Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2019 07:36:18 +0000
From: gy2n34+cqjv8a3wge1qs@guerrillamail.com
Subject: Robin's Adventures ? Part 5 | G <YF>

Having just snuck out of school at lunch into a hidden shrub, I'd made out
with a my new 8th grade boyfriend Jason. I was excited about a sleepover at
his place, the next night, but as the day wore on, I had trouble
concentrating on things, and I started getting a splitting headache.

By the time I got home, I had to lie down, and quickly fell asleep. I
didn't feel much better when my sister woke me up for dinner. My mom took
one look at me and said, "you don't look well. Can you try and eat a
little?"

I tried getting down a few bites of chicken and vegetables, but quickly
asked to be excused, and I brushed my teeth, stripped off my pants and went
to bed. Sometime later, I lurched awake and ran to the bathroom, puking my
guts out. I must have been loud, because my dad materialized behind me, and
gently rubbed my back. "Poor little guy, you really are sick."

I nodded, flushed the bowl, and got up to rinse my mouth out. "You climb
back into bed and I'll get a thermometer." A few minutes later, he came
into my room with the thermometer and a plastic pail. After previous
experience, I didn't need to be told that if I couldn't make it to the
bathroom, this was next choice for vomiting. After taking my temperature,
my dad told me I had a low-grade fever just a moment before I sprinted back
to the bathroom for explosive diarrhea.

I was miserable, and as I got back into bed, my dad sat in my easy chair,
while my mom felt my forehead. "Looks like stomach flu, Robin." My head
hurt, and I was shivering, and I felt awful. My brother and sister came to
check on me, as I fitfully dozed. My dad was reading a book, and would help
me to the can when I'd need to explode from one or the other end. I finally
started barfing into the pail, because I was too weak to get up. Sometime
that night, I didn't make it to the bathroom in time to poo. I was starting
to cry when my dad came in and got me cleaned up.

"Robbie, you're really ill. It's not your fault," he gently said. "I think
we should just let you sleep."

He reached into a cabinet and got out a couple of the diapers my brother
needed for his bed-wetting problem. Then I really started to bawl. "This is
so embarrassing, dad!"

He hugged me, while insisting it wasn't my fault, and that it was a pretty
serious case of the flu. When I was a little calmer, I got into position,
and he folded the two pieces of cloth, and had me pinned and in plastic
pants in seconds. It turned out this was the best course of action, as I
had become so weak, I could barely bend over to boot into the pail, much
less control my bowels.

My dad slept next to me on my queen sized bed, and as I drifted in and out
of sleep. I know he cleaned and changed me a couple of times. I'm sure it
was disgusting, and he was such a hero.

In the morning, my mom took over, taking the day off from work, and sitting
in a chair while I shivered and dozed through crazy fever
dreams. Occasionally, she'd have me suck on a moist wash cloth to get some
hydration going, taking my temperature, and asking me how I
felt. Eventually, I ran out of anything but bile to puke or poop. Nobody in
our family was modest, and I never minded being naked around my mom. But I
was still humiliated when she changed my diapers. By then, I'd been
urinating as well, and had been cleaned off so much I was getting
chaffed. So, I just hope I didn't get an erection when she put on the
cream. At the time, I couldn't care less.

Some time in the afternoon, I stopped vomiting and fell into a deep
sleep. I thought I heard the doorbell. Eventually, I woke up in
sweat-drenched sheets. Just then, my mom tip-toed into the room, and saw I
was awake. Noticing I was covered in sweat, she got me out of bed and into
a robe.

"Looks like you might have broken your fever," she said, before shoving a
thermometer into my mouth, and leaving to get dry bedding. Checking it a
few minutes later, she confirmed the fever was over. I still felt awful,
but not really nauseous. She'd drawn a bath, and got me into it, before
leaving to change my sheets and blanket. Coming in a few minutes later, she
said,

"By the way Robin, your friend Jason stopped by this afternoon."

For the first time, I felt some of the self-pity lift. "He did?"

"Yeah. He also called last night. But you were too sick to come to the
phone."

"So why didn't you let him in?" I stupidly demanded.

She gave me a funny look, and then smiled and said, "Well, for one thing,
you're still sick and you need your rest. For another, you don't want to
give it to him, do you?"

I shook my head, "No."

"He was really concerned. He seems like a very nice boy."

Suddenly, I was animated, telling her all about the smart, gorgeous tennis
player, and how his mom was also a doctor, and his dad was an engineer with
Lockheed. I went on for too long, because she gave me that funny look
again, and smiled. "So, if I can break away from your musings for a minute,
I'll get you some ginger ale."

I stopped vomiting, but the diarrhea didn't fade until the next day. So, my
folks kept me in diapers until then, though I didn't need them. I'd pull
them down to piss or shit, and was really glad to be back in underpants and
a t-shirt by Saturday night. By then, my little 9-year old brother came
down with it. Like me, Chris grew progressively weaker, and had trouble
controlling his bowels with this bout of the flu. Since he was already in
diapers because of his bed wetting, he didn't need to leave his bed. I was
in charge of cleaning and changing him. It was so gross. But he's such a
great guy (then and now), that I didn't really mind.

I tried calling Jason on Sunday, but his mom said he was in bed, sick. That
night, my parents came down with it. As I found out the next day, a lot of
the students and teachers at my middle school were also stricken. And by
the end of the week, so had much of the town, and my older sister, Lori. It
was an actual shit show.

Jason got back to school midweek, but we weren't able to get together
alone. After gym, and during lunch, we'd secretly hold hands while we
talked. He was so hot. I drowned in those liquid pools of green staring
back into my eyes, framed by his long, shaggy brown hair.

"How sick were you, Jase?"

"It was awful. I even shit my pants, once."

"You're not the only one. Glad it's over."

Though I longed to see him after school, he had practice every day, and was
going to LA for the weekend for a tournament. He called me Sunday after he
got back, bursting with the news that he'd come in third for his age
group. I whooped like an idiot. My parents stared, shook their heads and
went back to their own business.

"I can't wait to see you," I said very quietly.

"I can't wait to see you. So, sleepover next Saturday?"

"Yeah, let me check. Hold on." Holding the phone, I got my folks permission
to stay at Jason's the following weekend. Stoked, I let him know, and he
told me all about his matches, and then we talked basketball until my dad
told me not to hog the phone. How different the world was before answering
machines, much less cellphones.

Before dinner, while I was working on a drawing, my mom came in. She still
did laundry for Chris and me, and carried mine in, and started putting it
away.

"Oh, Robin."

I turned as she held up a pair of white Fruit-of-the-Looms. Bigger than my
European undies, they were clearly not mine.

"Who's are these?"

"Uh, Jason's." I could feel myself blushing, "We traded."

"Oh, OK, weirdo. Do you like this kind?"

"No. I like the kind you get."

"OK, whatever. Dinner's in 30 minutes."

After dinner and TV, I brushed my teeth, and grabbed a bottle of baby oil
from my brother's changing supplies. I'd thought of this when getting him
diapered for the night. Closing the door, and turning off the lights, I
opened my underwear drawer and pulled out Jason's underpants. Snowy white,
they almost glowed in the dark.

I pulled off my t-shirt, and climbed into bed in just my briefs. As I
studied that crisp, thick cotton, I traced a finger around my little
nipples, and down my rib-cage to my skinny belly and back up to my
hardening nipples. Draping my naughty cotton trophy across my face, I
breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh scent of fabric softener, while
picturing Jason's hard, 5-inch dick pressing against my cheek, throbbing
with his heartbeat. I kissed that imaginary hardness, and realized I wanted
to kiss it for real the next time I saw him. In my imagination, he sat on
my chest, his knees astride me, those firm twin globes pressing down
against my chest. I dragged his undies around and around on my chest, as
one hand found my already achingly hard 3 inches of boyhood, and rubbed
around the head as it pressed outwards against my sheer cotton briefs.

Imagining Jason's fingers, I stoked the length of my textile-trapped
gherkin, to my two little balls. Picturing my hand teasing Jason's
throbbing boner inside its own fabric prison, I pulled my undies down below
my nuts, then opened the baby oil. Pouring a little bit into my hand, I
gently massaged it into my dick and worked it down onto my balls. Imagining
Jason's hands were working on me, I rubbed round and round my little
grapes, in their tiny, hairless bag. Kneading, and occasionally pinching my
walnut-sized scrotum. I'd even use my fingernails, torturing myself
exquisitely.  And with my other hand I gently worked round and round my
quivering helmet.  Imagining Jason was now astride my head, with his hands
pleasuring me, I pictured lowering his straining white underpants behind
his smooth, hairless, plum-sized ball sack. In my mind, I gently rubbed his
sperm purse as it tightened against his body. His head throbbed downward
toward my face, and with my other oily hand, I delicately rubbed the head
of his fat, pubescent tube. He sighed and wrapped two fingers and a thumb
around my pounding morsel. As he began to stroke me, I wrapped three
fingers and a thumb around his rigid gristle, and stroked from the
circumcised head to the few hairs ringing the base of his fat, white stalk.

His hands pulled and rolled my tender nuts, while his dick-hungry hand
clasped my little hairless prong, and milked me with a rising furor. In
time, my oil-slicked hand pulled and rubbed against his much bigger cock,
beating it faster, while rotating my slicked finger tips around that
mushroom head with every down stroke. My other hand moved from his firm,
sperm-filled balls, and traced around his cotton-clad bottom. Rubbing
around and around those hot young buns, I soon started rubbing the canyon
between, tracing with my forefinger the channel from the waistband pressing
against his quaking scrotum to that sensitive place I knew would drive him
crazy. His greasy hands pounded my dick more furiously, and one of his
fingers found its way inside my briefs into my bun canal. As I gently
rubbed around his textile-shielded boy hole, he rubbed around my quivering
anus. Likewise, I pressed harder, and he shuddered, his pelvis pumping down
toward my face as I stroked upward on his shaft. My hips rose upward to
greet his pounding grip. Up and down our hips rose and fell, as we
masturbated each other harder.

Even with the lubrication the friction became too much, and I could feel my
tiny love sack try to burrow into my body, as my penis pulled that itching
flame from between my legs, and out through its pulsing, roaring head. At
the same time, Jason growled, his ass cheeks gripped my finger, and his
cock spasmed, and shot a stream of milky semen into my mouth. I pulled on
him as he pulled on me. In futility, my pre-pubescent meat tried to eject
fluid I did not yet make, while Jason's kept spewing more and more of his
hot boy lava across my face and into my mouth. I stifled a yowl, and before
the vision exploded into stars behind my clenched eyes, I kissed that madly
erupting volcano.

As I settled into post-orgasmic bliss, and my panting turned to regular
breathing, I thought, "I am a total pervert," and chuckled. Stashing away
my fetish -- my trophy of love -- Jason's Fruit-of-the-Looms, and the baby
oil, I knew I'd found my new favorite bedtime ritual. Pulling up my own
undies, then curling into my sheet and blanket, I feel into a deep,
dreamless sleep.

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


"Wake up, Robin! Wake up!" I was being lightly shaken by the shoulder and I
opened my eyes to early morning light.

I grumbled, "It's not time. Alarm. Not..."

"You over-slept, you little idiot," Lori shook me a little more, then
pulled me out of bed. "Come on dude, you'll be late for school."

Ah crap, I thought. With all the attention I'd dedicated to my dick the
night before, I'd forgotten to set the alarm.

As I stumbled out into the hallway, I realized I desperately needed to pee,
and morning wood tented my little striped briefs. About the same time, my
sister noticed, glancing at my crotch, then grinned at me, "Having sweet
dreams?"

Giving her the finger, I entered the bathroom, where my little brother had
already pulled off his plastic pants, which he was rinsing in the sink. I
unpinned his cloth diaper, and put it in the bin. He looked at my
cotton-covered pole and giggled.

"You've got a boner," he sang.

"Get into the shower," I sang back.

While he was turning on the water, I turned to the toilet bowl. Reaching
down to my low-rise briefs, I noticed there were smears of baby oil on
them. Great, I thought. Something else for my mom to quiz me on. Pulling
them down, I pushed my erection downward, and strained to pee through
granite. A few seconds later, and I was streaming away, and I was growing
soft.

Glancing at my watch, I realized I really was going to be late. Opening the
shower door, I said, "make room, Shrimp. We gotta share," and stepped
in. He smiled up at me. He was a cute little guy. "Little." that was
relative. Though 13, I looked a couple of years younger, so who am I to
talk?

Anyway were both soaping and scraping fast, while I admired Chris' pert
little butt. Like me, he was kinda skinny, but with a little bit of baby
fat. I scrubbed his back with a wash cloth.

"Thanks, Robin. Uh, your boner's gone," he observed.

"Yeah, it does that."

"I like it. It's so much bigger than than when I get boners."

Gotta change the subject, I thought. "Scrub your legs."

He leaned over, suddenly I was scrubbing his butt cheeks. He giggled as I
brought the wash cloth between his buns to scrub his little canyon. All of
a sudden, I was getting hard again. I scrubbed my face and thought through
some algebra problems. Just then I felt tiny hands on steely boy tube.

"It's back!" giggled Chris.

"Hey, dude! Hands off!"

"I'll wash your's and you can wash mine," my little brother chirped. With
that, he turned to reveal his own 2 inch bone.

I lightly slapped his butt and said, you know how to wash your own
weiner. Hurry up. We'll be late."

Maybe I'd have to show him what a hard on was for. I felt stupid being the
last person in school to learn how to jerk off, and this is what a big
brother is for. Yeah, but some other time. His tenth birthday was in a
month, and maybe that would be a great gift.

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


I couldn't wait until lunch, when I could hang with Jason. We saw each
other across the courtyard, and he grinned, and nodded toward a walk way
with his chin. I followed him, and soon caught up. We walked toward our
secret exit under the chain link fence at the edge of campus. But when we
got there, we saw workmen trenching. Turns out they were laying new
electrical lines, and they'd be there all week.

Both of us groaned and turned back. "I really want to kiss you hard!" Jason
whispered to me.

As we passed a boy's room door, I pulled him in. There was no one there,
and so I steered him into a stall, grabbed his shimmering, collar-length
hair, and pulled his face to mine.

Staring into his sparkling grey green eyes, I whispered, "I think I love
you."

He smiled and said, "Good. Cause I know I love you."

Our lips met, and gently touched, and we both sighed. It had been
days. Quickly, and with greater and greater urgency, our lips pressed
together, and our mouths opened. Tongue tickled tongue, and soon
wrestled. Delicately, we nibbled and licked, and moaned into each other's
mouths. As his hands rubbed circles on my back, I unbuckled his belt, and
unzipped his pants, which fell to his ankles.

"Somebody might come in here!" he hissed.

"Mmmmm...I don't care! I've missed you so much," I whispered into his
ear. Working my way through his brown shaggy hair, I gently bit his earlobe
and tickled his his ear with my tongue, making him squeal.

"Soooo much, Robin. So fucking much! Still..." Then he seemed to make up
his mind, and sat down on the toilet. He unbuckled my belt and lowering my
pants, he told me to sit on his lap. I felt his poll straining up between
my buns, hot and hard and throbbing.

"If anyone comes in, they'll just see one boy taking a shit," he explained,
before locking lips with me again.

Reaching around me with on arm, his hand stroked the length of my cock,
which was trying to burrow its way through the sheer cotton barrier of my
tightly tented briefs. I moaned as his fingers gently rubbed around my
cockhead. But as things were, I couldn't kiss him. I shushed his protests,
got up and pull my pants off, over my shoes, and draped them around neck,
as I sat on his slender, but muscular thighs, facing him. And I then I
kissed him deeply.

My hands had been running through his hair, but now I traced them down his
muscular 13-year-old chest, across his hard abs, to the missile staining
his underpants. A patch of wetness grew from the outline of his head
clearly visible even behind that thick, cotton weave.

I pushed my hand inside his briefs and wrapped it around that wondrous,
throbbing love stick. It was so hard - hard as iron, but pulsing with his
increasing heartbeat. And it was wet with cock drool. He rubbed the length
of my cotton-coated cock, cupping my tightening tiny ballsack, then rubbing
back again. I didn't think I could take much more of this torturous
teasing.

But just then, the boys' room door opened, and we froze. Footsteps quickly
lead to the urinals. We heard a zipping sound, a splashing, and a small
fart. We looked at each other and choked back laughter.

Soon enough, with hand washing and door closing, we began kissing
again. Despite the fear of being caught, our bones hadn't stopped throbbing
with need. I licked a thumb and forefinger, and gently rubbed Jason's cock
head.

"You're such a quick learner," he quietly sighed.

"I have a great teacher" I whispered into his ear, before licking inside
it. He squealed again. I tasted ear wax (gross), but I didn't care, because
his dick was a diamond drill boring into my hand. I grabbed that turgid
prong and rubbed down and up, down and up. I brought my other hand into his
boy briefs, and and gently held his tight plumb sack.

At the same time, his cupping hand was rubbing harder and more deliberately
along the thin cotton straightjacket caging my ever hardening lust gun. His
other hand descended to gently grip my tiny scrotum, and I screamed with
pleasure into his mouth.

Our lips wrestled ever more vigorously as we stroked with increasing
frequency.

We were rocking and stroking and kissing. Faster, our fingers stroked one
another. Pulling out from a kiss, Jason whispered into my ear, "I love your
dick so much. And I love you sexy little under wear."

"My dick loves you!" I breathed back. Put your hand into my underwear,
dammit!"

He reached in, and wrapped his hand around my 3 quivering inches. It was
like a cocktail corn in a catcher's mitt, in my mind, at least.

We rubbed harder and faster, and were both sweating and moaning. I started
feeling that itching fire coming from somewhere between dick and boy hole
when Jason warned me "Gonna cum! Gonna come hard!"

He wrapped my stroking hand with one of his, enveloping his entire spasming
tool, and I could feel 5 hot jets of boys juice trapped in our fingers. He
groaned into my mouth, and his hips pressed up. At the same time, his other
fingers crescendos on my pulsing member as it growled silently, shooting
dry blanks into the cosmos. My hips labored in futility trying to fuck the
universe, or Jason, or just his hand.

I might have blacked out for a second. Or three. When I got my shit
together, I saw beautiful green eyes smiling into mine.

"Oh, Robin. That was so amazing."

"Uhhhhh....yeah." I sputtered lamely.

It was then I noticed out two cum-coated hands. As Jason smiled, he said,
"Well, the period is almost over..."

Once again, I had had a tasty liquid lunch, but a bigger serving.

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


For the rest of the week, we couldn't get a repeat. There were always
people around. And Jason had tennis practice after school every day. He
told me his parents were hoping he'd turn pro. He was into the sport
itself, but not the racquet parent bullshit. Still, it was fun for him, so,
what could I say?

Finally, the weekend.. On Saturday, I hit the waves as usual, shredding
with the other rats. Getting home around noon, I rinsed my wet suit,
showered, and got my backpack organized. I pulled on some jeans and a white
and blue FC Zürich jersey. A gift from my uncle Marty, it was huge
for me "to grow into."

My dad drove me over to Jason's in the middle of the afternoon. He looked
at their hillside house, and said, "Nice. Have a good time, son." Leaning
over, he kissed me on the cheek, something that was just beginning to make
me feel self-conscious (in public).

I rang the door, and Jason came out in Hang Ten shorts, an oversized
Chargers jersey and wet hair. Socially forward, he walked over to the car
and introduced himself to my dad, and briefly chatted. He came back to the
door as the car drove away.

"Mr. Social," I said.

"If you're not going to introduce me to your dad then..."

His manners were more on point than mine, I'll admit. I looked down as his
smooth, muscular legs strode past. Gazing up, my eyes latched onto Jason's
flexing and un-flexing butt cheeks, pressing and pulling against off-white
corduroy with each athletic step. Shorts were much shorter back then, and I
could almost make out the intersection of his bottom and his legs.

When we got inside, I already had a semi, which didn't matter because he
slammed the door and pulled me by the hand down stairs to his
room. Grabbing my bag and tossing it, he wrapped his arms around me and
hugged me tightly, squeezing the air out of me.

"Sean's at a friends house for the night, and folks won't be home until 7."

We both sighed and relaxed into each others arms and looked into each
other's eyes. I couldn't believe this 5'5" hunk was not only into me, but
loved me. He was the hottest guy in school, and all the girls swooned over
him, but nobody knew he was gay and into me. Yeah me.

We kissed. This time hard, and with hunger. We knew what we wanted and we
wanted it right now. Our lizard brains communicated through tongue
semaphore. His hands ran through my hair, while mine ranged from hugging
him to roaming up and down his back. One of my hands rounded around the end
of his bottom, and my finger tips tickled the back of his thighs, and the
space where they met his hard butt cheeks. Caressing upward, they found the
opening into his shorts, and inside the leg elastic of his underpants. My
fingers crept in, to caress his hard, globular bun.

Jason sighed, and said, "I have you now, said the spider to the fly."

I grinned and looked into his beautiful. "Buzz buzz buzz.".

I licked his chin and we were kissing again. I felt so at ease with this
sexy, wonderful boy. A couple of weeks before, I'd never even jerked
off. He'd not only opened my eyes to sex, but to love - the kind you don't
get from parents and siblings.

In moments, we kicked off our shoes, and he'd unbuckled and unzipped my
pants, which fell to my ankles, and I opened his shorts, which also fell.

There we were, two long-haired 13-year-old boys, in shirts hanging like
dresses, hugging each other tightly: one kinda skinny, late bloomer, short
for his age; the other slender but muscular. From a distance, we might have
looked like two girls in a tangle of arms and legs.

My tongue traced around the entire circumference of his puffy lips. He
licked back, while his hands clasped my little boy buns in each hand and
squeezed them like lemons until I moaned into his mouth. My arms entwined
around his back and pulled him harder into me. "Jase, I love you so much!"

We fell onto his bed, and his hand raced up my thigh, under my jersey to my
cotton-wrapped jewels. Cupping my my nuts, his palm rubbed up along the
length of my throbbing, needy pricklet. Straining against the tight, thin
fabric of my small European y-fronts, my 3-inches of prawn leaped upward
again and again with each heartbeat, trying to merge with his grasping
hand.

As my tongue danced with Jason's, I pulled up the back of his jersey and
with one hand, and kneaded the round, tennis-honed muscles of his warm,
wonderful ass cheeks. Unconsciously, we both started pushing our hips
forwards and back, until Jason rolled me on my back, and lay on top of
me. I spread my legs so our groins could meet. He dove in to kiss the sides
of my neck, and and trace his tongue around my ear. It drove me crazy, and
I pressed my hardness into his, and he drove his dick into mine.

"So good! So good!" I panted

"Yeah, baby. You're so hot!" he whispered, as we ground into each other
harder and more urgently. The heat and friction was building, and I
desperately wanted to climax. I needed to cum, and he knew it, which is why
he stopped, and raised himself onto all fours above me. I whimpered. He
smirked, "Not yet."

Pulling off his jersey, he said, "I've got something special for you."

Grabbing the bottom of my jersey, and pulling upward, he said, "But first,
let's get this off you." Helping, I raised up my butt, then arched my back
and held my arms over my head, as my jersey flew off, into a far corner. In
between my thighs, Jason sat back on his heels, and lightly ran his hands
up and down my legs, while gazing around my supine form. His 5-inch flesh
torpedo stretched the snowy white cotton expanse of his Fruit of the
Looms. A patch of pre-cum grew from the mushroom-shaped outline of his
pulsating head. I wanted his rod in my hands so badly it hurt - with a
diamond pain in my own penis.

Jason leaned forward, and rested on one elbow, while delicately kissing me
first on the lips, then my chin and down my neck. With his other hand, he
traced circles around my slender stomach, as alternated kisses with gentle
nibbles on my shoulders, then down to my nipples. Flicking his tongue and
delicately biting one nipple, Jason used his other hand to gently caress
and pinch the other.

I was moaning loudly, incoherently. My grew breath harder and harder, as he
licked and kissed his way around my belly button, while he drew a
forefinger lightly around the cotton casing smothering my throbbing cock
head.  Lightly fluting down my pounding length, he lightly cupped my tight
little sack, rubbing it gently, and probing the sensitive area behind.

"Please...Jason...Please...!" I didn't know what I wanted, but I needed his
hands on me. In answer, he grasped the waistband of my briefs.

"I love your sweet little panties, Robin, but they've gotta go." And he
quickly pulled them down, snapping my turgid dick up before it slapped down
against my pubis. He stood up, and I drew my legs together to help, as he
quickly pulled my underpants off and tossed them away. Then he pulled them
apart as he got back on his hands and knees and crawled toward my pulsing
little monster. He leaned in, looking intently at it, and I could feel his
hot breath. His fingers gently grasped the base of my agonizingly hard boy
pole. Suddenly, I felt hot wetness, as his tongue gently circled the raging
red head. He was licking it! Such awful, gentle pleasure. With one hand
rubbing my stomach and thighs Jason drew his tongue round and round, then
down the length and back up again. Like he was savoring a popsicle, he
licked more and more, then this fingers held my dick just below the
head. Taking my straining, smooth little ball purse into his mouth, he
gently sucked my tiny grapes, as he gently stroked a fraction of my
desperate little dick.

He was teasing the fuck out of me and I clawed at his duvet, pounded my
head into his pillows and gasped and moaned and almost screamed. Sensing my
frenzied needs, Jason left my balls, while one hand gripped the base of my
dick, his other cupped my straining nut sack, rubbing back and forth. Just
then, I felt the entire length of my dick enter engulfed in hot wetness, as
he sucked me in.

"Uuuuuuuhhhhh!" I cried out.

His mouth pulled back, leaving only the head in his hot saliva pot, rubbing
it with his tongue and sucking harder, then plunged down again, as all 3
angry inches slid against his tongue. And then back again. I held out
against 3 strokes. I resisted for maybe five seconds. But there was no way
to stop the fire exploding from from my little boy balls, out through my
stomach and out through my dick. My hips flew up, and my back arched, and
head flew back, as my penis barked silently and dryly into Jason's mouth.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk!" I screamed. "Jaaaaaaaaaasssse!"

This time, I knew I blacked out, because the next thing I knew, Jason was
lying on his side, with one leg straddling my stomach. He smiled and stared
into my eyes.

"I'm sorry you didn't like that," he said.

"Whaat? What do you mean? That was the best thing I ever felt!" I was dizzy
and confused.

"Well, you yelled `Fuck Jason.' So I figured you didn't much care for your
first blow job." And giggled. I gently punched him, but my confusion
lingered.

"I thought a blow job meant you blew air on it."

At that he laughed hard. Boy was I naive. I must have blushed, because he
quickly explained. "Yeah, I used to think that, too. Nobody knows why it's
called a B.J.  It's also called `sucking dick,' or `giving head.'"

"Where did you learn how?"

"I'll show you later. Meantime, kiss me, stupid."

As our lips met for a long, and lingering caress, I felt the hard dampness
of his cotton-wrapped sausage pressing against my side. I was going to
learn how to return the favor, and I knew I would savor every succulent
inch.