Date: Sat, 29 Feb 2020 23:55:32 +0000 From: AP Webb Subject: D'n'M Part 2 Chapter 3 This is the second part of the story of Dan Reed and Milo de Beer -- D'n'M. As before, it includes scenes of sex between teenage boys and, in one instance, involving a boy and an adult man. However, sex is not the main driver of this story and often there is none at all. Part 2 consists of 21 chapters, all of which are written and which will appear on this platform twice each week. It will make more sense if you read Part 1 before starting on this second instalment. All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional. The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com D'n'M Part 2 From Chapter 2: The pre-cum leaking from the tip of Milo's dickhead made it easy for Tye's hand to begin a steady up and down stroking motion. This was like nothing Milo had ever felt before. His dick was awash with warmth and expectation from the tip to the root as Tye continued the masturbatory massage, simultaneously licking and nibbling the back of Milo's neck. With all his attention fixed on the parts of his body that were providing maximum pleasure, Milo was unaware of Tye's rigid seven inches being rubbed determinedly against his lower back. No, he was only conscious of the wonder of having another hand on his dick for the first time, the tightening of his balls in their hairless sack and the almost unbearable pleasure as they released their load, shooting four strong bursts of perfect teenage cum further than they had ever shot before. "That was the cum of a real champ." Milo could only nod in agreement. "Feel free to come back to see me any time you like." ********** Chapter 3. Within 48 hours the new equipment was delivered and D'n'M settled into a regular pattern of working out together at least three times each week after school and also on Saturday or Sunday mornings (sometimes both), depending on when Milo slept over. Roger Reed insisted that the two boys follow Tye's advice not to rush into pushing themselves too hard and to use on-line videos as guides to good form and posture. He also insisted that they should always work-out together whenever they were using the weights. As they were famously inseparable this was never an issue and had the added advantage, as far as Milo was concerned, of providing him with a legitimate reason to spend ever more time at Dan's house. Of course, this also provided his mother with yet more ammunition for her pretty much constant barrage of complaint, but his dad was unusually strong in his support of Milo's absence, in vocal opposition to his wife, although he was secretly saddened that his son spent less and less time at home. He was only too aware of the unhappy reality that, the less time Milo had to spend in the toxic atmosphere of the de Beer household, the better for him. He also knew that something had to give, and that whatever that might be would probably not be long in coming. The videos were really helpful in demonstrating exactly how to use the weights and carry out a whole range of cardio-vascular routines, but they were no substitute for what became, in Milo's eyes, the best part of their work-out sessions -- the hands-on part. The boys quickly established a routine whereby, having jointly decided what exercise or particular body part was to be the focus of each session, they would call up an appropriate video and then take it in turns to follow the on-line instructions. For the first few weeks, while one boy took up the position and began to move, the other would compare the on-screen footage with the real-life picture and then make suggestions regarding whatever adjustments were necessary. It wasn't long before the shortcomings of this arrangement were obvious to both D and M, at which point they agreed that it would be better if they both worked out shirtless and shortless, wearing just their compression shorts in order to provide maximum visibility of their musculature and moving bodies. Milo's long-held dream of having permission to stare at D's sweaty and pumped body was instantly gratified, with the result that their inevitable end-of-session jerk-off became the undisputed highlight of his day. One Friday evening, about three weeks into the new body-building and fitness regime, Dan completely surprised Milo by initiating a new, and as far as Milo was concerned, welcome refinement to their usual practice. They were working with the dumb bells, using them to give extra impact to their forward lunges. Milo was on his third or fourth rep when Dan suddenly told him to stop and freeze. "There's something not quite right there, M. How does it feel to you?" "Feels fine. What's the problem?" "Looking at the video, I think it's to do with your back leg extension. Do you mind if I...?" And without finishing the question or waiting for a reply, Dan had both hands on Milo's outstretched leg, one on his calf, the other on his thigh. The half of Milo's mind that had been only half awake, quietly anticipating the jerk-off session to come, was suddenly on full alert. This was definitely something new and worth getting excited about. `Get ready for action' signals were instantly sent to his sleeping dick, which immediately responded with an inrush of blood and expectation. Dan's hand -- the one on Milo's thigh and, therefore, dangerously close to his excited junk -- began to move, first squeezing the muscle and then applying gentle downward pressure. "I think you need to bend your knee more as you step forward. That should increase the stretch and make everything flex more. Try it." Milo's mind (well, half of it) was definitely fixed on flexing and stretching but not in the way that Dan was meaning. He could feel D's strong fingers trying their best to coax the leg into the required position, with both hands now on his thigh, one in front and the other behind. If only they'd move just a little higher, just a few more inches towards his ball sack, just a little nearer his twitching butt crack, just a ..... "Are you listening to me M?" Dan's question cut through Milo's reverie. "What? Oh, yeah. Something about stretching out." "Yeah, I can see what's stretching out, and it's not your leg." D's voice had laughter in it. "Don't you ever think of anything else? Get your mind out of the sewer and concentrate on getting this exercise right." "What can I say? I'm fourteen years old and constantly horny. What do you expect? And, of course," Milo continued sarcastically, "you never think about sex at all, Mr. Daniel H Reed, who is permanently obsessed with having his wicked way with `Big Tits' Harper." Dan shrugged. "That's different. That's love." "Ha! And I'm a fried chicken wing! Come on, D, it's time to face up to reality, it doesn't matter how much time you spend working out, Beth Harper is always gonna be way out of reach. And lucky for you, that's what I say." Dan adopted a hurt expression. "That's all you know." He gripped his own bicep. "My muscles are already getting bigger. Feel for yourself." So Milo did, barely believing that he'd been given permission to put his hands on D's body, even if only on one arm. This was a first. Sure, their workout sessions always ended up with them jerking-off together, but that was on a strictly `no touch' basis, each boy taking care of his own business. Yes, they would look -- at least, Milo always looked -- but there was an unspoken understanding that blowing a load was just what boys did together and that no greater significance applied. "And my abs -- I'm sure there's a six-pack coming. Feel." This was beyond anything Milo could ever have expected. True, he'd fantasised about a moment like this, a time when D would welcome Milo's touch, although, in his head, the moment had always been highly charged and sexual, the start of a long-lasting and romantic relationship. Oh well, he'd take whatever was on offer, however far from that fantasy ideal it might be. He ran his hands up and down Dan's torso, searching for the non-existent muscles. True, D's tummy was flat, with absolutely no excess fat, but it would be another twelve months of dedicated work-outs before the body he dreamed of began to take shape. "We-ell," Milo teased, "you're definitely not a little chubby puppy any more." Suddenly Milo found himself flat on his back on the floor with his hands pinned above his head and D's weight firmly planted on his abdomen. "Take that back, you dumb ass, or I'll spit on your face." This was their traditional childhood threat and, although Dan was smiling as he spoke, Milo knew it was for real and, much as he'd like to be swapping body fluids with his best friend and fantasy lover, this wasn't how he imagined that scenario developing. "Okay, maybe you're not a chubby puppy, but you're no Cristiano Ronaldo, either." "Fair enough. And you're no Michael Phelps." Honour satisfied, Dan released Milo and stood up, offering his work out partner a hand in order to pull him into standing too. Once they were both on their feet they continued with the work-out for another half hour, by which time they were ready to exercise one last, and very needy, muscle. They followed their usual pattern of wiping off their sweaty bodies and then collapsing, side by side, on Dan's bed. On every other occasion the next part of the ritual was for two pairs of compression shorts to be peeled half way down two pairs of adolescent thighs revealing two hard and pulsing teenage dicks, all this being accomplished in companionable silence. This time, however, they got no further than stage two (the bed) before Milo interrupted proceedings with a question. "Didn't that bother you?" "What?" "Me touching you." "No. Why should it?" Milo could hear the puzzlement in Dan's voice. "Weren't you weirded out by it? I mean, I'm gay and you're straight." "So what?" "So I like touching other boys. Not that I've had much practise, but you know what I mean. And you asked me to touch you on your arm and your body. I don't get it." "Yeah, I said you could touch me, not touch me up. There is a difference." "But weren't you worried I might get the wrong idea and start grabbing you in other places? Unless, of course, you really wanted me to ..." "What, grab my dick?" Dan was almost laughing, not at M but at what he'd just suggested. The idea that he'd want that to happen or that M would think to cross the line in that way was too stupid for words. "As if!" Both boys knew that this was a very odd conversation for them to be having but, equally, they both knew it was one that they needed to have. Although they were mutually confident in the rock solidity of their friendship, and even though they had never seriously discussed their differing sexual preferences since the day of the Big, Scary Conversation, they both recognised, in their still innocent but increasingly knowing fourteen-year-old way, that some further clarification was needed in order to secure the ground their relationship was built on. Without it, they both sensed, the bond and understanding between them might begin to weaken and that was a scenario they were both determined to avoid. "Do you mean do I spend every work-out session worrying that you might jump me?" "Well, yeah, sort of. I mean, isn't that what most straight guys think about us gays?" "First off, I'm not most straight guys, and you're not just gay. I'm D and you're M, best friends since we were four years old. I'd trust you with my life. How many people know about me and Beth?" "Er, one -- me." "Exactly. And besides, you sleep in my bed three or four nights a week. Would that happen if I was secretly afraid you were gonna try to force me to suck you off or stick your dick up my butt?" Milo inwardly winced at D's description of what constituted boy-on-boy sex, but he was also hugely relieved that he was obviously completely comfortable with their physical closeness and familiarity. "And another thing," Dan continued, "don't you think I know that you spend most of our jerk-off time staring at my dick?" This question caught Milo completely off guard. "What? Er, no. I don't do that," he protested. "Sure you do, but you're so busy watching me that you don't realise that I'm doing exactly the same." "What? You mean you watch me jerk-off?" "Yeah, sometimes. Yours is bigger than mine, and you've been jerking yours longer than me, so I watch to see what you do different. You know, new ways I could be doing it. Last time I spoke to Tom he said there are loads of techniques for jerking-off and that I should look on the internet. And I did. Jeez, who knew there were so many ways of bringing yourself off?" Milo was now officially stunned. "You want to see how I do it? So you can copy me?" "Yeah. Haven't you ever noticed that, loads of times, I'm doing exactly the same as you?" "Can't say that I have. Wow. That's so cool. Milo the Master Masturbator giving lessons to his `little' pal! That's made my day." "Who are you calling little? My friend here is getting bigger every day. And right now he's wondering why there's been no action for the past five minutes." "Yeah," agreed Milo, "these dicks need their daily workout too." Although both boys had been idly playing with their dicks inside their compression shorts all the time they'd been talking, by now they were barely more than half hard, but a couple of minutes of undisturbed massage brought them back to full tumescence. "You going for a quickie today?" asked Dan "Hadn't thought about it. Anything you particularly need The Master's guidance with?" came the reply. "Let's not rush things like we usually do. Why not see who can make it last the longest." Dan was keen to take this opportunity to cement their new understanding. "Most certainly young Paduwan. A good idea that is." ********** Many thanks to those readers who take the trouble to contact me about this story. As an author, it's REALLY encouraging to know that there are people out there who are taking the time to read what's been written, and then bothering to send a response. I welcome all comments and guarantee to write back. 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