Date: Sat, 6 Apr 2024 08:22:21 +0000 From: Scribbler Lad Subject: Rusty Grows Up Rusty Grows Up - Chapter 1 Read about Rusty a newcomer to Cloverdale CA. He's in 10th grade at Cloverdale High, he started a couple of weeks late. He lives next door to Abel. Will Abe be his pal ever again, will he be picked for swim team? What about Smithy? A developing story. Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming. https://donate.nifty.org All comments welcomed scribblerlad@hotmail.com Rusty Grows Up - Chapter 1 Rusty ran up the path and slammed the front door behind him, to an empty house, no `hi honey', his mum is at work on one of her jobs, before she gets home, prepares a quick meal and then she's off out to work again. Rusty went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, bathed in the light and cool air he took the carton of milk and put it to his lips, the waxy card warm, the ice cold milk refreshing him as he gulped the milk down almost gagging and choking at the rate the liquid filled his mouth, his cheeks extended as he swallowed in huge gulps, eventually denying him of oxygen as he swallowed the last dregs and heaves air into his lungs then coughing as the milky liquid and snot ran down his nose. He lifted his milk drenched T shirt off his body and blew his nose on the shirt, as he yanked it over his head. The cool air felt zingy on his nips, he looked down and milk had leaked from his mouth onto his shirt and ran down soaking his shorts. The white liquid soaking into black shorts, his mind turned dirty, like it's always doing. He yanked the wet milky shorts down and his boner sprang up, slapping his abs. He prised off his sneakers and closing the refrigerator door, left the shoes, shorts and shirt on the floor and went upstairs. He fell onto his bed, exhausted at the day, why? He thought. Abel was his friend wasn't he? But just like the others he realised that he too was jealous of his talent. What could he do? He couldn't swim slower, lose on purpose, he just did what he did. Coach was so pleased, he said i'd eaten up the pool that afternoon, do that on Friday and your in the team. The look of disappointment on Abel's face as the timings were posted was seared into my retina. I hear the familiar mechanical sound of Abes bike, him throwing it on the lawn and the creak and slam of their screen door, a `hi mom' as the door closed. I stood naked at the landing window and timed it as I always do, to see Abe appear and start pulling off his clothes and enter his bedroom. No ass flash today though. Not that I'm obsessed with Abe or his ass, it's just a routine, something to do in this crazy quiet suburb. 5,4,3,2,1 right on cue, out he walks, boner bobbing and into the shower. I do the same, imagining we're showering together, boners sword fighting, him leaning in to kiss me as his hands fall on my ass cheeks, caressing where my globes meet my thighs, running his fingers across the crease towards my pucker, his fingers touching the back of my nuts as his hands glide back then travel up my crack to my nape, pulling my head in for a deeper kiss. All the time Abe rocking his cock up my V line on a bed of his precum. My cock grazing his pubes and his faint treasure trail, trapped between us, my cockhead burning hot, the sensation so severe I feel nothing but a sound, a white hot sound, the water spray almost silent as the ringing in my ears increases and only ceases on my release. I feel he's close to the edge, he separates from our kiss, his lips are so close to mine. As he pulls away his breathing changes. He lunges into me rubbing his cock higher up my body as I feel his fluid searing hot on my skin, spurting out as a low guttural sound vibrates in his chest cavity and he pushes his spewing cock up and down my body coating us both in his jizz. I yelp, he smiles momentarily at the strange sound. I wither a little as the force of my cum spurts and hits his face, my cock vertical, squashed between us, I count 11 spurts, my knees are buckling, I fall back into him, he stops me falling, hugging me tight under my arms, my body limp, my head lolled back like the pieta as the shower jet washes away my cum, my chest flushed, my body red, my stomach rising and falling as I heave air into my lungs. `I got ya', he says and slides down the wall still holding me, we sit on the shower floor, Abel's cuddling me, as we recover, my spent chubby cock oozing a sliver of cum. I get up off the floor, I'm done, my dream flicks back to reality and it's one final soap up and rinse off to rid any cum spurts and I dry myself in the luxury of a quiet house, alone, in my bedroom, naked, feeling the draft on my ass and nuts as I parade about my room flexing in the mirror, I'm coming on, proud of my teeny hairs and cock, no more dry humps for me, but buckets of cum, no more puny arms and flat pecs, I'm filling out. I think back over the day, grinning to myself. Swim practice was great. At the end of the tough warm up routines, the individual timing challenges and one to one tuition the fun begins. Usually coach puts on a `competition' with meet rules, to get us used to the routine of competitive swimming. This week is a freestyle comp, my turn to test myself against the others. I want to. I need to. Now look, I know I'm shorter in height and er length, younger, shyer, quieter, and uglier than the other guys who are popular, gregarious, muscular, gorgeous, hairier, longer, bigger balled and who are now lined up on the pool side with me waiting for the whistle. I gotta give it a shot, even if I lose, I'm used to that feeling so it won't hurt too much. I'm in the outer lane, lane 8, it's my favourite, out of the way, inconsequential. It's 4 laps of your fastest stroke. It's a 50m pool, the only one for miles, welcome to Smalltown CA. I've swam ever since I can remember, I have faint shadowy memories and feelings of my Dad hauling me out of the water and throwing me back in, hugging him, feeling so safe in his arms. Dad was a great swimmer, he made state team, maybe I could too, maybe I could make the grade. I focus on the present. The cold bobbly tiles under my feet. I hear the whistle and I dive in. I see the splashes of guys ahead of me already as I slice through the water. Coach says I'm an accelerator, some guys just get into a grove and their times never alter, they do largely what they do on the day. Me, coach says, I respond to the pressure and build up my speed, accelerating as required to win. He's seen it in me and coached me to improve my technique to build my inate speed but to keep the ability to accelerate. Over the few weeks I've improved my basic times. Coach says quietly to me, conspiratorialy even, his breath warm in my ear, his arm heavy on my shoulder, `you're a contender'. I love it when he does this. I love coach. It's the first turn, the first 50 metres are over, well, I'm not last, maybe 6th or 7th. I feel my rhythm improve, I'm more efficient, warming up now, pushing more water behind me, as I glide along, at the 25m steps I'm still keeping up. On the 2nd turn, I notice some of the guys must be tiring, I think I'm 5th now, I'd settle for that. I get into the third lap, I hear coach in my head saying `you're a contender' and I tell myself to try for fourth, or maybe third place. I concentrate and suddenly it's the turn, the last lap. I power out, I only see two heads at the side of me, shit I'm third, now what did coach say, get into position as you reach the steps, don't go early and burn out, it's not about a PB but to win by just enough'. Smithy must be tiring or injured, I pass him at the 25 steps, 25 metres to go, Abe looks across quickly scanning me, then he speeds up, `here we go, it's race on' I think and concentrate on my technique, my efficiency of stroke, my breathing and keeping my line. I touch. It's over. A huge cheer erupts from the guys. I look over at Abe, he's pissed, red faced, snorting in air. Coach pulls me out of the water, clapping my back as I recover. I walk over to Abe, to congratulate him on his win like I always do. `I didn't see that coming', he says miserably, and turns his back on me. I realised I'd won, shit this is a new feeling, the other guys congratulate me on my swim. I'm suddenly popular, I'm elevated to the middle spigot, guys all around me, even my cock looks like the others, not a little worm anymore but bigger and hairier down there, my pubes matching up with those around me. They're talking me through the race as we shower, how I'd overtaken the pack one by one on the first 3 and a half laps then smashed it in a sprint finish, timing it, like cat and mouse, with Abe to beat him on the last kick. Abe is silent, not joining in, Smithy puts his arm around Abes shoulder and says `looks like you've competition on Friday Abe?', `Fuck off Smithy' is the reply as Abe walks to his locker. `Ooooh touchy' says Smithy as we dress. I run home like I normally do, get some yards in, help me focus. I've got a good pace on me and I'm soon home. Today I'm elated and leap over the gate and into the garden. Just time for a wank and a shower before my paper round. I dress after imagining cumming in the shower with Abe. I get my bag and walk to the newstand, I mark up the papers swiftly with the house number and walk the mean streets of Cloverdale CA, from School Street to 4th is my patch. It's a good walk, in good weather. I meet lots of folks, in this small town there's no place to hide. Mr Smith comes out with Smithy and says `Kyle has been telling me about the race, congratulations son' and he proffers his hand for a shake. One thing I do know is to meet it firmly and look dead straight into his eyes thank him and shake twice then retire. `That's some squeeze you got their boy', he laughs as they put their hands up `see you at school' shouts Smithy. He's acting like my new best pal. Maybe I should win more often? I finish the round. The bag getting lighter as I get to Josephine Drive, I report that Mrs Bailey at 438 wasn't home again, her paper and mail not collected from yesterday. Boss says he'll drive around to see if she's ok and not to worry, he tosses me a Hershey's Kiss. I shout thanks. Moms home when I get back, I tell her about the race on Friday whilst she prepares pork chops and a huge pile of vegetables and new potatoes lathered in butter. I clear my plate and wash the dishes. Then she's off to the laundry for her evening stint. `I gotta keep the roof over our heads, since Geoff died it's been hard on us both'. She hugged me, I breathed in that smell, her perfume, released, I was about to watch TV when mom says `homework first honey'. I get my school bag and trawl through the math and geography, it's pretty easy, I enjoy it. Mum gets back and I'm in pj's playing my video game, yeah I know it's old but it's what I've got. I love the `Italian Job' car chase. I say nite to mom and lie in bed, hard as usual, thinking of Abe. I knock one out, dreaming of coaches arm around me, hugging me close, shit, its another gusher, and I fall asleep feeling guilty about crusty PJ's. TBC Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming. https://donate.nifty.org All comments welcomed scribblerlad@hotmail.com