Date: Mon, 12 Dec 2016 18:36:05 +0000 (UTC)
From: Beaumonte Bill <oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: First Taste of Cum Part 74

First Taste of Cum (part 74)

This series presents a number of independent stories of about youthful
first blowjobs.  Some of these are inspired by my readers.  I hope you
enjoy this series.

–––––––––– Playing Indians ––––––––––

[I'd love to take credit for story, but it was contributed by my online
friend, Mike P., based on his own experience.]

I'm Mike and had just completed my freshman year of high school.  It was
the summer just after my 15th birthday. I was pretty much a loner, with
friends I socialized with at school, but nobody close.  I didn't really
have a best friend, though I longed for one.  My summer was far from
adventurous, consisting of walking up to the town park, the beach to swim
and tan, going to the local library, watching TV at home, riding my bike
around the neighborhood, or exploring the cemetery.

I was a little behind other kids in developing and hadn't hit my growth
spurt yet. I was 5'4" and 105 lbs, very thin and perhaps a little
feminine. I had longish brown hair and blue eyes.  A late bloomer, having
gotten pubes halfway through my freshman year, but was able to cum and
shoot a load.  My hard cut cock was only 4 inches, with small balls, but I
enjoyed draining them regularly.

One day I met Brian at the library. He was sitting at a table with a pile
of books all about Indians. I also was interested in Indians, having
written a report in 8th grade about the Iroquois Confederacy.  Yearning for
some company and the chance to show off my knowledge of Indians, I
introduced myself. Brian was 13, having recently completed 7th grade. He
was cute blond with blue eyes. He was just an inch shorter than me, but
weighed about 115 lbs, with an athletic build.

We hit it off and soon Brian and invited me to his house.  It had a
detached 2-car garage with a sort of attic that served as Brian's special
hangout.  It was there that we got acquainted. At first, we looked through
some books and shared what we'd read about all kinds of Indians.

"Want to play Indians?" Brian asked, "We can put on war paint and dress as
Indians."

I quickly agreed and Brian showed me several breechcloths he had made as
part of a project for his Boy Scout troop.

"I made them with my mom's sewing machine," he explained, "They helped me
earn a merit badge. They were a simple, small rectangle of tan cloth in
front and back, attached to a thin leather string that tied on one side. I
was impressed with his work and drawn to Brian – he was outgoing and a
leader; I was rather shy and a follower.  It was getting late and I had to
go home, so I promised to play Indians with Brian the next time.

As I walked home I thought about Brian, and wondered if he could become my
best friend.  I really wanted a best friend and resolved to make it happen.

On my second visit to Brian's, we took our shirts off and took turns
painting each other's face and torso, using designs we found in various
books. Brian took charge of our activity and directed me on what to do.  We
had a lot of fun and I was aware of the erotic charge of having another boy
touch my face and chest.  I found my little cock hardening and was glad the
Brian couldn't see my arousal.

On my third visit, Brian got out the breechcloths and told me to strip down
to my briefs.  Brian already had and put on one of the breechcloths, tying
it securely on his hip. The breechcloth hung down from his waist about 12
inches. The cloth covered his backside and his genitals, but the side of
his hips were totally exposed. He looked pretty hot.

After I had stripped down Brian put the second breechcloth on me, tying it
off on my hip. We spent the rest of the afternoon with war paint and
talking about Indians.

On my fourth visit, Brian had us put on the breechcloths again.

"It's kind of dorky to wear underwear," Brian said, "so why don't we just
wear the breechcloths, like real Indians?"

I agreed, and loved the feeling of being completely naked, except for the
breechcloths.

Brian pulled out a book and started talking about how the Indians liked to
torture their enemies. He said we should play warriors from different
tribes and torture each other. He said since I liked the Iroquois, we could
play them. Brian wanted to be a Mohawk because they had the reputation as
the fiercest. He said I could be a Huron warrior. We would wrestle and the
winner would get to torture the loser.

We wrestled in our breechcloths. I put up a struggle but it was inevitable
that the stronger Brian would be the winner. When I cried uncle, he held my
arm behind my back, jerking me up. He tied my hands behind my back. I was
now helpless and a little scared, but I also had a feeling of being turned
on, being almost naked and helpless. I was beginning to get hard and hoped
that Brian wouldn't notice.

The garage attic has wooden rafters and I noticed two lengths of
clothesline had been wrapped around one of the beams and were hanging down.

"You Huron warriors are as weak as women," he taunted me, "and barely a man
at all!"

He then tied one of my wrists to one of the hanging clotheslines and then
tied the other wrist. Soon my arms were pulled up above me as I was
standing with my feet flat on the floor. Brian tied my ankles together,
adding to my helplessness.

"A true warrior would have died in battle rather than being captured,"
declared Brian, "So you will be tortured for being such a sissy coward."

I was really nervous, but relaxed when he said the method of torture was to
be death by tickling. I was extremely ticklish, as Brian quickly
discovered, attacking my armpits and sides. I thrashed around so much that
the knot of the breechcloth string came loose and my breechcloth fell off.

I was now naked and helpless, with my soft 1 1/2" penis with the light
fringe of pubic hair and small hairless boy-sack.

Brian saw me and laughed.  He pointed to me and said, "What do you call
that?  With such a tiny dick it's no wonder you're a coward!"

Brian's began to flick the head of my vulnerable penis and squeeze my
balls. Then he took off his breechcloth to show me what a Mohawk warrior
looked like. Brian's soft cock was thick and about 4 inches with nice balls
that hung down. Even though I was scared and humiliated, my cock got erect
to its full 4 inches.

Brian laughed and said "Even your boner is tiny and useless! I'll show you
a real boner!"

He stroked himself to show me his Mohawk superiority. Brian's hard cock was
6 inches and much thicker than mine.

Then he said he would let me live but that I'd be his Huron slave. He
untied my arms and pushed me onto my knees.  He grabbed me by the hair on
my head and told me I had to serve my Mohawk captor, saying "Suck my dick,
you worthless Huron."

He pulled my face into his crotch and then rubbed his cock around my
face. He held his cock out and told me to suck it. I did. Brian was totally
into it and I was buzzed with submissiveness, the cock slave of a younger
boy.  I really don't know why I did it, but it seemed like the right
response to my situation.

Brian didn't last long. He grabbed my head and stuffed his cock into my
mouth, face fucking me until he shot his nice load, which I swallowed even
before he told me to.  He grew strangely silent after he came, almost like
he felt guilty about it.  Perhaps his Catholic school upbringing was
working on his mind.  He said it that was all for now, so I began to dress.

As I did he continued to mock me.  I realized that he was manlier than I
was, and that I really liked what had just happened.  I wondered if this
was what it meant to be best friends.  That night I masturbated in bed that
night thinking of what had happened. Brian and I continued to play Indians
about 3 times a week, and I was always his Huron slave for the rest of the
summer.

After sucking Brian off most of the summer, one day he took things to a new
level. Standing in front of me with his cock fully erect, Brian said I was
to undergo the "flaming arrow torture," which would make me his squaw. He
had a rubber tomahawk and he greased its handle with Vaseline. I had no
clue what he intended to do with the tomahawk.  Brian moved behind me and
put me in a chokehold. Then I felt his finger between my cheeks, rubbing
Vaseline against my hole. Now I was scared.

"Please," I begged, "not my ass!"

Brian responded by forcing his lubed finger into my hole. I although I was
petrified and began thrashing against my bonds, my cock betrayed me by
getting totally hard. Brian was still talking to me, but I was too buzzed
to know what he was saying. My focus was totally on my boy-hole.

Then I felt something bigger pressing against my hole. It was the handle of
the tomahawk being forced inside me.  Brian wasn't being rough but he was
insistent in penetrating me. He worked the handle several inches into me
and fucked me slowly with it.  He left the tomahawk in me and came around
to stand in front of me. He was hard and wet and started to spread Vaseline
on his shaft. He told me he knew I liked sucking his cock and he said he
knew I'd like to be fucked.

"Your little boner shows you like it already, Mikey, don't you?" he said.

I was squirming in my bonds but my eyes were glued to his hard cock. He
made me admit that I wanted his cock inside me. Actually, I had never even
fantasized about being fucked, but now that it was going to happen, I
wanted it to happen even though I didn't understand what it involved.

Brian got behind me and pulled the tomahawk out of my ass. I felt him hard
up against me. He placed his cockhead against my hole. He bent his knees to
position himself and then thrust up into me. It took him a while to force
his cockhead into me, but once he did, things happened very quickly. He had
hold of my hips and was working his cock up and down inside me. Brian was
able to hold out for awhile even though his breathing told me he was on the
edge. I actually felt his first cum shot inside me. He was fucking me hard
when he had his orgasm. After he finished, I looked down at myself and
discovered I had shot a load of my own while he fucked me. Once he freed
me, Brian got quiet again, as if he thought maybe he'd gone too far. I
dressed quickly, not even able to wipe my cum off me or to clean up my ass,
which was leaking Brian's cum.

I didn't hear from Brian for the next few days. Then I saw him at the
beach. I was laying on my towel when he came up to me. We made small talk,
until he asked me if I had liked playing Indians the other day.  I said I
did.

Brian slipped his foot between my legs and I felt his toes pushing against
my balls as I lay there. He asked, "Do you like ALL the things we've done?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "I liked it a lot."

"Want to do it again?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. By now his toes were pressing down on my balls and I had a
boner.  Brian asked me if I wanted to go to his house right now and I said
yes. So I put my shirt and sneakers on and shook out my towel and followed
Brian to his place, where we played Indians and I was once again submitted
to the flaming arrow torture.

We only kept up the pretense of playing Indians for a few more days. After
that, as soon as I arrived, we would get naked and I would suck Brian's
cock to get it nice and hard for him to fuck me. Once Labor Day came, we
were headed back to school, me to 10th grade at the high school and Brian
to 8th grade at the Catholic grammar school. We never hooked up again, but
I've enjoyed other boys ever since.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Thanks again to Mike P. for this story!

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.  –Bill
(oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)

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