Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2017 21:54:51 -0700 From: Timmy Elliot Subject: "East meets West" -- part 3 (gay/young-friends and gay/interracial) The following story is a psychological work involving a consentual gay sexual relationship that evolves between a 12 year old American and a 14 year old Chinese boy. The work is entirely fictional, so any similarity of names, characters, or events is entirely accidental. Incidental mentions of superheroes are registereted trademarks of Marvel and DC. If you are offended by any aspect of this genre, please stop reading now! I would absolutely love comments, criticisms, and story suggestions from anyone who reads this work! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Time and time again, Timmy felt like he needed to chicken out. It was odd enough that Elliot was coming over again, but if he showed up before his parents had left. It could very easily be a disaster! Would Elliot just blurt out that they were going to draw superheroes together?! Battling superheroes?! Timmy resolved to call Elliot and wave off the meeting, but then realized he had no clue what his friend's number was. He didn't know his last name, didn't even know his real first name or where he lived. Elliot must have looked up his parents' number by knowing his address. One way or another, it was going to happen. ----- At last the moment arrived. Sure enough, Timmy's parents hadn't gotten out the door on their overnight trip by the time Elliot arrived and rang the doorbell. His dad answered the door before he could get downstairs. "Ni hao ma, Elliot. So you're here to study with our Timmy? Isn't that wonderful. Please, come in." Elliot had just stepped into the entry hall when Timmy got downstairs. Their eyes locked, but Elliot's expression was serene and in control. Timmy's heart fluttered just to see Elliot's handsome face and intense brown eyes again. Unlike his usual black pants-white shirt school attire, this time Elliot wore Li Ning running shoes, red sweat pants, and a black t-shirt. Before Timmy could rescue Elliot and bring him to his upstairs bedroom, Timmy's mother swooped in with a plate of healthy snacks that she set down on the dining room table. Elliot took the bait and set his backpack down on the table, pulling out a mathbook, taking a carrot from the tray, and thanking Timmy's mother politely. To his great horror, Timmy noticed that along with the mathbook, a folded-over piece of drawing paper spilled out onto the table. He knew it was his drawing of Admiral China! Eventually Elliot noticed it too and calmly, discretely stuffed the drawing back in his satchel. Timmy thanked his lucky stars that Elliot had folded the drawing up the last time he left. Just as he sat down at the dining room table next to his Chinese friend, his parents finally announced they were heading out. "Remember, no sleepover," Timmy's dad called out as he closed the front door behind him. The car started and pulled away. The dining room, the whole house, were finally silent. Neither boy moved. Neither boy said anything. "What do you want me to draw?" Timmy finally asked after an unbearable silence. "I want you to draw the two of them," Elliot answered, his voice heavy with anticipation. Timmy started by drawing the form of Admiral China. If the prominent muscles left any doubt of the identity, it was erased as Timmy drew the star's of China's flag stretched across his pecs. "Good," Elliot complimented. "Where's the other?" he asked, encouraging Timmy to move along before the drawing got bogged down in shading and nuance. Now was the critical moment. How would Timmy draw Captain America? How would be draw his hero... his country's hero? After a moment of contemplation, Timmy pushed away the first drawing and started fresh. It wasn't long before the familiar figure of Captain America started taking shape on the left side of the page. His legs were bent in a crouch, his left arm and shield raised defensively, and his face looking skyward. "Oh wow," Elliot murmured. He could already tell what was in Timmy's imagination. With the star on Captain America's chest and stripes on his abs finished, Timmy went back to drawing Admiral China's figure on the right side of the page. After only a few strokes were put down, it was obvious Admiral China dwarfed Captain America. "Oh my god." Elliot hadn't said anything; it was Timmy's voice. "Why did you make such a big difference?" Elliot asked, as Timmy continued to fill out Admiral China's hyper muscular shape. Elliot's voice was devoid of emotion, and Timmy couldn't tell what he wanted to hear. "Why?" Elliot asked again. Timmy's heart started to race as he prepared the words. "Because China is bigger," he said, in a voice laden with guilt. It just seemed like something he shouldn't say, even though his dad has told him it was true. "Mmm..." Elliot answered, apparently in approval. "Because China is the stronger country now," Timmy continued, the guilty tone giving way to a desperate one. To hear himself saying it out loud made him feel truth of it even more viscerally than when his dad had surprised him with the idea the night before. Instead of recoiling from that helpless feeling, now something made Timmy want to embrace it. A weak feeling welled up inside of him, but it felt better to give into it than fight against it. "Because China is dwarfing USA! So Admiral China should too!" he said, raising his voice. "You're right," Elliot responded in a calm voice. If hearing himself say things out loud made him feel weak, then hearing Elliot agree with him allowed him accept it as absolute truth, and the helpless feeling gave way to a feeling of utter defeat. He felt his boycock scratching against his tight underpants as it started to stiffen. "We're weaklings," Timmy said in a mewling voice. "Draw it," Elliot moaned. Timmy pushed the finished drawing away and began work on yet another sheet of paper. Elliot hovered by his side, his deep brown eyes watching every stroke intently. In no time at all, the new picture showed Admiral China clutching Captain America by the neck with one hand, easily lifting him into the air as Captain America clawed with both hands at Admiral China's wrist. Captain America's legs were in wild gyration, his boots apparently a full foot off the ground even though the two heroes were eye to eye. His shield lay on the ground. Every muscle on his body stood out in struggle, and yet they were dwarfed by Admiral China's bulges and ripples. By now Timmy's boy cock was fully hard and pointing straight up against his body inside his pants. Both boys silently admired the picture for a moment. With no cues coming from the older Chinese boy, Timmy grabbed a fresh sheet of paper -- this time drawing something HE wanted to see. It started with Captain America's torso, facing forward, in the background. Then Admiral China's seen from the back, in the foreground, with his hand still closed around Captain America's neck. Then Timmy's pencil started to fill in the details of cracks and fissures radiating out from some kind of a crater around Captain America's body. The moment it became obvious that the scene was showing Admiral China driving Captain America into a concrete wall, Elliot let out a moan, and his right hand moved from the top of the dining room table down to his pants. Between pencil strokes, Timmy looked askance and saw that Elliot was rubbing a large tent in his sweats. It was a relief to know that even if he couldn't explain what was happening to him, it was happening to Elliot too. It was OK. Timmy went back to another drawing. In this scene, Admiral China had released his grip, and Captain America had crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, leaving behind a body shaped crater in the wall above him. Timmy drew Captain face down on the ground at Admiral China's feet with rubble all around him. His shield lay beside him, one of Admiral China's boots triumphantly on top of it. "Admiral China finished him off in no time!" Timmy said, now wanting to be cruel to his erstwhile hero. His free hand involuntarily darted under the table to knead and massage his boycock through his pants. Without warning, Elliot's hand moved to the front of Timmy's pants, and pushing the younger boy's slender hand out of the way, took over kneading and rubbing it. Timmy froze. Even as inexperienced as he was, Timmy knew with a certainty that this was NOT something two boys should be doing together. With Timmy motionless in shock, Elliot's hand was free to push its way inside the waistband of Timmy's pants, now squeezing and stroking the outline of Timmy's small boycock with nothing except the fabric of his underpants in between. "Elliot," Timmy whimpered plaintively. "Ssshhh, it's ok," Elliot cooed, and at the same time his words soothed Timmy's fears, his hand pulled out and then pushed back in with his fingers now probing inside the waistband of Timmy's underpants. In no time, Timmy felt Elliot's warm, slightly rough fingers closing around the small, rigid shaft of his cock. "Oh god," Timmy yelped as he pressed himself back against the chair, as if shrinking from Elliot's touch. He'd never felt anything except his own fingers touch that part of his body, and then only as he was cleaning himself in the shower. It felt so wrong but it felt so good! As Elliot's hand rubbed Timmy's cock, Timmy became aware of a slick wetness slipping and sliding between the skin of their two bodies. It could mean only one thing. "I think I'm peeing!" Timmy called out in crippling embarassment. How could this be happening right now? At least he could warn Elliot. "No, it's something else. It happens when we get hard," Elliot explained patiently. And indeed, the older Chinese boy didn't seem to mind the wetness. Several times he tugged his fingers down the length of Timmy's shaft, which squeezed more of the liquid out and into the waiting palm, which then smeared it up and down the length of Timmy's boycock. "Let me touch yours," Timmy begged impulsively. Elliot said nothing, but stood up in front of Timmy, whose eyes bugged out as he got a clear look at the size and shape of the tent pushing out Elliot's red sweatpants. Timmy thought he could discern the roundness of the shaft inside, but no... it couldn't be... it seemed impossibly big! Timmy craned his neck to look up into the older Chinese boy's deep brown eyes, seeking permission to go further. "No, take off your clothes first," Elliot answered the unspoken question by making a demand first. In a flash, Timmy pulled off his Captain America t-shirt and dropped it on the floor. He shivered slightly as he saw and FELT Elliot's gaze sweeping over the skin of his chest. Timmy's skin was pale and totally smooth, with not a hint of flab but also not a hint of muscle either. He was still too young for either. It thrilled Timmy to feel vulnerable, to be unable to stop himself being looked at. When he saw that Elliot's breathing was racing and the tent in his briefs seemed to have pushed even further out, Timmy knew he wanted to take all of his clothes off. He wanted Elliot looking all over him. He wanted to follow Elliot's order. He wanted to be naked and defenseless. Timmy stood up and bruskly pulled his pants down his legs and stepped out of them, and then with hardly a hesitation, pushed his underpants down to the floor too. Now he was naked as the day he was born. Timmy traced Elliot's gaze and it went right to his boy cock, which was only 2 3/4" long and only an inch wide, so stiff that it stood up vertically almost touching his belly. Now Elliot nodded and smiled. He'd just given permission. As his own cock pulsed and bobbed along with his racing heartbeat, Timmy reached out and tugged Elliot's red sweatpants down. The fabric of Elliot's briefs was even thinner, and did little to hide the shape of what was inside. The outline that had seemed impossibly big through Elliot's red sweatpants was now visible in sharp relief through the tight white fabric. It still seemed impossibly big. Elliot nodded again. Timmy yanked down the briefs, and Elliot's Chinese cock sprang forth, swinging from side to side after it broke free. Compared to his own boycock, Elliot's manhood seemed threateningly big. At 5 1/2" long it was fully twice the length of Timmy's, and it was comparitively so much thicker that it almost seemed to Timmy like Elliot's cock was swolen! It was a dark tan, and the shaft was laced with veins in a way that made it seem almost... muscular. And it still seemed to be stiffening; Timmy could see that the shaft bobbed up and down with each of Elliot's heartbeats, but after each bob it was standing up straighter, longer, and thicker. Curiously, the purple head of Elliot's penis was only partially sticking out of a collar of tan skin that seemed to be stretched very taught around the head. Timmy's cock didn't have that. "Maybe Chinese are born with different penises?" Timmy wondered to himself. Once his curiosity had broached that subject, the next thought pushed its way into his head. "Maybe Chinese penises grow bigger than ours?" The answer, pulsing and growing right in front of his face, certainly seemed to be yes. Timmy had never really wondered what size his boy cock ought to be, but suddenly he felt small. Tiny. Miniscule. "Oh god," Timmy wailed, "You're bigger! Admiral China is bigger. Everything ..." Timmy's words were cut off by the return of that numbing, tingling feeling building up at the root of his cock. All his muscles started to tense, as if he was preparing to fight against something. It felt like whatever was about to happen would be something he'd be embarassed to have happen while totally naked in front of Elliot, but he knew it couldn't be stopped now. Elliot was more experienced, and knew just what was happening to his friend. He quickly grabbed Timmy's small American cock between his thumb and forefinger and started to massage the shaft. Thanks to Elliot's attention, the feeling that been like a dam filling was now turning into the feeling of a dam bursting. "Elliot, I can't stop it!" Timmy cried out, not even sure what he was trying to stop. His toes and legs and back curled up as a feeling like pain gripped him all over. Except it wasn't pain, because it didn't make him hurt. It was like jumping into an ice cold swimming pool, except it didn't make him shiver. It was like having to scratch an itch and finally scratching it, except the feeling was everywhere inside his body. "Something's coming," Timmy yelled out. His innards lurched as if he was falling off a cliff, and a kind of bonelessness took over, making his knees buckle. He stumbled forward into Elliot, who steadied him, and grasped their two cocks together in his hand and kept stroking them together. The smooth, rigid shaft of Elliot's thick, heavy cock was pressed tight against Timmy's little boy cock, like a thumb pressed a little toe. "Ah, I can't... I can't take it!" Timmy shrieked as the feeling gripping his body climaxed. Looking down at his cock crushed against Elliot's, he felt his penis spasm and saw a string of something clear and thick spurt out of the tip. It shot up into the air high enough to land on the head of Elliot's cock. Timmy's cock kept spasming, but nothing else came out after the first spurt. The feeling of pure, defeated, guilty, boneless, painless itch-scratching pleasure was at its peak, and Timmy cried "Unggggggggg!!!!" like an animal too primitive to use words. It was like riding a skyrocketing elevator that came to a stop only moments before smashing into the top floor. Then the elevator stopped just below the ceiling, then slowly started sinking back to the ground. The release of so much tension made Timmy feel helpless, but the pure pleasure of it told him that it was GOOD to be helpless. As his muscles relaxed, he felt like he'd fought against something and been beaten, but the defeat had been a REWARD, not a punishment. He started to whimper. Sensing that Timmy was past his climax, Elliot slowly lowered the American boy to the floor, and knelt over him with his thigs straddling Timmy's trembling legs. Timmy's cock still spasmed, and faint wisps of orgasm still throbbed in him, causing him to try to buck his hips up off the ground to meet the feeling, but Elliot's weight kept him pinned flat. The rational thoughts Timmy had been trying to have as he was hurtling toward his climax had been trapped for a time and frozen in mid sentence, as if they were smashed flat against the seatback of an accelerating car. Now that the climax had passed, the thoughts tumbled forward again. He picked up where he left off when the orgasm hit, with the benefit that his thoughts were clearer and truer now than ever before. "Everything Chinese is bigger," Timmy said out loud in a gauzy whisper. "Now I know how Captain America felt like when he fell at Admiral China's feet!" Elliot broke into a smile. It all made sense. He was small. Elliot was big. Americans were small. Chinese were big. USA was tiny. China was massive. Why had the idea even shocked him before? It felt so good for it to be true. He needed it to be even more true! He knew Elliot would show him the way. (Definitely to be continued, as soon as possible! Thank you for reading!)