Hot Freshman Kid - Chapter 2
by Steve Storyman stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Copyright 2005 Steve Storyman February 5, 2005
DISCLAIMER: This story is for adults only. If it is not legal for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age either where you reside or are accessing this page, or are offended by male to male sex or incest, then do not read this story. Other standard disclaimers apply. _________________________________________________________________
NOTICE: Names and places used in this story are entirely
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons or
places is purely coincidental and unintentional. _________________________________________________________________
All of the above disclaimers and the notice apply equally to all chapters and/or parts of this story. _________________________________________________________________
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PLEASE SEE UPDATED LIST OF MY OTHER STORIES AT END OF CHAPTER _____________________________________________________________
Mark Wrent, 17 Kyle Connolly, 14
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a tender story with no rough stuff. ____________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 2
I thought I would come when I felt Kyle licking my neck. Since I was holding him tightly, I could feel his body tremble.
"Oh, God," he said, pulling his head up and looking so panicked, "I--I better stop."
And Kyle lifted off me.
I didn't know what to think or what he was doing, but his dick looked so good to me--bigger than before, very red, throbbing, with a strand of his clear fluid dripping from it's beautiful flared head.
"Mark," he said sweetly, facing me, "I better go."
I didn't say anything but my heart dropped into my stomach. I sat up very fast and let my mouth take in his sexy bone. "Mmm," I moaned.
"Uhmmm, ohhhh," he said dreamily.
I slid off him. I'll never forget the hot, beautiful taste and feel of him in my mouth. "Don't go, Kyle. What's wrong?"
There was silence as he got dressed.
"Nothing's wrong--I just . . . gotta go," he said, walking toward the locker room door. He looked troubled.
"Wait!" I said, and was so relieved when he stopped. "Let me drive you home." I stood up.
"You would do that?" he said, his face surprised, less troubled now, but still there was a neutral, if not reserved look.
I was full of desire for him like nothing else that ever hit me. I decided to lay my heart out in front of him.
"Kyle," I said, the tone of sincerity matching what I felt in my heart.
"Yes?" he said in the most timid voice imaginable.
"At this point, Kyle, I'd take your underwear off with my teeth, lick your feet, and your whole body, as well as do you homework, if that's what you wanted."
I have never blurted out my feelings for someone so quickly. And I blushed knowing I had revealed it all to a 14-year-old kid I hardly knew--and was very aware what I'd just said could end whatever potential I had with Kyle.
It was breathtaking to watch his face change as he slowly walked back toward me during my little outpouring. What a shift in his expression--warm, hopeful, promising.
"You would--y-you would . . . do all that?"
"Yes," I said, shaking very badly.
"Oh, God," he said, sitting on the bench opposite me. His face was blushed but the expression was odd now. He hung his head, looking ruefully at the floor. "Mark, look--I just--"
"It's okay." I cut him off. He could be getting ready to tell me to go to hell, for all I knew, and I had to do something to save this budding friendship, if that's what it was. "Kyle, why don't we go to Uncle Harry's? You're probably as hungry as I am, and we can relax there, okay?"
'Uncle Harry' was a restaurant--not the local hangout, which would be the last place I'd choose for him. It was somewhere between upscale and fast food, but had privacy in the deep, widely spaced booths.
"You wanna take me there? . . . Even though I--"
"Yes," I said quickly, not wanting him to say anything that might be painful for him.
"Okay," he said in that adorable timidity that had overcome him in recent moments. He was a bit out of breath, too, I noticed.
I got dressed as fast as I could.
"I don't have a comb or anything," Kyle said, a hand to his hair.
"I don't either," I said, "but--will you let me?" I extended my hands to his head.
Kyle nodded, and I proceeded to straighten out his silky blond hair with my fingers.
"Turn around, Kyle--let me do the back." There was everything masculine and nothing feminine about either of us. Still, I would never let myself be seen in public fixing a boy's hair, but I experienced something special doing this for him.
"Feels nice," he said.
I thought about massaging his scalp, but then I thought that might be too much for him. It was a little relief for me--with his back facing me. I wanted to hug him in this position. Instead, I let my hands slide down his shoulders and upper arms, which were surprisingly solid.
"Well, I guess we're ready."
At the restaurant, Kyle tried to order just a snack.
"No," I said to the waiter, "he's hungry and needs a full meal."
"Okay," he said. I thought I'd seen Kyle blush all the ways possible, but this was the cutest. He ordered a meatloaf dinner, very quickly making the choices of potato and vegetable.
We sipped our cokes as we waited for the food to arrive.
"Are you okay, now, Kyle?" I asked quietly.
"Well--yeah. It's--it's really nice of you to do this. Thank you. I just didn't know--you know--I mean, I feel--"
Then his tears came. He put his face in his napkin for a moment, then looked up at me, wet-faced and abashed. "I'm sorry I did that to you." Then he spoke in a more hushed tone. "I was afraid--I mean, I knew I was going to come any second . . . and . . . and--oh, God," he said, sobbing now.
"It's okay." I reached across the table and held his shoulders for a few seconds.
"I didn't know you were like this," he said, his tears lessening, "I thought you were . . . just going to use me."
I was never so shocked at hearing a sentence. "Kyle--has someone done that to you--used you?"
"No, but . . . I hear talk. You know. I'm sorry!" he said, his tears accelerating. "You're not like that--I know now. You wouldn't be that way." The tears stopped. His face was getting back to normal.
"It's brave of you to say all that, Kyle--I admire you. I just wanted you to know that I . . . I think you're beautiful. And-- and I want . . . " I didn't know how to put it. I wanted him naked in bed--to hold him and tell him how wonderful he is. I hoped that my eyes conveyed part of that message.
Kyle's hand on my knee was his answer. "We can go to my house. Nobody's home. And I have my own private entrance--not that I ever need it."
I was overwhelmed. Go to bed with a younger guy--at HIS house? That struck me as very strange. I had only pictured us in the locker room--or my own room at home. But not at HIS home. And a private entrance? This I would have to see.
"Okay," I said. "Wherever you say." Then it hit me that Kyle might be more comfortable in his own house. This might work out better for him. Still, I doubted. "Are you sure?"
Then I saw power in his face for the first time--real power, with authority behind it. Kyle was giving me a look that said, 'Don't question me--I say what I mean.'
I suddenly realized, this was a very strong kid. And I felt flattered--strong-willed kids usually say no to sex, at least that is my experience so far. Not that I've had much. The overall result was that I was pleasantly but definitely intimidated by him.
"Okay, okay!" I said apologetically, with the palm of my hand toward him. "I can tell you're sure." I said it with a grin.
"I'm sorry," he said, blushing a bit. His full smile returned, and then some. "My dad's president of All-Con, and some of his ways rub off--"
"All-Con? That big place on Tiger Hill?"
"Yup. That's the one."
"Wow. No wonder you have a private entrance. Big bucks, huh?"
Kyle nodded unpretentiously.
"Where do you live, anyway?" I asked, burning with curiosity.
"Wilmington Acres."
"I figured some place like that. It's beautiful there."
"Wanna go see it?" Kyle said with a gleam in his eye.
"Oh, yeah," I said, a sensual tone in my voice.
"Okay," he said, as we got up to leave. I paid the bill.
"I thought it would take forever to get here," I said, truly surprised that it was such a short drive. "I guess you can tell I never come up this way."
"Well, what do you think?" he asked, as I stared at a large, stone house.
"It's really big," I said, wondering how many people actually lived there.
"No, not that one, THIS one," he said, motioning to the house across the street.
"Jesus!" I said, as I looked over a beautiful home twice the size as the stone one. "It's huge. Just you and your family live here?"
"Just me and my dad. My mom died when I was little."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Kyle!"
"No--it's okay. Don't even go there--I'm fine."
I just stared at him. He really was a strong kid. "Oh! I guess we better park and get out of the car."
That made Kyle giggle--a lighthearted musical sound that started to resonate in my dick.
I knew it was impossible, but as we approached his front door, I had visions of us madly tearing our clothes off and making passionate love on the living room floor. It was something to work toward--if things worked out with Kyle the way I was thinking.
"Dad's away for the weekend," Kyle said as he opened the door, his little grin persisting.
The first thing I noticed was the temperature. "It sure is warm in here."
"Yeah--sorry. Everyone says that. Dad likes it that way. Makes it nice to run around naked when he's not here," Kyle said. I think that was a slip, not a deliberate statement, because he blushed really bad.
"Hey--don't be embarrassed. If I had a house like this, I'd go around naked, too." I didn't ask him to take his clothes off and show me how he goes around naked, but I wanted to.
I was impressed by the way he conducted a tour of the house for me. He sounded professional, and he explained things very well. "And this is my room," he said with a little flourish.
"It's beautiful," I said, admiring the fine wood furniture and trim, and the masculine color scheme. I noticed the absence of posters, or anything that would indicate what this boy liked. "I wish my room were this neat and clean." I sat on a comfortable chair.
"Let's go to the kitchen. Are you thirsty?"
"Oh, yeah," I said. I was thirsty for a lot of things, but not from the kitchen, I was sure. Kyle showed off a few gadgets, opened two sodas, then led the way back to his room.
I noticed he made sure he went in first, this time. He sat on the bed and invited me to sit next to him.
We stared at each other for a while, but it was an open, honest staring--as if we had given each other permission to look inside, through our eyes--so it was comfortable.
His boner came on so quick, the movement in his pants was impossible to miss. In a second, our distracted eyes were focused on each other's again. Kyle's eyes changed to an even more open look--as if he were feeling a need to bare his soul or something.
"You make me hard," he said in such stark honesty, it sounded innocent.
I thought of saying, 'Yeah, I noticed,' but this boy was way above that sort of talk.
"That makes two of us," I said, wishing I'd thought of a better way to say it.
"So, what do you think?" he said in childlike tones. I could tell he was basically at ease, but a little tension crept in over his excitement just then.
He was so genuinely open, I felt I could say anything, especially after pouring out my emotions to him in the locker room. I took his wrists loosely in my hands.
"Kyle, I think you're the most wonderful boy I've ever met. Probably ever will meet."
"Wow. I knew you liked me, but that's--wow."
His little speech renewed our smiles, and we stared into each other's face in silence. I resisted the temptation to show him the bulge in my pants.
Nothing was said for quite a while, but I felt comfortable with him. I had the feeling he was trying to figure out how to word his next statement.
Our facial expressions shifted slowly over a variety of modes. It was like making love with my eyes, and he was returning the feeling.
Slowly, I let my head drift toward his, until our foreheads touched, and the pressure made him lie on his back. I put my hands under his arms, and slid him up. His head was almost to his pillow, and I covered his body with mine. Our heads were so close, our noses touched.
"Mark," he said as he closed his eyes.
"Oh, Kyle," I said softly, pressing my lips into his.
I had pushed a button. This calm boy squirmed and writhed passionately. As I kissed him more deeply, his legs wrapped around mine. Our chests, our hard boy-parts pressed and rubbed together to a slow sensual rhythm.
We got out of breath, and our kiss became sloppy--a mass of tongues and lips and off-centeredness--and we melted into each other.
I rubbed his hips and ribs, glorying in the heat of the moment with him. And Kyle's hands were not idle.
He slid his hands through my hair, over the skin of my neck, my ears, face--his fingers delicately made love to me.
I didn't ask, I just started to pull off his shirt. Kyle raised his arms willingly, smiling gently, maybe sensuously. I thought about what he'd told me--that he'd never done anything with a guy. He was acting very bravely, and obviously trusted me.
I resisted my first instinct--to lick his little nipples. Instead, I rubbed them with a feather-like touch.
Kyle convulsed--bent in half--at the subtle sensation. I watched every upper body muscle ripple with excitement. "Mark--no one's ever made me want--"
"Mmm! Me, too," I said gently, loving his breathless voice and the sparkle in his eyes.
I experimented with his nipple. I flicked a finger over one.
"Uhh," was Kyle's response, muscles contracting with each sound.
I did it twice more.
"Uhh. Uhh!"
He was priceless.
I was on top of him again, this time I was licking HIS neck, but the clever boy maneuvered his mouth around to mine and licked so sensually.
"You're beautiful," I said, as I pulled away. I think Kyle at this point was speechless.
I couldn't wait any longer. I got up and reached for his pants buckle. I remembered to take his shoes and socks off first, then I uncovered the rest of him. I did it gently, watching his face light up at each step. He was amazing--everything delighted him.
I grasped his penis carefully at the base. I looked at him for any negative signs, but found none, and a slid my lips over his hot, hard flesh. After a few strokes of my mouth I felt it throbbing.'
"Wait! Oh, God!" he said.
I opened my mouth and carefully slid off, knowing what he meant by those anxious words.
"It's okay," I said.
"No, it's a problem. I'm too ready to come. I was afraid it might happen in the locker room, and of what you would think if I came and made a mess on you."
"Kyle--will you trust what I tell you?"
"Yes."
I whispered very softly in his ear, "I like you so much, Kyle, I don't know how to say it." It was strange not seeing his face as I spoke to him, but I went on. "If you're that close, just let it come. You can relax then, and let it build up, and enjoy it."
"Okay," he said. I could feel his ear move up--a clear signal that he smiled suddenly.
This time, he held his dick for me, not grossly, but a cute invitation by a younger boy to an older boy. The way he did it-- it was a sign of desire and trust combined. Then I realized it was a smart way to say he wanted to be sucked.
His cock was truly beautiful. The flared tip was only slightly bigger than the shaft, giving the whole penis a graceful, proportioned look. It was perfectly shaped, pink, white, smooth --like a pure, round vanilla bar, sprayed lightly with the essence of a rare, red berry. It pulsated demandingly--the powerful movement shifting the small tuft of hair above it; the small opening in the tip becoming slowly wider as the impassioned desires heated up his little body.
His hairless balls churned insistently--impatient to release their reward. I was only too ready to taste and swallow that reward.
"No holding back now, Kyle--just let it happen."
"Ohhh," he said lustfully, as the heat of my mouth engulfed his most precious part. He squirmed and moaned throughout, his hands frantically touching me everywhere he could reach.
At the third stroke of my mouth, a firestorm of hot liquid thrust itself in. Three potent streams of his essence shot out of him, followed by lesser ones, and I swallowed all of him.
I reveled in the sound of his desperate breaths, the whole activity having brought him to such high excitement in so short a time.
"Oh, yes. Oh, yes!" he said, as soon as he had enough breath in him to speak. "Oh so good, so good, Mark."
"I loved doing it, and I loved your reactions, Kyle."
"Oh, Mark--I want you. But you're so big."
It was then I realized Kyle was the only one naked. Then it hit me what he was saying. I had to approach this gently. I think I knew enough about him now to do this right.
"Let's talk about it, okay?" I said, grinning at him.
"Okay," he said with enthusiasm. Instantly, the grin was returned.
As we both sat up, his hands were all over me, rubbing my legs and chest especially. It was catching--I did the same to him. The whole event was very pleasant--he was inexperienced and not expecting anything in particular, I thought, and I wasn't that much more experienced, and felt a certain freedom that just came from being with Kyle.
"I really loved doing that to you--with you," I said.
"I could tell. I saw it in your body, and now your face," he said sweetly. "I can't tell you how good you made me feel, even before you did that."
"Wow. Well, you did the same for me."
"How?" Leave it to an intelligent, strong-willed boy to ask the heard questions.
"To tell the whole truth--just being with you, Kyle. The first time I looked up at you, there was something special about you-- and I felt it inside me."
His smile faded, to be replaced by a very red, blushed look, and an expression of surprise. "That's how I felt. I still do," he said.
He surprised me by pulling me into a hug. There was passion there but it was a gentle hug--soft, reassuring, familiar--as if we'd been friends a long time and we knew how to comfort each other with this simple act of our bodies.
"Let me do this," he said, as he came out of the hug, reached for my shirt, and started to undress me.
I blushed. I had visualized undressing him, but it never occurred to me that Kyle would do that for me.
"You're blushing," he said sheepishly, then he giggled again-- that sweet musical sound thrilling me.
"I'm very glad you noticed," I said, leaning in for a kiss.
Kyle met me halfway and we kissed briefly.
"You taste good," we both said at the same time. I laughed, and Kyle giggle insanely at the pleasant coincidence. For an instant, I felt as if I'd always known him--that we knew all about each other's bodies and minds.
Then I saw his dick was still hard--and still wet from my quick blow job, although with Kyle I couldn't think of what I'd done with him in those terms.
I went into his bathroom and came back with a small towel. I dried his hard boyhood gently, and he beamed a smile of satisfaction--gratitude, surprise maybe, that I would do that.
"Stand up, Mark," he said, as he performed the last act of undressing me, and my pants and underwear came off. I stepped out of them.
Kyle slid to his knees, his cute bottom sledding down from the edge of the bed. He held my cock and kissed it. Looking a bit fearful of it, he opened his mouth and slid his hot lips over the head of my dick.
"Oh, God, Kyle!"
"Did I hurt you?"
"No, no. It's just--it felt so good," I said.
"You're so big! I'm glad I made you feel good," Kyle said, looking very proud of himself. "And I still want you."
"Yeah, we have to talk about that." I was surprised his dick was still hard.
"Okay," he said with that energetic smile again.
"I want you very much. But there's more than one way to want you or to have you. You already gave me one of those. When I--when you let me make you come."
Entranced with what I was saying, Kyle simply nodded.
"But this," I said, holding my cock for emphasis, "is too big for you right now."
"No. It can't be too big."
"Trust me, it is. I'd love to make love to you! And if I f-- penetrated you right now it would hurt you a lot. And then sex wouldn't feel good. Sex wouldn't be love, then."
"Love?" he said, with the boyish expression of a child in the wonder of his first Christmas.
I hadn't meant to say that, but there it was.
"Yes, love. I never met anyone like you, Kyle, and I doubt I ever will again. You're just . . . the . . . the guy I know I could fall in love with some day."
"I think I already started to," he said shyly, almost apologetically.
"Oh, Kyle," I said, pulling him up off his knees and kissing him.
We fell backward into the bed, kissing madly. After a long session of rubbing each other's nipples, dicks, balls, and another general exploration session, Kyle broke the ice.
"So, what are we going to do?"
"We can do the next best thing," I said confidently, knowing what he was asking about.
"Okay," he said with his contagious energetic smile. "What?"
"You f--penetrate--make love to me."
"Me? I never thought about--I mean I couldn't. You're the one who's supposed to . . . I only thought about--I never thought about doing that," he said, somewhat nervous now.
"You mean, you'd rather not?" I gulped as I said it.
"Oh, no," he said, hugging for reassurance, "it's just--well--I don't know how."
"I don't either," I said, blushing hotly.
More? --Steve (Please scroll down for a list of my stories)
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Comments welcome. I'll reply to all substantial.
STEVE STORYMAN'S STORIES AT: www.nifty.org (Approximate Age Ranges represent current and future characters)
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stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)