Date: Mon, 26 Nov 2001 20:21:01 EST
From: GayBoi1977@aol.com
Subject: Johnny's Memoirs Part I Chapter II (inc)(HS)

Johnny's Memoirs
By J. Michael Pitt
Part One - An Addict, Reborn
Chapter Two

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the author cannot be held responsible. All dates are also fiction. Sue him,
and he will sue you right back!

This work contains explicit adult material: incest, sex between minors, to
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Chapter Two

To continue my tale...

It wasn't long before we, my brother and I, were exploring other aspects of
this new passion with each other. Nor was it long before I had explored
every facet of his perfect body.

I was completely fascinated by the things he alone could make me feel, and
even though I could not really climax until a few years later, I had
started to experience a sort of dry orgasm, which added new depths to my
already unfathomable lust for Preston.

I will not hold back when I say that my brother was a bit of a whore even
at this age, however. While he was spending more and more time with me in
our bedrooms in the evenings, and on some occasions during the day in
various outdoor locations, he, himself, was still learning new things with
his friends.

I am a selfish little demon, so this did bother me somewhat. But I move
ahead of myself.

My parents had no clue that something might be up, though they did wonder
why we were spending so much more time together at night. They never really
said much about it though, not even when Preston began to bring me along to
sleepover at one particular friend's house, which I will mention later.

In truth, everyone was completely ignorant of our games, and most remain so
to this day.

That first evening together opened an entire labyrinth of new doors. And it
is what started me on the road to becoming what I am now.

I will admit that we were a bit estranged, following that particular
evening. Perhaps for the first week. Neither of us really knew how the
other had felt about what we had done. We hadn't spoken a word about it to
each other.

I suppose we were both just a slight bit shy, though looking back, the
reason behind this still eludes me.

Preston was the one who finally broke the ice when he came into the
bathroom one morning while I was in the shower, and decided to give me head
again.

He all but tiptoed up the bathtub, knowing that I sat completely oblivious
behind the reflective black and chrome curtain. I do not remember what I
was doing at the time. Perhaps practicing the "jack-off" technique I had
seen him use. Regardless, I was at his mercy.

When he threw open the curtain, I was initially shocked. But once I saw
that seductive smile sweep across his idol-like features, I again simply
went with the flow. And I was secretly loving every moment of it.

Without a word, he got on his knees and engulfed my entire cock.

Everything in that instant reminded me of the bliss I had felt the other
night. Everything reminded me of just why I was so infatuated with this
brother of mine, this Adonis.

I was enthralled by everything I beheld. The feel of his wet mouth on my
throbbing hard on; the way the droplets of water from the shower dampened
his hair just enough to give it that hot wet look that I still find
extremely sexy; the view of his hand massaging his rock-hard prick through
his jeans, everything.

Still I wanted more. I wanted him. I wanted to know what he knew, and feel
what he had felt. It had been almost an obsession of mine these past
days. I would lay in bed at night, trying my best to emulate his actions
from the other night. This had led to minor success: the discovery of the
dry orgasm I mentioned earlier. While it did feel good, it offered no
release. The memory seems both silly and erotic at the same time. Imagine:
a nine-year-old boy stroking his dick to such an intense point, his face
contorted with the pleasure, his hand holding his prick in a death grip. No
wonder it is illegal to view that sort of thing in real life.

I believe my brother knew that I desperately wanted to experience this
pleasure to the fullest extent. I believe that he felt a small bit of pity
for me, that I should experience only a fraction of the pleasure he had
known.

I wondered if he sensed my longing even now.

As if in answer, he casually and carefully slipped one finger into my warm
ass. I had so wanted this. It sent me reveling with every sensation. All
the tension that the silence between us had wrought during the past week,
and the frustration of my youth, was obliterated by this act of loving
passion. Who knew that men were capable of creating such a feeling.

I heard myself moan, perhaps a bit too loudly, and began bucking my hips
against his face again; fucking that hot mouth of his and riding his finger
at the same time.

He got into this and inserted another finger, sending new pulses of
pleasure through my body.

I wished, deep down, that it were his cock inside of me. But I knew he
would not do this yet.

I think he was surprised to see me so fervently turned on. Only a little
more than a week ago, I was all but paralyzed with ignorance of the
flesh. Now it seemed as though I had done this sort of thing countless
times. The whore of Adonis.

He pulled his fingers out, rinsed them in the warm water, and, grabbing my
ass by both cheeks, turned me around. I felt completely exposed.

Sensing my uneasiness, he grabbed my dick as if to reassure me and said,
"Trust me Johnny boy, you are gonna love this."

And with that, he buried his tongue deep inside my tight boy ass.

I did not know what to think of this. It seems a gross thing to a
nine-year-old, yet at the same time I am not most of those my age.

I soon made my decision that it was definitely a good thing as I felt my
knees weaken. He could have done anything he wished to me at that moment,
and I would have been his slave.

To this day, nothing drives me more wild; makes me more submissive. And
this is quite a treat considering that I am almost always the dominate one.

He used both hands to pry my ass cheeks apart, giving him the freedom he
needed to let me experience all that his tongue had to offer.

I grabbed my own cock and started pumping it as I had seen him do it. It
felt great, but not nearly as much as my Adonis' "dark kiss".

This immense pleasure was to be short-lived, however.

Preston heard it before I did. The sound of patent-leather footsteps coming
up the Oak stairs.

"Johnny, are you quite through yet? You've been in there for nearly a half
hour," I heard my father yell over the sound of running water.

"Yea Dad, be out in a minute!," I shouted back. The footsteps stopped.

Preston smiled at me devilishly, and shoved two fingers in my asshole as
deep as they would go. I moaned loudly, caught totally by surprise.

The footsteps resumed.

"What are you doing in there?" my father shouted as he continued on towards
the bathroom.

"U-uh, nothing," Preston shouted back. "I just scared him is all."

"Very well then," I heard my father say. "Hurry it up, you have your game
in an hour. And since Cheryl is again unable to take you, I will have to do
it myself."

"Ok, Dad!"

Cheryl is our absentee maid/housekeeper, whatever you wish to call her. One
can never expect too much of her though, one can rarely find her when she's
needed.

Preston waited for the footsteps to recede, and then took this as his queue
to leave without another word, wink or smile.

Little occurrences such as these became more frequent as time passed. He
would slip into the bathroom while I was taking a shower, or into my bed
with me while I was "sleeping", sometimes he would suck me off in the
swimming pool when he thought no one was looking.

Each time, we would experience more and more together, as if he were
training me for some purpose.

However, while he did cum inside me on several occasions, he still had not
completely made love to me yet.

I longed for that moment. I prayed that the day would soon come. But it did
not. He was waiting for something. Only I did not know what this
"something" was.

The time passed quickly, our routines did not change. Not until I was
eleven years old anyway.

During these times, I was busy with baseball and he was consumed with his
favorite sport: sex.

He simply could not get enough, it seemed. He had more boy sex than I could
have ever guessed, but oddly enough, no one had even an inkling of a clue
that he might be gay. He was simply too good at everything else. The
perfect son, the perfect lover.

Sometimes I think he had it easier than I did. I was the one surrounded by
beautiful boys in the locker room, in the showers. I was consumed with a
powerful, seemingly unquenchable lust, and it was hard to hide this among
my teammates.

At any given moment, I could be caught off guard fantasizing about any one
of them. I loved the way these boys, with their hard young bodies, would
come into the locker rooms after a game, all sweaty and full of spunk. I
loved watching them take off their uniforms roughly, and then begin
"roughhousing" naked as they often did before one of the coaches would
inevitably break it up.

It was fun to take a shower with these boys as well. There were no
individual stalls in these locker rooms, only a single tiled room filled
with a few strategically placed chrome pillars, each holding four water
spouts.

In this room, I had the joy of watching these boys run around, wet and
naked, slapping each other's asses as hard as they could. These teammates
of mine were very light on their toes. I can remember seeing only one of
them slip on the wet tiles. Quite a catastrophe that was.

But Preston, he only had to look at one of his boy toys a certain way to
get what he wanted. At 15 years old, he would come home to describe to me
the day's sexual olympic feats. How he could cum five times inside his
friend's ass, and have plenty more to give.

I admit that I was jealous. I wanted to feel what he felt. But it wasn't my
time yet.

Some nights, he would not come home until after I was already in bed
asleep. A lot of these nights, he would creep into my room and straddle my
ass, only very gently so as to wake me. Little did he know that I was
already awake and waiting for him, laying on my stomach for the sole
purpose of showing off my ass to him.

He would run his finger lightly up and down the crack, sometimes lingering
on my boy hole, while jacking his cock off as hard as he could.

He would lean over just enough to rub the head of his dick into my asshole,
and I only wished he would slide it in. Once or twice, still acting as
though asleep, I would push my ass against him, and he would enter me, but
only so much as I had made him. Still, I loved it.

Usually, he would cum all over my back side. He would wipe it around with
his hand a bit, and end up fingering me with it, his own boy jizz. He would
always leave me with a mess to clean up in the morning. I never cleaned it
up at night, as it was oddly comforting to have some of him still in me at
least.

It was under circumstances similar to these that I did finally experience
something of what he had been bragging about.

He had come into my room late one night, as usual. Only this time, he had
not been out. He simply wanted to cum on his little brother's ass.

I had only recently turned 12, and my body was undergoing some changes
already. I was feeling the lust more keenly these days than I ever had
before. And this was a dangerous thing.

He walked quietly across my bedroom floor to where I was sleeping, and
slowly pulled my cover off. I immediately became aroused.

I could tell that he had already been jacking off by the smell of lubricant
and cum mixed with his sweat. It made me feel good to know that he, my
Adonis, would risk coming to me in the middle of the night, rather than
cumming by himself.

He climbed on my bed as if to straddle my ass again, but this time he did
something different. He slowly spread my legs apart, leaving my tight,
semi-virgin asshole exposed.

I could not see what he was doing. But I heard the sound of him stroking
his dick slowly as he let out soft moans. I imagined him fingering his own
ass, and I wondered for a moment what it might be like to feel my cock
inside that fuck hole. The thought sent my imagination soaring.

I felt him push his cock head gently against my hole. I knew it was going
in slightly, and as excited as I was, I did my best to relax. For perhaps a
fraction of a second, I believed he would actually make love to me. I
thought he would bang my ass the way I'd always dreamed. I burned with lust
for his cock. I wanted to feel his thick shaft ramming up into me. I wanted
to feel his balls slapping against mine. I had to have it.

With these thoughts and desires flowing through my mind, my body seemed to
act of its own accord. I pushed my ass firmly into his groin, feeling inch
after inch of his young, hard, pulsing meat slide into me. It must have
been at least seven inches, even at his age. And thick.

He stiffened. I had caught him by surprise, and now he wanted to pull out.

"Wait!" I said hurriedly, still enjoying the feel of his dick inside of
me. "Just leave it there. You don't have to fuck me if you don't want to. I
just want to feel you inside of me."

He relaxed a bit. "Alright", he muttered.

And with that, he pushed his meat all the way back in, as far as it would
go. I sat up and slid back against him. I loved the feel of his solid,
well-defined chest against my back. The smell of his breath as he leaned up
to kiss my neck and then my lips. I was in ecstasy.

I stroked my own hard prick faster and faster. I didn't expect anything to
happen, but for some reason, it felt better than I could ever remember. It
felt like I had some pressure building up. Like everything was building up
to one moment.

Preston continued to kiss me passionately, holding me in such a way as he
rocked back and forth slightly, which only served to further inflame my
lust. He rubbed my balls and my chest lovingly. I was his, and his alone. I
wanted this moment to last forever. I loved Preston in that moment in ways
I had never known.

And then it happened. Every muscle in my body seemed to both tighten and
relax into bliss in that moment. I was both hot and shivering at the same
time. Heaven could have fallen down on top of my home, and I would not have
noticed. Nothing in this world that I had ever known came close to this. In
that one brief instant, everything became irrelevant. I was shaking with
complete ecstasy.

When my body finally relaxed, I looked down to find my hand, my cock, and
my brother's hand all covered in a thick white substance, that I had known
from my experiences with Preston, to be cum.

Preston was laughing quietly behind me.

"What?" I sounded almost offended.

"Nothing, baby brother. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen! Just
watching you made me cum all up inside your ass again. I didn't even have
to touch it!"

He was right. I felt it now. I hadn't noticed when he had done it though.

"I made my baby brother cum for the first time in his life!" he was proud
of himself. His face was beaming.

I felt an uncontrollable urge to sleep, and I told him this. He only
laughed and lay down next to me. I smiled in the dark.

There were so many things I wanted to say to him. So many feelings I wanted
to share.

He put his arm across my chest and pulled my in close to him. His semi-hard
dick was nestled in my ass crack. His hot breath caressed my back.

He kissed me then, on the back of the neck and whispered into my ear: "I
love you, Johnny."

And without another word, we were off to sleep.

Johnny Baldwin
11/25/99