As Anton entered, the lithe figure that had been lying on one of
the bunks arose to a relaxed position of attention to greet him. He
was about a year older than Anton, though he looked perhaps a little
younger than him. In many ways he was similar, a little lighter in
build, but clearly athletic. He was black haired, with a light olive
skin – the hair thick on his head and brows, but his body clear, ex-
cept for the inevitable dusting on his legs and lower arms. The per-
fect tan of him was the product of hours under the sun, with due care
to the arrangement of lighter and darker shadings to emphasise his
good looks. He had chosen to keep his sexual midriff white, always
wearing briefs, because he liked the bright contrast of the darker
stomach and thighs and the dramatic shock of thick black pubic hair.
He answered to Jag, or `Lightning Loins’. His voice was as smooth as
his skin and as dark as his hair.

Then again he relaxed. He reached a hand up to move the book,
placing it upright on the bed, propped against the side mirror wall of
the alcove and turned the upper part of his body so that he could
stare at it.

And his eyes thus engaged, he resumed the pumping action. A looser
grip at first, his hand sliding farther up and down the shaft, then a
tighter grip at the top, the side of his finger digging into the sen-
sitive point. He meant to complete the job this time.

His other hand was cupped to his bollocks, the forefinger digging
into the root of the shaft beneath the taut skin. Did he mean to halt
the flowing? His hips and thigh reared up once more, his toes and feet
twisting the sheet into knots beneath them. The sheen on his glans was
lost as the pores open up with the climactic blood flow. He would
come! He would come!

Relaxed – pumping not stopped, but much slowed, and the hand pres-
sure minimal. The he slipped the hand up higher, and began to caress
the point below the glans with the side of his finger. Some fluid had
formed at the eye of his shaft and he slicked it down over the point
as a lubricant.

He began to pump once more in this higher position. His sweat-
dewed face, mouth wide open in rictus of excitement; between the tun-
nel of his legs, the balls, now pulled high and close as orgasm
neared. His shaft was indeed now bending back over his belly as he
left the plateau for the summit.

He switched on the bedlight, and lay admiring the growing weapon.
By now it was no mere stiffy, but a tree in full flare. He watched the
taut skin pulling slowly back across the glistening plum-surface of
his close textured glans. There was no quick flick of the fingers this
time: he was taking his time. When the skin finally caught up on the
flaring corona, the upturned rim of his glorious helmet, he pressed
down with both hands on his pubic lawn, stretching the skin on the
shaft enough to clear the rim.

He transferred his forefinger to the other side of the shaft, and
hooked it below it, supporting it so that the glans, by now doubled in
size, was raised up. His thumb rubbed the upper surface of the shank,
and more fingers joined in the support. He took the hand away, to re-
assure himself of the presence of the towel, to catch the sperm and
perhaps to cover himself in case of an intrusion. When he removed his
hand, the shaft supported itself.

After going to bed, showered and, of course, naked, Anton had lain
awake for some time. Then he got up again and fetched the hand towel
from the wash-station. He placed this by his hips when he lay down.
His intention was obvious. He was lying on his back, with his left
hand caressing the inside of his thigh, and nuzzling up against his
balls. His forefinger began stroking the adjacent testicle. His other
hand was flat on his stomach. His penis lay where it had flopped, the
glans between the other ball and his thigh. It was clearly stirring.

The upper hand began to migrate south, stroking the sensitive skin
of the smooth area between the navel and the pubic hair. He had a
thick forest, but low down and with a clean upper line. When they
reached the root of his phallus, he parted his forefinger and second
finger, and ran this vee down to embrace the thickening shank. A few
pushes, with the fingers curving down to engage with the upper scro-
tum, and the glans looked distinctly heavy.

I easily was able to put my
face on his ass. His legs were wide apart, one between my legs
and the other on the far side of our double wide sleeping bag. I
rubbed my cheek against his asscheek and continued playing with
is balls and inner thighs and fanny with my hand. How I loved
the soft but firm skin of his hairless ass. I turned my mouth to
his fanny now and just made playful nibbles over the round sides
and even at the middle. He was not totally relaxed. He kept his
cheekmuscles tightened so I just licked the crack lightly up and
down but I must have grazed his bumhole for he stuck his ass
straight up in the air, deciding he liked that. I was breathing
heavily and the air in the sleeping bag was getting stale. So I
just gave him one long deep lick, paused for afew seconds on his
asshole and then came up for air.

“I don’t believe you’re doing that.” Jamey said. “But it does
feel mighty good!”

“I figured you liked that, little stepbrother,” I said. “But I
ran out of air.”

He made a larger opening at the top and then kicked the inside of
the bag, effectively sucking in a fresh air supply. Up and down
he expanded the bag so there was an exchange of cool Texas night
air in the bag.

I must have had my head examined for agreeing to campout this
weekend with my younger stepbrothers. Chad and Jamey were the
sons of my dad’s second wife and I wasn’t that excited about
coming to Dallas anyway over spring break. I figured a Texas
April would be warm but tonight, it was colder than I expected
and the skies looked mighty threatening on the ranch’s east
range. I think Dad and Roz were just trying to get rid of us and
they decided I would babysit the boys.

So we’d packed up the camping gear and taken Dad’s pickup on the
ten minute drive to the rolling hills that were his biggest
cowpasture. The boys knew it well for they’d always lived here
but Dad married into ranching. I’d known nothing about this and
of course Dad didnt’ either…but then when Roz has as much money
as she does, he doesn’t have to.

Chad’s a quiet eleven year old and Jamey’s fourteen. Neither of
the boys were as Texan as I’d always thought they should be but
the did know the camping routine. It was, after all, their
camping stuff. They drafted me to do the cooking tonight so we
built your basic fire, ate steaks and potatoes and as darkness
took the spring landscape, we sat around the fire. It was nice
but I wasn’t all that impressed with making conversation with a
couple of boys I didn’t really know all that well. So we talked
about school, ranching, Texas–of course, and our parents. They
wanted to know about life with Dad before Roz so I told em about
that and my mom, who I’ve lived with for most of my life.

Spreading his legs slightly he pressed down into my face. I smelled
the mustiness, licked his moistness. Gently I unzipped his fly, pushing my
nose and mouth into his wine , pulling him to me as my hands cupped his
marvelous ass. I licked his cock through his silk, it grew at my touch. I
pulled his briefs down below his balls. He pushed my head back, pressed
his cock against my lips, and forced it deep into my throat. I gripped it
with my throat, milking it, yearning to suck his come deep inside of me. I
loved him so.

The plan was for Jon to move in with me. We went shopping together
planning out some of the clothes he would need. First there was the
underwear, thongs, briefs, cock socks. I wanted something that would show
him at his delicious best. I made plans with a jeweler for a special
silver ring, about the width of a thumb. Under his pants it would lift his
balls and push his cock up and out, a ready invitation for a gentle cupping
squeeze or a long thirst satisfying suck. But there would have to be a
special ceremony for presenting him with this treasure

First time was in high school while a paperboy. I was collecting
and used to be kidded about my getting tips. I played along even
though I wasn’t sure what the joke was. The two guys were young,
in college I think and always friendly.
I used to love to go to their apartment to collect because they’d
always be lifting weights or horsing around. Usually one if not both
were partically dressed….shorts or jockeys and nothing else. My
cock always got hard.
When those hot summer humid nights came I’d wear my gym shorts at
night and during one July night knocked on their door to collect
my bill. One was in a jockstrap and the other was in a pair of jockeys.
Both were glowing with sweat..they were wrestling or something.
They wrote a check and seemed genuinly embarassed because they didn’t
ahve cash for a tip.
The usual jokes soon resulted and one of them kept looking at my
crotch..my cock was hardening as usual..and in my short that was
clearly visable.
One of them told me to finish my rounds and then come back later..not
matter how late.
He patted my butt as I left which made my dick hard.
I heard them laughing and saying something about making me feel good,
and taking care of my “problem” later. The door wasn’t closed as
they said all this so I assumed they wanted me to hear it.
I finished my rounds and made it home…after saying goodnight to
the folks, I remembered the guys and snuck back out.
They were still awake when I knocked..I apologized for being so late.
They offered me a beer…which made me feel older..so I drank it.
One kept lifting weights and soon had me trying it. As I moved to
the bench the other guy pulled my tee shirt off saying I didn’t want
to get it all sweaty.
I lay on the bench and learned about bench presses trying not to
look up at the crotch of the guy standing at my head..spotting me.
The other one held my thighs down..saying it would be good for me.
I lifted a few times…loving the feeling the weight gave my bare
chest. The one spotting me took the weight and put it one th floor.
The other one had moved his hands up into my shorts and found my
teenage cock and balls. I gasped at his touch.
The one at my head took off his shorts and the sight of his dick
made me want him..though I didn’t know what that meant.
By morning I did.
Cock had been in my butt, throat..and my dick had been in both of
their throats and assholes.
I slept between the two of them..and stood in the shower while they
soaped me up..and one sucked me while the other fucked me there.
I got back home and told my folks I had slipped outside for some
exercise..which wasn’t exactly a lie.
After that, I always had fun delivering their paper and collecting.
I was their paperboy..and pretty much knew they controlled me.
If they had a guest over, I was given to the guest to please them
which I didn’t mind at all.
My acne cleared up..my chest grew from the continued weight training.
When they moved away, I cried.
But I grew too and soon serviced others on my paper route and elsewhere.