Date: Mon, 1 Jul 2013 22:18:55 +0100 From: Paul O'Neill Subject: 'Non Touch Technique' 'Non Touch Technique' Pete was 25. Shaven headed, blue eyes, short and stocky, with a broad chest and muscular legs. He wasn't new to the gay scene but the 'bear and cub' nights were new, and something of a revelation. For the first time he felt attractive. Not awkward, weaving self-consciously amongst the melee of skinny perm tanned young men, who seemingly sported up to three haircuts at once. This particular night he was faintly bored on the dance floor of an old school basement gay club. This music wasn't for him. Home time. A voice from his left startled him slightly. 'Get your shirt off. I want to see you bare chested.' The voice belonged to a boy. Could be 19, maybe 21 at most. Tall, olive skinned with a shaven head and dark eyes. Pete smiled uncertainly. His checked shirt was open, as half nakedness was virtually expected in this type if club and Pete found it liberating. He had also been getting fitter lately. Not ripped, but certainly more tone and less belly. 'Nice tattoo' said the kid, forcibly pushing Pete's shirt open and rubbing a soft hand over the Celtic cross on Pete's exposed chest. 'What's your name mate?' asked Pete. 'Doesn't matter. You're coming home with me'. 'What, for coffee?' commented Pete, with a slight reticence. 'Well yeah if you want. After I've fucked the cum out of you. Your hands won't even touch your cock'. This forthright assertion made Pete's large, thick penis stir in his jeans. What the hell. You're only young once and this kid was so young. And confident. And direct. That was something of a turn on in itself. Pete smiled. 'You're on.' __ It was a contemporary, uncluttered living room. 'I'm getting a shower' said the boy. I want you naked and ready. My bed is through there. Off you go.' Pete shakily removed all his clothes and lay on the red and black duvet of the lad's room. The lad eventually emerged from the shower, towelling himself. His skin was olive and looked soft. He was covered in a variety of tattoos and had a smattering of chest and stomach hair. His back and shoulders were flawless and smooth. 'Turn over. All fours' said the lad. Pete did so, his big penis now grinding into the duvet, hard and throbbing. He felt heat behind him. The kid's chest was heaving, Pete could sense it. Then he felt a warmth and gentle pressure against his backside. The boy's dick was large, not quite as thick as Pete's, and he too was hard as steel. He applied more gentle pressure. Pete felt soft lips on the back of his neck. There was no pain. Just pressure, warmth and, oh god. The sheer pleasure. Pete felt full up. In a good way. That was the only way he could describe it in his head.. The lad made gasping noises as he started to plunge deeper into Pete's body. Pete dropped flat against the bed linen and felt warm, soft, young skin cover his back as the young man pressed his chest against Pete's back. Their whole bodies were meshed together now. Pete felt soft bare feet entwine themselves in his own toes, and lightly hairy legs pin down his muscular thighs. 'Turn' ordered the lad, gently but firmly. He turned over. The boy's naked body glistened and shimmered with fresh sweat. It beaded the soft flawless skin of his forehead. His penis remained buried inside Pete. He raised Pete's legs and placed his hands on the soles of Pete's bare feet to support himself. He thrust harder and harder. Less gentle now. Pete felt something well within him. His own cock was slapping wildly against his stomach. The thrusts were having an effect. He felt pleasure welling in his abdomen. The mystery guy gasped, his beautiful lips parted and he gave a cry. Pete realised that his young virile sperm must even now be flowing freely into his body. This was enough. He felt his own dick spurt, four times and his hairy stomach was coated with his own cum. The boy didn't pull out. He grabbed Pete's hands and pinned him down. He bent his handsome head and licked the streaming sweat and cum from Pete's chest and stomach. When he had eaten all of Pete's cum he rested his forehead, still beaded with sweat, against Pete's. 'See? Told you. You didn't need to touch yourself once'. They laughed.