This story has been a long time in the making. Part1 consists of 19 chapters, not all of which contain any sexual material. Its main characters are teenage boys. The author has not been a teenage boy for a long time and apologises if the dialogue is not always convincing.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
For the next few chapters the spotlight turns to the M of D'n'M -- Milo de Beer. Along with the change of focus comes a darkening of the story line and the impact of an issue that has the potential to undermine the foundations of the boys' friendship. PJ.
D'n'M Part1
From Chapter 9:
Dan couldn't wait to describe to his best friend, in technicolour detail, the extra-ordinary events of his weekend. Everything, from the horror of his first wet dream, to his initiation into the wonders of jerking-off and Tom's amazing sex show. Not forgetting all the new words he had learnt, and how all this new knowledge would unlock the mysteries of school-yard conversations. Oh yes, he had a lot to say and could hardly wait for Milo's return to school so he could begin to tell his life-changing story.
What Dan didn't know was that the events of Milo's weekend were soon to have deep and near-catastrophic consequences for their friendship.
Chapter 10
Looking back on the events of his weekend as he journeyed towards home on Monday morning, Milo admitted to himself that, if he was being honest, visiting his aunt's family wouldn't normally have been his top pick of ways to spend a long weekend away. Firstly, it involved a seriously tedious drive, made even longer and more tedious by his mother's ceaseless complaints --the too-hot weather, the relentless traffic, the recklessness of his father's driving and, most loudly, the many shortcomings of her northern relatives-in-law. Secondly, the farmhouse where the family lived wasn't just in the back of beyond, it was beyond the back of beyond, with nowhere to go, nothing (for a geeky and gawky thirteen- year old) to do and, way worse than any other social or geographical disadvantage, with no reliable internet connection. And thirdly, a long weekend at his aunt's place meant the greater part of four days cooped up with his cousins - up-herself Lee-anne and jock-boy Zephan.
No, a trip to his dad's sister's place wouldn't normally have had any sort of appeal for Milo, but things really weren't very normal just then so he had almost welcomed the chance to get away from home, away from school and, most importantly, away from D.
On the outward journey, Milo had been more or less silent, his head echoing with thoughts that had been going round and round for weeks now, never getting anywhere but repeatedly forcing him back to face the same unanswerable question. And because there was no acceptable answer, plunging him ever-deeper into a dark and impenetrable funk.
Here we go again,' thought his dad. Standard teenage behaviour.' So like it had been with his big sister Kate, and she'd turned out ok, he thought, with little need for much paternal interference, apart from the occasional unobtrusive hug and regular increases in her allowance. Somehow he'd hoped and expected it would be different with his son.
Milo had always seemed to his father to be a pretty average sort of kid - neither particularly outgoing nor shy; middle-of-the-road intelligent; sporty, though generally at a second string' level (apart from swimming at which he excelled); not the most popular boy but not a social isolate either; not a goody-two-shoes but never in any serious trouble. No, his son had always seemed to be a pretty regular sort of boy, and one who had two very definite advantages in life. Firstly, he had Dan Reed as his best friend. The two had been inseparable ever since they had met at the park all those years before. Where one went, the other was sure to be closer than skin and they always seemed to bring out the best in each other. Secondly, Milo had, at a very young age, developed a water-off-a-duck's-back' attitude to his mother's constant griping and nagging. He never let it get to him, and if ever it looked as if there was a danger that it might, he'd just disappear into his bedroom or off to Dan's house. Mr. de Beer couldn't help being more than a little jealous.
It was as this feeling was flushing through his mind that Milo's dad turned the car to the right and began the last, long stretch towards his big sister's remote farmhouse home.
"Nearly there now," he announced to his wife and son, relishing the prospect of the few days of mutual affection he would soon be enjoying with his extended family. Three blissful days, he thought, when his wife's never-ending litany of carping and complaint would be diluted by friendlier, more genuinely loving voices. He had expected Milo's to be one of those voices but it was looking as if he was retreating further and further into his mood of teenage indifference and non-communication. Hopefully his nephew Zephan was well and truly through that stage and would show Milo that there was life beyond the misery of adolescent angst. Little did he suspect just what it was that Zephan would be showing his cousin before the weekend was over.
Soon after arriving at his aunt's home, Milo was cheered by the news that cousin Lee-anne was away for the weekend on a school trip to the capital and wouldn't be back before Milo and his family left on Monday morning. The improvement in Milo's mood, however, was soon undermined by being told he would be sharing a room with his sixteen- year old cousin, Zephan. Lee-anne had made it very clear that she was not prepared to have some "smelly teenage boy", even if he was related, messing with her stuff, so Milo would be sleeping on a mattress on the floor of Zephan's room. The two boys saw each other very rarely and even when they did they found they had almost nothing in common. For Milo, the prospect of sharing a room was not a happy one.
Zephan was three years older, and a more confident and popular boy it would be hard to imagine. As a star basketball power forward and field athlete he made no attempt to hide his disdain for Milo's successes in the pool, and he had never tried to find out what other interests his younger cousin might have, despite the urgings of his parents. The fact was that their ages, life-styles and geographical locations had always created too much distance between them. The best that Milo could hope for this weekend was that Zephan would be so insanely busy with his sports and his friends that their paths would hardly cross.
To begin with it looked as if his wish would be granted. Tired from the journey, he made his excuses early and went up to bed before Zephan had come home from a party being hosted by one of his team mates. The next morning, Milo was vaguely aware of his cousin moving around the bedroom, showering and dressing, before going off to practice long before it was even properly light. Milo shuddered, turned over and went back to sleep until late in the morning when his father woke him with a bacon sandwich and a glass of orange juice. This was a familiar ritual, a chance for them to do the `father/son bonding thing', away from Mrs. de Beer's incessant carping and moaning.
This was the time when the two de Beer males would chat about their weeks, tell silly jokes and generally kid around. Lately, though, Milo had seemed less and less willing to participate in this happy oasis in his father's hassled world, something else that he put down to his son's retreat into traditional teenage angst and resentment. In truth, Milo would have dearly loved to pour out his woes to his dad who he loved with all his heart, almost as much as he loved D, but there was no way he was going to be able to do that. No. Not ever.
Once he was up, showered and dressed, Milo found he was expected to join his parents, uncle and aunt on a trip to a local beauty spot. There would be lunch on a lake cruiser and a tour of a ruined castle, followed by a walk up to a famous waterfall. Milo was desperately trying to come up with a convincing reason why he couldn't possibly go along with this truly appalling proposal, when his mother announced she had "one of her heads" and would be staying behind in order to lie down in a darkened room until the symptoms had passed. No-one really believed her, but neither did anyone try to persuade her to change her mind. It was a light-hearted quartet that spent a special family day enjoying the local tourist sites and each other's company.
Arriving home happy but exhausted, Milo ate an early supper and retreated to Zephan's bedroom where he hoped to get in an hour or so of `FIFA 16' before his cousin returned home. He knew that the busier and more active he could keep his mind, the less time and head space he'd have for thinking, because thinking was exactly what he didn't want to be doing. Thinking just led him round and round in tedious circles and tied him up in emotional knots. Time spent video gaming was exactly the thing to keep his mind happily focussed elsewhere.
The plan sort of worked. Milo stripped down to T-shirt and underwear, switched on the screen and settled down on his mattress. It was only a few minutes later that his eyelids closed, his head slumped backwards and he fell fast asleep, worn out by a day spent having fun with his family.
When he woke, several hours later, the room was dark and he was desperate to pee. Milo pulled himself upright and made his unsteady and woolly-headed way to the adjoining bathroom, approached the toilet, released his boy dick and unleashed a long and satisfying stream into the bowl. It was at this point, as his mental awareness groped back to normal, that he realised he was not alone. He could hear the sound of the shower and, above it, an angry voice telling him to, "Get the hell out of here."
Milo turned towards the voice and was greeted by a sight that would remain with him for years.
Zephan stood in the shower, facing outwards, water flowing down his toned and balanced jock-boy body. There was no spare flesh. The muscles of his chest, abs, arms and thighs stood out in almost anatomical detail. His torso formed a perfect inverted `V'. All this Milo registered in seconds. What then drew and held his attention was destined to feed his fantasy life for a very long time indeed. Encased in Zephan's right hand was the biggest (ok, the first) erect penis he had ever seen, apart from his own. The purple tip was peeping out from between his cousin's fingers and the hairless ball sack hung confidently below.
"Are you deaf, you perve?! Get the hell out of here!"
"Oh crap," muttered Milo under his breath as he fled, terrified, back to the bedroom.
I continue to be grateful to those readers who have written to tell me how much they appreciate the story of D'n'M, many of them writing to say that the events of the story mirror their own experiences. I'll be really interested to hear how the change of focus from D to M impacts on readers of the story. Please write to let me know.
As an author, it's REALLY encouraging to know that there are people out there who are taking the time to read what's been written, and then bothering to send a response. I welcome all comments and guarantee to write back.
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