TKD Traveling Team
Chapter 5
By Matt
**This story is substantially true, and based on events in my own life. All names and locations, as well as certain tell-tale details, have been changed to provide anonymity for the people involved.
This story involves consenting sex between underage persons of both sexes. If this type of material is illegal where you live, leave now. If this is not the type of material you're looking for and want to read, leave now.**
James' cock continued to soften as he gasped from the intensity of his second orgasm. After a few seconds he looked down at me with a big smile and said, "That was the best. Thanks, Matt."
Feeling like a bit of an asshole, I replied, "It wasn't a lot of fun for me, James."
He looked down at me quizzically. I was again endeared of his boyish innocence and earnestness- he was so chaste, so caught up in the power of the sensation he had felt, that he hadn't even noticed his roughness.
"You were awfully rough, James. I let it go on, because I'm not fragile, and because it's your first time and I want it to be special for you. But if you want a repeat of the experience, from me or anyone else, you might want to be a bit more...considerate."
James' face screwed up in a look of guilt and apology, and I kissed him quickly. "I'm not mad. I just wanted you to know, that's all."
As I spoke my crotch pressed against his leg, and he felt my still-raging hard-on. He reached down and grabbed it gently, and I grunted. James blushed. "Let me, uh, see if I can, um, help you out with that." He was obviously trying to play it cool, but the stuttering sort of destroyed the effect.
He gripped my cock harder through my shorts, and I involuntarily thrust towards him. Letting go, he reached inside the front of my pants, fumbling with my boxers a bit, then had his hand on my hard cock. I was so hot I almost blew it right there.
His other hand joined, and he used them to peel my shorts and boxers down my legs. My engorged cock caught in the waistband and was bent down; as it popped loose it slapped hard against my belly and then pointed straight out at a 60 degree angle, too hard to even quiver.
James left my pants down around my knees, then pushed me onto my back. He gripped my cock in his right hand, squeezing it firmly, causing my cockhead to swell and the skin to become purple and shiny. He seemed very curious, feeling all around it, running his soft fingers over the helmet, lingering on the ring separating the head from the shaft. He traced the line of my circumcision scar all the way around, an amazingly erotic sensation. Moving down the shaft to the base, he toyed with my thick, dark pubic hair, gently combing and pulling at it. Finally he cupped my balls, which were already drawn up to the base of my cock, gently hefting them as if in appreciation of the weight.
He scooted down the bed, then straddled my legs at the knees. He lowered his head to my crotch, inhaling deeply and then sniffing. He opened his mouth, and then looked up at me. "I...I really don't know how to do this."
I thought about saying some bullshit about how he didn't have to if he didn't want to. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the hard cock won out over the conscience. "The most important thing is to watch your teeth. They hurt when they scrape. Use a lot of spit. Then just try licking and sucking...you'll figure it out."
He looked at me for a moment, assimilating the information. Then, abruptly, as if he had made a decision in the intervening moments, he leaned over, opening his mouth as wide as he could. He engulfed my hard cock, taking the head and perhaps two inches of my shaft. His tongue lay hotly against the bottom of my shaft, on the loose, soft skin just where the head joined the shaft. When he moved his tongue I thought I would cum right there.
I desperately, barely held back the urge to grab his head and start fucking his mouth the same way he'd done to me. Fortunately he started going down on me more aggressively, licking the head, and suckling the shaft as he drew up. He quickly got the idea; it wasn't the most amazing blow job in terms of technique, but it was certainly good enough.
I managed to hold off for about two minutes. I felt cum boiling in my balls, ready to shoot out of my hard cock. It occurred to me that even if James thought he wanted to take my load, it would be a very unpleasant experience for him, especially since it felt like the largest load I had blown in quite a while. I sat up, my abs rippling with effort, and grabbed James under his arms, pulling him off my cock and up my body so that my cock was situated right between his budding pecs. I held him tightly, humping my saliva- wet cock along the smooth skin of his sternum, and then erupted. I felt as if I was blowing my guts out with my cum, as if all the contents of my body were trying to empty themselves through the small, pleasurable hole in my hard-on. The first three or four spurts leaped up and hit James in the underside of his chin and neck; the rest coated his chest and my belly and crotch, creating a sensation which was both sticky and smooth.
I came down slowly, feeling my rock hard cock soften as James lay on it quietly. Eventually he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, crawling up to lie next to me. He embraced me and nuzzled in my hair, and I felt a deep sense of contentment and satisfaction.
I don't know how long we lay like that. It couldn't have been long, as the cum on my stomach was still liquid. I turned to James, smiling. "Looks like we could both use another shower. It's right over this way," I said, kicking myself up off the bed.
There was a full bath right next to my bedroom on the top floor. My parents used the one on the bottom floor, next to their bedroom. So mine was cluttered with all the various things I used- my toothbrush and paste, my soap and shampoo, my deodorant, my hairbrush. Like my bedroom, this place felt MINE in a way that nowhere else in the world did.
James and I were both deliciously naked already, and we stepped into the bathroom together. As we did, I got my first look at James in his entirety.
I had seen bits and pieces before, flashes of crotch and ass, bits of chest and stomach, but found that looking at the whole gestalt was a different matter. His head, with it fuzz of crew-cut auburn hair and the Irish face I have already described, sat atop a thin but sinewy neck- cords of muscle snaked their way from collarbones to jaw, and I could see the wandering paths of his jugular veins tracing their way just under the skin.
His trapezius muscles flared out at the base of his neck, sloping smoothly down to the points of his shoulders. He was dotted liberally with freckles from the summer sun- he was probably starting to spend a lot of time outside with his shirt off, like me. Wandering down his arm, one came upon bulging, cut biceps and triceps, the first of his boyish muscles to really develop. His forearms were still skinny, and they ended in thin wrists and long fingers with neatly trimmed nails.
His chest was still flat and boyish- his pecs had just started to mound up, and the skin was tight enough on them that you could see individual bundles of muscles attaching to his breast bone. His ribs were just visible through the skin- I would later run my hands down them, loving the xylophone rattle of them. His stomach was perfectly flat, showing a little hint of a fast-developing six-pack. A small umbilicus, perfectly flush with the rest of his stomach, made a small knot in the otherwise smooth surface. His hips flared boyishly, the wings of his pelvis pressing against his skin and forming a triangle which cradled his boyish treasures. And what treasures they were. His cock (I was seeing it soft for the first time) was perhaps two inches long soft, and the width of my middle finger. It hung below a bare fringe of red pubic hair, which swooped and curled up on either side of his cock, giving the appearance of wings or horns. His ball sack, still hairless and only just beginning to darken, hung just below the end of his prick. I would later feel them and find that his balls were about the size of large olives. His legs were still thin and essentially undefined, thin pipes which tapered down to lanky knees, thinly muscled calves, and bony ankles, then size 8 feet, veiny arches flowing down into ten perfect toes. As I've said before, he was not completely boyish nor was he yet the hot, hard-bodied stud he would later grow into...he was a cute teenager, and his body was just on the cusp of manhood. It was intensely erotic, in a way that I had never been exposed to before. Looking back, I wonder why we didn't shower together. I didn't even think of it, and in retrospect I had pushed James so far that day that it didn't seem like a wise idea to go farther. I waited in the bathroom, basking in a continuing afterglow, and listening with fondness to James washing himself. It's not precisely erotic to listen to someone showering- but it is sensuous; it make one feel intimate with them, close to them in a way that watching them shower does not. I passed James a towel as he stepped out, delaying just a moment so I could once again admire his body. Then I stepped in, quickly washing the mingled evidence of our respective orgasms away. I would have liked to stay in there, luxuriating in the hot water, but I didn't want to keep James waiting. I stepped out, dried, and stepped back into my bedroom with the towel wrapped around my waist.
I looked at the clock- only ten, though it seemed as if the sun should be dawning after all that had happened. I noticed James sitting bolt upright on the bed, looking pale.
"James? What's up?"
He turned on me, hectic spots of color flaming on his cheeks. "What am I going to wear home? How am I going to explain my clothes to my mom?" His voice held a note of panic.
I thought for a moment. "Well, James, looks like you're fucked." His eyes went wide, and I continued, chuckling. "Just kidding. Let's see...a can of Coke exploded when you opened it, and it sprayed stuff all over and got you totally soaked. I offered you some of my clothes and started washing yours so they wouldn't stain. How does that sound?"
James breathed a little easier. I gave him a pair of my boxers, which wouldn't stay on his slim waist- in the end he decided to go without. A pair of my cargo shorts and a belt hung loosely off his skinny hips, and one of my tank tops hung on him like a tent, enormous arm holes giving anyone who wanted one a free show. Fortunately his socks and shoes were OK. I dumped our sex-stained clothes in the washer, along with my extremely messy sheets, starting it up.
We ate leftover spaghetti from the fridge, and sat next to each other on the couch downstairs, watching some silly sitcom. I put an arm around him from the side- at first he was stiff, not comfortable despite what we had just shared, but he eventually relaxed, until we were relaxed against each other from legs to shoulders. I idly stroked his hair and gently nuzzled him, feeling him relax until he was asleep.
We remained like that for fifteen precious minutes, completely relaxed in each other's presence, no barriers between us. Then the phone rang, disturbingly loud. James jerked awake, blinking groggily and shaking his head. I got up to get the phone. It was five minutes before eleven.
James' mother was on the other end, sounding slightly frantic, but she quickly relaxed when I told her that I'd have him home in five minutes. I also told her that he'd spilled some Coke on himself as we ate, and had had to borrow some of my clothes, and that of course I didn't mind, we'd be seeing each other between classes tomorrow, where he could give them back to me and I could give his back to him. She said she'd be waiting for us.
James was fully awake by this time. The nap had done him some good- he no longer looked as jumpy as he had. I hugged him easily again, and he returned the embrace warmly. "Let's grab your stuff and get you home."
Sitting once again in my embarrassment of a car, we drove in relative silence most of the way to his house. About two blocks away I asked, "So? What do you think?"
James smiled. "It was fun. Can we do it again some time? I'll have to come up with something to tell my mom, but..."
"Sure. I've got some other people to introduce you to, as well." I was thinking of Veronique- it was obvious that James was not purely gay, or else he wouldn't have been so aroused by the relatively tame stripper scene in the movie. I thought that introducing him to Veronique, who was both beautiful and as uninhibited as her sister, would be good for him. I paused momentarily. "James, I want you to know that whatever happens- with the sex and all of that, I mean- I want us to stay friends."
James reached over and laid his hand over mine on the steering wheel, a gesture which was unmistakably "Yes."
His mom came out to meet us at the car as we pulled his stuff out of the hatch. She asked the usual questions, and thanked me profusely. I said it was no trouble, which wasn't precisely true- I didn't have school, but my uncle would be expecting me at 6:00 the next morning. On the other hand, I couldn't exactly complain about the lost sleep, given what I had been filling that time with.
I told James I'd see him tomorrow at class, and give him his clothes back (it gave me a secret thrill to say that, with his mother standing right there). I said a cordial goodbye to his mother, then headed back home to crash. A new day awaited tomorrow.
Thanks to those who have e-mailed.it's good to hear from you, even if I don't respond sometimes. Please remember that I will ignore all requests for personal information of any sort. Downward_Dog1@yahoo.com