Date: Mon, 8 Feb 2021 00:15:02 +0000 From: AP Webb Subject: D'n'M Part 4 Chapter 12 All the characters and events in this 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 PJ D'n'M Part 4 From Chapter 11: His right hand travelled south and slipped under the twin waist-bands of his sweatpants and boxer-briefs, expertly homing-in on the limp inches that lay in there in the warm mugginess. Several minutes of well-practiced fondling and stroking of both dick and balls followed. Nothing happened, no thickening, no lengthening, no stiffening. Nothing! Fuck! Time for some mental back-up. The stroking continued but now there were images of Christy projected onto the inside of his eye-lids, Christy topless, Christy, naked, Christy panting and calling his name, Christy cumming to a screaming climax. Fuuuuck! Still nothing, dick still limp and disinterested, still lifeless and dormant. Oh Milo, where were you when a guy needed you? ********** Chapter 12: He knew he wasn't supposed to leave school premises during the lunch break but, as far as Milo was concerned, this was an emergency. Part way through the morning's art class, when he should have been concentrating on the still life arrangement of fruit and flowers that he was supposed to be drawing, his mind (both halves) was enjoying a very stimulating fantasy detour. He was imagining how that afternoon's shave session with Grey might go -- a best-case scenario. In his mind he was gently initiating this boy, who he had begun to realise could easily become a very important part of his life, into the finer details of mutual body shaving. He pictured himself carefully applying shaving foam to the area between tummy button and Speedo waist-band including, perhaps, some `accidental' brushing of Grey's perfect Speedo-covered teenage bulge, and then, oh-so-gently, pulling the razor through the foam, leaving behind a trail of evenly tanned and newly-hairless skin just crying out to be kissed and ... It was at this point in his increasingly adults-only-rated mental movie that the emergency occurred to him, when he became aware of a major flaw in his fantasy. The shave session was due to happen at his house after school (he had, eventually, sent Grey a confirmatory text), following the same pattern that his own first mutual shaving experience had taken place at Dods' house. Yes, at Dods' house, using Dods' shaving stuff -- razor and foam - stuff that couldn't be found at the de Beer house for the simple reason that Milo hadn't really started needing to shave yet (at least, not his face) and on the occasions he did feel the need to get rid of the soft fluff that accumulated above his upper lip and on his chin, say every three or four weeks, he used his dad's electric shaver. He didn't think Gerry de Beer would be impressed if his trusty Philips, which he'd had since he was a teenager, was used to remove the intimate body hair of Milo's swimming team-mate. And that was quite apart from the likely safety issues of mixing water and electricity. No, his dad's shave stuff was totally not an option, so Milo's only choice was this clandestine lunchtime trip to the pharmacy to buy the necessary supplies. Before leaving the school premises he'd spoken briefly to D, outlining his problem and the proposed solution and asking D to cover for him if he was late getting back. D had seemed a bit off, he had all morning, but Milo put that down to him being unhappy that they hadn't had their usual `good night' phone chat. If he'd known that D was experiencing a crisis of his own, about his date with Christy, he'd have abandoned the pharmacy trip in order to concentrate on providing a shoulder to lean on, but he had no idea how anxious D was and so he carried on with his emergency dash. Forty minutes later as he slipped back into school, Milo felt strangely different, as if his trip to the pharmacy had changed him in some way. It was true that, as he had taken the can of foam and packet of disposable razors to the checkout, he'd been conscious of doing something for the first time, and not just an ordinary something but something somehow significant. Thinking about it as he returned to school it occurred to him that shaving stuff was grown-up stuff, not kids' stuff. So that must mean that, if not yet a fully paid up member of the grown-up squad, he was definitely no longer a young kid. Was this one of those rights of passage they'd read about in English Lit? Did it mean he would have to start acting more sensible and responsible, i.e. be more boring? Ha! Fat chance of that, not while he was constantly at the mercy of the two competing halves of his mind and almost permanently horny no matter which half was in charge at the time. Afternoon classes dragged by until, at last, the final bell rang out and several hundred teens ran out, of school that is. D knew all about M's plans for the next hour or so but desperately hoped he'd have time to come over to the Reed house to help D get ready for his date the following evening. M agreed he'd do exactly that once he and Grey had `done the shaving deed', as Milo had laughingly described it. Dan realised he'd have to be content with that half promise. As Friday wore on, so the knot in the middle of his stomach seemed to get tighter and bigger. After the first few text salvos of the day from Christy - Were things still okay for tomorrow evening? Had he sorted a table reservation? (it would be the weekend after all and bound to be busy). Did he mind that she'd switched from blue to pink (apart from her cut-offs, of course)? Had he decided what to wear yet? - after these questions he switched off his phone, and when she'd found him on the way to science and asked why he'd not been replying, he'd lied and said he'd had his phone confiscated in French because of all the messages he was receiving. Euugh! This was crazy. He was supposed to be totally stoked at the prospect of his first date, with all its unknown yet exciting possibilities. Instead, here he was lying and stressed and almost ready to call the whole thing off. What, when they had talked so comfortably at the party, had seemed to be something quite low-key and casual seemed to have turned into a major production number. How did that happen? Was this what dating was like? He wasn't sure he liked it. Dan presented a thoroughly disconsolate figure as he grabbed his bike and set off for home, his mood darkening even further as he found himself wishing that M had never met Grey, had never joined the swimming team, had never developed friendships other than with Dan himself. He was even beginning to wish that he had never met Christy. How pathetic was that? It was as he was kicking these thoughts around in his head for the hundredth time that he looked up and realised that he wasn't on the road to his own house, instead he was only a few hundred metres away from Milo's. What was that about? If he'd carried on in the same direction instead of hurriedly doubling back towards home, Dan would have been in time to see Milo and Grey arrive at the de Beer house. He would have seen them chatting comfortably together, smiling, making positive eye contact, in fact looking as if they'd been besties forever. Once inside the house, and with the completion of the usual niceties - the shucking off of footwear, deciding what to drink and raiding the fridge - Milo led Grey up to his room. If anyone had asked him what he was thinking as the two of them climbed the stairs they would have received one of two answers, depending on which half of M's mind was in charge at the moment the question was asked. One answer would have been that Milo wanted Grey's introduction to mutual body shaving to be as non-stressful as possible and that, as the team's vice-captain, it was his responsibility to ensure that his team-mate went home feeling cool about the whole procedure. The other answer would have made it very clear that Milo couldn't wait for his body to be showered in Grey's cum! And who knew how Grey would have answered the same question? Perhaps the next hour or so would provide some clues. Momentarily leaving Grey in his room, Milo made a quick detour to put the shaving stuff in the bathroom, then he fired up his elderly games console, threw Grey a controller and set in motion Resident Evil, the game that was already loaded. "Wanna play?" he questioned. Grey stood in the middle of the room, looking around at Milo's space. In the short time that he had to take it all in he assessed it as being remarkably like what he'd imagined. In one corner a bed, still exactly as it had been when Milo left for school, with a couple of non-matching socks visible underneath (he wondered if they were used for the same purpose as the one under his own bed), walk-in wardrobe in another corner (one half of a pair of Vans wedged in the door, stopping it from closing), desk under the window (blue and white striped Roman blind matching the bed cover) with open laptop, printer, reading lamp and various school books more or less tidily organised on top, waste-paper basket under the desk surrounded by several screwed up tissues, bookshelves along the wall opposite the bed with screen, dvd's, books, trophies etc. (i.e. the usual). The inventory of contents was completed by a white wicker laundry basket with a black T-shirt and green towel, both hanging part in and part out, and a battered-looking rocking chair in which was sitting an equally battered teddy bear. A pin board above the desk was covered in sticky notes, a time-table, several photos and two or three dog-eared postcards of seaside views. Yes, all pretty predictable, but then there were the posters, new-looking and striking images of Zebra Katz, Tom Daley and Gus Kenworthy looked down from the wall above the bed. Good choices in Grey's opinion. "Actually Milo," Grey began, "If it's okay with you, could we play after the shaving? I'd prefer to get that done." "Oh, okay," replied Milo, surprised at how confident Grey sounded. "No problem. Before we go to the bathroom though there's a coupla things I need to tell you." "Yeah? Go ahead." responded Grey, still sounding more upbeat than Milo had expected of this virgin shaver. "Yeah, so, you know why we're here?" Grey nodded. "So you know things are gonna get pretty personal." Grey nodded again, this time with the hint of a smile on his face. Milo was surprised, again. Grey obviously wasn't anywhere near as nervous as he'd expected him to be. "Well I just want you to know that I don't expect you to do anything you're not comfortable with and we'll stop at any point you like." "Oh, I don't think there's anything we could do that would make me feel uncomfortable," Grey assured him. "I've been looking forward to it and I completely trust you." Milo didn't at all know how to take that. This really wasn't what he'd been expecting and he was feeling slightly unnerved by how things were going. "Right then," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Follow me." Milo led the way across the landing to the bathroom. Over breakfast he'd mentioned to his dad that a team-mate would be coming home with him after school but he didn't explain exactly why. After his morning shower and wake-up boner-relief he'd left ready the things he had actually thought about -- towels and a couple of Speedos -- safe in the knowledge that his dad would use his own bathroom so would have no need to go in here. As the two boys entered Grey saw the stuff that had been left that morning, plus the foam and razors Milo had dropped off just a few minutes before. "Looks like you've got all the bases covered," he commented. "Not sure what the Speedos are for though." "In case you didn't bring any," Milo explained. "I didn't bring any, but that's because I assumed we'd be naked. Did I get that wrong? I thought the idea was to shave off all our body hair." There he went again, surprising Milo with his self-assurance. Grey was no innocent young nervy kid, he realised. "Er, well, that's an option for sure. Some of the guys go for it but it's not expected. Ms. B ..." Milo didn't get to finish his sentence. "The Ballbreaker thinks hair can slow you down so she wants it off, yeah, I know, but I heard the idea was to have some fun at the same time. I haven't got that wrong, have I?" No, definitely not nervy or innocent. If Milo had been a sailing ship he would have had the wind knocked out of his sails. He had no idea what to say. Unsurprisingly Grey did. "Milo, I'd like to be upfront with you. Is that okay?" Milo nodded warily. What was coming next? He soon found out as Grey continued. "I'm gay." Wow! Just like that. "I don't know whether you'd guessed. You must have seen me looking at you during our coaching sessions, and I know you've noticed how often I've got hard. It's not easy to hide a boner in a Speedo." Milo listened, fascinated. This kid had balls! (Pun only partly intended.) And yes, he had noticed the frequent hard-ons. He was also aware of the one that was developing at that very moment inside his own underwear. He thought he ought to try to reassure Grey, not that much reassurance seemed to be needed. He was so self-confident. Milo was way impressed. "Whether you're gay or straight is not my business." "Nice of you to say, but I'm hoping you'd like it to be your business." "What do you mean?" Milo's answer was even more wary but he wasn't stupid. He was 99% sure he knew exactly what Grey meant but he needed to slow things down and get a grip (hopefully of his boner). The situation was quickly getting way out of his control. "It means I was completely stoked when Dods paired us up for shaving. It was exactly what I'd been hoping for. All the weeks we've been training together I'd go home afterwards and have the most amazing cums. And when you confirmed what everyone already knew, that you're gay too, well, I thought I'd won the lottery." During this short speech Grey had moved closer and closer to Milo. By the end of it they were only inches apart. "Milo, I know how these shave sessions end, with us both covered in each other's cum." "Huh? How'd you know that?" "Jamal told me. And he said it's when I officially become a Cum Brother. Way cool. But Milo, you've got me so boned-up that if I don't cum soon I'm gonna explode." Milo felt his right hand being taken and firmly placed between Grey's legs. The boy wasn't joking. He was seriously hard. "Can we do the shaving thing after?" He was pleading now. "Right now I really, really need to unload. You can do whatever you like to me, just make me cum!" Milo was speechless. Although what was happening was just what he'd been hoping for, the way the situation was developing was so far beyond any scenario he could ever have imagined, it might just as well have been in another galaxy. He was literally in two minds. (Nothing new there.) Luckily for both boys one half quickly took charge. In seconds flat they were standing in the middle of the bathroom, both naked, Grey with his back leaning against Milo's front and with his rock-hard boner firmly grasped in Milo's right hand. In front of them was the full-length bathroom mirror (funny how often one of those turns up in this story) so they could both see the pre-cum that had taken no time at all in making an appearance at the end of Grey's excited five inches. "Oh please, Milo, do it. Jerk me off. I've been dreaming of this for weeks. Do it. Make me cum. Pleease!" The half of Milo's mind that had taken charge of the situation didn't let him enjoy the feeling of Grey's strong back leaning against his chest or of his own rigid, upstanding dick being sandwiched between their two bodies, or even of Grey's rounded butt nestled just below Milo's balls -- time for that sort of indulgence later -- now the priority was to take this beautiful boy to his own private Nirvana, and to achieve that all he had to do was start to stroke. So he did, the movement aided by the aforementioned natural lubrication which oozed out and down, coating both the dick and the hand that was massaging it. How long did it take? Two, three minutes? Maybe not even that long before Grey's chest was heaving, his hips were pumping, his breathing was gasping, his knees were buckling. "Oh fuuuuck! Yes! ... Yes! ... " And before the third scream of affirmation could be uttered Milo had released Grey's dick, spun him round, re-grabbed the now quivering member and pointed it squarely at his own naked tummy. "YES!!!" Two spurts, thin but strong, erupted from Grey as his knees finally gave way and he fell forward onto Milo's chest and into his arms. "Thank you," Grey gasped. "That was fucking awesome. The best cum EVER! I knew it would be." This was said as he slowly slipped from Milo's arms and slid, more or less gracefully, onto the bathroom floor. Milo was left staring at his reflection where he could see his still rigid dick and the spattering of Grey's cum gently sliding down towards his carefully trimmed pubic hair. Then, as he watched, he saw Grey push himself off the floor into a kneeling position, directly in front of him. This meant, of course, that he could no longer see the lower half of his body reflected in the mirror and, when Grey told him to shut his eyes, he couldn't see anything at all. And that was okay because he didn't need to be able to see to know that Grey was hungrily licking the cum from where it had gathered in his pubes and at the base of his dick where it joined his torso. And he didn't need to see to know that Grey's tongue was travelling up the steel-hard shaft of his boner. And he didn't need to see to know when the head was being wrapped in the warm, wet cavern of Grey's mouth. And he definitely didn't need to see to know that a gallon of cum was about to flood the wonderful new home his dick had been welcomed into. "Grey, I'm gonna burst. Let me out. For you to be a Cum Brother my cum needs to land on you. Quick. Let me out!" If Grey heard the urgency in Milo's voice he chose to ignore it. There was no way he was going to let his first experience of his hero's jizz be wasted. He'd still got the taste of his own cum in his mouth and he wanted to be able to compare. He was positive Milo's would be better, he wasn't sure in what way but he just knew it was going to be an improvement on his own watery offering. He didn't have to wait long. As Milo began to groan, a sure sign that he was close to the moment of climax, Grey slapped both hands on Milo's butt cheeks to make sure he couldn't pull away. He didn't know that the half of Milo's mind that was 100% in charge had no intention of removing his dick from the heaven it had found itself in -- maybe not ever! And Milo cummed! Crap, how he cummed. Great gobbets of thick, tangy cum overwhelmed Grey's mouth, threatening to drown him there and then and, determined though he was to make the most of this never-to-be-repeated first time experience, Grey had no choice but to open his mouth to release some of that humungous load while he was still able to do so. When Milo finally opened his eyes (they'd been closed all this time, something he'd remember to try again in the future) he looked down to see Grey's face covered in a beaming smile and rivers of cum that poured out of the corners of his mouth and down from his nose. Milo sank to his knees so the two boys were more or less on a level and started to mop up the streams of cum with his tongue. His mouth moved closer and closer to Grey's until their lips lightly brushed together. Grey sighed. Milo's heart skipped a beat. The lips gently met again and this time they didn't move apart. There was no frantic meeting of tongues, no frenzied grabbing of faces, no desperate and overwhelming urgency. No, there were none of those things, instead there was a surge of whole-body tingling and a quiet acceptance that this was something that they both wanted more than they could begin to understand or explain. It was like magic. ********** To keep this amazing resource open and freely available to readers everywhere, please consider donating to: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I really appreciate and enjoy the messages I get from readers and I'll be very happy to reply if you'd like to get in touch.