Date: Tue, 06 Feb 2024 21:03:01 +0000
From: kleiner.gespenst <kleiner.gespenst@protonmail.com>
Subject: Justin's Journal | Part 5

A young boy's secret diaries open a window onto his middle school life,
and documents his first real love. This story features consensual sex
betwixt tween boys. If this work of utter fiction violates your local
laws or your moral code, close the tab.

If you enjoy this story, or any of the works here on Nifty, please chip
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======================


After admitting we loved each other, that February in 1989 roared by
faster than an avalanche. But counting the hours between moments with
Justin was like counting snowflakes on Lookout Express. I gave up some
optional workouts with my swim team - mostly weights, because, ugh,
weights. That gave us Wednesday afternoons, and sometimes Friday and
Saturday nights. Never Sundays, because that was a holy day for Justin's
parents, who upped the Jesus ante with his confirmation class, while my
family kept that day sacred for our season lift tickets at Sun Valley.

Fucking Idaho. Most people were religious, which left Justin in the
lurch. He saw God in everything around him, and spread simple kindness
everywhere he went. Meanwhile, his parents and their congregation
vigorously condemned LGBTQ people for simply existing. How did he keep
the faith as a secretly gay 12-year-old back then? Love, I guess. And not
just love for me, but for life, and even love for his intolerant parents.

"Nobody's perfect, Tommy," he'd say. At the same time, I thought he
was perfect, but I didn't argue.

That slender and sexy 7th grader, so willowy and yet athletic, was wise
for his age. He knew me better than I knew myself. Insight is probably
what would make him a successful officer in the Marines, later in life.
It certainly made him very intuitive about my body language. Within days
of our reconciliation, we were mackin' and gropin' and strokin' and
suckin' whenever we had a rare moment alone, and he always had me
begging for more.

I also have to point out that as late blooming almost-13 year-olds,
neither of us were yet swayed by the hormonal hurricanes yet to come.
Both of us could go days without touching ourselves, crashing dead asleep
at bedtime, exhausted from school and sports. I'd just started shooting
wee squirts of watery juice, and when the urge to purge took over, I'd
race for the itchy climax as quickly as possible. But when Justin and I
were together, our emotions took shape in our young, smooth bodies, and
we spent all the time we could making each other quiver.

I'd learned first hand from the college boy renting out our granny flat
that enjoying the journey made the destination much more intense. And
very quickly, Justin not only adapted to the ways I teased him by
withholding his climaxes, but soon mastered slow and patient sexual
vexation.

All that aside, sex or no sex, I simply loved being with Justin. That
slender soccer player was kind, funny and beautiful, with full lips and
liquid eyes, and a smile that warmed up a room. When we'd had our
falling out months earlier, we'd both had long hair reaching our
collars. Then Justin got a short hair cut, in a sort of physical
separation from me. I wouldn't notice for another couple of weeks, but
since we'd gotten back together, he'd stopped going to the barber, and
was growing his hair out, again. At the same time, since he'd taken to
wearing black jeans (hard to find in Boise, back then), so did I.

At least we weren't finishing each other's sentences. Yet.

Anyway, when alone, I fully envisioned Justin in my bed or bathroom, and
masturbated with urgency and little technique other than varying the
speed and grip. Meanwhile, Justin was boldly going where no hands had
gone before - on me, at least. While everything I knew about manual
techniques was wisdom received from my 21-year-old tutor, my best friend
was creatively experimenting on himself, noting what worked and didn't
in his journal.

_ _ _ _

March 1, 1989

We finally won against the North Wolves! [A long paragraph follows,
recounting the game that Saturday morning].

This afternoon with Tommy was epic! I used the Panini Press and the
Barber Pole on him `till he was begging me to make him come. When I
finally did, I licked him and played with his nuts 'til he filled my
mouth with sperm. Maybe I'm a pig but I like the flavor. It's a little
sweet, and feels like throat snot. Now I'm grossed out. Ha ha.

Anyway, it's almost bedtime, and I have to say my prayers with my
parents and Mia. Afterwards, I'm going to try out clothes pins on my
nipples when I jerk off. Tommy loves it when I pinch his, and maybe this
will be even better.

_ _ _ _


Spoiler alert: it wasn't. When he slept over a few days later, he
recounted the failed clothes pin experiment, and how much it hurt. We
howled with laughter, then smothered each other with kisses.

Anyway, on the afternoon he notes above, we had to be totally discrete.
His pre-school sister Mia and a friend were playing on the other side of
the den, and Justin had to babysit both of them. But this wasn't the
first time we'd pulled a blanket over ourselves, while cuddling on a big
reclining chair.

Our lips would meet for quick pecks, and slightly longer smooches, but
quietly. Content to lightly rub our smiling faces together, we ignored
the cackling nonsense across the way. But I couldn't ignore Justin's
gentle squeezes through my jeans, while his other hand caressed my
slender chest, under my t-shirt. I was doing the same to him, relishing
the way his abs seemed to undulate when his breath grew deeper. Then, I
slid my fingers down to the front of his trousers.

He was so hard in my fingers. It felt like a warm roll of quarters
pulsing through denim.

I could barely stifle a savage moan when he pinched my nipple and gave it
a light twist. He was right - I liked the sharp flash of pain, mixed in
with the way he rhythmically squeezed my diamond hard cocklet. Unlike me,
though, Justin preferred light finger tip caresses around his hardening
cones.

Eventually, we started stroking one another through our trousers, with
firm thumb-and-index-finger grips. We did it so slowly, so maddeningly,
frustratingly slowly that we occasionally giggled at one another, and Mia
asked if we were having another "tickle fight."

We pretended to watch whatever Nickelodeon show was on the TV, while
unbuttoning each other's jeans. Justin's prong lurched out of the
v-shaped opening, stretching his undies with blood-engorged desire. My
finger feathered over softy, steamy cotton, and I stroked around his knob
through the stretchy material. God, there's nothing like that feeling of
snug briefs sweat-glued to a boy's throbbing glans.

Justin slid his flat hand into my jeans, and gently rubbed my turgid
prong with his palm.

Occasionally, Justin checked his watch, ever mindful of our 6 PM
deadline. Yet he was in no hurry, so I never bothered asking the time. We
simply teased one another with glacially slow friction, randomly
shuddering from waves of endorphins.

But eventually, my balls were constricting into me, desperate to
ejaculate. Very quietly, I begged Justin for relief.

Turning his head with a grin, he pulled his hand off my dick, and mine
from his, and insisted we watch The Power Rangers for a while.

Doh! The worm was turning, and I pretended to fume with anger. He sighed
with mock exasperation, and we both chuckled.

"OK, you big baby," he whispered, and kissed my ear. His index
fingertip slowly skated down my quivering prong to my balls, where he
tickled each through my snug little briefs. Sliding back up, his finger
snaked under my waistband, and tickled my tip. Then, he started something
his journals refer to as the "Head Scratcher."

Carefully using his fingernail like a surgeon deploys a scalpel, Justin
scratched the underside of my cock, focusing on the tiny area where my
glans joined my shaft. He'd already tried this move out on me, and knew
the immediate effects it would have. Justin's free hand was already
covering my mouth to stifle my groan when rhythmic sparkles shot out of
my groin. My leg muscles strained and kicked.

I would have grabbed his junk and jerked it ferociously, but Justin had
curled down under the blanket. He pulled his spare hand away from my
mouth, to push the hem of my t-shirt up to my collar bones. In that
position, I couldn't reach past his shoulder.

Still scratching my frenulum, Justin caressed and kissed my ribs for a
moment.

I gasped automatically when his lips engulfed my left nipple, sucking on
it like a lamprey. Nibbling and licking and quietly slurping on it,
Justin created an arc of electricity between my blood swollen groin and
nips. As the surging ecstasy mounted, my hips started grinding on their
own, demanding more friction from that scratching finger. I held my
breath to stifle a loud moan - and then Justin worked on my other nipple.

Thankfully, the girls were too pre-occupied to notice the thrashing
middle schooler 20 feet away, and Justin finally released my breast
button from his lips. I quietly heaved and begged him again to let me
cum.

He merely chuckled, and pulled my 2-inch love muscle up, so my waistband
scraped down to my smooth, round scrotum. Emerging from the blanket, he
quickly scanned the other side of the room, and spied the girls deeply
immersed in some fantasy involving stuffed animals.

Justin's lips met mine for a long, lingering kiss. When our tongues met,
I felt his fingers pulling my circumcision scar over my glans. My quaking
rod thundered in its astonishingly tight skin, and we kissed harder.

Letting my shaft skin snap back in place, his fingertips gripped me
firmly just below the helmet ridge. Then, he twirled his fingers
clockwise, and counterclockwise, pulling the skin while steadily rubbing
deeply into my rigid tissues.

"The Barber Pole" is what he called the tormenting friction that had me
whimpering into his mouth.

Scooping into Justin's undies, I gripped his turgid, circumcised member
similarly, and copied him. His skin was so soft, and yet the sinewy
texture underneath was iron hard, and I don't know who was enjoying the
Barber Pole more - him or me? But within moment, he was shuddering, and
his breath grew tattered.

He sighed into my mouth, then pulled away from our kiss, so he could roll
on his side and face me. I followed suit, and we exchanged knowing looks
and erotically intoxicated smiles, while still teasing one another with
rotating rubbing.

In his curled position, Justin's jeans tightly hugged his ass, and the
bottom of his zipper bit into his nutsack through his briefs. Even so,
while I continued to torment his tool with one hand, I slid three of my
left fingers into the opening under his nut basket, to tickle and rub his
undescended testicles in their cottony pouch.

The combination of sensations must have beens something fierce, because
Justin's hips started rocking. His eyes closed, and through his gritting
teeth, he quietly hissed, "I'm so close."

That's when I got payback, and released him from both hands.

Justin grunted with dismay. His eyes fluttered open, and he gave me his
own mock angry look. Then, he smirked slyly.

Pulling his hand off my pounding prong, he stared into my eyes, while he
spat into his palm. Reaching back under the blanket, Justin held me
straight out by the base with his left hand. Then, his spit-slimy palm
landed horizontally on my penis tip. At first gently, he rubbed my fleshy
club end lightly with his flat hand in a circular motion. But as he
continued polishing me, he pressed harder into my rock hard flesh.

He was flattening my head with "The Panini Press," and it was exquisite
torture. The itchy tingles built as he kept buffing me harder.
Eventually, he reversed direction, polishing my knob with diminishing,
lighter pressure. Then, he was going the other way again, with mounting
force. Screwing, unscrewing. The tickling flares burst rhythmically,
flashing like a lighthouse.

His direct friction on my tenderest place was overwhelming, and my eyes
clenched shut. My breathing grew ragged, and Justin started stroking my
base with his other thumb and forefinger. Even though Justin was
astonishingly coordinated, it's still hard to believe he could
simultaneously rub circles on my crown with one hand, while pushing and
pulling on my root with the other. It was like one of those
patting-your-stomach-while-rubbing-your-head feats, but on my fucking
penis! It was magnificent, and it made me writhe.

Of course, I started humping into his hands. I couldn't help it. There
was a vortex building in my nuts, and it was unstoppable. While ribbons
of tissue pulled from my anus to my cock, and my scrotum contracted, I
barely managed to whisper a warning.

"I'm gunna COME! CAN'T HELP IT!"

Justin must have seen the helplessness in my shuddering body and
agony-crinkled face, and there was no way he could stop my launch
trajectory. Diving quickly under the blanket, he sealed his lips around
my trembling bone. While squeezing and pulling on my nuts, he slurped
back and forth, hard and fast. That hot, wet friction was like an oceanic
kelp forest made of warm meat, undulating back and forth. All it needed
was the gravy, and in seconds, I delivered!

Rippling cords tightened my smooth little scrotum, and my achingly
swollen 2-inch stem seemed to turn inside out, violently vomiting the
first meager squirt of my infertile load. I felt Justin's mouth pulling
hard, while he swallowed it. But I was so lost in the sensations, I
didn't stifle the agonized, high-pitched moan that burst from me along
with my second watery spurt. My eyes were scrunched closed, and I heard
the distant sound of Mia's voice squeal.

"Tickle Tommy!"

Tiny fingers swept across the bottoms of my feet, while another set of
digits darted under my chin. I wasn't particularly ticklish in those
places. But the combined sensation amplified the pulsations in my cock.
Squeezing it rhythmically between his tongue, cheeks and the roof of his
mouth, Justin's billowing mouth was overwhelming, and I squealed again
and again until he milked me dry.

Justin told me later that I was flopping up and down on the chair like a
landed fish. All I know is that when I finally became aware of my
convulsions, they were already dying away, along with my pulsations in
his warm, slippery mouth.

Though I was still hard as a Greek pillar, Justin let me slide out of his
orifice, and his head surfaced above the blanket. I was gasping and
huffing and the girls were still cackling and tickling, believing they
were the authors of my anguished cries.

"That's enough, girls," Justin said, pushing their hands away from me.
They complained, but Justin reminded Mia of the time I'd tickled her too
ferociously. He didn't spell out the details, but Mia had laughed and
squealed so hard she peed and sharted. Fortunately, she still wore
pull-ups, but Justin made me tidy up the consequences of my misdeeds.

"We have to stop," Mia told Cassidy, solemnly. Then she leaned over and
whispered in a very concerned voice, "Did you wet yourself, Tommy?"

Even in my withered state, I chuckled at the irony. Yeah, I had, but not
in the way she meant.

"No sweetheart," I said, and gave her a little peck on the cheek.

Just then, the phone rang, and Justin hurriedly secured his clothes,
before climbing out of the blanket and trotting over to the bulky
landline. While he chatted, I rearranged my own clothes, stowing away my
own hard, saliva-soaked shank.

Justin hung up the phone.

"Cassy, your mom's on her way. You should go potty. You too, Mia, OK?

Unlike Mia, Cassidy was house-trained, but still put up an argument,
because she didn't feel the need. Justin prevailed, and took the girls
for a potty party. Meantime, I considered my painfully needy erection. I
could have beat out a second orgasm while they were gone, but that seemed
unfair. I mean, Justin must have been achingly frustrated and needing
release, and yet he was tending to pre-schoolers.

Thankfully, by the time Cassidy's mom arrived, my needy throbber had
surrendered, and I was playing "Red Light / Green Light" with the
littles. Then, it was just the three of us. Justin tried to interest Mia
in a VHS tape of a movie she'd already seen too many times, but she
wanted to play games with us.

Sighing, Justin pulled out a box of wooden letters, and scattered them on
the kitchen table, then sat his sister on a booster seat at the table.
While she eagerly scanned the colorful pieces, Justin sat beside her, and
I climbed onto the same seat, sitting right behind him. His firm bottom
filled my widely spread crotch with familiar warmth, and I was hard again
in moments. Justin suppressed a giggled, and discreetly pushed his fine
ass cheeks back into me.

I pulled a blanket over the two of us, concealing us both in our own
personal tent. Fortunately, Mia was so used to seeing us similarly
cuddled together while babysitting her that, to her eyes, nothing seemed
amiss. Of course, when his parents were around, we were at arms length
from one another, even when we shared a blanket.

Anyway, while she carefully matched letters, and tried to remember their
names and sounds, my fingers glided up inside Justin's t-shirt, so I
could caress his lean, athletic torso. When I gently tickled and tweaked
his nipples into hard little cones, he exhaled deeply.

While Justin tried to help his sister sound out letters, and think of
associated animal names, I challenged his concentration with the same
sort of obstacles my tutor used on me during his weekly science and math
pop quizzes. First, I slowly caressed his thighs, then took my time
unbuttoning his trousers. Even through his thick denim, I could feel his
hardness surging up against his fly.

Baggy jeans were just coming into style, which meant that when I had his
trousers splayed open, my hands could slide past the leg elastics of his
briefs, to caress his inner  thighs. They were so smooth and lean. Justin
quietly sighed, and leaned back against me.

I continued to caress his well-toned inner leg with my right hand, while
my left slid up to tickle and rub Justin's nuts with my thumb and first
two fingers through his underpants. Small and trapped half inside his
body by his tight little scrotum, I could barely feel those little
nuggets through their soft and humid cotton casing.

I burrowed my right forefinger under his leg elastic, and teasingly slid
back and forth along his thigh. On each lap, the back of my finger
brushed against his smooth, perspiration-dampened scrotum.

My finger glided over the front of his snug white briefs. I quickly found
Justin's tent pole lurching with anticipation in the center of the
v-shaped trouser opening. At an agonizingly slow pace, I gently dragged
my index finger up and down his quivering length. His whole body
shivered, and he lost his train of thought more than once while trying
helping Mia sound out letters.

The sensation of his fiercely raging boner separated from skin-on-skin
contact with my finger by a membrane of underpants was astonishingly
arousing.  I took my time, rubbing his softly snuggled hardness for
several minutes before changing up my finger formation.

Gripping him by the sides with a thumb and two fingers, I delicately
stroked him with a whispery grip, and he barely choked off a groan.
Reflexively, his hips started rocking in a vain attempt to fuck my
fingers. But owing to how I sat with his back tight to my torso,
Justin's rhythmic lunges ground his bottom against my swollen pants pig.
I started driving forward to meet his back thrusts.

I needed his actual cock meat in my fingers, and I gave up teasing
Justin. My right hand dove into his tighty whities, and gripped him
firmly from his knob to his base with a thumb and two fingers in parallel
on three sides. While I pushed and pulled on his 2-inch tower, I
continued to rub and tickle his testicles through his briefs.

Justin exhaled raggedly, and the next time he said something to Mia, it
sounded more like coughing than language.

I stroked and humped him steadily, and savagely, and it's a wonder it
took so long for Mia to notice the sound of quietly ruffling fabric. But
it was Justin's strangled moans that caught her attention.

"Tommy: stop tickling Justy! We're playing."

But I couldn't stop. We were both so close, and the feedback loop of
pleasure and desire kept my fingers and hips pumping feverishly, albeit,
more quietly. When muscles rippled in my bowels pulling at my balls, I
grit my teeth and held my breath to kill my own strangled moans.

At the same time, I could feel Justin's flesh pulsating madly in my
fingers.

A wave of ecstasy flooded my abdomen, and my cock burst, spurting a tiny
load into my underpants. Though blood pounded through my ears, I heard
Justin loudly groan.

"Ohhhhh!!"

Just as my cock quietly heaved a second volley of droplets, Mia bitterly
complained.

"No, Justy. It's a `M!'

My cock continued to flare, and while I buried my face in Justin's back,
I felt more than heard him battle for control of his own voice, shakily
agreeing with his little sister.

"Sah-sorry, Muh-Mia...huh...You're right...It's an M-mmmm, nahhht an
Ohhh."

At last, when our climaxes faded, Justin eased back into the letter game,
and I discretely secured his penis back in his trousers. Then, I got up
to retreat to the bathroom. There wasn't much to dab up with tissues,
but I didn't want any wet spot, soaking through my jeans, no matter how
small.

By the time I returned, Justin's mom had arrived home, and it was time
for me to hit the trail. Both Justin and I had homework to do.

As Justin walked me to the door, he chuckled.

"That was the weirdest sex ever."

"Felt like you came pretty hard," I teased.

"Yeah, but not in a totally great way...Maybe let's only do it in
private."

I laughed. We'd been pushing our luck, and though Mia was 4, she was a
bright and observant kid.

"Yeah, you're right. Still staying over Friday?"

"Damn straight, Tommy Salami."

I giggled, yet there was still a twitching in my trousers. I couldn't
wait for us to mess around by ourselves.

Justin's brief journal entries the following two days were largely about
school, but also covered his eager anticipation for our next "date."
Yeah, that's what he called our time together: "dates." He was as much
in love with me as I with him, though I still hadn't yet applied the
same vocabulary straight boys and girls did with their love lives.

Anyway, these many years later, I'm for confirmation that Justin was as
eager as me.

_ _ _ _

March 5, 1989

Rad sleepover at Tommy's last night!

Like usual, I didn't bother showering or changing cause I do that at
Tommy's. My mom kept saying "pee-yew," when she drove me over to the
Stolz place.

Tommy was in his sweats and smelled like chlorine. Normally he showers
after his practice cause chlorine's it's bad for your skin (I think the
real reason is he's checking out other boys in the locker room).

Anyway, he was wanted to shower with me since we had the house to
ourselves. I stripped to my jock. Tommy licked his lips at me and winked.
He looked really sexy in his speedo so I kissed him real hard before we
finally got naked.

We took turns washing each other all over - and I mean ALL OVER. He had
me get on my hands and knees so he could wash my ass with shower hand
washer. Hot water up your butt hole feels so rad!  Then he licked it! It
was so nasty and awesome! I could have cum right then but then he stuck
his finger in and pushed something that was fucking dyno and I had the
most awesome orgasm!

I was a little nervous about doing all that to him. I always thought butt
munching was a gross, made up thing. Still, I really like Tommy's ass.
It's hard with the softest skin and his buns are like a couple of
grapefruits with outer sides that kinda flatten when he walks. If I could
have an ass like that, I'd trade in soccer for swimming!

[A skillful, pencil illustration of my ass appears, with one hand on my
hip, and a concave divot forming on the side on which my weight was
resting. I remember posing for him a lot, but I never saw this drawing,
and I don't remember having a bum that fine. I sure wish I did today!]

His crack really gets me and I could have washed it all night. When I
turned the hand nozzle onto the "firehose" setting, Tommy went crazy,
but it was time to get out of the shower.

With all that washing, I wasn't as scared to put my finger in his butt
hole in his room. I did and he kind of melted and he wanted me to curve
it downward, till I could press on a little lumpy thing. When I barely
jacked him and he orgasmed real loud. My finger didn't have any poop on
it, either! Yay!

Tommy told me his ass was super sensitive, and that weird place in our
butts is the prostate (one of those words you forget from health class).
He loves to play with his, and he said he can cum doing it without
touching his dick! I didn't believe him at first.

Tommy's big sister Sarah came home while we were dressing. She and Tommy
give each other a lot of shit, but she'a actually really nice. Then his
folks brought pizza. We watched some TV with them until they went to bed.

Tommy put on a chill mixtape he'd made in his room. He turned off the
light and we jumped into bed. We made out for a while and fooled around.
When I told him I was about to cum, he stuck his finger in my ass and
rubbed that weird place. It hurt, but also felt so good I almost passed
out.

I told him I didn't believe he could come without rubbing his dick. We
bet on it. He snuck down to the kitchen and came back with this weird
little raw pickle. He put some lube on it and spread his legs so I could
see, and shoved it up his ass! It looked painful, but he was smiling.
Then, he fucked himself with it. His dick slapped against him every time
it went in. I wanted to suck it so bad, but I wanted to see if what he
said was true. In no time flat, Tommy's dick spewed all over the place!

We talked and kissed and did some more things. Both our dicks were sore
when we finally got to sleep. When we woke up the next day, Tommy had a
couple of hickies! Oopsies! Good thing it's turtleneck season!

But here's the deal: Tommy wants me to fuck him! In the hole! We're
gonna do it when we have his place to ourselves. I can't wait for us to
get devirginized!

_ _ _ _


Justin's entry accurately conforms with my memory, but leaves out so
much. Maybe it was the crushing guilt that burned that night into my
recall like a laser cutter. You see, that was the first time I lied to
Justin. Specifically, he asked me if my 21-year-old tutor Michael had
introduced me to anal magic. I blithely mentioned Michael's finger, but
said that was as far it ever went or would ever go.

Although doubts about my answer surfaced in subsequent journal entries,
they were counterbalanced by his earnest desire to believe me. And I knew
how painful my admission would be to him. Justin wasn't as comfortable
about my physical relationship with Michael as he'd glibly asserted a
couple of weeks earlier. I was starting to comprehend the emotional
complexity of love, and realized two things:

I could never hurt Justin again
We had to apparently lose our cherries together.

Obviously, for the second part to work, I had to live like it were real.
To make that happen, I had to end everything physical with Michael but
his boner teasing pop quizzes. That also meant unhurried, seductive steps
to ride Justin's cock. Thankfully, Justin had already kicked that rock
down the hill from the moment he arrived for our sleepover, so
deliciously sweaty from basket ball practice that Saturday afternoon.

I lead him to the bathroom, where I turned on the faucets to warm up the
shower.

Justin's pungent, pubescent pits were fragrant with pre-ripeness - not
sour and foul, but nutty and enticing. And when he pulled off his shorts
in the bathroom, he was a vision of sculpted, angelic pulchritude.

Imagine a classical image of mythical Hyacinth: a body elongated and
sinewy with muscle, yet pre-adolescent, and slowly unfolding toward adult
definition. He was smooth as marble, with silky soft skin. His newly
forming abs were cradled in a prominent pubic "V," bisected with his
alluring athletic supporter.

Justin's coarsely woven, off-white jock strap - the OG kind - had a wide
waistband so tight it could be used as a water balloon launcher. Even
though he was totally sinewy, I remember the way that waistband bit into
his soft skin, pooching it out a wee bit.

The triangular genital trap wasn't as tight as the leg and waist
elastics, because Justin's dick wasn't filling it out. But a throbbing
little finger-like prow stretched it like a fist punching through a sheet
on a laundry line. Damn, how I needed to feel up that goddam tiny fist.
Meantime, Justin stared at my snug Speedo. The front was pulsating with
my own needs, and in seconds, our arms were around each other's waists.

Warm tummy-to-tummy and chest-to-chest heat competed with the steamy
hardness throbbing from our groins. My angry, painfully hard 2-inches
beat against its sizzling lover through two snug sheaths. So close and
yet so far.

Our lips met, and we pressed our groins together, inflaming each other
with blood-engorging passion.

While our cocks grew impossibly hard, and our tongues swirled in one
another's mouth, my hands slid down to Justin's firm, rubbery round
buns, and gave them a gentle squeeze, and pulled his body against me. Our
prongs were like two electric terminals, sparking with itchy fire.

Our heads rotated, and I excavated into Justin's mouth furiously.

One of Justin's hands slipped into the back of my skin-tight swim
briefs, squeezing and rubbing across both of my butt cheeks, while his
other hand feathered all over my slender back. At the same time, I toyed
with his leg elastics a few times, snapping them and sliding a finger
back and forth underneath, while my other fingers slithered into his
gloriously firm crevice.

Justin giggled into my mouth.

His cleft was swamp slick with sweat, and almost as hot and moist as the
steam billowing from the shower.

"Let's get in," I whispered in Justin's ear.

Our remaining shreds of clothing flew off, and we practically skipped
into the downpour. We alternated our kisses and loving caresses with
slathering, sudsy scrubbing. I don't remember the specifics, but we took
turns rubbing soap into each other's arms and legs, and tummy's and
backs. Justin was a little more aggressive with his wash cloth than I.
But his hands felt glorious, and I couldn't believe we took our time
getting to each other's lurching scepters.

By then, our tongues were simply extended between like tree branches in a
storm, twirling together in the downpour. At last, we were "washing"
each other's dripping, rigid rods with bare, soapy hands.

As Justin's hand kept sloshing to and fro, a little faster and a little
harder, my whimpers turned to piping moans. I could have cum in a
mili-second, but I wanted to postpone the inevitable. So I teased him
further.

"I want to wash your butt, dude," I quietly sighed.

"You spent like a month in there, Tommy," Justin giggled. In reality,
it had only been a cursory scrubbing.

"It's gotta be clean enough to eat," I purred. "Turn around and bend
over," I growled, guiding Justin until his hands rested on the tiled
wall, and his beautiful ass was a hinge, with his back, arms and head
reaching out at a 30 degree angle. I spread his legs widely, and caressed
the insides of his thighs.

Clutching his left cheek with my left hand, I pulled it aside to unveil
his glorious pink starfish, glistening and beckoning like sushi. Then I
detached the hose-fed overhead nozzle, and aimed the tropical storm into
his crevice.

Unleashing the hydraulic force in my right hand, I gently teased his anus
and nuts with a gentle spray, and Justin sighed. But after a few moments,
I turned the spray control into a single forceful jet, pile-driving into
his poop chute.

"OW-wwwooooowww-whooooooah!"

Justin's fingers vainly clawed against the slick tile wall, while his
ass pressed back and forth against the spray. A torrent rushed in and
flooded out of his breached gates, and I could see his nuts tightening.

Returning the shower head to its home, I used both hands to spread wide
the scenic vista where the sun never shone. His cheeks felt like juicy
pomelos, heated in a microwave. I squeezed them like I could juice them,
relishing their muscular foundation.

Leaning in between the gluteal walls, I couldn't even detect a trace of
soapy fragrance after his hot water enema. Yet my breath in there made
him gasp and quiver.

"What're you - OOOOH!"

He had only a moment to groan after I kissed his loosened hole. But when
my tongue tip gently traced the circumference, he beat his fists against
the wall.

"That's so...Gross... nuuuuuh...IT'S AWESOME!"

Yeah, at first, he was as conflicted as I had been, when Michael's
tongue tenderized me. Disgust with the act - a tongue gently skating
around a boy's dirtiest region - went to war with the magnificent,
glowing ecstasy pulsating out of his bowels. And pleasure won over.

As hot water cascaded down his back, sloughing off onto my head and
shoulders, I twirled my tongue tip around and around his hairless,
muscular ring. Already loosened by his shower nozzle douche, it opened
easily, and tasted like nothing at all.

My tongue had pierced Justin's anus, and I continued my circular assault
for a few moments. Releasing his left buttock, sealing both buns against
my face, my hands caressed up and down his outer thigh, and around his
tummy, feeling his whole body tremble. At the same time, I used my right
hand to gently fondle his tight little nutsack. His loud groan echoed in
the tiled space, but that wasn't the sign of his growing sense of
urgency.

That was clear when Justin pulled my scrotum-squeezing hand up onto his
quivering two-inch erection. It felt like a slender steel cylinder,
wrapped in soft, warm silicone, pulsating in my fingertips.

I plunged my tongue deeper into his canal, relishing the rectal pressure.
Stiffening it into a little meat dagger, I stabbed in and out of his boy
hole, while stroking his full length furiously. Justin's short, panting
moans grew faster. He was teetering on the edge, and I quickly swapped my
face for my left hand, wasting little time worming my index finger in. He
gasped while I drilled deeply, and found his joy buzzer. On the outside,
I pressed my thumb upward into his taint, so I gently pinched his
prostate with both digits. Then, I rubbed it from the inside with my
index finger, using a "come hither" motion. At the same time, I encased
his entire throbbing erection in my full right fist, and jerked him
furiously.The shower downpour may been an acceptable lube for his knob,
but it did little to cool explosive ardor.

In half a minute of fingering and stroking, Justin wailed unintelligibly,
while thrusting his hips back and forth. His anus crushed my finger in
time with his cock's dry spasms. On impulse, I opened my jaws widely,
and gently bit into his right butt cheek, making him gasp and pump
harder.

There really is nothing like a firm boy ham between your teeth. It's the
feast of champions.

But his buttock peeled out of my mouth a second later, from Justin madly
thrusting into my masturbating grip. Even as his climax melted, he
shuddered with diminishing pulsations. Finally, his penis pounded its
last, and I delicately withdrew my finger from his rectal well.

Justin's cock remained rigid, and I held it gently, treasuring the
sensation of his fleshy arousal. Standing up, I used my other hand to
straighten him in a hug from behind. His lithe yet muscular body
collapsed into me, like we were form-fitted parts.

Then, he turned and locked his arms around my waist.

"Oh, fuck, Tommy, that...that was rad!"

"Yeah, dude! You came so hard!"

"I can't believe you...did that stuff."

"Felt awesome, right?"

"Way more than that, Tommy. But...what did you touch? Inside me?"

I conveyed all I'd learned about the prostate from my college-student
tutor, Michael. He gave me a sad look that belied his confident
assertions that my messing around with Michael meant nothing. It was in
that moment that I realized how much it hurt Justin. I resolved to mend
his heart, at all costs.

That's when I lied to Justin, and told him that Michael once played with
my pleasure button while blowing me, but that was all he'd done to my
bottom. Everything else was supposedly something I'd read in that twink
porn mag, Starz, or something I'd figured out while playing with my ass
at night.

The guilt I felt lying to Justin was more than offset by the relief I saw
rolling across his cherubic features.

Justin told me it was my turn, and I assumed the position, with my hands
on the wall and my butt jutting out.

Justin spent less time teasing me with the shower head, before turning
the setting to hyper-douche.

I just love that jet shooting up my butthole. I don't care how funny
people think enemas are; there's nothing like the glorious sensation of
hot water forcefully flooding your heinie, then pouring out and lapping
at your balls. And it really was driving me wild, even without the
inevitable feeling of Justin's finger's toying with my scrotum.

But by then, we were both seriously pruning and our fingers as wrinkled
as elephant skin. I suggested we get out and dry off.

Very tenderly, we dried each other off, with affectionate kisses and
caresses. Wrapping our towels around our waists did little to conceal our
turgid boy flesh, but no one was due home for at least another hour. So
we gathered up our scant clothes, and scampered to my room.

While drying my long hair, I smiled slyly at Justin, who was openly
staring at my bouncing bone. 

"I owe you a big one, Tommy."

While he meant a serious orgasm, I coyly replied, "You have a big one,
Justy,."

He giggled, because neither of us had cocks to brag about. Late bloomers,
we sported bald erections roughly 2 inches long. All the same, mine was
desperately trying to grow even longer, with all the blood pumping into
it, making it wag at Justin.

With a confident stride, he pulled the towel out of my hands and tossed
it, then had me lie back on the bed with my knees cocked up, and feet
flat on the mattress.

He spread my legs widely and knelt between them. Rubbing back and forth
along my inner thighs, he leaned in until I could feel his tropical
breath on my tremulous junk.

After glancing up at me up with an eager expression, Justin slowly
dragged his tongue from the the underside of my circumcision scar, up
across my sweetly syrupy nozzle, to my helmet's top side ridge, and
back. He rolled back and forth, then around and around. His hot, wet
sponging felt like sparkling fire rolling through my tender meat.

"How can something be so hard and so soft at the same time?" Justin
murmured, squeezing and rubbing my base. Then, he sealed his lips around
my knob, sucking on it, and licking, while slowly stroking my shaft.
Justin's tongue tip rolled around my circumcised knob several times, and
the hot, dripping swabbing was the most delicious torment. Soft, wet
friction shot electric tingles down my length. He lingered, no doubt
savoring my meager juice, but not for long. That tongue - that sweet,
soft, yet firmly loving tendril's very tip - traced down the under side
to my root, then back up to the nozzle.

Pulling back to kiss my circumcised knob again and again, he quietly
muttered, "God you have a beautiful dick!"


Justin was a quick study, and within a couple of weeks of our
reconciliation, he'd become a dedicated sexual tease, enthralled with
making me quake with need. That afternoon in my bedroom, his stroking was
a feathery touch, and his lips rippled with rhythmic suction. Sometimes
he stopped, just to tickle my frenulum with his tongue tip, then drilled
it into my pee hole. Within minutes, he had me moaning, and running my
hands through his wet, shaggy hair.

Taking a quick break, he clambered up to give me a long and passionate
kiss. Our tongues played lightly, then more fervently, and when his lips
left mine, a string of drool bridged our smiles.

Tenderly kissing back down to my nipples, he tenderly nibbled and licked
each into swollen hardness. Eventually, his lips traced back to my
glowing groin.

Now ignoring my wetly throbbing prong, Justin showered my smooth loins
with the most delicious kisses. I whimpered while he rained love down on
every centimeter, even spreading my legs more widely so that his lips
could land on the little concave spaces between my thighs and my nutsack.

My granite hard boy bone beat back and forth on my hairless pubis and his
face like it was a bell clapper, and I can tell you my groin was already
on high alert.

"Someone's kinda horny," Justin teased, in a sing-song voice.

"Ya think..?" I growled, then gasped, as my smooth, spherical scrotum
submerged like a baby potato into his hot, wet slow cooker. Gentle
suction, and that tongue sliding around my hyper sensitive eggs had me
shaking.

He released my nuts with a satisfied slurp, and they wetly snapped back
into the base of my rigid little tool. At first, he smiled mischievously
at me, enjoying my tormented need. But his sly expression melted into
uncertainty.

"I...uhm not sure I can do everything you did to me...But I'll try."

So many nights alone in bed, the mere thought of Justin eating my ass had
explosively finished my self pleasure. So it was pretty obvious to Justin
a storm was rolling through my quaking body.

Eagerly, I pulled my knees up to my chest, and held them there, while
Justin studied my crinkled pink rose. As his journal reveals, and as he
later admitted to me, he was very hesitant to go in there. After all,
he'd have to ignore my back door's ordinary functions. At the same
time, though, he was really into my ass.

I could see those warring thoughts on his face. Lacing my left arm behind
both knees, I slapped my bottom with my right. It startled Justin, and
his eyes grew wide.

"It's just my butt, man. You don't have to do anything you don't want
to."

I slapped it again, bit my lower smiling lower lip, and raised a slinky
eyebrow at Justin.

"It's a really sweet ass, Tommy...It's very, uh, spankable."

"You can totally spank it...if you want," I whispered. Maybe he'd
actually fulfill another one of my fantasies...

Justin giggled and gave my left buns a sharp swat.

"Maybe later, you naughty boy."

Oh well, there was always the future.

Smiling at my soft, yet compact round nutsack, he gave each of testicles
a kiss for good luck.

"Well...here goes..."

Justin's words seemed tentative, but his his mouth sure wasn't. While
he spread my pliant cheeks with both hands, he licked one hillside, from
crest to basin, and then the other.

I'll never forget the glorious sensation of Justin's tongue wetly
tickling every bit of my inner cheek walls. It tickled, and yet soothed
at the same time. When my whole body started to shudder, he grew ever
more enthusiastic. Painting one wall with saliva, he slathered the other,
then started all over again.

"You just love that, doncha?"

I gasped and grunted affirmatively, then begged him to stroke me, even
just a little.

Non-verbally, he brutally refused, and his tongue skated along my valley
floor.

With a face full of firm, wet boy buttocks, Justin dragged his tongue
from my taint, to the little sacral dimple just above my crack, then
back. I was trembling and whimpering from every gliding sojourn of that
swabbing flesh. As a cherry on the banana split, whenever Justin reached
my perineum, his nose rubbed up the center of my ballsack, then back down
again. Crossing my anus, Justin's tongue was exquisite and unbearable.
It was like a thousand sparklers went off in my ass.

Remembering my moves in the shower, Justin slid his tongue tip around my
gates. No longer timid, he put pressure on my back door. But he'd barely
started when my legs kicked out of my own grip, forcing his face out of
my behind.

Justin's eyes flew open with surprise and delight.

"Sweet!"

When I had my knees back on my chest, I braced them with my forearms, and
Justin added his own grip on the back of each thigh.

Damn, it was so fucking good! His dripping tongue twirled and pressed
into my pleasure bowl, tickling it with icy fire.

I couldn't contain my whole body's convulsive bursts from waves of
ecstasy, building like a storm, rolling from my anus to my nuts.

All the same, it wasn't just my anal hypersensitivity that was stoking
my climactic fires.

It was who was making me writhe immodestly: Justin. My best friend. The
boy I loved had overcome all normal revulsion, and abandoned all social
norms with avid desire. Though clean as a whistle, it was still my mud
hole he was enthusiastically eating. He was shamelessly working to drive
me mental. And it was working!

I was rolling and bucking in a rhythmically flexing ball of quivering
need.

"OOH! OOH! Justin! So awesome!!"

His tongue had entered me, and was now drilling in and out, fucking me
with it. He sucked on my hole for a moment, then tongue fucked me again.

Justin knew I was close to edge. But he had no idea how little it would
take, and I begged for release.

"Put your finger in me!"

In the moments it took for him to swap out his tongue for his index
finger, my nearing climax slowed. Still, my whole body jerked when his
digit pierced me, and I eagerly coached him on, giving him directions to
Prostate Street.

When he pressed my button, I moaned and spasmed.

"Yeah, that's it! But not too hard."

Shivering, I gasped out the steps to play with it, using a back and forth
crooking finger. In seconds, I was grunting and grinding my teeth,
panting for breath, while my body rippled with lightning.

"Gettin' close again, huh?"

I merely nodded and gulped air. The aching pressure in my bowels echoed
like tom toms in my balls, then pulsed out with cadenced waves of cock
pleasure. I rolled my pill bugged body against his hand, and Justin
feathered my tummy, then nipples with his free hand. Suddenly, his nipple
tweaking pinched sharply.

"OHHH!"

I groaned with a measure of pain and pleasure, pounding my head back into
the pillow.

Justin's finger tips caressed down to my groin. Gripping me by the shaft
with a thumb on one side and two fingers on the other, he didn't bother
teasing. Firmly clutching onto my diamond hardness, he stroked me quickly
and steadily, stretching the soft shaft skin over my tender head on each
up stroke, and pulling it tightly into the base on the down stroke.

"UUUUUH YEEESS! HERE...IT...COMES!"

The dull ecstasy in my bowels merged with the intense friction on my
cock, and my balls tightened into an imploding star.

Moaning again and again, I rolled back and forth while my 2-inch cock
detonated like a stick of dynamite. Once, twice, and three times, I shot
clear, watery juice across my chest, then drooled through several more
surging, yet diminishing pulsations.

At last, my boy stem staggered through a dry retching dance, and Justin
just held it gently.

"Intense, huh?"

All I could do was gasp and nod my head.

While my body quaked with after shocks, Justin pulled his finger out of
my ass, but not so gently, and I winced.

"Oh! Sorry, Tommy."

Examining his finger, then sniffing it, he was apparently pleased with
absence of souvenirs. Then he sucked on it!

Seeing my surprised expression, Justin laughed and grinned.

"In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, it tastes like soap."

As my legs flopped back down, they tingled with fire. Justin continued to
hold my cock while I sort of softened. I warned him I was a little
sensitive, so he was gentle.

"I love feeling it turning soft, Tommy -  or hard. Actually, I just
really like holding it."

Licking my chest and tummy, Justin cleaned my meager ejaculate, and
swallowed it appreciatively. Then we traded tender kisses, ending with a
long and lingering schnog. While sharing the vague flavor of my infertile
boy juice, we caressed one another with  wordless expressions of love.

Rolling onto his back, Justin joined me in staring at the ceiling. His
cock was rigid again, stretching two inches up his barren pubis.
Absently, I toyed with it, while he continued to cup my semi-firmness.

"You're really...sensitive down there, Tommy. I mean, I like it OK, but
you love it."

I admitted that playing with my ass was becoming my new favorite thing.

"I don't even have to touch myself, and I can jizz."

"No way!"

"Bet on it?"

I wasn't sure if it was time to get his dick in me, or not. He
definitely had some Number 2 issues. But I could always use a
substitute...

"I'm home!"

My older sister slammed the door downstairs to make her point.

"Shit!" We hadn't even closed my bedroom door.

We quickly scrambled to pull on fresh clothes and throw open homework
across my desk. By the time Sarah trudged up the stairs, we were
pretending to work out a math problem.

"Good to see you little homos with some clothes on," she smirked.

"We're just doing homework, you goon," I replied.

Surveying the scattered clothes and towels, she rolled her eyes with a
chuckle.

"Uh-huh. You stayin' for dinner, Justin?"

"He's sleeping over, Sarah."

"Cool. Just keep it down tonight, dudes."

Through mostly private teasing, my big sister had made it clear she
accepted my sexuality, and approved of my evolving relationship with my
best friend.

Anyway, we picked up my room, and really did get our light weekend
homework out of the way, before my parents got home with pizzas. There
wasn't a game on, so after dinner, we watched a murder mystery over ice
cream, while my sister went out on a date.

My parents went to bed, telling us to turn down the TV and to not stay up
too late. After giving me a good night kiss, my mom scanned us both with
a slightly amused look - something I wouldn't understand until I came
out to here in high school.

Justin and I curled together, changing channels to MTV. We briefly
considered playing some Zelda, but gaming back then wasn't quite as
addictive; certainly not when your best friend has his hand your thigh,
and is gently stroking its inner plane. I turned to Justin, and his
gentle smile was like a spring breeze in the chilly air: warm, and
inviting. His eyes sparkled with a knowing amusement. Our lips met
tenderly for a long moment.

"Alone at last," he whispered with a touch of melodrama, which made me
giggle.,

Our lips sealed and we shared our pent up desire. We caressed one
another's thighs, and I still remember the sensation of his underwear
leg elastic through the soft cotton of his sweat pants. I gave it a
little teasing snap, and he giggled.

"You know, we both have an early day, tomorrow..."

"Uh-huh. Maybe we should get a good night's sleep, Tommy."

Oh, yeah. Resting up for Saturday sports was definitely top of mind when
we hit land speed records peeing and brushing our teeth.

Back in my room, with the door closed and the lights out, we both dropped
our gym trousers and peeled off our socks with our toes, all the while
eagerly watching one another strip. Damn, he looked so sexy in dim street
lamp twilight.

In just our t-shirts and underwear, we wrapped our arms around one
another. Our chilled legs entwined, warmth seeking warmth. He was already
as hard as me in anticipation. My hot, steaming cock nuzzled his through
the stretchy fabric of our briefs, throbbing needfully.

Just as our lips met, Justin's fingers were caressing my bum gently at
first, while my hands enveloped him with a squeezing embrace. Like the
two coils on a Jacob's Ladder, a charge seemed to run up and down our
bodies, and our kisses turn deeply passionate very quickly.

My hands found Justin's firm, round little melons, and I surveyed them
by feel. So soft in their fluffy cotton sling, yet so solid and
resilient. Soon enough our caresses turned to squeezes, like we could
juice each other's firm, round buttocks. And while our tongues wrestled,
we pulled our groins together harder, locking into grinding position.

Kissing his way to my ear, Justin whispered, "Fuck, your undies are so
sexy. I just want to lick them off!"

Pushing me to the bed, he tried to do exactly that.

When I was lying flat with my legs widely spread and feet on the floor,
he knelt on the carpet, and slowly dragged his tongue from the bottom of
my satiny, skin-tight low-rise briefs to the top, skating across a
smooth, fly-less front. Just as he could feel every contour of my quaking
cock through the skimpy material, my little flesh pop was tingly and
moistened by his swabbing mouth probe. Licking up and down several times,
Justin had my undies as wet as if I'd peed them, and they adhered like a
second skin, though they stretched like a barn-raising with every thump
from my heartbeat.

At the same time, his flat hands slid between the mattress and my butt
cheeks, caressing them with slow rubbing, and an occasional squeeze.

"Ohhh man! That feels so good!"

I kept my whispers and sighs muffled as long as I could, and he grew more
enthusiastic, teasing me with kisses, then sucking discrete sections of
my little prong through the fabric.

My herculean defenses crumbled, and I quietly begged him to just take me
directly in his mouth. I guess his impatience mirrored my own. Gripping
my waistband with his teeth, he looked up at me with clearly aroused
glee, and started pulling them down like a wolf carrying off its prey. My
sigh turned to a giggle, and I lifted my rump up so he could pull my
underpants all the way down to my ankles, where I kicked them off.

"You animal!" I whispered with a chuckle.

He made pig snorting sounds, and we both laughed too loudly.

Sliding his hands up both legs, then rubbing the insides of my thighs for
a moment, Justin leaned in and kissed the very tip of my rigid rod.
Evidently, I was already moistening, since Justin licked his lips with
evident pleasure.

Holding my cock reverentially, he kissed up and down my length, then
pursed his mouth around my knob and sucked on it, while gently feathering
my length with a thumb and forefinger.

Damn, my glans could have melted in that wet, swirling maelstrom, and the
light, tickling sparkles running up and down my length had me purring..

After a minute, he bobbed his head back and forth with gentle suction,
then held my root with his lips. Justin ran his tongue around my quaking
cock, then spent a few moments swallowing his copious saliva. His cheeks
and tongue undulated down my length again and again, making me gasp and
moan.

Pulling back and releasing me from his lips, he carefully licked the
underside of helmet's ridge, driving me nuts with itchy tickles.

Dragging his tongue back down my turgid length, he kissed either side of
my smooth, spherical little sack. Then, he caressed all of it with his
tongue tip, it like a little bon bon. Still anchored to my member's
root, my little nut purse rolled back and forth with my prong's
involuntary flexing. The more he wetly sponged my my smooth, contracting
testicles, the more my little cock smashed his face like a battering ram.

Justin wasn't going to let me get off easily. He was relishing my
rapturous torment, and the way even my toes curled with his every touch.
And I'd already surrendered the key to my secret pleasure vault.

Pushing my knees up to my chest once again, so I could anchor them in
place, Justin peeled apart my cheeks and took a moment to admire my
midnight star in the wan street light. No longer hesitant, he dove in and
lapped at my meaty walls with evident gusto.

Very quickly, he grew ravenous for my ass, licking every square
millimeter inside my buns, painting them with his peppermint-toothpaste
mouth nectar. At the same time his hands slid all over my hips and tummy
and legs, lighting my nerve endings on fire.

It was a good thing I had my arms locked behind my knees, because I
started kicking reflexively.

Justin's tongue tip started gliding around my drain when he froze, and
pulled back out of my ditch. His hands caressed my outer buttocks slowly.

His amused curiosity almost lit up the room.

"You said something about a bet..."

Arching an eyebrow, I smirked at him. "I can do it, Justin. What are the
stakes?"

Justin pondered for a moment.

"Lawn mowing every week in June."

Since we both had to cut our families' lawns in the summer, it was a
wager I easily accepted.

Gently rolling Justin off of me, I pulled on my saliva-drenched briefs
and snuck down to the kitchen. Returning with my secret acquisition
hidden in my hand, I stripped off my undies and pulled a dirty t-shirt
from the laundry hamper. As I returned, Justin's eyes darted from the
laundry, the arm hidden behind my back, and my 2-inch passion pole
bouncing with each step.

Pulling down the covers and fluffing up a pillow, I spread the t-shirt
down on the bottom sheet where my ass would rest. Laying down with what I
hoped was alluringly limber motion, I reached into my nightstand drawer
for a bottle of lube Michael had given me.

Then, with a flourish, I presented a Persian cucumber to Justin.

He squinted in curiosity at the shadow-shrouded vegetable I held in my
right hand.

"What's that?"

"Something edible. Almost as tasty as you..." I purred.

I held out the 5-inch vegetable so he could study it, and appreciate
it's ¾-inch width (twice as long and definitely wider than the pink,
blood-engorged baby tubers sprouting from our groins).

I gave the cuke several long, lascivious licks. When I slowly moved it
back and forth between my sealed lips, staring into his eyes with
sluttish intensity, Justin giggled a little too loudly.

"I get the feeling that's not a midnight snack."

"Just sit back and watch, Justy."

"Remember: you can't touch your dick."

First, anticipating my eventual ejaculation, I pulled the front of my
t-shirt back behind my head.

Then, slopping the cucumber with lube until it dripped and glistened with
milky light, I cocked up my knees. Reaching around my hip with my left
hand, I pulled that side's butt cheek open. With the other, I carefully
positioned nature's dildo at my garden's gate, and slowly started to
plant it.

"Holy shiiiiiit..."

Justin was was pie-eyed and enthralled by my self-impalement. I grinned
at the mixture of stunned wonder and eager arousal spreading across his
face, and was glad to see his cock rhythmically stretching his snug white
briefs.

Rolling my head back and closing my eyes, I gave into the blissful
sensation of slow anal dilation. Like always, initially drilling into my
ass (no matter what the vehicle), was always a gloriously thrilling
sensation - until it wasn't.

There was that sharp flare, when the muscles stretched beyond their usual
aperture width. It started to sting - but for me, it stung so right.

With micro plunges to and fro, I steadily tapped that verdant toy into my
tender tunnel. I barely winced when my anal lips accepted the full girth.
Still, I pushed in and out, while ramming it further into my tunnel of
love.

I heard Justin's breathing grow heavier, and felt movement on my left.
Cracking an eyelid, I spied Justin slowly rubbing the front of his briefs
with his palm, while mesmerized by my self-fornication.

Justin shivered a little, and asked if he could pull the bedding up over
our bare legs.

"Uh-huuuuuuuhhh."

I only half-registered the duvet dragging up my shins, then just over my
knees, leaving a big V-shaped window between my thighs for Justin's
viewing.

"Uuurrrgghhh!"

I reached my prostate, and rang my own bell. Twisting it a little, and
pushing upward, I prolonged the aching pleasure shooting from bowels, and
radiating across my abdomen.

I pulled back an inch or so, then pressed back in, grinding my pleasure
button until I groaned.

At first, my thrusts were slow and languid, and my tummy muscles
undulated with my breath. At the same time, the waves of rhythmic
pleasure rolling out from my boy hole were threatening that steady
cadence with a cacophony of growing need.

Direct cables of ecstasy jolted my balls in their smooth and tightly
contracting, spherical satchel. Damn, how I wanted to squeeze them, but
that would have hollowed out my claims, even if I wasn't directly
touching my dick.

All the same, the pulsating warmth rolling out of my groin was building
into a tide, and I gradually pounded myself faster. Any rectal pain had
melted into itchy fire, and my hips we're already gently rocking.

I had to stifle a series of serious moans, so I bit my tongue, while my
breathing grew ragged. I was so close.

By then, I was losing myself in the steady, pulsing friction in my dark
star, as well as the synchronous light display behind my closed eyelids.
I was starting to lose my sense of self or place, only conscious of that
phallus plowing me, the building itch in my cock, and Justin's breath on
me. In my mind, it was Justin fucking me with his hard little prong.

Suddenly, I felt his hands caressing my chaotically rolling abs, rubbing
wide circles on my torso. Maybe it was coincidental, but at the same time
his fingers glided over my hairless pubis, the energy potential growing
in my groin reached overload.

Pulling a pillow over my face to kill off my scream, I felt the volcanic
blast building from behind my balls, then up through my cock.  My hips
lunged upwards violently upward, dragging Justin's fondling fingers with
me, while my cock detonated. Fierce, compressed itching seemed to force
its way out of me with titanic force.

Just as the the first meager spray of watery juice landed on my tummy and
groin, my hips flopped back down. But with my second eruption, my hips
pumped even more violently, launching an even scanter scattering of
impotent seed. I gulped in air with the third and fourth pulsations, and
I doubt much more than dribbles drooled from my nozzle, and my hips
merely rocked. At last, through a series of diminishing, dry flexes, my
climax at last faded.

While my body quaked with blissful spasms, my anus randomly squeezed the
intruder in my ass, pulling it in against my prostate, driving me nuts
with endorphins.

It took me a moment to get my bearings, and I pulled the pillow off my
face. Giving Justin a drunken smile, I felt his palm still caressing my
smooth pubic plane, gently rubbing a halo around my still quivering
hardness.

"Fuck dude! You really can squirt with no hands!"

That was almost true, if you didn't count my hand pummeling my boy hole
with a vegetable. Still, I got in my "told ya so," with no elaboration.
Moreover, I'd be sleeping in every Saturday in June, secure in the
knowledge that Justin would be mowing my family's lawn.

Droplets of my clear goo had rained down on Justin's caressing hand, and
he took a moment to sniff them, before savoring them with his tongue.
Then, he leaned over to plant his lips on mine. Our kiss was long, and
deep. and tender, and I ran my fingers through his blond hair, while
Justin smeared my droplets all over my tummy and chest.

When we broke away, Justin fed me his fingers one by one, so that I could
suck all my own spooge off of him. It was still mostly sweet, with a
 touch of salt. I couldn't wait for the day I could dine on Justin's
boy sap.

"There were like all these muscles rippling around your dick every time
you shot, Tommy. It was so cool! I wanna cum that hard!"

He kept rubbing his palm against his turgid boy meat through his briefs,
while giving me occasional pecks on the lips. I moved his fingers aside,
and and slowly stroked his cotton-cloaked length.

"You wanna ride the wild pickle, cowboy?"

Justin squealed with a giggle.

"Nah, thanks, dude. But you really like it?"

He didn't understand how my ass hungered for plowing. Hell, I barely
understood it, but I guessed my prostate was even more sensitive than my
dick.

"But doesn't it hurt?"

While Justin loved it when I tickled his hole, and ending a BJ by playing
with his magic button supersized his orgasms, he was definitely not
thrilled with his anus being probed. On the other hand, he was super
aroused by exploring my ass.

His breath grew deep while I described how much his tongue set me on
fire, and his steaming cock quaked even more violently in its tight
cotton wrapper. I gave it a meaningful squeeze.

"It's your turn, Justy."

I pulled my t-shirt back into place, while beckoning him to straddle me.

With an amused grin and a tiny giggle, Justin rested lightly on my belly,
and feathered his fingers around my now very sensitive nipples.

With his knees bent and calves running alongside my hips and thighs,
Justin leaned down and rested his hands on either side of my long hair.
His lips dropped gently, like a lunar lander, coming to a graceful rest
on my Sea of Tranquility.

Our mouths danced together in a synchronized ballet, gently sucking and
kneading, and sharing our sparkling passion. Oh, to be in love with your
best friend!

By the time our tongues slithered together, twisting and rolling and
sliding, Justin's arms were under my shoulders, and his groin had
migrated south, to merge with mine. His love muscle was banging against
my re-engorged thing through his snug briefs. His t-shirt cloaked torso
made me feel so - I dunno - secure and happy. At the same time, under the
duvet, his legs was deliciously warm, tangling tenderly with mine.

We kissed harder, drilling into one another's mouths, corkscrewing our
heads, while our raging ardor whirled between us. Justin was grinding his
dick into mine, plowing rich itchy tickles up and down my now painfully
swollen member.

I'd been gently rubbing his gloriously firm ass cheeks through his
fluffy snug underpants, but slid my hands inside, to squeeze his rubbery
flesh directly, and pull him harder into me.

Justin's mouth dragged away from mine, and he buried his head in the
crook of my shoulder. Grunting with concentration, he pumped and pumped
and pumped, harder and faster with every thrust. The friction from his
fly grated against my bare cock tormentingly. HIs flesh was just microns
from mine, separated by a thin wall of cotton. It was almost like we were
sharing one set of nerves, all erupting with pleasure.

Rutting into me with reckless abandon, Justin's ragged panting turned to
quiet, helpless moans. If he hadn't latched his lips onto the base of my
neck, his bellowing cry could have woken the dead. As it was, he climaxed
so violently, it felt like my dick was being beaten with a tiny crowbar.

He kept ramming into me with every diminishing pulsation, but at last,
his climax faded.

While Justin heaved to catch his breath, his body was wracked with random
tremors.

Pulling his lips from my drool-dampened throat with an audible slurping
sound, Justin kissed my cheek, and clambered further down my body so he
could rest his head on my chest. I combed my fingers through his hair,
and kissed his sweat-dampened forehead.

"That was quick."

"I was so fucking horny, Tommy. You're so damn sexy!"

I felt his still hard cock pressing into my thigh, and I briefly
considering taking things all the way. But if he were to fuck me, I
wanted it to be special; I wanted us to take all the time we wanted, and
not worry about noise.

"I love humping you, Tommy. Maybe it's like straight kids `making
love.' It's just...kinda romantic."

"But we didn't even do it skin-to-skin, Justin," I replied. Then, I
deepened my voice with fake manliness to emphasize a Penthouse Letters
phrase that always cracked us up.

"I need your BIG, HARD FUCKSTICK!"

When our quiet laughter faded, I added unnecessarily, "You're still
super hard."

"Yeah, so's your GIGANTIC HORSE COCK."

At least straight porn was good for comedy, if nothing else.

We choked off more laughter, then flexed our cocks against one another.

"Come here," I whispered, urging Justin forward by pulling his ass.
Scooting up until he straddled my chest, Justin smiled down at me.
Studying his swollen pole alluringly stretching his tighty whities, I
leaned in and kissed the knob, then slid my hands all around his hips and
buns.

"Why don't we lose these," I said, sliding my fingers into either side
of his waistband.

After wriggling around inelegantly, Justin simply stood up on the
mattress and peeled off his underwear. He dropped them on my face with
another giggle. The very faint mixed bouquet of boy musk and fabric
softener was intoxicating.

"A snack for later," I said with chuckle, tossing his briefs aside.

With a slyly impish expression, Justin carefully sat back down on my
achingly rigid flesh, letting it throb in his lower cleft. My knob rested
against his taint, just behind his nuts. His knees were up and his feet
on planted one either side of my chest, and Justin peeled off his
t-shirt.

My night-clad boyfriend bit his lower lip with amusement, arching an
eyebrow.

"What's this I'm sitting on?" Justin quietly teased? "Feels like a
baseball bat."

Rocking back and forth a little, he gently masturbated me with his buns
for a moment. "You like that, dont'cha?"

"MmmmHmmmm..."

I caressed his tight little sack and quivering prong delicately with my
right fingers, rolling across his junk like piano keys. At the same time,
I caressed his smooth, slender yet sinewy inner thigh with my other hand.

Though his ass felt wonderfully warm, Justin shivered a little. Turning
half around, he pulled the duvet and top sheet up over his shoulders,
draping them on either side of my tummy. He looked like a hot naked boy
in a cloak, though I could barely see his majestic hardness in the
shadows.

"Are you gonna suck it?" Justin whispered coyly.

"Maybe in a minute. I just wanna play with my favorite toy, first."

I quit fondling him for a moment, and reached over for the small bottle
of lube. Filling one palm, I slicked my hands, warming the goo, and it
sprayed and dripped all over us.

Like a formation of X-Wing Starfighters, my right fingers flew into the
dark duvet cravasse and homed in on Justin's Imperial Ass Destroyer. At
the same time, Left Squadron attacked his smooth and hairless, still
completely inoperable Sperm Star. My middle finger, the Squadron Leader,
flew by touch alone, down the skin seam dividing Justin's tight sphere
in half, on course for his Waste Port.

But my greasy finger stopped at the convergence of Justin's taint and my
knob, then reversed course, gently stroking up and down his tight little
sack. Rubbing steadily back and forth, I gently conjured the genie
imprisoned within.

Meanwhile, my other moistly dripping digits played with top and bottom
sides of Justin's bare, circumcised knob, rubbing the hypersensitive
dome like I were sprinkling salt. My thumb went up, while my index finger
went down, then they reversed course, always in opposite directions. If
my fingers weren't so lubricious, it would have been unendurable
torture. As it was, Justin was quietly gasping, and his legs were
shaking.

I started making little circles on his glans, while still caressing his
smooth and gorgeous little nutsack. So cute and compact, like a big ping
pong ball, it was warm, pink and soft, yet firm. Finding his nuts with my
thumb and index finger, I massaged each for a while, then pulled a little
on the whole purse. Like mine, it was still tightly fused to the base of
his tiny, tremulous tool, and all I did was stretch his dick skin a bit.
Justin bit his lip from tightening tension.

"Jeez, Tommy," he groaned, "this is killing me."

Quietly chuckling, I taunted him.

"Does Justin need a cummy?"

"Duh!"

A little vindictively, Justin rolled his hips again, grinding me with his
buns, making me shiver. That hot, rubbery grip on my painfully swollen
meat was sticky and wonderful.

While still caressing his now oily nutsack with my left hand, I slowly
stroked the entirety of his 2 inches with my right thumb and forefinger,
squeegeeing from his very tender tip to his base, and back.

Justin's eyes closed. Though I couldn't see his ribs, I knew his
slender chest was expanding and contracting more deeply, from the way the
duvet rose and fell with his shoulders. After a minute or two of steady,
wet friction, his jaw dropped, and he started gulping air while he
squirmed.

"Oh fuck. Ohhh! Feels so good!"

His tight little bag contracted even more tightly.

"Faster, Tommy! Please?"

I switched grips and swallowed his length with my whole hand. His balls
rested against the meat of my palm, and his circumcised tip rose almost
out of my small, young fist. While I stroked him with firm pressure, my
room echoed with rhythmic, wet, squelching sounds.

When I sped up, Justin could barely contain his moans, and so I slowed
down, rubbing his pee-hole with my thumb on every greasy up downstroke.
When his vocal excitement ebbed, I sped up again, making Justin quake and
gasp. His hips instinctively rocked, pumping his groin to meet my steady,
sploshing strokes. In tandem, his crease pushed and pulled on my raging
prong with delightful friction, and I started gently humping up into him.


Because of Justin's bun-pressure on my aching hardness, it took a lot of
self control for me to slow down again, delaying Justin's gratification
when I needed yet another orgasm myself. Involuntarily, my anus flexed
around the pickle storming my southern threshold, driving it into my
prostate a few times.

Still, I slowed down to the beat of a steady dirge, making my best friend
whimper with need, and vindictively again, his nipple caresses turned
into pinches. Justin may as well have turned an electrical switch, making
me reflexively buck upwards, plowing several times between his buttocks.

Nevertheless, I refused to throttle up my steady, slick flute polishing.

Squelch.

Squelch.

Squelch.

"Uuuuuhhhhrrgghhhhh...Tommmmmmyyy!"

Justin took matters into his own hands. Or really, thrust them into mine,
pumping his hips rapidly, fucking my fingers with demanding need. At the
same time, his grinding buns were roasting my little schnitzel, and
automatically, my anus started clenching, pulling the cucumber deeply in
and out of my flaming boy hole.

Suddenly, I was no longer in control of my body, and I lost my
concentration on Justin's dick. I could only grip him, while losing
myself in the perfect storm of friction in my loins and bowels. With my
eyes clenched, my ears submerged into a mix of Justin's staccato
panting, and the squishy, spongy cadence of rapid wet fapping.

At the same time, my flexing ass was pounding itself with my make-shift
sex toy, while my pelvis violent thrust back and forth, fucking Justin's
firm little meat pleat. In moments, the aching ecstasy behind my balls
joined forces with the kinetic itchy fire in my cock.

I pulled the pillow over my face again, and held my breath to stifle a
banshee's wail from the thunderclap in my groin. Stars burst behind my
eyelids, while everything in the world evaporated, except the sensation
of Justin's warmth, and my penis retching into him.

Again, I lost my sense of time or place. When I finally came to my
senses, I realized Justin had cum with me. He was no longer fucking my
hand. Instead, he was hugging me with his arms and legs, while gently
kissing my neck.

God, he felt so warm. Those legs entwined with mine, gently coiling and
caressing me while we both trembled in post-orgasmic bliss. I was cupping
his softening junk in one palm, while caressing his firm, slender buns
with another.

It was a couple of minutes before either of us could manage a coherent
sentence. In the meantime, we traded tender kisses and caresses.

I could have lain there forever, in the warm comfort of Justin's
embrace, if I didn't have a sudden urge to hit the can. Yanking my wet
briefs back on, I barely made it to the bathroom before the cucumber led
a violent prison break from its intestinal penitentiary. I don't know
about you, but a good ass-pounding has always loosened my plumbing,
especially if I've eaten recently. So I was in there for a little while,
then detoured to the kitchen to get Justin and me some water.

Back in my room, I pulled on fresh undies, and set down our drinks on the
night stand. Snuggled in bed, Justin had already pulled his underwear and
shirt back on.

"Nobody awake?"

"Nope. The place is dead."

"I dunno. You might have woken up the neighborhood with that scream."

Even in the dim light, Justin could see the alarmed expression spreading
across my face, and he quietly giggled.

"I'm just fucking with you."

Apparently, I hadn't uttered a peep. But the bass notes from our
mattresses gymnastics were enough that the next morning, I got a warning
from my dad to stop "rough housing in the middle of the night."

Anyway, Justin had a million questions about the cucumber, starting with
what I done with it.

"Oh, I washed it off and put it back in the `fridge," I deadpanned.

Justin's jaw dropped in horror, then turn into a wave of disgust, and I
bit my hand to choke off the laughter. In reality, it was wadded it up
with toilet paper and hidden it in the bottom of the kitchen garbage.

Justin lightly punched me in the arm.

"You're such a dick."

"Maybe that's my best part," I joked, then gently squeezed his through
his briefs.

"Negatory. Not the best."

Our lips sealed for a long and tender kiss, and our tongues gently played
in our tropical grottos. Leaning back to look me in the eyes, Justin
smiled and caressed the left side of my chest.

"The best part of you is here."

"My nipple?"

I giggled and he punched me again, this time, harder.

"OK, sorry."

"I love you, Tommy."

Justin's soft whisper was like a pipe organ note almost beyond the range
of hearing. It was angelic.

"I love you even more."

We languidly kissed and caressed for several minutes. Justin's torso and
thighs were silky, but firm, and so enthralling to the touch. And yet,
though we both grew achingly hard again, we continued to simply kiss and
whisper.

"You really like that thing up your butt?"

"Oh, it's so rad," I replied, explaining my love of butt play when I
jerked off. I'd tried different toys, like Sharpies and hairbrush
handles. But nothing was as good as a Persian cucumber, or a finger.

"Mom thinks they're my favorite snack, so she buys a couple packs every
week." I always ate about half of them for show, while the rest ended up
in my pooper. Well, really, they all found their way to my digestive
tract, one way or the other.

I didn't mention that my tutor Michael had promised to find me a real,
penis-shaped, vibrating dildo - but one that was "junior sized." Most
silicon dongs were pussy stretchers, not designed for anuses (much less
13-year-old anuses), so such a specialty product - probably meant for a
teen girl - wasn't common in Boise, back then. If Michael ever found
one, I'd hoped to ease it into my conversation with Justin, then maybe
ease it into his bottom. But Justin unwittingly closed the door on that
idea.

"I don't get it, dude. I mean, I love your finger in me, Tommy, but it
also hurts. Anything bigger than that...Nope."

"I guess everyone's different. I just hope this is what a real dick
feels like."

Justin gave me a penetrating, eager look."

"I mean...what your dick feels like, Justin," I added, shyly.

"Really?"

His eyes grew wide, and his face practically glowed with radioactive
intensity.

"Yeah...I've been hoping you might, uh...wanna..?"

Hugging me tightly with his arms and legs, almost as if he could melt
into me, he pressed his face into the crook of my shoulder again.

I felt his lips give me a tender peck, and then another dampness on his
nose. I figured his nose was runny, until he pulled away, and I saw his
eyes damp with tears. But he was smiling.

"Why're you..?"

"I just love you so much, Tommy."

We hugged for a long time after that. The tenderness of the moment did
nothing to lessen our ardor, and our cocks beat into each other's
tummies. But our baser appetites were still on hold.

We kissed a bit more, then he curled on his side around me, with one
thigh thrown over mine. Slowly, absently, he stroked my hardness through
my underpants, while pressing his own into my hip.

"Tommy, I've jacked it so many times thinking about putting it - "

Justin paused, and bravely corrected himself.

"..thinking about fucking you, Tommy. I wanna fuck you so bad."

Justin confided that he'd grown every more enthralled with boy bottoms
in general, and my rump in particular. Since the previous summer, he'd
started to think there might be something twisted with his ass obsession.
But that changed with our reconciliation.

The twink porn I'd shared with him, with our blossoming butt
explorations, had opened Justin's eyes. He'd come to realize that not
only was his hunger not unique, but that his data on anal intercourse was
flawed.

"I didn't know it went, you know, into the butthole."

Evidently, he'd thought humping a boy's butt cheeks was all there was
to "butt fucking." There'd been a time - maybe no more than a couple
of weeks earlier - when he'd have been grossed out by exploring the real
depths of the phrase. But not anymore.

"Do you think we could do it now?"

His grip on my cock tightened, and his turgid bone throbbed angrily into
my hip.

I inhaled deeply, considering it. But there were a host of reasons why we
shouldn't just then. First was something clinical I'd have to explain
some other time (leaving Michael the hell out of my acquired wisdom):
prep and cleanliness. Instead, I emphasized that our first time should be
unfettered by worries of waking my family. Additionally, I apologized
that my ass was painfully sore - something that killed off any of his
disappointment.

"Wow. I didn't think about that. You OK?"

"Nothing a frozen bag of peas won't fix," I replied, only half-joking,
then kissed him deeply.

All the same, all those words of love and butt sex had us both vibrating
like tuning forks, and I pulled Justin's tool out of his undies, and
held it in my fingertips. Sliding his fingers through my fly, Justin
followed suit, holding me skin to skin inside my underwear.

While stroking one another steadily, our lips joined again. I don't know
what was more arousing: the way his tongue pressed and rolled against
mine, or the sensation of his circumcised head rolling back and forth in
my fingertips. That soft, furnace-hot skin was stretched drum tight over
his 2-inch passion prong.

Justin's breath grew ragged, and our lips parted. We stroked each other
with harder grips and heated determination. Though my satiny, low-rise
briefs were soft and skimpy, the material still raked against my knob
with Justin's strokes. As my orgasm loomed, I asked  if he were close.

"Uh-huh," he huffed, nodding his head.

I suggested he hump my buns. It wasn't the same as "the real thing,"
but obviously the next best thing.

In moments, he was slicking his door-spring-like boy cock with lube, and
I was fluffing a couple of pillows under my belly.

Justin pulled down the back of my little skin-tight, gossamer briefs,
then hooked the front of his own stretchy white underpants under his
small, smooth nutsack. He slathered a little more lube on his tiny,
tender tool, then leaned into me.

With little ceremony, Justin's aching shaft glided into my upraised
canyon, parting the firm meat of my lithe, swimming-toned buttocks like a
little stiletto. Laying his chest against my shoulder blades, and sliding
one hand under my armpit to hug my chest from behind, Justin kissed my
neck.

At the same time, his right hand fluttered down behind the pillow slope,
where my raging hardness stretched my skimpy briefs with unutterable
need. Gripping my cloth bound boyhood with a viselike fist, he started
stroking my cock, while thrusting into my crevice.

Oh, how much I loved his greasy, rigid rocket flying back and forth
between my twin rubbery slabs. It was obvious how much he was into it by
his grunting exhalations. My ass was bringing him so much pleasure, and I
just wished I could part my ass wider, so his little spear could lightly
graze the inferno he wanted to plow. But it was just as well my
underpants bound my buttocks in a forceful envelope around his rhythmic
thrusts.

"Oh, fuck! Oh fuck! You feel so good, Tommy!"

"God you're hard, Justin!"

"I'm sooooo....close!"

"Fuck me, Justin! Fuck my buns!!"

He pumped faster, harder, rocking the mattress tectonically. At the same
time my hips started rocking, grinding my undie-crushed prong into his
roughly stroking fist. My back and forth gyrations added to the violent
friction on Justin's cock, and moments later, he bit into my shoulder
muscle, then sucked on it, stifling anything but notes of joy from piping
out his nostrils.

His hips bucked again and again, while Justin unloaded his dry, yet
world-shattering eruption between my buttocks.

His dramatic climax pushed me over the edge, and I pumped my pubescent
pole savagely along his grip. Grinding my teeth, I quietly emptied my
lungs, while my brain burst with galactic explosions. Enthralled by the
glorious sensation of Justin in my backside, I lost myself in my cock's
painful hammering.

At last, our pulsations faded, and we both seemed to liquify into a
puddled heap of ripe boy funk. Absently, I felt my crotch, finding it
dry. Justin had already wrung everything out of me!

It took a while, but we clumsily pulled our bedding, pillows and undies
back in place, then rolled onto our sides. Justin spooned around me,
hugging me with one arm, while lightly caressing my left hip and butt
cheek with his other hand.

"Holy fuck, Tommy, that was..."

"Yeah, it was fucking intense."

Before he drifted off into sleep, Justin whispered how he couldn't wait
for us to "lose our cherries."

What is losing your male homo cherry? A lot of gay dudes are not into
butt stuff - are even disgusted by it. So is it giving oral, or getting
it, or both? Or mutual handjobs, or even just kissing? Over the years,
I've come to the conclusion that you lose your gay virginity when you
first actively make another dude cum by any means necessary, for the
sheer joy of it alone. The first time it's not transactional - when you
know you love penis, and you're doing a guy just to make him burst with
ecstasy, regardless of your own happy ending - that's losing your gay
virginity.

But back then, as I snuggled against Justin, I accepted my best friend's
definition, and it was unsettling. No matter what, I had to make sure
Justin never found out I'd already been ass fucked before.

=     =     =     =     =

To be continued...

Related Adult/Youth story:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/lessons-from-the-granny-flat/