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I decided, as I looked at him, that he is incredibly beautiful
and I gently brush the smooth satin skin with my hand. I have
watched people’s heads turn and look at him when we are out
together. I have seen men and women stare at the beautiful boy and
I sense that they are attracted, enamored of the boy with the lithe
graceful body. I know they wonder whether I am his father or merely
a friend. The boy feels deliciously warm and his body seems to glow
with energy and life. His skin is perfectly smooth with the silky
oiliness of a child, a dry warmth emanating from a lustrous brown
body.
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Jag’s hands, freed from duty ion the cock, slid easily over Anton’s body, massaging, pressing, brushing, tickling. He knew all of
the right spots to give attention to. When his mouth had carried Anton
beyond any chance of refusing, his fingers explored his anus – tickling the puckered hole till it relaxed. Then an exploring finger entered, searching for the walnut shape that was the prostate gland -
the seat of orgasm. When the shattering, shuddering climax came, that
gland was stimulated from inside and outside. The other hand wrested
the last ounce from the balls as the flood of seminal fluid exploded
from the spunk store, crashing through the prostate, to fly in spasmodic wads up through the straining, surging shaft, filling Jag’s
mouth and throat faster than he could cope with it, and flooding out
down the sides of the pulsing, dying rod. Later Jag licked him completely clean – ready for the companion whom Anton would certainly now
accept to share his bed for the night…
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But Klaudio gave the merest touch with the side of his bent fore-
finger to the underside of the glans. The corona of the penis flared.
He moved his other hand to cup above the shaft, as if warming himself
at its heat. Then slowly he began a two hand movement – the lower hand
a gentle fist the lower joints of whose fingers formed a knobbly flat
platform moving along the underside of the penis, while the other hand
formed a coving arched over the fist, gently trapping the shaft be-
tween them. Slowly it moved up and down the tool, sometimes gripping
enough to move the skin over the hard shaft, sometimes barely grazing
it. Sometimes the hands would move at different speeds, chafing the
surface; sometimes the knuckles or the joints of the fist would be
brought into play, their harder knobbles kneading the surface.
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Then he closed his eyes, flicked the light switch, and rolled over
on his side to sleep.
Anton looked towards the door at the sound, then dropped a hand
quickly to his crotch, to flatten his erection and to conceal it? His
hand gripped his weapon. Feverishly he pulled at the unfamiliar zip,
but by the time Klaudio had entered, his penis was still exposed. Anton froze.
Klaudio stood facing the bed, and smiled. With an exaggerated expression of delight, he started to point to the various parts of the
prick, repeating their names. His pointing finger got closer and
closer, but still he did not touch it. As he got very close, Anton’s
hands clutched at the surface of the bed. How long would he bear this
language lesson, before grabbing his tool and stuffing it hastily away
inside his trousers?
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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!
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He closed the book, laid it flat on his stomach, and passed a hand
down to grasp his shaft, then he began the work of the hand on the rod
of iron. His technique was obviously practised, but unsophisticated.
Writhing; delicious: he was a toe wiggler. The thigh muscles filled -
full buns with deep side hollows and a clean division between the
curve of the bun and the straighter convexity of the under-thigh. As
the knees came up, the deep top grooves were clear, and most inviting.
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The first stage of erection was complete, the ridge of skin below
the corona disappearing into smoothness as the penis filled to its
last inch. He used the towel to remove some of the stickiness from his
plum, wincing a little at the touch of the rough cloth.
Still Anton just lay there, admiring what was certainly very much
to be admired. Then he reached up for a picture book, the stiff member
wobbling in its weak rooting as his upper body arched. He brought the
picture of one beauty to the surface of the bed beside his loins. He
held the open book above his midriff for a long time, look at it, but
making no attempt to stimulate his organ. Apart from the occasionally
pulsing which is natural in an unattended erection, there was no obvious reaction in his tool.
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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.
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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.
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Chad came in the tent and I stopped abruptly. He sat down in
front of us with a smug look on him. “I know what you did last
night,” he said, matter-of-factly.
I didn’t move. Jamey tensed. I could feel his heart starting to
pound. I wasn’t sure what to think but I knew I needed to keep
my composure.
“And what was that??” I questioned.
“You sucked him…I heard you. I even saw you.” Chad grinned.
Jamey was thinking about dying. “Supposed I would tell dad??”
I leaned up on one elbow. “Well if you tell, I’ll personally
kick your ass.” I paused. “And if you DON’T tell, I might do to
you what I did to your brother…that is if you want it.”
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We awoke well after dawn broke. Chad got up before us, opened
the tent to bright sunlight and this day was obviously warmer.
The sun had warmed the tent’s interior so it was nothing like the
chill we’d felt when we got into our sleeping bags the night
before. But it was a very warm and cozy night.
My morning hard on was bigger than usual for my dick was up
against my naked Jamey’s backside. I reached around and squeezed
him several times…whispering for him to wake up. As he did, he
came to the consciousness of where he was, who he was with, and
what we had done. He grinded his bottom into my hardness and his
dick sprang to erection. We just laid there for awhile while I
stroked him and rubbed my hands over his belly and across the top
of his hip which was next to mine.
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“Well that was good. I never came so hard as I did just then.
“Big brother knows how to treat you, Jamey…its our private
little secret…my gift to you,” I whispered and then held him
close.
“I…I dont think I can do that to you.” Jamey felt obviously
badly that he wasn’t ready to reciprocate.
“It’s okay, pal.” I reassured him. “I’d like you to jack me off
if you would…but you don’t have to.”
“No, I can do THAT…at least THAT.”
With that, Jamey’s hand reached down and he worked my dick
as he usually worked his own. I snuggled my face into his brown
hair and thought about his lovely body. When the time came, I
fished up my shirt with my feet and prepared for what was a very
intense orgasm into his hands.
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“More?” I asked.
“Yeah, alot more please.” With his answer, I went back down to
service him. I carressed his back, and his backside. Then I
motioned for him to turn over and he did, eagerly. I put my
cheek on his belly with my mouth just inches way from his rock
hard fourteen year old dick which was plenty moist by this time.
I massaged the shaft of his dick with my hand and slid my face
down the inch or two required to meet the end of his cock with my
lips. I danced my tongue across him and the muscles in his groin
flexed as if he were trying to make his boyhood even longer.
Then I went down on him, making him wet all around and I sucked
on it. I could tell he was enjoying it for he moved his hips so
as to stroke into my mouth. In almost no time, his penis
throbbed and he ejaculated in two or three grand spurts. I
hungrily swallowed his semen and sucked on it and squeezed his
dick as if milking it to get it all. Boyjuice.
Jamey was almost panting…being as quiet as he could but his
chest heaved up and down. I got the lad off good! For the next
minute or two, I attended to his private places…just kissing
his softening dick and his balls and his slender thighs. Making
him warm all over with my lips and my fingers. Finally I
straightened up in the sleeping bag, slipped my leg back between
his and put my arm around him. Face to face, I said. “That pal,
is what they call a good blow job.”
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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.
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“Naked,” I said slowly and I ran my hand from his shoulder, down
his chest, across his bare hip and down his thigh. I put his
free hand on my chest and I put my hand back to his stiff dick.
I felt a drop of precum on the end and I made circular motions
with it on the head. “You’re gonna move too fast, I can tell.” I
said, “let me just rub you all over.” I turned him again so he
was laying on his belly. He had to raise up because while the
sleeping bag was roomy, it wasn’t that big. I remained on my
side and drew one leg up across the back of his legs and then i
proceeded to rub his back and his fourteen year old ass, which
was very firm and very smooth. As my fingers found their way to
the bottom of his crack, he spread his legs out further. I
reached with my fingertips down and tickled the back of his
ballsac. He lifted his hips and arched his back so to give me
more reach and I took advantage and played with his balls from
behind him. He laid there passively feeling every touch, which I
made sure was light and tender. I lowered myself as much as the
bag would allow and managed to get under the covers…and I put
my head on the small of his back and while I played with his
scrotum, I pushed my face further down, trying to get the cheek
of my face to the cheek of his fanny.