The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between young males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
Other stories by this author include: Seduced after School (posted to Young Friends, 8/19/04) College Visit (posted to Adult/Youth, 9/06/04)
Comments and suggestions are welcome and you can e-mail them to MarianasDeep@hotmail.com
The Boathouse
I remember most fondly Steve and the endless summers swimming off his pier in front of the boathouse. We all lived on the lake, but hung out at Steve's because his family owned the longest pier, the best water (no weeds), and the waterski boat. It was getting toward the end of summer. We were buff and tan from all the waterskiing, swimming, and sun. At 15, I was going to be a sophomore, and at 14, Steve was going to be a freshman. He had an older brother Bill who was my age and built like a brick, who by 13 had a full pubic bush and a 6 pack stomach, and was the woo of the girls. Yeah, I fantasized about him, but his younger brother Steve was eye candy. He was shorter and svelt, but not weak. You could count 4 ribs under his well-defined pecs from his quarter-sized tits to his underarms, but the rest of his rib cage submerged into a muscular frame. He did not have a 6-pack, but did have two distinct, curved sides of his abdomen separated by a furrow extending from his sternum to his inward navel. The pubic curve was like a subtly inflated volley ball, rounding from above his navel to the pelvis and downward to his shorts-covered cock, outwardly pressing against his navel as if it were the inflation valve. His tight bubble-butt sat above long, curved legs. Steve was a walking Donatello's David to his brother's Michelangelo's. We would swim in short Levi cutoffs without underwear, fraying even shorter at the bottom, and with round regions where there was no blue, just horizontal white threads tensioned across a hole that if relaxed, would open to a view of an ass, an upper leg, or perhaps even a testicle. Often after swimming, we would go into his house to eat or something. Steve would sit on the couch below the picture window as I sat across the room looking out the window at the lakefront and the boathouse. Steve showed no embarrassment to be sitting with his legs spread, as I furtively stole views of his balls, and even his cock, up his short's leg openings. Over time, I realized he was giving me these views on purpose, often arresting my gaze with a smile.
One evening we were into one of our shove-in contests off the end of his pier, the loser always climbing out of the water to initiate another grappling match, hoping this time that his opponent would go over the edge in a splash while not getting dragged in along. All the grabbing and holding, not to mention the ego competition, was making us both horny. It was Steve, not me, who suggested we go into the boathouse, but then again, it was his for the inviting. We went in the side door that opened onto the starboard bow of the waterski boat that was sitting up on its shore-station, turned right toward the wooden stairs that started up toward the wall, then turned left going up along the wall through a hole in the ceiling, an opening in the floor of the room above. Ah, the boathouse. Much virginity, hetero and homo, was lost there. The door was never locked, and even if it was, you could swim in under the garage door if you (or your partner) were willing to get wet. Like a carriage house, the boathouse was a separate building in the yard, and had "living quarters" above the garage. The upstairs room was accessible from the stairway/hole-in-the-floor with no locks. Although stuffy, the room was warm and wind-free well into autumn from sunlight through 4 windows, and most importantly, it was bug free. The room was no longer used for lodging by anyone, long since taken over by sail bags, canvas covers, waterskis, paddles, and old life jackets. There was some furniture however, several wooden chairs, a table, and an old couch. Steve and I got to the top of the stairs, into the middle of the room, and then surprisingly, Steve held out for an embrace. In the fading light of evening, made darker by the enclosure of the room, we held each other somewhat uncomfortably, but with thoughts of, "Hey, why not? We're good friends." Then it progressed a little further.
"I'll give you a blow job if you give me one," Steve suggested.
I didn't expect to hear that and was surprised with delight. Though it was Steve's offer, I initiated by dropping to my knees in front of him, slowly working the button and wet, stiff zipper of his shorts. When loosened, the waterlogged shorts had to be rolled down, peeled off to expose the virgin-white flesh contrasted with his bronze, tan body, until they were bunched in a wet ribbon smelling of algae and boy sweat. Steve's 4-inch cock, framed above by a delicate patch of thickening pubes, emerged erect from the tugging, springing up enough to lightly slap his stomach. When the shorts were bunched enough to drop them below his knees, I grabbed his ass with one hand, his cock with the other, and began my first cocksucking session. After a few hesitant licks of the underside of the shaft, I wrapped my mouth over his prick, tonguing the piss slit and cheeking the sides of his shaft. The taste of cock filled my mouth as his supple cherry slid across my tongue, followed by a rigid shaft supporting a flexible tube on its underside that would soon pulse and deliver.
"Ah...man," was all that Steve could sound.
Steve pulled back a little, then thrust forward giving me the idea to move my head the same way. Once his stiff cock found its own way into my mouth with its own rhythm, I could let go with my hand, freeing it to fondle his hairless balls and occasionally reaching between his legs to join my other hand in massaging his boy butt. Looking upward from the end of Steve's cock, I could see his torso, nipples hardening in the fading light. Steve's knees seemed to be going weak as he could hardly stand, when suddenly I felt my mouth filling with warm cum. Oh, I forgot that part, or I wasn't expecting it so fast. Either way, through my desire, I had been clouded about the outcome of this session of licking and wetting his prick until I could taste it. I took another wave, and another before I realized that if I didn't like it, I should pull off. Though I opened to drool a bit out, I decided to stay on, swallowing the rest. Steve looked at me with delight,
"Man you suck great! I can't believe you took my load! Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Later, Steve hesitantly added, "Your turn?"
Wow, I couldn't believe it. I was about to get my first blowjob. I stood while unbuttoning and unzipping. Steve started wrapping my shorts down as he went down on his knees in front of me. My cock was straight up, the tip above his head. Being shorter than me anyway, Steve had to stand back up a little to get his mouth over the top. He wasn't sure he wanted to start, or how to, but chose to go over the top right at first, licking the shaft below my cherry as he slowly slid it to the back of his throat. Having already cum, he wasn't as much into the cocksucking as I had been. He seemed to be sucking in an obligatory way, but overcome with my pent-up desire from sucking him, I blew a load in his mouth before I could warn him and before he was ready. To his credit, he stayed on to finish the job, even if he opened his mouth to let it out. What a feeling of release and excitement as I watched Steve loose his lips from my cock and lick my cum-covered shaft.
We had 6 or 7 more blowjob sessions that summer before school started, and I learned by the second time that 69'ing on the couch was the way to go. The anticipatory desire actually focused my attention on the cock I was working while getting mutually satisfied. Nose in the balls rather than the bush, I smelled incredible manhood as I took his spray on the roof of my mouth rather than my tongue. By the 5th or 6th time, we were even cumming together.
One time leaving the door of the boathouse, Steve's neighbor Tom was walking along the lakefront. I always thought Tom was a dork. He was in my class, and always seemed naive, irritating, and just not cool. Tom had a sinewy body which I didn't like either--defined yes, sinewy no--but he had a chest to die for. He walked up to us "covered" in one of those fishnet t-shirts that leave nothing to the imagination. Firm, but not overdeveloped, his ribbled abdomen led to defined pecs with folded nipples, coned to the sides in a display of recently-ripened, potent manhood.
"What were you guys doing in there?"
We obviously looked flush, but made some comment about checking the boat or something. I thought he was clueless.
When we started school that fall, for the first time, I had Tom in gym class. Why do dorks always have huge cocks? Tom's wasn't fat, but it was the longest cock I'd ever seen. Boys were lucky if their cocks hung to the base of their balls; Tom's at least doubled that distance, and he had low hanging balls to measure with. His swing had a component of forward-and-back motion as well as the common side-to-side. Our first gym session was wrestling which I and several of my friends didn't like. We made our opinions known in ridicule, "Queers rolling around together on a mat." Tom of course was on the wrestling team, and didn't like what we had to say. The gym instructor was trying to teach escapes from the bottom position while the one in the top position practiced take-downs. One session, I was in bottom position, hands and knees on the mat, while Tom knelt beside with hands on my back. Partly because I hated it and showed no interest in learning, and partly because Tom was on the team, at the whistle, I lost fast. Tom dropped my furthest arm out from under me, wrapped his other arm around into a half-nelson, and climbed on top of me, dropping my opposite shoulder on the mat. He was also supposed to practice this other move: while on top of my back, head to head, he locked his ankles with mine and spread my legs. We were only in gym uniforms--shorts and t-shirt--so I felt his hardening cock on my ass. The instructor called the match off as I felt two quick, visually-imperceptible thrusts against my crack. Before getting up, Tom put his head near mine and spoke for my ears only, "We'll finish this later." Tom pushed his upper body weight onto his arms, leaving his lower body weight to press his cock on my asscrack before he went to knees and standing. He may not have liked being called queer by association, but he was sure acting like one.
Later that week, Steve told me to meet him at the boathouse after supper. I was excited for another cocksucking session. As it was well into September by then, it was getting dark as I climbed the stairs into the room looking for Steve. By the time I got to the middle of the room, I realized I was alone, but heard footsteps topping the stairs. I turned expecting to see Steve.
"Hi Jeff, ready to finish our session?" It was Tom. I wasn't sure what he meant.
"Where's Steve?" I asked awkwardly.
"Who, your suck buddy?" Tom replied. I'd been betrayed. Either Steve told Tom about us directly, or he had told his brother. "He's not here. Guess you'll just have to blow me."
"Nah, that's o.k. Tom. I'm sure you can satisfy yourself," I said as I nervously walked to the stairwell trying to bypass Tom. Tom grabbed my arm and began loosening my belt.
"You don't understand," he said unbuttoning and zipping me down, "I'm giving you a chance to lube it up," as he pulled my underwear and jeans off of my hardening cock, then wrapping them around my ankles, he added, "You may want that for where it's going next."
I wasn't sure what he meant, but didn't have long to think. He pulled my shirt off as he tripped me over my jean-bound ankles to my knees and walked in front of me zipping down. He unbuttoned the top of his jeans letting the bulge in his white briefs part the fly while he pulled his own shirt off. Then he dropped the back of his jeans off his ass, pulling them to his knees, and grabbed the elastic in front of his underwear, releasing his hardon to my face. He slapped his cock on my cheek and lips, then told me to open up. I wanted to suck his cock, but I didn't like him. I was clearly overpowered. With a futile feeling mixed with desire, I complied with open mouth and forward tongue, and he inserted. I started going down the length of his shaft expecting to reach his pubic hair like I always did with Steve, but halfway down, there was no more room. I had to pull back to prevent from gagging. He expected this, pulling out and rubbing a mixture of saliva and pre-cum on my lips, chin, and cheek. He then ran his whole shaft along this slick pathway, then back again, next down into the mouth and out again, then along my mouth, chin, and cheek again. Back to the mouth.
"Now, who's the queer? I'm just giving you what you want." Tom said. I couldn't deny.
As he repeated the cock serving process, he told me to use my tongue, licking while sucking on the way in and out, and sticking my tongue out for the whole-shaft glide motion.
"You'd better use more spit." Tom reminded me. I couldn't figure out what he meant, but decided I'd better comply.
After about ten minutes of this, I had his cock good and wet. He told me to stand up and walk toward the table. To do this, I had to reach down and pull off my shoe, try to find the end of my pantleg, and grab it or stand on it to lift my leg and foot out of the pant. By the time I was bending for the other leg, Tom had a firm grasp on my tight, round ass, working his thumb on my hole. As we approached the table, Tom grabbed a wooden chair and put the back of it in front of me.
"Put your legs apart and bend over the back of the chair, hands on the seat." Tom instructed.
As I complied, I realized that I couldn't reach the seat without putting the chair back firmly against the top of my pubic hair. My exposed, white ass glowed in the air as my tan body faded into the darkness. Spreading my legs opened my crack. I was beginning to realize where his cock was going to go.
"Bend your knees together and put your elbows on the seat."
To do this, all of my weight was off my legs, shifted onto my pubes on the chairback and my elbows on the seat. Bending my knees together opened my hole, ass high with head and legs low. The exposure and realization of what could happen was making me nervous. Tom started rubbing his cock on my crack, transferring the wetness of his whole shaft onto my hole. "Was this going to be it? Just rubbing it on my crack?" I hoped. Then he stood back.
Just as I suspected, his long cock couldn't get a straight-up erection like mine, instead it stuck straight out, the end turned up slightly. In the position I was in, it didn't matter; Tom didn't need a straight-up erection. I felt his head press against my hole, then push in. "Oh man, his cock is entering my ass! How is this going to work?" I thought as I felt an inch or two of opening. I started feeling pain and couldn't take anymore. Tom obviously had done this before. He knew what to do. He waited for me to relax, pulled back an inch, then inserted two and I felt myself opening to three inches. He may not have had a straight up erection, but that did not mean he wasn't hard as a bone. Pulling back an inch, and inserting two more, I opened further, and now had 4 inches of cock up my ass. I grabbed the chair in pain. Tom pulled back, then in again, and I was opened to 5 inches. I now had about half his cock up my ass. How was I going to take the rest!? He pulled back again, and as he went for 6, I didn't feel I was being opened anymore, just penetrated deep. Back...7. The pain was fading, the penetration deeper. Back...8, more penetration as the pain increased, then faded as he pulled back...9. That was all the cock I could take, then back. I was in a sweat, pleading incoherently for him to stop,
"plea..st...pleas...tp."
"Please?" Tom confirmed, "See I knew you liked cock." With that he pulled back to 6, then thrust to 9. All I could make out was, "Ohw."
"Oh yeah?" said Tom as he started a rhythm, 6...9...6...9...6...9. I said "oh" with a sigh on each 9. The pain started to subside giving way to pleasure. Tom sensed this and reached around my chest, grabbing my nipples and twisting. I felt a new pain, but it also delivered a "take me" pleasure. Tom added a few more pain-pleasure thrusts up my ass to go along, then pulled back to 3. I felt empty, wanting more.
"You look disappointed! Do you want more?"
I nodded a yes. He bent me down then worked to 5, 7, then 6...9...6...9.
"Yeah, you like getting fucked. You're such a pussy. You're even having your period."
I must have been opened too much, but with that, the fucking started 5...9...5...9, then 4...9...4...9. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. Oh fuck, who was going to see this? Just then, Steve's brother Bill topped the stairs.
"Bill, have a seat!" Tom invited. Bill started disrobing.
Bill spread his knees around the back of the chair and sat facing me, his straight up cock at my nose. He grabbed my head and placed my mouth over his tip, then pushed me on. With a few lifts of the head as instructions, I started bobbing my head up and down. I was sucking Bill's 6 incher while getting royally fucked up the ass. Tom continued 5...9...5...9 faster. Then 7...10...7...10. Slowly and deeply, but at least I finally felt his balls against my crack. He was giving me all he had...6...10...6...10. Faster then, 5...10. 5...10. 4...10. He stopped as I felt my ass filling with cum, then 6...10 stop. More cum. Then Bill started to unload in my mouth, while my ass took another 6...10 stop. Bill only shot three times, most of his cum emptying out of my downward-facing mouth, running along the shaft into his pubic hair. I obviously hadn't finished him. 6...10 stop. 6...10 stop. Tom was done, breathing hard. Bill didn't feel completely satisfied, so he stood up as Tom pulled out and went back to replace him. Tom sat on the couch stroking as Bill fucked me. After Tom, Bill's 6 inches was easier to take. He fucked faster though, grabbing my hips for more force as he thrust in and out. As he unloaded, I heard more footsteps. It was Steve.
"Et tu, Brute?" was all I could think. Steve disrobed and I opened to give him a blowjob, but Bill was finished and pulled out of my ass. Steve walked past my open mouth, and took up the position around back. His 4 inches was nothing to take, but it was one thing to get fucked by someone your own age, and another, even a little disgraceful, to be over a chair getting it from someone a year younger. After Steve unloaded, the others left laughing in self satisfaction. I was hurt, and worse, I hadn't cum. Steve came up to me and apologized. Turned out Tom had pressed Bill about our goings-on in the boathouse, so they both beat the truth out of Steve, then made him comply with the setup.
"Why did you fuck my ass like the rest of them, then?" I demanded.
"I had to, it was so tight, round, and exposed. I always wanted your ass." With that, he laid me back on the couch and gave me the most sensual blow job I've ever had. It wasn't enough. Now that I was well lubed with his saliva and my first cum, I rolled him over on the couch and spread his legs, arching his tight, little white ass in the air as I climbed on top of his bronze back. He braced not sure if he wanted it as I inserted and slowly started fucking him. Chest against his warm back, I turned his head to look up at me. I inserted my tongue into his mouth to silence his doubts, licking his lips while I slowly rocked back and forth, fucking his tight, round boy bubble into submission. After my release, we fell asleep on the couch in each others arms, to the sound of the waves lapping against the garage door.
comments and suggestions are welcome and you can e-mail them to MarianasDeep@hotmail.com
Other stories by this author include: Seduced after School (posted to Young Friends, 8/19/04) College Visit (posted to Adult/Youth, 9/06/04)