Date: Sun, 03 Feb 2019 18:25:37 +0000
From: h1ojzg+4dlw6gtfgmy4w@guerrillamail.com
Subject: Robin's Adventures ? Part 11 | G <YF>

We were leaving Jason's house when his mom and Sean returned from
Church. As I thanked her for a fun sleep-over, she peered at my slightly
bruised neck and started to ask, "Is that...never mind," and snook her head
before saying goodbye.

As we rode away, Jason said, "I think she spotted your hickey." He was a
little worried about getting busted, so I came up with an explanation in
case anyone asked: we'd been wrestling, and I'd hit a table by accident. It
was the 70s, and in San Diego, gay boys kept things on the DL.

We didn't lie to Zach when we picked stopped to bring him along. I'd
swallowed his cum the day before, so there was no reason. He still
snickered.

Meeting up with some other friends, we played a few games of
basketball. Then I brought out my soccer ball, and got everyone to pass
around. At that time, soccer was a novelty sport that kids would play for a
month in P.E., then go on to wrestling or handball. I'd lived for almost 12
years in Zurich, and been playing footie since I was a toddler, so I had an
unfair advantage. But I managed to get a 4-on-4 shirts / skins game going,
where I did not hog the ball. I loved checking out my sleek 8th-grade
classmates pouring sweat down their slender teen backs, as their shorts
rode down down their hips, revealing their underpants' waistbands. It gave
me shivers to imagine what they were packing.

Finally, it was time for me to head home. I hugged Zach and then Jason,
furtively giving him a little kiss on the cheek when no one was
looking. Then I rode home, and hit the shower. Pulling on fresh little
briefs and a t-shirt, I read until it was my turn to set the table. As I
passed my sister, she glanced at me, then put out a hand to stop me.

"Dude, is that a hickey?" she asked.

Flustered, I admitted it. She chuckled, and said, "Way to go, tiger!" I
felt the blood rushing to my face, and went on to the kitchen. My mom was
making dinner, as I got out the flat wear. Turning to me, she stopped
chatting, and I felt her hand on my shoulder. "Robin, this blemish here,"
she said, peering at my throat, "Is that a hickey?"

I sighed, "Yes." I was now really embarrassed. Fortunately, mom said, "OK,
we'll treat that after dinner. Put two tablespoons in the freezer." She
finished making dinner, as I finished setting the table, and everyone sat
down to eat. We joked and chatted, and everyone asked about my
sleep-over. Leaving out any of the sex and romance, I told them all about
the fun stuff. Squinting at me, Dad asked, "Um, Robin, there's a bruise on
your neck. Is that a hickey?"

My sister stifled a laugh, my mom smiled and looked down at her plate,
while I rolled my eyes. I was mortified. "Yes, it is," I said in a quiet
voice.

"What's a hickey?" my little brother Chris innocently asked. Could it get
worse?

Thankfully, my dad brushed it aside. "It's a kind of injury. It's not
important." and changed the subject.

After we finished up, my mom had me come into the kitchen. "Remember, you
start the swim league on Tuesday," she said, handing me a little stack of
black nylon. I did remember, and I was stoked. I was pretty competitive,
but in our little suburban beach town, there weren't many team sports for
me to join. My parents convinced me to sign up for a swim program with
junior boys' practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and meets every other
Saturday.

"This is the regulation speedo and the hair cap for the swim team," Mom
said. "Let's make sure they fit."

My family was, and is, completely at ease with being nude, so I had no
problem dropping my small, German briefs, and pulling on the Speedo. It was
bigger than the similar European suits I wore under my wetsuit in the
winter. Mom checked the snugness by running a finger around the waist and
leg bands, while I put on the cap. It was a little loose, until she
adjusted it.

Finding everything satisfactory, she let me pull my undies back on. "Your
clothes are getting a little tight. We need to go shopping when we get to
Munich, this summer." She put a pair of swim goggles on the nylon pile, and
got a frozen spoon out of the freezer.

"Here, hold this on the bruising. When it gets warm, trade it with the
other in the freezer. Keep doing that for a half-hour."

I nodded, while she smiled. "This happens when someone bites or sucks on
your skin too intensely. Make sure Jason isn't so...enthusiastic, next
time." I rolled my eyes and turned to join everyone else in the
den. Following me, my mom mentioned I had a doctor's appointment the next
day, and my dad would pick me up at school.

Chris was lying on the floor, watching some movie, and my dad and Lori were
playing Scrabble.

"Hey dad, it's kind of my turn to have Jason over for a night."

He and my sister looked over at me. "Well, Chris had some concerns."

My little brother rolled over, "I don't want him to think I'm a stupid baby
and laugh at me." My almost-10-year-old little brother was a chronic bed
wetter, and wore diapers at night. I'd finally grown out of the same
problem a couple of years earlier. It ran through the boys in my mother's
family. Along with being late bloomers, we are also very deep sleepers.

"You know him, Chris," I said. "He's a good guy. He'd never laugh at
you. He'll understand."

"I dunno," he murmured.

Lori spoke up. "I have an idea, Chris. What if Jason wasn't able to make
fun of you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if those boys also wore diapers that night?" Giving me a lop-sided
grin, she shrugged. "If they're in them, they have no one to make fun of."

I just sat with an open jaw staring at her. Hickeys. Diapers. The evening
was becoming an endless humiliation.

"Would you?" Chris asked, hopefully.

I sighed. "I'll ask him, Shrimp. But if he says `no,' can we figure
something else out?"

"Maybe. But it'd be better if you guys were like me."

"That's so sweet of you, son," said my mom, before attacking the crossword
puzzle.

Later, Chris and I went upstairs to pee, brush our teeth and get ready for
bed. That meant Chris pulling off his underpants and lying down on the
folder cloth diapers I lay on the rug. As I powdered his uncircumcised
little penis, and tiny scrotum, he looked at me and grinned.

"You are the best big brother anyone could ever have."

"How's that, Shrimp?"

"You'll even get your boyfriend to wear diapers with me."

"We'll see" I smiled at him.

After I pinned him up, and pulled up his plastic pants, he gave me a kiss
and hugged me tightly. "I love you so much."

I got under the covers thinking that I'd have to come through for the
little guy. If we wore diapers for a night, he'd feel a lot better about
himself.

Then I thought about Jason's tennis-toned body. I pictured his slender,
muscular thighs leading to his creamy, white buns. Pulling a pillow under
me, I pressed my rigid little hardness into the soft, fluffy
down. Pretending the pillow was the cavity dividing his firm mounds, I
slowly rocked my undie-clad hips. I pictured wrapping my arms around his
chest, and playing with his hard nipples, while driving my pre-pubescent
3-incher faster into the imaginary butt. "Jason," I lightly moaned, as I
plowed harder, masturbating my bald little pickle through my sheer briefs,
and into a pretend ass. The friction built, and I humped faster, my firm
little bottom a piston driving my smooth boyhood over the brink. I stifled
a groan, as my lust pickle erupted with dry, pulsating fire. And I was soon
fast asleep.

===============================

"Robin! Get up, man!"

"Whaaaah?" I rolled onto my side.

"You forgot to set your alarm, again. You'll be late," said Lori, walking
out of my room.

"Shit." I wouldn't get in any waves before school. I quickly got up, and
woke Chris. We went to the bathroom, where I pulled off his plastic pants
and diaper. He was wet, so after we showered, I helped him smear some rash
cream on his bum, and crotch. As I rubbed it in, he started to get
aroused. My dick responded.

"You've got a boner," Chris observed, and reached out to grasp the little
tube pressing up toward my stomach.

"Hey, mind your own penis. And go get dressed."


=================================

I met Jason at lunch. "Hey, man. Can we talk? Alone?" I asked quietly.

"Sure, let's go." We walked away from the courtyard crowded with kids, down
a walkway between vacant classrooms. We stopped and sat, leaning against a
wall while opening our lunch bags.

"What's up, Robin?"

"OK, here's the thing." I started. "I really want you to spend the night at
my house. But there's a problem with my brother. You know how boys in my
mother's family are late developers?" He nodded, biting into a
sandwich. "And you know how heavy I sleep?"

He almost choked as he swallowed. "Yeah, I noticed."

"You have to swear not to tell anyone what I'm going to tell
you. Nobody. Do you swear?"

"Of course."

Slowly, I told him that this meant that most of the boys in my mother's
family were bed-wetters. That I hadn't stopped until I was around Chris'
age, and that he was taking a little longer. His eyes grew wide. Then I
told him that meant we had to wear diapers until we grew out of the
problem.

"You wore diapers? Chris wears them?"

"Only at night. But because he does, he's afraid you'll laugh at him. I
know you won't, but he's really embarrassed. So Lori had an idea." I told
him her thoughts, and asked him if he would help my brother feel more
comfortable by wearing diapers during the sleep-over, as well.

"I know that's probably asking too much. But he feels really shitty about
himself anyway. So we could make him feel a little more normal, if we
looked a little ridiculous."

Jason looked away, and thought for moment. "I guess, if that's what it
takes," he grudgingly responded. Later, I found out he didn't want to
appear too eager.

"We still have 20 minutes," Jason said, giving me a mischievous
smile. "Nobody's gone in or come out of that boys' room."

In seconds, we'd wolfed down our sandwiches, and raced into one of the
empty stalls. We briefly kissing and groping, before I whispered, "Stand up
on the toilet, so if anyone comes in, they'll only see my feet."

Giving me another kiss, he climbed up, and I was face-level with a rigidly
bulging Levi's zipper. Firmly clasping his trouser snake, I rubbed up and
down, feeling its throbbing hardness cloaked in layers of dense cotton. He
gasped lightly, as I rubbed him a bit harder. Unfastening his belt and
jeans, I lowered his zipper to expose a brilliant white cotton triangle of
underpants.

Reaching into his pants, I ran my hand down his fat, quivering, tube, and
cupped his stout scrotum through his well-filled brief pouch. Jason was
eager and hungry for my touch; the soft front panel of his
Fruit-of-the-Looms were damp with pre-cum. I palmed up and down his
pulsating boyhood. Wrapping my fingers around his cloth-wrapped love
rocket, I rubbed him until he was panting.

I pulled his Levis down below his undies, for better access to the
pulsating prong pressing out against his snug briefs. Lowering the
blue-and-gold striped waistband down, I hooked it under the full, smooth,
hairless, rosy sack. Tracing a finger up and down his central scrotal
ridge, I used the thumb and two fingers of my other hand to grasp his
thrumming stalk. He filled both of his hands with my long, blond hair, and
gently pulled me toward his torso. Dragging my tongue from the base of his
turgidity to the tip, I drank in his warm, slimy goo.

He shuddered as I ran my tongue up and down his rigid flesh pump, while
gently massaging his plump, quaking boy bag. I licked around and around his
oozing nozzle, lapping in the sweet and salty tang of his adolescent
ardor. I slurped and massaged as he heaved harder, and I clamped my lips
around the ridge of his vibrating, circumcised head. Flicking my tongue
facross the tip, I stroked his stem, and coddled his straining grapes. Then
I firmly sealed my my sucking lips around his angry knob, while ferociously
pounding his stalk with all my fingers. His hardness strained. His panting
grew hoarser, and he impaled my little mouth. His hairless sack tightened,
and I felt the first jet of his delicious plasma burst across the back of
my mouth. This time, I was prepared, and closed off my airway before I
could choke.

Holding my breath, I stroked him hard and fast, and he filled my mouth with
Jason Juice. I couldn't hold it all, and some spilled down my lips. But as
his explosive climax slowed and finished, I pulled off and swallowed his
tasty succulence. Gently sucking and stroking, I milked him dry, and he
sighed and leaned down to kiss me full on the lips.

"You taste great, Sperm Breath," he whispered.

"Self-flattery is gross," I replied, and he chuckled.

We kissed again, and he fasted his clothes. Dropping down to the tiles, he
helped me climb up onto the toilet, and didn't waste time unzipping my
trousers, which fell to my knees. Jason brushed his hands up and down my
slender little legs, inside and outside, and around my hard, skinny little
buns. Squeezing my butt, Jason drew his lips across the quivering tent
springing from my small navy-blue and white striped underpants. I sighed as
I felt warm breath through the thin, stretchy cotton, and fingers gently
rolling my tightening nut sack.

Just then, the public address crackled. "Robin Sanford to the Principal's
Office. Robin Sanford, Principal."

"Dammit!" I hissed. "Doctor's appointment." Jason made a mock sad face as
he readjusted my throbber, and hitched up my trousers. There wasn't much a
bulge, but I was thankful for my Hawaiian shirt tails covering my crotch. I
rinsed out my mouth before we both left the boy's room.

"Later, man."

"Later," I said, slapping him skin before heading to the Office.

=============================================

My dad picked me up, and as we drove to the pediatrician, he said, "We
don't have to tell Dr. Cavenaugh anything about you and Jason, if you don't
want. You can just tell him that you black out when...orgasm happens."

Reddening, I looked at my feet and nodded. "OK." I knew this was going to
be awful.

In the exam room, my dad took a chair, while I stripped down to socks and
underwear. The nurse took my height and weight and blood pressur, and left
as the doctor came in. He check my breathing, heart, and reflexes before he
pulled down my underpants to examine my genitals and check for a hernia. My
poor little penis was super sensitive from Jason's teasing less than half
an hour earlier. So when Dr. Cavenaugh briefly held it, my prick lurched
into life. I felt blood rushing to my face, as well, but both the doctor
and my father pretended not to notice, and soon my briefs were back up, and
I was pulling on my clothes.

"Well, Robin. You seem fit and healthy. You've gained 5 pounds and grown
and inch since I saw you six months ago. Of course, you're a little behind
in physical development, but you know that, I'm sure."

"You're early for a check-up," he continued. "What seems to be the
problem?"

I hemmed and hawed and fumbled around, until my father broke in. "Robin has
a problem with orgasm."

Bright red again, I murmured, "yeah."

"You are having trouble reaching an orgasm?" The doctor peered over his
clip-board.

"No!" I stammered. This was mortifying.

"Are you worried that you are not yet ejaculating?"

"No..no..It's..uh," and I finally managed to tell him how I frequently
passed out when climaxing.

He had a lot of questions. What time of day? When had I last eaten? Was it
after prolonged stimulation? Did I hold my breath during orgasm?

Thinking for a moment, he smiled. "Robin the very good news is that your
sexual sensitivity is enviable. But you have slightly low blood pressure,
and you don't carry much weight. As you get older, you might find yourself
getting occasionally dizzy getting out of chairs. Right now, you just have
to make sure you eat 3 meals a day, some fruit in the afternoon, and a
snack at night if you'll be up late."

"This seems to happen when you've gone without food, after a long period of
stimulation, when you hold your breath. Try to remember to breath." As it
turned out, I was auto-erotically asphyxiating myself by edging and choking
off my screams. And as a I was, and am, a deep sleeper, this meant instant
power-nap.

As we were about to leave, the doctor handed me a folded brochure. "Robin,
I noticed a little bruising. On your neck. Please read this before you
become sexually active with others." Opening it later, I found information
about STDs, pregnancy and birth control. There was condom, too. At the
time, I didn't think much of it applied to me. How stupid.

As we got to the car, my dad looked at his watch, and turned to me. "Seems
you'll be a little late for class. Want to go for ice cream, instead?"

Of course I was stoked to blow off Music Class to hang with dad at Basken
Robbins.

===================================

That night, over dinner, I told Chris, "Jason doesn't think wearing diapers
is a big deal. He's OK with it."

He grinned broadly, "He's so cool!"

My parents agreed to have Jason stay over the following Saturday, and my
sister winked at me. Later, I thanked her for helping me win Chris over.

Later, after I'd diapered Chris for the night, brushed my teeth and climbed
into bed, I could picture lunch recess in the bathroom stall. As I stroked
the outside of tight little undies, I remembered Jason's fingers running up
and down my cloth-trapped boy tube. Rigidly pressing into my hand, my
little love wand craved heat and friction, as I stroked and day-dreamed
about my boyfriend delicately teasing me with a thumb and two fingers, then
clutching harder. With his other imaginary hand, he cupped and caressed my
tender little nuggets hugging between my slender legs.

I tweaked one of my nipples, thinking of Jason's full lips on my chest, and
shoved my hand into my briefs. Grasping my 3 inch hardness, I couldn't
prolong my self-torture any further. Stroking my lanky little shaft with
two fingers and a thumb, I spread my legs wide under the covers. My second
hand dropped into my underpants, to knead and roll my tender little
testicles, and press a finger back from my taint to my flexing boyhole.

My room filled with the rhythmic sound of ruffling bedding, as I pounded my
self harder and faster. Imagining Jason's hands in my undies, I rubbed for
mere minutes before dry fire detonated through my penis, spreading through
my body. Pulse after joyous pulse, and I stifled a groan. Moments later, I
was deeply asleep.

================================

After school the next day, I biked to the public pools center. I met the
coach, and he assigned me a locker in one section set aside for the youth
league. A lot of elderly men were changing elsewhere, and I guess they
didn't appreciate the noise.

Probably 100 other boys were, ranging from 10 - 14 years old. Some I'd seen
at my school, but most came from other junior highs, elementary schools and
private schools.

The last of the adults left the Olympic racing pools, and we jumped
in. Some of the lanes had to double up, as we started a 40 lap warmup. 40!
I barely got though it. Though I had good upper and core strength from
surfing, my shoulders and legs were on fire before we even got to the race
practice. Taking a breather between sprints, I held onto the side to watch
the boys at the diving pool. They looked so rad, twisting and turning, all
smooth wet muscles and slippery skin. I found myself staring at one slender
boy with a perky nose, and round bubble butt.

Finally we finished practice, and I was beat. Hitting the showers, I
spotted the diver at the far end, and I walked over to use a nozzle next to
his.

"Hey," I said. "I saw you diving today. You looked totally boss."

He smiled shyly at me. He had lanky black hair falling below his jaw,
piercingly blue eyes, and a dusting of freckles on the bridge of his
nose. About my height, he was very slender, but with a firm, athletic
build.

"Thanks. But I'm not that great. Just started this year."

"Really? You learned how to do all those flips this year?"

"Yeah, but I'm not doing anything complicated. And I used to do
gymnastics."

"I used to do gymnastics!"

"You should think about trying it out."

"Cool, man. My name's Robin."

"Nice meeting you, Robin," he replied. I noticed his eyes running down my
body, a slight smile on his pert lips. "I'm Mark."

Like all the other boys, he pulled off his black speedo. I couldn't stop
watching, and I think he knew it. As he stepped out his tight bathing suit,
and stood up, he had a boner. He looked at me looking at his dick, shrugged
with a goofy smile.

"Ooops. It does that a lot," he giggled.

His circumcised penis was about 4 inches, and twice as thick as mine. Like
me, he was completely hairless, and his slightly puffy scrotum hugged the
arch between his legs.

I pulled down my Speedo and stepped out. My rigid three incher threw a
Hallelujah towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, me too," I giggled.

We soaped off and rinsed our suits while we chatted. Mark was a year
younger, in seventh-grade, and went to St. Joseph's Academy, a private
school in our town. He also surfed, but at a beach break to the north where
he lived. We made vague plans to hit the waves together some time, as we
walked toward the towel cage with our wadded up Speedos held in front of
our hard little cocks.

I slowly walked to my locker, willing my penis to be quiet. And when it was
finally only a semi, I started dressing. Just then, Mark came up beside me.

"Dude, you are so slow."

I laughed. "Didn't know it was a race."

He sat and waited for me to get dressed. I noticed him checking out my
tight little navy blue, low-rise briefs. As I pulled on my trousers, he
smiled and said, "Nice undies."

"Thanks, I guess. I get a lot of my clothes in Germany," I said before
telling him why, and about my family. We walked out together, to the bike
rack.

"Hasta luego, Robin."

"See you Thursday, Mark."

====================

Biking uphill to my house was tough. I was really sore in my shoulders and
hips, and I was exhausted by the time I climbed the stairs to my
room. Stripping down to t-shirt, underpants and tube socks, I finished my
homework in time just before dinner.

At the table, I talked about my first day at the swim league. It was plain
I was totally beat. As we cleaned up after dinner, mom noticed my stiff
movements, and suggested that when the dishes were done, I go upstairs and
soak in the tub. It was a great idea. Though we mostly took showers. the
bathroom my siblings and I shared had a jacuzzi bathtub - a kind of indoor
hot tub.

So, sometime later, I filled it with hot, steaming water. My mom stepped
into the bathroom, reached onto a shelf and pulled out epsom salts. "This
will help with the aches," she said as she poured in a cup. She flicked a
switch, and the water roared to life. I pulled off my clothes, and she
helped me into the tub. "That's my boy. Just lay back, and relax for a
while."

She closed the door, and left me to drift in the foam. Sometime later, my
little brother Chris came in. After taking a leak, he looked at the
bubbling jacuzzi and asked if he could get in. It was fine by me, so he
stripped off his little underpants, t-shirt and socks, and hopped in.

The tub was big enough for at least two adults. But rather than take the
other end, Chris sat between my legs, with his back to me, and lay back
with his head on my chest. I loved the slippery, rubbery sensation of wet
boy against boy, and draped my arms around his chest.

"Mmmmm...nice," I said.

"Mmmmhhmmm."

"Hey Chris, there was a tropical storm off Hawaii. Swells should be hitting
later this week. Wanna go surfing with me on Saturday?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Too cold."

"You're a wimp."

"You're obsessed."

"Obsessed?" I repeated. "Quite a word. Use it in a sentence."

"The grom is obsessed with getting me to freeze my ass off."

I laughed. I figured my sister and he wouldn't be hitting the waves until
May, at least. Chris wasn't bothered by cold water. It's the Pacific, for
fuck's sake. He thought the ocean at dawn was creepy. And my big sister
just liked her sleep. But the early bird catches the double over-heads.

I leaned down and kissed the top of his head. His hair smelled kind of
greasy.

"Shrimp, can I wash your hair?"

He nodded and we both sat up. I told him to dunk his head, while I poured a
generous amount of shampoo into my hands. Thoroughly and methodically, I
scrubbed his scalp and built a huge lather around his head. He sighed,
enjoying the massage. Just then, my mom knocked on the door and came in.

Looking disapproving at my brother, she gently scolded him. "I told you not
to bother your brother, Chris."

"It's OK, mom," I said. "I'm feeling a whole lot looser, by the way."

"That's good! Stay in as long as you want. But get out slowly. You might
get dizzy. Also, use some some moisturizer after you get dry." She pulled
out some Lubriderm.

"Yes mom," I groaned. Sometimes she over-mothered.

She smiled. "Your father and I are going to bed. Chris, your bedtime is in
30 minutes." Then she kissed us goodnight.

My dad came in a few minutes later, as I lathered Chris for a second
time. He took one look and grinned. "This is too adorable," and he quickly
left. Returning a minute later with a camera, he took a picture I have on
my wall today. Grinning widely toward the camera, our skinny chests are
barely out of the deep, bubbling water, and my hands are full of my
brother's sudsy head.

Dad kissed us both on the forehead, and closed the door. A while later, I
finished washing and conditioning Chris' blond mop, and we both lay back in
peace, enjoying the froth. My arms were once again wrapped around his
smaller chest, protective and loving. Absently I stroked his tummy, and my
hand drifted to his boyhood. He was hard, and he sighed as I traced a
finger along the length of uncut little prong.

My relatively bigger prepubescence grew into diamond hardness, and I
shifted so it pointed toward my stomach. Chris giggled. "Robby's got a
boner," he teasingly whispered. Lightly grasping his tender tube, I
whispered back, "So does Chrissy."

Slowly, with the thumb and forefinger from one hand, I pulled his foreskin
back and forth over his quivering little cap. With my other arm, I pulled
him further up my lap, so my swollen meat stick rested between his soft
little buns.

"I like your wiener there. It feels good."

"Mmmmhhhmmm."

Very delicately, I rubbed a finger around his quivering glans, and he
gasped. As my hips began rocking, and my trembling bone slid back and forth
through Chris' diminutive divide, I resumed stroking his pulsating passion
pole. His pelvis was now thrusting in time with my burnishing grip. I held
him hard and ground faster, and the muscles in his little bottom clenched
and unclenched around my gliding lust gun. He was panting, then he started
to moan. Gently, I pushed a finger from my other hand into his mouth.

"Shhhhhh." I whispered. "Secret Boy's Club, OK?"

He nodded, then clamped around my finger. "Ouch. Don't bite!" I hissed.

"Sorry," he hoarsely whispered.

I put my forefinger back to his lips, and instinctively, he sucked on it.

I rubbed his little meat stick furiously, and humped his sweet little
behind. Suddenly, his jaw dropped and he inhaled hard, and I held his penis
in my palm. Spasming, he exhaled hard, a silent shout without vocal
chords. Thrusting furiously, he fucked my hand, while his hips masturbated
me with his delicious young ass.

Then I could take no more. The fury burst out, hot and desperate, and my
13-year-old joy stick pulsated with fire. As it spread across my belly, my
back arched, I saw the stars warning me of the approaching void.

A little time later, I regained my senses. Water had bubbled over my chin,
into my mouth, and I coughed myself awake. Chris was gently napping on my
chest. I ran my fingers along his sleek, wet body, and wondering how I was
going to tell my dad that Chris shared my condition.  "Come on, buddy. Wake
up," I quietly urged. Drowsily he lifted his head. "I was asleep!"

I chuckled. "You sure were, Shrimp. Let's get out and get ready for bed."

Remembering my mom's warning, I slowly rose, and did feel a little light
headed. Pulling my brother up, I urged him to move cautiously as well. Then
I turned off and drained the tub, while Chris dried himself, pissed, and
brushed his teeth. I followed suit, and we both grabbed our meager clothes
before walking down the hall to my brother's room. Lori stopped us in the
hall to give Chris a kiss goodnight. As she passed me going toward the
bathroom, I didn't see her windmilling arm until too late, when she smacked
my naked butt soundly.

"Hey!" I cried, more indignant that in pain.

She laughed. "Gotta keep the blood flowing, buddy." Much later, I figured
out she'd figured out the secrets of brothers. As had my parents.

In his room, I diapered Chris for the night. He pulled on a clean t-shirt,
and got into bed, and I leaned down to kiss him goodnight. "Thank you for
being the best big brother in the world," he said.

"Thank you for being the best little brother in the world, Shrimp."

As I was walking back toward my room, Lori came out of the bathroom, and
leaned down to kiss me good night. Then as we passed, I missed that
windmill arm again, before it smacked my other naked butt cheek.

"Ouch!"

"Love you, Robin," she called over her shoulder as she went into her room.

==================================

The weekend finally came, and I got up early Saturday, for gnarly, huge
sets. Several times, I'd eaten it con mucho gusto, and tumbled through the
Pacific's washing machine. It was terrifying and awesome. I guess word must
have spread to Lori, because when I got home, she and her board were
gone. Sometimes, even teenagers are motivated.

After showering, I dressed in a Hang 10 t-shirt, and adidas shorts, which
were typically very small and very tight in the 70s. After grabbing a
sandwich, I biked down to the rec center to meet Jason. He was playing the
last match of the day, and I was enthralled, gazing at his sleek, slender
athleticism. I tried not to stare at his firm round buns, propelling him
across the court.

By the time he finished winning for the third time that day, my dick was
engorged, and I had to furtively readjust before getting up to wave. He
waved back, and toweled off his sopping wet hair, face and neck. After
gathering his stuff, he walked off court, and I punched him in the arm. In
the 70s, this was a boy's public display of affection.

"Man! That was awesome!"

"Thanks, dude! The last match was fucking close."

We walked over to the basketball courts, where a couple of friends were
playing H.O.R.S.E. Soon, we were playing two-on-two, which is kind of
lame. Still we had fun. Then some other guys we knew joined in. Eventually,
it was time for Jason and me to leave, and we biked up the hill to my
place. Sweating and out of breath, we put out bikes away, and entered the
kitchen. I got us some water and graham crackers and bananas, and we
munched at the counter. We were ravenous young teens. We would have
probably eaten everything in the fridge if my sister hadn't walked in.

"Hey Lori," we both chimed out.

"Hey guys. We're eating early, so don't pig out, OK?" We mumbled "Ok," as
she got an orange and some water. Before leaving to practice guitar in her
room, she turned and added, "Also? Take a shower before dinner. You guys
reek."

We both cracked up, and I raised an armpit at her. She rolled her
eyes. "Boys are disgusting."

Jason smiled and said, "Are we disgusting?"

"I don't know," I said. "Let's do the smell test."

And sure enough, we were sniffing each others' pits, which was gross and
hilarious.

I grabbed Jason's backpack, and he hoisted his tennis bag, and we went
upstairs to my room.

"So, you want to go swimming?" I asked.

"Yeah! I brought a swim suit, but I don't need one, right?" He looked over
sheepishly.

"No, stupid. Let's get going."

Within seconds, we were both naked. I loved his slender, muscular boy
chassis, but it was soon wrapped in a towel. I sighed at his American
modesty, and led him outside. This time, I obeyed the house rule, and we
both took quick use of the outdoor shower by the pump house, before jumping
in.

Playing idiotic games, we splashed around for a couple of hours. I wish I
had that energy today. Eventually, though, my mom came out to say hello to
Jason. Extremely self-consciously, he got out of the pool to politely greet
her, with a hand shielding his junk. My mom pretended to not notice his
embarrassment, and kissed him on each cheek, before telling us both dinner
was on in 30 minutes.

The sun was setting as we got out, dried off, and went up to my room to
change. I pulled on a blue-and-white FC Zurich jersey, a pair of bright
red, low-rise briefs, and tube socks. Jason was still amazed that my family
preferred being half-naked. "Clothes are annoying," I explained again. "But
mom won't let us use the furniture totally naked. She says it's
unsanitary." Reluctantly, he followed my lead, and pulled on a Charger's
jersey, a pair of snowy-white Fruit-of-the-Looms, and socks. The long
shirts dropped half-way over our thighs, and were practically dresses.

"See? Mas comfy!" I grinned, and we went down to dinner. My family really
liked Jason, and as we joked and laughed, was part of the family. Mom and
dad were going to a party, and they left before dessert. We cleared and
washed the dishes, and Lori got out a pie my folks bought for the occasion.

Before cutting the pie, she turned. "Before we settle in, why don't you
guys get ready for the night?" Her eyebrow lifted as she looked at me.

"OK. We'll be back in a few minutes." Calling to Chris, I lead both boys
upstairs.  My brother didn't want any pie, so he brushed his teeth. Meeting
us in his room, he yanked off his underpants and threw them into the
hamper. I got out cloth diapers and supplies. Jason was obviously nervous,
so I was totally clinical. Laying out the towel, I showed him how one
diaper was folded inside another, for extra padding. Then Chris lay down,
with his butt in place. Jason stared at my brother's little fingerling like
it was the first dick he'd ever seen.

"You're uncircumcised!" Chris giggled and nodded.

"That's...neat. Can I...feel your foreskin?"

Chris said that would be fine, but I quickly interjected. "You can skin it
back. But you have to be gentle."

Jason reached down, and lightly grasped my brother's tiny tip between thumb
and forefinger. Afraid of hurting Chris, he slowly pulled the hood back. At
the same time, the little purple helmet lurched, and Chris gasped. Smiling
in delight, Jason gently moved the foreskin back and forth a few times, and
Chris' penis swelled to its proud 2 inches.

"Cool," Jason said.

My brother moaned a little. "Can you do that some more?"

I chuckled, but told him "no." Chris pouted, while I powdered his junk,
pinned him up, and helped him into plastic pants. I turned to Jason. "Your
turn, man."

He looked a little hesitant, but got up, slightly turned away from us and
pulled down his briefs, as I folded diapers on the towel. He tried to keep
his jersey over his groin as he lay down, but it was no use camouflaging
his raging hard on.

I knew he was excruciatingly embarrassed, so I put a shush-finger over
Chris' lips, and said in a matter-of-fact voice, "OK, this'll just take a
second, " and pulled the shirt bottom up, over the fat, vibrating
sausage. Just as I was powdering Jason's delicious loins, my little brother
couldn't help but blurt, "You've got hair! Can I feel it?"

I glared at Chris, and he withered a little. But Jason had committed. In a
husky voice, he whispered, "Um, yeah, OK." My little brother ran his
fingers through the sparse silky ring at the base of my boyfriend's
quivering splendor. Jason shivered, and got goose bumps. Before I could
stop him, Chris ran his hand down the length of Jason's lust gun.

"Stop!" I commanded Chris, who jerked his hand away.

"I'm sorry," he quietly said, looking down.

"It's OK," Jason reassured Chris. "I, uh, liked it."

Changing the subject, I quickly pointed out we had pie to eat. And I
quickly pinned Jason up. Standing, he pulled on plastic pants, then sat
down next to Chris, as I folded the final diapers. Pulling off my own
underpants, I sat down in position and lay back, directing Jason to powder
my crotch. I pulled up the folds, and talked Jason through pinning
everything together. I got up and put everything away, tossing Jason's and
my underpants through my bedroom door before returning.

"You're not wearing plastic pants?" Jason asked.

"Hell no. Those things are noisy and uncomfortable, and I'm not planning on
peeing myself tonite."

"I think they're...OK?" He looked bashful, so I shrugged.

When we entered the den, Lori looked up from the TV, and burst into some
weird girl squeal.

"Oh my God! You guys look so cuuuuuuuuuute!! Behind the other boys, I
glared at her, and gave her a "what-the-fuck?" look, and she recovered her
composure. "Sorry. It's just that you three are really handsome men."

Years later, I realized Jason was in Platonic love with my sister. He
wasn't into girls, and was actually grossed out by pussy, but he was
infatuated with Lori. So when she pulled out her Instamatic camera, he was
fine with a couple of photos she swore were only for her scrapbook. Jason
and I pulled off our jerseys, and wrapped our hands around each others'
waists, while Chris leaned back with his head against our chests, smiling
with deep contentment. Later, she took a couple of candid shots of the
three of us curled up on the couch, with little brother nodding off.

My parents came home, and quietly said goodnight, without commenting on how
Jason and I were dressed. Eventually, Lori kissed us goodnight, picked up
Chris, and headed upstairs. Lying along the couch, I cradled my gorgeous
boyfriend between my legs and arms, occasionally lightly kissing his ears
and smelling his gleaming, long light brown hair. We were watching some
late night monster movie, and at some point, Jason rolled onto his side to
look into my eyes.

"This is really nice, Robin. I mean, REALLY nice."

Squeezing him, I agreed.

"Your family - you guys really love each other. It's not like a lot of
families. Not like my family." He quietly told me that though his mom was
great, and he got along with his brothers, he didn't feel the same
affection my family obviously had. And then he dropped the bomb. His dad
had been cheating on his mom for at least a year, and they were getting
divorced.

"I'm really sorry, man." I stroked his hair, and kissed his nose.

There were tears in his eyes, and he sniffled a little. "I'm not. He's a
dick. You saw the OK side. But he's the reason I don't have a life. He
wanted to be a tennis star, so he pushed me and my brothers to live out his
dreams. Neil had enough, and torched his racquets in the fireplace one
night. They got into a huge fist fight. It was the last time he laid on
hand on Neil or tried to boss him around."

"Was he...violent with you?"

Jason quietly sobbed for a minute, and nodded. "He used to spank the fuck
out of Sean and me. He stopped maybe a year ago. Same time as he started
fucking someone at work."

He cried a little bit more, while I kissed his forehead, and stroked his
head. I reached for tissue to wipe away his tears, and he blew his
nose. "Do you think I'm being a big baby?" he asked.

"No - God no, Jase. You deserve a great dad, and you've never had one."

"I guess that's why I love this. I feel...safe. Protected. I wish I'd been
loved like this always."

He was quiet for a minute, then looked in my eyes. "Can I ask you for a
special secret favor?"

Always, I told him, and rubbed my nose against his.

"Can I be your little baby tonite?"

I smiled. "You can be my little baby anytime you want." He smiled and
curled into my arms and lap. Given that he was bigger than me, I couldn't
imagine him as a literal infant. But he craved that sense of
security. Rubbing his tummy, I whispered, "If little Jasie has to go, he
should jog ahead and pee. But no poohing." He giggled, and looked up into
my eyes. Those liquid pools of grey green, lined with red from weeping
betrayed a helplessness which I wanted to defend like a superhero.

Leaning in for a tender kiss, I lightly pressed my lips to his, and we
caressed each other mouth to mouth. I snaked my hand into his plastic
pants, and lightly ran my finger around the tip of the tent swelling his
diaper. Pulling back a little, he raised his eyes in an unasked question. I
smiled and nodded. Soon, I felt a hot dampness coursing through the cotton,
and Jason sighed, dipping his head to my chest. "Good baby boy," I
whispered. "Just let it go." I squeezed his growing hardness through the
soft, soggy mess, and motioned him up. Turning off the TV, I turned off the
lights and lead him upstairs.

All the lights were off behind the bedroom doors as we went down the hall
to my shared bathroom. I closed the door, put down the changing mat, and
Jason lay down on his back.

"Does my little boy need to pee any more?"

He nodded, and smiled a little, then seemed to concentrate for a
moment. When he was finished, I pulled off his plastic pants, rinsed them
out, and hung them to dry on a line set in the closet. Then I unpinned his
throughly soaked, cotton diaper, releasing his fat, needy love stick. After
I pulled out and binned the wet swaddling, I took a warm wet wash cloth and
pushed his knees to his chest. I gently scrubbed his crotch and his bum,
and carefully cleaned his round, smooth nuts, and along his beating
penis. I warmed up some baby oil in my hands, and rubbed around his pubic
mound, slicking his quivering meat, his pulling bag, into the intersection
of thighs and torso, then kneaded it into his muscular globes. How I wanted
to linger on that hot, creamy ass, but quickly finished slicking his bun
valley, before pinning him into fresh diapers. Seeing how much he let loose
earlier, I had folded in extra padding, and got him into fresh plastic
pants.

While he brushed his teeth, I worked my diaper down below my nuts, and
pushed down my quivering little hardness. It took a while, but I peed into
the bowl, before washing my hands and brushing my teeth. Putting everything
in order, I lead Jason into my room and shut the door. Pulling him into my
arms, I hugged him tightly, then pulled his jersey off. He pulled mine off
as well, and I wrapped my arms around his waste.

"Are you ready for bed, baby boy?"

"Yeah, Robin. Just hold onto me for a while."

I shut off the lights, and we climbed under the duvet. Jason lay on his
back, and I curled around him, with on leg hooked over his slender
thigh. Snaking one arm under his smooth back, I hugged his chest with the
other, and we snuggled for a long time, quietly talking about nothing. It
was tender and wonderful.

Stroking his chest, I could feel his nipples harden, and I kissed his
collar bone through a curtain of long, healthy hair. Slowly, I rubbed his
circles around his toned abs, then climbed a little further to kiss him
gently on the cheek. With my thigh draped across his tummy, I could feel
his hardness vaguely pulsating into my calve, through layers of cotton and
plastic.

Jason turned to kiss my lips, and moaned into my mouth as I gently pressed
my leg into his crotch, rubbing it up and down. Smiling, I whispered,
"You're safe here, Jase. You're my little boy."

"Thank you Robin," he sighed.

Curling down, I rested my head on his chest, and slid my hand into his
plastic pants. His willing helplessness charged the air, as I firmly
grasped the quilted boy tube and rubbed the length with my whole
hand. Jason's hips moved in time, pressing his swaddled bone into my
hand. We were both breathing harder, and my hips rocked my diaper-trapped
dick against his sleek, solid stomach. I felt Jason's hand slip between his
torso and my crotch, to clamp around my cloth-cloaked tool, as I humped and
stroked harder.

We were both close, and when I felt Jason reach into my diaper to stroke my
little boyhood, I squeezed his diapered treasure harder.  Suddenly stifling
a moan, Jason arched his back, and exploded. I clutched his the cloth-bound
love gun, as he thrust again and again into my hand, and it sent me over
the edge.

I choked off off a scream, as the itchy, fiery tingle detonated, and dry
desperate love blasted through my penis, out my loins and across my
spasming body. Stars pulsed and exploded, before I dropped into night.

Waking up later to Jason's gentle snoring, I found found him curled around
me, his face buried in my long, blond hair, one of his arms draped over my
hip, and his hand inside my diaper. I sighed, and fell back into a deep,
contented sleep.