It was good to get home for the holidays. Despite having a very supportive
girlfriend, the semester had been a tough one. This was also that moment
when I introduced her to my parents, which I’d been looking forward to
because I was starting to think that this would be the one I’d marry. She
was sweet, she was kind, and she really understood that I could never be
satisfied by only a woman.
That’s part of the reason why my young friend Bobby was coming over to
watch a movie with us. Four years younger than me, I’d met him in Boy
Scouts and kept up the friendship in part because I was crushing on him, a
fact that I had admitted to Maria. Now he was fifteen and hotter than ever,
with light brown hair and a curious little freckle of reddish-brown in one
green eye. It’s not that we were conspiring on seduction or anything like
that; I was eager to see him, and she was curious about this boy from home
I talked about.
Maria had thoroughly charmed my parents during our stay; my mother had
swept her away on a shopping trip for most of the first full day we were
there, then there were the family traditions, and now we were nearly ready
to leave again. I’d been in contact with Bobby for weeks, but I wasn’t sure
I’d actually be able to see him until just a couple hours before he
arrived, dropped off by his mother, who waved from the car before zooming
off. She had been busy as long as I’d known her, and was probably going to
pick up one of his younger brothers from a practice.
“I think you’ve grown!” I said as he reached the door. “Not quite as tall
me yet, but taller than Maria,” I added by way of introduction.
She smacked my side. “Nice introduction,” she said, then smiled at Bobby.
“I’m Maria.” Bobby gave her one of his adorable smiles back, and shook her
hand. He was wearing Syracuse Orangemen gear: blazing-white hoodie and
sweat pants adorned with the logo, with sneakers in a matching orange with
white accents. Not a smudge on any of that white, either, even the
sneakers. The kid was immaculate with his clothes.
He’d arrived late afternoon, and we got to play a few hands of Hearts
before dinner. My family is really into card games. That broke up as my
parents finished up dinner preparations, and the three of us just sat
around talking. Maria is a funny girl, and she enjoyed using her cuteness
to ask disarming questions. While we talked, she turned to him and said,
“So Bobby, how big is your penis?”
I’ll give him credit: he never looked embarrassed. He just thought about it
for a moment, then held up his two index fingers about five inches apart.
Later, Maria told me she wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by his
answering, or how small he said his penis was.
“I don’t think you know how small boy penises can be,” I said to her.
“Maybe, but I know how honest boys can be!” she answered.
During the meal Bobby showed off his Catholic-school manners, and a bit of
his education: he asked good questions as we “solved the world’s problems,”
as my dad liked to say. My mother wouldn’t let him help clear the table,
though.
“Why don’t you pull out the bed downstairs, and watch a movie?” she said to
us. Maria was sleeping in that downstairs room, which also had the best
television, while I got to stay in my childhood room. No hanky-panky under
my parents’ noses! We filed downstairs, pulled out the bed, and picked
something that none of us had ever seen, which wasn’t exactly easy. We all
three stretched out on the bed, Maria between us boys because she doesn’t
trust me not to push her out of bed. I have to admit that she had good
reason for feeling that way; I can really be a hog when I’m passed out.
Awake, though, it was all fine. I snuggled a bit with Maria, we all enjoyed
physical closeness, and it was going fine until Bobby realized that the
movie wasn’t going to end before his stepfather was due to pick him up.
“Can I just stay over?” he asked me. My parents didn’t care as long as
there was someplace for him to sleep, and I offered him space on the floor
of my room next to the captain’s bed I’d used all my life. He called his
mother in time to get permission before his stepfather left the house, else
he would have been picked up no matter what she thought. Bobby’s stepfather
was a man of action.
When the credits rolled, Bobby went up to use the john and I kissed Maria
good night. “I trust you,” she said to me, and then, “Whatever happens
tonight is okay.”
“Really?” I said, my eyes going wide. “I mean, nothing will anyway, but
really?”
She just smiled, and kissed me again. “I know you’ll always come back to
me,” she said. “Have a good night.” She reached for the light, and I headed
after Bobby.
Once I’d brushed my own teeth and gotten Bobby a new toothbrush — which he
used, albeit a bit reluctantly — we went into my room where I set up an
old backpacking mat and sleeping bag on the floor. “You should let me sleep
in the bed,” he said.
“Really?” I asked, trying to stay calm. Did he really want to sleep with
me?
“Yeah, I’m the guest,” he said. “You should get the floor.” I hit him with
a pillow. He laughed.
“Well I’m getting out of this shirt, anyway,” I said. “The sleeves are
really too small for me, and cut into my armpits.”
“Really?” he said. “I like that design. Let me try it on.” He pulled off
his hoodie and the shirt beneath in one motion, and I sighed inwardly. I
didn’t get to see that much skin on him very often, and it always made my
heart melt. I removed the shirt and handed it to Bobby.
He tried it on, and it fit him really well. “You can have it,” I told
him. He sniffed the armpit, then pulled it off and said, “Maybe after you
wash it.”
That was enough excuse to start a wrestling match on my bed. We’d both
kicked our shoes off, and he wriggled beneath me as I tried to hold him
down to give him a noogie. Then, he cried out, “Ow!”
“What?” I said, pulling off him but at the same time expecting a trick.
“Your zipper scraped me,” he said, showing a red welt along his ribs.
“Fine, no more wrestling,” I said.
“No,” he replied. “No more jeans.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really,” he said. “I like the wrestling.”
Standing up, I slid out of my jeans without unbuttoning them. My hips
couldn’t keep up much of anything.
Putting my finger to my lips, I said, “Remember, we need to be quiet.”
Bobby nodded, and I jumped atop him as silently as I could, eliciting a
controlled “oof” from him. I more or less pinned him, then relented enough
that he broke free, and after a few minutes of that we both decided on a
break. I sat on the floor, back to my bed, while he was stretched out
roughly even with my head. I was near his feet, and decided after a bit to
mess with him again by pulling at the toe of one of his socks.
“Take it off,” he said.
Turning around and rising to my knees, I put my hands up the leg of those
blazing-white sweat pants of his, found the hem, and pulled it all the way
off. Bobby looked meaningfully at the other foot, and poked me with
it. This time I slid my fingers up the sock surface before removing it.
Doing my best just to play it cool, I then reached up and grasped his waist
band in both hands, smoothly pulling them down right past his knees before
he had time to react. As I lifted his feet and pulled them off the ends, he
said, “Hey.”
“Hey what?” I asked, standing up to look him over. “I was feeling undressed
compared to you.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “You’re wearing socks.”
“You know what’s not fair?” I asked. Bobby started to ask, but stopped when
I pushed his chest back onto the bed and held him down long enough to yank
his underpants down with the other hand. I quickly pulled them the rest of
the way off and said, as I let him up, “You’re naked.”
Surprisingly, he just put his hands behind his head, crossed his ankles,
and said, “Yeah, that’s not fair. Why’d you do that?”
I shrugged. “I figured it’s about time,” I said, looking him over. Not able
to help myself, that translated into just staring at his genitals. His
balls were pushed up by virtue of his thighs being pressed together,
pillowing his beautiful young dick, which I’d fantasized about for
years. His pubic bush was a typical amount for a boy in his mid-teens, but
wasn’t attached to any kind of goody trail. Above that he was lean and
hairless, excepting a bit under his arms.
“You’re getting hard,” he said. “Can I see it?”
“I want to get you hard too,” I said, sliding off my underpants. I don’t
have anything porn-star big between my legs; it didn’t smack him in the
face, and he didn’t gasp at the sight of it. Bobby did look, though, and
didn’t seem ashamed to be doing so. His interested gaze only made me
hornier, and I just leaned in and took his cock in my mouth. Foreplay is
for sissies.
“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked.
I stopped for a moment, just long enough to say, “I’m sucking your dick,”
then went back to enjoying that special feeling of having a penis harden in
one’s mouth. For me, the fact that it was slightly smaller than adult-sized
made it all the better, and Bobby wasn’t complaining. Instead he spread his
legs, allowing his hairless balls to hang free; I took that as invitation
to continue. That was confirmed by the feeling of his fingertips,
tentatively caressing my own hardness. I sucked his in deep, and he
reflexively clenched down on my cock in response. I made sure to twitch it
in his hand, to let him know I liked that this was turning into a two-way
sport.
By that time he was fully erect in my mouth. There’s something about a teen
dick that seems to make them impossibly hard. If I’d wanted to, I probably
could have put a nail through a six-inch board with his cock, but that’s
definitely not what I wanted to do. Rather, I wanted him to nail my throat
with that steely spike of his, and to make that easier I rolled him over on
top of me, putting us in the classic 69 position. Then, I grabbed his butt
and started pulling down. Bobby got the hint, and I got a face full of
pelvis as his balls bounced over my nose.
As he pushed himself in and out, I extended my neck as far as I could to
allow him a straight shot down my throat. Bobby started to fuck my face
with more energy now, and my nose was filled with his aroma even as my
gullet was packed with his cock. I only caught glimpses of the rest of his
body, but the sensory packaging was quickly sending me over the moon. The
smooth thighs, spread in eagerness, driving his cock home. When I slowed
him to take a breath I could see his stomach, muscles of which clenched as
he pushed into me and smacked up against my neck; I reached down to trace a finger between his nipple and my own abs.
Reflexively I planted my feet on the bed and pushed my pelvis upward.
Bobby, no dimwit, grabbed my dick firmly and began rubbing it against the
skin of his chest and neck. That small amount of stimulation was all it
took open the flood gates of my crotch, and my legs flailed in spastic
jerks as I sprayed us both with the result. My orgasm was all-consuming,
and it took me a moment to realize that Bobby had reached a similar state
soon after. I realized too late that there was a whole lot more than spit
and dick in my mouth, and his young load filled my mouth to overflowing,
escaping my lips as billions of eager sperm cells sought out the object of
their desire.
They would be disappointed, but I certainly was not. With muffled grunts
and flexing abs, he shot my mouth full up once, twice, thrice; he continued
with a series of lesser spasms with which I found easier to keep up.
He rolled off me, swiveled around, and snuggled into my chest. I kissed the
top of his head. He made a sound which struck me as discontented. “What’s
wrong?” I asked.
“I was wondering how many more blowjobs I would have gotten by now if you
hadn’t waited so long to do that,” he said.
The End
