Date: Sun, 26 Jan 2014 15:09:03 +0000
From: Bruce <sourceskid@hotmail.com>
Subject: Nova Scotia 3

While I moved out of the small town once my parents' divorce was finalized
and back to Ontario, I continued to spend summers in Nova Scotia sailing in
the capital city of Halifax.

For some reason when I was 17 the sailing school decided to introduce a bit
of democracy into the program.  They created a position of 'chief petty
officer' that all the sailing students at the yacht club would elect, and
he would be given duties as the sailing instructors saw fit.

For some reason in both my school life and holiday life I had begun to hang
out with boys who were younger than me, so when it came to election I won
overwhelmingly.  All the younger kids (of which there were far more than
older kids) voted for me.  I would be surprised if anyone in my advanced
sailing program voted for me, but it didn't matter, I had this fancy new
title and part of my duties turned out to be to keep the younger kids in
line (make sure they pulled their boats out of the water at the end of the
day, put them away properly and didn't get into too much mischief as they
did) so I had an excuse to hang around the younger kids without anyone
thinking I was being weird.

It's not like I set out to hang out with them because of my interest in
teen sex.  In fact, their interest in sex, or at least their interest in
one another's sexual organs, I found kinda awkward.

Younger boys are obsessed with penises.  And I was too at 17 but for
different reasons.  I now knew I liked cock.  But I was also very conscious
of the fact that some of these boys were pre-pubescent and even those who
could cum still had cocks much smaller than mine.  So the attention they
paid to each other's crotches and, because I was considered one of them, to
mine, could be awkward.

For example, one day I was in white shorts, dark blue briefs underneath (I
had started to buy my own underwear so had moved away from the classic
white briefs that my mother always bought me) and a white polo shirt.
Because of the way the shorts folded when I sat (they tented up in front)
it looked like I had a hard-on - or would have looked like I had a hard-on
if I had been 12 year old with a little cock that stuck straight-up to
about 3 inches and only half-an-inch wide - and one of the younger kids (of
whom I was fond, was probably around 10 years old and who used to follow me
around like a puppy dog) pointed at the fabric it and started chanting "you
have a boner".  The attention he was paying to my crotch did actually give
me a hard-on, which resulted in smoothing out the front of my shorts as my
6" hard cock pushed against the zipper making the front entirely curved out
in front from crotch to waist.  Since there was no longer a small pouch of
fabric sticking straight-up he said, when some people started to pay
attention, "it's gone now" (when ironically I was now rock hard and if he
knew what an adult boner looked like he would have been aghast - I know I
was aghast at being hard in front of everyone).

I knew from the beginning of the summer that being around these boys with
their fixation on penises was going to be a challenge, especially since I
would spring a boner with very little provocation (being as horny a boy as
I was).

My solution came with one boy, Reese.  He was 15 and would turn 16 during
the summer, so he was one of the older boys.  He was also an advanced
sailor, so he was in my level of sailing.

All the boys and girls in my sailing-level watched me with the younger
kids, but most looked at me with scorn, like 'what you possibly have in
common with these kids' and 'why are you wasting your time'.  Reese seemed
to watch me more intently than most, but out of curiosity not scorn.  He
seemed to openly wonder why all these kids were so keen on me.  After all,
they had just overwhelmingly voted me CPO whereas as some of the better and
more respected sailors who had also stood for election had gone down to
humiliating defeat.

Life is a popularity contest and I was popular with the younger sailors,
probably because, unlike the older and better sailors, I didn't talk down
to anyone and I was genuinely interested in what everyone had to say or ask
and would commend them when they did well, tried something new or even just
had a good day.  They were there to learn and, while I wasn't an
instructor, I hoped to be one someday.  So I had nothing but patience for
the kids in the levels lower than I was - after all, I'd been there and,
being from out of province, I had been lonely with no friends when I had
started in the program (I still pretty much was without any real friends).

Reese was not from out of province.  He not only was from Halifax, he lived
right across the water - the body of water called the 'arm' because of the
shape of the basin - from the yacht club.

Reese was cute, though I must admit I didn't look at him sexually at first
as there were much hotter boys in the club.  He wasn't my usual type.  He
was a smaller than me.  He could have passed as 14 (if I didn't know he was
almost 16 and he hadn't been in my sailing level).  It is not that he was
petit.  He actually had quite an athletic build.  He was compact, almost
square in build (with his hips being almost as wide as his entire torso up
to his shoulders which were only slightly wider).  I figured he would, if
he didn't already or if he wanted to in the future once he grew a few
inches in height, play football and be quite the powerhouse.

He had reddish brown hair, a few freckles and two dimples, which made him
look a bit like a cherub when he smiled.  It was only once he and I started
crewing together on a yacht that I began to look at him more closely and
realized he didn't have an ounce of fat on him and that, at 5'7" inches, he
had a tight compact body covered in a veil of cuteness due to the dimples
and the pale skin colouring of a partial-ginger.

The great thing about sailing at a yacht club is not only the getting to be
out on the water with the kids taking the courses and competing in mock
races all day long, with the fresh air and wind and spray in your hair.  It
was also that the adults who were club members would often be looking for
crew and if you played your cards right you could end-up crewing on a very
expensive yacht.

The club races, which are true for many yacht clubs, were on Wednesday and
Sunday nights, and with my mother's help (who would make friends with
everyone) I quickly found myself with a permanent spot crewing for two
dentists who owned a 24 foot yacht.  They only raced on Wednesdays, but
that was fine with me because just getting to crew on expensive larger boat
was thrilling.

As I said, Reese had been watching me and while I noticed his attention
during school, I didn't know how closely he had been following my comings
and goings until he came up to me on Wednesday after that day's classes,
when we were pulling the boats out of the water, and asked if the boat I
crewed on needed another hand.

I told him to hang around and I would ask, and it turned out that the two
dentists who I sailed with were quite keen on the idea.  A 24-ft boot is
not a big boat (its pretty much the smallest yacht you can buy).  I was
getting pretty big at only 5'9 ?" (not as tall as the dentists, one of whom
was over 6'), but Reese was compact so adding another person would not make
a big difference.  This gave the owners two extra sets of hands and, as we
were racing and studying sailing during the day, we brought with us a fresh
set of eyes for strategy.  So it came to pass that Reese and I would, every
Wednesday, sail with the two dentists and, as time went on, we actually
started to do quite well.  We never took first place, but we won them a
couple second and third place pennants.

Sailing together on Wednesdays made me notice Reese in a way I otherwise
might not have.  I was a horny guy, and all I could think of 24/7 was boys.
So when at sailing I was constantly checking out the boys.  This would have
driven me to diversion so I came up with the practice of identifying the
two or three hottest boys there that day first thing in the morning and
then focussing my attention only on them.  I would look at their crotches
when they weren't looking, watch their muscles as they rigged their boats
or sailed them, and check out their asses as they bent over to batten
something down or hiked over the side of the boat to level it.  I would
take the images of these three boys home to jack off to at night, usually
focussing on either the boy I thought was hottest or the one I had the best
visuals of from that day as I stroked one off before sleep.

Alone (well with the dentists but they don't count) I had to admit Reese
was definitely cute.  Up until crewing together on the yacht, he hadn't
been one of my three hottest.  But being alone on the boat with him, he was
the hottest on the boat and I found myself checking him out non-stop.  He
usually sat across from me in the cockpit, unless it was really windy and
we would be on the same windward side next to me stretched out trying to
level the boat; so when he was across from that meant I could casually
glance under the main sail (which would often be blocking him from seeing
my head and thus where my eyes were focused) to stare at his crotch and
when he was next to me hiking out, I would brush against him and could
glance down at his crotch which he was thrusting up as he leaned over the
side of the boat.

Whether Reese was wearing shorts or long pants, the front of his jeans
always looked stuffed.  Being a compact guy, he had solid thighs, so I
concluded that his thighs probably accounted for some of the bulge as it
pushed his balls and cock up into the pouch between his two thighs.  He
was, after all, only 15.  Though I wondered how big he was as it looked
like he had an ample size cock and balls.  Every Wednesday night when I got
home and got in bed I would jack off thinking of that bulge and wonder what
was actually stuffing his pants so full.

So over the following two weeks, I found myself watching Reese's crotch
more and more.  It began with when were on the water crewing and then it
progressed to my checking him out head to toe more fully when we were on
land.  I even found myself checking him out during the day at sailing.  He
had a nice body.  Where I had previously ignored him due to his small
stature, his compactness was now making me hot for him as I pictured this
tight naked body, with a big cock, looking firm from head to toe.  Somehow
he had moved into my top three and that meant, at night, I found myself
frequently jacking off thinking about him.

As the dentists didn't sail on Sundays, Reese suggested one day that I come
hang out at his place on a Sunday.  That was great by me.  Not being from
Nova Scotia, I had no friends outside of sailing school and while I was
popular with the young kids, neither I nor they ever suggested we get
together outside of the program.

Reese's house was huge, down by the water as it was.  His father, it turns
out, was a surgeon and his mother was involved in tons of activities being
a doctors' wife.  His younger sister had her own busy life so Reese pretty
much did his own thing.

The first Sunday he showed me around his house and then took me around the
neighbourhood which was filled with big homes on the water and it ended in
a huge public park that went out to the end of the point, something I had
seen from our boats when we sailed but had never explored myself.  I could
see why his home was one of the most expensive in Halifax.

We agreed to hang out the next weekend, and decided that there was no
reason it had to be just Sunday as we had nothing to do on Saturday either.
So I promised to come over to his place that Saturday afternoon, something
I reconfirmed both when we crewed on Wednesday night and at the end of the
sailing course on Friday.

Saturday ended up raining, but when I phoned to postpone, he suggested I
come over anyway and we could find something to do inside.  I got dropped
off and soon we were in the basement trying to come-up with things that
would fill the day.

We watched some TV, but Saturday TV is pretty lame, being either cartoons
aimed at children or sports which, while Reese seemed knowledgeable about
and genuinely interested, I was neither.

I went through his board games, but most required three or more players,
not surprising given that his was a family of four.

We settled on cards.  I taught him how to play Hearts and he taught me how
to play Go-Boom.  Before long the afternoon had gone and we hadn't even
noticed.  We only clued in because his mother phoned to say his dad was
called in to a surgery and she was going to have dinner at the club and we
should fend for ourselves when it came to supper.

I hadn't originally planned to stay for supper, and when I mentioned that,
he passed the phone on to me to talk to his mother and she suggested I call
my mom to see if I could stay and proposed I stay the night since his
sister was at a sleepover at a friend's place and she and her husband
wouldn't be home until late.  She thought it would be good for Reese to
have company rather than him being all alone in that big house.

I phoned my mom, who was fine with it, though she pointed out I had no
clean clothes or my toothbrush.  Reese suggested he could find both (though
as he was much shorter I had no idea what clothes he could offer me).

We ended up ordering pizza.  After it arrived in less than 30 minutes (so
it wasn't free), we had wolfed it down, tidied up and we went back to the
basement.  Failing to find something interesting on TV, Reese suggested we
play some more cards.

I explained I didn't know any other games and Reese mischievously suggested
we play poker.  I figured the smirk on his face came from the fact he was
clearly rich and would be able to outbid me no matter what, but he obvious
family wealth asside the simple reality was I had no money on me.

"We could play for clothes," ventured Reese.

"You mean strip-poker," I answered, and while I tried to sound surprised,
the idea definitely appealed to me.  I had spent every Wednesday staring at
the package in the front of his jeans (or shorts) wondering what was behind
that ample bulge and now was an opportunity to find out.

But what if I lost?  I was self-conscious of having a cock and balls that
was bigger than the other boys I hung out with and while Reese was close to
me in age, only two years younger and clearly packing something that was
impressive for his age and his stocky build, I didn't relish the idea of me
being naked and he being fully clothed.

"We need to have the same number of clothes," I started; and we quickly
agreed that we would each have the same amount of clothing with each sock
and our belts counting as one each (he removed his sweater to even our
number of clothes).

"Do we deal full hands and bet like we have chips, but throwing our clothes
in the middle only to retrieve them if we win," I asked, not clear on how
it would work. "Do you get to put clothes back on if you win the hand?" I
asked.

"How about we just deal two cards, lowest card takes off a piece of
clothing," he said.

"And the loser is the one who is naked at the end," I asked.

"Yea," he answered.

"There should be a grand prize," I suggested.

"Like what," he asked.

"How about the loser has to give the winner a massage," I ventured.

This way, I thought, if I lost and was naked, he would have to remove most
of his clothes too so I could give him a massage.

He agreed, which in hindsight should not have been surprising because he
was the one who had proposed strip-poker and, if I really thought about it,
he had been the one watching me so intently since the beginning of the
summer and he had proposed sailing with me and me coming over to his house.
Being so shallowly interested in seeing him naked, I had missed all the
signs that he actually really liked me and probably was scheming to see me
naked too.

So we set out to play strip-poker there in the basement of his house.
Before long he was sitting there his t-shirt and briefs, having lost his
socks, belt and pants in four of the first seven hands (during which I had
only lost my socks and belt).

He was wearing a pair of solid green briefs with a white waistband, with
the word Stanfield (which I guess shouldn't have surprised me since
Stanfield's was a famous Nova Scotia brand of underwear,).  Where I had
thought his strong thighs might have been pushing his cock and balls up in
his pants making them appear bigger, now that he was sitting cross-legged
in only his briefs it was clear that he had an ample package.

Much as I wanted to massage him, I couldn't wait to see him naked, so I was
hoping he would lose the next two hands.  It was not to be.

I lost three in a row, first removing my shirt (I was scared about removing
my pants because watching him sitting there in his briefs I was worried I
would get a hard-on as soon as my pants came off), then my pants (luckily I
didn't get an erection right away) and finally, standing up to remove my
blue briefs and exposing myself fully to Reese, I was naked.

Thankfully my cock behaved itself, and I was able to not spring a boner
even when I was fully naked, but it took all my concentration not to.

"Do we play one more hand for the grand prize or do I get my massage now,"
he asked.

I hadn't thought that far ahead, but the idea of more hands was appealing
because I desperately wanted to see under those briefs and at most I could
only at this stage suggest he remove his t-shirt for me to give him a
massage.

"We need to play separate for the grand prize, of course," I countered,
even though the idea was brand-new to me.

My luck was amazing and off came Reese's t-shirt with the next hand and,
with baited breath, I waited as he dealt the next cards.  When I won I
couldn't help it, my cock started to harden even before he was fully on his
feet and beginning to shove his green briefs down his legs.

Reese' cock was amazing and all I had hoped it would be.  He was a good 3-3
?" cut soft, but thick so it looked half as wide as it did long.  It lay
pointing straight down on an ample set of balls as he shucked his briefs
off his ankles.  His reddish brown pubes were not as thick as mine, but
they seemed to be fully in.  His body was smooth though there were a few
red hairs between his navel and his pubes.

Reese sat back down cross-legged across from me, his cock and balls hanging
impressively between his legs.  I had moved my hands to in front of me, to
hide my cock which was, without my permission, getting hard.  Of course it
was my turn to deal.

Normally I would take both hands and shuffle the deck, but I didn't want
him to see my lengthening cock, so I simply took one hand and cut the deck
and showed him the card I had lifted with half the deck.  It was a queen of
spades.

"Go ahead and cut," I said, which he did getting a seven of diamonds.

"Guess you are getting the massage," he said.

I quickly moved onto my stomach hoping he didn't see my hard cock as I
moved to lie prostate hiding my boner under my body.

Without further prompting Reese sat on my ass.  I could feel his balls and
his soft cock against my ass cheeks as he sat down, something that made me
even harder (if that was possible).  He began to massage my shoulders and
back.

He was really good, not that I had anything to compare it with.  I just
know that I found myself relaxing (well, my back and shoulders relaxing
anyway, my cock didn't feel like it would ever relax short of jacking off,
which I had no idea how I could sneak off and do on my own without him
seeing my boner and realizing what I was up to).

After a good length of time working on my back, shoulders and arms, Reese
got off me and I thought we had finished (returning my sense of panic about
how do I get up with a hard-on).  He then straddled and sat down again on
my ass again but facing the other way, and began to work on my legs, calves
and thighs.

In working my thighs he pushed my legs slightly apart and I could feel his
fingers brush against my balls as he worked up the inseam.  I don't know if
this was intentional or just him being thorough.  But it felt amazing and
it sent shivers through my entire body every time he made fleeting contact
with my balls.

After working on my legs for a while, he scooted off me and, kneeling next
to me said "roll over."

Panic gripped me.  If I rolled over he would see my hard-on.  Of course if
I got up or did anything else he would too.

When I didn't move or response he said "Bruce, look at me."

I turned my head to the side and looked at him sitting back on his folded
legs next to me and when our eyes connected he moved his eyes to look down
at his own lap and my eyes followed.  There was his cock, rock hard and
sticking straight up.

I couldn't guess how long his cock was, because he was squatting, so half
of it and his balls were between his thighs, but it came up to his navel,
which was more than mind did (mine stopped a few centimetres beneath my
navel when hard).  It definitely suited him, solid and, while not square
(because it was obviously longer than it was thick) it was impressively
thick, much thicker than mine.  In fact, the shaft was about the same
thickness as the head, with the exception of the little up curl just at the
base of his cockhead, which on him made the head distinguishable from the
shaft (that plus the bright red colour of his cockhead, accented by his
reddish pubes, which was in contrast to the pinkness of his shaft which
matched the pinkness of the rest of his smooth body).

He was as horny as I was which he was showing me by getting me to look,
letting me know I should have no qualms about rolling over and showing him
my hard cock.  I still had many qualms, but I was way too horny to stop
now.

I rolled over onto my back, exposing my 6" cock.  He straddled me and sat
down on my upper thighs, his balls resting on mine and his cock and mine
almost touching at the base (which allowed me to compare our two cocks: he
was about the same length as me, though thicker in the shaft whereas mine
was thicker than his at the head).  He then went back to massaging me as
though nothing had changed.

He worked on my shoulders and arms and chest and stomach.  I couldn't help
myself and I kept looking at his cock and then up into his eyes.  He seemed
intent on doing a good job massaging me but, when our eyes would
occasionally connect and he would catch me looking at his cock, he would
break into a big smile.

Eventually he turned around, so his ass was pointed towards me and went to
work on my legs, first my feet and then up my legs to my thighs.  To work
on my thighs he had to slide his ass up my body, so he ended up sitting on
the head of my hard cock which drove me insane, but he made no comment or
reaction to indicate that he noticed we were doing anything out of the
ordinary.

He spent a great deal of time on my thighs, getting the muscles to relax,
before working his way to my inner thighs and pulling those muscles up
towards my crotch where his fingers came into contact with my balls without
overtly touching them.

While he was doing this, I kept looking at his firm round ass, and the head
of my cock which was just barely visible sandwiched between his ass cheeks.

There was not a hair on his ass, which may be due to his being 15 or it
could be part of being a ginger.  It was round and firm and muscular, like
his entire body.  That compactness made him seem so masculine, even though
he was younger and smaller than me and he was sitting naked on my lap.

When he finished he once again moved to kneel next to me, his hard cock
sticking straight up.

"Do you want to play again," he asked, "or would it be alright if I just
sucked you."

I was taken aback.  First of all I was usually the one servicing other
boys.  Second, he was so forward, far more than I think I would have had
the guts to be at his age.  But third, the way he asked was almost
pleading, like it was something he had thought about doing for some time.

I had been checking him out under the mainsail ever Wednesday evening
wondering about his cock and now it turns out he had been doing the same
about mine.  Maybe he had been thinking of my cock even before we began
crewing together, as I had been aware of him watching me almost from the
start of the summer.

"It would be more than alright," I said.

Reese knelt over me and gently took my cock in his hand.  He pressed it
against his cheek, almost like he was hugging it, and then began to lick it
from top to bottom, diverting his licking off to each of my balls when he
was at the base of my shaft, before licking up to the top and taking the
head into his mouth and running his tongue around it.

He was so gentle and loving in the way he was doing it.  It was a lot like
his massage, where he worked on every inch of me, every muscle, and took
his time.  He did the same to my hard cock, using his tongue to explore the
contours and veins.

For every moment he spent on the shaft he spent three on the head, and even
though he was mostly working the outside I could feel myself getting closer
and closer to an orgasm.  I supposed he could feel that too, because he
seemed to take my cock into his mouth and begin to suck it more seriously,
taking more and more of it as he began to bob his head up and down.

He took my balls in one of his hands and the other hand he placed on my
pubes so my cock, without the assistance of his hands, was totally in his
mouth.  His head moved steadily up and down on it and he was impressively
able to take my entire cock into his mouth and throat on the down take.

Looking over at his hard cock, with its bright red head, I reached out to
wrap my fingers around it.  He took his hand off of my lower stomach and
pushed my hand away from his cock.  He didn't break pace while he did this,
his head moving rhythmically up and down on my cock.

I tried again to reach for his cock which looked so hard and inviting there
between his thighs sticking straight-up.  Again he pushed my hand away.

I guess because I had tried for his cock and he kept rebuffing me, where I
thought I was going to cum just from his licking me I now had no urgency to
cum.  I just gave into the rhythmic moving of his mouth on my cock.

I left my head tilted to the side so I could study his body.  Even on his
knees bent over me and only 15 years old (so beyond the possibility of
being toned from sports could not explain it) he was so firm and solid.
His body was a straight plane from his head, which was wrapped around my
cock, to his hips, with that hard cock sticking out from between his thighs
at the same angle as his upper body.

As I looked at that hard cock I couldn't help but think how gorgeous it was
and how it suited him, and how it was everything I dreamed it would be.  I
was just sad he wouldn't let me touch it.

I admired his form as I let him, using only his mouth (steadied by a hand
planted flat on my lower stomach while the other cupped and massaged my
balls), work my cock at his own speed.

I don't know if it was his cock being out of reach or the slow steady
movement of his head up and down on my cock, but it took me longer to cum
than usual, which was surprising since this was the first blowjob I had
ever had and his mouth felt amazing on my cock.  He didn't seem to mind
and, what is more, he didn't miss a beat or change the pace.

The effect was incredible.  I could feel the cum building slowly again, but
where before it had started to feel frantic and made me want to grab his
cock and get off together with him in a frenzied sexual release, this time
it began to build slowly and stated in my toes and built.

I could feel it getting closer.  Yet it was still off in the back of mm
nind and in the pit of my stomach and balls and bowels or wherever else I
was feeling it slowly build throughout my abdomen.

When I felt myself getting to the point of no return, I warned him and said
"I am going to cum" but he showed no sign of having heard me or of caring.
His head continued the same slow up and down movement in the same rhythm as
he had been working my cock all along and the orgasm began to build in me
along the length of my cock.

I could feel my cock start to shoot.  It was almost tortured, as the cum
seemed to force itself out of my shaft and into his mouth, wanting release
but not being sped along by the frantic sucking or fucking that I was used
to boys needing to get off.

Even as I started shooting in his mouth, he kept moving his head in the
same consistent up and down pace that had brought me to that point, making
each ejaculation even more laboured and intense than the one before.  I
guess he was swallowing as I shot, though I could not perceive any change
in his mouth as it rode up and down on my cock in its measured pace.

My body was literally shaking as I came again and again.  I thought it was
never going to stop.

I must have cum ten or eleven shots in a row.  I don't know if anything was
cumming out in the last ejaculations, but they felt just as intense as the
first and since he didn't stop moving his mouth up and down on my cock I
actually had to pull him off my cock by the end because I couldn't stand it
anymore.  My cock head had become so sensitive it couldn't be touched.

He sat back on his legs and looked at me, writhing there clearly having
been drained to the point of pain, and he broke into a big smile.

When my body stopped convulsing. I relaxed and looked at him squatting
there with a Cheshire-grin that showed he was clearly pleased with himself.
Looking down his body I saw his hard cock was still sticking straight-up.
I immediately thought, well, if he wouldn't let me touch it before, maybe
he would now, but before I could reach out to take hold of his hard cock we
heard movement upstairs in the house.

Reese jumped to his feet and immediately began pulling on his clothes.  I
got up, more laboriously as I was completely drained.  His mother called
down the stairs "did you boys get something to eat."

"We ordered pizza," Reese shouted back and, having gotten his pants and his
t-shit on, he ran to the stairs to head off his mother in case she thought
about coming downstairs.

I finished getting dressed.

Unlike Reese, I put on all my clothes, including socks and belt, and joined
him shortly afterwards at the top of the stairs where he was talking to his
mother abut sleeping arrangements it seemed.

"But the guest room is all made up," I heard her say.  "It is too much
trouble to find the sleeping bags and set them up downstairs."

Once I drew close his mother, obviously not one to lose an argument, she
turned to me and said, "you don't mind sleeping in the guest room, do you
Bruce, the sheets are all clean and you are just down the hall from Reese."
There was nothing I could say except "that would be fine."

Reese looked disappointed, but took it in stride.

"Let me get you a new toothbrush, we keep a bunch of them in case we have
last minute houseguests," she said.  Mothers, it seems, are all alike and
dental care is their number one concern (not why their boy was having a
sleep over with a boy two years older than him and what they might have
been up to downstairs that left Reese running upstairs without socks and a
belt).

I turned down her offer to borrow a pair of her husband's pyjamas and
decided, while it wasn't my normal bed attire (I had been sleeping naked
since I was 13), I would sleep in my briefs.

Everyone went to bed shortly thereafter and while I lay in bed thinking of
Reese's cock and wishing I had been able to touch it if not suck on it, I
also went to bed very content having been given a mind-numbing blowjob and
so I was dead to the world before long.

In the morning I was woken up by Reese standing over my bed in a pair of
pjs.

"Mom wants us down for breakfast," he said.

He slid his hand under the covers and gave my hard cock a squeeze through
my briefs and smiled as he looked intently into my eyes.  It was very
reassuring.  I hadn't thought about it, having just woken up, but if I had
had any doubts or insecurities about what we had done the night before, he
had just made it clear he had no regrets.

"You have time for a quick shower," he said, pointing to a towel his mother
had left on the chair for me.

As soon as he left the room and my cock had gone down a bit, I wrapped
myself in the towel, went to shower and, after a quick shower, put on my
clothes and joined his parents and him for breakfast.

His father suggested we go down to the harbour as the tall ships were in
town.  It was something that he knew excited both Reese and I so there was
no saying no with any credibility on our parts.  While I would have like
for us to have time alone so I could try to get Reese to let me suck him
off, it did sound like a fun day.

So the rest of the day we spent with his dad exploring the tall-masted
schooners and even, thanks to some contact his dad had, got on to a navy
frigate.  He dropped me off at my apartment building late in the afternoon
and, while I didn't want to leave, there was no legitimate excuse to follow
them home.

All-in-all it was the best 24-hours I had spent that summer.

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