Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2023 19:34:30 -0500 From: Chuck Malthor Subject: Boys Soccer, Rain, and Pizza, Chapter 1 This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Chapter 1 I don't mind soccer, for the record. It's fun to watch, especially when it's all 10-12 year old boys. But today the weather got nasty and the second half of the game was wet, then wetter, and the turf turned muddy quick enough. I had my umbrella from my truck but my shoes and jeans were already wet and I knew the boys were going to be drenched all through. The temperature was normal but the rain dropped the temps, chilling my legs and arms. At least the boys were busy -- running as fast as their little legs could take them across the field. I was there to pick up my son, Kenny, age 10, and his friend Luis, 11. I knew Luis -- he had spent nights at the house once or twice -- and the boys had already agreed that this Friday would be another overnight stay at our house. My wife was out of town for a conference, so I was going to keep the evening cheap and easy ... once we got out of the rain. The rest of the parents were enthusiastic as they could under the conditions but I could tell that everyone wanted the game over. As for the score ... that didn't really. They're only kids. I was just glad that my boy was active and was pulling his weight in the game. The rain didn't stop as the game ended. I saw Kenny and Luis head towards me and I saw their muddy cleats, their dirty and wet shorts, and their drenched jerseys. Of course, this was a community field, not at a school, so no chance to shower and clean up before leaving (as if schools encouraged showering any more). The boys were panting, grinning, but already shivering as they walked to me and I tried to shelter all three of our heads with my umbrella but that was useless. As we headed to my truck across the parking lot, I listened to the boys talk about their activity and mentioned some other boys' play, but I was more interested in just getting in the truck. "OK, boys, when we get to the truck, I don't have all this mud covered all over the truck, so we're going to clean off first." "Right, Dad." "Yes, Mr. Artman," and I could hear a bit of his Latino accent. I could see some grass and dirt in the boys' hair and grass stains along their skinny arms and spatted along their hairless legs. I opened the truck cab and grabbed a towel from my gym bag. It was not clean -- I had been worked out at the gym this afternoon -- but I wasn't going to offer choices here. "First, take off your cleats and socks and place them in the truck bed -- we'll clean those off when we get home." So the shoes went off and the mud-stained socks were thrown back. "OK, no wet clothes on my seats, so take off the jerseys." There was no resistance to that one, and I modeled my own and took off my dress shirt and undershirt even though I wasn't as wet as the boys were. I saw my boy's skinny fair colored chest, seeing his ribs through the skin. Luis's skin was a lovely mocha brown, showing how the summer's sun turns darker. I looked around and saw that most of the other parents had left the parking lot already -- they didn't care about their car interior, perhaps, or were better prepared than I had been. I pulled off my wet jeans and I didn't care if any remaining parents or coaches saw me, as I was used to stripping in multiple scenes -- gym, beach, hiking, whatever. And my boy Kenny was used to me around the house in my briefs or naked (when the wife was away). But Luis was more interested to see my white briefs and my naked chest and legs and I let him look. "OK, boys, no wet shorts, either, so take them off and I'll get the heater started up." The boys hesitated, so I said, "Hurry up -- quicker we get started, all of us can get warmed up." Kenny took his soccer shorts off and handed them to me and Luis followed. Kenny was wearing blue patterned boxer shorts and Luis was wearing some black trunks. I pulled the towel around the boys, between the truck door and frame, to give them some privacy. The boys seemed hesitant but Kenny knew the routine, and he pulled his boxers off and Luis followed his lead. Both boys handed their wet underwear to me, avoiding meeting my eyes, and both jumped into the truck cab. I felt some excitement in my own loins as I felt the boys' underwear and wished I had some time there but I stowed all the wet clothes in the cab. I went around the truck -- in wet socks and nothing else but my white briefs -- and climbed to the driver's seat and saw my naked 10 year naked son with his hands around his privates and the brown skinny Latino 11 year old with his hands doing the same. I grinned a bit and I wasn't surprised. I turned on the engine and immediately turned on the heater and turned the radio onto something the boys might appreciate more. Before I shifted the gear, I reached out and rubbed the boys' legs, saying, "This will be better. We'll get the warm air coming really soon and your legs will feel heated up right away, ok?" My son Kenny started responding to the physical stimulus and started talking, "My toes are frozen, dad!" And I replied, "Yeah, same, and I bet your little weiner is frozen, too, right?" The word "weiner" was always the cause of laughter and both boys cackled like boys do. Luis peaked his hands open a bit to look at his boy weiner but I could see anything from my perspective, but Kenny flashed his boy weiner from both hands for a second, to show the audience of two and I laughed loud, like Luis did. I said, "That's a popsicle stick, Kenny," and now all the embarrassment was gone. We had about 15 minutes to get to the house along the dark and wet roads. I shifted to gear and headed on the streets. The heater was warming the cab quickly, and I drove with the left hand on the wheel with my right arm over my son's naked shoulders and reached out once in a while to scratch Luis's hair. My own man meat was warming up, too, and I admit that I flexed my member on purpose, feeling the pressure against the cotton briefs. I asked the boys to go through the whole game as we drove and I interjected a few times for clarification, making eye contact with each boy again and again, giving me more opportunity to turn my head to see the boys' chests and bellies, their legs and their thighs. As they met my eyes, they tended to check my chest, my belly, and naturally down to my briefs and the obvious man bulge. The heater was working fine. Even better than fine. Even though they were naked and skinny as a pole, the boys started feeling the air and tried to make some space, relaxing their hands around their crotches. Once, Luis adjusted his hands to regain his privacy, but I said, "Don't worry about it, boys. We're all boys here and there's nothing embarrassing. Don't ever be embarrassed about your boy parts around other boys, ok?" Kenny was the first to remove his hands and moved his left hand to my leg, naturally, with his right comfortably on his right leg, fully exposing his boy dick, warmly exposed to the heater. I had seen his dick many, many times and he hasn't started puberty yet -- his three thin uncut dick, his hairless balls. I used my right hand to friendly flick his dickhead and he laughed and even though Luis's eyes grew with surprise, he laughed, too. Luis followed Kenny's example, and moved his right arm to the door window edge and his left arm on his belly. I looked to find a very dark thin three inch uncut boy dick but also similarly hairless. Luis saw me look and I grinned and he grinned back. Luis looked down to my crotch and he could see a man's hard dick under those white briefs, and if he paid attention, he might have seen the throbbing blood I was feeling. I reached over and scratched Luis's hair as he and Kenny continued their play-by-play recount of the play. As we approached the house, I opened the garage door, drove in, and closed the door. "OK, as we get inside, gather your clothes and bring them into the laundry room and then you guys will head to the shower." The boys still talked about the game and climbed out of the truck, naked as boys can be, without shame. They gathered their gear while I reached for my jeans and shirt. We left our wet shoes in the garage and we walked our wet clothing to the washing machine suddenly awkwardly as they hid their crotches again even though the wet clothing was cold. I led and tossed my jeans in and stripped my socks off while the boys stood at the doorway, watching. I stripped my briefs off and tossed them in and both boys looked, silently now, at my hanging dick, my pubes, and all my nakedness. I laughed and said, "I told you, it's all boys here, so get naked and let's get cleaned up." Kenny walked in the room and reached his clothes into the machine, full naked again, his little butt inches from my crotch as I looked at everything of his 10 year body, from the crown of his light brown hair, down his nape, along his spine, and those tiny butt cheeks and his narrow butt crack. Luis crowded into the room and I told Kenny to reach over and pour the laundry detergent and start the machine. Luis tossed his clothes in and watched as the water rushed into the drum and I took my time to peruse his 11 year old nakedness like I had done with my son. The brilliant black hair, the dark neck, the slightly lighter back skin, and then his butt, unexposed to the sun, the butt the color of caramel. As I took one hand on each other's shoulders, I could feel their cool skin and I reached down and rubbed their bellies. "You guys are cold, huh?" I pulled them closer to me, their backs to my belly, their butts to my thighs, and my dick felt the cool skin of their lower backs. [To be continued.] -- Chuckchuck.malthor@gmail.com