, I would be thinking: That kid has got a fair package for his age!

 

So that was me before I was ten years old... a horny little toad with a nice todger and a good pair of balls and a nice slim body and a cute little bottom to go with it. A pedo's dream, I suppose.

 

But I knew nothing then about pedos. This was the 60's and not the 21st century where the world and its dog are scared stiff of them. But by the time I was 10 years old, I discovered my very first pedo, and it was somebody who I would never have dreamed was one! So I'll tell you all about it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As I've told you, Dom's family seemed to be the perfect one to me. They were kind and gentle and very rarely were voices raised about anything. So you can imagine my shock when Dom, after he'd had two days off from school when we were 9 years old, came to school and was in tears when he told me that his mum had left his dad and that he and his brother and sister were now living with his mum in another part of the city. And to make matters ten times worse, he then told me that he was leaving our school and going to another one. As you can imagine, I was devastated. Not only was I losing my best pal, I was also losing the only staid influence of adults in my life. I asked Dom why his family had parted. He said he didn't know. They'd told him that it happens to grown-ups sometimes. That made sense to me. My own mother and father were forever having breaks from each other. If it wasn't my mum who was off to her mothers, it was my dad who buggered off to stay at his mate's house for a few days.

 

So things went on... Dom moved away and I was gutted. But all was not lost... thank goodness. About a month after all this had gone on, Dom's dad knocked on our door and said that Dom was coming to stay with him at weekends and Dom had asked if I could be there with him. My own parents didn't give a shit and agreed right away. So, thank God, that was soon done and dusted and me and Dom began a new kind of life together as buddies. There was the occasional weekend when he didn't stay with his dad, but nearly every weekend he did. So Friday nights I would get home from school, have very little to eat except a few biscuits to take the edge of my hunger because I would be having tea with Dom and his dad, wait until about six o'clock, and then run over to Dom's dad's house. Sometimes Dom hadn't arrived, but his dad always greeted me with a big grin and other things.

 

Other things! I can't say I hadn't noticed, but I'd never thought anything about it before. Looking back now, if I'd been wiser back then, I'd have described Dom's dad as 'tactile'. He did it all the time with me... stroking my hair and fondling my neck and sometimes he'd pinch my bottom or grab a handful. I never took any notice and it was just fun. As a matter of fact, I quite liked it. It was the closest thing to being loved that I knew. Not for a single moment did I even remotely think it was anything sexual. Well, why should I? I knew nothing about pedos. I'd never heard of boys being molested by men, and my wanking was just past the non-fantasy stage. Just the feelings... but I was beginning to appreciate my own body for what it was and sometimes I'd look at myself in the mirror and wank off. I'd even turn around and stroke and play with my bum cheeks and pull them open to display my hole, even stretching it at times. My gay awakenings? Yes, looking back now, that's what they were. Very slowly, I was becoming aware that I was a sex object, and that's when the very first fantasies began to happen; when I first started sticking my finger and other suitable objects into my bum hole and I pretended that a dick was being put up it. But it took a very special person to teach me the real things, and I couldn't have had a better teacher.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

So life went on. School without Dom and weekends with him. We slept together. Why not? We'd been doing it for a long time before his parents split up. But weekends were different now. Just me and Dom and his dad. Dom told me that his dad saw his brother and sister regularly, but being older than Dom, they did their own things with their own friends and didn't want to spend the weekends with their dad now they were teenagers. That was fine with me; because that's when I began to discover those other things I was telling you about.

 

And now there was just me and Dom and his dad, those tactile moments became more frequent. Sometimes I'd get to Dom's house and Dom hadn't arrived. But his dad was always at home and he let me in and always welcomed me with a hug, and sometimes he'd grab me and sit on the sofa with me on his knee and ask me how my week had gone. I'd be telling him, and he'd be stroking me on my head and face and legs while I was doing it. But the moment Dom arrived, he'd scoot me off his knee before Dom saw us like that. And I was about 9 and a half before I began to realise what was going on. I might have been a little kid, but I wasn't stupid. So bit by bit I began to work out what was going on. Dom's dad never touched my dick, but his fondling was pretty much everywhere else, and I began to realise that he wanted to feel me up. And that's when I began to get a hard on whenever I sat on his knee or when all three of us were sat on the sofa watching TV before me and Dom went to bed. And if I hadn't properly worked it out in my brain, my dick had. It knew exactly what that fondling was doing to it. But Dom's dad was an expert. He knew exactly what places to fondle to make my dick hard. But my brain was learning too. Oh yes... I liked what was happening and I began to work out how to make this crazy situation work even better.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Nights on the sofa after me and Dom had done playing or whatever. One of us each side of his dad. His dad's big arms around us. I began to notice everything. The arm that was around Dom was always folded across Dom's chest. No fondling there. Just me for the fondling-fun. A big strong arm around me; a rough and calloused hand settled at the side of my left thigh, and fingers and a thumb that never stopped stroking me. It was the thumb that did the most 'damage'. While he wormed his fingers under my bum cheek, his thumb would be stroking me on top of my thigh, right by the part where the joint of the top of my thigh was... right by the side of where the base of my dick was. But Dom's dad was clever. He always sat in such a way that Dom wouldn't be able to see what he was doing. I knew what he was doing. Oh yes, I'd worked it out. But I also had to be clever. Because I had a big dick, always when I sat down, I made sure it was trapped between my legs. That was the only way I could hide my raging boner. And, quite often, if there was the slightest danger that it might slip out, I would cross my legs to make sure it didn't. I liked what was happening, but no way did I want to let Dom or his dad know what it was doing to me.

 

But Dom's dad did know what it was doing to me. He also knew that I was silently accepting what was happening. All I needed to do to stop this frequent weekend fondling was to sit elsewhere, but I always happily snuggled into Dom's dad whenever we were on the sofa. Oh yes... I took my 'medicine' gladly, with a madly throbbing dick and a dry throat. This silent and secret introduction to sex was fantastic.

 

And so it went on, and it was just after I'd had my 10th birthday that things finally slipped into place properly. But not before I had to deal with a situation that might have stopped this sexy stuff happening.

 

During the week I would plan for the weekend if Dom was staying with his dad, and one week I decided it was time to take this fondling to a new stage. It was summer and warm and I decided that, instead of wearing jeans, I would go to Dom's house in my footie shorts. So when we were on the sofa, I sat down so the leg of the shorts on the 'hand side' was right up my leg, and when the rough hand settled on me, it was partly on a naked boy upper thigh. And that thumb had only a flimsy covering to fondle.

 

It worked a treat... far better than I would have imagined. Not only did that thumb have a good time, the fingers of the hand were having a whale of a time exploring the back of my naked thigh. They even ventured inside my footie shorts and were rubbing up and down the part of my bum crack that they could get to. (Yes, we'd got to that stage by then!) But I had Y-front underpants on and they couldn't get right inside. But I felt them stroking my perineum and the back of my ballsac. God! I was so worked up that I almost broke the 'house rules' of silent, pretend, unknowing acquiescence of what was going on. At one point, after pretending to scratch my nose, I 'inadvertently' put my hand on the back of Dom's dad's hand and left it there because I was ready to start directing 'operations'. The result was that Dom's dad's hand froze immediately. I wondered what he was thinking. Why did he stop? Did he think I was going to stop him fondling me? I'd made a mistake and I had to make things right. So, bravely, I stroked the back of his fingers and took hold of his thumb. Then I played with his thumb, rolling it around in my fingers as if it was a dick for a few seconds, pressed it down against my naked upper thigh and partly under the leg of my footy shorts, and then took my hand away. A few seconds later, when the fingers and thumb began to do their stuff again, I was elated. Because of where I'd placed the thumb, it had access right up as far as my underpants and it kept stroking along the part where they were tight against my body.

 

I realised that I nearly blew it there, but having made amends, I was aware that both of us had pretty much told the other that we knew what was happening, and that's when things really began to develop. The thumb became even busier and, eventually, it managed to worm its way under the edge of my underpants and up to the base of my dick. Because my dick was jammed down between my legs, all Dom's dad could do was stroke the small part that was available to him. But I'm pretty sure he didn't miss the fact that it was throbbing away like mad. I even considered opening my legs and letting it loose, but I was too scared to do that. So I just let him stroke what he could get at.

 

Then it was bedtime. I had to sort of hide my dick with my hand when I got up and went with Dom to our room. We didn't bother showering or bathing back in those days. We'd had a wash before tea. When we got into bed in just our underpants, and after we'd done some talking and were getting tired, Dom went to sleep. I waited for a while and made sure he was asleep, and then I pushed the waist hem of my Y-fronts down, got my dick out, and began to have a wank whilst thinking about what had gone on. I did it once and was having a rest before doing it again, when I heard the bedroom door opening. I froze! Dom's dad never came into the bedroom after we'd gone to bed. Perhaps he thought we would be doing boy stuff together, even though we never did. So I did the only thing I could think of... I let my underpants slip back up over my dick, and pretended to be asleep.

 

My heart was pounding like a steam hammer and I hardly dare breathe when I heard him approach the bed. Dom was doing his usual soft snore, so I tried to copy him. Dom's dad was right by the bed. I could hear his breathing. Then he put his hand on my head and very gently brushed the hair back from my forehead. I felt his breath on my face and then his lips kissed the part he'd brushed my hair back. I thought that was it and expected him to back go out of the room. But he didn't do that. Instead - and I could only surmise that he he'd done it because I was keeping my eyes shut - he must have knelt down at the side of the bed. I felt something happening there, and realised what he was doing. He was loosening the bedclothes so he could push them back so he could get at me.

 

The next thing I knew was his warm hand brushing very gently over my underpants. I couldn't stop it! My dick went as hard as a rock as soon as he did it, and then I felt his fingers grab hold of it. It was throbbing like mad and there was nothing I could do about it. But I didn't dare wake up. All the stuff we'd done up to then was by pretending it wasn't happening, so I decided I'd have to carry on the pretence. So I did a sort of snuffle and slightly moved my left leg to give him better access. Immediately, his hand froze. So I began to snore again. Then the fingers began to move again. Because I'd opened my legs a bit when I did the movement that made him freeze, he now had access to my balls, and I felt him stroking and feeling at them. Then his hand moved again, over my boner, and then further up and the next thing I felt was his fingers pulling down the hem of my underpants and those beautiful rough digits wrap around my now naked dick and begin to gently work my foreskin up and down. Dom's dad was wanking me off! I was so worked up that it only took about 30 seconds before the feelings surged through me, and I let out a sort of dreamy moan as if it was happening in my sleep.

 

I wondered what would happen next. But Dom's dad must have decided that he'd risked enough for one night, so he pulled my underpants back over my dick, put the blankets back, got up and kissed me softly on my forehead, and I heard him go back out of the bedroom.

 

I was almost shaking like a leaf at what had happened, but I was also as excited as hell. For the first time in my life, somebody else had wanked me off! Thinking back now, that was probably the sexiest moment of my life. I remember that I celebrated by wanking myself off again before I went to sleep. But I was also worried. What would happen in the morning when we had to get up?

 

But I'll explain all that in the next part, when I'll tell you of even more exciting things that happened.

 

...................

 

Richard Darby... richt4t1958@gmx.com