Date: Sat, 09 Feb 2019 16:35:56 +0000
From: h4znk6+1mszsi3u85jks@guerrillamail.com
Subject: Robin's Adventures ? Part 13 | G <YF>

Jason's first sleep-over at my house was epic. My 8th-grade boyfriend
opened up secret vulnerabilities to me, and we'd had hot and tender sex
behind closed doors. Over dinner on Sunday, after Jason left, my family
were his fan club, and very happy for me. Though it was the 70s in San
Diego, and gay boys had to keep their relationships discrete, my parents
were stoked I had a special boy in my life. They were medical scientists,
and kind of ahead of their time. But, also, my mom was German, we'd lived
for most of my life in Switzerland, and Europeans tend to be more pragmatic
about sexuality.

Anyway, after dawn patrol surfing the next day, I got my little brother up,
and both of us ready for school. I biked to my junior high itching and
stinging from the major sunburn I'd gotten with Jason while tanning the day
before. We'd worn our briefs to protect our bits, which left white
triangles advertising our asses and junk. Mockery was the least of my
issues in the gym after P.E. Towel snapping was the worst.

At lunch, Jason told me that because his dad - "The Dick" - had been kicked
out of the house, he didn't have to hit tennis practice 6 days a week. "I'm
not even seeded. So I'm taking a couple of days off a week."

I was still a little sore the next afternoon when I got to the pool center
swim league workouts. My black speedo was larger than my small German
undies, and the elastic bit into my sunburn, making my butt cheeks itch by
the final whistle. Going to the back of the showers, I met up with my new
friend Mark, who was on the diving team. About my size, he was willowy, yet
slightly muscular. His sparkling eyes, and soft, pretty features were
draped by wet black hair streaming just below his jaw.

Mark had already taken off his Speedo, and was washing the chlorine from
his creamy body when I got there.

"Hey Robin!" He smiled at me, then shyly bit his lip.

"Hi, Mark!" I smiled back, glancing down at the 7th-grader's hairless
crotch, and flaccid penis. Though a year younger than me, his little hose
was twice as thick as mine, and maybe a half-inch longer. His scrotum was
puffier, too. Just as I glanced back up, his little wand quivered.

We chatted about school and practice. I pulled down my own Speedo to rinse
it out. I noticed him staring at the white mask of unburnt skin,
contrasting with my red body, and the slender semi-hardness it
framed. Within seconds, we were both rigid, and giggling. For some reason,
erections were not as big a deal with the junior swim league. Maybe wearing
a Speedo for hours just made everything else less awkward.

That night, after getting into bed, I couldn't help but think about Mark,
putting my hands into my tight little briefs, pounding my hairless meat
furiously, coming hard and dry. The next day, I felt guilty, like I'd bee
cheating on Jason. At lunch, I made sure to remind him we were going to
hang out that afternoon.

After school, we biked to my house, which we'd have to ourselves for at an
hour or two. Racing to my room, we were tornados of unspooling
clothes. Then we grabbed towels and jumped into the backyard pool.

We didn't spend anytime playing games. Kissing, first lightly, then more
urgently, we let our hands tickle and caress. Our slippery, rubbery flesh
glided and pressed, and clutched and rubbed. Is there anything sexier than
wet skin sliding against wet skin?

Jason cradled my head in the crook of his graceful, sinewy arm, and traced
his lips along mine. I rubbed my nose with his, before our tongues met to
lightly touch. Clutching Jason by his wet hair, I pulled him into me for a
deep, kiss, our tongues wrestling from his mouth, to mine, and back.

With both hands, he squeezed my little butt cheeks like a pair of
grapefruit, and pulled my groin to his. Our naked flesh met, and I wrapped
my lithe legs around his hips. His thick, 5-inch diamond hardness throbbed
against my 3-inch, sylphic pole. My arms were wrapped tightly around
Jason's slender, muscular chest, and our hips ground against each
other. Our quivering penises slid against and beside each other in rising
fury in the swirling water.

I felt one of Jason's fingers pressing around my clenching ring, then
slowly entering me. I gasped, then moaned into his mouth, as we thrust
harder, and our cocks strained with desperation. The water squelched and
splashed between our chests. We were panting, and I felt my little walnut
sized scrotum quivering tightly.

Jason suddenly held me fast. "Hold it" he whispered to the side of my
face. "We shouldn't cum in the pool."

"Why?" I was baffled, as we released each other.

"Getting jizz out of the water is a fucking nightmare. Trust me." He
laughed and shrugged. Between the two of us, Jason was the only one who
shoot back then, but I was glad he said "we."

Leading him to a part of the shallow end hidden from the house by an orange
tree, I asked Jason to sit on the pool edge. He got up, with his calves
dangling in the water. Gently, he spread his sunburnt thighs, and I stood
in the water, between his knees. Smiling into his liquid grey-green eyes, I
returned my gaze to the fat pink sausage, drumming his waist. His full,
round, smooth scrotum twitched with every pulse.

Caressing his thigh with one hand, I tenderly grasped him by the other,
just above the few hairs surrounding his pulsating stalk. I leaned down to
kiss his mushroom head. Then, after flicking my tongue across his piss
slit, I nuzzled his cap with my lips, swallowing Jason's delicious ooze,
then kissed the length of his tender pole. Licking my way back to the tip,
I made Jason groan, and he buried his hands in my hair. Pursing my lips, I
took tiny nursing slurps up and down his quivering stalk. Jason moaned some
more, while gently pulling my hair. His feet making impatient little kicks
in the water.

With a thumb and index finger encircling Jason' raging hardness, I slowly
stroked him. At the same time, I engulfed his helmet with my mouth, sealing
my lips around his churning boyhood. Lowering my salivating orifice, I slid
Jason's quaking kielbasa up my tongue almost to my throat. Pulling back, I
sucked hard almost to the tip, then bobbed back again. At the same time, I
added friction with my fingers, stroking him in time. Faster and faster I
sucked and stroked, and swallowed ever more Jason goo.

Rotating my head, I started corkscrewing my mouth with each slobbery
milking. Jason's hips involuntarily flexed in time, and his hands pulled my
hair harder. He was moaning louder, almost crying when I I clamped my lips
around his love nozzle, and stroked him furiously with all my fingers.

"Robiiiiin!" He screamed. "I'm cuuuuuuuhhhhhh!!"

Holding my breath, I locked off my throat with tongue, as Jason pulled
himself all the way into my pie hole. He detonated, overflowing my mouth
with the first hot jet of magma. I couldn't swallow, and his chowder
drooled out of my lips as the next pulse of boy gravy erupted.

Jason's grip on my hair lightened, but I pulled back enough to quickly
swallow and breath, just before the next two liquid torpedos exploded
across my palette, streaming out of my lips. Swallowing hard and sucking
harder, I pumped him empty, and he soon slumped over my head, his lungs
bellowing like a mini-minotaur.

Addicted to his slightly sweet and slightly salty, carroty flavor, I
carefully tongue bathed his messy crotch until every trace of Jason Juice
was in my belly. His breath slowed, and his hands roamed around my skinny
back.

"You almost killed me, man." Jason chuckled.

"Angels don't die," I replied. It was so corny we both snorted.

He leaned back to gaze in my eyes, then Jason dropped into the pool beside
me. Clasping my pulsating member with a thumb and two fingers, he
delicately twirled around my quivering knob. At the same time, his lips met
mine, and I gasped into his full lips.

His other arm draped down my back, and his hand lightly cupped my small
round ass, and tickled my bottom. Then a finger began stroking along my
crevice, as our mouths opened wider, and our tongues pressed together.

Jason's finger tips were stroking the whole length of my 3 inches, from my
bald pubic base, to the circumcised tip. Reaching my mushroom head, Jason
twirled round, before stroking back. My slick flesh could barely stand the
torment that would have been impossible out of the water.

My tightly fastened sphincter was gently probed, and Jason's finger
spiraled into my muscular ring. As it popped through, I moaned, and my
breathing grew faster. As Jason stroked my desperate hardness, his finger
dove deeper into my defenseless tunnel. My hips thrust back and forth to
meet the hands pleasuring me on either side, and I groaned as he nibbled my
earlobe.

Jason's tongue tip tapped into my ear, and his finger found my acorn and
rubbed. Tremors ruptured through my tightly shuddering bald nuts, as the
itchy fire built and blasted out through my steely penis. I screamed raw
and hard, and collapsed into boyfriend's protective embrace. The world
lurched as my dick erupted with 2 or 3 more dry heaves.

Jason hugged me to his chest with one arm, while his other hand gently
gripped my love gun until I was through. Slowly getting my breath back, I
smiled up into his eyes. "I fucking love swimming."

Just as our lips met for another light kiss, the elderly backyard neighbor
called over the fence. "Hello? Is everything OK over there?"

We both choked back laughter and I called back, "Everything's fine,
Mr. Boggs. We were just playing a game. Sorry to bother you!" He said "OK,"
and kids are kids.

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

Upstairs in my room, we got half-dressed, grabbed our books, and went back
to the kitchen to snack and do homework. My little brother Chris came in
from the garage, and smiled when he saw Jason. "No tennis practice?"

"Nope. You'll be seeing more of me during the week, man."

"Cool!" He ran upstairs to lose his shoes and school clothes, and came back
with his homework in just his socks and snug little underpants. For the
next hour or two, we were all quietly working on our assignments. Finishing
his work, Chris announced he was going to read a book, and ran upstairs. I
saw Jason's eyes follow my little brother's cotton-clad ass, and leaned
over towards his ear.

"Perv," I said in a low voice.

He snorted and smiled into my eyes. "Says the guy who had sex with my
10-year-old brother." Touché.

My mom came home from work and smiled on seeing us.

"Nice haircut, Jason," she complimented his light brown locks. He'd gotten
it cut to hang just above his collar, similar to mine.

"Thanks, Dr. S."

They chatted for a while, then my dad got home. He was fixing dinner that
night, and asked Jason if he wanted to stick around to eat.

"Thanks, Dr. S.," he said, using the name he had for both of my
parents. "But I gotta get home. Mom's expecting me."

"You know, we've never met her. Love to have her over for dinner one
night."

Jason agreed to bring it up with his mom, and we cleared our homework from
the table. Back up in my room, he pulled on his pants and shoes, and packed
his bag.

"Your family's so cool," he said, not for the first time. I took them for
granted then. But I don't now.

"Your mom and Sean are cool, too," I tried to respond.

"Not even close, dude."

That night, Jason called, and we arranged for his family to come over for
dinner on Saturday night.

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

Saturday morning I was racing in my first junior swim league meet. Most of
these were intramural, and we competed in age groups against the other kids
in the same program. The girls league was also racing, though not against
boys.

I didn't know how I'd do, and asked everyone to stay home. But my sister
insisted on driving me. Naturally, she had to pick up her boyfriend,
Jeremy, and so I had my own little cheering section. Jeremy was a handsome
16-year-old Lori met at school, and he was privy to my budding
homosexuality. He was totally cool with it. No wonder Lori and he were a
match.

We checked in, and found places in the stands waiting for the first of my
two events. It was a long wait for a mediocre performance. I was a strong
swimmer, and could punch through heavy breakers while paddling to surf
outside sets. But as a late bloomer, I was small for my age, and the guys
winning races were on the other side of the development curve. Still, Lori
and Jeremy were enthusiastic as I got dry and pulled on my sweats.

I suggested we check out the divers before leaving, and we walked toward
their pool. Passing the girls' races, I heard my name called. It was a
friend from junior high, Meg Olson, who came over to say hello. About my
height, the pretty, dark-haired girl was also a late developer. She was a
good student, but really shy.

Introducing my sister and her boyfriend to Meg, we chatted for a few
minutes about the girls' events. After saying goodbyes, we continued on our
way.

"Someone's got a huge crush on you," Lori quietly teased.

"Totally," added Jeremy.

"Shut up you guys!" I was embarrassed. Maybe it was true.

We took seats in the stands and watched some pretty dramatic
dives. Eventually, a familiar familiar figure climbed the platform, and I
cheered. My friend Mark stood on his toes on the edge to pull an inward
somersault. To me, it looked perfect. To the judges, it was a 7.5. Either
way, I yelled and clapped as he climbed out of the pool.

Mark saw me, grinned, and walked over. I slapped skin, congratulating
him. He smiled and said it really wasn't that good.

He was a really pretty boy. Standing about my height, he was slender, but
slightly muscular, with piercing blue eyes and a dusting of freckles across
the bridge of his nose. With his lithe arms folded, he had an easy smile.

Introducing Lori and Jeremy, I learned that had been Mark's final dive for
the day. Lori asked if he needed a lift home, but Mark pointed out his
parents in the stands, who waved at us. We chatted a little more, then
left.

"He's got a huge crush on you," Lori quietly teased.

"Totally," added Jeremy. "Stud."

"Shut up, you guys!" Cringing, I laughed. Probably it was true.

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

Jason, Sean and Dr. Bisset came by at 6. Though everyone was a little
awkward at first, it turned into a great dinner. The grownups got on really
well. Though Chris and Sean were a year apart in the same school, they'd
seen each other around, and became quick buds. Jeremy was there, too, but
he and Lori were more into each other than all the table chatter.

After dessert, the adults lingered with wine, the teenage couple went out
to the deck, and we four boys went up to my room to listen to records. I'd
just put on the New York Dolls - radically incongruous with the SoCal radio
bullshit at the time - when Sean piped up.

"Let's play a game!"

We had Monopoly, Parcheezi, and all the other board games that could drive
future digital generations insane. But it's all we had. Anyway, the
mischievous 10-year-old had other plans.

"Prisoner." Elaborating, Sean said one of us should be tied, blindfolded,
and questioned. We kind of shrugged. Why not? But we didn't have any
rope. Thinking about it, I got out some tube socks. "Who's first?" I asked.

No one volunteered, so we cut cards. Mine was the lowest. Looking around,
Sean told me to stand with my back to my bed. Using one tube sock, he tied
my wrist to the footboard, then did the same with my other side. Wrapping
another sock around my head, he blindfolded me. I felt ridiculous.

"OK, what now?" I asked.

"We want to know your plans, prisoner!" Sean tried to play-act with the
shittiest movie villain accent.

I felt totally stupid, but played along. "I'll never talk. Do your worst."

So Sean did, dropping my trousers to my ankles. Everyone laughed. "That's
your worst?" Then I felt a small hand cup the front of my thin
underpants. I squealed, laughing harder, trying to squeeze my thighs shut
against Sean's grip.

"Talk!" He was laughing too, but rubbing my little brief bump with the flat
of his hand.

I couldn't twist out of his "torture," and soon he was gripping 3 inches of
quivering boy meat in a cotton wrapping. I heard the other boys giggle as
Sean stroked the tube tenting into his hand.

I was laughing hysterically. "I won't talk," I choked out.

"I know where your secrets are," Sean humorously announced. Slowly, but
deliberately, he pulled down the front of my snug, low-rise briefs. It
caught my boyhood, bending my prong before it snapped back to thwack my
bald pubic area. We all laughed, then my undies were hooked under my little
scrotum.

Sean ran a finger up down my quivering hardness to my tiny tightening nuts,
and I shivered.

"OK, I'll talk. I surrender!" I was laughing so hard.

"Too late, American. It's off to the firing squad with you."

My trousers were pulled up, and wrists untied. I shook my head. Stupid
premise, but a great game.

"Who's next?" demanded Sean.

"Me!" Chris quickly volunteered. He shrugged and everyone snickered.

My little brother was blindfolded, and had his wrists bound to the
bed. Nervous, but grinning, his trousers were dropped to his ankles. Barely
covered by his madras shirt-tails, Chris' small, sheer underpants strained
with a finger of pulse-beating flesh.

Sean smiled with anticipation, stepping toward his captive. Lightly running
tickling the inside of Chris' skinny thigh to make him squirm, Sean
demanded his prisoner submit.

"But I don't know anything!" Chris squawked and laughed, as Sean lightly
caressed the little fingerling stretching out my brother's very small, very
tight underpants. They were a younger boy's size of my brand, and you could
see every definition of his drumming poker.

Staring at the snug cotton treasure trove, Sean stroked his finger along
the diminutive tent, from the quivering tip to the base, where Chris' tiny
bag no doubt lay buried. Chris moaned.

Sean muttered "Nice undies." He didn't bother getting back into character.

Dropping to his knees, the 5th-grader ran his palm up and down my 4th-grade
brother's pulsating hardness. Chris pressed his hips out, and Sean snaked a
thumb and his index finger along the cotton-wrapped pole. Grasping the
waistband on either side of Chris' hips, Sean lowered my brother's undies,
letting the slim, two-inch baby love wand free.

"You have skin over your wiener," Sean exclaimed in wonder.

"Yeah, I'm not circumcised." Chris explained. He was born in Zurich.

Bending down next to the Sean, I showed him how to carefully push back
Chris' hood, then pull it forward again. Chris inhaled sharply, and smiled
dreamily.

"Cool!" Sean unsheathed my brother, leaned in and licked around the purple
helmet. Behind his blindfold, Chris couldn't see the tongue bathing his
boyhood, and lurched.

"Wha-what are you doing??"

"Making you talk, prisoner," Sean murmured.

Chris groaned harder as Sean engulfed his glans with his lips, while
rubbing two fingers under the tight little sack at base of his shank.

Jason was mesmerized, running his palm up and down the lump behind his
fly. I was going to have to get under that hood, soon.

Pulling back to examine his work closely, Sean used a thumb and index
finger to gently roll Chris' foreskin forward again, then back. Gently
masturbating my brother, Sean made him breathe harder and squirm against
his restraints. Chris' little butt cheeks were flexing, and his hips
thrusting in time with the friction brought to his helpless tool. It didn't
take long, and I knew he was close. I crawled up on the bed behind my
little brother, and slid my arms around his slim chest to hold him against
me, kissing the back of his ear.

Suddenly, Chris pushed back against me and squealed, and his arms flailed
against the restraints. He gasped and groaned, and his arms pulled against
his restraints, then he went slack into my embrace.

"Whoa," Sean said, looking up. "He does that too?"

"Yeah, seems so," confirming that my little brother also tended to pass out
from orgasm.

"So radical," Sean said in awe, then pulled up Chris' briefs and trousers,
while Jason untied the tube socks around my brother's wrists. He mumbled
woozily, then straightened up. I was still holding Chris, as he pulled off
his tube sock blindfold. Turning to me, he whispered, "Did I fall asleep?"

"Just for a second, buddy." We smiled at each other.

"That was the funnest."

I got up, walked over to Jason, and ran a finger up his fly. "Wanna stay
over?"

Beaming, he nodded vigorously. "Fuck yeah!"

Just then, Chris pointed toward at Sean, grinning. "Now it's your turn!"
But just as Sean walked to take position, there was a knock at my
door. Lori cracked it open just wide enough to call in that Dr. Bisset was
leaving. Both of the younger boys weren't happy.

Downstairs, I asked my parents if Jason could stay the night. They looked
at Jason's mom, who pointed out he hadn't brought anything. "Oh, we have a
spare toothbrush or two," my mother answered, and Dr. Bisset
shrugged. "OK." Sean looked a little crestfallen, and I'm sure he wanted to
be invited as well. But Chris was a bedwetter, and there were very few
people he trusted with that secret.

My parents walked Sean and his mom to the car. Though we were going to hang
out and watch some TV, Jason, Chris and I went upstairs to get changed for
bed. For years, I'd taken over the job of getting Chris in and out of the
diapers he wore at night, just as big my sister had with me. So after we
all peed and brushed our teeth, we went to my little brother's room, where
he stripped off his clothes. I lay down a changing mat and towel, and then
folded cloth diapers. Someday, disposables would make life a lot easier for
the world. But they weren't common in the 70s.

With years of experience, I quickly powered and pinned Chris, and pulled
him into plastic pants. Standing up, I pulled off everything but my socks,
and Jason followed suit. My little brother was ashamed of his wetting, even
though it was a trait in my mother's family, and I'd only stopped around
his age. To make him feel more normal, we'd agreed to wear diapers during
sleepovers, and it put a smile on his face to see big boys swaddled for the
night.

As Jason lay down on the folded white cloth, his five inch meat throbbed
toward his belly.

"You've got a boner!" Chris sing-songed, then grasped Jason's this
stalk. My boyfriend gasped, and I moved my brother's hand away. I noticed
he'd grown more hairs above his trembling root, but I didn't say
anything. Jason hated his pubes.

Quickly diapering him and putting on his plastic pants, I soon switched
places with folder cloth under my slender ass. I'd taught Jason the art,
and he soon had me pinned, but I didn't bother with plastic pants. They
were uncomfortable and noisy, and I had no intention of ever wetting
again. For me, this was all cosplay to put Chris at ease.

My brother pulled on a t-shirt, and went down to the den, while Jason and I
dropped off our clothes in my room, and I pulled out a couple of oversized
FC Zurich jerseys to wear. We joined my family watching some detective
show. My parents smiled when they saw we were dressed once again to support
Chris.

The big teenagers came in from the backyard, where they'd probably been
smooching. Jeremy came in to thank my parents for dinner and say
goodnight. Having dated Lori for a long time, he was used to seeing Chris
in diapers. Thankfully, our football shirts covered Jason and me, or we'd
have to get into long explanations.

Eventually, my parents kissed us good night, and Chris was nodding off. So
we all headed off to bed. After pulling down the front of his diaper to pee
in the bowl one last time, Chris kissed me goodnight. I peed, then brought
changing supplies into my room, knowing Jason's needs.

Closing the door, I peeled off my shirt. He was already in bed, and I
climbed in and curled around him, draping a leg across his, and my arm
across his bare chest.

"Mmmmm..."

"I love my little baby boy," I whispered into his ear, kissing earlobe.

"I love you, Robin." He sighed. "Thank you for letting me be your baby,
again."

He had a shitty dad, and he envied my family's warmth. Every so often, he
wanted to be cuddled, protected and babied. Loving his willing
vulnerability, I would snuggle with him, and rub his tummy with fingertips
for a while. My caresses grew wider, from his hardening nipples to the
elastic waist of his plastic pants.

Slowly, I pressed my hand in, and found his fat boy tube straining against
soft, wet cloth. Grasping his pulsating prong through his urine soaked
wrapper, I slowly stroked.

"My little boy is very wet." I whispered. "And he's very, very hard."

He moaned. "Yes. Your little baby had an accident, and his wet penis needs
to be rubbed."

I pressed my own cotton-cloaked hardness into his hip, as I gripped Jason
harder and stroked him faster. His hips were rocking, and he was panting.

"That's it, baby boy."

"Uhh, uhhh, uhhh," he huffed, as I rubbed his the wet girth, and kissed his
cheek.

"Come for me, baby. Come for me, baby boy."

Pulling a pillow over his face, his muffled groaned seeped through the
pillow like his pee through a diaper, and his hips thrust up in the air
once, twice, a third time, then slowly stopped rocking. Gently clasping his
diapered boyhood while he stopped spasming, I felt his hardness retreat.

At last, he pulled the pillow back under his head, and smiled at me in
bliss.

"I guess I should get you out of these wet things," I whispered.

He rolled over, running his fingers through my hair. "Let me take care of
you, first."

I lay back, and Jason traced his finger tips across my torso, then down to
the little lump pressing out against my white nappies. I was so rigid and
eager I couldn't help loudly moaning when he gently clasped my quivering,
diaper-draped tip.

Bringing his full lips to mine, he silenced my needful mewling, and stroked
the length of my tented pickle. Stroking me with a thumb and two fingers,
he had my hips pumping in time with his urgent pulling. I gritted my teeth,
and he tickled my lips with his tongue. The friction grew more furious
around my cotton-encased pole, and I couldn't hold back the detonation of
white hot fire surging drily from my penis. My back arched as the wave
spread, and stars burst across my tightly clenched eyes as I choked off a
mad shriek before it could leave my chest. I fell into the familiar void.

Sometime later, I woke up with Jason gently snoring and spooned around
me. I reached back, and found he'd changed himself. He hadn't bothered with
plastic pants, so I knew he was done peeing for the night. I drifted back
to sleep.