Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2019 02:58:13 +0000 From: kleiner.gespenst Subject: Robins Adventures | Part 39 | Date Night Robin's Adventures - Part 39 | Date Night ================================ Hey there. If you're hand is free, please type in a contribution to: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ================================= Mark was still out of school with chicken pox most of the week after my parents came home. I'd already had them, and would have gone over to visit, except my broken leg kept me on crutches. But we talked every night on the phone. Back in the 70s, this meant the one land line everyone in a house shared, so we'd eventually get kicked off by one or another's parents. When he finally returned to St. Joseph's Academy, he only had a few crusty blisters showing, and he said he'd only scratched one on his chest, leaving a small, permanent scar. We'd caught up in the library during a study period, and we slipped behind some stacks to kiss passionately. Balancing on crutches, it was awkward for me, and I couldn't wrap my arms around the willowy boy. I wanted to hold his jaw with both hand, draped in his collar-length, straight jet black hair, and kiss his freckled little nose. But I could only sway, hanging onto my crutches, and the blood left my head. He was kneading my skinny buns with both hands, while our tongues wrestled, and we moaned into each other's mouths. "I've missed you so much, Robin," he whispered into my ear. "I love you so much, man," I whispered back. "But you're making me hard as a rock! We should go do our homework." Mark gave me a mischievous smile, and nodded. "OK. Let's study." Finding seats at an empty table in the back of the library, we opened our books. But it was only moments before I felt Mark's hand running up and down the inside of my thigh. "Mark!" I hissed. "Stop that." "Maaark, stop that" he whined, imitating me, then giggled. In moments, his hand was inside the gray sweat pants St. Joe's let me wear while my broken leg mended in a cast. Mark's fingers slid through the fly of my borrowed boxers. He was gripping my tumescence by the root, and I was loving it. We were in public, and someone might see, and it only made me harder in his firm clasp. "I've really missed holding you," he whispered. "It's been years since I've felt your dick," I whispered back, and slid my hand across his lap. His 13-year-old cock snaked forcefully up the front of his gray school trousers. I unzipped his fly, and and slid my fingers in. With a thumb and forefinger, I stroked his quaking pole through his pillowy soft briefs. He shuddered, and stroked me harder. Staring at our books as if the words were more than blurry blobs, we stifled our moans, and it became a race to see who could make the other cum faster. A couple of students came out of a row of stacks, and we froze for a few moments. When they left, we giggled, and resumed our stroking. I pulled him faster through his dampening undies, and his fingers were making skin-on-skin friction with my puny penis. I could feel my climax building, and I was sure I would lose the race. But then his whispered moans grew faster, and I felt his dick lurch in my fingers. His briefs grew wet with 3 jets of his thin, clear ejaculate. I wanted to clean him with my tongue, but that thought was buried under the white fire pillaging my loins. I strangled a scream of pleasure and love, as stars burst across my vision, and I fell forward onto my "work." =================== Mark arrived at our house just before dinner that night. His very protective father, a former combat Marine, might not have let Mark out on sleepover so soon after illness. And he wasn't completely happy that Mark was going surfing with my 17-year-old sister in the now frigid San Diego waters. But since both of my parents were doctors, Paul knew he was leaving his son in good hands. Still, he insisted Mark and I go to bed early. That would not be a problem for either of us. It was bath night for me, and Mark was more than eager to take over the responsibility of washing me from my family. I'm sure they were pretty tired of it, too. While the water filled the tub, we shucked our clothes in my room. Mark helped me out of mine, laughing at the jumbo boxers I had to borrow from Lori's boyfriend Jeremy. My mom didn't want to buy new underwear just to fit over my cast for 8 weeks, so I wore ridiculous big boy underwear that hung almost to my knees. We were both glad to be rid of them in a flash. I hadn't seen Mark's willowy naked body in a couple of weeks, and I was instantly hard at the site of my 13-year-old friend's slender fitness. We'd lost our summer tans, but his hands, feet and face were dark from surfing with a full wetsuit. And his creamy skin had an even paler patch where his Speedo hid him from the sun during swim practice. It was a triangle emphasizing his sinewy "V," all pointing to a still hairless, pubescent cock. Groups of crusty little red spots were sprinkled across his body, the remnants of chicken pox. They were smeared with clouds of dried, pink Calamine Lotion. I didn't care. He was so girlishly beautiful I could have gobbled him up. Though a year younger than me, and though we were the same general size, he was growing up faster than me. My mom's family were notoriously late bloomers, and though I was 14, people mistook me for 12. His hardening cock grew to its full 5 inches, twice as thick as mine, and he dragged his eyes up and down my skinny body. We giggled at our mutual desire, telegraphed in the pulse-twitching lurches as our boners waved at each other. As fast as possible under the circumstances, Mark got me into the hot bath, then climbed in between my legs. Propping my cast up with his shoulder, Mark knelt to kiss me lightly, then passionately on the lips. I couldn't believe how much pleasure could be shared through soft, gentle mouth communication. I grabbed my new favorite thing - Dr. Bronner's Peppermint soap - and lathered up my hands. "That smells good," Mark purred into my ear, before plunging his tongue in. I squeaked, and my hardness grew impossibly harder, then I grasped his hairless 5 inches by the crown. As I gently rubbed in the tingly, stinging minty soap, Mark's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and he quietly mewled, almost falling onto me. Mark quickly grabbed the Bronner's bottle, and lathered his hands, plunging them into the water to massage my tender knob. As the tingly soap hit, I arched my back and I couldn't help but cry out. It felt so good!! Mark knelt into a very awkward position so that our dick could meet, and he could prop my leg out of the tub with his shoulder. Brushing aside my hand, he took our two cocks together, his an inch longer and twice as thick. They pulsated together with joy and passion and love, resolute in crystalline hardness. Sharp edged heat flared as our dicks were sandwiched in Mark's hands. Furiously, hungrily, angrily, he stroked us together, scrubbing our dick meat to minty freshness. The wet friction and sparkles billowed, and just as I grit my teeth to strangle my explosive cry, something hot and wet splattered across my face, and I fell into darkness. ====================================== After I came to, many minutes later, we actually spent a long time cleaning each other, inch by tender inch. He turned to sit with his back to me, so I could carefully wash his dark, beautiful hair, then carefully wash his healing back. Then, he stood up so I could wash his rump, and spent a long time cleaning the cleft between his firm little globes. I wanted to work a finger into him, and was already hard again. But there was a knock on the door, and my sister told us she needed to pee. She could have used any of the other toilets in the house, but I think it was her way of letting us know we'd been in there for more than an hour. After we dried off, and hung our towels, Mark gathered our clothes walked ahead of me to my room. He'd quickly adopted our more European, clothing-optional lifestyle, and didn't think anything of passing Lorie naked as she walked the other direction. But he wasn't ready for what I'd come expect. Her arm windmilled, smacking him sharply on his left butt cheek. "Hey!" he cried out. "Get a move on, Kessler," she laughed. "I'm going out in a few minutes, and your dad wants Calamine on you." For some reason, that meant Lori or my parents handling a really dumb little task. After what happened at the cult Mark's family had lived with, his dad was a little over protective. And since my parents left for a Christmas party, that meant Lori was on lotion duty. In my room, Mark reached into his backpack for a fresh pair of bone-white briefs. At my dresser, I pulled out my usual weekend uniform - an oversized SA Zurich jersey that hung almost to my knees. I tossed another one to Mark, then pulled out a pair of the size 28 Fruit of the Looms my babysitter Ronny had bought me. The 16-year-old said they were sexier than Jeremy's boxers. They were big and a little baggy on me, but they fit over my cast. "Huh - borrowing someone else's undies?" Mark asked, as he bent over to help me into the soft, snow white briefs. As he pulled them up, sliding his fingers around to make adjustments, I hardened again. Then I took a few moments to tell him how my parents insisted my little brother and I have a sitter while they took Lori and Jeremy to visit colleges in the Bay Area, in case of an emergency. And how that 16-year-old spent most of the weekend with his hands down my pants. I held my breath, worried he would be angry. I needn't have given it any concern. He just grinned. "So you were molested by your baby sitter? Been there, done that." My jaw must have dropped, because he giggled, gently slapped my cotton clad bum, then worked a finger into the lightly gripping elastic leg hole. "I prefer you in your sexy little panties," he said, using his nickname for the sheer little European briefs that would have ripped apart if pulled over my cast. "But at least now I can feel you up." Promising to tell me his babysitter story later, he walked to Lori's room, carrying the Jersey he'd wear later. I went down stairs to join Chris in the den. =================================== We only watched a little TV. Nothing great was on in the days before cable became a thing. And Chris was nodding out by 9, the time we promised Paul we'd go to bed. After trudging upstairs, taking turns peeing and brushing our teeth, I couldn't wait to climb back into bed, and make love to my boyfriend. In my room, I pulled off my jersey, and sat, waiting for Mark. He came in a few minutes later, shedding his jersey. He carried a towel, closed the door and turned off the lights. He'd already whispered his need for a good fucking, and figured he'd been cleaning his bowels with the squeeze bottle we kept hidden in the bathroom. As I got out the bottle of lube from my dresser, Mark pulled back the bedding and laid down the towel. I was tired of sleeping on my back, so Mark fluffed up the throw pillows and folded a blanket on them for extra height. Then I lay down on my side, with my broken leg elevated under my knee and calf. I was already rigid when Mark lay down facing me. It was chilly, and he pulled the sheet and duvet over us, then leaned in to touch his lips to mine. "I love you so much it hurts, Mark," I whispered. "I love you more, Robin." Then we kissed long and deeply. Our minty tongues met to twine and press and explore. His fingertips gently twirled around my slender chest, running along my ribs, and then stopped to tweak my hardening little nipples. I sighed, running my hands through his longish, jet hair. I could have stayed like that all night, expressing the love I felt for a boy a year younger than me. For the millionth time, I was thankful we'd met at the rec center swim team. Mark's hand down to my inner thigh, barely grazing the throbbing lump stretching my soft, white underpants. As we kissed into the night, I brought my hand down his tightly defined, slender torso to his cotton clad hip. I traced circles around his hip, enjoying the warmth of his bare skin, then the soft woven texture encasing his sinewy pelvis. I slid a finger under his stretchy elastic leg hole, and dragged it back to his firm little mounds, then forward and down to his steaming l little basket. Mark moaned in my mouth as my knuckle came into contact with his straining, pubescent bag. My thumb joined my finger, so I could gently roll one of his testicles around, teasing him delightfully. Squirming, Mark brought his hand to the front of my briefs, twirling fingertips around the crown of pulsating desire. I sighed, and kissed him harder, pressing my tongue back into his mouth. Using his lips to fellatiate up and down my tongue, he squeezed my stalk and and stroked me through my briefs. I moaned and reached into his underpants to grip Mark firmly by the stem, and stroked him in time. Suddenly, Mark broke off. "Fuck me, Robin. I want your cock in my ass. now!" As I reached over for the bottle of lube, Mark peeled the front of my soft, loose briefs below my quivering, smooth young nuts. Rolling over to face away from me, he pulled his own undies down below his creamy buns. I took a moment to tickle and squeeze his firm, round little globes, gently dragging my fingernails as well. They felt like grapefruits made of boy. I greased up my hand, and slid it into his slender bottom, sliding up and down his hungry crevice. Then I slowly worked a finger around his clenching ring, kissing his shoulder while I patiently worked my digit in. He sighed as I slowly fingered him, gently pressing back with his hips. I took a while to work in a second finger, moving in and out of his clenching little hole. "Use your dick," Mark whispered. "Fuck my tight little boy hole!" He loved to talk dirty, though we didn't really have much of a vocabulary. "Do you want it, baby?" I whispered back. "Beg me for my cock." "Shove your big fat dick in me, please!" I almost choked. At a 4 slender inches, I had anything but a "big fat dick." I slid my fingers out, and lubed my quivering little penis. "Here it comes, you naughty little boy," I whispered into his ear, I lined up my slippery little eel against his anus with my fingers, and slowly slid into his hot, clenching meat hole. We both moaned when my barren nuts came to rest against his firm bottom. We rested for a moment, and Mark clasped and unclasped me with his bowels. My with dick pounded inside his hot, moist oven, and I hugged him with one arm draped over his chest. Then I snaked my other army under the pillows, holding him from below. Kissing his ear through his black hair, I whispered, "I wish my dick lived in your ass." "Less talking. More fucking!" he whispered. Carefully, I started with micro strokes, making sure Mark was OK. "Fuck me hard, Robin. Fuck my butt!" I didn't want to slide out of him by accident, so I mostly kept my hips in contact with Mark's. But I started plowing him harder, faster. Gradually with his coaching, I was slamming into his bottom, and my room was filled with the echoes of softly slapping flesh, and young boy moans. Slam! Slam! Slam! Mark thrust his butt back to meet me with every stroke, and a hand to grasp him lightly by the stem. I stroked him 5 or 6 times, before I heard his cries climbing in pitch. He groaned something unintelligible, and I felt his penis vomiting. Cupping my fingers around his raging head to catch his syrup, I felt his bowels grinding my meat. And that's all it took to pull white raging fire out of me. My tiny little nuts strained to eject the tiny drop of seed they could produce. I grit my teeth to silence a scream in my skinny diaphragm, as stars exploded behind my clenching eyes. =========================================== "Robin. Robin. Robin," I heard Mark whispering. "Mmmmrrrrph," I grunted, without opening my eyes. "What time...?" "It's almost 10," he replied. "Your dad's making breakfast." "10...?" My bleary eyes slid open to a daylight-drenched room. I'd slept almost 12 hours. I was still on my side, and my underpants were back, securely over my junk. Mark's hair was damp from a shower, and he was pulling on a fresh pair of bone-white briefs. I loved his slender thighs, compressed by his striped waistband. His chicken pox blisters had almost disappeared. Somehow, he'd gotten up to surf at dawn with Lori and Jeremy, without waking me. I was envious. No surfing - or any sports - for another six weeks. He helped me up, before pulling on the soccer jersey I always loaned him on sleepovers. It was the SA Zurich away shirt. I pulled on the home game jersey, which fell halfway down my skinny little thighs. "Hey sleepy head," my dad said, as we entered the kitchen. "Hungry?" I grunted a yes, and sat next to my little brother. Lori poured me juice, just as Jeremy came in. Unlike we three younger boys, he was fully dressed, since he had to leave for work. We slapped hands, and he took a cup of coffee from my dad. I loved breakfast with my family. Unfortunately, my mom was at work. As medical researchers, she and my dad sometimes ended up at their labs on Saturdays. After filling up on eggs, bacon and toast, Chris, Mark and I brushed our teeth. Lori put more Calamine on Mark, then we all hung out in the den to watch college football (the American kind). It was a little chilly. But rather than put on anything more than our undies and jerseys, we huddled together under a blanket on the couch. At some point, my dad left to read in the yard, Jeremy left for his job, and Lori got bored and went up to her room to practice guitar. I fell asleep with Chris curled around me on one side, and Mark curled on the other, with his head on my chest. Something woke me. Something familiar. Hard lumps were pressing into my hips from either side, grinding slowly, methodically. At the same time, Mark's hand was in my undies, slowly stroking my raging stalk. "Taking advantage of a sleeping boy?" I muttered. "He started it," whispered Mark. Chris giggled. My almost 11-year-old brother had unconsciously started humping me, through his sheer little European briefs. Mark had noticed, became instantly aroused, and followed suit. I nodded, smiling, and closed my eyes. I lost myself in the gentle rhythms of humping and stroking, relishing the soft cotton cloaked penises pillaging me. Mark's sure, methodical fingers pumped and pulled my prepubescence. I felt Chris suddenly stab hard into me, grunting quietly. His orgasm punched mine out of my straining, bald scrotum. The white itchy fire plumed, and a bead of moisture drooled into Mark's hand, before I fell again into darkness. ============================================== We napped, and watched more football, then did homework through the end of that lazy day. At some point, Chris left for a sleepover at his friend Trevor's. My mom came home, and she and my dad got ready for a bunch of holiday parties. Before they left, my dad prepped up some dinner for Mark and me. "All you have to do is grill the steaks, when you're hungry," he said. As they left, my mom told us they wouldn't be back before midnight. Then Jeremy came in, looking for Lori. She was dressed sharply, and said they were leaving for a party, as well. Just before walking out of the kitchen, she smiled. "Have a nice date night, boys," she said, and winked. "Date night?" I wondered, looking at Mark. "Dude, do you think it's just coincidence we have the place to ourselves?" He grinned at me, then bit hi lower lip mischievously. "And that means getting dressed up." Obviously, he'd had a plan, and my sister was in on it, if not the rest of my family. "Go up to your room, Robin. I laid own some things for you," Mark said quietly, grinning with delight. "If you need help, holler. I'll be getting dressed in Lori's room." I hobbled up, curious for what awaited me. Closing the door, I saw a carefully folded pile of clothes. A girl's pink mini kilt. A tight pink t-shirt. A single pink, thigh-high nylon stocking for my good leg. And special underwear. Now I understood why I heard my sister's sewing machine earlier. She'd made pink lace panties that opened on one side with a button. The lace was antique, hand-made, and very soft. I laughed and shook my head. My boyfriend could be such a weirdo, and my sister was a weirdo-enabler. She remains my best friend. It took a while to get dressed, but I was determined to do it by myself. Reaching down to pull my new panties up my good leg took some work. And when they came to rest, gripping me snugly on one hip, I buttoned up the other side. The soft texture against my young boy cock had me instantly hard. I could have stroked myself to an immediate orgasm. But I held off, Finishing dressing, I noticed a lipstick on the bed. Of course, it was a matching pink, and I used the mirror to finish my very femme ensemble. Hobbling down to the kitchen with my crutches, I heard a gasp. Mark's eyes grew as wide as mine, and he smiled, dragging his eyes up and down my pink arrangement. My jaw dropped as I took in Mark's date-night outfit. He matched me in every way, except he work black, including lipstick, matching his hair. He'd also applied black eyeliner, accentuating his liquid eyes. His soft and feminine features pulled at my heart, while his cute little kilt, barely covering his loins, pulled at my cock. "You look so beautiful," I croaked. "You, too," Mark whispered. "I thought of dressing you in yellow, to match your hair. But you look really pretty in pink." It came out he'd been planning a night like this for a couple of weeks, and he'd hit some thrift shops with Lori one weekend. The lace came from a variety of old curtains she'd found. We forgot about dinner. Mark helped me lie down on the den rug. As he stood over me, I smiled at the sight of his lean legs outlined in black women's hose. They reached just below his mini skirt, where a few inches of pale flesh lead to black, lace panties. "You're sexier than the hottest girl in San Diego," Mark whispered, as he lay down beside me. When we cross-dressed, neither of us wanted to be girls. We just liked the weird feeling of feminine sexuality running through our tender young boners. "No, you're hotter," I replied, improvising. "You're my dirty little slut boy." "Am I?" he smirked, batting his carefully made up eyelashes. "Do you want my slutty little cock?" I could only nod. Then his lips met mine, and we kissed tenderly for long moments. I didn't have the mobility, so he draped one of his sexy lean legs over my hose-wrapped leg. The smooth silkiness of nylon on nylon was driving me wild, and I moaned as our tongues met. I pulled him to me with both hands, running them around his slender back. His fingers slid down my front, to my little skirt, then reached underneath. I groaned as his index finger stroked my length through those soft, textured panties. I slid one of my hands between us, pulling up his skirt, to find his quaking, drooling hardness stretching his soft, silky underwear. I wish we'd been able to take our time, but we wanted each other ferociously, and Mark pulled himself on top of me. I squeezed his firm round rump with all my fingers, pulling him into me. Our skirts bunched up under our tummies, as our hard young cocks met to grind through soft, antique lace. "Hump my pretty pink panties!" I huffed, and Mark started thrusting into me. "I'm gonna pound your dick so hard," he wheezed. Back and forth he ground into me. Harder, faster, our softly-cloaked, richly-texted undies buffed and burnished our knobs and our shafts and our balls and our minds. I thrust into Mark to meet his every pump, and the friction built inside. "Gonna cum so hard, Mark," I cried. "Hold on Robin! I'm almost there!" he said, as he pillaged my boyhood faster. But I couldn't hold it. I groaned as I felt my nuts contracting, "I...can't...hold it!" "Cum for me baby!" Mark yelled. "I'm cuuuumrrrraaaaaaaahhhhhh!" I screamed, as my little cock erupted. A hot missile launched from my loins jetting a tiny bead of moisture into my panties. I groaned again and again as my penis then pulsed drily over and over. I almost blacked out, but through dizzy eyes saw Mark's eyes clench shut. Shouting my name, he plowed one last time into my groin. I felt wetness soaking through to my cock, as he shot two or three times, then collapsed onto me. Slowly, we both caught out breath, and I could feel his sweat mix with mine in our shirts. As it cooled, and our cocks softened, we both sighed. Mark's head rested on my shoulder, and I combed my fingers through his silky black hair. So soft. So sexy. At last, Mark helped me up, and we smiled at each other, straightening our skirts. We giggled, checking out the lipstick smeared around our faces and necks. As I started getting dinner together, Mark took a washcloth to both of us, then reapplied both our lipstick. We pulled on jackets to go out back and grill the steaks. The Pacific fog had rolled in, and it was getting cold. As I balanced on a crutch with one arm, tending the steaks, Mark wrapped his arms around me from behind. He brought stability to me in more ways than one. I relished the feeling of his goosebumps on the thin strip of flesh between his skirt and his hose pressing into mine. With salad, cold German potato salad and steaks, we sat at the breakfast table. As I gazed at my gorgeous boyfriend, I also realized I was famished, having only snacked since breakfast. We joked and giggled as we wolfed down dinner. At some point, I felt Mark's toes reaching up under my kilt, tickling my genitals. I laughed, and stretched my foot up to tickle his already rigid panty bone. It was a good thing we were just about finished with eating, because we started pressing into each other with our feet, massaging each other's erections. Mark's softly calloused foot felt so good, I reached down with both hands to pull him harder into me. He grabbed my foot as well. Soon, we were gasping as we masturbated ourselves with each other's feet and soft lace. It was so weird and hot pulling him up and down my erection. Our moans became more desperate, and Mark was almost grimacing. Then his piping went up in pitch and he shook, and I felt dampness against my foot. At the same time, my four inches of pantie-clad boyhood slid partially between his big and second toe. The pressure of the two digits grinding the length of my lace-trapped tube was too much, and I groaned and cried loudly. My drained little scrotum squeezed into me, and my pre-pubescence fired drily into my pink, girly underpants. I shuddered and moaned as I pulsed a few more times, then almost dropped my dizzy face into my dinner place. Groggily I looked up at Mark, who stared with a look of dazed amusement, catching his own breath. "Well, that was weird," I said, and we both giggled. ====================================== After cleaning up the dinner mess from our plates and panties, we went back to the den. Diamonds Are Forever" was on NBC. Back before VCR's, before cable and way before the internet, it was an event when even old big screen movies played on the networks. We settled on the couch with Cokes. I lay length-wise, with my head in Mark's lap. As the movie played, he absently ran his fingers through my collar-length blond hair with one hand, and stroking my skinny tummy with the other. During commercial breaks, Mark would lean down to kiss me tenderly. We nibbled each other lips, and glided our tongues to taste each other's lipstick. Maybe halfway thought the movie, Mark's hand slid from my tummy, down my thigh, then caressed up under my skirt. Slowly, gently, he tickled a new erection in my panties. I felt his hardness poking into the back of my head, as he delicately teased my lace-strangled hard-on. During commercial breaks, our kissing became more urgent, and focusing on the movie was torturous, almost like a chastity device. Finally, I'd had enough. "Let's go upstairs, Mark." He nodded hungrily. "Yeah man. Fuck James Bond." As I hobbled upstairs to pee, brush my teeth and wash my face, Mark shut things off downstairs. I waited for him in my bedroom while he hit the bathroom. When he came in, we shut off the lights. I wanted to strip his clothes off, but I couldn't keep my balance. So he slowly striped me to my panties, palming my turgid pole and rubbing me a little bit through the lace, while he kissed me gently. Then he pulled off my girly underpants, and pulled down the bedcovers, reveling our forgotten sex towel. He helped me lie down on it. Then, in the pale, fog-filtered moonlight, he did a slow strip tease. When he was down to his thigh-high hose, and lacy black panties, he teased me by running a finger up and down the front of his undies. Islands of pale flesh were vaguely reflected through the sections of lace, but I couldn't see the rigid pole I knew pounded against his silky, meshy undies. I begged him to get naked and get in bed, and he chuckled at my eagerness. Slowly, he lowered his underpants, releasing his bald five inches to spring in the milky air. When his panties dropped to his ankles, he straddled my chest, with knees on either side. He leaned forward so his turgid boy pole could bounce against my eyelid, he giggled again. "See anything you like?" I slapped his firm little bottom, and laughed as well. "I want you, baby." Then I tenderly prodded his pee-hole with my tongue, tasting his thin pre-cum beginning to fountain again. With both hands, I caressed up and down his skin-tight nylons, from his ankles to his thigh hem, while I sealed my lips around his knob. I worked his thick crown with my tongue and cheeks, and Mark moaned, clutching my hair with both fists. While I continued to trace one of his legs with my fingertips, I used my other hand to gently fondle his swollen little plum sack. I slid more of him into me, until he was almost into my throat, then slid back. Using my tongue and the sides of my mouth, I worked almost all of him for many minutes. Mark licked a thumb and forefinger, and reached back to rub my inflamed and sensitive little head with delicate circles. I moaned into his meat, and Mark was gasping as I sucked him harder. Then, he stopped me, pulling out of my mouth. "I almost came," he heaved. "I don't want to cum yet." Resting both hands on my shoulders, he leaned down to kiss me gently. Then he whispered, "Will you fuck me again, beautiful boy?" "Oh yeah," I nodded dreamily. "Let me fuck your gorgeous ass, baby." Mark got up and strode over to my dresser to pull out my bottle of lube. Then, laughing, he also pulled out the small, boy-sized vibrating dildo my cousin gave me in Munich that summer. 
"This could come in handy," he smirked. Putting the lube next to me, Mark straddled me again, this time with his firm little bottom resting below my crotch, so that our throbbing boy poles hugged each other once more. Turning on the the vibrator, Mark traced it around my nipples, making me gasp. Slowly, he teased, tracing the vibrator around my torso, eventually reaching my thrumming prong. When it hit my tip, my hips involuntarily punched upwards, and I cried out. It was like being shocked, and I was writhing while Mark lightly traced up and down my quaking length. "Stop! Please!" I begged, telling him I was about to come. I took the toy away from him, as I caught my breath and pulled back from the abyss. Then it was my turn to torture his nipples, making him moan. His head rocked all the back, almost to his shoulders, while I traced circles around his slender little abs. His slender throat would have made the perfect meal for a homo vampire. Mark groaned with anticipation when I brought the little dildo down his bare pubic mound. I teased him for only a moment, before gliding it from his root to his tip and back. Mark cried out loudly, and the vibrator tapped his penis down against mine, as if being hit with a jack hammer. A thin stream of drool pumped out of love nozzle. By the time I traced his length twice, he pulled my hand away. "Dammit!" he gasped. "That thing's evil!" I laughed and agreed, then Mark leaned forward to kiss me some more. After our tongues played, Mark rested his head next to mine, sighing. I opened the lube and slicked up my fingers. Reaching up between Marks thighs, I lightly massaged his straining nuts with my greasy hand, then slicked upward along his crevice. Mark kissed and nuzzled my ear and jaw, while I slowly worked my fingers into his hole. When his hips started rocking back into my fingers, he whispered he was ready. I lubed my quivering four inches. Kneeling back, Mark spread his firm, slender globes with both hands, lowering toward my awaiting prick. Using one hand to guide his hips, and the other to guide my love gun, I docked with his anus. We slipped a couple of times, but eventually, I was slurped into his hot, wet boy hole. Mark settled all the way until his creamy buttocks rested against my bald pubic mound, and we both groaned. Slowly rocking up and forward, then settling back down, Mark began ass fucking my swollen boy hood with his clenching bottom. Occasionally squeezing me with his rectum, he pulled gasps and moans from my helpless body. Gradually, he built up speed, until he was almost bouncing off of me, and I thrust up to meet him rhythmically. I slid my hand hands from his sinewy, stocking-wrapped thighs, past his slender hips, to grip both of his rubbery buns with each hand. I pulled him down with each of my upthrusts. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" he moaned, and I responded with gasps of "Yes! Yes! Yes!" I lost myself and couldn't control how good his meat tunnel felt squeezing me for dear life, and I felt my climax building. I tried to get Mark to stop, but he refused. "Come for me, baby!" he gasped. I screamed as my hips lunged into him, and an almost painful orgasm flared out of me. My nuts strained drily and I heaved dizzily. And yet I never softened. A lifetime of swimming, ballet and gymnastics showed by Mark's steady, unwavering pounding. His hosiery-clad thighs were like machines, tireless plowing my little cock with his tightly gripping anus. I reached to squeeze his now sweat-drenched buttocks, squeezing them with every thrust. "Spank me! Spank me! Spank me!" he breathlessly heaved, as his head bobbled back and forth. So i did, rhythmically slapping one, then the other creamy globe. My cock was agonizingly hard, and my room filled with the familiar sound of slapping flesh. Sweat was pouring down Mark's muscular torso, and his head rolled while he moaned with determination. Still spanking him with one hand I reached with the other to grip his 5 inches, stroking it from his bald, 13-year-old base. "Oh, yes, Robin," he cried out, "Gonna cum soon. Cum with me, baby!" "I don't think I can," I gasped. That wasn't good enough for my boyfriend's uncompromising ardor. Without stopping his savage pumping, he grabbed the dildo, wet it with his mouth, and reached back to slide it between my buns. I gasped as it roughly slid a little bit past my tightly clenching ring. Then Mark flicked the switch, and I felt the beat in my nuts and ass. "Ohhhhhh!" I yelled. Within seconds, my hairless little walnut tightened, and the dry damned burst. I shrieked again, plunging as deep as I could into Mark, just as he screamed unintelligibly back. His cock spewed twice, hurling thin jets of watery goo onto my face and torso. Once again, I almost black out. Dizzily, I caught my breath, while Mark lay his head next to mine. "Can you please take that thing out of me?" I begged him, and he chuckled, relieving me of my anal torment. As our sweat chilled, Mark pulled the bedding over us again, and we snuggled up for a well-earned sleep.