By Earth-boy
Quick disclaimers:
- This story contains descriptions of sex between teen and pre-teen males. Do not read if you’re under 18 or it is illegal where you’re living.
- Copyright by the author. Do not upload to pay-to-view sites.
- This story is fiction; references to individuals are coincidental.
- No children or teenagers were harmed in the creation of this story.
A common event in this part of the world is the “January thaw.” December, January, and February can be bitterly cold with temperatures commonly getting down to -20° (-4°F) and often as low as -35° (-31°F.) But most years in January we get brief period of three or four days where the temperature goes above freezing. It’s a nice break from the frigid winter. It’s also very messy as puddles form on the streets and sidewalks. Cars get incredibly dirty, side windows on buses become opaque with mud, and pedestrians are at risk for being splashed with muddy water, the stains being made worse by road salt.
The first Wednesday of January was such a day. The temperature had risen to a balmy +3° (37°F) in the afternoon, but had dipped to below freezing after sunset at 5:30. Although it wasn’t yet noticeable, the days were getting longer now that we had passed the equinox on December 21.
Rhett was still a bundle of energy, but he was learning to be patient in the time between my arrival and his mom’s departure. No sooner had she left than he tugged me down to the basement and took off his shirt.
“Getting a bit of a head start, are we?” I asked.
That grin again. “Yeah! C’mon, take yours off. Rawr!”
I knew what that meant. I had no problems removing my shirt and starting in on the wrestling match. A few minutes in Rhett did something totally expected.
“Let’s get naked!” he said.
This time I paused. By now I was used to being naked with him in the bath and reading with him, and we had spent most of New Year’s Eve and all night in the nude. And that’s what I was thinking about. We’d spent a fair amount of time together naked. That combined with my ill-judged exposition of gay sex to a kid young enough to still need a babysitter—followed by some actual sex—made me concerned we were rushing forward far too fast with Sabrina’s idea of me being a mentor to her probably gay son. To tell the truth, I was a little spooked by the fact sex had suddenly become part of our relationship. Just like the other two boy minders had been.
I tried stalling, if for nothing else than to gain some time to think things through more clearly. “Why?”
“Because it’s fun!”
“Uh, I still don’t know,” I responded. “It’s just, well, I’m not used to it. Why do you like it so much?”
“Because I like it when we’re naked!”
“Okay, I understand that. But what do you like about it?”
Now it was Rhett’s turn to think. “I dunno, really,” he said finally. “But I know I like it.”
I pressed the point. “Do you ask your other friends to take their clothes off when they come here?”
“No. But then mom’s here too, and she wouldn’t like it. It’s just when you’re here and we’re alone together. I—oh, I can’t explain it!” He was getting frustrated with my questions and his inability to figure out why he felt the way he did.
I looked him in the eyes. “Rhett, see if you can give me a better answer. You see, getting naked just because you want to isn’t my thing. Sure, I do it for our bath, and when I read to you before you go to bed, but other than that don’t you think we should just keep our clothes on?”
A storm suddenly came over his face. “Why?” he cried. “WHY? It’s just us here!” He threw the question back at me. “Why don’t you like it? I loved it when we were wrestling naked last week and when we watched the movie. You felt so warm and I loved feeling you on my back and your arms around me! And I thought you liked it, too!” And just as quickly his demeanour changed again. He started to cry. “Don’t you like me any more Chad? Are you gonna go away like the other boy sitters?”
His eruption floored me. Instantly I regretted pushing him the way I had. A minute ago he was just a kid who’d made a simple, if unusual, request. Now he was rattled, confused, frustrated, angry, and frightened all at the same time. And I was suddenly out of my league. A happy nine year old I could deal with. This was totally different and I had no idea what to do. Give him a timeout? Let him cry it out? Hug him? Call my mom for advice? And I was scared I’d do the wrong thing and just make things worse.
So I acted on impulse. “Rhett! Rhett! Please don’t cry,” I implored. “I’m sorry!” I scooted around, got behind him, and pulled his bare back against my bare chest. I wrapped my arms and hands around him, trying to hug as much of him as I could, and buried one side of my face in his hair so I speak softly in his ear. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, close to tears myself for getting him so upset. “I still like you. I’m not going to go away.” I was perilously close to babbling. “Don’t be mad, Rhett. I like you. I’ve liked you ever since I met you and don’t ever want to make you sad. Please don’t cry …”
We must have passed five minutes like this. Slowly we both calmed down and I felt Rhett relax into me.
“You still like me?” he asked softly.
“Of course I do, Rhett. Very much. You’re the nicest, funnest boy I’ve ever met. I don’t ever want to hurt you or see you get hurt.”
“So you’re not going to go away?”
“No. I’ll be your babysitter for as long as your mom needs me. I’ll be here to play with you, take baths with you, and read to you. And wrestle with you. Naked, if you want.”
“You don’t have to,” he said.
I nuzzled at his ear though his long red hair. “But you’d like it better if I was, right?”
“Yeah.”
I realized my problem with us being naked was me. Like so many other boys before me, I’d made the mistake of equating nudity with sex. We could have just as much fun naked as clothed, and enjoy our time together that much more because Rhett revelled so much in physical contact with me. As for sexual activities, I could manage those as they came along.
“Then let’s do it!” I said. I leapt to my feet and pulled my pants and underwear off in one go. I followed with my socks a moment later.
Just as quickly Rhett was himself again. “All right!” he cried with glee, and his clothes came off too. “RAWR!” And we were back at it again.
The only real fallout from his little meltdown that evening was neither of us felt like doing anything sexual. After our wrassling bout we went upstairs, careful to bring our clothes with us, and relaxed for a short time to watch part of a movie while cuddled together in the easy chair. Bath time was at eight as always, and I read to him naked in bed until nine, when we got dressed. I tucked him in and we kissed good-night. Knowing I could trust Rhett to go to sleep, I went down to the basement to do some web surfing on the computer until Mom and Sabrina returned and I got a ride home.
The following week started out much the same, with Rhett taking me downstairs as soon as his mom kissed him good-bye and left with my mom. Like as the week before he removed his shirt as soon as were were in the basement, and I did the same. Making a small show of loosening my belt, I went over to him and put my hands on the waistband of his pants.
“May I?” I asked.
“As long as you let me do it to you!”
“Go right ahead!”
Rhett swiftly pulled down my pants and underwear, and I stepped out of them. When we stood up again my erection poked him in the stomach.
Rhett put on a big smile. “Looks like you’re happy to see me today!”
“I am!” On impulse, I caught him under the back of his knees, set him down on his back, and tugged at the hem of his pants. They didn’t go anywhere—they were still closed and the fly was zipped up.
“Well,” I said, “that didn’t work out the way I expected it to!”
Rhett laughed. Still on his back, he finished undressing. He got up and faced me, then with a grin cried out, “RAWR!” He leapt at me, I caught him, and together we went down to the carpet. I did my usual thing of staying on my knees to give Rhett an advantage, which he used without giving me any quarter. Quickly I got into the swing of things and my erection subsided, and we were just two kids roughhousing in the basement.
Tonight he was the one to call for a timeout. I wondered why; it felt like we’d been wrassling for only fifteen or twenty minutes, and he could easily go half an hour. We just sat there on the carpet, sweaty and getting a little chilled in the cool basement.
Then Rhett leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
“Can we?” he asked. He curled his hand around my penis and started playing with it. Did that ever feel good!
“What all do you want to do?”
“Not sure, really.” He was getting hard as well. “But I know I wanna do something.”
The resolution I’d made last week to “manage” our sexual activity evaporated as Rhett’s obvious desire for sex play crashed headlong into my own. “Let’s grab our clothes and go to your bedroom.”
I had Rhett lay down on his back on the bed. Straddling him, we started with a deep, long french kiss. While we played with our tongues, I lowered my back so I could rub my erection on his stomach. Like me, he was hard as well, and I enjoyed the feeling of his small penis against me.
I started kissing and licking his earlobes before going down to his neck. I wasn’t really sure of what I was doing because I’d never done it before; I was going by a mixture of instinct, gay porn I’d watched, and sex scenes I’d read on Nifty.
I ran my lips and mouth lightly across his collarbone, then moved lower and licked his left breast. Rhett let out a small gasp. I licked and sucked on his breast a little more, them moved to his right one while I ran my palms along his sides. His breathing deepened a little. I went lower, kissing his belly button and blowing on it. Finally I made it to his very hard penis.
I engulfed it with my mouth and started going up and down. Rhett let out some small moans. My tongue found his foreskin, circled around it, then worked it back to expose the head. I heard an “Ooohhh!” from him; he was really enjoying this. I ran a finger between his butt cheeks, found his anus, and stared stroking it. But I didn’t enter him, wanting to draw out his pleasure. I put my other hand on his chest and played with one of his nipples; he started breathing even faster.
After a few minutes of being pleasured from in three places at once Rhett was starting to go wild. His moans increased in length and volume and he was squirming on the bed. I tightened my lips on his penis, and on every down-stroke rolled my tongue around the tip. Very gently I began poking at his anus, but I hadn’t whetted it or my finger so it wouldn’t go in.
Finally we had our reward. Rhett let out a sudden cry “Aaahh!” and I felt his penis twitch in my mouth. He bucked his hips; I continued stroking his anus while trying to keep his penis in my mouth and prolonging his orgasm as far as I could. After I heard him gasp three times I knew it was over and stopped all motion, aside from slowly and gently disengaging my mouth.
I lay down beside him, my rock hard erection against his side, while I carefully laid an arm across his chest. Lifting my head, I found his lips and kissed them.
“Did you like it?” I asked.
“It was—I can’t even describe it,” he replied.
“Don’t even bother trying. You can rest up if you want, but I have to do something or my penis is going to explode.”
“I’ll do it,” he said. “Sit down on my stomach.”
I got on my knees, one on either side of him, and carefully lowered myself on his hips, which I knew would support my weight better. It also let me feel his half erect penis under me. As soon as I had done so Rhett grasped my own on the foreskin and with a measured pace began masturbating me.
Although he’d already done this to me twice before, this time it seemed different: it appeared he was determined to pleasure me the same way I’d done to him. His hand was all over my penis from the very tip all the way back to its base. He put other hand on my smooth testicles and began rolling them.
“Too hard!” I said, catching the hand playing with my balls. “These things are delicate! Try putting this hand on my penis as well, at the base. Then move them back and forth toward each other and away.”
Yes, I used the word penis. Somehow it seemed more sexy using it with Rhett than saying cock or dick.
He added the second hand and did as I asked. That’s all it took. My orgasm started right there and I shot four volleys all over his chest. I had to get him to stop stroking me; he didn’t realize just how sensitive a penis is right after a climax.
I settled down pretty quickly. “You seem to be a bit messy there, kiddo,” I said. “I think you need a bath.”
“No way!” he said with a smirk. “I’m a little boy, and little boys don’t like taking baths.”
“Oh, we’re being naughty now, are we? I’ll just have to carry you into the bathroom, take your clothes off you, and force you to have one!”
Rhett laughed. “The second part’s already taken care of! But I’d love you to carry me.”
Which is what I did. After that it was just a regular bath for us. As always, after we dried off I read to him in bed until nine o’clock. I put my clothes on and he pulled on his pyjamas.
Rhett had one more little surprise for me. As I was about to pull the blanket over him, he said, “Wait, I want a couple more kisses tonight.” He flipped over on his stomach and looked at me. “Go ahead!”
A little confused, I bent down toward his face.
He grinned. “No, not there. The other cheeks!”
“Oh!” I felt foolish for missing his obvious intention. I gently drew his pyjama bottoms down and firmly planted a kiss on each side of his bum before covering it up again. Rhett went on to his back.
“Do you want me to kiss your penis, too?” I asked.
“No need to. It’s had enough fun for tonight.”
“All right.” I drew the bed covers up to his chest and patted them down. I kissed him on his cheek as I’d done every other time. “Good-night, Rhett. Pleasant dreams.”
He kissed me back. “Good-night, Chad.”
By the third week of January we were in a cold snap. Since Saturday the overnight low had hovered around the -30° mark (-24°F), while during the day the thermometer struggled to make it past -25° (-13°F.)
In weather like this, winter changes from an inconvenience into a mad dash from one heated building to another. Going outside requires dressing in a manner not unlike putting on a hazmat suit. For me, typical outdoor attire was undershirt, regular shirt, sweater, parka with a fur lined hood, scarf and heavy mittens, while on my legs I wore snow pants over my jeans.
I could see my breath as water vapour condensed in the freezing air every time I exhaled, and frost collected on the scarf over my mouth. Every vehicle on the road left behind it a trail of ice fog from the tailpipe whenever it pulled away from a stop. In the frigid cold everything seemed to freeze solid. With denser air and few soft surfaces to absorb waves, sound travelled much further: I could easily hear the roar of jets taking off at the airport and air horns from trains as they rolled through town.
But even in these conditions the city doesn’t stop; it merely slows down. Mom and Sabrina’s Wednesday night art club get-togethers were still on, so like the previous weeks we headed over to their house. As usual they dropped me off to look after Rhett while they continued on to their function.
As soon as I entered the house and removed my outer winter wear, I had to follow up with the sweater. When the weather gets cold like this people often lower their thermostats to avoid large energy bills caused by too much heat escaping the house. But Sabrina hadn’t done that; if anything it felt like she’d bumped the temperature by a an extra degree or two.
“Is it hot in here tonight?” I asked Rhett. We were still upstairs.
“Yeah, it is. I reminded Mon you find the house cold so she said she’d warm it up for you.”
“I think she overdid it,” I replied. “It’s hot enough to go naked!”
“Sounds like a good idea to me!”
We went to the living room where I drew the drapes closed. We undressed, throwing our clothes into two piles on the couch.
I asked, “Do you have any ideas for what to do for the next—” I checked the time “—forty-five minutes until bath time?”
“Let’s see,” Rhett replied. “I can think of fun things to do naked.”
I looked at him in mock confusion. “But I usually read to you after your bath, not before.”
“Funny! C’mon, let’s go to my bedroom and play.”
I picked up both sets of clothing and followed. Over the past week I’d made a conscious decision to let go the idea of merely letting Rhett lead. I knew just how eager he was to learn about sex, and I wanted to learn along with him. Even if it meant teaching him new things instead of waiting for him to ask first.
I threw our clothes into the bedroom and asked Rhett to come with me into the bathroom, where I put warm water into the sink.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting ready for a bit of fun.” I soaped up my hands. “Bend over; I’m going to clean your anus.”
He obliged. I washed his little rosebud on the outside and a little bit in, and rinsed it thoroughly. “Now let’s go to your bedroom!”
I got on my back on the bed, my erection pointing straight up. “All right,” I told him, “now get on your hands and knees with your feet by my ears, and put your bum in my face.”
“You want me to sit on your face?” he asked.
“No, I said hands and knees. Play with my penis, or suck it if you want—but mind your teeth! I said ‘suck,’ not ‘scrape’!”
Rhett positioned himself as I asked, and in moments I felt a hand and his warm little mouth on my erection—and gasped. This felt a lot better than I thought it would! So much so that I almost forgot about what I had been planning for him this evening. While he pleasured my frontal bits, I put both my hands on his hips and pulled them back, bringing his hot little rear to my face.
It was so beautiful. I took in the sight of that oh-so-cute pink muscle and the short space beneath ending in his small scrotum and fully erect penis. I wet a fingertip and circled his anus with it, eliciting a moan from Rhett. Then I pulled him even closer.
First I smelled it. There was only a hint of a musky odour due to its recent wash. Finally I started into what I’d been dreaming of for three days now, putting my tongue on it. Slowly I began licking.
I felt Rhett’s mouth immediately leave my penis. “Oooooh!” he cried.
I licked that hot closed hole up, down, sideways and around. There was very little taste, but the texture was awesome. I felt Rhett’s mouth on my penis again, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through my body. His lips slipped over the head and went a little further, then went back again.
I upped the stakes, forcefully driving my tongue against his anus, willing it to enter. Once more Rhett jumped at the feeling, disengaging from my penis and crying out. Then I licked my way down toward his testicles and ran my tongue all over them, while Rhett’s breathing went deeper.
I decided it was time to bring him home. I grasped his foreskin and started stroking, at the same time planting my lips on his anus and driving at it with my tongue. Rhett let out small cries as pleasure grew within him. With my other hand I found one of his nipples and began stroking it, while slightly increasing the pressure on his penis.
“Oh! Oh! Oohh! AAAHHH!” he cried as the orgasm hit and coursed through him, then a long moan as it spent itself. Quickly, carefully I put both my hands on his chest and half pushed, half rolled him off me on to his side on the bed, letting him relax completely in the aftermath of his climax. I went on to my side as well; my head was at his feet, my penis pressed against his chest.
I was far too excited to wait for him to start on me. I began masturbating furiously while my other hand massaged his bum. In mere seconds I shot all over his beautiful boyish chest.
The cold snap had eased, with daytime temperatures ranging from -14° to -12° (about 7°F.) Still cold, to be sure, but a nice change from the mind-numbing deep freeze of the previous week. It was the last Wednesday of January.
“I want to try something a little different tonight,” I said as we finished a brief naked wrassling bout in the basement. “Do you know what a massage is?”
“I think so,” Rhett replied. “You just run your hands over my back.”
“That’s part of it. A full massage does all of you. I want to try giving you one.”
“Hmm … all right.” He didn’t sound very convinced.
I’d come prepared with a small bottle of mineral oil purchased at a dollar store. I poured about half of it into a bowl and put it in the microwave to heat it up. Then I got some towels from the bathroom and spread them over his bed.
“What’s that?” asked Rhett when he saw the bowl I’d prepared.
“Baby oil. It makes the massage a lot nicer because it reduces friction. It also makes it a bit easier on my hands.”
Now Rhett was interested. He put a finger into the warm oil, withdrew it, and swirled it on his tummy. He smiled. “That’s nice!”
“That’s because I warmed it up. You know, I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“If vegetable oil is made from vegetables … what’s baby oil made from?”
“Gross!” Rhett laughed once he figured out the joke. “And wouldn’t it be, like, red instead of clear?”
I giggled, then had Rhett lay down on his stomach.
I was by no means an experienced masseur, but I’d watched a couple of videos so I had an idea of what to do. Starting from his shoulders, I applied warm oil to his lovely smooth skin and simply rubbed it in. Sometimes I did circles with my hands; other times I ran my palms from his bum all the way up his back and down again. Rhett’s initial skepticism quickly turned to appreciation and soon he was moaning softly at my ministrations.
On my part it was incredibly sensual to be able to feel him so thoroughly. I drank in the view of his naked body (even though by now we’d probably spent more time together that way than we had clothed.) At the top his brilliant red hair fell gently on his shoulders. Like most redheads his skin was very white, but unlike others was almost entirely free of freckles. I actually found him a bit too white for my liking, and knowing that gingers tend to burn instead of tan I was a little sorry to think I’d never see him darker than this. The whole of his back was spotless. The pert little mounds of his bum looked like tiny snowbanks; they reminded me of moguls at the Winter Olympics. His legs were smooth with very little defining muscle, and they ended in a pair of very cute little feet.
He was so beautiful. I got hard. I wasn’t at all concerned about it; in fact, my erection only added to the pleasure I was getting from massaging him.
After finishing the backs of his legs, I asked him to roll over so I could do his front. Naturally the first thing I looked at was his penis. It was still soft, a notable contrast to my straining erection. Then I looked at his face; his eyes were closed and he wore a contented smile.
I spent a few minutes on his chest, stomach, hips, legs and feet, and for good measure finished up with a bit of warm oil on his private parts.
“How’d you like it?” I asked when it was done.
Rhett was all smiles. “Wow! That felt great! I was, like, all ready for sex, but that was almost as good.” He spied my penis, no longer erect but certainly not soft either. “Looks like you enjoyed it, too!”
I smiled. “Oh, yeah, I did. Oh, I just love feeling your body.”
“And I love it when you touch me! See why I like being naked with you?”
“Oh, for sure! Now we need a bath to get the worst of the oil off you.”
I gasped when we entered the bathroom. With the oil still on Rhett’s skin, in the brighter light of the bathroom he literally shone. He looked like an angel. Or, given that he was naked, Cupid.
“You look amazing!” I cried. “I have to get some pictures!”
I ran back to the bedroom to get my cell phone. With its camera I took a dozen photographs: front and back, with his arms by his side, crossed over his chest, raised up, and hands behind his head. Then I brought in a chair from the kitchen, set the phone on it with a pot behind it to hold it up, and using the timer got some shots of us together.
After that it was just our normal eight to nine o’clock routine. We took our bath together and I read some more to him in bed. Then I tucked Rhett in after giving him the mandatory kisses on his bum, and we kissed and bade each other good-night.
As soon as I got home that evening I downloaded the pictures to a secret area on my computer and deleted them from the phone. Within a year I found some software that let me set up encrypted containers, and my treasured collection of Rhett nudes is now there. He has a copy, too. I have no idea if he’s ever showed them to his mom.
(There’s also a copy on my HamsterHoard account, but because it’s encrypted I’m not afraid of anyone stealing it. No, I’m not giving you the URL. And the encryption key is not Rhett2005. 😛 )
Comments are welcome at earth-boy-2755@protonmail.com, and constructive criticism as well. As I’ve mentioned before, this story is complete (12 chapters in all.) But as of the date I’ve posted this, I can entertain suggestions as long as they don’t break the established plot or have a serious impact on the remaining chapters.
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