Dedicated with affection to dudesweet (dude sweet at hot mail dot com), whom I hope is living something like this story right now; and josh (btomandback@hotmail.com), whose work has moved me, (and who deserves to be published!) I highly recommend their stories.
No real disclaimers, except that this is fiction -- with some real experiences occasionally woven in. The characters are composites, although somewhat based on several real high school classmates of mine. No names, but more on that at the end of the series.
I won't urge underage boys to avoid this site, or avoid this behavior. I think gay boys should have lots of sex, as often as possible -- as long as it's safe and healthy. Physically, and emotionally. That's important. And I think gay boys should have boyfriends, whenever they can.
Copyright 2005 by dlgrantsf@yahoo.com; all rights reserved, apart from the Nifty copyright. Please, do not repost, or edit.
Naked with Connor -- part 8
The next morning wasn't quite as pretty as the day before.
When I woke up, I was spooning Connor, way off to one side of the comforter; I had a kind of dim memory of trying to stay away from the wet spots, all night.
And to be honest -- we were a little messy. We'd crashed without really cleaning up, much; just wiping off with a towel.
His balls -- yeah, I'd been holding on to his balls, while we slept -- felt a little sticky . . .
Oh, well. Small price.
Plus -- none of that mattered, next to the whole reality of it. Of opening my eyes, in the gray dawn, climbing back up out of a deep sleep, and finding Connor there in my arms. Naked. Warm. Sticky; but warm, breathing softly, TOUCHING me.
I decided then we were going to live together someday. Sleep together, every night. In college, maybe.
I guess first I'd need to tell Connor. I mean, he'd need to know, eventually.
With that, I decided to get up, go to the bathroom; hoping I could get back and snuggle some more before Connor started breakfast. And that brought the next un-pretty discovery.
"Mmm-mmpphh?" muttered Connor, as I moved.
"Shhh. Be right back." I rolled to my knees, stood up ,and took a step. "Youch!" Another step. "Ouch!" Another step; and I figured out that walking kind of bowlegged, helped.
I heard stirring from the blankets, and Connor's head appeared.
"Oh, no," he muttered; then he buried his head back in the blankets, and I heard muffled laughter.
"Hey! A little sympathy, maybe?" Another couple of steps; this time, I only winced.
"Sorry. Brian kind of warned me about that." He slowly rolled over, untangled himself from the blankets, and stood up, gingerly.
"Don't get up! I wanted to come back to bed."
"We will." He took a couple of steps of his own, and his eyes widened; and I laughed. "Oooooo . . . not so bad, I guess." He took another couple of steps, bowlegged, like me.
"Well, if Brian didn't know about us before, he would now. After he saw us." As soon as I said it, I realized this was our last morning, and Brian was picking us up in the afternoon.
And then -- back to the way it was before. No privacy; almost no sex. Clothes back on. And on top of everything else -- it was a school night!
Connor read my face, of course.
"Come on. Let's snuggle for a couple more hours. And after that -- we've still got almost all day . . . "
We spent part of the morning exploring up the other arm, on the north side of the lake; in the canoe, of course.
I was going to miss that view of Connor. Kneeling naked, in the front of the canoe; that perfect butt perched on his heels, the soles of his feet flat open to me.
REALLY miss it.
And I thought, for the thousandth time at least, how STUPID I was not to bring a camera. A digital camera -- duh. I'd been saving up for a really good one, really high megapixels, with a good telephoto capability -- but.
What I would have given, to have pictures of the weekend.
Of Connor. And me. Nude, like that.
And I could do was promise myself to get one, as soon as we got home.
And then -- if only I could get some naked time with Connor, again . . .
We talked, more, while we paddled. About a lot of stuff. Mostly dancing around the "L"-word (love, I mean) but getting close to it. But other stuff, too, deeper things than before. Family; brothers, sisters, `rents. What we wanted to do with our lives. The World. Global Warming. Religion.
No; not a laundry list. It was like the day before; opening up to each other, only more so. Connor got serious, about a lot of things; and that made me think, and get serious back. We weren't just open about our feelings; we were also open about ideas, and, and, weird things he knew that I didn't know, and little things I cared about that he didn't know anything about . . . . and it made me realize how smart Connor really was. Or deep, maybe; how much about him, that I didn't know. I mean, how many boys can talk about Vatican II, while paddling a canoe, naked, across a lake?
And we also talked about sex. Of course.
Turns out, Connor really likes talking about sex. He's like, totally not embarrassed, talking about it. And he likes talking about it a lot.
Not exclusively; but a lot. That shy boy thing -- he saves it for stuff that matters; like us. The meaningful things about us; not just the sex.
I really like that. I'm not as good at it, I get shy; but I really admire it, and I'm getting there.
"I knew you'd be doing it to me, this weekend. But I didn't know how fantastic it was going to be; it's like, when you're inside me, you're part of me. And it's the most intense orgasm I've ever had, I swear to God . . . " He looked at me over his shoulder, as he paddled. "Did you feel it, when I came inside you, last night?"
"Huh?"
"Last night; when I came inside you. Both times. Did you feel it, like, squirt inside you, or anything?"
"Not exactly." I could feel my face getting kind of hot. "I could tell when you were, uh, coming. From how you moved. But -- " I trailed off.
"I thought so. I couldn't feel it when you came inside me, either. I think, anyway." Another couple of strokes. "I think that's, maybe, a myth."
"Oh." I went on paddling, watching his muscles working; watching his beautiful butt. "So -- you knew we were going to -- do it?"
"Fuck, you mean?" He grinned at me, over his shoulder. "I knew you were going to fuck me. So I trained for it."
"You TRAINED for it?"
"Yeah. Brian got me a dildo. You know? So -- I've practiced. A little, anyway."
"Jesus!" I took that in, for a second. "Like -- when?"
"Oh, at night. Sometimes." He kept his voice casual. "Sometimes while we were on the phone."
Meaning, while we were having phone sex.
"Jesus! I wish . . . oh, well." We paddled quietly, a few more strokes. "So . . . you knew I was, like, going to, like fuck you?"
"Yeah."
"How? We didn't talk about it."
"Are you serious?" He turned to glance at me, smiling. "You've had your hands on my butt, and in my butt, since we started. I mean, a LOT. I knew," he said. He sounded a little smug about it.
"I guess I did too."
"What I DIDN'T know was that you'd be so into getting fucked. That was just so -- awesome, last night. So awesome," and he reached back one hand, carefully, and I squeezed it. The canoe rocked a little, then we started up again.
"Yeah. All I could think about, up `til now, was getting -- well, getting into you. With my tongue, and well, you know." I could really feel myself blushing now; but it was cool. It was really good to talk about it. "But when I got comfortable with you being inside me . . . "
"Uh-huh." Another smile back at me. "We are gonna have so much fun this summer. So much." My stomach gave another butterflies-filled flip flop. For a bunch of reasons.
It's funny; but that's the way it's been with us, ever since. I'm obsessed with being inside Connor; it's what I crave, what I need, what I think about, all the time.
And he craves it too, he says. Getting fucked, I mean. It's his special thing.
(We work out well, that way.)
But -- whenever I get him inside me, it's like I'm a different person. I just go crazy . . .
Not that we've had all that many chances to try it, since then. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
It turned out to be the hottest day of the weekend, by far; we were both dripping sweat after awhile, as we went in and out of coves, around bends in the arm of the lake. I got to watch a big drop flow down Connor's back and disappear in the crack of his butt, and I licked my lips.
We began stopping every half-hour or so to cool off by swimming a little; which was great, except for the hassle of finding places where we could get in and out of the canoe without capsizing For me, anyway, the paddling as the easy part.
Swimming naked with Connor made it worth it.
Not that we swam much. Mostly just floated around, splashing a little. Touching each other.
Making out. A lot.
But -- different, then how we'd done it before.
Better, I think.
Even the day before, I'd been nervous, and a little self-conscious doing stuff like that with Connor. And, really, really, horny; I'd been in a kind of haze of lust.
Now -- well, there was still lust; but now I was ENJOYING it more. I didn't feel like I had to come, every half-hour; it was the sharing with Connor that was important, the way we were giving pleasure to each other. The soothing feeling of his hands on me; in the water, his body under my hands, our lips together . . .
And I was a lot more conscious of where we were; how we were. The sheer beauty of the place; the feelings, of the water and the warm breeze on our bare skin; it was like, now I could take time to enjoy it all, really feel the sensations.
Of course -- it helped, that we were so, well, fucked out. Jesus; we'd done a lot, so far.
"Baby?" I asked, as we kind of half-held each other, kicking lazily in the cool water.
"Hmmmm?"
It was the first time I'd called HIM that. He tried to act casual, but I could see his face light up, and he blushed. He wouldn't look at me, so I kissed him on the cheek.
"I was just trying to figure out -- how many times have we, like, come, on this trip? How many orgasms, I mean." Now it was my turn to feel kind of warm in the face.
"Are you keeping score?" He smiled at me.
"I just can't believe we've done so much together." I kissed him again. "It's been so -- fantastic. But I didn't think I could ever, like, do it as much as this."
"Maybe we should keep score. We could try to beat our personal records, going forward."
"Sure!" I reached over and fingered his left nipple with my free hand.
"Let me think . . . " He looked up at the sky, and screwed up his face, for a second. "I think it's either eight or nine times. I'm a little fuzzy about that first night."
"You're the one who kept waking me up!"
"'Cause you kept squeezing my balls! Point is, I was just as sleepy as you." He gave me a wet kiss, and I kissed him back.
"So," I said, still holding his waist as we kicked, "eight or nine times?"
"So far."
"Yeah. So far."
Towards the hottest part of the afternoon, we hauled out on the little island we'd talked about the day before.
It was a little tough; it didn't really have a beach, just a kind of ledge, formed by a couple of fallen trees which stuck out into the water. But we managed to get the canoe up and safe, and the food, water and blankets.
We got to explore the island nude. Just like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, Connor said; me, I just regretted, for the thousandth-and-second or --third time, not having a camera. Those images of Connor, all bare, scrambling and climbing around -- priceless. Totally, totally priceless. His bare body, smooth skin, -- tanning fast, I could tell -- against the grass and trees --
We spread out the blanket in the shade, in the smoothest spot we could find.
And it happened again. Right away.
We both knew it would, too. I could tell what he was thinking, what he was expecting, by the way he moved. By the way he carefully didn't look at me, as he smoothed out his side of the blanket.
Just like last time -- he was kneeling, on his hands and knees, facing away from me as he laid out the blanket. His butt was totally open and exposed to me. His scrotum hung down between his legs. His dick -- I could see it filling out, getting hard.
And I hadn't even touched him yet.
Like I said -- I could tell he was expecting it. Wanting it. And it made me so -- excited. Warm; flushed, full of love, full of, well, like, awe.
And instantly hard. Duh.
I touched him lightly, on his hip; and he froze, just froze, in position.
I ran my hand over his butt cheek, lightly; fingering, caressing, moving my fingertips deeper into his butt; touching, teasing parts of him I've come to know so well.
Connor moaned, and shifted like he was going to lie down.
"Wait," I whispered. I put my hands on his hips. I spread his legs, a little, then gently pushed his head and shoulders down onto his forearms. "Stay like this, a minute. I can get deeper, this way . . . "
"OOOhhhh . . ." I heard his muffled moan.
He was so, SO open to me, this way. So beautifully open. Exposed; every part of his butt and his genitals, open and exposed for me to play with, and so, so NEEDY --
And that, I realized, is what made it different from yesterday Better. We'd done this, before; we knew what we liked, for the most part. We knew what each other liked.
And I knew I was going to make him come.
I nuzzled my face between his cheeks and licked slowly, and hard, up his butt crack; from his balls to the base of his spine, using the flat of my tongue. Really slowly; not stopping as I oozed over his anus. Connor squeaked, a little, and squirmed his butt, especially as I tongued over his anus; I just ignored it, moved with him until I was done.
Then I did it again; one long, deliberate, slow lick up his butt.
"Mmmmmphhhhgggg -- !"
"Hmmmm?" I brushed my fingertips over his smooth anus again, feather light, as I dived down to lick his hanging balls.
"More," he whispered. So I nuzzled between his cheeks again, nosing and pressing my chin into his perineum; getting eye-to-eye with his anus, touching his anus, giving that beautiful smooth thing a kiss, then another kiss, then another long lick, this time with the tip of my tongue . . .
"Urrrrghhhhh!" He drove his butt harder against my face, so I pressed my face in harder; pushing my tongue tip against his hole, then drawing back, just tickling it with the tip, then pushing HARD again . . .
"OOOOoooohhhhh -- !" I felt his right hand reach out and start to blindly paw around in the blanket; and I stopped him.
"Shhhh . . . just relax. You're too sore, remember?"
We both were. We'd felt ourselves, and each other, up as we'd showered that morning. WAY too sore for fucking.
Well, today, anyway.
"I don't care! I really want it!"
Connor can get demanding about sex, I've found out. Especially anal sex.
"Shhhh . . . " I licked him again, briefly. "Let's try something new. Instead."
"What." He didn't sound happy about it, exactly.
"This," I said. I licked him, again, deep, and he shivered all over; I felt it. "How about I just rim you, until you come?" A tender wet kiss on his smooth anus; then another teasing lick. "Only this time," I whispered, "you let me in really deep. Okay? Let me get my tongue really deep inside you . . . "
"OOOOHHHHH!!" He gasped loud, then I heard him panting. "Wait. Wait!"
I waited; though it was hard, facing his butt like that, his anus twitching right in front my eyes.
I felt something touch the tip of my dick, and I jumped, and looked down; Connor had reached down between our legs, and wiped some precum from the tip of my dick.
I was drooling so bad, there was a big wet spot on the blanket underneath me.
Connor sucked my juice off the tip of his finger, and my dick twitched like anything.
"One condition," my boyfriend said, his voice still kind of muffled by the blanket.
"What?"
Without saying a word, Connor got partway up, faced me, and gave me the most ferocious wet kiss he'd ever given me -- and he'd given me a lot. Then he pushed me back on the blanket, `til I was flat out on my back; and I let him go on arranging my body, wondering where this was going.
When Connor crawled on top of me, into the classic 69 position, I thought I knew; but then, still on his elbows and knees, above me, he kept going, further down, and then he was kind of lifting up my legs, and putting them in back of his arms, and I figured it out, and wrapped my legs around his waist and hooked my feet together, and brought my head up --
And then my face was back up in his butt, and I felt a cool rush of air as his hands spread my cheeks apart, and the warm puff of his breath against my own anus, and then a wet tickle as he began to gently lick, and nibble, as I probed and licked at him . . .
We curled tighter together, as we went; I found myself opening up to Connor's mouth and tongue more and more, and I was making whimpering noises as he worked on me, squeezing his waist with my crossed legs until he had to whisper out to me to stop . . .
But at the same time I made love to him with my wet mouth; spreading him more with my fingers, telling him, over and over and over to relax, to open up, to let me in; and my tongue got in deeper and deeper, more into his slick center, and he moaned into my own butt until I could feel it as I rolled up my tongue into a point and REALLY pushed, deep into him --
We pushed and moved each other all over the blanket. We rolled over, switched positions so that I was on top with my head down slurping into his butt, and at the same time pushing my butt down on his mouth, trying to get more of his wriggling tongue into me. Then we were on our sides; then over again, and I broke away so that I could sit up, pull his beautiful butt into the air, his legs spread out in a Y under me, and dive in as he wriggled and squealed and moaned . . .
In the end we were all wrapped up in a 69-ball of flesh again, Connor on top again; and we were both so, so close. I pulled my face back, touched his beautiful anus with one fingertip, and just marveled at how open he was, how deep I'd gotten, and I dived back in, and I was THERE, I was so deep, I was IN him --
And I heard him gasp. And under my fingertips, I could feel his balls really MOVE, pull up like they were trying to disappear inside him --
And I felt him come. His sphincter squeezed shut like a vice, pushing my tongue completely out, slick muscle against slick muscle; and my chest was all of a sudden covered with his warm wetness, and he made a strangled noise into my own butt --
And then I was there too. From his chest rubbing on my dick, his smooth chest, and everything else that was going on, his tongue in me there, and everything --
I squeezed him tight with my crossed legs as I spurted, and spurted, and whimpered, and spurted, and still I felt his fingers holding me open, his tongue licking and lapping at me as I came, and came, came.
We collapsed -- slowly -- onto our sides, still in the anal 69 position, as we panted and gasped and came down from the intensity of our orgasms. I could feel our two loads of semen dripping down my body, as we lay there.
And as I lay there, my head cushioned on his inner thigh, his head between my own legs, still making little nuzzling motions and kisses back there, I felt -- I don't know. Satisfied? A really poor way of saying, happy, overflowing with love and gratitude, but also -- well, physically, COMPLETE, somehow. Calm; I could feel my body just humming with a kind of tired joy, that merged with the way I felt for the boy in my arms.
And it struck me, that the way we were, just then -- head to crotch, wrapped together so closely -- was the perfect symbol of Connor and me, that weekend. Together; intimate; circular; not sure where one of us ended, and the other began . . . .
And my mind was clear, clear in a way it hadn't been for a long time. Since before this trip came up; maybe, ever.
Love can change you; I think that love, and MAKING love, the act of sex, can make you sane. And whole. And I never wanted to be without this, this physical and spiritual connection, with Connor, ever again.
The next chapter is coming soon.
Comments are welcome, to dlgrantsf@yahoo.com.
Many, many thanks, to everyone who has already written! I'm very touched by your kind words.
And, thanks for reading.