Date: Sun, 26 Mar 2006 02:15:15 EST
From: EddyRiha@aol.com
Subject: games with stefan 8

The usual disclaimers apply.  This is a work of fiction, and those folks
who are prevented from reading such fictional works either by age, by moral
preference, or by law should not read any further.

All of the characters presented here are fictional representations,
including the narrator.  Some of the events and characters are inspired by
actual events and people I encountered in my younger days, but the
presentation here of events and characters in no way is meant to portray
actual, historical persons and events.  It's just a story.

All stunts were performed by professionals.  Do not attempt these at home.

No sitcom actors were harmed in the writing or reading of this story.

If anyone is offended by the premise of the story, or by explicit sexual
acts, please do not read any further.

Games With Stefan

by eddyriha

Chapter #8-Weekend at My House (Part 1)

The summer that I was fifteen and Stefan was thirteen, my parents decided
to go on a cross country road trip, heading all the way to California.
Originally, I was supposed to go, but I ended up having some commitments
that gave me an excuse to stay home.  Of course, my father didn't believe
that I was old enough to be left at home alone, but after Mom reminded him
that my grandparents lived only a few miles away, he grudgingly allowed me
to stay.  Still, he did unhook the batteries in the two cars they were not
taking on this trip, while Mom quietly handed me the keys, "just in case
you need to move them out of the garage," as she told me.

No sooner than they were on the road, and I was certain they were not going
to be pulling in the driveway for something they had forgotten to pack, I
set about seeing if Stefan was free to come over.  But no such luck.  His
parents had decided to take him to the summer camp they shared with some
relatives.  So I found myself spending some quiet days home by myself.
Wishing more than anything I was spending them with the boy I loved. . . .

In the middle of the second week, Stefan and his parents returned from the
camp.  It turned out that one of his elderly relatives down in Florida had
died, and so his mom and dad were back to prepare to fly to the funeral.
They couldn't afford to bring Stefan along, and so they were thinking of
dropping him off with another relative in town-the same one with whom his
sister Liz would be staying-when he came up with a sudden brainstorm.

"Why don't I say your parents said I could stay at your house?" he said, as
we were talking about the situation.

"You know they aren't home," I replied.  "Your mom will want to confirm it
with my mom, and then it won't happen."

"No, they are so wrapped up in their plans and stuff that they won't even
bother to check."

Sure enough, Stefan was right.  No sooner had he suggested the "offer" my
parents had made, than his parents agreed and let him go pack his things
for the three days at my house.

So that's how we were standing at my bedroom window when his parents rode
out of the neighborhood in Tina's car, on their way to the airport.

As soon as they were out of sight, I turned to him and asked, "You sure you
want to do this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, my King," he replied.

I kissed him full on the lips, then closed the curtains.  In the
semidarkness of my bedroom, I began slowly undressing him, removing first
his t-shirt, then his sneakers, his white tube socks, his jeans, and
finally his white briefs.  He stood there, hands at his sides, his dick in
its usual erect, waiting position.  I stroked it gently, feeling the
tightness of the skin, the tension in his erection.  But I wasn't about to
satisfy that craving-not just yet, anyway.

While he stood there, I spread a plastic sheet over the mattress on my bed.
It was a protective sheet left over from when my little brother had had
problems controlling his bladder at night.  Now it would serve another
purpose.

Once I had stretched the sheet over the bed, I pushed Stefan down onto it.
I pulled his arms over his head, strapping each one to a side of the
headboard with ropes I'd placed there for that purpose.  Then I strapped
his legs apart, tying each on with a rope to an opposite leg at the foot of
the bed.  Stefan was now unable to move, unable to do anything to resist
me.  He was smiling, as he anticipated some kind of immediate
gratification.

Instead, I walked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.  I was
hungry, and there's nothing that takes the fun out of a good fuck than
trying to fuck on an empty stomach.  So I made up a large pot of spaghetti,
heating separately a pan of meat sauce.  I made the spaghetti with a little
olive oil mixed with the water, which means I don't have to rinse it off
when it is done-I only have to drain the spaghetti in a colander.  But that
afternoon, I rinsed it thoroughly to take off any excess heat.  Then I
traipsed back to the bedroom with the pot of spaghetti in one hand and the
pan of meat sauce in the other.

Stefan was clearly also hungry.  "You cooked us an early dinner?" he asked,
smacking his lips.  "That sure smells good!"

"It's my dinner," I said, "but if you behave yourself, I may share it with
you."  I paused over the tied and stretched boy-then I dumped the pot of
spaghetti onto his bare belly.

He instinctively reacted against the sudden warmth and wetness of the
spaghetti as it slithered and snaked across his skin.  It wasn't too hot:
just the right temperature.  His dick, which was still hairless after being
shaved in an earlier game, suddenly became even more erect than before, and
he might have shot his load on impact had he actually been able to shoot
anything at that point.

I scooped some of the meat sauce and drizzled it onto the spaghetti, making
sure to stir it in well, though I kept some of the noodles free of sauce.
I kept adding sauce until the noodles were well blended with sauce.  Then I
set the pan down, took up a fork, and began swirling spaghetti onto it.

"That tickles," Stefan said.  He was clearly aroused and hungry at the same
time.  But I put the first forkful and the next and the next and the next
in my mouth.

After a few minutes, he spoke up again.  "Are you gonna eat it all?  Aren't
I gonna get any?"

"Oh, does slave want something to eat?" I asked.

"Fuck, yes!" he exclaimed.

I slapped his face.  "Is that any way to speak to your King?"

He immediately lowered his eyes and said quietly, "I'm sorry, my King.
Yes, my King, I would love something to eat."

"That's more like it, slave."  I lay the fork down on his chest and
undressed myself.  Then I swirled up a forkful of spaghetti and held it
before his mouth.  "Here's how this game's gonna work.  You will do
something I want, and then I'll feed you a mouthful.  Got that?"

"Yes, my King."

I moved my erect cock to his mouth.  "Kiss it," I commanded.  And he placed
his lips to the head and kissed it.  "Now open up," I said.  When he did, I
fed him the forkful of spaghetti.

I repeated the process several times before I had him begin licking the
head, then the underside of my cock, and then sucking on each of my balls.
I was enjoying the game so much I almost lost my load all over his face
several times.  But I was doing my best to hold back, since I learned early
on that a delayed orgasm is much more rewarding than a quickie.  (Most of
the time, anyway.)

When between us we had eaten all the spaghetti except for the small number
of noodles I'd not covered in sauce, I set down the fork and picked up a
handful of the noodles.  Taking one at a time, I began coiling them around
Stefan's cock, beginning at the base and slowly working my way up to the
head.  I covered his entire cock, up to the head, in noodles.  He was
giggling at the warm, squishy feel which surrounded his sensitive erection.
"It's almost like a mouth is on it," he said, adding quickly, "my King,"
when I glared at him.  From my vantage point, his prick looked like a
mouth-watering forkful of spaghetti. . . .

Next, I swathed the noodles in some of the leftover sauce, before I knelt
between his spread legs and began licking and sucking at the noodles.
Stefan moaned aloud with pleasure, and he thrust his hips as far off the
plastic sheet as he could.  I felt his asscheeks clench together, forming
those delightful dimples that I so enjoyed.  My hands, which were resting
on each asscheek, helped him by supporting his upward thrust.  I licked and
sucked off all the noodles, and before I had finished, Stefan erupted in a
quivering dry orgasm and in loud shouts of ecstasy.  He kept thrusting his
cock deep into my mouth long after the orgasm itself ended, as he tried to
sustain the feeling as long as possible.

As he subsided and sank back onto the plastic sheet, I licked the sauce off
his stomach, swirling my tongue around in his belly button, and nipping at
his nipples.  His eyes were closed and there was a big smile on his face.
Though his arms and his legs were stretched as far as could be, he had just
had one hell of an orgasm.  I could see why he was so willing to submit to
me, without question.  There's no way he could get off like that on his
own!

In a few moments, after I'd returned the dinner stuff to the kitchen, I
untied his arms and legs and helped him to sit up.  I carried him into the
bathroom, where I was already running a hot bubble bath.  "Time to get
clean, my slave," I said to him.  "Slave is one dirty boy."

He giggled as he ran his fingers across his stomach, which was still
stained with the tomato sauce.

I lay him in the bath water, then crawled in beside him.  Sliding him on
top of me, I began soaping up his chest and stomach, his dick and balls.
He leaned back into me and purred as my fingers worked their magic on his
skin.  Soon he was as slippery as can be.  I then worked my soapy fingers
into his asshole, which was quivering under my touch.  I had positioned my
boy so that his hole was just above my erect cock.  Once I had pushed my
soapy fingers in and worked the lather around inside, I couldn't wait any
longer.  I had Stefan raise his feet and rest them on the wall at the end
of the bathtub.  As he did so, I slid him down so that my cock popped into
his slippery hole.  Stefan figured out what I wanted and began bending his
knees and straightening them, causing his ass to pump up and down on my
cock.  I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensation, my cock inside the
warm and slippery hole of my boy, my slave.  In a minute or two, my efforts
to delay orgasm earlier paid off-I let loose a roar as my cock exploded
into Stefan's ass, pumping out cum like never before, so much cum that some
slipped out of his hole and floated to the surface of the bathwater.

For a while we lay there, Stefan in my arms, both of us surrounded by the
warm sweet-smelling water of the bath.  Then I had us stand up and shower
off all the soap and the cum.  After I dried both of us with my fluffy
towel, I walked Stefan into the living room where, wrapped together in a
quilt because it was a cool evening, we watched a movie I'd rented the day
before.

At the end of the movie, as both of us were yawning, I decided it was time
for bed.  It was a little past sunset, but going to bed wasn't a sign that
the day's adventures were over.  I picked up my sleepy slave and carried
him, not into my room with its twin bed, but into my parents' room with its
kingsize bed.

"Won't you get in trouble?" Stefan whispered as I laid him down on the cool
sheets.

"Nah," I replied.  "I put new sheets on the bed, and after the weekend,
I'll switch back the sheets that were on the bed when they left."  I had
mastered the art of memorizing where everything was in its place, so that
whatever happened while the parents were gone, I could put everything back
enough in its place that they never suspected anything happened.

I crawled in beside Stefan.  "I want to make love to you," I said.

"Yes, my King, please fuck me."

I kissed him, and for awhile we lay there, side by side, our tongues
wrestling in our joined mouths.

Then he whispered, "Please fuck me, my King."  As I leaned over him, he
added, "Please tie me up, too.  I love it when you tie me and fuck me."

I reached over to the other side of the bed and pulled out some ropes, his
dog collar, and his leash.  "Will these do, my slave?"