Date: Thu, 16 Jul 2020 17:25:01 +0200 From: Tamil Tails Writer Subject: South Asian Perverts - A Love Story (Part 4) (Young Friends, Gay) South Asian Perverts - A Love Story (Part 4) This is my first attempt at writing a story. I want to tell the story of a young boy blossoming into a underwear-loving pervert as he finds and sustains love at a young age. Please feel free to contact me at tamiltails @ gmx.com. Please continue to support NIFTY! This website has provided us with hundreds of orgams. If you've ever lost a load, donate money to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/. I apologize in advance - there's a lot of plot in this chapter. Aadhavan woke up feeling sticky and disoriented. His alarm was buzzing and his head was swimming. A million thoughts ran through his head all at once. Where was Aachuthan? What time is it? Why is he wearing a t-shirt? Did he really just send dozens of naked photos to an unknown person last night? He slowly came to remember the major news his mom shared last night. She was leaving for Sri Lanka today to be with his Ammamma. She probably wouldn't even come home for months. Aadhavan started to feel really sad until he remembered that with his mom gone, he would have so much more freedom to explore his sexuality and pursue a relationship with the boy from last night. Excitement coursed through his body as he grabbed his phone to check Instagram. The mysterious boy had indeed already sent him a DM this morning. "Thinking about you all night and all morning," it read with an attached photo of the boy's morning wood. Aadhavan had only ever sucked one dick in his life, and it belonged to his little brother, but he knew in his heart that the dick he was staring at right now was the most perfect specimen of boyhood and manhood. He returned the favour and snapped a picture of his own morning wood, adding "Thinking about you too" with a blushing emoji. "I can't wait to see you at school, Aadi. I am bringing a gift for you." A smile spread quickly over Aadhavan's face. He started a reply, but once again the stranger had gone offline. He had just started to gently stroke his four inch dick when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Aadi, time for your morning shower," his father's gentle voice came through the door. "Yes, Appa," Aadhavan replied, wondering why his father was awake so early. His father always called him by his nickname and never called him makan, like his mother always did, the Tamil word for son. Aadhavan whipped off Muhammad's t-shirt, smiling that he had something that belonged to the handsome and super fit Bengali boy in his class. He walked naked across the hall and straight into the shower, which his father had turned on for him. He made sure to wash all of his body parts carefully, but he avoided his armpits. If the boy on Instagram was into underwear, he must have to also be into body odour. Aadhavan spent so much time leisurely prodding, fingering, and stimulating his tight boy hole that he didn't have a moment to touch his throbbing dick before there was an annoying knock at the bathroom door. He quickly rinsed his body of soap and shampoo, dried himself off, and scurried back to his bedroom. He dressed quickly, putting on a pair of recently worn grey Hanes boxer briefs, blue Nike shorts, and a plain white t-shirt. For the first time in his life, he stopped and considered his outfit in his bedroom mirror. Did he look good enough for his online lover? He laughed as he considered that he was critiquing his own reflection in the mirror. He considered changing into a nicer t-shirt, but he liked the way the white fabric offset his brown skin and made his dark eyes shine. It's hard to find anything nice in your closet when everything you own is from Wal-Mart, hand me downs from cousins, or rescued from Goodwill. LIke most school day mornings, Aadhavan sat down at the kitchen table half expecting his mom to lay a plate in front of him. He glanced around the room and realized that she must not even be awake because the lights were still off and there were no lingering aromas in the kitchen. Aadhavan stood up to reach into the cupboard for a bowl when his father sidled into the room and reached into the cupboard beside the refrigerator. "Aadi, eat this for breakfast," his father said, as he tossed a protein bar towards his son. Aadhavan awkwardly caught the bar and stared quietly at his father. "Go get your school bag. I will drive you to school myself. You will eat in the car. Your mother and brother will not be ready on time," his father stated with no emotion in his voice. "Yes, Appa," Aadhavan replied, looking down at the ground rather than witness the look on his father's face. The drive to school was quite awkward. Aadhavan had not been alone in a vehicle with only his father in many months. It may have even been years. He remembered being driven to a birthday party when he was 8 years old. Could that have really been the last time? "Aadi, I know that you are worried about your Ammamma. I also know that you are upset that your mother is leaving for such a long length of time." Aadhavan just nodded silently, staring out the window of the car. "I have taken a new job," his father continued, "but this means that I will be working every night from 4 PM until 2 AM. It will be very hard for me to see you or Chu." "I know you work hard for us, Appa," Aadhavan said quietly, still watching the side of the road. "I have asked your auntie Priya to come and stay with you. I do not want you to feel burdened by your mother's absence." "No, Appa!" Aadhavan pleaded. "I can be responsible. I will make sure we eat a proper dinner. I will make sure the house is clean. And I will make sure our homework is always done." "I had hoped you would say that, Aadi. I do not want my sister living with us either!" His father laughed heartily, lightening the very strange mood in the car. The car slowed to a stop at the front of Aadhavan's school. The boy leaned over and kissed his father in the cheek, something he had not done since he was a much smaller child. "We will not let you down, Appa." His father reached towards Aadhavan and rested the palm of his right hand along Aadhavan's right cheek. The young man and his father shared a tender, quiet moment that reverberated through their bodies. They had never been very close, but Aadhavan felt a dramatic shift in their relationship as he exited the car and jogged around to the back of the school. Aadhavan slouched against the brick wall and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the pavement resting against the building. He pulled out a book, choosing the novel "We Are All Made of Molecules" by Susin Nielsin. He had become obsessed with reading her books after being introduced to her book "The Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Larsen" last year by a girl in his class. Aadhavan so rarely had this kind of time alone. The school yard was completely empty and he felt inwardly calm after the brief conversation with his father. He began reading the next page in the novel and found himself enjoying the serenity of the situation. He mind didn't fly to thoughts of the stranger on Instagram, or Muhammad, or even his brother. A few metres down from where he was sitting, the school door popped open and Aadhavan saw Mr. Nicholson gesturing for him to get up. Aadhavan ran over to the man and entered the school. The two stood in the vestibule for a moment until Mr. Nicholson pressed his fingers against Aadhavan's lips to encourage him to remain quiet. Mr. Nicholson grabbed Aadhavan's hand and led him quietly around through the doors into the school, around the corner, and up the stairs. The pair stopped only once when they saw a teacher unlocking her door. They headed in the opposite direction and locked themselves in Mr. Nicholson's classroom. Mr. Nicholson left the door locked, the lights turned off, and the blinds closed. The man was immediately thankful that he was not known to ever arrive at school early, which meant that he and Aadhavan would have almost 40 minutes of hopefully interrupted time together. Mr. Nicholson took the boy in his arms and started to kiss him tenderly. Aadhavan rebuffed his teacher and pushed him away. "Mr. Nick, can we just talk. Please?" Aadhavan pleaded. The man turned around and walked to his desk, trying to hide his disappointment from being rejected. "Aadi, we can do anything you want. Tell me what you need from me." Mr. Nicholson sat at his desk and Aadhavan took the chair closest to him and sat across from his teacher. Aadhavan went on to recount the drama from last night. He shared his mother's breakdown over her own mother's imminent death. He told Mr. Nicholson about his excitement over being left alone without his mother's supervision. He even told Mr. Nicholson how upset he was that Aachuthan completely abandoned him and hadn't spoken to him since coming home from school the previous day. Mr. NIcholson listened attentively as Aadhavan divulged this information. He could tell that the boy was struggling with his emotions. He wanted Aadhavan to understand that it was okay and natural to want to be given more freedom by your parents. "Aadi, it's okay to be happy that your mom is leaving and still be upset about the reason. You have the opportunity to prove to your mom and dad that you are truly the responsible, honest, and amazing boy that we all see." "Even if I want to use this time to get a boyfriend and spend more time fucking than doing homework?" Aadhavan smiled devilishly, unsure where the bravery came from to state his desires so succinctly. "You can have all the sex you want, Aadi, but you'll stll need to get all your homework finished. Mr. Park, as you might suspect, thinks you're quite the boy genius." Aadhavan's face flushed. He knew both of those statements to be true. He knew his father would never allow him to be solely in charge at home if his grades started to slide. "Now, the most important question, Aadi, is who are you planning to fuck?" Mr. Nicholson stated, with a slight smile behind his words. Awkwardly, Aadhavan shifted in his chair, "It's not finding a boyfriend that's going to be hard, Mr. Nick. There's a boy in my class already after me! It's my brother who'll be the biggest problem." Mr. Nicholson produced a fake smile, trying his best to hide his desire for the young boy's flesh. "I can handle your brother, Aadi. I can make sure he's fully occupied before and after school. But you need to tell me about this boy in your class," Mr. Nicholson was quite interested in Aadhavan's sexual exploits and he posed the question with such lust in his voice. Aadhavan shared with his favourite teacher the story of his sketchy Instagram requests and then how he mistakenly gave access to his profile. Mr. Nicholson felt a pang of regret when Aadhavan revealed that he thought it was his teacher who had added him. The man felt a wave of disappointment wash over him as he realized that if he had added Aadhavan rather than fight against it, Aadhavan may still have been his. Aadhavan provided his teacher with all the scandalous details of his DM exchanges with the mystery boy. He told him about the photos he received and how he knew they were definitely taken inside this very school. Aadhavan even told Mr. Nicholson about last night's photo-swapping explosion when both boys shared graphic photos of themselves. "I want to see these photos," Mr. Nicholson stated, looking slightly shocked when he realized he had said this thought out loud. "I'll show you, Mr. Nick!" Aadhavan responded. Mr. Nicholson smiled and shifted his body to a more comfortable position. Aadhavan could tell this was because he was getting erect. "But," Aadhavan said slyly, "you need to show me your big, hard dick first!" There was still twenty minutes until the bell rang to signal the start of the school day, so Mr. Nicholson stood up and started to undo his belt. In doing so, he exposed a few inches of his rock hard abs. Aadhavan gawked at his teacher's pornstar body with hunger growing in his eyes. As he finished unzipping his jeans, Aadhavan caught sight of Mr. Nicholson's vibrant Saxx underwear. There was a clear and urgent bulge protruding from the fabric. Almost too quickly, Mr. Nicholson pulled down his boxer briefs and unleashed his throbbing, nine inch erection to his prized student. Aadhavan stared unabashedly at the circumcised dick. The large, throbbing head was calling his name. "Here," Aadhavan said, passing the man his phone, "you can look at all the photos you want. I am going to suck your dick," Aadhavan wrapped his lips around the large, bulbous head of his teacher's dick. He swirled his tongue around the man's circumcision scar and just enjoyed feeling the mushroom-shaped head rest in his mouth. He was a novice cocksucker, but Aadhavan had fantasized about this moment for so long. He had imagined this exact moment: this classroom, this teacher, and this huge, enormous dick. He didn't dare try to take much more of the man's dick into his mouth. He just wanted to enjoy the crown of his hero. He used his hands to stroke the giant prick as he swallowed every drop of the man's precum that flowed directly into his mouth. Mr. Nicholson, meanwhile, leaned back against his desk while his favourite brown skinned student worshipped his dick. He read through Aadhavan's DMs with the secret admirer and stared at all the scandalous photos of young boy dick. He too loved the perfectly shaped head of the circumcised dick of Aadhavan's crush. But he loved even more to look at the head of Aadhavan's young dick as it stretched out from his foreskin. Mr. Nicholson had had his fair share of experiences with South Asian men, but he knew nothing could possibly be better than the two young dicks he had the pleasure of looking at right now. The man proceeded to use Aadhavan's phone to send himself all of the photos the two boys had shared. He then started taking photos and videos of the young boy worshipping his dick. Aadhavan continued to suck and slurp on the head of his teacher's big dick. He was now using his left hand to grab onto and stroke the man's hairy balls. Mr. Nicholson, somehow cognizant of the time, moved his hands down and started to stroke his own dick as Aadhavan continued to lick and suck his knob. All too soon, the man exploded and began to fill Aadhavan's young mouth with his adult load. Aadhavan tried his best to swallow it all, but eventually his hero's cum began to leak onto his lips, nose, and cheeks. The man pulled the boy up onto his feet and started to lick his own load from the boy's face. They started to share a deep, passionate kiss before there was a knock at the classroom door. "Benjamin, are you in there?" It was Mr. Park's voice. "I need to borrow some materials for my math lesson." The man and the boy struggled to quickly fix themselves as to appear natural. Aadhavan ran to hide in the corner while Mr. Nicholson walked over and unlocked the door. Aadhavan couldn't hear a single thing over the throbbing of his heart. A few seconds later, the door shut and Mr. Nicholson walked over to him. "It's fine, baby, he didn't see you," the teacher assured the young man, giving him a quick peck. "Come and see me at lunchtime and I'll help you with that," he said, gently stroking the front of Aadhavan's shorts. Aadhavan grabbed his backpack and tried to sneak into the hallway without being seen. He darted into the bathroom to splash water on his face. He hoped to wash away the glow of illicit sex and yet still save the joyous aftertaste of his teacher's thick and heavy load. Once the bell rang, he walked to his classroom in a daze. He imagined all the possibilities he could have with Mr. Nicholson during his mom's absence. Would the man take his virginity inside the classroom? As his math lesson began, Aadhavan almost forgot everything that had happened with Mr. Nicholson. How could school work be so good at ruining all positive things? He looked around the room and noticed that Muhammad was absent. He tried to whisper to Niko to ask him, but all he got was a "Why the fuck do you care?" in response. Aadhavan's face sunk. If Muhammad was indeed his secret adrmier, how was he supposed to get a gift from him today? He must have truly looked miserable because once the students were given time to work independently on their math assignment, Mr. Park called Aadhavan over to his disk. "Aadhavan, is everything okay? You look like you might be feeling ill," his teacher said, with a genuine sound of compassion in his voice. Aadhavan told Mr. Park the long story about his grandmother's health, his mother's departure for Sri Lanka, and even that he had failed to eat breakfast this morning. "Do you have anything you can eat in your backpack?" Mr. Park asked. Aadhavan nodded. "Go grab it, take a walk, get a drink, and then come back to class. If you don't start to feel better, we'll have to call home." Aadhavan gave a weak smile and thanked his teacher before heading out into the hallway. He grabbed the protein bar from his bag, thankful to his father that it did not have peanut butter. His stomach grumbled and he ripped open the package as he started walking aimlessly. There really wasn't anywhere he wanted to go. He just kept walking around without registering any of his surroundings. A few classroom doors were closed, but most were open and the raucous sounds of students filled the hallway. Without realizing it, he found himself standing outside Mr. Nicholson's classroom. The man's back was to the door as he talked about an upcoming school event. Aadhavan heard a boy laugh and he noticed that it was Aachuthan's voice coming from the room. He stared in disbelief. How could Aachuthan be sitting there in such a happy mood? Feeling even more upset than when he left the classroom, Aadhavan headed back. Aadhavan noticed something once he reached the coat rack outside his classroom. His backpack was zipped closed when he was fairly sure he had left it open. Questioning his own memory, he opened his backpack and suddenly felt a warm glow drench his body. Sitting inside his bag was a Ziploc bag containing red fabric. He brought the bag out to inspect and confirmed his suspicions. It was the pair of red shorts the boy was wearing in the photos last night! What a gift, Aadhavan thought. He couldn't wait to find a private moment to thoroughly enjoy the shorts. He shoved the Ziploc package deep into his backpack and hurried into class ready to give Muhammad a huge smile. However, Aadhavan was once again crushed to see that Muhammad's desk was still empty. There was no trace that the boy had even been in the classroom at all this morning. Aadhavan stared down at his math work. The questions were all too easy for him, but his mind was elsewhere. Internally, he was investigating every boy in his class. He was judging their skin tones, the likelihood that he would be circumcised, and even if he could possibly have a crush on Aadhavan. Despite his best intentions, Aadhavan managed to complete the entire math sheet before the bell rang for recess. The more important task - discovering the identity of his Instagram admirer (or perhaps stalker) - was still nowhere close to being done. Kishan cornered Aadhavan at recess and questioned him about being so distracted. Aadhavan explained his family drama to his best friend, leaving out his hopes for a huge fuckfest in his mother's absence. KIshan seemed to have magical powers because one recess was over, Aadhavan felt lighter and much happier about the whole situation. Aadhavan's entire mood was once again elevated when he returned to class. Muhammad was standing in the hall waiting with the others to enter the classroom. Aadhavan smiled at him and Muhammad said hi in return. Aadhavan almost tripped over his own feet with joy. He knew he was falling desperately in love with Muhammad. What could he possibly do now that it was all but confirmed that his admirer was someone else? For the rest of the morning, Mr. Park went over a surprisingly complex science project that would require the students to work in pairs. Naturally, the students immediately begin whispering and even shouting across the room to best friends about who would work together. Mr. Park quickly put an end to that when he announced that he had already created teams and the students would find out at the end of the period. Until then, the students were tasked with using a device to do some preliminary research on their own before creating their partnerships. It was the first time that Mr. Park had allowed the students to use their cell phones in the classroom. Aadhavan did his best to stay on task, but Kishan kept sending him DMs praying that the boys would be able to work together. Annoyed, Aadhavan finally responded and told Kishan to stay on task or else the possibility of a partnership would never happen. He then took a risk and sent a DM to his secret friend, "I saw the gift you left me. I can't wait to sniff and suck on your cum stains!" Aadhavan glanced around the classroom to see who was using a cell phone. It seemed as if every student was chatting with someone and scrolling on their devices. He checked for a response and saw the message turn from unread to read. He furtively glanced around to see if anyone had less than innocent looks on their faces. It turns out that in grade 8, when cell phones are being used, almost everyone looks suspicious! With ten minutes left in class before lunchtime, the students were eagerly anticipating Mr. Park's announcement. There was a call to the classroom from the office asking for Aadhavan to come down ready to go home. He was shocked. Did Mr. Park call home without telling him? Kishan gave him one last hopeful look, but all Aadhavan could do was shrug. He gathered all of his things, asked Mr. Park for any work he would miss from the afternoon, and he walked down to the office. Standing there were both of his parents and Aachuthan. Achuthan's mood from last night looked like it had returned. "Aadi, we are going to eat lunch together as a family, and then the men will drive your mother to the airport for her flight," his father said, with a smile that looked far too forced. Aadhavan's heart sank. This isn't how he wanted to spend the rest of his day. There was a package in his backpack that required all of his attention. That's what he wanted. And he was supposed to meet with Mr. Nicholson at lunch. The family headed to his mother's minivan where it was announced that they would be heading to the boys' favourite Tamil restaurant. Aachuthan cheered, his mood improving, but Aadhavan just seemed to sink into more of a funk. *** Sitting at the booth with his family, Aadhavan pushed his food around with a spoon. He always enjoyed eating kootu, but today he had little interest in being together as a family. He and Aachuthan always sat beside each other at restaurants, but today the younger brother remained attached to his mother's hip. Aachuthan rattled off a list of all the things he wanted his mother to bring home with her, favouring all the special Tamil treats and packaged food items that he remembered on his trip home last spring. The youngest family member had been fortunate enough to be taken to Sri Lanka with his cousins and auntie, but Aadhavan had begged to be allowed to stay home. It had been during a time of cultural self-loathing when Aadhavan had witnessed family and community members being very homophobic, especially his mother. Aadhavan tried to listen to his mother as she listed all the food items in the freezer and all the dishes he could easily prepare for himself and his brother. She restarted, for at least the eighteenth time, that their father's sister would deliver groceries once a week with a predetermined list that their mother had created. When she started on about how best to clean the toilet bowl, Aadhavan felt himself get anxious for her to finally leave. He could feel the anxiety rising in his body and he absentmindedly reached for his cellphone to check for notifications. His father, quickly noticing his wife's annoyance, snatched the phone away and put it in his pocket. Aware that he was close to spoiling everyone's moods, Aadhavan forced several more spoonfuls of lunch into his mouth before pushing his dish away to declare himself finished. Aadhavan sat quietly as his parents both enjoyed a post-meal tea. Husband and wife chatted as the boys remained fidgety and quiet in their seats. Each boy ran to the toilet twice at this time in attempts to make it less awkward. Under different circumstances, the boys' awkward behaviour may have been a cause for concern, but neither parent reacted one way or another to their sons' avoidance of each other. In what should have been a 45 minutes drive in each direction turned out to be an almost five hour round trip journey. Aachuthan successfully begged his father to park their minivan at the airport so that the family could escort their mother into the departures gate. He would not let his mother go through security until their father had to pry him from his mother's arms. Aadhavan hugged his mother, shared some pleasantries, and once again forced a series of smiles as she listed all of his responsibilities at home. The awkwardness of this moment did not go unnoticed by his father, who chalked it up to (pre)teenage angst. On the drive home, Aadhavan encouraged his brother to sit in the passenger seat, the first time either boy had spoken directly to the other all day. Aadhavan sat behind his father and opened his backpack looking for his homework. As it was nearing 6 PM, the boy knew it would be a very long drive home and it would be best to occupy himself with something so that he could better enjoy his weekend. As he reached into his backpack, Aadhavan felt the ZIploc bag hiding towards the bottom. He had completely forgotten about his "gift" due to the day's family drama. A wave of nausea passed over him as he wondered how he would ever get privacy at home to enjoy this treat. As much as he wanted to pull the red shorts from its package, he resisted the urge. He simply could not risk it in the backseat of his family minivan. He tried to force himself to work diligently on his homework but the stop-and-go pace of traffic caused his stomach to turn. He wished that he could use his phone if only to plug in his headphones and disappear into his own world rather than hear the idle chit chat of his brother and father. It was well past 7:30 when the three men finally pulled into their parking spot. To Aadhavan, it felt like another 20 minutes before the three of them quietly entered their apartment. He was unsure how to react when he saw Aachuthan immediately head into their shared bedroom and close the door. Aadhavan chose to head to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. He desperately wanted to wash away the grime from the torturous car ride, the stale air of the airport, and his mother's guilt. Aadhavan's penis remained impossibly flaccid under the much too hot water of the shower. His mind constantly thought of his mother's face and he felt so much shame. Why was she so hard on him? Why did she treat him with such contempt when all he did was show her love and respect? The heat from the water started to cool making Aadhavan realize that he needed to get dry and face the reality of his new home life without his mother's presence. He wrapped a towel around his waist and felt the sticky humidity of the apartment surround him as he walked across the hall to his bedroom. He took a deep breath as he opened the door and gasped as he found it empty. Where was Aachuthan, he thought. Throwing on a pair of shorts, he hung the towel on the back of his door and went to the kitchen. Aadhavan found his father sitting along at the kitchen table. There was a solemn lightness to his father that seemed to be new, but also troubling. "Aadi, I must leave for work now," his father said curtly. "I am very late for my shift and now I must make up the time. I will not be home until after 4 AM. I will need you and your brother to be very quiet when you wake up so I can continue to sleep." Aadhavan nodded, and then asked, "Where is Chu, Appa?" "Your brother is still upset about your mother leaving. He will continue to sleep in her bed," his father said with a frown. With that, his father stood up and left the apartment. He didn't even get an opportunity to ask for his phone back. Ignoring the magnitude of the situation, Aadhavan decided it was best to find something to eat. He took a bowl of leftover biryani from the fridge and quickly heated it in the microwave. Splitting the contents into two smaller bowls, Aadhavan knocked on his parents' bedroom door and announced to his brother that there was food for him. The whole time Aadhavan ate, he didn't hear a single sound from the bedroom. However, when he woke up in the morning, he would find the empty bowl sitting unwashed in the sink. Aadhavan went and laid on the couch in the den and turned on the TV. His first Friday night of grade eight, and he was completely alone. He flicked through the various channels until he came across a Tamil station his parents had installed. The movie "100" was halfway done and he found himself drawn into the film even though he had already seen it more than once. Aadhavan had a massive crush on the megastar Atharvaa and found himself rubbing his dick through his shorts as the film progressed. As the film ended, at 11 PM, Aadhavan decided it would be best to head to bed. It suddenly dawned on him that he had completely forgotten about the special package in his backpack. In the privacy of his bedroom, Aadhavan stripped off his shorts, turned on his bedside lamp, and prepared himself to open up the Ziploc bag. Aadhavan was treated to a strong and pungent smell as he carefully unzipped the bag. The aroma was powerfully strong and it became more intense as he removed the red shorts from the bag. He lowered the fabric to his face and he could feel every part of his being become erect. It felt like his toenails, his legs, his heart, his lungs, his brain, every part of Aadhavan felt immediately hard and started to throb. He huffed the fabric several more times as he began to rub it on his nose and mouth. Aadhavan opened his eyes and sought out the crotch of the shorts, where the mystery boy's balls had obviously rested. He sniffed the seat of the shorts and could smell the aromas of the boy's ass. As a pig-in-training and a growing specialist in other people's underwear, Aadhavan could tell that this part of shorts had been worn many times. There was no way that a 13 year old boy could produce this much stink in one day. On the front of the shorts, there was an obvious crusty stain that could only be the previous night's cum explosion that Aadhavan had received on film. Aadhavan licked along the stain as if willing the taste to become more alive and the smells to become more powerful in his presence. He felt a powerful surge of electricity rock his body and he felt his dick jerk so intensely that he thought for a moment that he had cum. Aadhavan had never experienced a moment of such profound bliss. He knew that this was the happiest moment of his life. Thoughts of all his other underwear-sniffing experiences flew through his mind, even a long-forgotten thought of being six and curiously holding his father's discarded briefs to his nose. Aadhavan thrust his head backwards against his pillow and unleashed a loud, guttural moan of intense pleasure. Trapped beneath the fabric covering his face, he slowly began to breathe in the scent and commit it to memory. As he reached down to tug at his balls, his mind registered a powerful thought. Aadhavan jumped out of bed, the shorts fell from his face to the floor, and he rushed over to his closet. Laying on the floor, precisely where he had left it this morning, sat Muhammad's stolen t-shirt. Was his mind just playing a nasty trick on him or was it really possible that the powerful and boner-causing aroma from the shorts was the same as the stink from Muhammad's sweaty shirt? The scent from the shirt was not as strong as it had been yesterday. With the day's humidity and being left inside Aadhavan's closet all day, it had been exposed to far too many other elements. Aadhavan then realized why the shorts were given to him in Ziplock. What a smart idea! Aadhavan headed back over to his bed and picked up the fallen shorts. Holding both items in one hand, he flicked off the bedside lamp and resumed his position in bed. He wanted to be in the dark and to focus entirely on his sense of smell. He spent a few moments with the tangy flavour of the red shorts resting on his nose and mouth. He ignored his throbbing dick as he replaced the shorts with the t-shirt. He breathed in as much of the sweaty scent as he could. Finally, he placed both pieces of clothing on his face and used his hands to press the fabric harder into his nose and mouth After what felt like hours - but in reality was only 15 minutes - Aadhavan knew that the two articles of clothing belonged to the same boy. His heart filled with love as his mind filled with lust. Aadhavan and Muhammad were going to fuck. A plan forming in his mind, Aadhavan took the other boy's t-shirt and wrapped part of the fabric on his throbbing dick. He began jerking his dick into the t-shirt as he continued to inhale the intense and powerful flavours of what had to Muhammad's red shorts. Having no control over his burning balls, Aadhavan quickly expelled a load of his cum into Muhammad's t-shirt. And just as quickly he passed out from overstimulation, his hand still wrapped around the fabric on his dick and the shorts still laying flat on his face. Aadhavan's dreams that night were the most hypersexual and surreal that he had ever experienced. He was woken up by the painful throbbing of his young dick at least three times during the night. Each time he fisted his dick with such intensity that he splashed a fresh load of his cum into Muhammad's t-shirt before once again passing out. Aadhavan dreamed of being left alone in the classroom with Muhammad as the boys made out. Their kissing was so intense that they ended up on the floor grinding against one another. While Muhadmmad was at least 6 inches shorter than Aadhavan, his superior athletic body allowed him to pin the taller boy down and heavily grind his throbbing dick into Aadhavan. Aadhavan dreamed of being with Muhammad in Mr. Nicholson's classroom. The boys were taking turns sucking the other's dick. Muhammad feasted on Aadhavan's uncut dick as his tongue eagerly explored and devoured his foreskin. Aadhavan, like he had done with Mr. Nicholson, sucked eagerly on Muhammad's bell-shaped knob. Muhammad's four-inch length was much easier for Aadhavan to enjoy and the boy was able to take the entire length into his mouth. Aadhavan's most vivid dream, the one that he would remember most clearly when he woke up - and which would linger in his thoughts for weeks to come - featured the two boys completely naked and alone in the school change room. The boys were drenched in sweat from phys. ed. and their young dicks throbbed as they embraced. Breaking the kiss, Aadhavan pushed Muhammad down onto the bench and proceeded to lick the very visible beads of sweat from the boy's chest. In this fantasy, Muhammad's armpits were quite bushy and mature, and Aadhavan spent what felt like hours tasing the sweat from each individual hair in each armpit. In his dream, Aadhavan suddenly found himself on his knees with Muhammad's small, tight, and athletic ass in front of his face. The cheeks were dripping with sweat and Aadhavan licked each solid globe of Muhadmmad's ass. Pressing his hands on opposite sides of his ass, Aadhavan spread open Muhammad to expose his tight, puckered asshole. In all the porn that Aadhavan had watched, he was not prepared for the sight of Muhammad's asshole. The hairless rosebud was practically hypnotically calling out for his tongue. Aadhavan shoved his face into the boy's ass and opened his mouth as if to make out with Muhadmmad's asshole. Aadhavan remembered nothing else from that dream, but the thought of rimming Muhammad haunted his mind when he woke up. The t-shirt was still wrapped around his young dick, which felt like it had been rubbed raw while also requiring more and more attention. He placed the shorts back in the Ziploc bag and then hid it along with the t-shirt under his pillow. He put on his own pair of shorts from last night and headed to the kitchen. He noticed it was after 11 AM. Sitting on the kitchen table was his cell phone, an obvious sign from his father that they would not discuss the reasons why it was confiscated. Underneath the phone sat two fifty dollar bills, he assumed it to be apology money from his father for disappearing so quickly last night. Aadhavan wondered how much he would actually see his dad due to his change in work schedule. Tapping his phone, he noticed the battery was dead. He plugged his phone into its charger and decided to have a quick shower before anyone else woke up. He assumed that Aachuthan must still be asleep or that he was doing his damnedest to continue to avoid his brother. Aadhavan took a quick shower, not washing all of his parts. He wanted his armpits to still be as ripe as possible for his own enjoyment. He threw on the same pair of shorts as before his shower and then walked back out to the kitchen, hair still damp. The first thing he saw when he opened the bathroom door was Aachuthan standing in the kitchen. The young boy gave his older brother an apologetic look before Aadhavan realized his brother was standing there holding his phone. "Anna," his brother started, "why is this person asking if you enjoyed his shorts?" Shock, fear, and anger spread through Aadhavan's body as he angrily snatched the phone from his brother's hand. Without saying a thing, he retreated into their shared bedroom. Glancing at his phone, he had five missed emails, 14 missed calls from Kishan, countless Instagram notifications, and a string of missed DMs from his mystery boy. Most of the messages were just asking, "U there dude?" but the most recent one - and hopefully the only one Aachhuthan had seen - was the one that said "I hope you enjoyed my spunky shorts, Aadi!" Aadhavan wasn't sure what to do. Two days ago he was fully prepared to share his secrets with his brother. But after Aachuthan's behaviour and Aadhavan's realization that his secret adrmirer was probably, definitely, hopefully Muhammad, he was stumped. Feeling exposed, he grabbed a t-shirt from the drawer and sat down to think about his options. The bedroom door banged open and Aachuthan stood in front of his brother. "Tell me the truth, Anna," Achuthan tried to say with conviction, his voice wavering. Aadhavan looked towards his younger brother and felt a burning rage build up inside him. He grabbed his shoes from beside his bed and walked by his brother. He looked directly into Aachuthan's eyes and said, "NO!" as he walked barefoot out the apartment door towards the elevator. He stood by the elevator as he put on his sneakers, staring back at his apartment. He hoped that Aachuthan would chase after him. The elevator door opened and Aadhavan got it, turning around to look one last time at the door. Seeing no sign of his brother, Aadhavan went down to the lobby to take a much needed walk. Would love to know your thoughts! My email is posted at the top!