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Related post:
True Blue 8
WARNING:
This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a man,
a teenager and two MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part
of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is
intended to have serious literary value. As a friend once said:
"Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right young nymphet rape to
censor an imagination, or dreams."
With that in mind, know that this story is not true, although it
is based on fact and some real events! Further, it is not intended to
promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and
boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western
society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The
sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination.
I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to
perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love offends you,
if this material is free ukrainian nymphets thumbnails illegal in your place of residence, or if you are
under the legal age for such material, do not read further!
By downloading this story:
"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of
perjury that naked pre nymphets you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are
entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible
members of society capable of making decisions about the content of
documents they wish to read...."
The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has
been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story
cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in
archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed
in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. Reference is also made in context to movies, characters,
and actors that have become part of modern western culture. No other
implication about the true sexuality of the people mentioned or their
private lives is intended.
Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....
THE NIFTY ARCHIVE:
The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this
story, please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty
Archive. Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to
provide support. If you don't write for the archive, do the right
thing and support it with a donation.
True Blue by Ganymede
Chapter
14
All
of the lights were off when we went inside. We didn’t bother to
turn them on. It was more fun muddling around in the dark, finding
our toothbrushes on the window sill where we had left them, standing
side by side brushing, spitting into the kitchen sink. It was a
simple thing, yet I felt closer to Bruce than I had felt outside,
even when we were lying on the sand, even when Bruce was leotards nymphets lying on top
of me. We got into bed, both naked, both pulling up the sheet, each
keeping a respectable distance. I wasn’t sure what was going to
happen, but something was going to happen that night. I lay on my
back, looking at the dark ceiling, thinking about the day. There was
a index of nymphet jpg lot to think about. Blaine and Byron were in the bedroom next door.
Maybe they’d had sex while Bruce and I were on the beach. I was
envious of Byron. If I was in that bed with Blaine, I wouldn’t
be hesitant at all. We could do whatever we wanted. With Bruce, I
worried. I worried about everything.
Always,
there was the growl of the surf, a constant reminder that there were
waves forming, rolling, breaking. After two weeks how could I ever be
able go back to a normal life? Living with my mother and grandmother
and always being told what to do and being careful about what I did?
I sighed sleepily. The shack was very dark. I felt lonely. Not really
thinking much about it, I stretched my foot in Bruce’s
direction. In a way, it was an exploration to find out where he was
lying. It was also an excursion of different sort. Halfway across the
converted couch, my toes touched his leg. I quickly pulled my foot
back. He was closer than I thought.
It
was a only a few moments later when Bruce’s foot brushed
against my infringing foot. I felt his toes rub my ankle, then the
sole, then the side of my foot. His foot eased away. I smiled in the
darkness. I let him wait for a minute, perhaps longer, before my foot
ventured out again. This time, my foot made contact with his shin. I
played with my toes, wriggling them into his taut muscles. After a
few seconds, I withdrew again. I waited almost no time at all before
his foot slid onto my side of the bed. Our toes met. It was not at
all like holding hands, yet I still felt connected to him. After a
few seconds, his foot moved position. It lay over my foot, not
exactly comfortable but it was soothing.
“If
we keep this up, mate, we might start something that’s going to
get out of hand,” Bruce whispered breathily.
“Like
what?”
“Shhhh.
You know! It’ll be your fault too.”
“Huh?”
“Just
remember, you started it by playing footsies, Allan,” Bruce
muttered.
“Started
what?”
“You
know!” His foot jerked at mine. His toes grappled with my toes.
“No
I don’t.” It was hard not to giggle. My feet were
ticklish. My feet weren’t the problem.
“Messing
around.” Bruce snickered. “Man, you’re just like
Blainey. You act all innocent, but you’re just as horny as I
am.”
“Am
not!” underage nymphet top
I gagged, trying not to giggle. Our feet were wrestling.
“You
want to mess around, don’t you?”
“No.”
I meant yes. His toes were strong. Everything about him was strong.
“Yes
you do. I bet you’ve got a stiffie.”
“I
don’t.” I did. “Hey!”
He
moved closer, reaching out for me. I pushed at young nymphet thumbs
his hand, not knowing
why I wanted him not to touch me, because I did want him to take hold
of my penis. He brushed my hand aside, His fingers suddenly clasped
my penis. He was not about to let go. I didn’t struggle. I
gulped air. His hand felt good, almost as good as Blaine’s. I
felt the strength of it, the gentleness of his touch. My penis
throbbed in his hand.
“Man,
you’re hard.”
“So?”
“So
am I. Do you want to feel mine?”
“No….
yes,…. God!”
I
tried to shove Bruce’s hand away. It was pointless. My attempt
was feeble. It was doomed from the start. His fingers pressed into my
scrotum. He massaged my testicles until I squirmed and pulled back.
We both knew he wasn’t hurting me. His hand rested on the bed
between us, his fingertips lightly stroking my belly.
“Don’t
be afraid,” he said softly.
“I’m
not.”
“Do
you want to touch mine?”
“Yes,….”
His
hand moved, found my hand, clammy and nervous, drew it downwards
until my arm was fully extended. He guided my hand right onto his
cock and then he kept it there. I could barely hold half of it,
stretching my fingers so the tips could touch my thumb. They didn’t
meet. So different to Blaine’s penis. So different to my penis.
Both of them, even together, were easily held in my hand. Bruce’s
cock was like the rest of Bruce. It was big and strong and very much
a man’s cock.
“Well?”
He wanted me to say something.
“It’s
big,” I muttered nervously.
“Yeah,
it is. But you know something?”
“What?”
I couldn’t let go.
I
eased the pressure in my fingers. It was nice just holding his cock,
not moving my hand. There was no need to. Blaine’s penis,
unlike my penis, was made to be rubbed. Mine liked to be held and
squeezed on the end. I held Bruce’s cock the same way. The
warmth of it soaked into my hand. It felt like it was warming the
rest of my body. My hand quickly became sweaty.
“By’s
cock is way bigger than mine,… korea nymphet and it still goes up Blainey’s
bum,” Bruce whispered. “All the way up, too.” He
squeezed his hand over mine. “I’ve lovely nymphets underage
seen it,” he
added. It sounded like he was panting.
I
didn’t answer. My heart thundered.
“He
likes it too,” Bruce continued. His voice quavered with
excitement.
“They
aren’t poofters,” I mumbled. Suddenly, I wasn’t
certain. “They aren’t, are they?”
“They’re
like us, mate,” Bruce answered obliquely. “They have fun
together because there’s no girls around for By to stuff.”
His
hand left mine. I didn’t release my grip. Cautiously, I inched
my hand up the engorged stake. Bruce’s hand returned to my
penis, taking possession again. I shifted closer to him so that he
didn’t have to reach so far down.
“Yours
is way stiffer than mine,” Bruce observed after a moment or two
of wholesome inspection.
He
gave my penis an experimental rub. Once up, once down, very lightly,
grazing the surface with his fingertips rather than trying to move
the skin over the bone-like hardness inside. I quivered beside him.
“By
was right on the money when he said your skin is really tight.”
He
was right about that. The skin was pulled tight. It was how I had
been circumcised, only I didn’t know it at the time. The
country doctor who delivered me and performed the obligatory
circumcision the next day apparently preferred the high and tight
look, or maybe the clamp was placed too far down, or there was some
other reason for it. At the time all I knew was that the skin on
Blaine’s erection was tight too, but it wasn’t nearly as
tight as mine. The difference was more noticeable when our penises
were limp. His penis had a frilly collar just below the head, while
there was a thin rippled ridge that was visibly much further down the
shaft of my penis. The head of my penis wasn’t nearly as large
as Blaine’s, but it flared and stood out from the shaft even
more than his did.
“He
was saying that when you wank you ought to use something to make it
slippery.”
“Like
what?”
“Hm,
you could try some petroleum jelly, I guess. Maybe some suntan oil.
It’s pretty greasy.”
“Or
spit.” I giggled. Spit was slippery, at least it was slippery
inside Blaine’s mouth. How badly I wanted to repeat that
experience, either with my penis in Blaine’s mouth, or his
penis in my mouth.
“I
know how to make it really tinynymphets slippery. I could suck it instead?”
Bruce offered good-naturedly. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing
or not especially after what I had been thinking. “Do you want
me to?”
“No.”
I
took a deep breath. I wanted him to. The problem was that I didn’t
want to suck his cock. However, I would give anything to be able to
suck Blaine’s penis. I wanted that sweet boy-taste in my mouth
again more than I could stand. Anyone who has had oral sex with an
immature boy knows what I mean. It’s addictive, and all it
takes is one time. It’s an obsession that stays with you for
the rest of your life.
“Not
now, okay?”
“Okay.
What do you want to do?” Bruce asked in a rush.
He
sounded excited, as excited as I was. I licked my lips, vaguely
wondering what it would taste like. Blaine’s penis tasted
sweet, not sugary sweet but like something that was warm and soft. It
was unforgettable. It had the same wonderful memorable taste frehs little nymphets pics
that
every prepubescent boy’s penis has.
“Get
on top,” I instructed.
I
took a quick breath. I was breathless. Had I really said that? I
suppose I must have. My mind was in whir. Bruce clambered over me,
dislodging the sheet, making the couch squeak. He lowered himself
onto me, again using his knees and elbows to take his weight. Our
bellies and chests came together. From his position I knew that he
was looking down at me even if I couldn’t see his face in the
darkness. He was going to kiss me again like he had done on the
beach. This time I wanted to be ready. I licked my lips and tried to
take a deep breath. It was strange, lying there beneath him, waiting
for something to happen, my heart thumping inside me, anxious and
frightened because what I was about to do was what poofters did. Yet,
my thoughts were happy ones. I offered my mouth to Bruce, even
puckering up.
Our
heads came together in slow motion. The first kiss was soft and
tender, gentle brushes of our lips. Bruce’s hands held my head
steady, his fingers behind my ears. His thumbs stroking my cheeks. I
felt the moist warmth from his nose as he breathed. His lips moved
back and forth over my lips. I’m sure that I kissed back, but
when it finished, I wasn’t sure of anything. I trembled under
him, breathless, heart shaking, hard-dick straining excitement. No
sex education class could have prepared me for what I felt. My arms
lifted up instinctively, locking behind Bruce’s neck, pulling
his face back down again. The second kiss was longer, harder, wetter.
His lips swirled over mine, spreading saliva between us. No wonder
they called it swapping spit. His kiss, our kiss, became urgent,
desperate, the longing bursting out of both of us in fierce passion.
We broke apart, both shaking from the sheer intensity. I gasped for
air, swallowing, tasting Bruce and the lingering tang of beer, still
feeling his lips. I was vaguely aware that his tongue had been inside
my mouth, that for part of the time we had been kissing we’d
been somehow joined.
“Now
that’s real French kissing,” Bruce murmured.
“And
you didn’t even have to give me a beer.”
He
snickered with amusement. “Oh man! I can’t believe this.
You’re so fucking sexy.”
He
nodded, kept nodding as if nodding gave credence to his claim. His
fingers curled in my hair, tugging, demanding more. I closed my eyes,
inhaled deeply, and offered my lips again, not puckered, but open for
his tongue. His face back to mine again, and we kissed, his tongue
behind my lips, rubbing over my teeth. For once I found myself not
worrying that what I was doing was what poofters did. To Bruce, my
acquiescence was as feminine as putting on makeup and wearing a
skirt. We kissed and kissed, me sucking on Bruce’s tongue, him
nibbling on my lips, trying to lure my tongue to venture forth. We
kissed until our chins were covered with saliva, until both of us
were quivering from the sheer thrill of it.
“You
keep kissing like that and I’m going to spunk all over you,”
Bruce gushed.
His
hand felt between us, easily finding my erection, clasping it firmly,
his fingers massaging my testicles.
“Such
tiny balls for a horny boy,” Bruce teased. “You want me
to wank you?”
I
nodded eagerly. His fingers glided along my taut penis, tickling,
tantalising in nymphet fotos a way that Blaine had never done to me. His thumb
stroked the head until I groaned and wanted him to stop. It was
torture of a kind I had never known. His thumbnail began scratching
in the furrow, circling, then squeezing the hard little bulb between
his thumb and forefinger until I whimpered. He stopped. Bruce brought
his lips back to mine, not savagely, but forcefully taking what was
his to take. I couldn’t stand it. I shuddered and writhed
underneath him. He drew away, looked down at me. He licked where my
lips had been. For the last part of the kiss, my tongue had been
inside his mouth.
“I’d
fuck you in a flash, if you said yes. You don’t that, don’t
you mate?”
I
nodded. My mind raced ahead. Would it hurt? Terribly?
“Do
you,… “ Bruce paused. His pelvis moved, thrusting his
cock along my belly, forcing it into my chest. I knew what he was
going to say before he said it. He wanted to put his cock inside me,
not in my mouth, but in my bottom. I wasn’t sure what I wanted.
All I could think was that if Blaine did that with Byron, why
couldn’t I do the same thing with Bruce.
“Do
you want me to?”
I
didn’t answer. If I did that it would mean that I was a
poofter.I wasn’t sure whether it would mean that Bruce was a
poofter. For him, it might be nothing more than two guys having some
fun together because there were no girls available. For me it would
be two guys having sex because they wanted to.
“I
can’t promise it won’t hurt a bit, Allan, because it
will.”
I
kept looking up, feeling his thick hard cock pushing into me.
“The
thing is, you have to trust the guy who does it to you the first
time. It’s not that bad. The first time I did it, I was about
your age.”
“Not
now,” I squeaked. I must have sounded like a frightened mouse.
He
nodded. “Okay,… I understand. I’m not going to
rush you. But man, you are so fucking sexy. I have to get off
something awful.”
“I
can wank you if you want?” I offered.
“You
don’t want to suck me, huh? No,… I didn’t say
that, okay. Wanking is great.”
Bruce
shifted to the side so that he lay next to me. One arm slipped around
my shoulders to hold me close to him.
“Do
you and Blainey take turns wanking, or do each other at the same
time?”
“Take
turns.”
Blaine
and I were both right-handed so it was easier to take turns than to
sit side by side and not have an arm get in the way. It didn’t
feel as good using our left hands.
“Cool.”
Bruce wriggled closer to me so that his cock pressed into my hip. “Do
you know what’s even more fun than wanking, Bunny?” he
asked mischievously. “And it isn’t getting your dick
sucked?” he added quickly.
He
didn’t wait for my answer. His right hand grasped my hip
furthest away from him and he flipped me onto my side to face him.
Our penises were close together, parallel, throbbing side by side.
Although they had not touched, I could still feel the heat from his
cock. I felt his hand wrap around my penis, drawing it down until it
was perpendicular to my body. I wasn’t prepared for what
happened next. His cock seared mine with its heat. They were clamped
together in the vice like grip of his hand.
“First,…
we put our dicks together,… like this,…” he
breathed. His tongue swirled in my ear. “It feels nice, doesn’t
it? My big one and your little one.”
“Yeah.”
“Your
dick is so hot,” he whispered.
His
hand moved, or rather that was what it felt like for a moment or two.
Suddenly, I realised that it wasn’t his hand but his cock that
had moved. I almost jerked away. He was rubbing his cock against
mine. It felt much nicer than being rubbed by hand. Cannily, he
waited until I settled down before he did it again. One slow, gentle,
forceful thrust. It felt as if our penises were melting, merging
together. A million nerves were activated in the most sensitive part
of my body. A sigh of pleasure passed through me. I would never be
the same again. Wanking was fun and enjoyable, but this? This was
wonderful. nymphet sluts On his third thrust, I moved too, just to see how it bbs image nymphet would
feel. His hand squeezed tighter, gripping the tight skin of my penis.
I groaned in ecstasy. The pressure released slowly, allowing my cock
to move back.
“Good?”
“Yeah,
it's good.” It sounded more like a groan came from my mouth
than words.
He
exhaled, waiting, rocking forward, pausing, pulling back, moving his
thick hard cock in, then out. There were times when his movements
were deliberate, at other times erratic. He seemed to be gradually
losing control, even shuddering as he jerked away.
“It’s
better with something to make it slippery, especially with your skin
being tight the way it is,” Bruce said anxiously, his
expression suggestive, tempting.
“Huh?'
“Slippery,....
so they slide together. Um,... You don’t mind if there’s
some spit on your dick, do you?”
I
nodded, not really thinking about it, wanting only for the sensations
to continue. His hand nymphets young angels
released me and our penises returned to the
normal position. In the darkness, I heard his mouth expel saliva.
Lots of saliva. I don’t know where it came from because my
mouth was dry. I wanted him to take hold of my cock again. It was
almost more than I could stand, and he hadn’t even rubbed it.
All he did was hold my penis and squeeze it against his and move so
that his cock did all the work. His hips thrust rhythmically, pushing
against me, driving his penis back and forth, sometimes
energetically, even forcefully, but it was so smooth and soft that
there was no friction, just nice feelings.
“Move
closer so we don’t have to pull them down so far.”
I
wriggled closer, putting nymphet sleeping
my hips right in front of his, Our penises
touched again, both of them unwavering in their stiffness. His hand
closed around them again. Clasping. Hotter. Slippery. It felt better
with them sliding side by side.
“Use
your hand too,” he muttered.
There
wasn’t much room for my hand. It was squashed, but finally I
managed to cup the head of Bruce’s cock and touch the tip of
mine with my fingers. Bruce’s rozenmaiden nymphets cock slid slowly forward,
squeezed into my hand, then receded. I took that as my cue and did
the same before I discovered that my hand was covered in slime. My
cock throbbed, as much from the intense stimulation as from the
realisation of what we were doing. This had to be what 'fucking' was
like. It was the only logical explanation for what Bruce was doing.
He was pretending.
For
the next few movements, our thrusts were simultaneous. I gasped, not
believing. It felt entirely natural as I strained against his hot
thighs, as his massive penis squashed into mine. Without warning,
Bruce’s hand moved to the back of my head, forcing my face up,
bringing his mouth onto mine. My heart surged from the sheer thrill
of knowing what came next. I needed no encouragement. We kissed, our
hips jerking back and thrusting forward, pumping our cocks through
his slimy hand. It was like having my penis in Blaine’s mouth,
only I could control the sensations. The sensations were almost
overpowering. Within seconds we were trembling.
“Oh
fuck!” Bruce groaned. “I’m going to spunk big time
if we keep doing this.”
By
then, I was beyond caring. My hips moved instinctively, driving me
onwards, closer and closer to the inevitable ‘jerks’,
that until then I had only experienced with Blaine. I struggled to
hold back the surge that kept getting stronger and stronger, but it
wasn’t anything like jerking off. It was impossible to stop.
Our thrusting became faster and faster. Frenzied. Frantic, Labouring
to breath. Slamming back and forth through the slick flesh of our
hands. Bruce lasted a minute, perhaps less. By then, the saliva was
beginning to dry up, but neither of us were prepared to stop, not
even for a second. He tensed suddenly, labouring, the heat searing
us, melding our parts into one. I hugged him and felt him pushing
into me in response, together clenching our penises tightly as if we
could possibly hold it back. Something ached inside me, something
was throbbing urgently. I wanted it to end, to never stop. His teeth
closed on my tongue, keeping it inside his mouth. Bruce was in
control. I felt like a rag doll as he forced me to lie back, down,
under him, giving him whatever it was that he wanted. For a few
moments he stopped still, then grunting nymphets bald pics
he began grinding his cock
against mine again. His thrusting became furious out-of-control
lunges, hard, forceful pushes that shoved list sites nymphet me into the bed. He
ejaculated over me.
Even
after he had finished and collapsed, I wasn’t certain of what
had occurred. All I felt was a sudden increase in the hardness of
the huge cock that was along side mine. It was followed by a series
of pulses inside it, and with each one an intense warmth squired out
in gushes over my hand. The glorious slippery warmth that changed a
boy forever. Bruce groaned and hugged me tightly, mashing his body
against mine. His thrusts slowed, became erratic, stopped. My penis
was throbbing. I wanted to keep moving, sliding inside Bruce’s
grasping squeezing fist. My instincts were strong, appreciating that
I had to stop even if I had not achieved the ‘jerks’.
Gasping, almost hurting inside, I stopped moving. Then, Bruce ceased
squeezing as well. My penis escaped his grasp and slapped against my
belly with a wet squelch.
“Oh
man!” He took a deep breath. “Oh man! That was the best
ever.”
He
lifted up and felt between us. His fingers slipped over my belly. He
rubbed his fingers in it, smearing it around, down to my pubis,
around my balls, back to my belly button. He gave my achingly hard
penis a playful tug on the way.
“Sorry
about that. Man, that was so fucking good. I guess I spunked all over
you, didn’t I?”
At
least I knew what it was then, free nude nymphet which was reassuring because the
ignorant part of me was thinking he had urinated on me. That was the
only thing that ever came out of a penis in that amount. Blaine
ejaculated one or two droplets, barely enough to taste. His brother
released a veritable torrent of semen. From the warmth it felt like
it reached from my groin to my shoulders. It felt like I was covered
with it. His fingers danced up my chest then back to my navel. innocent pussy nymphet
It nymphet swimsuits was
everywhere. He kept smearing it around until the strings of semen
became a wet sheen on my abdomen. I didn’t mind. It felt nice.
“At
least I don’t have to worry about getting you up the duff, do
I?” Bruce joked.
“Huh?”
“Getting
you preggers.”
“Like
I’m a guy,” I rebuked.
“Yeah,
I’ve noticed.” He flipped at my penis again. The hardness
had not diminished. “You really need to get off, don’t
you mate?”
“Huh?”
Bruce
laughed softly. “Geez. Get off. Spunk up. What do you and
Blainey call it? The ‘jerks’ right?”
I
nodded absently. He little nymphet gallerie took my semen-covered penis back in his equally
semen-covered hand. Blaine was good at wanking, but Bruce was
incredible. The slipperiness made it even better. He gave my penis a
few slow strokes from top to bottom. His slimy thumb rubbed and
squeezed on the tip, then braced against two of his fingers. I held
my breath as be began to pick up the pace. His other hand came from
below to take hold of my testicles. One stray finger nymphet nues pushed between
my buttocks and rubbed at my anus. Within seconds I was twitching,
then writhing, then lifting up my body to get even more stimulation.
His finger stabbed around my anus. It was trying to get inside. I
clenched tightly, holding it outside. I wasn’t ready for that,
yet something told me it would be even better if he did put his
finger inside me. Bruce backed off, started rubbing there instead. He
did it very gently until I relaxed. However, his other hand became a
blur. The skin of my penis was so tight that masturbation wasn’t
as enjoyable for me as it was for some boys, but it became even
tighter as my penis swelled. It didn’t matter. His slippery
fingers slid up and down, torturing my penis without creating
noticeable friction.
After
only a half minute or so, I felt the ‘jerks’ coming on
the way they usually did. There was pressure deep inside me, an ache
in my testicles. The need to strain down, to thrust my penis faster
and faster. My knees lifted up, levering my buttocks off the bed.
Bruce’s hand pumped. I closed my eyes, tried to block out the
inevitable explosion. Sometimes, it was so bad that it hurt. Faster.
Faster. Trembling.
“Faster!
Faster!” I pleaded.
Even
though I expected it, I wasn’t ready. It had never been like
that. Never with the same overwhelming mind-boggling surge, the sense
of exploding. It made me grunt as I tried to inhale. My penis
spasmed, jerking between Bruce’s fingers, ejaculating nothing
but sheer joy. My body jerked in response, heaving my hips up and
down as I fucked Bruce’s hand. It seemed to go on forever. It
was over in a matter of seconds. I slumped down onto the bed,
drained. My penis slipped from Bruce’s hand. He cradled my
testicles in his other hand. I was barely aware of his finger underage nymphets tgp pulling
out of my anus. I had not realised it was there. I didn’t know
how far inside me it had gone, but one the way out it felt like a
long distance.
“Good
one, huh Bunny,” he said soothingly.
I
nodded unintelligently. I was a very confused boy. For a few moments
before I drifted off to sleep I had the strangest thought. I wondered
what his cock would feel like if it had been inside me instead of
being in our hands.
Chapter
15
Waking
early in the morning, when everyone else was still asleep, gave a
person a chance to think alone. It was also the nicest time of day at
Brindajari because it was cool and the animals, and I always took
advantage of it, even in winter. That morning I got up quietly,
perhaps an hour before sunrise. On the way to the beach I picked up
my board shorts from where I had left them on the deck. I carried
them just in case, throwing them high up into the air and catching
them with a leap. That morning I thrived on the fresh salty air, the
freedom of being naked and not having a care in the world. It was
only when I reached the beach that I realised that I wasn’t the
care-free boy who I thought I was.
I
stopped at the water’s edge, enjoying the cool water on my
feet, playing in the creamy-white foam with my toes. Life was good.
Life was fun. Then, I itched my side. It all came back in a flash. I
hadn’t had that much beer to drink that I couldn’t
remember lying in bed with Bruce. Playing ‘footsies’.
Rubbing our penises together. His cock spewing its hot juice all over
me. That was teen nymphet pix
what it was. The thin layer of crusty nymphet tgp free film that coated
the front of my abdomen was Bruce’s semen. It looked like dried
snail-trail, but there was more of it. It was all over me, from my
breast to my groin.
“It’s
spunk,” I said aloud. “Gross.” But it wasn’t
gross.
I
scratched my chest, scraping some tiny flakes away. I couldn’t
remember anything after Bruce had given me the best ‘jerks’
I’d ever had. I must have fallen asleep almost usenet archive nymphets immediately.
Bruce must have rubbed it all over my front. I remembered him doing
my belly and chest. I remembered his slippery hand and how good it
had felt sliding up and down my penis. There were dry flakes clinging
to my dangling penis as well. For some reason I began to scratch at
it, itching. The itch travelled quickly. It was impossible to catch.
His semen was everywhere, even on my nipples. I had been itchy the
previous morning and now I knew why. Bruce had ejaculated between my
buttocks while I was asleep. Then, as now, I wanted to wash it off.
Not because it was dirty or bad, because nymphet teen young tgp it wasn’t. Strange as
it might seem, I really didn’t nymphet posts mind that he had done that to
me. I simply had the feeling that I wasn’t clean. A day earlier
and I would have been disgusted by the very idea of having it on my
body.
I
waded ankle deep into the foamy water and squatted down. I brought
handfuls of water up to my chest and belly, rinsing, rubbing, washing
it away. It came off easily. I washed my penis and scrotum thoroughly
because they were the itchiest part. I washed under my arms in case
he had rubbed it there as well. Finally, I splashed water underneath
me so that my crack was wet. Only then did I consider the possibility
that Bruce had not ejaculated between my buttocks, but inside my
bottom. I wasn't at all sure of what I thought about young nymphet small him doing that
to me. I didn't like the idea, that much was certain, but then,
neither did I hate it. And nymphets teen porn then I reasoned with innocent logic that
it hadn’t happened, because as tired though I was after the
long drive from Sydney, I would never have slept through Bruce doing
that to me.
Still
squatting, I cautiously lifted my hand up to touch between my cheeks.
For some reason, I pictured Blaine lying back against Byron, with two
of Byron’s fingers lodged nymphettes illegales nues inside his anus. Inside. Not just in
the crack were my fingers were, but inside the hole where it was
dirty. As innocent as I still was, I had no idea why Byron would do
that to him, just as I didn't understand why Bruce would want to do
the same thing to me, but at the same time there was no doubt in my
mind that Blaine had enjoyed it.
There,
in the shallow foamy water, in the soft light of early morning I
touched my anus, really touched it for the first time in my life. It
felt like an anemone, a hot little anemone. It was like the anemones
that Blaine I had spent the afternoon of the previous day tormenting
in the rock pools below the headland. It was puckered up and tightly
closed as if defying that something could ever go in.
Then,
I remembered the night before, the feeling, strangely enjoyable in
itself, of Bruce’s finger pulling out, the way it pulled my
body with it, the sense of being empty when it came free. nude jailbait nymphets
His finger,
which was every bit as big and thick as Blaine’s penis, had
been buried inside me. I rubbed my fingers back and forth over the
wrinkled indentation. It was so sensitive, so lewd, so depraved that
it was impossible not to enjoy it. The one part of my body that I had
always considered disgusting was a source of instant delight.
Curiously, I pushed my fingertip into the opening. Like an anemone,
it resisted by closing up. I felt something inside me tightening.
Even my balls retracted. I felt rejected. I stood up and ambled back
to the firm sand of high tide.
The
sun was just beginning to breech the horizon. The sea was still dark.
The sky had a yellow tint to it. The surf thundered an endless
welcome. It was beautiful, intense, life changing. I had watched
hundreds, perhaps thousands of sunrises at Brindajari, but none of
them were like this. The sheer drama of it took my breath away. The
sliver of sun began to grow. I knew better than to look directly at
the sun for longer than a few seconds, even at sunrise. I watched the
waves appear from the gloom. They were much bigger than the day
before. I sucked on my tongue, a habit that drove my grandmother to
despair.
Without
really thinking about, nymphets jpeg
I put my right forefinger in my mouth, wet it
with slippery saliva, and proceeded to suck on it. It was Blaine's
penis. Hard, unyielding, foreign, hot. The thrill grew instantly. I
shivered, but not from being cold. I knew exactly what I was going to
do next. I wet my finger thoroughly, spitting on it again and again
until it was covered with foamy spit. My hand trembled as I moved it
carefully behind me so as not to wipe off any of the saliva. Was I
really going to do this? I took a deep breath. Yes, I was. No one
would ever know. The first rays of sun were just beginning to reach
me. I felt as if I was being bathed by it, my nakedness exposed to it
alone. But how to do it? Standing up, my buttocks were pinching
together. They needed to be apart, the way that Blaine’s cheeks
had been when he was sitting in Byron’s lap, or mine when I
squatted in the surf with Bruce. I squatted and brought my hand up
from underneath. I rubbed down the furrow until it came across the
creased dimple. After the first pass, I needed more saliva. I licked
my finger again quickly, making sure that most of the saliva was on
the tip. I brought it back, this sweet young nymphets time from the front. I felt under my
scrotum with my other fingers, searching. It was further back than I
expected. It was a stretch. I poked at it with my wet finger. The
slipperiness of it took my breath away. My finger pushed through the
wrinkly opening. I gasped and felt the sun on my face. It wasn’t
very far inside, but it was inside. There was no doubt about it. I
could feel my finger just inside my body even as my muscles tried to
squeeze it out again. I took a deep breath and pushed.
“Oh
man!”
My
finger was halfway inside my anus before I realised it. I hadn’t
even pushed that hard because I was afraid of hurting myself. There
was no pain at all. None. There wasn’t a lot of pleasure
either, at least not at first. The pleasure came later. There was
just the incredible sensation of having my finger up my bum! It
wasn't all that far inside and I felt funny all over. Quivering,
trembling funny. Not-stopping-to-regain-my-breath funny. I kept
pushing. It glided easily into my rectum, deeper and russian nude model nymphets
deeper. My
sphincter muscle offered no resistance at all. I stopped only when my
finger could go no further. I shuddered and tried to make my body
relax and accept it.
That
morning, although I didn’t know what it was called, I
discovered that there was a very strong muscle just inside the
opening. The natural function of that muscle was to push things out
and keep them out. It took a good deal of coaxing before it worked in
reverse. The coaxing consisted entirely of cautiously moving my
finger in and out. The muscle gave way very slowly, but at least it
didn’t hurt. It simply felt strange. After a few back and forth
movements my finger began to loose its slipperiness as if drying off
from the heat within. Instead of pushing and pulling, I began to
wriggle it around inside me. If I twisted it if felt like a
corkscrew. If I lifted it up,….
“Oh
God!”
There
was a pressure point inside my bottom, a pleasure zone that was right
at the end of my finger. I didn’t know the words that described
my anatomy, words like sphincter, rectum and prostate were a foreign
lexicon. All I knew was how good it felt. I strained down, pushing
against my finger, struggling to get my finger in deep enough that
more than my fingertip was there. I wanted more. I needed to increase
the pressure. I wanted it deeper even if started to hurt. The muscle
contracted by itself, squeezing back on my finger. I groaned and
tried to relax, suddenly tired. It was as if my energy was rushing
out of me. My knees felt weak. I came off my haunches and settled
forward with my knees in the sand, bracing myself as I forced my
finger upwards to where my belly was. Something made me gasp, inhale
and not breath out again. I could stop myself from trembling.
The
sensation wasn’t disagreeable. It wasn’t entirely painful
or delightful, but somewhere between the two extremes, or both mixed
together. I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that I had to do it
again. I breathed out slowly before I deliberately levered my finger
upwards. The angle was wrong. My finger wasn’t long enough. It
felt good, but it wasn’t enough, even if I pushed down with all
my strength. I sensed the possibilities ahead even as I realised why
someone else had to do it to me. That was why it felt so wonderful
when Bruce did it to me during the night. His fingers were much
larger than mine. It wasn’t something that a boy could do for
himself because his fingers weren’t big enough and he couldn't
get them far enough inside. Someone else, a grown-up, had to do it to
him.
So
I stopped. I smelled my finger after it was out. I could hardly smell
it but what there was, was both disgusting and delightful. My finger
came out clean and the smell was barely noticeable. It was still
wet, just not as much. I could have reinserted it again without
difficulty. I resisted doing it despite the empty sensation that
persisted until I stood up and began to walk down the beach. For no
other reason than I was embarrassed by what I had done, I started to
run. I ran and ran, running as fast as I could go because I wanted to
leave my worries behind me. Running flat-out was the best way to do
it.
My
sprint down the deserted breach lasted for several minutes. Then, I
jogged, splashing through the water, playing my
toss-the-board-shorts-and-catch-them game. A few times when my timing
was off, they landed in the water. Eventually, my jogging slowed to a
walk. Only then did I start to think about it. My world had been
turned upside down. Allan James Harding, heir apparent to Brindajari
was a poofter. So was his best friend. And his best friend’s
brother. And Byron. All of us? Hardly likely. Maybe it was just me? I
stopped and stared out to sea. The golden orb of the sun was above
the horizon. It had happened so quickly. One day I was a normal kid,
and the nymphets ls elwebbs next? I stuck my finger up my bum to see what it would feel
like. I shook my head and stopped.
“You
can’t be,” I said miserably. I kicked at the water.
“Fucking poofter!” The words sounded remote. Everything
was wrong. My life was ruined. “No!” I took a deep
breath. “Damn! Bloody shit! Fuck! Cunt! Poofter!”
At
eleven years old, a boy didn’t cry very often, yet tears welled
up in my eyes before I could stop them. Every one I knew would hate
me if I was a poofter. My mother would never talk to me again. I
wouldn’t have a single friend. Not even Blaine. We’d made
jokes about poofters too often for me to think otherwise. And I was
one of them. I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes. I blinked. I
stared at the waves, thinking how very easy it would be to die. I
could be slammed underneath one, to be crushed onto the sand when the
wave broke and I might not come up alive. Then, in nymphet pee the still grey
surf, right behind the line of a breaking wave, I saw the fin. A huge
fin. A curved fin that was grey at the tip. It zigzagged suddenly.
Dolphins didn’t do that. They went up and down. It was too big
for a dolphin anyway. It disappeared. I waited without knowing why,
wanting it to reappear, just to make certain that my eyes weren't
deceiving me. When I saw it again it was closer, cutting through the
quieter water of the channel. I kept looking until it was out of
sight.
Strangely,
seeing the tiger shark took fresh nude little nymphets away my self-loathing. I began to walk
back towards the headland, to where the others were still asleep in
the shack. I had run a surprisingly long pedo girl nymphet pics
way. On the way back, in my
usual unrelenting manner, I figured out a solution to my problem. In
a way it really didn’t matter if I liked girls or not. Even if
I was a poofter, all I had to do was to pretend otherwise. No one
would know but me that my life was make believe. With the naivety
that only an eleven-year-old boy can possess, I promised myself that
from that day forward, I, Allan James Harding, would not be a
poofter. I felt a lot better after that.
By
the time I got back to the shack they were out of bed and cooking
breakfast. However, instead of going inside, I stayed on the deck. I
could hear their voices clearly, too clearly.
“You
really spunked on him, Bruce?” photonymphet Blaine asked with a giggle.
“Yep.
The little bugger didn’t expect it I guess, so I almost fucking
drowned him in it.” Bruce sounded proud. “Man, it went
everywhere. He looked so fucking sexy afterwards.”
“All
wet and slimy, huh? You gave him a real spunk bath.” Byron
laughed. “Good for you. Did he get off?”
“Yeah,
but only after I wanked him for a while. He went hot nymphet teen
off like a bunger at
the end. I was afraid he’d wake you guys up.”
“Cool.”
Blaine sounded impressed. “He really let you wank him?”
“Yeah.”
“Mostly
he just wants young nymphettes me to play with the head.”
“That’s
probably because the elite nymphete com
skin on his dick is so tight. I've never seen
one that's so tight. Poor little guy. I wonder who did it to him.”
That was Byron.
“Why
is it like that?” Blaine asked. “His is way tighter than
mine.”
“Search
me, Blainey. Ask your dad, he’s the doctor in the family. I
guess that’s how it’s done sometimes.”
”Maybe
the doctor cut too much off by mistake,” Bruce suggested. “Or
his dick grew longer afterwards.”
“More
likely his gran probably wanted him done like that, nice and tight so
her little boy wouldn’t be able to wank himself silly.”
Everyone
laughed. I smiled too. I loved my grandmother, but no matter what it
was, I always had to do things her way. She set such a high standard
for me that I could never satisfy her. I tried my best to, but I
never reached it. There were times when I wondered whether she really
liked me. It was difficult to tell sometimes. She was very strict
about what I did. Sometimes, she showed she cared. For example, my
staying on the school football team was a constant struggle between
us every time I came home with a bruise, yet if I fell off my horse,
she always told me to get back on but be more careful. If I didn’t
eat everything on my plate, she was certain to comment about the
starving Chinese. Like most Australians, our family wasn’t what
could be called ‘religious’, but she still made me go to
Sunday school every week. What good it did me, I never knew.
My
grandmother was very conservative, a true dyed-in-the-wool Country
Party voter. If young model nymphets she even suspected what I did with Blaine she would
have shipped me off to boarding school and forbidden me to ever talk
to him again. Indeed, she talked long and hard with my mother about
doing just that, sending me to a boarding school when I started high
school, There were several in the Blue Mountains, including one at
Katoomba which would have been conveniently on the way from Sydney to
Brindajari. The subject came up often enough that she sounded like a
broken record. It would, as she put it, not only make a real man of
me, but it would also bring me into contact with the right people,
whoever they were. As far as I was concerned, Blaine and his family
were the ‘right people’. For good reason, I spent more
time at his house than I did at mine.
“So
what else did you do?” Blaine asked boldly.
“Guess.”
“No
idea.” Byron laughed suddenly. “You didn’t!”
“Nope!
I wish. Man oh man, I wish, but I did stick my finger up his bum.”
“Now
you’re talking. How did it go?” Byron demanded.
“Okay.”
“Did
he like it?”
“Hm,...”
“Blimey,
mate. Out with it. Did he like it?”
“Yeah,
I guess he did.”
“You
guess he did?” Byron said sarcastically. “Geez. It's like
pulling teeth. Okay, did he say anything?”
“No,
not really. I think he did. I mean he acted like he enjoyed it. He
sure didn’t want to chat about it afterwards.”
“Oh,
he liked it all right. He’s one hundred percent pure poof. He
just doesn’t know it yet.”
“I
sure as hell hope so.”
“More
like ‘I know so’, Bruce. In fact, I can fucking guarantee
it.”
“You
reckon?”
“How
can you tell?” Blaine asked.
“For
one, from how he looks at other guys’ dicks. He’s always
staring at yours, Blainey. Plus he's always getting a stiffie when
Blaine's close to him, or haven’t you noticed?”
“Yeah.
Of course, I’ve bloody noticed. I’m not blind. But
they’re best friends,…”
“That’s
true, but he’s also got a thing for you. He likes you a lot and
he already knows you like him, thanks to old Blainey here doing what
I told him. Give him a few more days to warm up to you. He’s a
nervous nellie right now. He needs to get used to the idea of guys
having sex before he lets you have a go at his bum.”
“You
really think so?”
“Christ
almighty. You’re talking to the fucking expert you nymphets girlies know. Aren’t
you paying attention? Bruce, I know so. You already told me he was
showing some interest in what Blainey and me do, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.
He asked a bunch of questions that’s for sure. He wanted to
know if it hurt when your cock went up Blaine’s bum,”
Bruce snickered.
“See?”
“So
what did you tell him?” Blaine laughed.
“Nothing
that wasn’t true. It didn’t seem to faze him all that
much.”
“Why
am I not surprised by that? Look there’s something I should
have told you yesterday. You’re going to have to be real
careful with him,” Byron added. “I pretty sure he’s
having a difficult time adjusting to seeing Blainey and me together.
He’s naked nymphets jpg probably a bit jealous because Blaine’s been his
best friend and all forever. Here’s the thing. I reckon you’ll
be able to take Blaine’s place if you play your cards right.
Just don’t go for him like a bull in china shop or he’ll
run for his mum.”
“Be
his friend before you try to do stuff,” Blaine suggested
knowledgeably.
“Like
you’d know,” Bruce sneered.
“Allie
and I have been friends since kindergarten,” Blaine reminded
his brother. “I know him better than both of you.”
“So?”
“He’s
never had a dad, or a big brother, or an uncle who’s a perv.
I'm the only person he's done stuff with, for that matter. It’s
all new to him.”
Blaine
squealed. It was the same sound he made when I tickled him. Like me,
Blaine was very ticklish. Sometimes I didn’t even have to touch
him to get him to burst into giggle. Anticipation was enough.
“Blaine’s
right on,” Byron insisted once the giggles stopped. “Our
cute little farm boy’s grown up with two women constantly
looking over his shoulder. His mum’s okay, but his gran is a
real bitch if ever there was one. He’s all alone like a country
dunny. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be around guys
like us. He probably thinks we’re a bunch of poofs. The last
thing I want him nymphets tube to do is tell anyone what happens up here. That
would be the biggest fucking boo-boo of all time.”
“Just
be his mate, Bruce,” Blaine suggested. “He likes you more
than you think he does.”
“Like?
Man, I need more than fucking like. I think I’m in love with
him,” Bruce muttered.
“Christ
almighty. Who isn’t mate? I’d love to be in your shoes
right now.”
Then,
they stopped talking about me. I didn’t know what to think. My
ears were burning in the way that only an eavesdropper can
appreciate. They hadn’t been trying to hurt me. I wasn’t
certain that I understood everything that had been said, but there
was enough grasp of the subject on my part that I was devastated.
All they had done was tell me about myself. children naked nymphet I wandered to the side of
the deck and gazed at the surf, at waves that were perfectly shaped
as they rolled in from far across the Pacific Ocean. I felt stifled,
and it wasn’t the morning heat building up. I needed to be by
myself and think things out yet again, but it would have to wait
until later in the day.

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Ort:New York, USA
Letzter Zugriff:Friday, 11 October 2013, 11:10  (1020 Tage 19 Stunden)