It was a warm evening, and I decided to wear shorts, so I pulled on a pair of the snug briefs that I usually wore with shorts, rather than my normal boxers. The legs of the in-style shorts that all of us favored were pretty baggy, and I was always concerned that people could see right up the legs to my package, if I sat in just the right way, and I was shy about somebody catching a glimpse of my cock head, or my balls. I pulled on the cargo shorts, a logo tee shirt, and my sandals, and was on my way.
I parked the car around the corner from the party house, and as I walked toward it, the already thumping music filled my ears with the pounding bass tones. There were kids scattered variously around the front yard, and the porch, and as I made my way to the open front door, I greeted several of them. Inside, I paused in the foyer, looking around the crowded room. It was pretty much the usual crowd, a mixture heavier with boys, than girls, and the dining room furniture had been pushed to the walls to create a makeshift dance floor. Several couples were gyrating to the loud music, and there were even a few girl-girl couples dancing. Why, I wondered, was it a total non-event for two chicks to dance together, when the sight of two dudes dancing would be cause for a major round of "fag" remarks. I sighed, as I deftly scoped the cute little mounds of Bobby Richard's butt, as he leaned against a wall chatting up some girl. I would seriously like to dance a few rounds with that tight little bubble, I thought, and sighed again, knowing that idea had a chance somewhere equal to the proverbial snowball in hell.
Bobby Richards was pretty much the stud of our class, an absolute hunk in a gentle sort of way. Stone cute to look at, and a stellar jock, to boot, he was like a three letter athlete, excelling in track, swimming, and baseball. He was a slim six feet, and I'd guess maybe 160, 165. His hair was so soft looking as to almost be fluffy, and was a very light shade of brown, almost sandy color during the summer months. He wore it fairly long, over his ears and collar, and he had this totally cute mannerism of unconsciously flicking at the stray strands that frequently drifted over his forehead. I loved watching him do that, and was continuously intrigued with the almost dainty appearance of his hands, and slim fingers. I had many times envisioned those delicate fingers wrapped firmly around the throbbing shaft of my cock as he fed it into his lush, full mouth. That was another of those snowball in hell comparisons. I positioned myself to further check him out, letting my eyes drift over the delicious bulge at the front of his snug Levis, and felt my mouth water at the prospect of the treasure that lurked there, so near, and yet.... yea well, you know. I was mildly surprised to note that Bobby held a beer in his hand, and was pulling at it rather hungrily as he worked his charms on the girl. Being the athlete that he was, he rarely went at the booze at these events, but then I realized that school sports were kind of in between seasons right now, with competitive swimming finished, and baseball still a few weeks away. I gave Bobby's bulges another longing look, sighed, and walked into the kitchen.
If anything, the mob in the small kitchen outnumbered the throng in the living room, this being where the makeshift bar had been established. The usual heavy-handed drinkers were milling about, never wandering too far from the source of a refill, as was their practice on the party circuit. I dipped my hand into a large metal tub full of ice, and the resultant cold-ass water, and retrieved a Pepsi, and popped it open. I nodded to several friends, and tried to chat with a few, but the din of voices, laughter, and ear splitting hip-hop made conversation all but impossible. I angled toward the back door, managing a few delightful body rubs against some very hot dudes, grinning, and shrugging sheepishly, as I indicated the tightness of the throng had made it necessary to initiate contact in an effort to pass. I really hate myself when I'm sly that way.
I made it outside, and joined yet another large crowd who milled around in small groups, drinking and chatting, and stopped to observe a second dance floor area on the concrete patio that surrounded the really awesome swimming pool. Fortunately, the blaring music from inside the house was so loud that it sounded like it was actually outside, so we were spared a second, and separate, source of the throbbing music. I paused, watching Adam Trent gyrate his yummy little body wildly, keeping pace with a nubile young thing, her basketball sized tits threatening to spill from her skimpy halter top. Adam's eyes were laser-locked on the bouncing melon, as he no doubt prayed for just such an occurrence. I played my eyes over Adam's thrusting crotch, and felt a small tingle course through my balls at being able to clearly see his apparently very erect cock pressing against the kaki material of the snug pants he was wearing. I licked my lips, and recalled the numerous times I had lay in my bed at night, feverishly stroking my cock as I thought of the many delicious things I would like to do with that impressive member. Yes, Adam was another of the fantasies, or rather, frustrations, that frequently haunted my solo reveries, and was also yet another of the snowball in hell examples. Why, I queried of myself, do all of these hunky dudes have to be so disgustingly straight, making near fools of themselves, and ending up mostly frustrated, in the constant pursuit of pussy, when with me, all they need do is ask. Life, I decided, did indeed pretty much suck.
Eventually, one of the girls that I called friend, and meant it, caught up with me, and coerced me onto the dance floor, and that precipitated about ninety minutes of non-stop thumping and bumping that actually ended with a headache. Sweating, and winded, I begged off finally, and made my way back to the back yard, fresh cold Pepsi in hand. I wandered over to a dim corner of the back yard, and sat down on a raised brick planter, cooling down, and rubbing the cold soda can over my forehead, trying to chase off the headache. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed a mound of bodies entangled on a nearby lounge seat, seriously involved in the pursuit of carnal knowledge with each others anatomy. As someone exited the small cabana that sat at the backside of the pool, a brief splash of light washed over the would-be lovers, and I noted with a smile that it was Bobby Richard's, and one of his constant pursuits, Terri, I think was her name. I shook my head, wondering to myself why Bobby never seemed to get it, or rather, never seemed to realize that he was NOT going to get it, with this one, at least. Even among the other girls Terri was a well known cock tease, one who seemed to love tormenting any horny guy who would go for her act, engaging in a ton of heavy kissing, and groping, but absolute in her resolve to arrive at the eventual alter totally in tact between her lithe legs. The word was that she even stopped short of administering a hand job, or, the now very vogue blow job, that many girls favored as an option to giving up the real deal. Poor Bobby was definitely trolling for a serious set of blue balls tonight by trying to score this one, and I chuckled softly, happier in the knowledge that I wasn't going to be the only one in that aching nut boat tonight. Misery, indeed, loves a little company.
I sipped my Pepsi, and sat quietly in the shadows, watching the two of them writhe around on the lounge, legs tangled, and mouths clamped furiously together, and I drew a quick mental image of Bobby's rock hard cock as it throbbed against those tight Levi's, filled with the raging passion that Ms. Terri had doubtless unleashed within him. I closed my eyes, and strained hard to telepath him the message to just give her up, bring that formidable weapon to good old Ryan, and have all your wishes fulfilled, willingly, and repeatedly. I opened my eyes, and sighed, disappointed that he did NOT seem to be getting my mental memo. As I continued to watch, voyeur that I can be at times, I noted a flash of white, as Ms. Terri's dainty bra landed on the grass next to the lounge, and Bobby boy nuzzled his creamy cheeked face against her pert little tits, an audible groan from him reaching my ears. Gawd, I thought, a chill sliding down my spine, that thing must be granite hard, and, even leaking, I'd bet. I took a long pull from the Pepsi, almost tasting the slippery fluid that I was sure was making the front of his undies seriously wet. I shuddered slightly at the delicious, nasty thought.
Their heated grappling continued, accompanied by delightful soft mews, and moans, as my own cock stiffened in my shorts. I glanced around, then reached down to adjust it to a more comfortable position, and gave it a few strokes in the process, more chills dancing over my spine. Hey Bobby, I thought, look what I have for you, Dude, I thought with a small giggle. There was a short lull in the heated action then, as they had a brief whispered exchange, then, they struggled up from the lounge, and stealthily snuck onto the cabana. I caught a brief view of Ms. Terri's small, bare tits as they passed through the light, and shook my head, wondering just what was the big freeking deal....hell, if I flexed, mine were almost that big. I sighed again, and decided that the show was over, and that Bobby was more than welcome to the blue balls club, and headed back inside.
Another hour passed, and I was once more dragged into the wild dance scene, and had just escaped back to the kitchen, when I saw a somewhat disheveled Ms. Terri slip through the back door, and head to the small bathroom that was just off the kitchen. I smiled, picturing a very frustrated Bobby Richard's outside in the cabana, probably trying desperately to stuff that luscious slab of meat back inside those Levi's. If Ms. Terri held to tradition, his balls would right about now be boiling, and still fully charged, save for the gallon or so of precum that he had deposited into his undies. I shook my head, thinking how much happier BOTH of us would be, had Bobby Richard's only had the good sense to take ME to the cabana, instead. I really do need to find some way to get him that particular memo, I decided, it was, after all, kind of important to our balls, both sets. As that thought passed through my cerebellum, a very flushed Bobby Richard's half charged through the backdoor, and made a direct beeline for the bar, where he poured about half a glass full of some form of poison, and knocked it back, before refilling it. He made short work of that hit, too, and quickly topped off the glass once more, before retreating back outside. Ms Terri exited the commode about then, looking very self satisfied, if not downright smug. Bitch, I thought to myself, selfish, nasty, mean spirited, AND, no tits! Jeez!
I turned toward the door, thinking that I'd go outside, and maybe try to hookup with Bobby, and give him a shoulder to bitch on, when my friend Kari grabbed my arm, and dragged me once more into the dancing frenzy in the dining room. We gyrated among the packed bodies that crammed the small space, and I'm sure that Kari was fully aware of the inflated state of my dick, as it definitely poked her firm little ass more than once as we pretty much had sex, fully dressed, and standing up, set to music. I finally extricated myself from the fracas, as the dude playing DJ made his next CD selection, and beat a retreat through the still packed kitchen, and out the back door. I looked around at the few people that were still hanging there, and spotted Bobby, once more sprawled on the lounge that he had earlier shared with Ms. No-tits. I took a minute to cool down from the frantic dance floor antics, then, wandered over to where Bobby was, and dropped onto the grass beside him. I did a not very subtle once over of his prone body, pausing to fully check out the packed front of his Levi's, and felt that funny zing in my balls, as I focused on his obviously very hard cock, where it throbbed behind the snug denim. Poor baby, I thought, all dressed out, and nowhere to go. I licked my lips, feeling my own cock stretch in my shorts, and silently imaged that rock hard wonder sliding into my hungry mouth, where it would surly find the relief that it so obviously needed.
Bobby stirred then, and his head lolled toward me, a slightly bleary expression on his cute face. His eyes blinked a few times as he got me into focus, and a sweet smile crossed his lush, full lips, as he muttered, "Hey Bro...Ryan....what's up, Dude?" I chuckled, as all of that had come out in one very mushy, very inebriated, slur. My Bobby, it seemed, had seriously overtaxed his metabolic abilities when he slam dunked those rapid rondo's at the bar a while ago. I returned his slightly lopsided smile, and replied, "Yo, Bobby....just chilling out some...too much dancing." He giggled a silly sound, his head rolling against the lounge pad as though he was having trouble controlling it, and mumbled, "Yea, cool.....dance.....what I shoulda done, too...." I scooted closer to him, and leaned close to his almost pretty face, and asked, "Hey, Dude...you OK....sounding a little toasty there..." He giggled again, his floppy head trying to nod, and muttered, "Getting there....I hope, anyway....jeez....my freeking balls actually....hurt!" I grinned, as the idea of just reaching out and grabbing his objects of reference crossed my wicked mind, and replied, "Really....?" I can be SO glib, at times. His floppy head tried to nod in the affirmative, as he sputtered, "Really, Dude.....bad case....fucking bitch!" Grinning again, at the affirmation of my own opinion of the fair Ms. Terri-no-tits, I resisted the urge to tell him "I told you so," thinking of my earlier attempt to telepath him, and instead replied, "That sucks, Dude." More glibness, jeez!
Bobby made a serious attempt to acquire some semblance of a sitting position, and almost made it, then, reached out suddenly, and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to him. The scent of his cologne, and the stench of the booze he had recently inhaled, wafted through my nostrils, and I felt my dick grow harder still from the contact of his hand holding mine. He gave me a smirky grin, and said, "Ryan...dude....be a pal, would ya....go get me a beer, dude?" I chuckled, and answered, "I'm thinking you probably don't really need any more help killing your liver, Bobby....you're pretty much toasted now." He giggled, once more trying to nod his head, and mumbled, "Not near enough yet....fucking cunt....gotta get fried... so my nuts go numb..." I had to laugh, and did, as Bobby again tugged on my arm firmly, bringing my face mere inches from his. I gazed at his lush, full mouth, and very nearly succumbed to the temptation to kiss him, my cock poking painfully against my tight undies. "Come on, Ryan....please dude....I need a freeking beer....and....not sure....I can....make the trip, you know...?" As he muttered this, his warm, booze tainted, breath blew softly against my cheek, and I reveled in the warmth of it, again tempted to close the very small distance between us, and kiss those very kissable lips. Instead, I smiled, and winked, and replied, "Ok Bobby...sure, dude....anything for you...just don't be blaming me in the morning when you wake up dead, ok?" He giggled sweetly, his floppy head rolling around, and muttered, "Ryan White....you, Dude... are... definitely....my main man!" I chuckled, thinking, if you only had a clue, Bobby-boy, I would SO like to be your main man, AND cure that awful set of blue balls you're packing, too. I got up, and boldly ruffled his soft hair, saying, "Hang in, Bobby...be right back." And I headed for the house to get him the last thing he needed.
As I crossed the patio, I realized that the other party goers had all retreated to the house, and then realized that the volume of the music had been blessedly reduced to a level that it was now only faintly audible outside the house, which was no doubt why everyone had gone inside. Probably a response to some cranky neighbor threatening to enlighten the local law enforcement regarding the raucous event was responsible for that, I decided. I squirmed my way through the packed kitchen, a gauntlet-running event that required sufficient concentration on my part, so that my aching dick thankfully returned to at-ease in my shorts. I fished a couple of beers from the tub, and made the return squirm to the door, then, back to Bobby. As I approached, the at-ease condition of my cock did an abrupt about-face, as I realized that Bobby had removed his shoes, socks, and shirt, and was now in the fumbling process of trying to get out of the snug Levi's. My eyes drank in the smooth firmness of his chest, and the rather large, quarter-sized nipples that dotted the satin smooth skin, and drifted over the flat tummy, and I smiled, at seeing the tiny wrinkle of lingering baby fat that created a cute little crease below his navel, as he bent at the waist, struggling with the Levi's.
I dropped down on my knees on the grass, and stared, as he thumbed open the snap, and slid down the zipper of his jeans, tugging them open, and exposing the small briefs that he wore. I gulped, as he began working the material down his legs, and his clearly throbbing erection came into view, seriously straining the snug briefs at the front. "Going nudie, are we Bobby?" I asked, trying my best to look into his eyes, and mostly failing. He giggled that goofy sound again, and stopped struggling with the pants, as he got me into focus. He reached out toward me, and muttred, "Beer...!" and I put one in his hand. He fumbled, and popped it, then, tipped it up, sucking noisily from the can, and I openly stared at his swollen package, my mouth watering profusely. Jesus, he is freeking packing, I thought, and thick, too! He continued to drain the beer, as I stared at his thick shaft, and the large lump of his cramped, and very blue balls, thinking that the pent up load they contained must surly be of gusher proportion.
Bobby dropped the empty beer can onto the grass, and burped loudly, followed by more giggles, as he staggered to his feet, the Levi's puddling at his ankles. I was now roughly eye level with his fully extended crotch, and struggled mightily to not just mash my face against that straining wonder, and peel those very sexy briefs down his toned legs, and swallow him whole. I forced myself to look up at him, and he stumbled, as he tried to take a step with the jeans pooled around his ankles. He staggered again, near falling, and I quickly wrapped my arms around his thick thighs, steadying him. His raging hardon brushed against my cheek, and I actually groaned, feeling the heat, and hardness of it on my skin, and I mumbled, "Bobby...what the fuck dude...?" He giggled again, and managed to shed the tangled jeans from his feet, and muttered drunkenly, "Swim....gonna swim..." I let go of his legs, the heady scent of his packed crotch filling my senses, and watched, incredulous, as he stumbled to the pool, and jumped in.
Being not at all sure he wouldn't just sink like a rock, I hurried to the edge of the pool, ready to go in after him if need be, and watched, as he surfaced, sputtering slightly, and kicked off, swimming strong stokes the full length of the pool, before executing a pretty fair flip-turn, considering his condition, and stroking to the opposite end. He swam several strong laps, his natural abilities as a varsity swimmer taking precedence over his drunken state, and finally stopped at my feet, gripping the coping with his hands. He smiled up at me, and that zing thing shot through my balls once more, as I reveled in his abject cuteness, and his silly, very boyish grin. "Feel better?" I asked with a smile of my own, and he nodded, as I noted that he was not even breathing hard, despite several very vigorous laps of the pool. "Yea, I'm cool, just....toasted....and freeking....horny!" he chuckled, then, pushed off the wall, and paddled to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. I stood dead in my tracks, nearly mesmerized, as he ascended the steps, and walked toward me. The small briefs clung to him like skin, soaking wet, and very nearly transparent, the thick stalk of his still swollen cock clearly outlined in the clinging material, and his very plump ball sac equally as visible. I gulped, my own cock a hot rod of steel straining in my shorts as I just stared, unable to tear my gaze from that incredible package of prime boyhood.
Without a word, he passed me, spraying fine drops of water over me, as he shook his flaxen locks, and walked back to the lounge. He very nearly gave me full apoplexy with his next move, as he calmly skinned out of the clinging briefs, and bent down to retrieve his shirt from the grass. As I stood there gape-jawed, he proceeded to towel his naked body with the shirt, calmly drying himself, while that thick, and beautiful cock swayed forth, jutting straight off his groin. I shuddered, staring at his incredible display, and my hungry gaze took in the fullness of his snug ball sac, and the taut muscles of his hairless thighs. He turned profile then, bending slightly as he dabbed at his legs with the shirt, and I almost emptied my own aching balls into my undies, as the firm globes of his ass shown in the soft light. It was the text book bubble butt, small, and tight, the shadowed crease perfectly dissecting the twin melons, and I longed to drop to the ground, and bury my face between them. Finished with his drying attempt, Bobby retrieved his Levi's, and stepped awkwardly into them, then, pulled them up his legs. Sadly, he tucked his delicious equipment away, and carefully maneuvered the zip into place. He sat then, and got his socks and shoes back on, and once more staggered to his feet, tossing a boyish, and slightly sheepish, grin my way. He beckoned me with his finger, and I suddenly snapped out of my reverie, realizing that I hadn't so much as blinked, or breathed, throughout his whole breath-taking display, and I quickly moved to his side, my mind still replaying the vivid images of his nudity, and that incredible cock, and balls. He reached out, and pulled me firmly against him, and I slid my arms around him, my hands roaming the incredible smoothness of his naked back, as he hugged me, his thick erection mashed solidly against my own. I was sure he could feel my hammering heart beating against his bare chest, and I was consumed with the feel, and the scents of him. Feeling suddenly bold, and daring, I gave into my lust, and extended my tongue, licking the soft, smooth skin of his upper chest, and across his slightly puffy nipple, still stiff from the water. He tensed slightly at the contact, then, exhaled deeply, and I felt a small shudder pass through him, as he mumbled my name against my hair, as we stood there, rock still. I could, I realized, almost count his pulse, from the strong contractions of his very hard cock, where it pressed against me.
Bobby relaxed then, and pulled back slightly, and I almost heard the shattering of the moment. He looked into my eyes, the sheepish little grin returning to his lush mouth, and he said, very softly, "Ryan, my main-man, I seriously need a ride home." I chuckled, looking into his incredible eyes, and replied, "Like I said before, Bobby....anything, for you."
(To be Continued) Storyguy22@yahoo.com