Date: Wed, 28 Dec 2005 10:30:02 -0800 (PST)
From: Rob Hoek <storyguy22@yahoo.com>
Subject: Peeking From the Closet (2)

It was a warm evening, and I decided to wear shorts, so I pulled on a pair
of the snug briefs that I usually wore with shorts, rather than my normal
boxers. The legs of the in-style shorts that all of us favored were pretty
baggy, and I was always concerned that people could see right up the legs
to my package, if I sat in just the right way, and I was shy about somebody
catching a glimpse of my cock head, or my balls. I pulled on the cargo
shorts, a logo tee shirt, and my sandals, and was on my way.

   I parked the car around the corner from the party house, and as I walked
toward it, the already thumping music filled my ears with the pounding bass
tones. There were kids scattered variously around the front yard, and the
porch, and as I made my way to the open front door, I greeted several of
them. Inside, I paused in the foyer, looking around the crowded room. It
was pretty much the usual crowd, a mixture heavier with boys, than girls,
and the dining room furniture had been pushed to the walls to create a
makeshift dance floor. Several couples were gyrating to the loud music, and
there were even a few girl-girl couples dancing. Why, I wondered, was it a
total non-event for two chicks to dance together, when the sight of two
dudes dancing would be cause for a major round of "fag" remarks. I sighed,
as I deftly scoped the cute little mounds of Bobby Richard's butt, as he
leaned against a wall chatting up some girl. I would seriously like to
dance a few rounds with that tight little bubble, I thought, and sighed
again, knowing that idea had a chance somewhere equal to the proverbial
snowball in hell.

   Bobby Richards was pretty much the stud of our class, an absolute hunk
in a gentle sort of way. Stone cute to look at, and a stellar jock, to
boot, he was like a three letter athlete, excelling in track, swimming, and
baseball. He was a slim six feet, and I'd guess maybe 160, 165. His hair
was so soft looking as to almost be fluffy, and was a very light shade of
brown, almost sandy color during the summer months. He wore it fairly long,
over his ears and collar, and he had this totally cute mannerism of
unconsciously flicking at the stray strands that frequently drifted over
his forehead. I loved watching him do that, and was continuously intrigued
with the almost dainty appearance of his hands, and slim fingers. I had
many times envisioned those delicate fingers wrapped firmly around the
throbbing shaft of my cock as he fed it into his lush, full mouth. That was
another of those snowball in hell comparisons. I positioned myself to
further check him out, letting my eyes drift over the delicious bulge at
the front of his snug Levis, and felt my mouth water at the prospect of the
treasure that lurked there, so near, and yet.... yea well, you know. I was
mildly surprised to note that Bobby held a beer in his hand, and was
pulling at it rather hungrily as he worked his charms on the girl. Being
the athlete that he was, he rarely went at the booze at these events, but
then I realized that school sports were kind of in between seasons right
now, with competitive swimming finished, and baseball still a few weeks
away. I gave Bobby's bulges another longing look, sighed, and walked into
the kitchen.

   If anything, the mob in the small kitchen outnumbered the throng in the
living room, this being where the makeshift bar had been established. The
usual heavy-handed drinkers were milling about, never wandering too far
from the source of a refill, as was their practice on the party circuit. I
dipped my hand into a large metal tub full of ice, and the resultant
cold-ass water, and retrieved a Pepsi, and popped it open. I nodded to
several friends, and tried to chat with a few, but the din of voices,
laughter, and ear splitting hip-hop made conversation all but impossible. I
angled toward the back door, managing a few delightful body rubs against
some very hot dudes, grinning, and shrugging sheepishly, as I indicated the
tightness of the throng had made it necessary to initiate contact in an
effort to pass. I really hate myself when I'm sly that way.

   I made it outside, and joined yet another large crowd who milled around
in small groups, drinking and chatting, and stopped to observe a second
dance floor area on the concrete patio that surrounded the really awesome
swimming pool. Fortunately, the blaring music from inside the house was so
loud that it sounded like it was actually outside, so we were spared a
second, and separate, source of the throbbing music. I paused, watching
Adam Trent gyrate his yummy little body wildly, keeping pace with a nubile
young thing, her basketball sized tits threatening to spill from her skimpy
halter top. Adam's eyes were laser-locked on the bouncing melon, as he no
doubt prayed for just such an occurrence. I played my eyes over Adam's
thrusting crotch, and felt a small tingle course through my balls at being
able to clearly see his apparently very erect cock pressing against the
kaki material of the snug pants he was wearing. I licked my lips, and
recalled the numerous times I had lay in my bed at night, feverishly
stroking my cock as I thought of the many delicious things I would like to
do with that impressive member. Yes, Adam was another of the fantasies, or
rather, frustrations, that frequently haunted my solo reveries, and was
also yet another of the snowball in hell examples. Why, I queried of
myself, do all of these hunky dudes have to be so disgustingly straight,
making near fools of themselves, and ending up mostly frustrated, in the
constant pursuit of pussy, when with me, all they need do is ask. Life, I
decided, did indeed pretty much suck.

   Eventually, one of the girls that I called friend, and meant it, caught
up with me, and coerced me onto the dance floor, and that precipitated
about ninety minutes of non-stop thumping and bumping that actually ended
with a headache. Sweating, and winded, I begged off finally, and made my
way back to the back yard, fresh cold Pepsi in hand. I wandered over to a
dim corner of the back yard, and sat down on a raised brick planter,
cooling down, and rubbing the cold soda can over my forehead, trying to
chase off the headache. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed a
mound of bodies entangled on a nearby lounge seat, seriously involved in
the pursuit of carnal knowledge with each others anatomy. As someone exited
the small cabana that sat at the backside of the pool, a brief splash of
light washed over the would-be lovers, and I noted with a smile that it was
Bobby Richard's, and one of his constant pursuits, Terri, I think was her
name. I shook my head, wondering to myself why Bobby never seemed to get
it, or rather, never seemed to realize that he was NOT going to get it,
with this one, at least. Even among the other girls Terri was a well known
cock tease, one who seemed to love tormenting any horny guy who would go
for her act, engaging in a ton of heavy kissing, and groping, but absolute
in her resolve to arrive at the eventual alter totally in tact between her
lithe legs. The word was that she even stopped short of administering a
hand job, or, the now very vogue blow job, that many girls favored as an
option to giving up the real deal. Poor Bobby was definitely trolling for a
serious set of blue balls tonight by trying to score this one, and I
chuckled softly, happier in the knowledge that I wasn't going to be the
only one in that aching nut boat tonight. Misery, indeed, loves a little
company.

   I sipped my Pepsi, and sat quietly in the shadows, watching the two of
them writhe around on the lounge, legs tangled, and mouths clamped
furiously together, and I drew a quick mental image of Bobby's rock hard
cock as it throbbed against those tight Levi's, filled with the raging
passion that Ms. Terri had doubtless unleashed within him. I closed my
eyes, and strained hard to telepath him the message to just give her up,
bring that formidable weapon to good old Ryan, and have all your wishes
fulfilled, willingly, and repeatedly. I opened my eyes, and sighed,
disappointed that he did NOT seem to be getting my mental memo. As I
continued to watch, voyeur that I can be at times, I noted a flash of
white, as Ms. Terri's dainty bra landed on the grass next to the lounge,
and Bobby boy nuzzled his creamy cheeked face against her pert little tits,
an audible groan from him reaching my ears. Gawd, I thought, a chill
sliding down my spine, that thing must be granite hard, and, even leaking,
I'd bet. I took a long pull from the Pepsi, almost tasting the slippery
fluid that I was sure was making the front of his undies seriously wet. I
shuddered slightly at the delicious, nasty thought.

   Their heated grappling continued, accompanied by delightful soft mews,
and moans, as my own cock stiffened in my shorts. I glanced around, then
reached down to adjust it to a more comfortable position, and gave it a few
strokes in the process, more chills dancing over my spine. Hey Bobby, I
thought, look what I have for you, Dude, I thought with a small
giggle. There was a short lull in the heated action then, as they had a
brief whispered exchange, then, they struggled up from the lounge, and
stealthily snuck onto the cabana. I caught a brief view of Ms. Terri's
small, bare tits as they passed through the light, and shook my head,
wondering just what was the big freeking deal....hell, if I flexed, mine
were almost that big. I sighed again, and decided that the show was over,
and that Bobby was more than welcome to the blue balls club, and headed
back inside.

   Another hour passed, and I was once more dragged into the wild dance
scene, and had just escaped back to the kitchen, when I saw a somewhat
disheveled Ms. Terri slip through the back door, and head to the small
bathroom that was just off the kitchen. I smiled, picturing a very
frustrated Bobby Richard's outside in the cabana, probably trying
desperately to stuff that luscious slab of meat back inside those
Levi's. If Ms. Terri held to tradition, his balls would right about now be
boiling, and still fully charged, save for the gallon or so of precum that
he had deposited into his undies. I shook my head, thinking how much
happier BOTH of us would be, had Bobby Richard's only had the good sense to
take ME to the cabana, instead. I really do need to find some way to get
him that particular memo, I decided, it was, after all, kind of important
to our balls, both sets. As that thought passed through my cerebellum, a
very flushed Bobby Richard's half charged through the backdoor, and made a
direct beeline for the bar, where he poured about half a glass full of some
form of poison, and knocked it back, before refilling it. He made short
work of that hit, too, and quickly topped off the glass once more, before
retreating back outside. Ms Terri exited the commode about then, looking
very self satisfied, if not downright smug. Bitch, I thought to myself,
selfish, nasty, mean spirited, AND, no tits! Jeez!

   I turned toward the door, thinking that I'd go outside, and maybe try to
hookup with Bobby, and give him a shoulder to bitch on, when my friend Kari
grabbed my arm, and dragged me once more into the dancing frenzy in the
dining room. We gyrated among the packed bodies that crammed the small
space, and I'm sure that Kari was fully aware of the inflated state of my
dick, as it definitely poked her firm little ass more than once as we
pretty much had sex, fully dressed, and standing up, set to music. I
finally extricated myself from the fracas, as the dude playing DJ made his
next CD selection, and beat a retreat through the still packed kitchen, and
out the back door. I looked around at the few people that were still
hanging there, and spotted Bobby, once more sprawled on the lounge that he
had earlier shared with Ms. No-tits. I took a minute to cool down from the
frantic dance floor antics, then, wandered over to where Bobby was, and
dropped onto the grass beside him. I did a not very subtle once over of his
prone body, pausing to fully check out the packed front of his Levi's, and
felt that funny zing in my balls, as I focused on his obviously very hard
cock, where it throbbed behind the snug denim. Poor baby, I thought, all
dressed out, and nowhere to go. I licked my lips, feeling my own cock
stretch in my shorts, and silently imaged that rock hard wonder sliding
into my hungry mouth, where it would surly find the relief that it so
obviously needed.

   Bobby stirred then, and his head lolled toward me, a slightly bleary
expression on his cute face. His eyes blinked a few times as he got me into
focus, and a sweet smile crossed his lush, full lips, as he muttered, "Hey
Bro...Ryan....what's up, Dude?" I chuckled, as all of that had come out in
one very mushy, very inebriated, slur. My Bobby, it seemed, had seriously
overtaxed his metabolic abilities when he slam dunked those rapid rondo's
at the bar a while ago. I returned his slightly lopsided smile, and
replied, "Yo, Bobby....just chilling out some...too much dancing." He
giggled a silly sound, his head rolling against the lounge pad as though he
was having trouble controlling it, and mumbled, "Yea,
cool.....dance.....what I shoulda done, too...." I scooted closer to him,
and leaned close to his almost pretty face, and asked, "Hey, Dude...you
OK....sounding a little toasty there..." He giggled again, his floppy head
trying to nod, and muttered, "Getting there....I hope, anyway....jeez....my
freeking balls actually....hurt!" I grinned, as the idea of just reaching
out and grabbing his objects of reference crossed my wicked mind, and
replied, "Really....?" I can be SO glib, at times. His floppy head tried to
nod in the affirmative, as he sputtered, "Really, Dude.....bad
case....fucking bitch!" Grinning again, at the affirmation of my own
opinion of the fair Ms. Terri-no-tits, I resisted the urge to tell him "I
told you so," thinking of my earlier attempt to telepath him, and instead
replied, "That sucks, Dude." More glibness, jeez!

   Bobby made a serious attempt to acquire some semblance of a sitting
position, and almost made it, then, reached out suddenly, and grabbed my
hand, pulling me closer to him. The scent of his cologne, and the stench of
the booze he had recently inhaled, wafted through my nostrils, and I felt
my dick grow harder still from the contact of his hand holding mine. He
gave me a smirky grin, and said, "Ryan...dude....be a pal, would ya....go
get me a beer, dude?" I chuckled, and answered, "I'm thinking you probably
don't really need any more help killing your liver, Bobby....you're pretty
much toasted now." He giggled, once more trying to nod his head, and
mumbled, "Not near enough yet....fucking cunt....gotta get fried... so my
nuts go numb..." I had to laugh, and did, as Bobby again tugged on my arm
firmly, bringing my face mere inches from his. I gazed at his lush, full
mouth, and very nearly succumbed to the temptation to kiss him, my cock
poking painfully against my tight undies. "Come on, Ryan....please
dude....I need a freeking beer....and....not sure....I can....make the
trip, you know...?" As he muttered this, his warm, booze tainted, breath
blew softly against my cheek, and I reveled in the warmth of it, again
tempted to close the very small distance between us, and kiss those very
kissable lips. Instead, I smiled, and winked, and replied, "Ok
Bobby...sure, dude....anything for you...just don't be blaming me in the
morning when you wake up dead, ok?" He giggled sweetly, his floppy head
rolling around, and muttered, "Ryan White....you,
Dude... are... definitely....my main man!" I chuckled, thinking, if you
only had a clue, Bobby-boy, I would SO like to be your main man, AND cure
that awful set of blue balls you're packing, too. I got up, and boldly
ruffled his soft hair, saying, "Hang in, Bobby...be right back." And I
headed for the house to get him the last thing he needed.


As I crossed the patio, I realized that the other party goers had all
retreated to the house, and then realized that the volume of the music had
been blessedly reduced to a level that it was now only faintly audible
outside the house, which was no doubt why everyone had gone
inside. Probably a response to some cranky neighbor threatening to
enlighten the local law enforcement regarding the raucous event was
responsible for that, I decided. I squirmed my way through the packed
kitchen, a gauntlet-running event that required sufficient concentration on
my part, so that my aching dick thankfully returned to at-ease in my
shorts. I fished a couple of beers from the tub, and made the return squirm
to the door, then, back to Bobby. As I approached, the at-ease condition of
my cock did an abrupt about-face, as I realized that Bobby had removed his
shoes, socks, and shirt, and was now in the fumbling process of trying to
get out of the snug Levi's. My eyes drank in the smooth firmness of his
chest, and the rather large, quarter-sized nipples that dotted the satin
smooth skin, and drifted over the flat tummy, and I smiled, at seeing the
tiny wrinkle of lingering baby fat that created a cute little crease below
his navel, as he bent at the waist, struggling with the Levi's.

   I dropped down on my knees on the grass, and stared, as he thumbed open
the snap, and slid down the zipper of his jeans, tugging them open, and
exposing the small briefs that he wore. I gulped, as he began working the
material down his legs, and his clearly throbbing erection came into view,
seriously straining the snug briefs at the front. "Going nudie, are we
Bobby?" I asked, trying my best to look into his eyes, and mostly
failing. He giggled that goofy sound again, and stopped struggling with the
pants, as he got me into focus. He reached out toward me, and muttred,
"Beer...!" and I put one in his hand. He fumbled, and popped it, then,
tipped it up, sucking noisily from the can, and I openly stared at his
swollen package, my mouth watering profusely. Jesus, he is freeking
packing, I thought, and thick, too! He continued to drain the beer, as I
stared at his thick shaft, and the large lump of his cramped, and very blue
balls, thinking that the pent up load they contained must surly be of
gusher proportion.

   Bobby dropped the empty beer can onto the grass, and burped loudly,
followed by more giggles, as he staggered to his feet, the Levi's puddling
at his ankles. I was now roughly eye level with his fully extended crotch,
and struggled mightily to not just mash my face against that straining
wonder, and peel those very sexy briefs down his toned legs, and swallow
him whole. I forced myself to look up at him, and he stumbled, as he tried
to take a step with the jeans pooled around his ankles. He staggered again,
near falling, and I quickly wrapped my arms around his thick thighs,
steadying him. His raging hardon brushed against my cheek, and I actually
groaned, feeling the heat, and hardness of it on my skin, and I mumbled,
"Bobby...what the fuck dude...?" He giggled again, and managed to shed the
tangled jeans from his feet, and muttered drunkenly, "Swim....gonna
swim..." I let go of his legs, the heady scent of his packed crotch filling
my senses, and watched, incredulous, as he stumbled to the pool, and jumped
in.

   Being not at all sure he wouldn't just sink like a rock, I hurried to
the edge of the pool, ready to go in after him if need be, and watched, as
he surfaced, sputtering slightly, and kicked off, swimming strong stokes
the full length of the pool, before executing a pretty fair flip-turn,
considering his condition, and stroking to the opposite end. He swam
several strong laps, his natural abilities as a varsity swimmer taking
precedence over his drunken state, and finally stopped at my feet, gripping
the coping with his hands. He smiled up at me, and that zing thing shot
through my balls once more, as I reveled in his abject cuteness, and his
silly, very boyish grin. "Feel better?" I asked with a smile of my own, and
he nodded, as I noted that he was not even breathing hard, despite several
very vigorous laps of the pool. "Yea, I'm cool, just....toasted....and
freeking....horny!" he chuckled, then, pushed off the wall, and paddled to
the steps at the shallow end of the pool. I stood dead in my tracks, nearly
mesmerized, as he ascended the steps, and walked toward me. The small
briefs clung to him like skin, soaking wet, and very nearly transparent,
the thick stalk of his still swollen cock clearly outlined in the clinging
material, and his very plump ball sac equally as visible. I gulped, my own
cock a hot rod of steel straining in my shorts as I just stared, unable to
tear my gaze from that incredible package of prime boyhood.

   Without a word, he passed me, spraying fine drops of water over me, as
he shook his flaxen locks, and walked back to the lounge. He very nearly
gave me full apoplexy with his next move, as he calmly skinned out of the
clinging briefs, and bent down to retrieve his shirt from the grass. As I
stood there gape-jawed, he proceeded to towel his naked body with the
shirt, calmly drying himself, while that thick, and beautiful cock swayed
forth, jutting straight off his groin. I shuddered, staring at his
incredible display, and my hungry gaze took in the fullness of his snug
ball sac, and the taut muscles of his hairless thighs. He turned profile
then, bending slightly as he dabbed at his legs with the shirt, and I
almost emptied my own aching balls into my undies, as the firm globes of
his ass shown in the soft light. It was the text book bubble butt, small,
and tight, the shadowed crease perfectly dissecting the twin melons, and I
longed to drop to the ground, and bury my face between them. Finished with
his drying attempt, Bobby retrieved his Levi's, and stepped awkwardly into
them, then, pulled them up his legs. Sadly, he tucked his delicious
equipment away, and carefully maneuvered the zip into place. He sat then,
and got his socks and shoes back on, and once more staggered to his feet,
tossing a boyish, and slightly sheepish, grin my way. He beckoned me with
his finger, and I suddenly snapped out of my reverie, realizing that I
hadn't so much as blinked, or breathed, throughout his whole breath-taking
display, and I quickly moved to his side, my mind still replaying the vivid
images of his nudity, and that incredible cock, and balls. He reached out,
and pulled me firmly against him, and I slid my arms around him, my hands
roaming the incredible smoothness of his naked back, as he hugged me, his
thick erection mashed solidly against my own. I was sure he could feel my
hammering heart beating against his bare chest, and I was consumed with the
feel, and the scents of him. Feeling suddenly bold, and daring, I gave into
my lust, and extended my tongue, licking the soft, smooth skin of his upper
chest, and across his slightly puffy nipple, still stiff from the water. He
tensed slightly at the contact, then, exhaled deeply, and I felt a small
shudder pass through him, as he mumbled my name against my hair, as we
stood there, rock still. I could, I realized, almost count his pulse, from
the strong contractions of his very hard cock, where it pressed against me.

   Bobby relaxed then, and pulled back slightly, and I almost heard the
shattering of the moment. He looked into my eyes, the sheepish little grin
returning to his lush mouth, and he said, very softly, "Ryan, my main-man,
I seriously need a ride home." I chuckled, looking into his incredible
eyes, and replied, "Like I said before, Bobby....anything, for you."

(To be Continued)
Storyguy22@yahoo.com