Date: Mon, 18 Nov 2019 02:10:28 +0000 From: kleiner.gespenst Subject: Robin's Adventures | Part 38 "The Baby Sitter" | ======================= Nifty relies on your contributions to bring you these words or weirdom. Please donate. ======================= A finger was gently roaming over my turgid prong, gently stroking the quivering length pulsing through thick, soft underpants. My hand rested on the front of his underwear, palming a much larger penis. A blanket covered 16-year-old Ronny from where our feet lay on the coffee table, to our chests, in the flickering light of the TV. We were paying vague attention to whatever was on. Nothing memorable ever ran on a Saturday night in the 70s. I was hoping to stay up late enough for SNL, but was getting really sleepy. After my little brother Chris had gone to bed, our baby sitter's fingers found their way to my groin, for the second time that night. Back before helicopter parenting, I didn't ordinarily need a babysitter while my parents took my big sister Lorie and her boyfriend Jeremy up to the Bay Area to see colleges. I was 14, and Chris was soon to turn 11, and I could be left in charge, if my leg hadn't been broken on a ski trip over Thanksgiving. My folks didn't want to leave us alone in our San Diego beach town in case of an emergency. My 13-year-old boyfriend Mark and his little sister had the chicken pox, and we couldn't stay with them. So Jeremy suggested his 16-year-old cousin Ronnie, who lived in Carlsbad, and had a car, as a sitter. I'd seen him at a swim meets, on a competing team. He was a sleek and fast medley swimmer, who filled out his red team Speedo nicely. I was surprised he remembered me when he showed up the night before, since I'd only started competing 6 or so months before, and I was on the dive team. But it turned out, it wasn't my diving that had caught his eye. "You cut your hair since this summer," he mentioned, runnings his fingers through my straight, collar-length blond locks. "Yeah, school dress code at St. Joe's" I replied, mentioning the private school Mark and I attended. "Also have to wear a white shirt and grey slacks." I'd already traded in my Oxford shirt for a t-shirt, but I kept on the grey sweat pants my school was letting me wear until my cast came off. Ronny's fingers remained in my hair longer than necessary, as he smiled down at me on the couch. Then his fingers dropped to my shoulder. "That'll make it easier to wash, after dinner," he noted. Even though my cast was fiberglass, the interior padding had to stay dry, so taking a bath was a huge process requiring help, and so I only washed every other night. On bath nights, my family traded off, scrubbing places I couldn't reach, while I holding my leg awkwardly in place over the bathtub rim. I guessed correctly that Ronny was eager to help me bathe after making Chris and me dinner. As we'd sat on the couch watching TV earlier, Ronny positioned himself very close to me, asking all kinds of questions like "do you have a girlfriend?" One arm draped behind my head, as he slowly drew out what he wanted to hear: that I didn't like girls. Then he admitted he didn't either. "So who's that cute little dark-haired boy on your team?" he asked, describing Mark. Ronny said we seemed to be "very close." I guess I've never been insecure with my sexuality, though back then it wasn't a wise choice to broadcast that you were gay. But maybe it was the fact I'd spent most of my first 12 years living in Switzerland, with a mother from Germany that I didn't have an uptight, American attitude about sexuality. And while I told the older boy Mark was my boyfriend, I enjoyed his fingers tracing down from my shoulder to my chest. As he made circles Ronny told me he had a secret younger boyfriend, who was away that weekend. My little cock started swelling from the tender attention the older boy payed to my torso. He leaned in and delicately kissed my ear. "How long has it been since you've been touched?" he whispered, then kissed my cheek. I noticed a thick swelling running behind the zipper of Ronny's Levis, which seemed to pulse when I said, "A week. I haven't even had time to wack it in days." I'd like to think my balls were clogged with cum, but I'd barely begun to shoot a tiny bit, and I didn't even have any hair. I figured he'd be very disappointed with the tiny treasure poking up against my sweat pants. Just then, we heard Chris bounding downstairs, his long blond hair still damp from his shower. "Bathroom's all your's, Robin," he said, "I started filling the tub." Dressed only in snug little European briefs, a t-shirt, and almost hip-length wool socks he borrowed from Lorie, my brother eschewed clothes whenever possible. And I caught Ronny smiling in admiration at Chris tight little bottom, as the younger boy lay on the floor to watch TV. Ronny wasted no time reaching for my crutches and helping me to my feet. I hobbled up the stairs ahead of him, and heard Ronny shut bathroom door close behind both of us. Turning around, I smiled up at him, resting a butt cheek on the sink so I could raise my arms up. Ronny whipped my shirt off quickly, then untied my sweat pants' draw string. As they slowly dropped I could see a little disappointment on the older boy's face. But it wasn't the small bump barely denting the boxers I borrowed from 17-year-old Jeremy. "Your undies are huge," he said. "My sister's boyfriend's underwear. Mine don't fit over my cast," explaining why I was wearing my billowing, knee-length drapes. "Well, they're just getting in the way," he said, "of your bath, I mean." He grinned, and I smiled back, letting him put a delicate kiss on my lips, before he pulled down my underpants. Bracing for more disappointment on Ronny's face, I was happy as the smile stayed plastered on your face. "You don't have any pubic hair yet," he whispered in awe. "That's so sexy." I didn't think so. Boys in my family were late bloomers, always small for their age. And a lot of people thought I was 12. But Ronny had mentioned a "younger" boyfriend, so I guess he was into my fully hard, slender four inches, pulsating from a bare pubis, and straining with a smooth walnut barely detached from my body. I shivered as he traced his forefinger along my circumcised length. "So beautiful," he whispered. "But I thought European boys were uncut?" As he checked the water temperature and shut off the faucet, I explained I'd been born in the California, and we'd moved to Zurich when I was 1. Chris, who'd been born there, was uncircumcised. Ronny reached into his shaving kit and pulled out something called Dr. Bronner's Soap. 
"You ever use this?" he asked. When I shook my head, he assured me I'd love it. Ronny helped me into the water, holding my leg up along the rim, almost submerging my head under the shallow water. I was propped up by a small blowup pillow under my shoulders. I kept my leg propped up with my hands, while Ronny quickly stripped to his snow white briefs. His tight underpants accentuated his slender, muscular build. I couldn't see any body hair on him either. Turned out that like a lot of swimmers, he shaved his legs and pits. It was tough to ignore the third leg throbbing up the center panel of his bleached white briefs, and the damp online of his knob drooling almost out of his striped waistband. He knelt with his back to me, one leg in the water next to mine, crouching on his other foot on the bathroom floor to pin my cast onto the bathtub rim under his knee. His bare foot pressed back into my hardness, and I gasped at the firm pressure. He chuckled, pressing his foot back even more firmly, then started to scrub my toes with a washcloth. The peppermint soap tingled every where it touched, making me moan again. And my hips began to involuntarily grind, pushing my cock into Ronny's foot. Then, it was his turn to moan when I reached up between his thigh and the toilet rim, clasping his full cotton-cloaked scrotum and squeezing gently. As he scrubbed further up my leg, I rubbed further up his pouch, using the flat of my hand to press along his turgid length. Ronny was breathing harder, as he stood up to turn around, kneeling to face me, and using his arm to pin my cast in place. He had a hazy, flushed look, taking the wash cloth to scrub the rest of me. As he leaned forward to work on my chest, his sopping briefs emerged from the water, clinging tightly to his big boyhood. He was probably 7 inches long, and thick, and I used all my fingers to clasp his ribbed, white underpants. He groaned as I slowly stroked his adolescence. He was washing my little pits when I used my other hand to massage his swollen sack. "That feels so good, Robin," he sighed. "I love your hairless little body." His fingers finally found my rigid pre-pubescence, and when he stroked my achingly hard four-inches with the washcloth, the rough fibers stung with peppermint soap, making me squeal. It felt tingly and good. He spent a little time washing my straining little bag before discarding the washcloth entirely. Tracing his fingers around my bare pubis, studying every bit of my hairless young, cock, Ronny clasped me with a thumb and index finger. His sinewy hips were rocking, as I stroked the older boy harder. He had barely started working on my little pole when he reached up to pull my hand away. "No, no, WAIT NO!" He cried out. I could feel his thick cock pulsing. A burst of thick ejaculate seeped up out of his waistband, and I could feel warm semen filling his briefs. He came hard, pressing into my eager, hungry little hand, and I milked him dry. At last, he stopped, and as he caught his breath, I pulled my hand away. "Fuck, Robin!" the 16-year-old heaved. "You really turn me on!" His erection barely softened, as he sat back on his ankles and stroked my tender little shaft. Pulling from the root to the tip, he twirled his fingers around my raging little knob, before stroking back. The minty tingling soapy water enhanced the burn he brought to my little love nozzle, and soon my hips were thrusting up to meet his stroking. Through gritting teeth I warned him with a grunt, "I...may...pass...out!" He chuckled, not realizing I was serious. And then I felt my little balls pulling into me, churning out in agitation. A white hot plume surged out of them, and my cock surged with the tiny bead of ejaculate dribbling free from my raging little head. As I choked my scream in my skinny diaphragm, stars detonated behind my clenching eyes, and I passed into darkness. ================================================ I heard my name being called urgently. Opening my eyes, I took in Ronny at me with panic. I smiled up at him. "I wasn't kidding, dude." But before he could get an ego trip about his hand job skills, I explained that my low blood pressure, combined with holding my breath almost always put me out. Also, the warm water made me light headed, anyway. It was a good warning for him later, when he slipped into my bed for the night. Until then, he washed my hair, then had me stand so he could scrub my back. He spent a long time cleaning my bottom, working a finger into my little hole. He was well on his way to bringing me to another ragging climax when we heard the phone ring distantly. A minute later, Chris yelled up. "Ronny, your mom's on the phone!" Opening the door, he called out, "Tell her I'll call her in 5 minutes, Chris!" Turning back to me, frustration was painted across his face, while his softening erection drained down his tight white underpants. After helping me dry off, Ronny quickly shed his cummy wet briefs, to quickly rinse himself and his underwear in the shower. The white triangle defined by year round swimming in a Speedo framed a huge dick about 4 inches soft. And clearly his regular shaving didn't stop with his legs, as his pubis and full sack were as bare as mine. I guess he was like my friend Zach, who depilated his groin for his girlfriend. I'd have to tell Ronny about sugar waxing. ================================================ As we sat up waiting for SNL the next night, we traded gentle kisses and lightly stroked the erections pounding through our soft, white underwear. Ronny easily adopted the Sanford family casual attitude toward clothing, stripping to his socks, briefs and t-shirt when he got back from his part-time job in the afternoon. But the 16 year-old had a surprise for me while we brushed our teeth. He'd stopped at a clothing store on the way and purchased a 4-pack of Fruit of the Looms with a size 28 waist. Though they were big on me, and my nuts threatened to flop out of the leg holes, they fit over my cast. And as he helped me into my soft new underpants, we agreed they beat boxers by a mile. "I like looking at your sexy little thighs, and your hot little ass," he purred, lightly pinching one of my cotton clad cheeks. "Hey, don't touch the merchandise, Mister," I said swatting his hand away. "Until later." Then I slapped his slender, muscular bottom. He grinned and pulled out a camera. "Your sooo cute, Robin. Can you take off your t-shirt and let me take a photo?" I laughed. What was it about pervs photographing me in my underwear? Pulling off my shirt, I coyly replied, "Only if you promise to beat off to it." Somewhere out there is a black-and-white shot of a skinny little 9th-grader in just a leg cast and briefs barely dented with the beginning of an erection. And it was that same boy under the blanket on the couch, twirling his fingertips around the throbbing head dampening the top of Ronny's underpants. The older boy turned onto his side to kiss cheek and jaw. His fingers slid up from my hardness to my skinny torso, and he traced circles around my slim stomach, and my hardening nipples. "Let's go upstairs to your room, Robin," the 16-year-old whispered into my ear. I smiled, but shook my head. "Saturday Night Live is on in an hour," I whispered back. "OK," Ronny replied, skeptically, then slid his head under the blanket, coming to rest on my thigh. His fingers snaked under the leg elastic and pulled my rigid 4-inches out, before slowly dragging his hot, wet tongue up and down my slender length. With two fingers inside the leg opening, he rolled my little balls, while treating my raging knob like a lollypop. Bent as Ronny was, I could no longer reach his groin, and instead slid my fingers around his slender six pack, and across his sinewy hip. Sealing his lips around my helmet, he sucked and licked my sensitive glans until I was squirming. "OK, dammit. Let's go upstairs!" I hissed, slapping his firm bottom. Shutting off the TV and hitting the lights, we were upstairs in minutes. With the door shut and in the filtered light of the moon, I let Ronny kiss me fully on the lips, as we squeezed each other's buns with both our hands. Then he helped me into my bed, carefully putting a pillow under my cast at the bend in my knee. Kneeling between my legs, Ronny slid his fingers up and and down my unbroken leg with one hand, while pressing his palm onto the front of my briefs with the other. His firm hand was electrically comforting and arousing as he kneaded my quaking prick through a tick, soft layer of cotton. I sighed, and pressed into his hand, rocking my hips with the same gentle rhythm. Ronny bent down, and dragged his tongue up my pulsing tent, then he pulled my little cock out of my fly, swirling his lips all along the watch tower. He was so talented, alternating kisses and licks all over my raging little boner, then taking me into his mouth. Sometimes, he would take all of me in, clamping his lips around the base of dick and nuts, throating me while tongue-swabbing my tight, smooth little scrotum. I was heaving and writhing, and I gasped for him to because my orgasm loomed. "Let me suck your big fucking cock," I heaved. He nodded, getting up. Studying my lithe little body, he rubbed the swollen snake pounding up the front of his snug, bone-white underwear. Then he shucked his briefs, releasing his thick, seven-inch teen bone. Straddling either side of my chest with his knees, his drooling snake bounced against my cheek. Eagerly, I grabbed him by the root, and swabbed his pre-cum with my tongue. It was strong flavored, and not to my liking. But I loved his moaning as I swallowed and sucked his knob clean. He was so thick, I could barely get him into my mouth, and could pull him in an inch or so. So I focused my cheeks and tongue on his knob, while massaging his big, bare balls with one hand, and stroking his huge hardness with all the fingers of my other. I could occasionally feel the subtle bumps of whiskers in his bald, shaven groin. Ronny was moaning, and breathing heavily in moments, and I could taste even more of his heady stew pouring into my mouth. Grunting, he got up to turn around, with his knees on either side of my head. His beefy teenage beast bounced off of my nose before I could grab and subdue it. Just as I kissed his pee-hole, I felt the front of my undies being pulled under my sensitive little sack. Then his mouth engulfed me again, sucking and licking me hard. I took each of his dangling balls into my mouth, one after the other, sucking for long moments while delicately tickling his head with my fingertips. He gasped, and so i continued working on his big, 16-year-old balls, while he mouth fucked my pre-pubescent 14-year-old dick. When I pulled his helmet back into my mouth, I heard him moan around my cock. He pulled off to warn me. "Gonna cum soon, Robin." I increased my suction and stroked him faster. I could feel his bald balls contracting in my hand and he moaned harder. My tongue and cheeks were cling-wrapped around his knob, while I fist milked him, and then he burst. A thick load of hot teen ejaculate filled my mouth. Ronny groaned, I swallowed quickly and a second jet filled my mouth. Again, and again he shot while I stroked, until finally he softened in my mouth. "Oh fuck, Robin," he whispered up at me, "I don't think I've ever come so hard." "I've never swallowed as much cum," I replied, sincerely. A moment later, Ronny's mouth contracted around my stem, and he took his time masturbating me with his mouth. I was quivering and desperately needed to blow, but as it turned out, he loved little boy cock too much to give me immediate release. Whenever I came close, and my breathing got harder, he pulled off of my, kissing the insides of my thighs, and then each of my nuts. It was excruciating. "Please...Ronny. I need to cum!" I begged quietly. Chuckling, he moistened a finger with his mouth, then reached into my briefs, behind my nuts, and worked it around my tight little anus. As he slowly circled my drain, he pulled my dick again into his mouth. My thighs locked and I shivered, as my little volcano filled with fire. When his finger plunged into me and pressed my acorn, I could have shrieked. My little nuts squeezed inside Ronny's palm, and my thin drops launched into Ronny's voracious maw. As dry, itchy fire plumed out of my dick, my world shattered into night.