Date: Sun, 21 Jun 2020 16:41:39 +0000 From: kleiner.gespenst Subject: Boy on the Run | Part 5 The story of two boys who met during summer vacation in Mexico. If you enjoy any of the many beautifully written works on Nifty, please consider donating: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================== Hearts racing, breathing like steam locomotives, Brent and Stinson cascaded sweat in the North Carolina humidity. Brent reminded himself the buzzing in his head was only from cicadas, something never heard in Vancouver. Still, he was dizzy from his final workout with Stinson. A five mile run, a 1/2 mile of pool laps, then a 10-mile bike ride took most of the morning, with the veteran triathlete calling frequent breaks for his best friend. Though Brent was a mountain biker and hockey player, he was slammed by the time the boys returned to an empty house. The air conditioning was off, and the still, heavy air was almost as hot and humid inside as out. The boys peeled off their jerseys and kicked off their shoes, and Stinson found a note from his mohter. "We'll be at the Terry's pool party 'til 5. Margie and Lawson with us. Call if you need anything. Love you!" Stinson read aloud, and shook his head. "Subtle, Mom." "What?" Brent said, feasting his eyes on his friend's toned and slender form. Stinson's sweat-soaked red Speedo clung like a second skin to the boy's firm, round buns, and the Canadian lingered on the the snug triangle stretching across his 14-year-old friend's crevice. Brent's dick started unfurling in his own Speedo from the tight ball it had formed with his nuts during their long ride, and his few pubes felt like a cheese grater against his blooming boyhood. "Terry's the principal at Fenton High School. He's Mom's boss, and a total dick," Stinson explained, "and Margie HATES him. They always use me as an excuse to get out of the end-of-summer thing." "And Soooo?" Brent spread his hands asking for more info. "So, she might as well have left a bottle of lube on the counter, dude. They cleared out so we could be alone." Brent doubled over laughing, barely able to reply, "Well, it's almost noon. They'll be home any minute now." Stinson smiled realizing he should be grateful Brent and he had the place alone on the last day before his best friend flew home to Vancouver. He certainly counted his blessings every day for meeting the 13-year-old in Mexico earlier that summer, while both boys were visiting their grandparents in the same retirement community. They'd grown so close, Brent had put off their parting by detouring to Stinson's home for the boy's 14th birthday. Biting his lower lip, Brent dragged his eyes from Stinson's socks, up his boy briny, slim, yet chiseled body, to his handsome pubescent face, and raised his hands toward his friend. "Come here, dude," the Canadian said is quiet, sultry voice. Their arms entwined around each other, hugging and caressing, smiles tugging every muscle in their bodies. Neither boy peered into the future, but instead they lost themselves in each other's gaze. Wordlessly, they communicated through touch, and their young cocks pressed together through their lycra bindings. Lips joined their fleshy melody, silent but for the boys' deeper breathing. Pillowy soft and undulating like wet roses in a breeze, their mouths gently danced for a few moments, fingers gliding down to the other's buttocks. Stinson lightly caressed Brent's tightly wrapped buns with his finger tips, while Brent gently squeezed his friend's firm melons. Their hips pressed together, and their throbbing cocks fused, rooting the boys together into a single surge of desire. "Let's take a shower," Stinson whispered through Brent's long dripping locks. Salt met his tongue, and he savored Brent's flavor. "I'll go first" Brent said, to Stinson's disappointment. "I want you to fuck me in your bed, dude." His dick was painfully hard and almost ripped through his tight little swim suit, and Stinson's heart raced at the thought. With Stinson still sharing a bedroom with his little 9-year-old brother, and family events all week, the boys had made do with fast and furious showers together, and some very stealthy, mutual masturbation at night. "Yeah, much better idea," Stinson said, while Brent turned to hit the bathroom, As he did, Stinson slapped his ass hard. "Don't take too long, or you'll get a spanking," Stinson teased. "You'd love that, you perv," Brent teased, leaving. Actually, Brent thought to himself, that could be kind of fun. Some 20 minutes later, Stinson strolled into the boys' bedroom wearing nothing but a towel tied at the waste. Brent was lying suggestively on his bed, in a pair of orange-and-white-striped hip briefs, drawing a hungry smile from the Southern boy. Brent drew a forefinger along his ripening, cotton-cloaked bulge, raising an eyebrow from Stinson, as well as a bump in his towel. Tossing it aside, Stinson crawled nakedly on the bed like a panther, slow, sleek and hungry. His hardening adolescence waved pendulously from its light little patch of silky hair. His long, sinewy limbs at last came to rest on either side of Brien't tummy, and as he leaned forward, a slight purring seeped from his blood-engorged lips. Brent took Stinson's face between both hands, falling into the boy's liquid gaze, and time froze. Eventually, Brent's tongue tip met his friend's pert nose, and Stinson sighed, closing his eyes while the Canadian feathered his lips with tiny kisses across his face. Stinson ached to take the boy in his arms and squeeze him like an orange. But before he could, Brent pushed Stinson away, and climbed off the bed, a rigid cotton prow leading the way. "I had an idea," the boy said. "We're going to be hooking up by phone until Christmas break. So, let's practice." "Really?" Stinson replied. "We're gonna be doing that every day wishing we were here. Like we are. Right now." "Just for a few minutes, to see what it's like. I promise you can fuck me 'til I can't sit for a month, OK?" He'd never done phone sex before, so he wanted a little chance to explore it before it was all they had. "Ooookay," Stinson replied with resignation, frustrated with quaking need. "What's the plan?" Brent got up and walked to Stinson's desk, while his friend stared hungrily at the slender, barely clothed buns rubbing vertically with each step. Tossing Stinson's phone to him, Brent picked up his own. "I'll go to Margie's room and call you, `k?" Stinson sighed and nodded, and the door closed behind Brent. Margie's bed was buried under a huge pile of unfolded laundry, still smelling of fabric softener. Brent pushed part of the pile over to take a seat, then noticed the 16-year-old's panties, and smiled mischievously. A minute later, Stinson's phone chimed with a FaceTime call from Brent. Answering, the screen filled with the Canadian's face. "Hey sexy," the Canadian said. "It's been like forever since I've seen you," "Shut up," Stinson laughed. "What now?" "I can only see your face, and I want to see more of you. Are you wearing those hot undies I like?" Stinson giggled. "You're such a pain in the ass. Hold on." Brent had a view of the ceiling while he heard Stinson's bureau opening and shutting, then a ruffling of cloth, and an elastic snap. A moment later, Stinson placed the phone on a chair in front the bed, and sat with thighs on either side of the view. Brent's screen was filled with a triangle of fuchsia cotton, straining again a thunderously enraged erection. A bead of dampness was forming at the clear outline of Stinson's circumcised head. At Brent's urging, Stinson had used some of his back-to-school clothing allowance to buy the little hip briefs the Canadian preferred, and they framed his muscular legs and rippling abs perfectly "Mmm. A perfect view. You're so hard. I want rub you through your undies." Brent wasn't breaking character, so Stinson tried his part. "Yeah, I'm super hard, Brent. Just for you. I want your hands on me." The Canadian licked his lips. "Rub it for me, Stinny." Stinson gripped himself gently through his underpants with a thumb and index finger and lightly stroked his length for a few moments. "Mmmmm. That looks so delicious. I just want to kiss it all over." "But now it's my turn. Show me." "You want to see me in just underwear?" "Mmmmhhhmmm." "OK," Brent said, unable to suppress a grin that Stinson knew meant trouble. "But they may not be MY undies." The view rocked and blurred for a moment, as Brent put the phone on the floor, and knelt with spread legs over it. Stinson's screen was filled with a cock straining through pink panties, merging into a line in his butt. Stinson choked as Brent rubbed the camera with his sheer, lace-straining boner, then rested on his heels. Brent giggled, and Stinson's dick oozed from a frame full of panty-clad balls, and a perineum pulling against a single thong line. "Whatd'ya think, Stinny?" Brent sighed. "Do I look sexy, or naughty?" "I think you should get your ass back in here, right now!" Stinson needed to get his hands on his friend's little ass. Brent giggled again, and ended the call. Seconds later, he strolled through the door, tossing his wadded up briefs in a corner, before striking a pose with his hand on his hip. Stinson was torn between laughing and drooling. When Brent turned around, showing off his bare little bottom, Stinson's groaned. With his junk barely hidden, and his ass on full display, the Canadian teased him to the breaking point. "You stole my sister's thong??" He asked rhetorically. "She has a lot or `em, dude," Brent replied with information Stinson really didn't need. "Was I a bad boy for taking them?" "Oh, yeah. A very, very bad boy," Stinson laughed. His friend was so guileless, so completely natural and good humored about everything that Stinson was now comfortable with cosplay he'd otherwise find alien. "Then maybe you should punish me," Brent replied suggestively, turning to swat a butt cheek. "Get over here, you naughty boy. You're gonna get the spanking you deserve." Brent giggled, and feigned surprise. "Oh no, A spanking? Well, I guess I deserve it." Strolling gracefully to the bed, Brent's muscular, pelvic "V" was bisected by a thin, frilly band of pink satin. Stinson sat on the edge, with his feet on the floor, and Brent climbed over his lean thighs. Neither boy had ever received corporal punishment, and really only playful birthday spanks. They were both tense with expectation. Stinson admired his best friend's skinny little globes, rubbing each bun tenderly. "Are you ready?" Stinson asked, actually serious. "Uh-huh. Spank me like the naughty little boy I am." Stinson raised his hand and swatted lightly down on on buttock, and then the other. "You can do it a little harder," Brent urged his friend. When the sting of the next two swats radiated out, he moaned, relishing the fire. Stinson didn't want to actually hurt his friend. At the same time, there was something so irresistibly tender about Brent's trusting helplessness, and something so tempestuous about the rosy glow Stinson brought to the Canadian's perfect little buns. Between each set of slaps, Stinson rubbed Brent's bum, and it almost fell like the heat transferred through his hands into his own loins. His cock lurched and rubbed through his damp undies against Brent's hips. Unconsciously, his hips started thrusting, fucking Brent's hip with each stinging slap. The fire in Brent's bottom surged into every pulsing lurch of his cock, and it's a good thing his panty suspension bridge didn't rest on Stinson's thighs, or he'd have cum after the fifth spank. Pulling the G string into Brent's ass and torquing the lingerie's wedge, Stinson managed ten more slap to each of Brent's buttocks, and the room echoed with boy moans. The Southerner was shaking with desire. The Canadian knew his friend was losing control of his quaking boyhood and quickly got up and pushed his friend back onto the mattress. Straddling Stinson's groin, Brent squeezed his friend's cock through the other boy's briefs with his muscular buns, then rubbed him with his ass. "Go ahead, Stinny," Brent urged the boy. "Cum for me, dude." Stinson couldn't have stopped himself at gun point. Brent stroked him with his bottom maybe four or five times before his nuts flared. His fists bunched with bedding and his eyes clenched shut, Stinson wailed and gasped, and pumped upward into his friend's firm crevice. Jet after jet filled his snug briefs, like the stars filling his eyes. Heaving and flowing, he almost passed out. At last, Stinson collapsed, and Brent rubbed the boy's belly and chest while the Southerner's breathing slowed. "Shit," Stinson muttered. "That was fucking weird and fucking fire, dude. I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry." "Shhhh," Brent whispered. "It was off the chain. You looked so hot." The Canadian lay on Stinson's chest and kissed the boy lightly. Then his lips traced down to Stinson's ear. "You came so hard," he whispered, then kissed his lobe. "I wanna cum that hard." Truth be told, he couldn't shoot anywhere near the amount of ejaculate smearing through Stinson's briefs into his valley. Unconsciously, his hips gently rocked, pressing his hardness into Stinson's tummy. "Let's make that happen, pantie boy," Stinson whispered. "Get up here," he said, pointing to his chest. Brent grinned, and quickly straddled Stinson's ribs, kneeling on either side of the boy's chest. The Southern boy studied his friend's hidden treasures, satin stretching with the beat of the boy's heart. Every bit of Brent's athletic hips, legs and abs contrasted with the delicate pink triangle. He'd seen the hockey player in a fistfight, and he was no sissy, so lingerie seemed totally incongruous. Yet the feminine thong seemed paired with Brent's shoulder-length blond hair, and girlish features. When Stinson cupped him with his hand, Brent trembled. He was near the tipping point, as Stinson could tell from from his friend's high pitched sigh. Enjoying the satiny hardness in his hand, Stinson stroked Brent gently with his palm for a few moments. Brent moaned loudly. "I'm so close Stinny." The brunette guided his friend forward until Brent rested on his hands beyond Stinson's head, and his groin rested against the Southern boy's face. Holding Brent by the buns, Stinson licked along the pink satin missile, from his tender, tight balls, along his 3.5 inches and back. Stopping to moisten a finger with his mouth, Stinson wormed past the string stretched along Brent's bottom, and into the boy's taught little ring. "Ohhhhhh, Stin!" Brent squealed, as the finger pushed into him. Clasping his lips around Brent's lace-strangled head, Stinson sucked and licked his friend in time with his finger plunging in and out of the tight Canadian mine shaft. With his free hand, Stinson gently squeezed Brent's nuts, and the boy squealed. Eagerly pulling all of Brent's pantie-packing length into his mouth, and sucking hard, Stinson tore the boy's pubescent eruption from his churning little balls. Brent's belly and legs flared, and he moaned again and again. His first two volleys squirted all his tiny load, which Stinson could barely taste through the lingerie filter. Stinson swabbed his friend's length with his tongue, milking out the last few dry pulses from Brent's uncut love nozzle. The Vancouver boy almost collapsed on Stinson's face, but rolled over. He groaned as the movement pulled Stinson's finger from his anus, adding a brief flare of pleasure to his exhausted loins. "That was...I dunno. Amazing!" Brent loved the feeling of fabric friction against his cock, and this had been better than humping in a Speedo. "No shit, dude." Stinson's re-engorged cock strained against his tight, wet briefs. Brent smiled and his breath slowed. "Looks like someone's ready for more," he smirked, gently running a finger along Stinson's hardness. He leaned over for a long, lingering kiss, then lay back to admire Stinson's handsome features. Stinson's fingertips feather along the inside of Brent's thighs, while the boys stared into each other's eyes. Everything they felt, and everything they felt for each other radiated between them in a continuous gaze. "I always wondered why they made these for men," Brent said pulling his hand away from the front of Stinson's briefs to snap the elastic around his own waist. "I'm gonna get a pair when I get home," he added. "But for your eyes only." Brent ran his forefinger down Stinson's nose, to his chest, and back to the boy's briefs. "Since we're wrecking my sister's thong, looks like you'll have to keep that, too." "I want you to wreck the fuck out of it," Brent replied. Rolling on his side, he planted a thigh on one of Stinson's, while pulling the boy's hand to his crotch. Then, he combed both hands through his friend's newly cut, short brown hair, and pulled Stinson's face to his. Brent's fingers marinaded in his friend's fresh scalp sweat. Pressed nose-to-nose with Brent, Stinson couldn't fathom his luck befriending such a sweet, tough, wonderful boy. A boy who'd opened up windows into the world around him, and into himself. And he pushed away the reality that this boy would be leaving the next day, and they would be separated for months. If he only knew that Brent felt the same, delirious that a guy so beautiful, innocent and kind was in his life. And yet soon would not be. Their longing and repressed dread of the future took shape in their sealing lips. Slowly, gently, their tongues waltzed, as if they could become one slippery, harmonious dancer. With patient, gentle caresses, tickles and kisses, and deep sighs, the boys teased each other into into turgid need and vibrating hunger. With cocks so hard they hurt, pounding into each other fingers like door knockers, they sucked each other's mouths and tongues, necks and nipples, writhing in each other's arms. "Oh, dude, you're so hard!" "I need you so bad." Climbing up on all fours, Brent raised his ass raised high. "I need to feel you in me, Stinny." Stinson grinned, and knelt behind his friend. Brent's creamy moon tan, triangulated from a Speedo, and darker where his shorts normally fell, contrasted sharply with sun-tanned legs. The slight pink on Brent's buns from their earlier play was a dab of frosting, and Stinson was famished for his friend's anal buffet. Rubbing his palms up from the backs of Brent's thighs to rest on the boy's firm buns, Stinson snaked his tongue into the bottom of the boy's thong gusset, seeking his friend's scrotum. The tip met firm, smooth resilience, and the light tang of fresh perspiration. Stinson twirled and swabbed circles around each of Brent's hairless nuts, making the boy quake and moan, before trailing up the thong trail. Spreading Brent's newly spicy divide with both hands, Stinson swabbed up and down the back elastic for a few moments, before swirling past, to the the boy's tender, clenching rosebud. Brent shivered and sighed from the soft, wet probe skating round and round, opening him as slowly as a clam. When Stinson's tongue breached his gates, Brent gnashed his teeth, and made high-pitched guttural sounds. Tasting a vague soapy flavor, Stinson knew his friend had taken a very thorough shower earlier, and eagerly dove deep into the abyss. Impaled with the soft, wet spear, Brent groaned and pushed back, desperate to be filled with Stinson. "Stinny, fuck me," he begged. "PLEASE!" The Southern boy didn't need any more encouragement, and sat back on his heels and grabbed the jar of Vaseline from his bedside table. Pulling the front of his briefs below his nuts, and smearing a generous glob of greasy lube on his quivering prong. Stinson parted Brent's fleshy sea once more. Pulling aside the thong string and aiming carefully with one hand, Stinson gently pushed into Brent. The Canadian pushed back, and grunted when Stinson's head peaked into the void. Taking a moment for Brent to relax around his circumcised head, Stinson sighed from the crushing pressure on his glans, and rubbed his friend's back. "Go ahead, Stinny," Brent huffed, and Stinson drilled deeply. When Stinson's thin pubic foliage rested against Brent's bottom, and his scrotum nestled in the warm and damp fleshy cove, the Canadian sighed, full and burning. At first slowly, Stinson pulled back and thrust in again, gasping every time from the hot grip on his diamond hardness. With freshly drained nuts, the boys lasted well past the first few thrusts that would have finished them otherwise. Gradually building in rhythm, Stinson plunged and fled, plunged and fled, sometimes fast and sometimes slow. The slapping sound of flesh against flesh, and their high-pitched moans mixed in the hot afternoon air with with musky, sweaty fragrances. Several times they approached their thresholds, and either boy would beg to pause, to let the tide recede. The thong string grated against one side of Stinson's shaft, tenderizing him with added friction. At the same time, his briefs' waistband pulled into Stinson's perineum, working his prostate. Lifting one of Brent's thighs, and holding it firmly against his waist, Stinson moved the friction point to his dick's underside. And he plunged deeper, plowing Brent harder. "Fuck me, Stinny! Fuck me!" Brent cried and gasped, sweat raining onto the bed below. Brent started getting a leg cramp, but he loved the angle of attack, and asked Stinson to pull out for a moment. Lying on his side, Brent scissored open his legs. With one knee between his friend's thighs, and another to the outside, Stinson rested on an elbow, while using his free hand to guide his glistening pubescence back into Brent's hot little hole. Stinson slid into Brent's tunnel easily, and the astonishing heat almost welded them together into a single boy. Resting his other forearm by Brent's chest, Stinson lay gently on his friend's side. Brent smiled at him, biting his lower lip, and squeezed him with his bowels. Stinson shuddered, his eyes closed and his high pitched moan was ragged and shrill. His cock flexed back, and the boys took a few moments to wrestle silently in Brent's depths. Their lips met for a tender kiss, then Stinson pulled rocked backward and forward with gentle micro thrusts. "I can't take much more, Stinny," Brent sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the flaming pleasure his friend tenderly pumped into him. Reaching back, he found one of his friend's firm, rubbery buns, and pulled the boy into him. Rubbing Brent's special place with his pillaging pole, Stinson knew from his friend's climbing, piping notes that Brent's climax loomed. He could barely hold his own second eruption back. "You ready to cum, Brent?" "Oh, fuck, make me cum, baby. Make me cum hard!" Readjusting his weight to his knees and one arm, and sliding his other hand to Brent's crotch, Stinson's slender hips drew back, bringing his knob all the way to the boy's anus. Gently gripping Brent's lightly leaking boyhood through its tight, satin wrapper, Stinson drove in, hard, and pulled back harder. Slamming into his friend again and again, while gently rubbing Brent's quivering tumescence, Stinson was drenched with sweat, feverish, and gasping. "Oh! Oh! Ohhh!" Brent wailed, as his nuts hugged into him. The fire in his ass lit a furious explosion in his nuts, and he shrieked as waves washed across him. His fingers squeezed Stinson's buttock so hard they would leave a line of little bruises. As his cock flared with its minuscule payload, Brent's bowels crushed Stinson like a vice, ripping the Southerner's ejaculate from him with little warning. Stinson's undie waistband pulled into his prostate like a trebuchet, and his cock plumed with fire. Fighting Brent's constricting internal grip, he rammed deeply into his friend, filling the boy with a thinner serving of boy soup. His lips and teeth clasped onto Brent's shoulder like a lamprey, and his saliva sprayed moans were muted by ropey muscle. Again and again and again, their cocks joined the boys' vocal chorus with silent howls. The boys slowed their convulsions, finally stopping and heaving. Still inside Brent, Stinson's briny torso squelched against his friend's sopping back, and collapsed in a cuddling heap against his friend. "Ooooh dude," Brent said. "Yeeaaah," Stinson agreed, kissing his friend on the neck through his dripping blond mane. The boys shared a few quiet moments with tender caresses. Stinson softened, and his flaccid cock retreated from Brent on its own. "Awwww," Brent said. "You got any Superglue, dude? Both boys broke up laughing, and Brent rolled over to face his best friend. "You're such a freak, dude," Stinson said, shaking his head and smiling. "You are kinda hot in panties, though." "Well, I could try on your little brother's Underoos, next," Brent said, giggling. "Freak." Stinson heart pulled drove his lips to Brent's. Caressing each other's broth-sloppy sides, the boys tenderly kissed for long moments. Resting to gaze into Brent's liquid eyes, Stinson quietly asked, "Did you call me `baby,' Brent?" The Canadian smiled and rubbed his little nose against his friends'. "Yeah, dude. You're my little baby." "I guess you're mine, too." They had all afternoon to fight crying like babies by fucking like lions, and by the time their bodies were spent, their souls were inseparable. The future would be hard, but they would make it. ==================================================================== Other Stories: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/hot-tub-cowboy/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/robins-adventures/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/ellis-wakes-up https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/newts-long-weekend/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/dorm-room-fashion-show/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/young-friends/after-the-lakers-game/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/young-friends/terry-shares-his-bits/