In the Park

Disclaimer

The story that follows contains consensual relations between males of similar ages. There are both interactions between grown adult males and between similarly aged adolescents. There are no intergenerational relations in the story. Events and persons depicted in this story are purely fictional and from the mind of the author. Any similarity to real people or situations are purely coincidental. The Nifty Archives have provided a venue for many over the past several decades, however, this cannot be done for free. If you have the means, please consider a donation to the kind folk at Nifty so they can continue to provide this service for decades to come. You may do so at: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

If you like the story and wish to comment, the author's email is zach.lucas@anonymousspeech.com

In the Park

I hadn't asked his name, and he hadn't asked me mine.

"When you fucks a girl," he said, "the sperm shoots out of your cock into her. That's what makes babies."

I nodded like I already knew, but until then, I guess I hadn't really thought about how babies were made, and I didn't know shit about sex. I'd never so much as heard a dirty joke or knew enough if I had heard one to know that's what it was. I didn't know what sperm was or how it could shoot out of your dick. The only thing ever shooting out of my dick was piss.

"How old are you? he asked.

"Eleven," I said. "I'll be twelve in November." It was June at the time.

You got hair down there?" He was staring at my crotch. His stare got my dick hard, but it didn't take much those days to get my dick hard. It was hard most of the time it seemed.

"A little," I said.

"How much?"

"Just a little at the top of my dick. It just started growing in. You got any?"

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe a little more than you. It covers my crotch up to about an inch higher'n my dick. Do you play with it?"

"With what?"

"With your dick. Do you jerk off?"

The caused me a dilemma. I didn't want to appear to be a dumb shit who didn't know anything, but I was curious to know what he was talking about. I wanted to know what he meant by jerk off. I chose a neutral reply.

"Uh...not too much."

"Fuck," he said. "What does that mean? How many times a day do you do it?"

Trying to choose what sounded like a reasonable number, I said, "Twice."

He shrugged and said, "I jerk off four or five times a day. I couldn't get by on just two. You ever do it with another guy?"

"Uh...no."

"You want to do it with me?"

"Here?"

He looked around. We were sitting at a table by the playground. "No, not fucking here. Someone would see us. We need to go off in the bushes. We got to take our pants down at least. You could just unzip and take it out, but my shorts ain't got no fly. I'd have to pull them down to get my dick out. Do you want to go over to the bushes?" He gestured with a toss of his head toward some bushes at the edge of the park. "Nobody can see us there. I checked them out already"

I wasn't sure what we were going to do, but I could tell by looking at his shorts that his dick was hard, and I had never seen another boy's hard dick. Hell, I didn't remember seeing a boy's dick except when I sneaked a peek at the boy at the next urinal in the bathroom at school, and then, the kid's dick had been half obscured by his hand.

If nothing else, I'd get to see the kid's dick, and it excited me to think he wanted to see mine so I went to the bushes with him. When we got to them and were safely out of sight of the playground, he said, "Let's see what you got."

"Let me see what you got first," I said.

"We'll take off our pants together," he said. "Undo your jeans so we can pull them off at the same time, but you got to pull your underwear off, too. Pull them and your pants down together."

I nodded: "Okay," I said, and I unbuttoned the top button and unzipped my fly, hooking my finger in the waistband of my briefs.

"On three," he said, and counted, "One...two...three."

On three, we both pushed down our pants revealing our dicks. His was bigger than mine by more than an inch. I had four-and-a-half inches. He had a good six.

Mine's bigger," he said.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Twelve," he said.

And I answered, "That's why. I'm only eleven. Won't be twelve until November."

Later, to my dismay, I found that mine had finished growing. Years later, it's still only four-and-a-half inches, but then, I still had hope that it would get bigger.

He also had more hair than I did. It spread up from his dick toward his navel a good inch -- inch and a half. I just had a few dark hairs right above my dick and a little peach fuzz above that. My dick stood up at a sharper angle than his dick did -- his stuck straight out -- but his was longer, thicker, and heavier than mine. I supposed that was why. One of his balls hung lower than the other. Mine hung evenly.

"Want to touch it?" he said.

I nodded, and he stepped up to me, grabbing my dick. His hand on my dick felt so much better than my hand ever had. I reached out and grabbed his dick holding it like he was holding mine. I felt a surge flow through me like his dick was charged with electricity, like it was magnetized, and my hand was made of iron and couldn't pull away from it. His dick was hard as steel on the inside but covered with velvety soft skin. I loved the feel of it. I guess mine felt like that, but it was mine, and I'd never paid it that much attention. I don't think I'd ever held it like I was holding his, my hand wrapped around it. I held it only with my thumb and first two fingers to pee and had really never held onto it when it was hard because I couldn't pee when it was hard.

He started stroking my dick, moving his hand back and forth. I'd never felt anything like it, nothing that had felt so great. When I did nothing, he said, "Do me," and I began stroking his dick."

Just as pressure built up in my groin, and I thought I was going to explode, he said, "Oh...oh...oh fuck! I'm going to squirt," and white stuff spurted from his dick.

I watched in amazement, but he stopped stroking my dick while he was spurting, and I wanted him to keep doing it. I fucking wanted it more than anything I'd ever wanted.

"Keep going," I said, and he did, and the dam crumbled, releasing a torrent of pent-up tension which was accompanied by intense pleasure. I thought I was going to die, but if I had, I wouldn't have cared. Nothing had ever felt so good. Stuff spurted from my dick, but it was waterier than his. I could see a little white in it, but it wasn't creamy white like his.

"Oh shit...oh shit...oh shit," I said.

"That was your first time, wasn't it?" he said.

I couldn't lie: "Yeah...yeah."

"I thought you were a virgin. Feels good, don't it?"

A little out of breath and weak in the knees, I said, "Yeah."

"Want to try something else?"

"Yeah." I didn't ask what something else was. If it felt half as good as jerking off, I was up for it.

"I'll suck your dick, but you got to promise to suck mine if I do. Do you promise?"

We boys had called each other cocksucker and putting the words together, I'd supposed it meant sucking on a cock, but I'd never thought anyone actually did it. As far as I'd known, they were just words put together to use as an insult, but I found I wanted him to suck on my cock, and if that took me agreeing to suck on his, I was willing to do it. I had just fallen in love with cocks, with both his and mine. I wanted to kiss his. Hell, I wanted to suck on it.

"Okay, I promise."

He went to his knees and took my dick into his mouth. Fuck!

I had thought getting jerked off was the greatest thing in the world, but any longer, it was just okay. Having his hot, wet mouth around my cock was heaven. I had fucking died and gone to heaven.

It didn't take me long to spurt. I both hadn't wanted to spurt so soon and had needed to spurt right away lest I explode. I had a brief thought that I should tell him I was about to spurt but didn't.

Not spurting into his mouth would have been a desecration, an insult to the artistry of his performance. Every blowjob I decided, should end with an ejaculation into the cocksucker's mouth. I have since seen porn where the guy spurted all over the boy's face, and I can understand them wanting to show the cum shot, but I always cried out, "Don't do it. Cum in his mouth."

When I recovered from my climax, I went to my knees, taking his cock in my mouth. He didn't have to remind me of my promise. I loved the feel of his cock in my mouth; I loved the taste of it, a little salty with the taste of something I couldn't identify. I had tasted the drop of sticky moisture dripping from his cock before taking it into my mouth, and that wasn't it. That sticky stuff -- precum, I later found out -- was a little salty and sweet. I think I could drink a glassful of it, I liked it so well.

The feel of his cock in my mouth was almost indescribable, but trying to describe it, I will say, it was delicious. I don't mean it tasted delicious: the feel of it was delicious. The head of his cock was soft. I could feel the back part rimming it, and could feel it drop off to the steel-hard shaft behind it. I decided right then that I loved cock and that I would try out all that I could.

The hurled insults implied that cocksucking was bad, but I was sure that none of the boys I'd heard hurling them had ever sucked a cock. If they had, they would think differently. I had hurled them, but I was now sucking a cock, and I loved it. God had made both, cock and mouth, and they fit together perfectly. A boy's cock was made for a boy's mouth.

He thrust, and his cock hit the back of my throat, and I gagged, but I didn't tell him to stop. Instead, I gripped his ass, pulling him to me, forcing him to slide his dick farther in. Encouraged, he rammed it in my mouth, and I was able to suppress my gag reflex, allowing it to slide down my throat. I buried my nose in his pubic hair. He hadn't done that with my much smaller dick.

He spurted, and I tasted spunk for the first time. It tasted a little weird, but what had I expected it to taste like -- chicken? I swallowed it -- of course, I swallowed it - the first cum I'd ever swallowed. No telling how much I've swallowed since. I've come to love the taste of it. I could -- and have -- eaten it on my cereal. I know that sounds gross, but I had to try it once, and I've only done it once. The cereal spoiled the taste of the cum.

"You want more?" he asked after he had spurted.

I didn't ask him what else he had in mind. I just said, "Sure."

"I'm going to have me some virgin ass," he said and told me to bend over.

Looking back over my shoulder, I saw him spit on his hand before rubbing the spit on my butt-hole. Knowing what he intended -- all our games had involved one of us sticking his cock in an orifice belonging to the other boy - I wondered how it would fit, but he, being the experienced one, should know what he was doing.

He guided his dick to my butt-hole, and grabbing my hips, he thrust. Trying to keep him out, my sphincter fought back guarding the gate to my rectum. It couldn't withstand his mighty battering ram, however, and with each thrust of his hips, it weakened, until at last, the ram tore down the gate, and he was inside me. Until he was, I wasn't thinking I was going to like this game because it hurt having him try to force entry. Once his cock was inside me, however, I loved it. His cock filled me, hitting all the right places (I still love getting fucked doggy style). I dropped my hand to my cock and started jerking off, spurting when I heard him say, "Oh fuck! I'm going to cum."

I never fucked him, wanting instead for him to do me again. He did, and then it was time for me to go. I was already late.

You know? I never learned his name. We never got around to introducing ourselves, and I never saw him at the park again, even though I looked for him. I hadn't seen him at school, so he might have been from out-of-town and was just visiting. Whoever he was, he got my cherry, and I'm eternally grateful to him for taking it.