Date: Fri, 26 Jun 2009 11:54:18 -0400 From: myob@brucebramson.com Subject: Nature Boy II (story, young gay lovers) NATURE BOY II There was a boy A very strange enchanted boy... And then one day A magic day he passed my way... And this he had to say: "The greatest thing you'll ever learn Is just to love and be loved in return" Eden Ahbez, 1947 I awoke with the room bathed in sunlight, entwined as if we had not moved all night. My arms around Charlie held his warm body as close to mine as they could. Except for being hungry--I'd not eaten food since the day before--I was content in a way I'd never been before. Charlie's steady breathing told me he was still asleep, so I luxuriated in his warmth and thought back over recent events. My comfort level with so much that was new made it clear my life had taken a major turn, in a direction I could not have imagined just a few weeks back. When my left arm under Charlie fell asleep, I withdrew it carefully, hoping not to wake him. This allowed me to sit up and lean over to observe his beauty. His long hair fell across his face, obscuring much of it, yet adding to its mysterious affect on me: there is nothing so lovely as a sleeping boy, I thought, especially one who has told me he loves me. I bent down and whispered in Charlie's ear: "I love you, Charlie: you're so perfect, so beautiful, so sexy!" Charlie was awake after all. He suddenly grabbed my head, rolled all of me over to face him, and planted his mouth over mine in yet another of his wondrous kisses as he hugged me tightly. I was, as the old saying goes, in seventh heaven! "Good morning, lover," Charlie said huskily. "Morning, Charlie!" The embrace had us both aroused: or was it that we needed to pee? "Race ya to the toilet!" We jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, our little hard-ons leading the way and bouncing with each step. At the toilet we stood waiting, but nothing happened. We burst out laughing: "I can't piss with this hard-on," Charlie chuckled. "Can't either." "Take your mind off it: whatcha want for breakfast?" "You." "Don't be silly! You can't eat me. ... Oh, well, I guess you can, but later! Tom's the cook around here, makes terrific omelettes." "What's a omelette?" I'd never had one. "Eggs 'n stuff. Ooowheee, here it comes!" Charlie's softened prick produced a copious stream of warm golden nectar into the toilet: mine followed suit. Pissing together seemed so natural and fun. I had never even thought of doing it with my little brother: I'd seen him taking a whiz in the bathroom a few times, but never felt inclined to join him. Yet here Charlie and I were, emptying our bladders, aiming our streams so they met, just as our minds were meeting. I remembered Charlie's remark back in the woods: "You're a horny little guy, just like me." We shook the last drops from our respective little pricks, already getting hard again, and returned to the bedroom. By the time we got there, we were fully erect, ready for action. "Remember what you told me when we met?" I asked Charlie. "No, what?" " 'You're a horny little guy, just like me.' " "Oh, yeah. Well, you are!" He pushed me roughly on to the bed. "So are you, you ... you ... little devil!" "Devil? Me?" I grabbed him roughly. "No, sorry, you're an angel. An angel disguised as a cute boy. And you're mine: my little angel!" We tussled and groped and grabbed there on the bed, exploring, getting familiar with what we each liked to do in the morning. There was no question where our rough-housing was leading. "I know two randy kids that need a good breakfast!" It was Tom, standing nude in the doorway. "Its ready: come and eat before you get all sticky with love juice. Wash your teeth first, though." We rushed to the bathroom sink: Charlie produced a new toothbrush and we washed and brushed and tidied up side by side, touching each other as often as we could. Charlie ran a brush through his long hair, pulled it back and tied a knot in it: suddenly, he had a pony-tail. He looked a bit more girlish, yet strangely even more beautiful to me because it exposed all the features of his face I found so captivating. The freedom of nudity was rapidly growing on me as we scampered into the kitchen: cooking odors filled our nostrils, and my hunger came on strong. Tom was at the stove cooking things and Harley was setting up the table and serving. They, too, were without clothes. Harley filled glasses with Tang, others with milk, and set before us two plates: each had a large yellow lump of something, several strips of bacon and two large pancakes. I recognized the pancakes and bacon, and decided the lump was an omelette. When I tried it, I found it delicious. In fact, all the food was tasty in a way my mother's was not, and we ate voraciously the way growing boys do. "Any seconds? I asked. "Juicy?" Harley asked. "Harley, stop that! These boys are too young to know about 'juicy seconds'," Tom scolded, laughing. "Wanna bet?" Harley sulked: he poured more Tang and dropped more pancakes on our plates. We fell into the food again, and finally got our fill. "Guess I gotta go home," I said, saddened by the thought. "Yes indeed! We can't have your parents reporting you missing," Harley said. "I really don't want to go, but I guess I hafta, 'n I gotta get dressed, too: darn!" "I'll go with you!" Charlie exclaimed. I wanna meet your folks." "Super! Thanks Tom, thanks Harley: terrific breakfast!" "Don't mention it!" Tom said, "we love seeing you and Charlie together. Any time!" Back in Charlie's room we fixed up the bed and sorted out the clothes we had abandoned all over the floor. "Gonna tell ya somethin', Jimmy," Charlie said conspiratorially, standing close. "Like?" "I love you!" He held my face and gave me another of his sloppy kisses: "and another thing: if you don't wear any shorts under those pants, it'll keep you up all day, so when we play again, you'll be all rarin' to go!" "Gosh, I'm 'rarin' to go' right now! But I gotta be home or the folks'll have a fit!" Charlie pulled on a pair of pants from his closet, pointedly avoiding shorts: mine he snatched from my hands as I was about to put them on and tossed them behind the lounge chair. I had no choice: I pulled my denims up into place with nothing under them. I'd never done so before, so the sensation was strange, but pleasant. My dick sprang up at once, but the full-cut denims of those days billowed out and my protuberance was scarcely noticeable. Charlie gave it a squeeze. "I'm learning to like that little thing a whole lot!" he said as we finished dressing. We called our good-bye's to Tom and Harley somewhere in the house, went out to the rear gate and into our favorite forest. It was already warm, high summer, and we walked hand-in-hand, stopping now and then to embrace, or to examine something that caught our eye, or watch a bird or squirrel. At our fence, I pushed the boards aside so we could get into the yard, then replaced the boards and headed for the house. Once there, we found the living- room door locked. "That's not right: what time is it?" I asked Charlie. "Dunno: forgot my watch. Must be around 9, though." "Darn! The folks musta gone to work already. But my brother Bobby should be here." I pounded on the door. After a brief wait, my brother's voice came from inside: "Who's there?" "Its me, Jimmy! Open up." There was fumbling with the lock, then the door opened. Bobby stood, clad only in pyjamas. We pushed past him. "Bobby: this is my friend Charlie. Charlie, Bobby. Where are the folks?" "At work, of course. They were mad as heck you weren't here for breakfast." My brother Bobby was nearing 11 and was essentially a smaller version of me. Standing there in his pyjamas, I realized suddenly that he was growing up fast. He was fascinated by Charlie--who wouldn't be?--and sidled closer to him. Charlie dropped his arm around Bobby's shoulder in an affectionate gesture and subtly pulled him closer: I had done as much many times. But the effect on Bobby this time was quickly evident: his P-Js poked out quickly, and he put his hands over himself. "Don't hide it, Bobby: its nothing to be ashamed of," Charlie admonished. He turned to me: "So, we have all day, I guess; now what'll we do? It was a good question. In the summer time, I was required to look after my little brother: once school started, it would only be afternoons, but now it was all day. He had a TV in his room, and spent most of his time watching kiddie stuff I'd grown out of. Now, I thought, the time had come to introduce Bobby to the forest. "We'll go into the forest and look for bugs or something," I suggested. "We aren't supposed to, you know," Bobby explained. "Yes, I know, but I go there lotsa times when yer buried in that TV junk. Its time you got out of the house and saw some of the world. The three of us can have a good time." "Okay, but you're already in trouble ya know," Bobby said. I knew I was, but couldn't let either of my companions know it bothered me. "Get some pants on, Bobby," I said as all three of us headed for his bedroom. I shut off the TV. Bobby pulled off his P-Js and stood nude for a few moments. He was definitely a smaller version of me, his crotch showing promise of what was to come in the fullness of time. Charlie seemed captivated by Bobby's small body, and I could scarcely blame him: in just a few years Bobby would be a much better-looking kid than I ever was. But for now, Bobby swiftly pulled on a pair of little blue Y-fronts and a pair of well-worn denims handed down from me. We headed back to the family room, where I took down the house-key and we headed out into the yard. Bobby was amazed by my removable fence-boards and we scuttled through and into the forest. The three of us held hands a lot as we poked around showing Bobby all the neat things we were familiar with: special trees that were easy to climb, dead trees with bracket-fungus, special places for bugs salamanders and worms, bird nests, squirrel-runs, deer tracks and so forth. Bobby took it all in, though he seemed less enthusiastic about nature than Charlie and me. My wee-wee was hard the entire time because I had no shorts on: my denims constantly rubbed my penis and balls (assisted from time to time by a surreptitious grope from Charlie). Around noon we all pissed together on a large rock: the stone was so warm our pee evaporated fragrantly almost as fast as we deposited it. I noticed Bobby's fascination with Charlie's larger penis: I kinda liked the looks of my brother's smaller one. It will be fun to watch it grow, I thought. We traipsed back to the house about two in the afternoon: Bobby went to his room and immediately became absorbed in a kiddie program on the TV. Charlie and I raided the refrigerator and ate sandwiches at the kitchen table, stared into each other's eyes, played footsie under the table. I was horny. It was plain to see Charlie was horny, too. It was risky, I knew, but I got down on the floor under the table and attacked Charlie's crotch, where I found what I expected: his hard-on waiting to be sucked. "We can't do that here," Charlie whispered. "Bobby might see us." "Mmmngh." "There must be someplace we can be alone!" "Mmmngh." Charlie pulled me up off his erection. "Ya got a garage?" he asked. "Sure: through that door. Mom's car is in there." "Come on then." Charlie led me to and through the door. The garage was dark, but some light came through a window in the roll-up door; mom's car was a small SUV. Charlie lifted the rear hatch. "Good! Seats are down, we got a good play-pen," he said as he climbed into the back of the car: I was right behind him, and we melted into each other's arms. We kissed passionately, professed our undying love for each other, and got busy in each other's pants. I'd been hoping Charlie would drop my zipper and liberate my pecker all day, and when he actually did so, I thought nothing could feel so exciting. He responded in kind as I ferreted out his penis, not hard to find in the folds of his pants. His prick seemed harder than ever: our romp in the forest had stimulated him just as it did me. "Turn around," Charlie ordered. I did as bid, realizing at once that in this position we could suck each other at the same time. How fortunate boys are, I thought, to be built like this! I attacked Charlie's erection with gusto as he attached his mouth to my hard- on. Though the activity was certainly exciting and fun, I found it tough to concentrate. I either wanted to pay full attention to getting Charlie's load, or I wanted to attend to producing my own for him. I could not seem to do both. My mind wandered to a popular song of the time, and I re-wrote the last line in my thoughts as I worked on Charlie: *The greatest thing you'll ever learn ... Is just to suck and be sucked in return.* I began to laugh and had to stop. "What's so funny?" I told Charlie what I'd been thinking. He giggled uproariously, his boyish voice music to my ears. "I'll never hear that song again without thinking of your version," he laughed. We returned to the matters at hand--and mouths. But doing two things at once was difficult for my lover as well: we eventually stopped for breath. I decided the chief problem with mutual sucking was that I couldn't kiss Charlie, or he me: so I reversed myself again and we kissed, and kissed, and kissed again. I loved how Charlie's tongue felt, either as I caressed it with mine, or he wiggled his against me. "I want your cream, Charlie," I said as I rearranged myself over him in preparation for our first real sex of the day. "Its yours..." I threw my arms around his legs, still encapsulated in his pants and pulled him up to meet my face. I was content not to undress him: I bit the top hem of his pants and pulled the snap open, giving me full access since his zipper was long since down. I drank in his aroma: just enough sweat, just enough pee, just enough boy-smell: an aphrodisiac, it sent intense nerve-impulses from my nose down to my prick by way of my brain. I drew his dick into my mouth, savored its flavor, its hardness, its silky- smooth exterior, its bulbous head. I ran my tongue all around that head, tickling it here and there, especially the under-side of it. "Oh, Jimmy, that feels awesome!" "Mmmngh." I could tell he was close to giving me his load. "Jimmy, Jimmy, oh, take my cum!" "Mmmngh." He erupted. His turgid cock gave up its goodies in a series of peristaltic waves, each ending in a minor flood of his love-potion: ...six, seven, eight (some people count things: I counted the contractions of his orgasm) nine, ten, eleven. This marvelous youth, this lover of mine, was a real shooter, and I drank every drop of his seed, marveling at its slickness and taste. Altogether, his explosion overwhelmed me: I had naturally managed to clutch my own pecker at the right moment and in the throes of receiving his offering shot my own cream up into the crotch of his pants, all over the carpet of the car, and (as I wound down) into my pants. I collapsed beside his heaving body, sated. "It's my turn," Charlie said after a while. "Sorry: you got me so hot I already did it." "You came? You jizzed?" I grasped his hand and put it down into his crotch where my goo had landed. "Oh, that's so messy!" he sounded disappointed. "Now I can't stay and meet your folks, not with cum-stains all over my pants." "Sorry," I repeated. "I just couldn't help it! You get me so hot and bothered, Charlie, I 'jizzed', as you call it, when you did." "That's OK, Jimmy, I forgive you." He kissed me sloppily, as always. "The supply never runs out. But I will hafta go home, and you will hafta clean up the back of this car!" "Oops, hadn't thought of that!" We arranged ourselves so we could see the spots of my pearly-white exudate. I pulled out my hanky and smeared it around: it was soon absorbed by the carpet. "Mom'll never notice," I said, relieved: we climbed out of the car and shut the hatch. As we opened the door into the kitchen, Bobby was standing there drinking a soda. He gave us both a really funny look. For one thing, we had both forgotten to zip up; for another, there were numerous dark blue blotches of something in and around the crotch of Charlie's denims. We were caught, perhaps not *in flagrante dilecto,* but damn near it. "Don't tell me you never play with your little dinky, Bobby," I said as Charlie and I realized why we were being stared at and zipped ourselves up. "You know it feels good." There was no response, and Bobby headed back to his beloved TV. "You really are a mess," I told Charlie. "I hope you don't run into that awful Doug on your way home: he'll know you've been 'doin' the nasty', as he put it." "No. I'll get home alright, but I gotta go before your folks get here. Kiss me goodbye." We hugged and kissed: I hated to end it. "Ummmmm! I'm gonna tell on you!" It was Bobby's voice, as he caught us in a clinch. Rats! I thought. "No you won't, you little rascal, or I'll..." Charlie came to my rescue: he bent down--he didn't have far to go--and planted one of his famous kisses right on my brother's mouth. Bobby's eyes opened wide, but his hands instinctively reached around Charlie to pull him closer. The kiss was short, but sweet. "See? That's why we were kissing," Charlie told Bobby. "Doesn't it feel good?" "Mmmngh." Bobby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He still looked startled, but there was a sly smile there that told me my secret was safe. **************** It was a summer I shall never forget. Charlie and I were inseparable. I slept at his place as often as my folks would permit, which was several times a week. I suspect they were glad not to have to feed me as much as usual. There were, of course, a few logistical details we had to work out. For example, Charlie's parents became Tom and "Arlene", which is what my mother thought she heard when either of us said Tom and Harley. The concept of two daddies, had we made a point of it, would have been beyond her comprehension. At his place or ours, Charlie and I had sex at every opportunity. Far more experienced at it than I, and with a much larger collection of terms for the various aspects of it, Charlie was my mentor, and I picked up his vocabulary along with his techniques. But when it came to being in love, it was my turn: Charlie's early years in foster care had hardened him, and though he made love expertly, he did not love me the way I loved him. The words and the deeds were there, but the emotions were very slow to develop. For him, it was a facile sort of love: for me, a deep visceral response that perfused my very being. We repeated the scene in the back of mom's SUV so many times, usually re-creating of our first time there, that the carpet began to get shiny in places: I had to scrub it now and then. Bobby became enured to seeing us kissing or one or the other of us with cum-spots on his pants, and did, finally catch us "at it" towards the end of summer. Charlie and I had been fooling around half undressed in my bedroom: usually we had sex at his place, where his daddies would never bother us (though I'm sure they watched now and then). But this day we got past the foreplay and into the thick of it, forgetting where we were. When Bobby let us know he was watching from the doorway (we had not even closed the door!) we had to figure out what to do quickly. As usual, it was Charlie who saved the day. "Won't you join us?" he invited. Bobby had turned eleven in August, and was swiftly catching up to me in height and precociousness. "Sure!" He joined us on my bed, where he dove for Charlie's mouth: he'd become fond of Charlie's penetrating kisses, and I couldn't blame him in the least! I was unsure how to proceed; he was my little brother, after all: I was supposed to protect him from harm. Yet by now I knew there was nothing harmful about loving: why shouldn't Bobby be in on our secret? I stepped off the bed, shed a few more clothes and pulled Charlie's pants off as he took care of Bobby's need to "suck face". "I'll close the door now," in case the folks come home." I couldn't think of anything else to say. "Mmmngh." "Mmmngh." I was feeling left out! The boys finally parted. Charlie dove for the fly of Bobby's pants. I know how great that feels, I thought to myself as my brother's pecker came into view. Had we measured, I suspect he might have been slightly longer than me there, already: he was fully hard, rampant, ready for action. He pushed his pants and shorts down: there was a gleam in his eye that told me he was rapidly comprehending why Charlie and I spent so much time together. I removed his shirt. We were, after all, brothers, and could easily have been mistaken for twins at this stage. (Today we are quite different.) So, watching my brother's body come into full view was almost like watching my reflection in the bathroom mirror (which I frequently did). And, I suddenly realized, given the similarities between us, *having sex with Bobby would be very much like having sex with myself!* It was a remarkably erotic thought: my drooping cock sprang up. Wild horses could not have stopped me as I rather roughly pushed him down on the bed and plunged his erection into my mouth. If Charlie was disappointed not to be the first to suck Bobby's dick, he didn't show it: he stretched out, put his head on Bobby's thigh and pulled his balls into his mouth. "Holy cow, you guys!" "Mmmngh." "Mmmngh." I think I worked harder on Bobby than I ever had on Charlie: I was ravenous. I wanted him to get his first and finest blow job from his older brother. "Jeezus, Jimmy! What are you guys doing?" "Mmmngh." I had one hand under his butt, pulling it up to meet my hungry mouth: I held his shoulders down with my other hand. I didn't want him to *see* his brother sucking him off, I wanted him to *feel* his brother sucking him off. I detected the familiar signs of an imminent orgasm. "Oh, Ow! What the ..." "Mmmngh." "Mmmngh." "Mmmngh." I sucked like there was no tomorrow! Charlie had got busy with his hands: one was fondling my brother's nuts, the other was jacking me furiously. Bobby shot his wad! Gawd, how he shot! He bucked, he shouted, he moaned, and he came and came and came. So did I: Charlie's hand-job (quite unusual since we usually did it orally) brought me to a fantastic orgasm as I sprayed my pearls of cum out over Bobby's smooth hairless tummy. Not to be left out, Charlie moved around and flailed his dick faster than I'd ever seen him do before: I fondled his balls, pulled up tight under his prick, and watched in amazement as he shot into the puddles already decorating my brother. We collapsed in a disheveled heap of young arms, legs, drooping pricks and panting bodies. **************** The three of us never got it on together again. My little brother seemed content to whack off in his own bedroom, and I was utterly content with Charlie. We were both growing up, except we didn't realize there were any changes taking place because we were constantly together. As the summer wound down, first came the shorter days, then the cicadas: they're so difficult to see in the trees, yet they sing in the late afternoon to produce a cacophony of sizzles. Later in the evening, the fireflies were fun to watch, often from just outside the famous boards, our backs to the fence and our pricks in each other's hands. As the season turned, it grew cooler, the trees began to turn or drop their leaves. Pretty soon it was too cold to stay in the forest past sundown. I spent as much time snuggled up with Charlie as I could, apprehensive about the start of school not far off: we would find it difficult to be together as much as we had been all summer. One of those fantastic nights in Charlie's bed we had been watching dirty movies for a while; before that we'd splashed around in the big bath tub, then showered. We spent what seemed like hours just playing with each other, teasing, getting hard, going soft, kissing, sucking, jacking, edging. I was indescribably happy to be there with my lover: I could not get enough of his perfection. I was amazed when Charlie implored me, "Jimmy, lick my starfish." I pushed his rump up and ran my tongue up his crack. It had been many months since I'd first done this: at the time, watching someone licking Harley's ass in that movie had given me the idea, but Charlie seemed not to like it, so I hadn't persisted. Yet, here he was asking me to do it. Of course, I would do anything for Charlie! I parted his cheeks and plunged my tongue into his behind. There was the slightest trace of a sour taste soon gone right around his hole. I continued to slather his little pink rosebud with saliva: Charlie moaned with pleasure, reached around and held himself open so I could use my hands elsewhere, one to fondle his balls and the other to feel the hardness of his prick. It was intensely erotic. "Jimmy, fuck me." I thought back: I remembered saying to Charlie soon after we'd met, "Maybe someday you'll ask me to do that: only then." So here was 'then' at last; my lover had asked! I really had no idea how to proceed, though we'd watched fuck- flicks together enough to know the mechanics of it. Apparently Charlie had watched Tom and Harley in the flesh: he had a better idea of how to do it. I knew it wasn't his first time: he'd told me about being molested. Suddenly, I was terribly afraid: the idea of inflicting pain on my boy-friend horrified me. "I don't know how, Charlie," I whimpered, "I don't want to hurt you. I'd never want to hurt you." "You won't. Just get me real wet with your spit, then put your cock in. I want it inside. I want your jizz inside me. You've seen it done." His rump was still up, his hands still held his cheeks apart, his hole was still sloppily moist. I spat into my hand, rubbed my hard- on with saliva, then climbed into position. It was easier than expected: my cock slipped up Charlie's rectum smoothly. Charlie let go of his cheeks, jammed a pillow under his middle and relaxed. "Now, Jimmy, fuck me hard!" I knew the motion: I balanced my self on my arms and thrust my dick in and out, in and out. It felt unlike anything I had experienced up to then, different from anything we had done together. It felt wonderful! "Oh, Jimmy, oh! Fuck me, lover, make me cum!" I thought is was me that was supposed to cum, but who cared? I fucked harder and faster, building towards the climax we both wanted. I was panting, sweating with exertion; every muscle in my body worked to please my beautiful boyfriend. "I'm gonna cum, Charlie, can't hold back." "Yes, lover, yes! Make me cum! By gonads convulsed. Jizz poured from my dick, buried as deeply as I could force it into Charlie's rump. It seemed as though I could not stop cumming, almost as if I was pissing my jizz into Charlie. Charlie made no sound and slowly relaxed; I eventually wound down enough to let my weight fall fully on him. We were panting like dogs. We remained coupled until Charlie said he simply had to change position because I was crushing him. We rolled apart. There was a huge wet spot on the pillow where Charlie had cum, at the same time my seed had invaded his colon. I never knew such a thing was possible! We both fell asleep without further conversation. The last thing I remember was the sensation of my cock still dribbling jizz: where did it all come from? **************** Inexorably, school began: I was back at Wilson in the eighth grade. The "buzz" was that Doug had been arrested for "going after some kid" (the manner unspecified) and he'd been packed off to reform-school. His bully groupies remained to torment me and many others. My routine changed radically. Charlie's dads were strict in their tutoring, keeping him busy at his desk or on his computer many long hours. Our ability to be together for any activity was severely curtailed, and our sex life diminished. I had to look after my brother and keep him at his studies, and attend to my own homework as well. Fortunately, I liked to read books: my folks refused to buy a computer. The first snow blew in on a cold wind one morning: it dislodged the loose boards in our fence. I convinced my dad I could fix them, and did so, simply making it less likely for the wind to knock them down again. With the weather bad, there was little reason to go into the forest anyway. As my opportunities for sex diminished, my libido increased, I found my attention wandering to some of the other boys in the school. As ususal, my eye fell first on Frankie, who looked like he'd spent the entire summer in the sun: he was several shades darker and a bit taller than when I'd seen him last. (My own slight increase in pigmentation and other physical changes I had not noticed.) He was not quite so handsome as my Charlie, but was close. As it happened, though, the first boy I had any sex with in school was, of course, was one of Doug's friends. He cornered me in the boys' toilet one day and shoved me into a cubicle. "Doug told me you suck dick, pretty boy," he said, roughly ripping open his jeans, "so suck this!" He pushed me to my knees and jabbed my face with his cock. He must have been contemplating this moment for weeks, because he shot his load almost before I got into position. There was no one at the ready with a big flashlight, either: so I swallowed what I could of him as he came, to avoid being showered with cum and having to wear it back to class. He buttoned-up as quickly as he could and strutted out, leaving me shaken but intact. I hoped he wouldn't spread the word about me, but he did. Similar episodes were repeated several times, so I avoided the boys' room like the plague, going so far as to pee behind some bushes rather than have to go in the conventional fashion. Inevitably, the word got back to Frankie, who began to seek my company in class and projects. I was delighted, of course, unaware he knew about me. I was naive and preoccupied, and failed to comprehend his actions until he groped me under a table one day: I was so surprised I let out a loud squawk, to my everlasting embarrassment and the teacher's annoyance. I got a de-merit sticker for that one. But I suddenly realized I just might get into Frankie's pants. It turned out he lived in a large old home: it had been the ranch- house for what became the subdivision of modern "ranch" houses in which both Charlie and I lived. The place had a huge, dimly-lit attic stuffed with old trunks, old beds, old furniture, old boxes full of stuff. He took me up there as soon as we got to his place one Friday: I could stay away Friday afternoons when Bobby had swimming lessons, and catch up on studying Saturday or Sunday. We tumbled on to an old bed, and he began groping me again as he had in class. But now, I was free to grope him back, and I went at it feverishly. I hadn't had sex for over a week, and was randy and ready: Frankie certainly seemed willing and able. We messed around for a while, slowly shedding items of clothing until down to our skivies. My dick had been hard from the moment we began, and his shorts were impressively tented out, barely concealing the object of my intense interest. Now that I had him nearly nude, I overlooked the features that had so attracted me in the first place: his lovely face, his arms and legs. All I wanted was a good look at that dick behind the white cloth stretched over it. It was surely bigger than my cousin Tim's. We stood up, ready for action, but Frankie suddenly turned bashful. "We shouldn't do this, you know," he said. "Why not?" "Its wrong, just is." His hard-on was beginning to wilt. "You started it!" I said, unable to fathom his reticence. "I just like you, Jimmy: that's all. It ain't like we're lovers or something." I wondered where he'd even heard the word. "Look, Frankie: I think you're one of the cutest guys in the whole school! I've wanted to get into it with you for a coupla years; now we're standing here in our shorts, alone, hard, and you're gonna be a quitter?" "Uh, so, whatcha wanna do?" I knew I had him! "Well, first, I wanna suck your gorgeous dick! We can make it up as we go along from there." I was ready to rip his shorts off, but held myself in check: I didn't want to force him and be sent off to reform school like that bully, Doug. I waited while my offer sank in. His dick began to rise again as he thought it over. "Nobody's ever done that," he whispered, slowly peeling his shorts out over his fast-rising hard-on, "nobody ever has." Frankie had the first fully-formed pubic bush I ever saw! Everyone I'd known up to that point was either too young, or shaved, or had not dropped their trousers far enough for me to see. The hair was tightly curled: it covered his pubic bone and little else, save for a faint trace heading up towards his navel. He also had the first distinct tan-line I'd ever seen. He owned skimpy speedos! His hard prick curved upward at a rakish angle: it was quite a bit longer than cousin Tim's as I expected. Like Tim, he was uncircumcised: the head of his dick was covered by foreskin despite his hard-on. It was lovely: he was lovely. Here was the boy I'd lusted-after for years, all but nude and soon to be totally so, standing right in front of me, ready for action. I knelt slowly, braced myself against his shapely brown legs and began to tease him with my tongue. If his was a virgin dick, I was going to make him beg before I got it all in my mouth! Frankie released his shorts which fell around his ankles. I ran my tongue over the head of his dick, then down along one side of the shaft and under his balls. His scratchy pubic hair was another new sensation for me. Frankie moaned as I moved down the inside of his thighs, slathering his smooth brown skin with saliva. I knew nothing of erogenous zones in those days, but my sessions with Charlie had taught me there were places far away from the penis that responded to a tongue. One spot I knew was behind my knees; a tongue applied there sent chills up my spine. Charlie could drive me crazy this way, and I thought maybe Frankie would respond in like fashion. But he had only one sensitive area that I could find after considerable exploration: the very base of his penis as it disappeared back toward his spine. He cried out when I found this and applied my tongue vigorously. "Oh, man, Jimmy! That's fantastic!" "Mmmngh." I twisted around into a sitting position and lapped at his pudendum insatiably, reaching up with my hand to tease his hard- on: I steadied myself with my other hand on the floor behind me. If Frankie liked this, I was willing to do it all afternoon. He was beginning to leak, and I smeared his slimy pre-cum around the end of his cock, still slathering the base of it with my tongue. By pushing myself up with effort, I could nibble at the folds of skin behind his balls: it sent him into a frenzy. He grabbed himself, and only with difficulty could I prevent him from jacking off. I forced his hand away. "Wanna shoot, Jimmy," he wailed, "wanna shoot my sticky stuff." "Mmmngh." It was hard not to laugh: I hadn't heard that term in a long time. "Pleeeeease!" Begging! I could tell he was close: his natural lubricant flowed generously. I spread it around his pole, then reversed myself again and jacked him slowly with both hands, fucked his cock with my slippery fists, and worked him up to my finale: I plunged all of that lovely cock into my mouth just as he erupted. "Oh ... my ... gawd ... Jimmy!" he spoke between deep breaths as his volcanic eruption filled my throat. "I ... never ... felt ... anything ... like that ... before!" Frankie's was the largest of the few dicks I had sucked at this point in my life, and I was pleased with my ability to accommodate it without choking. As he began to soften I let him slip out of my mouth. I needed to get off now, myself: working him up had been thrilling. I stood, my cock still in my shorts and less than fully hard: it needed some stimulus. A long look at Frankie's lovely body helped: his dark color accentuated the shapeliness of his appendages, even of his drooping, dribbling cock. His thighs were especially nice, so I pushed him down on the bed, grabbed his left leg and pulled it up under my balls. I rubbed my cock against his hard muscles and quickly blasted my "sticky stuff" across the smooth expanse of his dark thigh. My seed arrayed in long streaks along his tanned leg was a lovely sight: to this day a load of cum against dark skin is a quick turn-on. "We shouldn't have done that," Frankie said. He lacked conviction: he'd enjoyed getting off through the agency of a friend, instead of simply jacking off alone as he usually did. "Its not like we are the only two guys in the world that have sex together, you know," I replied. "Its not right." Frankie was the first of many kids I've known who could not admit to themselves (much less to anyone else) they enjoyed sex with a guy. "You enjoyed it, you know you did. That makes it right enough for me!" Frankie found an old rag to wipe my cum from his leg, pulled up his shorts and slid back into his pants as I did the same. "Well, I enjoyed it: like I said, I think you're one of the cutest guys in the whole school. I've fantasized about doing it with you for years, and it was wonderful! I hope we can do it again." "No, we shouldn't," Frankie said with even less conviction. "Its not right..." But, a week later, we were back in his attic, doing together the things we "shouldn't" . It became a regular occurrence. **************** The Principal of the school caught me peeing behind a bush one day. He refused to accept my explanation as to why I could not use the boys' room. I found another bush, and another of Doug's friends found me there one day. He was actually a handsome fellow, lean and fit, who could have been very nice; but peer- pressure led him into a loutish lifestyle of sloppy clothes, goofy haircut and so forth. He forced me to suck his cock (smaller than my little brother's!) and made me drink his piss as well. After I swallowed his measly load, he pushed my head against his shrinking dick and let go: at first I thought he was cumming a second time. When I realized what he was doing, it was too late; I had swallowed, so I just continued to swallow until he stopped peeing and released me. "Beats the urinal in the mens-room all to hell," he said as he zipped up. I sought out another bush. The school year slogged along, the weather got wet and sloppy. I hated winter! I slept many Saturday nights with Charlie who I loved deeply despite the fact I was sucking other guys. I sucked Frankie almost every Friday, even though he never failed to protest and never failed to get his rocks off. Except for Frankie, those whose loads I got were not fellows I cared about or would ever have gone after: they were all bullies who knew me as a cock-sucker. No one in the school seemed to care about the bullies, I suppose because their antics were not flagrantly obvious: quickies in the boys-room or the bushes went unnoticed. I endured the insults and assaults because they were essentially harmless, and because I had to admit I was a cock-sucker after all. If I'd been able to live with Charlie, I'd have been a good little boy all the time. **************** My fifteenth birthday--my quinceanera as it were--occurred in early November: it should have been a wonderful time, but it wasn't. The actual day occurred on Wednesday, so the party was moved to Saturday. At first, Charlie's daddies wanted to be the hosts and invite my parents and all. They hatched a plan where Harley would disappear and a woman they knew would stand in as Tom's wife. I said no to that idea right away; there were too many opportunities for disaster. Almost any slip of the tongue could have been calamitous. Instead, there would be two parties: one in the afternoon at my house, and one in the evening at Charlie's. To the latter, with some trepidation, I invited my brother. Mom asked me to invite some friends from school: the truth was, the only friend I had was Frankie, so he was there. But mom invited cousin Tim, who arrived in his snazzy new car. Where the wispy hairs on his wrists had drawn my attention previously, he now had hair everywhere: in six months or so he'd gone from a passably decent-looking guy to a ugly, hairy man. Worse, he brought along his current girlfriend. Sarah was a recent transplant from Lost Angeles: she was blond, brassy, brazen and befuddled. (If you remember Gloria from _Auntie Mame_, you have the picture.) She hung on Tim as if attached at the hip and pawed at him often enough that he was half hard most of the day. The quintessential prick-teaser, I'm sure she never even gave Tim a hand-job. He saw at once that Charlie and I were boyfriends. But the meat in Tim's pants seemed to fascinate Charlie, whose eyes landed on it hungrily from time to time. The rest of the time he was ogling Frankie. Even though I myself had sucked off every boy at the party, I was jealous of Charlie. The charged atmosphere had me in a tizzy. It didn't help that mom flitted around pointlessly. She eventually served a cake and ice- cream, both bought. Dad watched in his usual fog. Sarah even used the old ruse of spilling ice-cream in Tim's lap so she could feel him up. The party dragged on. When Tim went to the bathroom, I feared Charlie would follow: to my surprise, it was Bobby who did, and they were gone an awfully long time! I was sure Tim wanted to get back at me for pissing in his laundry: he wanted Charlie to suck him off, but had to settle for my little brother. Eventually, gifts materialized. Mom, of course, gave me clothes: mothers always do. Dad, "out of the loop" as usual, gave me a book about baseball heros! I hated baseball, thought it was an utterly stupid waste of time, and never played unless forced to at school. I don't think I ever caused a bat and ball to connect. Bobby, bless him, was more perceptive: he gave me a book about how to identify trees. Frankie apologized for having no present. I didn't mind: I'd had many presents from him, with the promise of more to come. That party finally ended about four, and after cleaning up the mess, Charlie, Bobby and I set out for Charlie's place. By the time we got there it was dark: the understanding was Bobby and I would stay overnight. The first order of business was explaining Charlie's family situation to Bobby. He accepted this with aplomb. Next, we had to explain about everyone going nude. His reaction to this was less enthusiastic, but the three of us went to Charlie's room to disrobe. "You see, Bobby, Charlie and I are lovers, like Tom and Harley." "I know." "You do?" "Sure. I got two friends at school like that, they told me all about it. You 'n Charlie don't exactly hide the fact." Charlie looked appreciatively at Bobby as he shucked his pants. "Gee, Bobby. You've grown!" It was true! At eleven, Bobby's dick now looked larger than mine at 15. "That sucks!" I exclaimed. "No, you do!" Bobby retorted. Attention to his dick had the expected effect. Soon the three of us were comparing our respective private parts, and those of the others. Charlie produced a ruler, and once we agreed measurements should be along the top, it turned out Charlie and I were matched at five inches "more or less", but Bobby was nearly an inch up on both of us. "There's no justice!" I pouted. "Now I can't call you my 'little' brother any more." We returned to the family room: Tom, in a frilly apron, was at the stove, and Harley was setting up the table: he had on the skimpiest speedo I'd ever seen. "Didn't want to scare your little brother," Harley explained in response to my surprised look. "We just discovered he's not my 'little' brother any more! His dick's bigger'n mine 'n Charlie's." "Why, so it is!" Harley feigned surprise. "Oh well, these things happen!" " 'Tain't fair! I'm fifteen 'n he's only eleven!" "Eleven and three months," Bobby explained. "Must be that three months that's done it," Charlie chimed in. "Dinner's ready!" Tom called out. The five of us took our places. Several pots of food were on the table, and after Harley called out "Grace", Tom went to the oven and brought forth a large roast. Despite the earlier party, we boys were already hungry again so we waded in. The food was wonderful! Clearly Tom knew his spices, something my mom did not. The subject of that earlier party came up. "Your cousin's girlfriend is a tart," Charlie said. "Yeah, she's a real prick-teaser," I looked at Bobby, who had a smug expression on his face. "So, did you?" I asked. "Did I what?" "You know! Did ya suck Tim's dick when you two went to the bathroom?" "Yeah: he said Sarah won't suck him off, so he finds guys to do it. He's even bigger than I am." "Wish I'd seen it," Charlie said wistfully. "Looked to me like Frankie had a big one, too." "Charlie!" Tom exclaimed, "you're becoming a regular size-queen!" "No, only curiosity. The big ones like you got or the guys in the movies almost look unreal: there's nothing like the real thing." As we finished dinner and Tom brought out a fine home-made cake with fifteen candles, we got around to discussing what might have happened if we'd gone ahead with earlier plans to have my folks over. "Mom, this is Tom, and this is Harley, his wife." Imagining my mother's reaction sent us into gales of laughter. "Um hmmm, that's nice, dear," Charlie mimicked my mother's flat voice. More laughter! "Dad, this is Tom and this is Harley: they are my two daddies." I really think that line would have gone right over my dad's head: he went through life sort of "out of it". "Seriously, guys, do you think mom or dad has any clue?" "No; dad, I'm certain has no idea what's going on: he's always in a fog. Mom, I'm not so sure," Bobby said. "Why?" "She watches Charlie like a hawk when he's at our place. She said once she doesn't like his long hair: too much like a girl." Charlie pulled his hair back as I'd seen him do so many time and tied a knot in it. "Any better?" "Yes, I said: I can see all of your face when you do that, and I love it. I love you, for that matter: guess you know that." "Charlie leaned over and gave me one of his wonderful sloppy kisses. "Sure o, lover, and in an hour or so, I'm gonna prove it!" "Cute little love-birds," Bobby sneered. "You're just jealous!" Charlie rejoined. "Now boys, break it up! There's presents to do, and then we all hafta get our beauty-sleep," Tom admonished. Tom and Harley gave me a very expensive wind-breaker jacket, something I needed for the lousy winter weather. Charlie gave me my first pair of speedos. "There are times," he said, "when us nudists gotta get dressed!" He insisted I try them on: doing so got me hard. "Ooooh, lover, just you wait!" I was unsure just what the sleeping arrangements were going to be, but assumed we three boys would sleep together in Charlie's bedroom. I rather looked forward to it, for it had been quite a while since the one time we'd gotten it on together. But I was wrong. "Come on, Bobby: you get to sleep with us," Harley said, "the 'cute little love-birds' need their privacy." So Charlie and I repaired once again to his bedroom, and to his bed. I still had the speedos on. His promises at dinner had me ready for anything. "I have a confession to make, lover mine," Charlie said. "Whazzat?" "I know you've sucked off both Tim and Frankie." Oh, Jeezus, I thought: how did he find out? "You do?" "They both told me so when your back was turned. I know its true. I tried to flirt with them at your party: you should have seen the black look on your face!" "Am I that easy to read?" "Lover, never forget I have a lot more experience than you, and I have two daddies who've done it all. I know how alluring a hard cock can be. I know how easy it is to get into lotsa guys' pants: get 'em horny, and they'll usually drop their trousers in a heart- beat. All they want is to get off. Wham bam, thankyou ma'm. Drop a load 'n go." "I'm sorry, Charlie," I was about to cry. "No, Jimmy, don't cry, don't even feel bad. What you and I have what--Tom and Harley have--is something altogether different. We love each other. When we have sex, it goes on for hours and it gets better and better because we use it to express how we feel for each other." "Going to school takes me away from you: I don't like that. I want to be with you all the time." "I know, but there's nothing we can do about it, at least not now. I know you get horny: so do I! But I've got fuck-flicks when you aren't here and I need help getting off. I know there's lots of really cute boys out there: since I don't go to school, I don't see all that many, cute or otherwise! Frankie's one of the cutest guys I've seen in a long time." "You know, Frankie's weird? He always says, 'we shouldn't be doing this', but he goes right ahead and does it." "Its impossible to stop guys from having sex! And its impossible for you to stop me having sex with you, right now!" He tore off my new speedo, and we fell into each other's arms. We smooched and fumbled and worked at getting each other wound up: Charlie really was better at it than I, and he soon had me on edge. "Lover, I want to try something new," he whispered huskily in my ear. "Like?" "You might not like it." "Try me." "I want to drink your piss." "Only if I can drink yours!" "You don't mind?" I wondered if this had come into Charlie's repertoire when he was a foster kid. But, it didn't matter: I had survived the experience at school, done under far less suitable circumstances. And, I would do anything for my Charlie! "Why should I mind?" "Some guys think its icky." With Charlie's lecture about being lovers fresh in my mind, I decided I could be open with him, and told him about being pissed in by the bully at school. "I'd kill him for doing that to you!" Charlie meant it. "I survived. And now that you mention it, I do have to pee." "I won't kill you for peeing in me, though!" We arranged ourselves in the 69 position: it took a while for us to calm down, but presently we were simultaneously pissing in each other. Charlie's was sweet: perhaps it was the icing on the birthday cake. We managed to drink each other in fully without spilling any. Exchanging our fluids this way somehow seemed right. It began yet another night of sex that surpassed any that had gone before. In the wee hours of the morning, we managed to cum simultaneously in the 69 position as well, before wrapping ourselves in each other's arms and falling asleep. Copyright BRUCE BRAMSON 2009 There will be a trilogy. Will Charlie and Jimmy remain lovers, or will they break up? I don't know: the story isn't written yet! -- BB **** There is a zip-file of all my stories available: they are formatted using WordPerfect, and converted to .pdf, and are much easier to read than the ASCII text. Drop me a note at MYOB@brucebramson.com and I'll send the URL where the file can be found.