Date: Mon, 16 Sep 2019 02:38:18 +0000 From: hzxxy3+5yxwdorqoqem4@guerrillamail.com Subject: Robin's Adventures | Part 32 | "Juliet" | Robin's Adventures | Part 32 | "Juliet" | By K. Gespenst. A decent swell finally hit San Diego County in the last two weeks of August, and so my older sister Lori drove my younger brother Chris and me down to the point every morning to hit the waves. On the way, we'd pick up my new boyfriend, Mark. The water was finally warm, so nobody bothered with wetsuits. Boys just wore baggy Birdwells, which were cut low enough to protect your thighs from getting a rash from board wax abrasions, salt water and plankton. In the late 70s, rash guards hadn't been invented, so I'd sometimes end up with tender nipples. But after we drove home exhausted from riding glassy double overheads, Mark was more than happy to kiss them better. Both of our ballet schools and our swim team were finally on break until Labor Day. We didn't have much to do besides hit the waves until Lori needed to leave for her shifts waiting tables, or the winds brought in the chop, whichever came first. But that was fine with me. I didn't realize it then, but I was falling hard for this beautiful 13-year old, and I didn't need any excuse to spend time doing nothing with him. He was lithe, yet firmly muscular, with a slightly feminine grace. I loved the way his long black hair fell around his girlishly pretty face, and the way he moved his willowy form with self-assuredness. He was a bit of a contradiction. So poised and confident, and yet at the same time very humble. Before getting in the outdoor shower in our backyard, after Lori and Chris had taken their turns and gone inside, we'd untie each other's bathing suits, which quickly dropped from our slender hips. The outlines from where our Birdwells protected us from the sun contrasted with our dark sun tans. Paler still were the triangles from where our swim team speedos were usually wrapped around us the rest of the year. Framed within those hairless white triangles young boners launched toward the sky. In the sparkling Californian sunshine, we'd gaze into each other's eyes. Mark had a cute habit of biting one half of his lower lip, shyly dipping his chin down while gazing up at me, and I couldn't help wrapping my arms around him. Our young erections mashed together while we hugged, and then kissed. And one morning I couldn't help it. "I love you, Mark." It just came out and I regretted it immediately. But I needn't have worried. He pulled away to look me dead on, said in a low, steady voice, "I've always loved you, Robin." We kissed more urgently, then. And like most other mornings, we slid under the warm shower, our mouths devouring each other. Barely breaking away, I'd grab the soap and lather his arms and chest, his legs and then his throbbing 4 inches. I'd rinse it all off, and then he'd wash me, lingering on my 3.5 inches. At 14, I should have been bigger, but all the boys in my mom's family are notorious late bloomers. But that didn't matter to Mark. He'd slide his fingers up and back, from the straining, smooth bag barely detached from my dick, up my quivering length, to circle around my sensitive, circumcised head. Then he'd rinse me off and I'd work his front again. We'd take several turns, especially with each others dicks, but never letting the other cum. It was an excruciating game that left us squeaky clean. Finally, it was time to work our backsides, and I loved the slippery, rubbery feel of his skin, as I soaped from his shoulders to his ankles and back. Each time I reached his firm, round globes, I'd massage in the soap, cleansing his crevice with extra care. I was so desperately hard when my finger worked a tip into his tight rosebud. Mark would gasp, then sigh as I slowly moved my soapy digit in to knuckle, then back. Gently I fingered him until I could get all the way in, while kissing his hair-draped neck, water streaming down his back. I worked in a second finger, and he groaned. I let him relax around me, as I reached around to gently caress his tumescence. I had to be careful teasing him, or he would burst then and there, so I would slowly peel away. Then, it would be my turn, and Mark was especially eager to wash my valley, as well. He'd reach around to gently clasp my tight young bag, while his fingers swept up and down my divide. Then, he'd work his soapy digits in. After he spent long minutes finger fucking me with one finger, he'd slide in another. Usually, if he weren't careful, this would be all it would take to make me cum, as well. So Mark would release my genitals, and would get ready to swap positions again. We'd do this until one of us begged the other to cum, and we'd take turns quickly finishing each other off in our mouths. But that morning, I had another idea. As Mark's fingers slid out of me, I whispered over my shoulder. "Mark, do you want to fuck me?" "Oh, shit yes, Robin," Mark whispered back into my ear, kissing my cheek. I could feel his desire resting between my firm little buttocks when he gently nibbled my earlobe. I quietly moaned, and reached back to grab his ass and pull him firmly against me. Boy against boy; hard breathing through that warm waterfall. "But, I've never done it before," Mark whispered. I craned my neck to kiss his part little lips. "Don't worry. Just get yourself really soapy." I reached back to gently help lather his quivering length, then spread my legs as far as they could go in the shower. Mark lathered up my crack some more, and I bent forward to grip my ankles. Another side benefit from the ballet lessons we both took to improve our competitive diving was a ridiculous flexibility I miss in my old age. "Are you ready?" Mark whispered. "Yeah, man. But go slowly, OK?" I felt the circumcised head of his cock at my doorway, and I concentrated on my breathing. As his helmet slowly entered my ring, I grit my teeth. I'd been practicing at night with a dildo my cousin had given me in Munich a few weeks before. But It still hurt as Mark gently, slowly pressed into me, his head popping through. I asked him to stop a couple of times, and he made sure I still wanted it. "Yes!" I pleaded with him. "I want you in me so bad." As soon as I relaxed enough, he'd press further, And then I'd press back with my rectum, like I were about to take shit. Then he finally slid all the way in. He was literally balls deep in my ass, and I could feel his smooth, hairless scrotum come to rest against me, as his penis pressed against my love button. It felt so good, I couldn't help clenching around Mark's intruding boyhood. "It's so tight and hot, Robin!" Mark growled. "Oh shit!" I felt his dick spasm inside me. His hands had a death grip on my skinny hip bones, pulling himself further into me as he came. And that's all it took to rip my climax from from my fiery hole, out through my hairless, 14-year-old dick. My butt clenched even harder around Mark, and he moaned loudly, as the itchy fire blew out of my nuts and prick. Through gritted teeth, I choked off my scream of pain and pleasure, then dizzily fell into darkness. Thankfully, Mark had a good grip on me. And by now, he knew I usually passed out from cumming. My doctor said it was a combination of low blood pressure, low body fat, and my tendency to auto-asphyxiate by unconsciously holding my breath. My friends just thought it was cool. Anyway, I came to a few minutes later. Mark had put us sitting side by side, and he gently hugging me to him. "Well, that was..." he whispered, searching for a word. "Quick?" I said, and we both giggled. "But really so fucking hot." He said, earnestly. "I've never felt anything like that." "We can try again, if you want," I said, hopefully. He grinned and nodded, and we both shot to our feet. We washed our hair in record time, toweled off, and ran upstairs. Lori was already gone, my parents were at work, and Chris was off skateboarding with Trevor and Pablo. So we had the house to ourselves, and by the time we were in my room, we were both rigid with anticipation. After slamming shut the door, I laid out a couple of fresh towels on the bed, mentioning that things could get messy. Then I pulled out the bottle of lube my cousin had given to me. Explaining what it was for, I slicked up my hands and slid around all around my boyfriend's hardness. "That feels really, really good!" Mark gasped, and I spent long minutes greasing his head and shaft, working in the lube, then slicking him up some more. "Yeah, doesn't it? You can also try hand lotion, some time. It also makes this easier," I said. Then I pulled out the dildo and winked. His mouth dropped as I greased the toy up, and lay back on the towels. Pulling my knees up, I slowly penetrated myself. Though I was loosened up, my anus was sore, so I took my time. "Whoa." Mark slowly stroked himself, making squelching sounds, as he watched the dildo slide into me. "That looks so cool." After I got it all the way in, I slowly pulled it out, then in again, while the other boy's eyes grew wide. "Can I try it?" Mark asked. "Yeah, but, it might be a little gross." But when i pulled it out, there wasn't any poop on the dildo. Mark had probably cored me clean in the shower. I got up and had Mark get on all fours, with his head resting on a pillow. With lots more lube, I slowly fingered him, running circles round his ring, then working in a digit. Then another. Mark was sighing and pressing back against me, as I worked him for long moments. Finally, I pulled my hand away, and slicked up the love toy. It was a slim dildo, barely wider than my pubescent dick. So it slid in easily, though Mark grunted with a little pain. After letting him rest a moment, I gently moved the toy in and out, making my boyfriend moan. Then I warned him: "But wait! There's more!" I said, in a TV ad voice. I flicked the switch for the vibrator, and Mark practically screamed. "Holy shit! Holy shit!" I thrust the dildo two or three times into him before he yelled "Stop! Please stop!" Panicked, I quickly shut the device off. "Are you OK? Did I hurt you?" "I'm OK, dude!" He cried out. "But I almost came again." I grinned. "Do you want me to take it out?" "No. Just don't do anything for a minute, OK? And do't turn that thing on, again." I lay down next to him, and gave him a gentle kiss. "You want to try fucking me again, or do you want this?" I asked, running my hands through his long, black hair. "Can we do both?" He asked. "At the same time?" I giggled. "You are a very kinky boy." Then I kissed him on his upturned little nose. I got on all fours next to Mark, and let him slick his hands and then my buns. His fingers occasionally slid down to cup and massage my straining scrotum. Then, he spent long minutes working his fingers into me, as I'd done to him. When I told him I was ready, Mark knelt behind me, between my widely spread knees. I pushed my butt high, while arching my chest low. Then I felt his hot love missile push into me. It was much easier this time, and in moments, I was once again impaled with 13-year-old boy cock. "Mmmmm. You feel so good in me." "And you're so warm, and tight and soft," Mark groaned. "And this dildo is pressing against something that feels really good." With my urging, Mark slowly pressed a little in and a little out. He took his time building up his thrusting action, resting every so often. Eventually, he was fucking me hard. His steaming sword slid in and out of my tight, sore hole, pounding me as I pushed back into him. The room filled with moans and sighs and the sounds of slapping boy flesh. One of his arms wrapped around my chest, hugging me tightly. With two fingers of his other hand, he gently stroked my achingly hard length. "I. Can't. Hold. It. In. Robin!" Mark warned "Don't stop. Cum inside me, baby! Cum hard. I want your cum in me right now!" His hips hurled one final time, as if Mark were trying to bury himself in me. Then I felt his cock lung, and my boyfriend squealed. He hugged me harder, shuddering around me, as his hips gently ground into me three or four more times, and then came to rest. Gasping, he rested for a minute on top of me. "That was incredible," he sighed. "Better than I ever imagined." "You imagine this a lot?" I asked, with fake innocence. "Actually." He paused. "I've thought a lot about doing this with you. You know, when I'm, um..." And we giggled. He slowly slid out of me. Incredibly, Mark's penis was still hard. "But really, I usually dream of you fucking me." He gave me a meaningful look and said, "I'd rather have your dick in me than this dildo." I grinned. "Me too!" We switched places, with Mark's head resting on the pillows and me between his legs. I reached down to gently pull the red rubber toy out of his firm, perfect ass. When it was finally out, I saw a tiny spot of poop, and quickly tossed the dildo away so Mark wouldn't see. I remembered my gay German uncle's talk with me about douching, and made a mental note for the future. I slicked up my cock with more lube, then pressed my angry helmet against his now more pliant hole. With a hand to steady my shaft, I slowly pressed in, and my head quickly popped through. I heard Mark quickly inhale. I stopped, but he urged me on. Gently, but decisively, I pressed into him. A glove of buttery boy gripped me with tight heat, and I moaned because he felt so good around me. Then, finally, I was all the way in, and I waited a moment, relishing the warm, moist oven baking my boy meat. "Go ahead and fuck me, Robin," Mark sighed. He was smiling coyly back at me. Gripping his slender hips with both hands, I slid a little back, feeling his bowels stroke my length, then I gently thrust forward. Though I really needed to cum, I moved slowly, savoring the feeling of my 14-year-old rod in my boyfriend's 13-year-old ass. But Mark wanted me to plow him harder, and so I did. Thrusting hard, I ground into him for all I was worth. At the same time, Mark pressed back, grunting with every stroke. I reached down to clutch his moist hardness, and he moaned loudly. He fucked my hand with each pump forward, and my dick with each pump back. I lifted my other hand to swat his butt cheek once or twice. Slicking slapping sounds filled the room once more, and we were both crying out in desperation. Mark wailed "Fuck me hard, Robin! Fuck my hole!" I didn't need his urging, and sweat was flying off me as I plowed him for five or six thrusts more. And then I couldn't hold it in. I felt the explosion looming. Just as the white heat billowed out, I screamed, "I'm cumimng Mark! I'm cumming in your tight little ass!" And whatever tiny dibble I had to offer felt like a rocket launching out of my dick, into Mark's steaming bottom. Mark's ass suddenly clenched around me and he loudly moaned, and I vaguely registered his dick lurching in my hand. But I was screaming something unintelligible as I pounded him two more times, Then dizzily collapsed onto his sweat-drenched back. I didn't pass out this time, but it was many minutes before I could move. Mark slid lay down all the way onto his belly, and I slowly caught my breath, as my dick softened within him, then drew out. "I think I've found my new favorite thing in the world," Mark chuckled. I sighed, and slid beside, then curled around around him, with one leg dropping across Mark's finally deflating cock. Then we fell into a deep, well-earned sleep. ================================================= Really quickly, Mark and I became exchangeable fixtures in each other's homes, sleeping over a couple of times a week. His family was really warm towards me, and I really liked his dad. But one night when I found myself alone with Paul tending the barbecue, and he grew very serious. "Robin," he said, putting down his can of Tab Cola, "My kids are the most important thing in the world. Mark really has a thing for you. I have a couple of buddies from the Corp and the Navy who...explained to me their attraction to other men. I think I understand, though I'd never share that...uh, attraction. But you know, I don't rightly care. My boy is how God made him. And so are you. And I'm just happy that Mark and you found each other." He bent down and bear-hugged me. I hugged back with shock and love. When he pulled away, he wiped something away from his eye. And I knew I was as much a part of the Kessler home as Mark was a part of mine. But I also heard the subtext: hurt Mark, and you're a dead man. This was a really important thing to lay out, because Mark and I were going to be attending the same school after Labor Day. I'd been academically unchallenged by the public junior high, and my parents were putting me in the local K-12 private school Mark attended. So we'd be spending even more time together. But we had a few days before the hammer came down, and we grabbed summer by the short hairs, even if we had none of our own. ============================= One day, after we'd gone surfing, and the house was empty for us to fuck each other's lights out, Mark told me of how he wanted to become a film maker. I knew he was into doing school plays, and he'd gotten me into ballet. For me, it was about becoming a better diver, but for him, an art a part of his soul. We'd never talked about grownup things. As our sweat dried in the warm afternoon air, and I traced my fingers up and down his naked torso, admiring his lithe, firm tummy, we talked about all the movies we loved. Then, out of the blue, he asked me if I wanted to make a film with him that day. I readily agreed. And like most families back then, we even had a Super-8 film camera that went largely unused. Until the early 80s, only TV stations and really rich people had video cameras, so home movies were a thing, but a total pain in the ass. They usually had no sound, you had to get the film developed, then set up a screen, run the film through a projector and shut off all the lights, just to see someone blow out birthday candles. We got up, pulled on our briefs and went to rummage through hall closet to find the camera. It was empty, but we had a few rolls of unexposed black-and-white. "So, what do you shoot?" I asked, as Mark loaded the camera. "Well, I was thinking we could do a science fiction version of something I think you know. Have you done a pas de deus from Romeo and Juliet?" I shook my head. "No, I'm just a beginner, you know." He thought for a moment, and put down the camera. "Let's see what we can come up with, first. Do you have a spare pair of dance shoes?" I had slippers, but no point shoes, which was just as well. Mark hadn't gone on point yet. I went upstairs and got my shoes, then went to rummage through the box of Lori's old ballet stuff to find the pair that fit me. Mark and I were the same size in everything, so the shoes would be fine. Then I spotted her white tutu. One of us would need that, and the thought of Mark in a girl's outfit stirred my penis a little. I smiled, and brought it with me, when I met my boyfriend in the empty garage. Holding up the tutu, I arched my eyebrow and asked, "Who did you have in mind for Juliet?" And we both laughed hysterically, as he theatrically shrugged. But as he pulled the stretchy elastic skirt up his slender legs, we both agreed he'd make a great leading lady. It was a short, child's pancake skirt that radiated straight out from from his suntanned hips, and barely hid his soft, white underpants. And he looked so cute, my prick was soon swelling out against my tight, blue bikini briefs. Mark noticed and giggled. "Are you just happy to see me rehearse for a major motion picture?" I readjusted my boner, which quickly left me as we put on sox and shoes, stretched and started some basic moves. I showed Mark all I knew, and he introduced me to some new, basic routines. The afternoon wore on, as he choreographed something that might work, but it was clear, we wouldn't be shooting anything right away. Sweat was pouring off us, and we were glad we'd skipped wearing tights and shirts. Then, the garage door began to open. We stopped midway as Lori and her boyfriend Jeremy slowly rolled in. They started laughing as they caught site of us moving out of position, and we shrugged. Like me, the only thing Mark felt silly about was doing ballet in the garage, albeit, in my sister's tutu. One of the things I loved about him was how quickly he'd adapted to my family's clothing-optional philosophy. My last boyfriend had been so easily embarrassed, while Mark was totally casual. As they got out of the car in their work uniforms, we explained our project to the two 17-year-olds, which sounded even more ridiculous with the obvious plot holes. But Jeremy said it sounded "cool," before he went into the house, and Lori offered some ideas. And she insisted Mark follow her upstairs to go through her costumes. We were both glad for a break, and I followed Jeremy out to the back. He stripped to his boxers, rinsed off in the shower, and jumped in the pool. I rinsed off and followed him in. He was a great guy, if sort of quiet, and we chatted as we cooled off. Eventually, we both got out and dried off, though my damp briefs clung like a second skin to my now shriveled junk. Just then, Lori came out to theatrically announce, "Introducing Mr. Mark Kessler, as Juliet Capulet!" She stepped aside and Mark leapt out into the dimming afternoon light. He was the most beautiful space girl I'd ever seen. Lori had dressed him in a silver, short-sleeved camisole, an almost matching light great tutu that hung just below his crotch, and silver tights, and he carried one of Chris' old toy ray guns, with he shot around as he danced. Then he held form, and I gazed at the beautiful make up magic Lori had worked. Mascara and eyeliner framed his liquid eyes, which shone out though a thin layer of pink foundation. His lips were a deeply swollen rose red. Jeremy and I applauded, then I ran to get the camera to shoot a few frames of Mark dancing around the yard. "We talked about getting some green make-up, but Mark's not sure." "I think he's perfect." Lori must have sensed the awe in my voice, because she grinned at me, then dragged Jeremy inside to "practice guitar" in her room. Mark glided over, and I couldn't conceal the desire stretching out against my sheer, damp undies. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, smiling down at my condition, and stroking a hand over my cotton clad hip. I caressed his jaw from his neck to his chin. "You so fucking gorgeous. You're like the most beautiful girl in the world," I said. "Would you want me to be a girl?" I shook my head emphatically. "No way, man. I like you all boy. But I love you dressed like a girl. You're just so pretty." Then he leaned in to kiss me. Damn he was a good kisser. He learned when he was ten from a 14-year-old girl cousin. They didn't do anything else, but he wanted to know how to kiss, and she was an expert, and Mark had practiced on a couple of boys in elementary school, and one in Junior High. Mark pulled away and smirked. "You have lipstick smeared all over you." he used a finger to wipe up the smears around my lips, then looked crucially and smiled. "I kind of like it." Then we kissed more passionately, and his makeup smeared all over me. My lips traced all along his jaw. I moved his long black hair out of the way to nibble and kiss his ear lobes, then lightly licked inside. He squirmed and squealed, and pulled me into him. My hardness mashed against crinoline, but I could feel his boner press against me, as well. I slid one hand under his tutu to gently trace the contours of his firm young ass. I could feel the high hemline of underpants that certainly weren't Marks, and I wanted to investigate. "Aren't you hot in these tights?" I whispered. He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I think you need to take them off me." Grabbing Mark by the hand, I lead him quickly up to my room, and slammed the door. Thankfully, there was music playing in Lori's room. Still, I turned on my stereo's receiver, which could get LA's KLOS. Then I turned to face my makeup messy boyfriend, who'd already taken off his shoes and socks. I followed suit, then got on my knees in front of the willowy beauty, to slide my hands up and down his slender thighs. I rested my cheek under his skirt, against the front of his thigh, and caressed inside his smooth, silver-clad legs. He sighed and then groaned as as I traced across the bulge stretching up the tight fabric. It pulsed beneath my finger tips, and I leaded over to kiss its length. Hooking the thumbs of both hands inside the waistband of Mark's leggings, I slowly pulled them to his ankles, revealing his rigid 4 inches encased in a pair of the super small, thin, red bikini briefs I'd picked up in Paris that summer. I smiled and kissed up and back along the swollen cotton, making Mark shiver. Then I stood up, to kiss him delicately on the lips, while lightly clutching his 13-year-old scrotum in it's tightly woven pouch. "You look very sexy in my briefs," I whispered. "Thief," I added. He chuckled, then replied, "My undies were soaked when Lori brought me upstairs. She actually had me try on a pair of her panties. They were pink satin, and felt really good - and I might have gotten a little boned from them." I giggled and he went on. "But there's not enough fabric in front to hold your nuts, and they kept popping out. So Lori raided your clothes." As I wove his long hair behind and ear, he said quietly, "They feel really sexy. And Lori thinks they look good on me." "Lori's right. And I think you should keep them." Then we kissed again, and I felt Marks fingers tracing up and down the length of my bone, through the thin damp cotton. "These are wet. I don't you to catch cold," he said slyly. Mark dropped to his knees and kissed my moistly wrapped tumescence, then licked up and back. Then he wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked me through my briefs. If he'd kept that up, I would have cum in moments, but he stopped to pull my underpants all the way to the floor, releasing my 3.5 inches of erection, pounding from smooth, hairless loins. Mark got back up and whispered, "You're really the sexy one. You're the most gorgeous boy I've ever met." I didn't believe him, but just kissed him, and pushed him back onto the bed. His tutu fell up on his stomach, revealing his pole pounding out desire in the Morse code of Mark's heartbeats. I slid on top of him, and we kissed deeply. Slowly, our hips started grinding together and Mark whispered, "Do you like my pretty red panties?" I was too hungry to argue the point. "Yes, you're so fucking hot in your pretty red panties," I whispered hoarsely back. "Fuck my pretty red panties," he groaned a little too loudly. and I had to quietly shush him. then I kissed him hard and rubbed my boner against his hardness. Our hips thrust against one another with a raging tempo, and Mark clutched my skinny buns with both hands, pulling me into him. He was so hot and feminine and yet boyish, all I wanted in the world at that moment was his hard dick pressing and rubbing against mine. I leaned down to gently suck upon his nipple, pressing like a little diamond through the tight, silver top, and Mark moaned. The thin cotton pantie barrier added to the friction building in our cocks. And we humped faster and harder, and the bed started rocking with all our fury. "Oh, Robin, don't stop!" "I'm about. To. Cum. Mark!" I croaked through mounting delirium as my little love gun rubbed in mounting rage against my boyfriend's pounding penis. "Me. Too!" he gasped. And then it happened. I choked back a scream of pleasure in my diaphragm, as the the white, itchy fire blew out from my tightly constricting little ballsack, and out my slender little cock. As stars detonated across my eyes, I heard Mark high pitched voice squealing my name, just as I fell into the warm blanket of darkness. ========== Sometime later, I woke up on my side, with Mark spooned around me. As I started moving, he said quietly, "Hey baby boy," stroking my forearm and hand. "Nice nap?" "Mmmmmhhhmmm," I sighed. "I had such a great dream about a ballerina boy. It must have been a dream. No one could be so pretty." He chuckled, and I rolled over. Lipstick and makeup smeared our faces, his costume, and my pillows. We had some cleanup to do. "Wanna spend the night? You know we have spare toothbrushes." "Can I borrow some clothes? And I'm gonna need a fresh pair of panties.' I reached under to confirm the moisture of drying cum in his briefs. I chuckled. "Well, you know where I keep them."