Caution/Welcome. The domestic spat between Aaron's parents reaches a new flashpoint. Having yanked her younger son from their multi-home complex in their compound in Marathon in March to live with her new partner Eliot Weisman and then with her in her new home in Parkland, Jane Carter decides to forbid Aaron to see his father and siblings and announces she does not want them to see any of his upcoming performances on his Jukebox Tour five days before the tour is to open in Phoenix. Frustrated, angry, and cut off from friends and family, Aaron reaches a flashpoint himself. Unable to escape physically, his mind provides the much needed escape for his sanity and fifteen- year-old Aaron finds himself temporarily transported from the turmoil and bitterness of his present life back in time to his more innocent childhood just after turning thirteen, early in his singing career, and more important, on the verge of puberty. This story does not reflect nor imply a real event nor the real sexuality of this hot young performer. If you do not like reading gay fantasies about celebrities, old family sitcoms, and young boys and their exploration of the mysteries of sex, this is where you stop and hit the back or delete key and wait for the next story. This is the thirty- seventh of standalone stories in a series of Aaron Carter and Friends fanfic gay fantasies and follows the story "Aaron: Street Revenge." This is also the first of a possible spinoff of stories featuring Aaron's Wet Dreams, a suggestion by a young reader by the name of Danny. This story is posted at gay adult story sites for the purpose of adult entertainment. Permission is not given to copy electronically for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other than described without the permission of the author. The television series "Silver Spoons" and the characters are copyright of NBC. Comments about the story and thoughts about this as a possible spinoff to introduce young stars of the past can be sent to the author J.O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com
AARON'S WET DREAM: AN AFTERNOON WITH RICKY
Shutting off the TV, Aaron lay back with a dejected sigh and a groan of agony that only a teenage boy can perfect. He was totally bored out of his tree, the tree in this case being his mother's new residence in Parkland Florida. There was never anything of any interest on television at the best of times, unless you were interested in those dumb reality shows where people competed with each other for fame and money and did their best to stab each other in the back for their personal gain. Fuck, he knew all about that. He was living in a reality show, and it was just as full of bitterness and mistrust as it was on television, even more so in his case. In his case it included family. His mother and father specifically.
"Fuck!" he cursed as he slammed a fist into the pillow. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He didn't give a damn if his bitch of a mother heard. He didn't give a damn if everyone in Parkland heard, or if they heard him all the way down to Marathon, where he wished he was. The fight between his parents was the total, complete shits, and it was tearing him apart. Rolling over on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. He had thought "bitch of a mother" but he didn't really mean it. He loved his mother. He loved both of his parents. That was a big part of the problem. If he only loved one or the other it would be so much easier to hate the other. He didn't hate his mother. He knew what she was doing was what she thought was right for him. At least he had to assume that was her reason. It had to be. If it wasn't then his family really was being torn apart, and he could not believe that.
It was difficult to believe that her latest decision was for his own good though, or the events leading up to it. Picking him up and leaving their home in Marathon to live with Eliot Weisman, the old man his mother wanted managing him, without any notice at all, and then moving to his mother's new place in Parkland while he was heavy into practising for his upcoming Juke Box Tour the end of July did not make any sense. She said it was so he wouldn't have any distractions and could concentrate better. He had to admit he was easily distracted, and Angel and Nick and all the opportunities in their complex in Marathon to do things other than dumb drill and practice of routines he already had down pat were temptations he could not resist. That he had reluctantly accepted, but now today she announces she is totally cutting off his phone and his computer. No contact even for five minutes with his twin sister Angel, no contact with his big brother Nick, and especially no contact with his lover Jesse or his good fuck buddies David and Justin. Now distractions or not, that fucking hurt and was in no way for his own good. She was concerned about his career and didn't want him being influenced by his brother and sister she said. Well fuck that. They were his brother and sister. Besides, he was fifteen for fucksake, sixteen in a few months well just over four months. He wasn't some pushover that would be that easily influenced. She didn't want him to have any contact with his dad, directly or through them, that was what it was.
And it was all about him. That was the bottom line. All over his music and his career, all because of fame, and money, and power and control. She had said the separation between her and his father was a difference of opinion about many things, not just him and his career, but he knew better. Most recently she said switching agents would be better for him. His father said it would ruin his career and it was just because she didn't like his influence on his son. She said he was a bad influence. He was used to the arguing and the accusations. Well, that wasn't quite true. No kid gets used to that. In a way he had been glad when they had announced they were separating, and he had figured maybe some time apart would cool both down. But now her announcement that there were not even going to be any weekend visits, and they couldn't come see his show! That was totally insane. No, it was a nightmare, and he was in the middle of it!
Aaron switched on the television again in desperation. He didn't care what was on as long as it took his mind off his family and reality. He needed to escape, if not physically from the dungeon she'd locked him up in, then mentally from the torture chamber she had put him in. He paused in his channel surfing with a rerun of "NYPD Blue". His mother never let him watch the show, because of the language and the nudity and mature themes. As if he didn't hear cursing every day from the road crew when he was on tour, or from kids half his age on the playground, and as if he was interested in seeing the flabby naked ass of Dennis Franz. The guy was old and fat and ugly. Just hearing David describing the scene in one of their chats had been nauseating. Now, a nude close up of Detective Danny Sorenson, played by Rick Schroder, might not be bad. Rick Schroder didn't have a bad body for a guy who was over thirty, and of course from his fifteenth birthday experiences, Aaron did have some knowledge about older men. Actually, he'd seen Rick Schroder staring in "Face of Terror" just this summer. The movie had been good, lots of action and suspense, but at the time he'd actually spent more time fantasizing about meeting some dark-eyed Spaniard than thinking about Rick Schroder. After all, he'd be . . . thirty-three now. He'd heard his PR agent Mike Ryan and some of the guys on the road crew talking about him. He'd gotten married to the woman who had given birth to his son something like eight months after his son had been born, and he had two sons now, and a daughter, and a sixteen thousand-acre ranch in Montana.
As the show ended and the station switched to advertisements Aaron shut off the television once again. He wondered where he'd be eighteen years from now when he would be thirty-three and what he'd be doing. He was still interested in marine biology. Maybe he'd own his own research vessel and travel the seas doing research like that Frenchman whose shows he enjoyed watching, Jacques Cousteau. Would he be married? He was definitely one hundred percent gay, but he knew gay men married, sometimes just for appearances, sometimes because they figured it would "cure" them, and sometimes because they had settled for living a double life. He was living a double life right then, being gay and in the closet, and he did not like it. He had to right now for his career, but he could not see continuing to do so when he was thirty-three.
Of course then there was his mother. How could he tell her he was gay, even when he was thirty-three? Nick would be okay with it. He wasn't sure what Nick's sexual orientation was. Nick messed with other guys, he knew that now, but since he messed with women too, he could be bi, or just exploring both at the moment, though he was definitely a screaming bottom. Angel would be okay with it. They say twins have a special bond with each other, and he suspected she already knew. He wondered if he'd have kids. That would be cool. That was possible too, even if he was gay, and you didn't have to marry to have kids. Rick Schroder hadn't married, not for eight months anyway. He wondered if Rick Schroder had messed around with guys when he was his age. Of course he had no idea what his life had been like as a teenager. That was back in the early eighties, before he was even born. At any rate, Rick's life couldn't have been the hell his was. Rick was one of the lucky ones. He survived being a teen star, and went on to a successful acting career. Many didn't. Look at Macaulay Culkin. He was making a comeback he heard, but he had demons, demons like he did, except in Macaulay's case it had been his father who had fucked him up whereas in his case it was his mother.
Damn! There were thoughts of his mother again. Aaron flung himself on his back so hard his bed creaked and he was sure his mother would come storming in screaming at him any second. It wasn't even his bed for fucksake. It was a strange bed in a strange house. Speaking of strange houses, Ricky Schroeder had lived in one. Well, not Ricky Schroeder, but Ricky Stratton, the character he'd played on the television series Silver Spoons starting back when he was just twelve. He'd seen reruns of the show. Now that was the way to live! It would be something to have a house like that, with all the toys and games he had, and to have a dad like he had. He wondered if real life was as sweet and innocent back in the eighties like that. It could have been. His life had been sweet and innocent back when he was twelve. Actually, he had been sweet and innocent back when he had been twelve, just exploring life and enjoying it, girls and sex still all a mystery, having a couple close buddies to do guy stuff with, enjoying singing and performing with the fame but without the pressure and high expectations.
Closing his eyes, Aaron slipped his right hand down inside his jeans and his underwear and fiddled with his limp cock. His mother could lock out the world, but she could not lock out his imagination. Pulling off his T-shirt and unzipping his fly and unbuttoning the top of his jeans, he pushed his jeans and boxers down to mid-thigh and then his hands returned to the centre of attraction. Closing his eyes, his right hand slowly stroking his limp cock and his left rolling his nuts in their loose sack, he concentrated on the pleasure he was creating. . . .
The sun was shining brightly in Aaron's window when he awoke and as he slowly raised himself on his elbows and looked around, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Since appearing with the Backstreet Boys, three and a half years ago now, his own career had taken off, and like he'd told a teen mag reporter recently, his life had gotten pretty exciting. One day he could be at home and the next he could be on a plane to Europe. Last fall he'd released his second album, launched by an American tour. Touring in different cities and staying in different hotel rooms was pretty demanding, but also pretty exciting when you've just turned thirteen.
It slowly dawned on him that he was not in a hotel room, but in his bedroom, with his collection of Beany Babies on the shelf and his dolphin memento from San Diego Sea World on his desk. That was right, they had moved, again, back to the east coast. Actually, splitting time between Florida, where he'd been born, and California, where he'd been living, had been cool, and he'd even told a reporter that he was bi-coastal, which he thought was sort of funny. But this latest move, to Shallow Springs, Long Island? That was a bit much, even for his mother.
"Aaron, Aaron, are you awake?"
"I am now," he replied. It was his twin sister.
"Are you descent?"
"I'm always descent."
"You know what I mean."
"Just a minute. Aaron drew back the sheets and swung his legs out of bed. That was funny. Somehow he remembered laying down last night above the covers and with his clothes on. And he also remembered his legs being longer, and hairier. In fact he remembered joking with Nick that his shins were harrier than his older brother's, and he seemed to remember stroking the fine blond hairs and finding them sexy to touch. Right now his shins were as smooth and hairless as his butt. That was curious but before he could think about it seriously, something else distracted him at that moment a bulge tenting out his briefs. That had been happening a lot lately, especially at night, and sometimes at the most embarrassing times. Quickly slipping on his blue jeans, he told his sister she could come in.
"Guess who is living next door!"
"I would have no idea."
"Guess!"
"Angel, how can I possibly guess?"
"Edward Stratton!"
Aaron looked at his twin sister quizzically. Sisters can be weird sometimes, especially recently-turned thirteen-year-old sisters.
"The toy tycoon! His place is like a mansion. And his son is real cute!"
Aaron rolled his eyes. They were living in a mansion, at least until this last move, something that was sort of strange and he was still getting used to, but the hot band his older brother Nick was in was really taking off and the money was rolling in. He wasn't doing that badly himself actually. As for being a cute son, everyone Angel met lately was either real cute or a real nerd. Heading off to the kitchen, he poured himself some cereal and after eating went out in the backyard. It was a bright, sunny February day, and the recent snowfall was quickly melting. A white picket fence separated their lot from the neighbour's. The boy Angel must have been referring to was outside playing hoops in one of those portable basketball stands. He was cute, he supposed, not being any sort of authority on cuteness. Actually, they looked a lot alike, the boy having blond hair like himself and looking like he was the same age. He was a bit taller, and a bit heavier, and his hair was shorter than his and his eyebrows a bit darker. The basketball hit the rim of the hoop and bounced off the drive and over the fence. Aaron retrieved it and walked over to the fence and tossed it back.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"You just moved in."
"Yeah."
"I just moved in a while ago too. Well, seven months ago. Wanna throw some hoops?"
"Sure." Aaron looked at the picket fence and debated climbing over it.
"Better come around the front," the boy said, "one wrong move climbing over those pickets and your voice will never change."
Aaron laughed. This new kid was cool. They threw hoops for a while.
"Want to come in for some hot chocolate?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
"If you don't like hot chocolate, we got pop, or orange juice, and of course milk," Ricky said, noticing Aaron's hesitation.
"No, hot chocolate is fine." Actually, living in Florida and California, hot drinks had not exactly been all that common.
"Want to walk to the kitchen, or ride?" Ricky asked with a smile as they entered the front door and he looked over at the model train his admittedly creative but eccentric father had built to go from room to room.
"Oh wow, I forgot you had a train in the house."
"Forgot? You've been here before?"
"Oh, no." So how had he known about the train? Aaron had a strange feeling for a moment, as if something wasn't quite right. "I must have heard about it. Maybe my mom."
"I haven't seen your dad around."
"Oh. No, my mom and dad are separated."
"Yeah? Mine too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I used to live with my mom but then she figured it was too much raising me, and that I needed a male influence in my life, so she stuck me in a military school, which is not my thing, if you know what I mean? So I moved in here with my dad."
"I'm just the opposite. I lived with my dad, but now I'm with my mom."
"I'm an only child, but not spoiled," he observed with a grin, noticing Aaron looking around. "Most of this stuff my dad had built for himself."
"He sounds cool."
"He is. So, ride or walk?"
"Ride of course," Aaron said with a grin.
So they rode to the kitchen where Ricky made them some hot chocolate. "So what else you like to do besides shoot hoops?"
"I like most sports. Especially swimming and boating. And of course singing."
"Yeah? Singing? I'm not much for singing. I like to listen to music though."
"Yeah? What type of music you like?"
"Mostly rock and roll. What about you?"
"Pop."
"Not sure I know what that is."
Aaron looked at him curiously. What planet was he from not to know what pop was? He dressed very formally but he didn't strike him as being a nerd. "Who are your favourite singers?"
"Oh, I don't know. The Beach Boys I guess. Menudo are pretty cool. Girls really like them anyway. And I really like Michael Jackson's latest album."
"Invincible?" Aaron asked. It was not really doing that well.
"Ah, no, I mean his latest solo album, Thriller. I don't think I've heard of Invincible." Aaron looked at him curiously again. He knew a lot about Michael. Michael was a good friend of his, and besides, everyone in the music business knew all about his music. His latest album? Thriller he produced over twenty years ago, in 1982. As for the other groups, he knew nothing about the Beach Boys, and there was some talk about a new Menudo group being formed again, but it had disbanded years ago. "So what grade are you in?" Ricky asked, sensing they had come to a dead end on the topic of music.
"Ah, seven."
"So what's your favourite subject?"
"I, ah, don't really have a favourite, though I like marine life."
"Yeah? I like science too. We got a neat science teacher. What were the teachers like back where you came from?"
"I, ah, well, I haven't been going to school."
"You haven't?" Ricky asked, his eyes opening wide.
"No, I've been homeschooled, what with all the travelling and stuff, you know."
"I never heard of that." The two sat there uncomfortably, their hot chocolate finished. There didn't seem like they had much of anything in common. "So, you like to play games? We got a games room with all the latest stuff. My dad's in the toy business."
"Yeah? Cool." Hopping on the train, they rode to the games room where Aaron received his next surprise. There were dozens of games and some pretty neat stuff, but most of it he'd never seen before, and Ricky's video game collection was totally archaic. They played a football game where opponents stood on different sides of a table and used movable rods to move the players, which was pretty neat. Ricky was clearly experienced at it and trounced Aaron, who clearly had never played the game before.
"I seen a girl at your place. About our age."
"Oh, yeah, that's my twin sister, Angel. She's a minute older than me."
"Cool. Like I said, I'm an only child."
"I got a brother and an older sister besides Angel, and an older half-sister."
"Did you have a girlfriend back where you lived?"
"No. It's sort of hard, you know, when you move a lot. What about you, you got a girlfriend?"
"No way. I've sworn off girls, and love. Me and Derek both."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. Like there was this girl I met a couple months after I moved in here, Sally Frumble. I like asked her to be my steady girlfriend, and then found out she was seeing someone else. Then my friend Freddy and I tried to make out with these girls who were into punk rockers, but they figured us for preppies and dropped us, without even giving us a chance. And then, like just last week, there was this girl who said she'd work for my dad's toy company on condition I become her boyfriend! Girls, they either don't give a darn about you, or they're trying to run your life!"
"Yeah, you wouldn't believe some of the letters I get from girls. Some of it is embarrassing what they say they'd do if we were boyfriend-girlfriend."
"Letters? You mean like in notes?"
"Ah, yeah." Ricky evidently didn't know who he was, and that was cool, being able to just be a normal guy.
"Well, me and Derek have sworn off girls. Like, you know, who needs them?"
"Well, there are certain needs a guy has," Aaron said with a grin.
"Oh yeah," Ricky agreed with a conspiratorial grin. "Just last week me and some of the guys found this X-rated video! Oh man, was it ever hot! And then Kate found us watching it. Was that ever embarrassing!"
"Kate?"
"My dad's secretary. I think she really likes my dad. It'd be cool if they got married. She's okay."
"So, she caught you watching a porn video?"
"Oh yeah, right at the best part."
"Were you, you know. . . ."
"Oh yeah. All of us were."
"Now that would really be embarrassing!"
"You better believe it!"
"So what happened?"
"My dad gave me a big lecture, and grounded me."
"Tough."
"Yeah."
"So, when you, you know, when it happens, what do you do about it?"
Even though they were alone, Ricky glanced about and then lowering his voice to a whisper and drawing close, replied with a sheepish smile, "you know, what all guys do."
"Jerk?"
"Yeah."
"You and your buddies ever do it together?"
Ricky hesitated. "Yeah, Derek and me have. What about you?"
"Oh yeah, me and a couple buddies of mine. We've done each other too."
"Yeah? Neat. It's better, doing it with someone else than alone, don't you think?"
"For sure."
"So, can you, you know, come yet?"
"No, not yet. But I've started getting hair."
"Yeah? Mine's just started."
Aaron hesitated. "Wanna compare?"
"Sure," Ricky said with a grin.
Heading to Ricky's room, Aaron found it just as cluttered with toys and games and other things as the rest of the house. It was a typical bedroom otherwise, with a desk and his school books scattered about it, a bookcase with some of his favourite books and favourite things, some rocks he'd collected, a model rocket he was building. They sat down on the bed and self-consciously and with some embarrassment pulled down their flies, and undoing their belts, pushed down their trousers. Aaron was wearing his cargo pants, Ricky, a pair of black dress pants. They were both wearing white briefs. They slowly pushed them down to mid thigh.
Both boys had blond hairs. Aaron had a thicker bush than Ricky, who had only a small patch of short curly hairs right above his dick, but even so from the sparsity of Aaron's patch, it was clearly just the beginning. He did have larger and lower hung nuts while Ricky's dick looked longer. They were both uncut.
"Yeah, you got a lot more hair. When's your birthday?"
"I turned thirteen in December."
"Soooo you're four months older than me," Ricky said as he calculated the difference. "I won't be thirteen for another two months, April 13." The two boys looked at each other, the unobstructed sight of another boy's private parts still something very new to both of them. "So, you wanna compare sizes?"
"Sure."
Getting off the bed and shuffling over to his desk, Ricky returned with a plastic ruler. Carefully measuring his first, and then handing the ruler to Aaron and having him measure his own, at two and three-quarter inches he was a quarter inch longer than Aaron.
"Wanna compare when they're hard?" Aaron dared to ask, feeling himself getting horny.
"Sure."
The two sat there side by side on the bed self-consciously and stared down at their laps as they fiddled with themselves. Aaron cautiously and furtively glanced over at what Ricky was doing, and Ricky did the same.
"What you think about, you know, when you do it?"
"Mostly girls. Sometimes about one of my buddies and imagine us doing it like we are now, you know, the first time together. And since that video, sometimes me and Derek doing stuff with our girls on a date together. What about you?"
"Mostly about guys I know. Like I said, you don't get to know that many girls that well ."
"When you move a lot," Ricky chorused, and the two laughed.
They were young and soon hard, and again measured themselves. Ricky again, at just over four inches, was slightly longer than Aaron.
"When you jack off, you pull the skin all the way back?"
"Oh yeah, that feels so neat. Do you?"
"Sometimes."
"I think it's neat having a foreskin."
"Me too. Some of my friends don't."
"Yeah. My friend Freddy Lippincottleman doesn't, but my friend Derek does."
The two boys sat there silently and awkwardly again. They both were stiff and both wanted to bring themselves to that delightful climax, that each was certain would be wet the next time. "So, you want to ," they both began. "So," they both began again, and then laughed.
"You first," Ricky said.
"No, you, you're the host."
"And you're the guest."
"So, now we got them hard, you wanna, you know," Aaron asked self-consciously.
"Sure. If you do, that is," Ricky replied, quickly covering his eagerness.
"Sure do."
So the two boys sat there on the bed fiddling with themselves. It was hot when you are young and on the verge of puberty, sitting there touching what you should not be touching, doing what boys should not be doing.
"Can I see what yours feels like?" Aaron dared to ask.
"Sure. If I can feel yours."
And so the two young boys released their throbbing little tubes of flesh and reached over and slipped a thumb and first two fingers about the other's. It felt the same, but so very different holding someone else's, and having someone else's fingers about one's own. Aaron dared to slowly pull back Ricky's skin, revealing ever so slowly the swollen, reddish, bulblike knob with the tiny puckered opening and funnel-like groove underneath. Ricky did the same, revealing Aaron's purplish mushroom-shaped cap.
"You and your friends ever dock?" Ricky asked, his voice cracking with his excitement, much to his embarrassment.
"Ah, I don't know. What is that?"
"Well," Ricky said, flushing with self-consciousness and with arousal, "that's where two guys put their dicks tip to tip, and if they both got skins, the one guy pulls his right back and then the other guy pulls his skin over the knob of the first guy, and then the first guy pulls his skin over the first guy's. If one guy's cut then of course just one guy pulls his skin over the other guy's dickhead."
"Cool."
"Wanna try it?"
"For sure!"
So, the two boys turned so they were sitting facing each other, their underwear and pants about their ankles, Ricky in his pale blue shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark blue vest with large red diamonds, Aaron in his loose, orange and green block shirt, their stiff dicklets pointing up in the air. They slowly lowered them and shuffled forward until their dickheads met. Aaron had never touched dicks with another boy before in his life, and it felt wicked having the tip of his most private part touching the tip of the other boy's hard, hot cock. He stretched back his skin and then held it there and watched as Ricky very slowly and very carefully pulled his forward, stretching it open wide and pulling it over Aaron's mushroom-shaped cap. A shiver of excitement and arousal shot up his spine and up his stiff cock as his dickhead disappeared inside Ricky's skin. It felt totally wicked, Ricky's skin feeling silky smooth and warm, but even more wicked than the physical feeling was the thought that Ricky's skin was now encasing his dickhead just like it normally would be encasing his own!
Pulling his skin back up and over Ricky's was more difficult in that Ricky had to keep his stretched forward, and besides, it was Aaron's first time. They had to try several times, but both were determined, and Aaron finally managed to slip his skin back up over his own knob, now encased in Ricky's skin, and then over Ricky's enclosed knob. Another quiver of excitement and arousal ripped up his spine and up his stiff cock. It was so wicked, both the feeling, his skin slipping over Ricky's, and the thought of what they'd done. His knob was enclosed by another boy's foreskin, and his skin was pulled over the other boy's, a skin enclosing a skin. Two boys could not do anything more intimate and personal!
With their fingers wrapped about each other's knob, the two boys sat there on the bed holding each other's most private part. Ricky slowly rotated his wrist, rubbing the rim of Aaron's sensitive knob through his skin and Aaron's and sending ripples of stimulation through the blood- engorged knob and up Aaron's throbbing cock. Aaron followed, slowly rotating his fist and sending the same pleasure up Ricky's young slender cock. And so the two inexperienced but horny boys, one twelve and ten months and the other thirteen and two months, sat there and slowly stimulated each other, their knobs encased in each other's skin.
Familiar ripples of pleasure passed through their flesh and a familiar tension began to build. They pressed their dick tips together, their peeholes pressing against each other, and the thought of shooting their stuff up each other's dick caused the two boys to quiver and ache like they had never ached before. They began to rotate their fists more rapidly and squeezed each other's dick head harder, imagining how hot the other must be feeling from their own sensations. That was the best part about having sex with another guy; he had a dick just like yours and knew exactly how you were feeling.
The ache in Ricky's loins increased, sharper than it ever had before, and suddenly he felt the familiar twang deep in his groin that announced his orgasm, but this time it was accompanied by a rushing, burning flow up the core of his numb cock, like he was going to piss. Aaron felt the same sensation, and suddenly he felt something hot, thick and gooey strike the tip of his dick and flow over his dickhead. A second later he felt his stuff spurting out of his peehole, causing it to burn with a pleasure never before experienced. His thick, gooey cum flooded over the bulbous knob of Ricky's throbbing, spurting cock and began filling Ricky's foreskin still being pinned tight about Aaron's dickhead. At the same time Ricky's cum spurted over Aaron's, blood-engorged cap and began filling his foreskin also. Their cum, thick and copious, mixing and swelling out their foreskins still tightly held by the two of them, puffed up the double layer of skins like a swelling balloon. In his ecstasy, Aaron slowly felt his skin slipping back out of his fingers, and Ricky's slowly slipping back off his cockhead.
Throwing his head back with the greatest pleasure he'd ever felt, Aaron gasped and groaned with his first wet orgasm, his cock, now freed, jerking about madly like a loose fire hose, squirting out his cum in all directions. It shot up in the air and landed on his thighs in thick, hot streamers and oozed down his leg. It shot up into the air and landed in thick globules in his thick, curly hairs to ooze down the crease between his groin and leg and over his tightly swollen nuts. It shot up into the air and struck his naked chest, lacing it with streamer after streamer of cum. It was as if he was never going to stop, and for a moment, a new panic set in, that he was having his first ejaculation, and not knowing how to stop it, he would come until he'd emptied his balls in one long, ejaculation.
Sitting bolt upright in fear, his boxers and jeans at mid thigh, his T-shirt on the bed beside him, Aaron inhaled and exhaled deeply as he looked down at his thick, throbbing, spurting cock as it laced his naked chest. He inhaled the musky aroma of his fresh cum, delighting in its familiar fragrance as his mind struggled with the fog encasing it, delighting in the intense pleasure and trying to make sense out of what was happening. He slowly realized he was in his own bed in his bedroom, in Parkland. His cock, still spurting wildly, flung a streamer of hot, thick cum across his thigh. Another struck his right nipple and began oozing down his smooth, broad chest. He was fifteen again, and awakening from the wildest wet dream of his life!