I rolled a condom onto Paul's thick, cut cock, and wondered what it would feel like inside me. It definitely wasn't the same fifteen year old cock that I'd been used to. And it had never been anywhere except in my mouth or fist.
South Africa
Part 5
Once my boner was sheathed, I leaned back, and raised my legs. First, he lubed my six and a half, then inserted a finger into my hole, followed by a second, until my ass muscles had been relaxed. They were about the only things that were relaxed. The rest of me was apprehensive. I could see it happening, and feel it happening, but it was all so surreal that it was like watching the impossible being turned into reality right before my very eyes.
When he was ready, I pulled back my legs, an action which automatically raised my ass. He positioned the head of his fat teen meat at the entrance, then slowly pushed. At first, it felt as though his swollen head was gonna tear my hole open, but he was so damn nervous and slow, I thought he was never gonna get the damn thing all the way in.
After a while, though, he started to get into a rhythm. He was panting like a fucking steam train with each thrust, and had an intense look of pleasure on his handsome face. Meantime, his rock-hard boner was pressing against my prostate, and driving me totally crazy. Just before he offloaded, I felt his pulsating monster become even thicker inside me, then fill me with the warmth of his exploding juice.
After his entire weight had collapsed exhausted on top of me, we stayed wrapped in each other's arms for ages, while his cock remained inside me.
"Hey," he finally whispered, "can we go to sleep like this?"
"Only if you take the condom off."
"You know I wouldn't do that."
"Lemme clean you."
Once he'd withdrawn his semi from my ass, I removed the condom, then licked and sucked his cock clean. After that, the two of us stayed awake for about an hour, talking about what had just happened.
"Was it as good as what you'd fantasized?" I asked.
"Better. Much better. Totally awesome. But there were times when I was fucking you that it seemed as though I was dreaming. I had to keep looking at the expression on your face to believe it was real."
"What did I look like?"
"You were biting your lip," he smiled. "What did it feel like?"
"Totally fucking wicked. I had to keep looking at your face, too, to believe that it was really you who was inside me. My mind kept saying, "It's happening! It's happening! It's really happening!""
"Mine, too."
The next sound I heard was Wingnut's voice in the morning after he'd ripped the covers off my bed.
"Hey! You guys still sleeping? Surf's up! Oops! So's Paul's dick."
Paul slowly stirred into life. He'd come to know Wingnut's cheeky ways, so it was no surprise to me that Paul had decided to play the grommet's game. "Like it?"
"It's a cool dick, but not as cool as mine."
"Yeah, right. Be honest Wingnut. You wish you had a dick like this one."
"Crapperoo!" Wingnut unzipped his boardies, and produced his semi. "Check this out!"
"Not bad, but…"
"But what?"
"Tiny."
"CRAP!"
"Want me to suck it bigger?"
Both Wingnut and I heard the words, but couldn't believe that Paul had actually said them.
"Any time," the grommet grinned, calling Paul's bluff.
"So drop your boardies and lay on the bed."
The grin was instantly wiped from Wingnut's face. "I was kidding."
"I'm not… unless you're chicken."
"I'm not chicken," Wingnut answered defiantly.
"So?"
The grommet studied Paul's face for a moment, then quizzed mine. His mind was obviously racing, trying to fathom what was happening. On the other hand, he had a point to prove… that he wasn't chicken. He dropped his shorts, then laid on the bed. By then, his cock had hardened.
Meantime, I was torn between my instinct to stop Paul from going any further, and an irresistible curiosity to see what would happen. Besides that, I was as horny as a rattlesnake at the sight of my little bro's woody just waiting to be eaten.
Wingnut was laying on his back with his eyes closed as Paul lifted the woody off the grommet's stomach, and slid his lips over the swollen cockhead.
"Oh, my fuck!" was the only response the grommet could manage as Paul's lips rode the length of his shaft, which was glistening with spit.
Wingnut was hooked completely. His total focus was on his groin, and the intense pleasure he was getting from being blown. He arched his back in an aggressive effort to send his boner deeper into Paul's mouth. Paul, meantime, was using one hand to massage my little bro's nads as he continued to suck, and use his tongue to electrify the sensitive knob of my young bud's woody. If there was one thing Paul knew how to do extremely well, it was to give incredibly awesome head.
Finally, Wingnut let out a scream as he jetted a bucket of grommet juice into Paul's mouth. I watched Paul continue to suck and swallow until every drop of Wingnut's thick, sticky prize had been consumed.
Wingnut's woody was still rock-hard even after Paul had taken it out of his mouth. Paul studied it for a second, then smiled. "So, now it looks like a dick."
"Oh, fuck! That was awesome, Paul."
During our walk down to the beach, I managed to get a moment alone with Paul after Wingnut had sprinted ahead. "Was that such a fucking great idea?"
"What? Blowing Wingnut?"
"Yeah."
"He wants you to do that, too."
"Bullshit! What is he supposed to think?"
"Hey? Does it look like he's fazed out? Chill, Kyle."
Saturday night, we all went to Corners. Steve, Tammy, Mark, Carol, Steph, Paul, and myself. It was a cool rave, and we didn't get too trashed. Well….
Mark slept over, and had gotten to a stage where he was beyond being shy in front of Paul. That really amazed me. In less than a week, Paul had had an incredible influence on Mark… much more than I'd accomplished in over a year. There was something extraordinarily influential about Paul. He could somehow mine the depths of your mind, find fantasies that you'd kept hidden for ever, then convince you that they were totally cool. He had a way of reading you like nobody else could. At the same time, he wasn't fazed by what he'd discovered about you. He made you feel comfortable with yourself, and made you feel comfortable with him. He was psychic. And he'd proved that by blowing Wingnut in the most fucking casual way, as if he'd known all along that Wingnut wouldn't, or couldn't, resist. Awesome!
Anyway, having Mark sleep over kinda limited Paul's and my activities that night. Mark was cool, but not that cool! Jeez!
On Sunday, Mark had to work a shift at the pizza restaurant, so Paul and I went to Ratanga Junction, a theme park. It was a total rave. The best ride was the Cobra, a wicked 100-kilometer long, looping roller coaster. Passengers were seated on benches suspended beneath the rail, so it felt like you were hanging free as you zapped along at a squillion miles an hour. By the time we got off the damn thing, our heads were still spinning and we didn't have a fucking clue which way was up.
That night, we went to the pizza restaurant to terrorize Mark. Everyone was there, and by that stage, Wingnut was fully into dissing Paul, which was hilarious to watch. My little bro just couldn't help himself when it came to testing people. And even if he got himself into deep shit, he'd eagerly come back for more. By the same token, his cheeky ways endeared him to other people. They couldn't help admiring his spunk, as well as his teasing, elfin grin.
After arriving home, Paul and I fucked each other again. I'd wanted to do it without wearing condoms, but Paul didn't wanna hear about that. The second time around, there were no illusions about what was happening. No questions or doubts about it being a dream. It was totally fucking real.
All of Monday we surfed, and that night, my folks had organized a huge farewell barbecue for Paul. We'd invited everbody who'd been to my birthday party. Paul had managed to extend his stay until the Tuesday.
Ross, Darren and Paul had gotten heavily into a convo about the last hike up the mountain… the last hike Paul was on before he and his folks went to live in England. The rest of the group was rolling with laughter at hearing the stories.
"Hey, Darren," I asked. "Did you have a wet dream on the hike?"
"No," he glared. "Why?"
"Just wondered."
Paul was cracking up big time, 'cause I'd previously told him the story about how I'd jacked Darren in the tent while he was sound asleep next to me in his sleeping bag.
Paul and I didn't catch a wink of sleep that last night. We alternated between chatting and making love. And it was love. No doubt about that. We tried not to think about it being our last night together.
On the Tuesday, my folks drove us to the airport. Mark came with us. He'd become quite attached to Paul, and vice versa. We all tried our best to be cheery, but I was on the verge of tears during the whole damn trip. There was a lump in my throat the size of a fucking tennis ball. And when we got close to the airport, and I saw those silver things leaving their vapor trails behind them as they headed off to who knew where, I became incredibly heavy-hearted. How could my absolute joy at seeing Paul peel off the Mr B mask at my party just a week beforehand be turned into such terrible, heart-wrenching agony? How could the best friend I'd ever had, and who'd loved me in the most special way during his visit, be leaving me? Why was life doing this to me? And to him?
When that final and most dreadful moment arrived… the moment he was due to go through the passport control, I totally lost it. I hugged him so damn hard, I was somehow hoping that he wouldn't go. That he'd change his mind and stay. That I could hang on to him forever. But I knew that was impossible. His folks and friends were on the other side of the planet, waiting for him.
"Thanks for everything," I sobbed.
"Me, too. I love you, Kyle."
"I love you, Paul."
On the drive home, Mark hardly said a word. Apart from being aware of how I was feeling, I think he was feeling pretty sad, too.
Returning to an empty bedroom was just so fucking difficult. It was unreal how Paul's absence hit me like a sledgehammer as soon as I walked through the door. The finality of his departure was irrevocable. He was somewhere in the sky heading toward Heathrow, but his awesome smell was still on my pillow.
Wingnut slept over the next night, and asked the obvious question. "Hey, Kyle. Were you mad at Paul for blowing me?"
"Not mad… just worried about what you might think."
"About what?"
"About his coming on to you like that."
"Well, I think it was fucking neat! What were you thinking about me?"
"Just how awesome you are."
"You miss him, huh?"
"Yep." That three-letter word seemed totally inadequate. But how could I have explained to the grommet how deep my feelings were for Paul? It was impossible to explain. Totally impossible.
"Want me to jack you?"
I had to smile. Wingnut's simple answer to everything was jacking. But that was cool. The little guy had a heart of gold, even if he did get a kick outa dissing his buds. And, hey, who was I to refuse his offer?
After we'd jacked each other, we slept through a violent storm that almost blew the roof off the house. But I had my little bud with me. So it was cool.Hi B
Long time. Thanks for the e-mail that I got via Kyle. The holiday has been absolutely fantastic. The weather has been kind and it's been like mid-Summer here. I think we've tried to put as much into the time as possible. We've gone to all the old haunts, beach, mountain, surf, pizza joint, old school. Managed to do quite a bit of surfing as well and met up with a bunch of old friends in and out of the surf.
Kyle seems to have a good lot of friends at the moment. I like Mark. He's probably the most mature out of the bunch. His girlfriend, Carol, compliments him a lot. Little Wingnut reminds me a helluva lot of what Kyle used to be like, always putting his foot into it. He's a head turner and you can actually have quite a bit of fun just watching the young groupies reactions when he's on the beach. Kyle's girlfriend, Steph, is very neat and I think the two of them are going to build quite a good relationship. The plus for her is that she allows Kyle a lot of space, which is more than I can say for most of the girlfriends I've had. Steve is pretty cool except that he's got an ego. He's totally good-looking, with a body to match. The only problem is that he knows it. We get along okay though.
Kyle? He hasn't changed. I love him to bits. He still tastes the same too :>
As for the two of us. I think what I see in the future is probably both of us being married. But we will find the opportunities to get together and love each other much the same as we do now. I think it's important for people to express their love physically. I don't see him and myself as two guys, more like two people in love with our friendship. It's going to be very hard to leave but we're both realistic about it and I think this holiday has made us both realise that it's not forever.
I'm going to go and haul him out of the shower. He doesn't know that I'm sending this. After all, I have this anti net image to maintain :)
Thanks for everything you've done for him. I really appreciate it.
All the best
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