("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- My Weird Little Sex Life by The Gargoyle (thegarg0yle@hotmail.com) *** My entirely true erotic history, age 5 to 36, succinct, not indulgent, sometimes humorous, including: first time straight sex, first time gay sex and foot worship and public sex. (Mm, MF, ped, reluc, voy, feet) *** The following content is absolutely true. I've changed most of the names, both biographical and geographical, in attempt to safeguard my own anonymity. *** AGE 5 I got a thing for feet. Always have. This sounds ridiculous but I think it's got something to do with this: Socks and underwear. As a small child I saw some kind of connection between socks and underwear. I understood very clearly that the things behind your underwear were private. You weren't supposed to see the things behind other people's underwear nor were you supposed to expose the things beneath your own. Underwear formed an extra layer between your clothes and your body - between your pants and your really private parts. Socks also formed an extra layer - between your feet and your shoes. So I interpreted that your feet were also private. I think that's the source of the fetish. I remember in kindergarten - one day in gym class. There was a new kid in our class. He must have just moved to the neighborhood. He didn't have the proper gym attire. Now for crying out loud, we were five years old. How could one not have the proper gym attire? Shorts, T-shirts and sneakers were the standard issue for five-year olds. What the hell else would five-year olds wear to school? Okay so this kid might have been new to the country let alone our kindergarten class. The point is - He had these shiny black shoes that were right out of the question when it came to gym class. Therefore he went barefoot. Barefoot. I was stunned. His naked feet slapped against the gym floor as he ran around. He might as well have been running around with no pants or underwear as far as I was concerned. How could he dare expose himself like that? I would have fought to the bloody death before stripping my feet naked in front of a classroom of boys and girls. At this time in my life I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. I have an uncle only ten years my senior and at that time he was around 15 and had a bedroom in the basement of my grandparent's house. I spent many nights in his bed with him, in our pajamas. I remember one night we were horsing around on his bed and for a joke he grabbed my bare foot and stuck my toes in his mouth. Don't get me wrong. He's entirely straight. For him it was strictly a joke but I suppose it must have left a mark on me - for me to remember it to this day. I was already masturbating at this time. I started at age four. I guess that's a little precocious. I discovered it by humping a pillow in effort to suppress the urge to pee. For the next 13 years I got off strictly by humping pillows. Oddly I never thought to use my hand till I was 17. This practice of humping pillows - When I was very young I gave it the name "homework" of all things. Homework was a term I'd heard from my young uncle and aunt and I didn't really know what it meant, nor would I have known the term for pillow-humping so I guess I just threw the two things together. It would have seemed sensible enough to a four-or-five-year-old. One evening in my uncle's bedroom I wanted his attention - probably wanted him to play a game with me. But he, sitting at his desk explained, "I can't. I'm doing my homework." "Well then I'm gonna do my homework too," I declared and proceeded to climb onto his bed and grind myself silly against his pillow. He just looked at me a little strange and that's when I began to realize that my 'homework' wasn't necessarily fit for public performance. THREE APPROACHES The school where I attended kindergarten was quite close to our apartment - separated only by a large park and small wooded area. One evening my friends and I were playing in the park and one by one they were called home. I think there was a rule that I was to go home whenever the last of my friends were called home but on this evening I didn't. I decided to hang out all alone for a while just to be adventurous. The sun was setting. I heard a voice calling to me. It came from the dense coniferous trees on the other side of the steel 'frost' fence that bordered the park. I spied a boy - significantly older than myself - wedged between the trees and motioning me to come over. I obeyed - perhaps out of fear. I was generally shy and mistrusting of older boys - assuming they were mostly only interested in beating up younger boys. I approached cautiously, planning to run like hell if he started to climb the fence. I don't remember how the conversation started but he quickly brought it around to the subject of 'streaking'. I'd never heard that term before. He explained it meant taking off all of one's clothes and running around in public. He claimed he did it all the time and urged me to give it a try - right then and there. I was not comfortable with this and not at all keen to try. He offered incentives. He explained that there were great rewards for taking off my clothes - chocolate, cash, my very own TV for my bedroom. He said he'd been given all these things in return for stripping naked. I didn't believe him but was afraid to say so. He must have really wanted to see me naked because he tried for the longest time to convince me. I wanted him to leave me alone but was a bit scared to leave without his permission. It was growing dark. We heard my mother calling for me. He did some serious back-pedaling in a hurry. He told me that what streaking really meant was being a good boy and doing what my mother told me. Then he took off. The next day I told my friend Johnny about the encounter. He wasn't especially bright. At the mention of the chocolate, cash and TV he promptly stripped himself naked and began running laps around the parking lot. His mom showed up all of a sudden and gave him an earful and a whack on the ass. No cash or prizes. That was the first of three such propositions through my childhood. What can I say? I was a pretty cute kid. * Around the age of eight I met a new friend who's family had just immigrated from England. He became very popular because he had all kinds of toys that none of us had. He had an older brother that we never saw much of but one day he and I found ourselves alone together. He had a very cool bike - the envy of the neighborhood - basically the early version of the 'motocross' bicycle. He offered to 'double' me on it. I sat in front of him and we rode around the apartment complex for a while, then stopped and sat side by side on the slope of a hill. He asked me what I wanted to do and I had no suggestion. I had no idea why this older boy would take an interest in me. I do now. He suggested a game I'd never heard of before. He explained that one person would lie on their back while the second person would remove articles of the first person's clothing - one at a time - and have a peak at what lay beneath. I assumed the objective of the first person was to try to stop the second person. Not so, he explained. The first person was supposed to let it happen and simultaneously strip the second person. I didn't show a lot of interest in the idea and so he let it pass. Would-be molester number three was a little more aggressive. This occurred at about age 11. I met an older boy who lived across the street and a few doors down. Though we hardly spoke much we would always gravitate towards each other if I had no other friends about. We would just ride our bikes around together and speak very little. He never approached when I was with friends. It was a strange association. One day we left the suburban survey where we then lived and found ourselves at a tree-lined creek surrounded by fields of very tall grass. It was a popular place for my friends and I to play but he was a bit too old for that crowd. We dismounted from our bikes and walked alongside the creek for bit. The boy then told me that he wanted me to go lie down in the tall grass with him and that he wanted to take my clothes off. I said I wouldn't do that. He explained that no one would be able to see us and that he would strip too if that would make me feel more comfortable. I declined. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He threatened to throw my bike into the creek if I would not cooperate. He tried for a long time to convince me but I wouldn't budge. Finally he marched back to our bikes, took mine and disappeared into the trees. I crept along the opposite side of the creek and spied on him. He found a place where the creek was wide and shallow. He carefully descended the steep bank and placed the bike on a little 'island' of sand. I was much smaller than him and didn't know if I'd be able to get the bike back up that bank on my own. I sneaked back to where we'd last talked and he met me there. I played dumb and asked for my bike back. He lied. He said it was submerged and that I wouldn't find it. He would only relocate it and give it back after I got naked with him. He tried at length but couldn't convince me. Finally he returned to the bike and brought it back to me - safe and sound. He rode away and never approached me again. AGE 13 - 15 Shortly after this I was moved to a newly built bedroom in the basement of our house. This afforded plenty of privacy and I would stay up very late, often reading books or exploring sexual fantasies. I was still humping pillows at that time and I discovered that the mirror on my antique dresser could swivel up and down if I removed a pin in the back that was holding it in place. I would angle the mirror slightly down, climb on to my bed stark naked, chest down and looking forward at the mirror. I had a nice body - trim and toned. I liked to watch my naked butt (albeit at a sharp angle) as I humped away on the pillow. I explored fantasies of being accidentally or forcibly exposed to girls. I would take scissors and cut my underwear down to almost nothing. I'd wear only that and incorporate it into my exposure fantasies. Sometimes I would turn out the lights, open my curtains and sit naked on the deep window sill, parallel to the window with my bare butt and feet on the cool ledge, arms around my knees. There was a streetlight right in front of the house and I was pretty sure I was visible from outside, not that anyone would likely be looking in my direction. Being a basement room the window was right at ground level. Several nights I got really gutsy and opened the window and climbed outside stark naked. I never went further then our front lawn. Unfortunately it was a storm window and I couldn't figure out how to re-attach the screen once it was off. Eventually my parents discovered what I'd done to the window and gave me shit for it. I claimed I'd broken into the house when I'd forgot my key. They re- installed the screen and I never pulled that stunt again. The street that ran behind our house parallel to our street was at a higher elevation than ours so the lots that backed on to ours were higher, their houses were higher and thus the fence between afforded lots of privacy to their yards and almost none to ours. One afternoon I went into the backyard shirtless to talk to my mom who was sitting in a lounge chair reading a magazine. She glanced at the house behind ours and smiled and said, "Did you know there's a girl staring out the window at you?" I hadn't known but it was kind of flattering. * An older widowed British woman lived next door and I would cut her grass and sometimes clean her pool. My family was welcomed to use the pool whenever she wasn't home. The first time my folks let me use it unattended I got a little adventurous. I untied the string on my bathing suit and began diving into the pool, climbing out and diving over and over again. Each time I dove the suit would pull down a bit by the force of hitting the water but I would never adjust it. Eventually it was half way down my hips and my dick and ass were both half-visible. I wouldn't even look at the windows of the houses behind, not wanting to know for sure if anyone was watching or not. On the next dive the suit came completely off and I continued naked for a while. I was excited and scared at the same time. My friend Steve Edison was a year younger than me. He was a bit of a pervert and quite likely gay or possibly bisexual. I haven't seen him since high school. He and his brother would have friends over for little skinny dipping parties. His parents consented to these events and would check on us periodically. It was usually his mother who would pop out the back door without warning and she caught many glimpses of myself and other naked adolescent boys this way. It was kind of funny at the time and didn't concern me much. They also hosted many sleepovers. We'd bed down in sleeping bags in the basement rec-room during cold months and in the summer we'd tent it in the back yard. Steve made it clear that the Edison's bed-time ritual must be observed by their guests. When Steve and his brother were ready for bed they would always go downstairs and kiss their mother goodnight. I assume this was usually done in pajamas. During sleepovers we all slept in our underwear because that was the 'cool' thing to do. So before bed Steve would insist that we all strip to our underwear and parade to the living room or kitchen and present our half-naked selves to his mother for good-night kisses. It seemed harmless enough at the time but in hindsight seems a little suspect, doesn't it? AGE 16-17 We started hanging out with a group of girls our age and some couples were formed. Two of the girls, Monique and Krista were quite interested in me but I had a pretty good sense by this time that girls weren't exactly my cup of tea - at least - they weren't as interesting to me as boys were. One evening a friend's parents were out and we were sitting around their kitchen table playing cards. Monique, sitting directly across from me raised her leg and rested her foot on my chair between my legs. In no time she was grinding her toes against my crotch. I let her do it for a while but I wouldn't sleep with her despite her repeated hints. We boys were skinny-dipping at the Edison's one night when we heard the girls show up at the side gate. We all scrambled into our suits and climbed out of the pool to greet them. They were quite brazen, suggesting that we remove our suits and go back to what we were doing. We said we'd skinny dip if they would. They wouldn't but made it quite clear that they'd like to watch us at it. They became quite adamant that we should strip off and 'just pretend they weren't there' but it never happened. Krista stood next to me and put her arm around my waist. I wasn't interested in her but didn't mind the contact. Her fingers began to wander around my lower back and then down to the waistband of my wet shorts. Eventually she slipped below the waistband and cupped the upper half of my right butt cheek, her fingers almost imperceptibly caressing my ass. That's as far as it went. Mr. and Mrs. Edison were out of town that weekend. We boys stayed overnight. There was some very underage drinking going on and a very cute boy named Kevin ended up in just his underwear and got very friendly and cuddly with everyone - boys and girls alike. The next morning we were back in the pool when the girls showed up again. We weren't naked but Kevin was still in just his 'tighty whitey' underwear which by this time had become ripped in various places and were soaking wet from the pool. The girls had a hay-day with this, grabbing his undies at every opportunity and shredding them more. He couldn't have cared less and I found it all very arousing. Half his adorable little ass was showing as were his testicles for the most part and occasionally - depending on the angle - his dick. I was praying one of the girls would just rip the damn things off him but no such luck. I lost touch with Kevin shortly after that and then heard that he had died while still in his teens. Some rare cancer or leukemia or something. He was such a sweet kid. Too sad. OLD MACDONALD I was taking a photography class in grade ten and one Saturday I biked up a 200-foot ridge (locally referred to as 'the mountain') and went to a park that offered a grand view of the city. I snapped some pictures and strolled through the flower gardens. I noticed that a woman about my mother's age seemed to always be in the area and kept looking at me. I sat on a bench overlooking the view and looked through the camera, fiddling with the aperture, shutter speed and focus settings. I sensed someone taking a seat beside me. It was the woman. She started up a conversation. She asked about my interest in photography and school in general. Her name was Marilyn MacDonald (her real name by the way) and she turned out to be a high school teacher but at a different school than mine. She told me how she'd married a farmer's son at an early age and they were still together with two kids - on a farm of their own in a rural community about a half-hour away. Apparently her husband was a little older and had had his eye on her for a while before her parents allowed her to date. She explained that she had never dated or "been with" anyone but him. This subtle reference to sex gave me a pretty good idea where all this was going and even though I was pretty sure I was gay I wasn't sure if I might be bisexual and wasn't entirely against the idea of finding out. She confessed that some of her own students had started to catch her eye. This didn't shock me. I had a female math teacher in a class where I sat in the front row. Whenever I wore shorts I would repeatedly catch her looking at my legs. Marilyn asked if I had a girlfriend and smiled when I said no. She told me that her husband felt bad that as a teenager she had never experienced sex with anyone but him and that he now invited her to do so - but not with a full-grown man. He wanted to be her only man but she could have sex with a teenager if she wanted and suggested that she find a virgin to educate in the ways of sex. She said I was cute and asked had I had sex before. She was pleased when I confessed that I hadn't. Was I interested in getting together with her some time, she wanted to know. I said quite possibly, and she gave me her number. After we'd said good-byes and she left, I watched her walk across the parking lot to the far side and climb into a pick-up truck. I turned back to the view and listened as the truck pulled up to the near side of the lot and parked again. Moments later I felt her hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to get together now?" she asked. "Will you come home with me?" I did. On the ride to her farm she assured me that we would be alone. She told me that she'd been looking for a young man for some time and that she'd placed an ad in a newspaper. It garnished just one reply but the 18- year-old had declined at the last moment. We arrived at the farmhouse and sat in the living room, me on the couch. It didn't take long for things to heat up. She started to undress and I started to do likewise but she asked me to wait. She wanted to do that for me. In just her bra and panties she came to me and lifted my tee shirt off. I raised my ass so she could take my shorts down. She removed my socks. I kept hearing creaking noises as she stripped me and I asked her more than once - was she sure we were alone in the house. There was no other vehicle in the lane-way but there was a garage and the door was shut. She assured me more than once that we were alone and next thing I knew her hand was inside my underwear playing with my dick. I marveled at the new sensation. I thought I should reciprocate so I touched her breasts and she reached behind her to remove her bra. Off came my underwear, then hers. My dick was finally hard. I was hoping she'd suck it but she never did. She lay back on the couch and guided me inside. No condom. It was the wettest damn place I'd ever been. There was just so little friction I wondered how I'd get off. This didn't compare to a pillow at all. "I'm sorry I'm so wet!" she actually said to me. We went at it for a while. She continually ran her hands along my back and ass which felt good. I just wished there was more friction. I don't know if it was a sixth sense or what but suddenly I was absolutely positive we were not alone. I pulled out. "Someone's in the house!" I insisted. She held on to me like she was afraid I'd bolt. "It's okay," she said. "It's just my husband." I looked around wildly and there he was. I saw his head pulling back behind the corner of the hallway. "Come out," she told him. "It's okay," she said to me. "He just wants to watch. He won't touch you!" My dick was softening quickly. This had become awfully weird all of a sudden. Her husband walked over and introduced himself. He knew my name already. He'd been listening to us the whole time. Here I was naked on my knees, straddling his wife on his couch. He shook my hand while his wife was shaking my dick, trying to keep it alive. I was sure I couldn't go on at this point. He scooped up my clothes from the floor, haphazardly folding them and placing them on the coffee table. He complimented me on my body and urged us to continue while he took a seat and watched. I realized at this time that his motives were not entirely unselfish. He was clearly getting something out of this. We rutted some more, working up a good sweat. I got over the creepiness and started to get turned on at the idea of an audience. It took forever to come but I did. She didn't as far as I recall. The husband had taken my shorts and undies in the meantime and they were now in his hands on his lap. I don't know if he'd sniffed them or what. Marilyn donned her panties and put on MY tee shirt. It was snug on her and I was a little irritated. I wanted to get dressed but they had confiscated everything but my socks. It was strange to be sitting around completely naked with two clothed adults while the wife sat beside me and continued to fondle my body. We talked for a while. The husband repeated many of the things she'd already told me. They'd got their story straight, true or not. Eventually they surrendered my clothes, watched me dress and drove me back to the park, me sitting between them in the truck. They made me promise to call them but I didn't. I was shocked one day when my mother answered the phone, passed it to me and it was Marilyn. I can only surmise that I had some kind of ID in my shorts and that's how they were able to look up our number. This pissed me off because now I had to come up with some story when my mother demanded to know who Marilyn was. They really wanted to hook up again but I never did. That's the only time I've ever had my dick in a woman. I'm 36 now and I sometimes wonder if I've got a 20-year old son or daughter somewhere! HIGH SCHOOL While my encounter with Mrs. MacDonald and her voyeuristic husband convinced me that my preference indeed leaned to the gay side I still figured I'd lead a straight life. I had no intention of coming out of the closet to anyone because I saw no advantage to it. Then I met Daryl. He was in the grade below me but was in my second semester English class because he was fast-tracking through high-school. That is - he was building a 5-year diploma in just 4 years. Daryl was the first boy I found myself significantly attracted to. He was somewhat 'preppy' and often wore deck shoes to school without socks. During class he would sometimes slip his shoes off and I had a hard time concentrating on class and not eyeing his feet. The attraction was strong enough that I came to realize that staying in the closet might not be an option. How could one make love to girls knowing that such strong desires existed that could only be satisfied by boys? The matter was sealed when the second object of my affection came along. Very oddly that was none other than Kyle, Daryl's close friend - also a year younger than I. The three of us were not only in the same English class (the only class I would ever share with either of them) but we also were in the same work- group. Our desks would be pushed together along with three other students whenever we did collaborative work. I was a decent student but my grades plummeted in this class. I was thoroughly head-over-heels infatuated with this miracle of a boy. Kyle was thin, rather shy and intensely beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Now I finally understood that my being gay would have to be reckoned with. I just couldn't keep my love for this boy a secret. It was burning a hole in my heart. Kyle had a twin brother (a theme in my life, it would come to seem) named Craig. They were physically almost identical. This worked out well for me because I loved Kyle too much to dishonor him by fantasizing about him sexually! So all my masturbatory fantasies revolved around Craig for the longest time. I would imagine kissing him from head to toe - especially the toes, and sucking his dick. I would orgasm quickly (I was using my hand finally) and then spend the next two hours hugging my pillow fiercely, pretending it was Kyle while I cried my eyes out. Rather pathetic I now realize. In my mind I had built Kyle up to be such a wonderful person that he would surely be understanding and sympathetic to my plight. So I chose him to come out of the closet to! This was a horrendous mistake. While I thought I could quietly reveal my undying love for him and receive a compassionate (and profoundly delicious) hug in response, instead it scared the shit out of him. I would then spend the next year and a half begging him to meet with me privately, intending that I would properly explain the situation and assure him that this whole mess was no big deal from his point of view. That it carried no threat or implication to his own heterosexual future. I promised to entirely disappear from his life after this private meeting. But all this he flatly rejected and in a fiasco of immaturity I declared that I'd given up on life and found myself in a psychiatrist's office. Dr. Blake was more messed up than I was. He made a career of counseling gay kids. He would always sit immediately beside me on the couch, regularly put his arm around me and always insisted on warm hugs before and after each session. His repeated advice was to get myself laid by a nice gay boy and then I would forget all about Kyle. I was certain Dr. Blake had no clue what he was talking about and suspected that perhaps HE should be paying ME for our sessions with all the groping going on. Dr. Blake, I'm sad to say, took his own life some time later, long after I had given up on our sessions having discovered the vastly superior benefits of support- group therapy. OUT My first evening at the gay support group offered me my first cognizant contact with other gays and lesbians. It was wonderfully liberating. After the meeting the group headed out to the local gay bar, as was their custom. I was underage so I started walking to the bus stop instead when one of the fellows came up behind me and invited me out for coffee. Paul was older, unattractive (in my judgment) and seemed a little slick in personality but being so eager to have someone to talk to, I went with him. We wound up at the apartment he shared with his dad and went straight to his bedroom, coffee apparently forgotten. He assured me rather pointedly that we would not be disturbed by his dad. I wasn't at all concerned about that and wondered why he hadn't introduced us (god, I was naive). We listened to music and talked. At one point he looked at my lap and said, "Nice basket! Want to have a picnic?" He then brandished some magazines of a quality I've never seen before or since. They contained extensive picture series of gorgeous teenagers (my age) stripping naked and jerking off for the camera. I was spellbound. Unfortunately my reverie was interrupted when Paul suddenly pressed his face to mine and snaked his tongue down my throat. A very unfortunate first-kiss I must say. I patiently waited for this to stop, regretfully put the magazine down and stood up to leave. He fell to his knees before me, reached for the button of my jeans and said, "May I?" "Not tonight," said I. "Let's wait till we get to know each other a bit better, okay?" He graciously stood and walked me to the bus stop. I had no intention of getting to know him better and avoided him at every future opportunity. I went home that night and in my room I fantasized about being one of the magazine boys. I stripped, imitated some of the poses I'd seen and jerked off. * At the next support group meeting I met two fellows, Danny and Pat. They were also new to the group and meeting each other for the first time. Afterwards the three of us went for coffee - at a real coffee shop - and became fast friends. I was the glue that brought us together though I didn't yet realize it. I would later discover that each of them had designs on me. Pat was a few years older. Danny was my age and initially we became quite close. I wouldn't have guessed that it would actually be Pat that would prove to be a truly marvelous person and a dear life-long friend. Danny was extremely outgoing, a bit of a 'queen' already at 17 and highly promiscuous. He'd borrow his dad's giant Buick and we'd drive the two of us all over town. He'd show me the cruising areas, not that I cared to know, and make me listen to dreadful dance music. One night he took us to a dark area just off the road that overlooked the city (not the place where I met Marilyn). We sat close together on the bench style front seat and talked about our problems and listened to the radio. He described something his mother used to do to make him sleepy when putting him to bed at night. He wanted to demonstrate and took my hand and drew light ticklish circles on my palm with his finger. It felt good and I just relaxed and let him do it. "Would you mind if I take this a little further?" he asked. This took me entirely by surprise. I was not attracted to him physically and never suspected he thought of me that way. "Um, I guess not," I said. He continued with my hand and then traveled up and down my bare arm. He rubbed my chest through the shirt then slipped his hand under it and worked his way up my bare chest. The sensations were pleasant. I was wearing athletic shorts (which were still rather short in those days. The longer style shorts - jammers, I believe they were called at the time - were just beginning to come into fashion but were strictly the domain of skateboarders!) He began tickling my thigh and then my inner thigh. His hand slipped inside the leg of my shorts and up the front of my leg til he reached the liner of my shorts. My dick was rising and soon he found it through the liner. He gave it a brief squeeze and it became very hard indeed. Danny 'ooh'ed and giggled. He withdrew his hand and then crept forth again, this time going under the liner and beneath my underwear. He grazed through my pubes, tickled my balls and then circled the base of my hard-on. I had my eyes closed, just enjoying the wild sensations. He slowly ran a single finger up the length of my dick and down again. "Do you mind if we take these off?" he asked, meaning the shorts. "Okay." "Shirt first, he said, and began rolling it up and off me. I lifted my arms and let it come off. He trailed his fingers down my chest, smiling with approval. He grabbed the waistband of my shorts, I lifted my ass and in a flash he had them - and my underwear - around my ankles. He was all smiles as he caressed my hard dick. "Are you embarrassed that I'm seeing you naked?" he whispered. "No," said I, though I was, but just a bit. "Move over," he directed. I slid closer to the passenger door. He wanted room to bend over. "May I give you your first blow job?" he asked, grinning sweetly. I just nodded. Down he went. It was heavenly. I never imagined anything could feel that good. He took it all the way. He was talented. His tongue was everywhere. One hand played with my balls. He tried to force the other under my butt. When I realized what he wanted I lifted up for a second so he could get his hand under my ass. On the radio, Fleetwood Mac's current hit 'Big Love' was playing. He alternately blew me and jerked me off for the duration of another half-dozen songs. I used to be able to name them all. Though it felt awesome I couldn't seem to come no matter how I tried. It was some kind of sensation overload. I apologized. "Don't be sorry!" he said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm still enjoying this!" But he was on a strict curfew because his dad worked night shift at the mill and needed the car. We did have to quit. "I want to see you come," he said. "Will you jerk yourself off?" I thought that was a good idea and he sat back and watched while I stroked it. Still I couldn't come. I was mystified. "What's different?" he asked. "How do you normally do it at home?" "I just get naked and lie down and do it." "Do you need to lie down? Do you need to get naked?" "No, I sit sometimes, and I'm practically naked already." "Not quite," Danny declared and pulled my shorts off my ankles along with shoes and socks. Then he even took my wristwatch off! He sucked me some more then took my hand and placed it around my cock. I jerked off again while he stroked my chest and legs and I came. I've never been one to shoot very far but this one popped about 15 inches. More dribbled out and down went Danny to gobble it up. Afterwards he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend. I felt really sad for him and told him that I just didn't feel that way about him. He seemed okay with that. * For the next couple months Danny and I got together frequently. Any time one of us could borrow our parents' car we would end the night by parking somewhere remote. He would strip me naked, blow me and watch me whack off. Sometimes he'd get me to open my door and stand just outside so he could sit on the side edge of the seat and fondle my butt. Just to be fair I asked him a couple of times what I could do to help him get off but he always turned me down. One night I slept over in Danny's large basement bedroom with him. His parents didn't yet know he was gay. Pat was meeting us early the next morning at Danny's place to take us golfing - something neither Danny or I had done before. He stripped me and worshipped my dick. I jerked off and then we slept together, me naked, in his somewhat small bed - my first time sleeping with a gay guy. He cuddled me from behind with his arm around me. He confessed that he'd always wanted to do that. I felt him getting an erection. I reached down and held it for a bit but he shooed me away. He also let me in on a secret - that Pat was jealous of him for spending so much time with me and that Pat wanted me for himself. This took me by surprise. The next morning we were awakened by Pat's voice calling to us. Danny's mom had let him in the house and sent him down to Danny's room. I flew out of the bed, still naked, dragging a blanket and pillow with me. Pat had no idea that Danny and I had been fooling around and I hoped to keep it that way. I threw myself onto a small couch right by the door and just managed to get the blanket across my midsection when Pat came through the door laughing and telling us to rise and shine. I acted like I had slept on the couch and was just awakening. I couldn't help notice that Pat was eyeing my exposed chest and legs. So I figured Danny's report might be true. * Gay Pride Day was approaching, the first such occasion since I emerged from the closet. Pat and I agreed to attend the weekend festivities together and to split a hotel room. On the eve of parade day we journeyed from the suburbs to the big city and hit the gay bars. Legal age was 19. I was just a year away but didn't look it. I was thin and smooth-skinned but I was able to get by the bouncers most of the time by entering among a group of older friends and by wearing a carefully studied expression on my face that made me look a little older according to my friends' assurances. Once inside I always received plenty of stares and free drinks but I never encouraged the strangers that approached me. I tried to act like I didn't want the attention but for a teenager who'd been pretty shy and self-conscious as a child it was quite an ego-boost to be getting so much attention. Mind you, at that time there weren't many teenagers coming out of the closet so I was monopolizing a pretty large share of that market. These days there's a plethora of teenagers in the bars and some of them are awfully cute! Pat and I had requested a two-bed hotel room. It came with just one queen-size bed (no pun intended) but we didn't mind sharing. I awoke in the middle of the night to discover hands on me. He was touching my back and my ass - through my underwear. I stayed still and silent and let him do it. He crept stealthily out of bed and went into the bathroom for quite some time but on the way he stopped at the foot of the bed and played with my bare feet for a while. That's when I learned that I wasn't the only person in the world with a liking for feet. I must explain something. I'm probably coming across as some kind of narcissist or exhibitionist as I relate these encounters which so far, all seem to center around my own body. But here's what you must understand. My feelings about sex, similar to those about love, have never leaned toward any kind of reciprocity. My instincts have always dictated that sex and love are about one worshipful admirer and one beautiful beloved. To me it's a one-way street. Here's the kicker: I've never wanted to be the beloved. I've only ever wanted to be the admirer. I've always wanted to be the provider and the protector. Does that seem a little pederastic? I was without a father during my early formative years so that may have something to do with it. So why was I playing the opposite role at that time in my life? Because I was yet to meet someone beautiful who would let me worship them. All my desires still centered around Kyle, the unattainable straight boy. I played the role of the beloved instead of the admirer because it was the only role available. In those days all I could do was to live vicariously through those who admired me. And frankly I wanted to be kind. Why deny someone the pleasure they wanted while I was trying to find someone willing to extend that very favor to me? It would have been hypocritical! * I fell in with a small crowd of slightly older handsome gay elitists. They were rather snobby and careful about whom they allowed into their little clique. They were fashionable and political and I realized quickly that I didn't fit in with this crowd and didn't really want to. I was ready to sever my inclusion but the silliest thing happened. A struggling semi-professional dancer, one of the clique, invited me to hang out with him one evening - just the two of us. We spent a long late night together just driving around, walking around and talking about our often-difficult lives. His unlikely name, Tristan Castlebrook seemed somehow pretentious to me and in hindsight I suspect it may have been the result of a legal name change - perhaps for the benefit of his dancing career. Either way it matched his rather calculated personality. As the sun was about to rise we returned to his apartment building. In the lobby we said our good-byes and as it was the custom in the group to give good-bye hugs I asked, "Is this place too public for a hug?" "Not at all," he replied. "Is it too public for a kiss?" I was floored. He had this sparkling grin on his face and I realized, somewhat horrified that this whole thing had been a date. The crazy thing is - I was too embarrassed to admit my mistake. He kissed me deeply and guided me up to his tiny apartment. I'd been a little ashamed of the exhibitionistic sessions with Danny so I'd kept it secret. Tristan made the assumption that I was still a virgin and was beside himself with delight at the prospect of unraveling my cherry. I played along. Who was I to disappoint him? He undressed me reverently. He caressed and kissed and licked my body while I squirmed beneath his eager hands and lips. His disrobing was an afterthought. His dick was quite big and I jerked it for him now and then but he didn't want to come. He said that was his way with sex. He never wanted the arousal to end while he was with a partner so he would only come by masturbating later, when alone and re-living the encounter in his imagination. I, on the other hand, came several times. Once in his mouth and often in his hand. Tristan was an exquisite masturbator. He had magic fingers. Oral and anal may be the popular flavors of gay sex but the hand jobs I got from him provided some of the most euphoric, torturous mind-blowing orgasms I've ever had. We actually became boyfriends for no other reason then my being too embarrassed to admit the misunderstanding concerning our 'date'. It sounds crazy but it's true. And the fault was apparently mine because it turned out the whole group found it obvious that Tristan was after me since day-one. I hadn't realized it. Despite my mother's protests I spent a few over-nights at his place. He loved slobbering all over me and I felt good fulfilling his fantasies - or so I perceived. I never thought I might be hurting him. I became worried as I realized how much he was falling for me. I knew I had to break it off before it got out of hand. I did so. He begged me not to leave him. He said he'd never been so happy in his life. I felt sick about it. We had our last dinner together. I drove away while he stood on the sidewalk staring at me with the most sorrowful expression I've ever seen. Whether it was genuine or an act, I don't know. Everything was a show with him. Twice in the next ten years I ran into him and we just laughed about how infatuated he had been - saying how juvenile it all was. I'll never run into him again. He's gone. He went the same way as Dr Blake. I guess he got tired of living a pretend life and was too afraid of trying to live a real one - so he just called it quits. * Things were difficult at home. The gay issue was a bit of a problem but I blew it all out of proportion. I quit high-school, got a crappy job and moved out. Although part of it was just that I had to get away from Kyle. My infatuation with him was fucking up both our lives. I rented a room from a single gay man. For the record, that relationship remained strictly landlord-tenant. I dated a couple more guys in rapid succession. Then finally I met someone that was gay, my age and that I was attracted to! I'd heard all about Ted before I actually met him. Danny fell in lust with him and told me all about him. Danny had secretly been giving him occasional blow- jobs, which he was also doing for me again as I wasn't dating at the time. Finally Ted and I met a couple of times in group social situations and we seemed to hit it off pretty well. Then we got together for a movie - just the two of us. It was a Sunday evening and afterwards we went to his small apartment and stayed up all night just talking. As morning arrived we finally confessed our mutual attraction to one another, agreed to be boyfriends, kissed good-bye and went to work. Monday evening we got right back together and were naked in bed in no time. He had a great body, not really thin as I normally preferred but very firm and toned and smooth. Oh and he had nice feet too. Everything was mutual this time. We sucked and fondled and kissed endlessly. It was the best reciprocal sex I've ever had. He knew about my fetish and would rub my dick with his toes sometimes. It felt awesome. When Danny found out about Ted and I it ended our friendship. He was jealous. I guess he felt I betrayed him somehow. Perhaps I did. I'm not a saint. But Ted meant a lot to me. He was cute and sexy and the sex and the cuddling were great and I'd never experienced anything like this. I wanted to spend my life with him. I couldn't choose Danny's friendship over Ted's love. Ted asked me to fuck him. I did but just once. I didn't really like it. He tried to fuck me. It hurt too much and we never tried again. We were walking through a shopping mall one evening when we ran into two of Ted's friends. One of them was a 23-year old fellow named Gerald. I actually have no remembrance of this event whatsoever but I know it happened. Gerald was destined to play a major role in my life and he still talks about the time at the mall where he first laid eyes on me. * Ted moved to Baltimore temporarily - for university. I had a job with odd shifts that afforded me a five-day weekend every third week. This was the only time I could spend with him. It was a long trip - the furthest I'd ever been from home. The first time I showed up it took all of 30 seconds to find ourselves up in his room naked. We climbed all over each other. We could sixty- nine all night those days and we were good at it too. We had rhythm! He had an awesome dick. My second visit, three weeks later, was very painful. The second night there we went out to a local gay bar with a new friend of Ted's named Lance. While we sat in the bar I saw the door open and if my eyes did not deceive me - in walked Kyle. Kyle - the object of all my desires - in a gay bar in another state. It was utterly surreal. But it was not Kyle at all. It was a local young gay fellow who looked so much like Kyle - and Craig of course - they could have been triplets. It was haunting. I was devastated. The urge to go and speak to this gorgeous boy was overwhelming. But what on earth could I say? The truth would have sounded like the worst pick-up line ever. And what about Ted? I couldn't do that to him. I kept quiet. The boy was soon being pawed over by some older man and I kept silent about everything. Our last full night together Ted and I lay in his bed and he made a confession. He and Lance had been sleeping together. I was devastated all over again. The relationship was over. I know now that no male anywhere is fully capable of monogamy or faithfulness. For each and every man there is some level of temptation that he can not resist. It's true. But I didn't know that then. I was naive. I was idealistic. I wasn't mad but I was hurt. I was crushed. I knew I'd miss him. We held each other and cried together. The next evening I packed the car to head home. But when I left I didn't go straight home. I called the Baltimore 'gayline' for a list of gay bars and their addresses and I stalked them all evening. I completed the circuit twice. I had to find this Kyle-look-alike. I had to tell him he was beautiful. He deserved to know. And if he'd show any interest in me at all - I'd have packed my belongings and moved to Baltimore - just for a shot at being his boyfriend. He was that beautiful. But I never found him and that's probably for the best. He probably would have thought I was some kind of psycho. GERALD Ted and I stayed in touch and we even hooked up for quick sex on a few occasions. I decided at this time that I would never under any circumstances ever have a boyfriend again! I was dead serious. I was 19 then and had my own tiny bachelor apartment. The rent was $230 a month! Ted called me one Saturday just to say hi and as he did I was pondering a large piece of artwork that I needed to return to the art gallery. It wouldn't fit in my little old Nissan. "Call Gerald or Dale," suggested Ted. They were twin brothers - tall and thin with a lot of body hair but receding on top already. They had pleasant handsome faces. I'd met Gerald at the mall, you'll recall, though I didn't realize it. Gerald had a jeep and Dale a pick-up truck. "Naw, I don't really know them very well - to be asking favors," said I. "Trust me," urged Ted, "Either of them would be very happy to do you a favor." He was insistent. He knew something I didn't. He gave me their phone numbers." I was tight for options. I knew Dale a little better of the two. Though I found his manner rather intense and felt a little nervous around him, I gave Dale a call. He wasn't home. Gerald was. He dropped everything and came straight over to pick up myself and the painting. Task done I invited him in for a coffee but he revealed he had to go catch a plane! He was just packing for his vacation when I'd called. I was shocked he did me this favor at such a time! He took a rain check on the coffee and two weeks later he flew back home and wasted no time cashing it in. We became instant friends. He started visiting almost every evening. He knew how I felt - about wanting to be single - and it was torturing him. He wanted me in the worst way and I had no idea. One day as he visited I was barefoot. I knelt on the couch in order to reach for something behind it and all of a sudden he rushed up behind me, bent down and planted a sloppy kiss on the sole of my foot. He passed it off as a joke but I knew better. I realized two things. One - there were now at least three people in the world with a thing for feet - and two, Gerald had some kind of feelings toward me. I was determined to just stay friends but Gerald was a charmer, a real pro. He laid it on thick and I started to fall for him. We'd been buddies a few months when he talked me into vacationing with him in Florida. I insisted the hotel rooms have two beds. I was still resistant to the idea of a boyfriend. We had a great time. It was my first proper vacation. After the first night we never used the second bed. Gerald was (and still is) very sexually adventurous. He rimmed my ass. He licked my feet and sucked my toes. He took me shopping for dirty magazines. He had us taking photos of each other in the hotel room, naked and jerking off. We both have copies still! We took candid photos of young shirtless strangers on the street. He was wild and youthful and giddy and he would be my boyfriend for the next 13 years. And in that time we would find all sorts of trouble to get in to! LIFE WITH GERALD Gerald continued to visit me almost every night. Sometimes we'd stay naked the whole evening, having sex every so often - mostly sucking and jerking each other off. He bought some very arousing porno tapes featuring 18-19 year-old actors and left then at my place. He still lived with his parents. He had very prominent exhibitionist tendencies. One night we slept over at our friend Pat's apartment (the same Pat from part-2). We slept on a mattress on his living room floor. The next morning after our host was up and about we remained in 'bed' in our underwear. Gerald tossed the covers back, yanked down my undies and jerked me off 'til I came. After a brief respite he did it again, and then again! It seemed like he was determined to keep doing this until Pat walked in and caught us. Eventually he brought me to my fifth orgasm of the morning! The volume I discharged wouldn't have filled a thimble. At this point I think he was going for some kind of world record but I couldn't take any more. * We spent a night at a hotel in a neighboring city. Oddly I can't remember what the occasion was. We went for a swim in the hotel's indoor pool and then returned to the change room. We were the only ones in there. I dropped my trunks, dried off and sat on the bench with my towel in my lap. Without any word or warning Gerald squatted before me, threw the towel aside, grabbed my dick and thrust it in his mouth. He was a darn good cock-sucker and still is. He had me on the brink in no time when suddenly we heard the door open. Thank goodness, as with most dressing rooms there was a short wall in front of the door to block the view from outside the room. Gerald jumped away from me and I reached for the towel. A man came around the corner before I could cover up my hard-on. Whether he noticed it, I don't know. The man used the urinal and left. Gerald took my hand, led me into the sauna and finished blowing me. Another time we were alone in a different hotel pool and we took turns sucking each other under the water. He could hold his breath for more than a minute, which I found astonishing! * We found a much nicer apartment and moved in together. He told me all about his somewhat unusual childhood. He'd always been an exhibitionist and loved to streak as a kid. He told me how he'd sneak out the back door at night, strip naked and run all over town. He would dash across major well-lit streets and creep down alleys. He would have a hard-on almost all the time. He rode his bike naked through residential streets. He did this constantly through all his pubescent and teenage years. He was only caught once and ran away as someone called to him. His first sexual encounter happened at 17 when he found himself alone in a house with the 15-year-old brother of a friend. The boy, apparently straight was nonetheless rather uninhibited and seemed to have pegged Gerald as a homo. While lying on the couch on his stomach he asked Gerald to scratch his back for him. Gerald was more than happy to comply as he found the kid quite attractive. He knelt beside the couch and dragged his fingernails over the boy's shirt. "Gerry, I wish you were a girl!" said the kid, to Gerald's surprise. He wasn't sure what to think. "Scratch my bum," he then requested. Gerald happily obeyed, scratching the boy's firm ass through his track-pants. "No, not like that." Gerald changed pace. "No," the boy protested, "Do it slow. Nice." Finally Gerald understood. He was no longer scratching at all. He was rubbing the kid's butt with the palm of his hand. It had become a rather erotic massage. The kid had his arms folded below his forehead, burying his face. "Underneath," he mumbled. Gerald's heart skipped a beat. Had he heard that right? He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of the track pants. Taking a chance, he also slipped them beneath the underwear. There were no objections. Soon he was liberally groping the boy's firm narrow ass, skin on silky smooth skin. The kid began to grind his pelvis rather subtly into the couch. He reached back with both hands, took hold of his track pants and undies and pushed them down a bit, then went back to hiding his face. Gerald took up the task. He grabbed the waistbands and tugged them down further, baring a beautiful smooth butt. The boy raised himself, reached beneath himself and freed the front of his pants from 'whatever' they'd been snagged on. Gerald was pretty sure what appendage that might have been! He now feasted on the sight before him while his fingers continued to rub, squeeze and tickle the boy's smooth bare ass. Now and then he would run his finger down between the kid's legs towards his balls. The kid apparently liked that and spread his legs a bit in encouragement. All of a sudden the kid raised himself and shifted, rolling to his side so that he faced the back of the couch and his butt faced Gerald. Gerald continued the exploration, now and then trailing his fingers up over the naked hip prompting the kid to emit a brief, barely audible moan. Now he was rolling over more and Gerald peered over the bare hip to spy a beautiful hard dick with a thin stream of ejaculate dangling from it. Gerald yearned to touch it but wasn't sure if his caresses were welcome there. He instead crept toward the testicles. He was indeed welcomed there. The kid finished rolling over, keeping one forearm covering his eyes. His butt was now buried in the couch, no longer accessible but his lovely dick and balls were on display. Gerald fondled his balls, occasionally touching the root of his dick. Finally he dared to run his fingers right up the length of the erection and the boy emitted another quiet moan. That was all the encouragement Gerald needed and he began to lovingly explore the kid's hard-on. He couldn't believe the amount of pre- cum flowing from the tip. Gerald's hand and the boy's dick were soon coated in it. At the telling of this story to me, Gerald referred to the boy as a 'pre-cum machine'! Gerald laid his head on the boy's flat belly so that his nose was almost touching the head of the kid's gorgeous dick. As a string of pre-cum began to descend he reached out with his tongue to try to intercept it. The boy then spoke up. "Slob my knob!" he ordered. Gerald was thrilled. He opened wide and engulfed his first dick; a 15-year-old salty cum-covered dick. He was instantly addicted. He'd never given a blow-job before but was determined to thrill the boy. He worshipped that cock as best he could and was soon rewarded with a mouthful of warm cum. Resting his head on the boy's abdomen, he kept the cum in his mouth along with the head of the slowly softening dick. Some of the cum dribbled out of his mouth. He wasn't sure if he should be swallowing it or not. Finally he pulled away, went to the bathroom and spit his reward into the sink. He washed it down and rinsed out his mouth. That was the only time he spat. He would become forevermore a swallower with the next blow-job he would give. He grabbed some tissues, returned to the boy and lovingly mopped up his genitals. The kid had his eyes covered the whole time. "You'd better go," he said, regret in his voice. Gerald left and rarely saw the boy after that. It seemed he was avoiding him. Another day when he was visiting his friend he went upstairs to use the bathroom. He saw the boy's bedroom door was closed. He tapped on it lightly. The door opened. "What do you want?" "I want to give you a blow job," Gerald whispered. The door closed in his face. It wouldn't happen again. After Gerald and I had been together a couple years I began to be aroused at the thought of his streaking and asked for a performance. He was delighted to do so. Many times when we were out late we'd stop at a public park or some place. We'd go for a walk and he'd get naked and jerk off. It's rather lucky we never got caught. In one sense I almost wanted to get caught. What use was exhibitionism if no one was around to see? One time while Gerald was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts I asked him if he'd ever fantasized about exhibiting himself in front of live people - our friends or what not. I'd been having those thoughts myself for a while (of exhibiting him that is, not myself). Gerald responded by pulling his dick out the leg of his shorts, waving it around and playfully saying, "Oh, hi Pat, how's it going?" I was instantly aroused. I knew we could find people interested in a show. Gerald had a decent body; trim, somewhat sculpted and he'd been keeping it smooth through electrolysis and shaving. We had started to chum around a little bit with a neighbor; an older man named Phil who had proved our suspicions true by admitting he was gay. Gerald had an inkling the man was attracted to him. We put a plan into action. Phil came over one evening for drinks. Gerald was dressed in a pair of short shorts, no underwear, and we'd cut the liner out! In our living room we had a couch against the wall and a love seat in the middle of the room, facing the couch. Phil took a seat on the love seat so Gerald sat on the couch directly across from him. I sat beside Gerald. Our plan worked perfectly. I made all the drinks that night which gave me plenty of excuses to walk in and out of the room by passing behind the love seat and thus seeing exactly what view Phil was getting. It was quite a view. Sometimes just the head of his dick was visible, sometimes more. I was told later that he would get semi-hard whenever he'd spy Phil giving his crotch a good look, but nervousness prevented him from going fully hard. Eventually Gerald broke the tension. "Phil, I think Chad has something to ask you!" (Chad is me, but not my real name of course). "You ask him," I said. I was too embarrassed to do the talking. "Are you sure?" Gerald wanted me to have control of things. He didn't want to go too far without being sure I wouldn't end up jealous or regretful. But I was ready. "Yes. Go ahead. Ask him." "Chad has a fantasy about me being naked in front of people. He wants to know if you'd be our audience." "Sure I would," said Phil with a grin. "I figured something was up. But I'm out of smokes. Let me grab another pack. I'll be right back." Phil left. I was feverish with excitement. I practically tackled Gerald and we kissed deeply while I groped his dick. He was hard in no time. "Are you excited about this?" I asked. "Of course. Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Of course," said I. "Okay, well stop that or I'm gonna cum already!" I released him and went to make fresh drinks. Soon we were all reassembled in the living room. "Should I strip or what?" asked Gerald, looking at me. "No, I'll do it for you." Off came his socks. Off came his T-shirt. I fondled his dick through the liner-less shorts. He was good and hard. He lifted his butt. I dragged the shorts off him. We had Phil's rapt attention as he smoked his cigarette. I stroked Gerald's dick while he lay back on the couch, arms folded behind his head. "Do you want to touch it?" I asked Phil. "I thought you'd never ask!" he replied. He snubbed out the cigarette and came to sit on the floor beside the couch. Gerald was wide-eyed. We'd never discussed the idea of someone actually touching him. "Are you sure that's okay?" he said to me. "Yes. Everything's fine." Phil stroked Gerald's dick while Gerald just lay back and soaked up the attention. "May I suck it?" asked Phil. Gerald went wide-eyed again. "Sure! Go ahead," said I. Phil sucked it. He took it all the way. He was good at it, better than I. I could tell. Gerald came in his mouth. He swallowed. Phil thanked us and left. I whipped out my dick and jerked off as Gerald fondled my nuts. We had Phil over a few more times. Gerald rarely wasted time stripping down for his hand-job and his blow-job. Gerald and I moved away. We bought a house together and Phil only visited once before we lost touch with him, but we found quite a few other friends who were happy to watch Gerald's show, and in some cases to participate in much the same way Phil did. Our home would also be the scene of a number of other rather unusual encounters over the next 7 years... THE INCREDIBLE TRAVIS I answered a newspaper ad. A recreational indoor (arena) soccer team needed a few players. I was invited to try out. At the arena I was introduced to a handful of players including an extraordinarily beautiful teenager named Travis. He was about 5' 8'', smooth skinned with an adorably cute face and a very slim but sturdy body. He was a lightning fast runner. After practice we hit the showers. I saw Travis naked. He was stunning. The sight of his smooth little firm body took my breath away. He had the most adorable narrow pert little ass I've ever seen to this day. I made the team. After our fist league game we showered, dressed and gathered at a local bar that sponsored the team. Pitchers of beer flowed liberally. The bar keepers thought the soccer league was strictly 19-and-over (drinking age). We didn't let on otherwise and several underage players drank all season. Travis drank enthusiastically and being small, got drunk quickly. I spotted an old friend I hadn't seen since high school and I went to talk to him. While away from the table I heard quite a commotion from the team - uproarious laughter and carrying on. I finally excused myself from the old friend and returned to the table. Travis, quite drunk, leaned across the fellow sitting between us and said loudly, "Hey Chad, come here, I wanna tell you a secret!" Who was I to decline the wishes of such a beautiful boy? I dutifully leaned towards him, presenting him my ear as our teammates quieted and watched us. His lips approached my ear and then - he kissed me on the cheek! The gang exploded with laughter. I'd been had. Apparently he'd already snookered one or two others with this rather odd gag. "Look, he's smiling! He liked it!" joked one of our teammates as he pointed at me. He didn't realize this was the truth. I only regretted it wasn't on the lips! After our second league game I was under the shower next to Travis when he loudly announced, "Hey Chad, come here I've got a secret for you!" We all laughed. There was no kiss this time of course. A core group of us became good friends and sometimes the six of us would gather at my place after the bar closed and drink some more. Travis would often walk all the way home from there in effort to sober up before getting home. His mother was very religious and not approving of alcohol - underage or not. Other times he would leave with his best friend John and crash at his place. At one game John proposed to Travis that they just spend the night at my place afterward as I'd offered on more than one occasion. Travis agreed. I was ecstatic. I knew Gerry would approve as he'd met Travis and also found him adorable. The guys thought I was straight and Gerry was my roommate. But John and Travis's girlfriends had come to watch the game and decided to come out with the team afterward. It looked like our plans would not come to be. Travis ended up getting extremely drunk and got into an argument with his girlfriend Sherry. As we left the bar the argument got out of control and suddenly Sherry was crying and Travis was marching away down the street. John and the others rushed to Sherry's side and I alone followed Travis. He was a mess - mentally that is. He'd always behaved in such a happy-go-lucky manner. This was strange territory. He said some very disturbing things. He said he should just kill himself. This struck me sharply. I didn't know him well enough to realize this was nothing but the ramblings of a drunk teenager. I stepped in front of him, halting his march and I took his sweet face in both my hands, forcing him to look at me. "You're not gonna kill yourself," I said earnestly. "There are people who love you!" He looked at me wide- eyed. I was referring to his mom and girlfriend but deep down, I suddenly realized - I was talking about me. I worried for a moment I'd said too much. He stormed on and I followed along. Somehow during his ranting he kicked off one running shoe. I rescued it and carried it for him. I think he was heading for home but I managed to steer him to my house. Gerry wasn't home yet. Travis slumped down on the couch. I poured him a large glass of water but he wouldn't take it. I sat beside him on the couch. He said mournful things. I was scared. I didn't know if he might be suicidal. He cried. I put my arm around him. He lay his head on my shoulder. I was overwhelmed by the tenderness of the moment. Here I was basically cuddling with the most beautiful boy I'd seen since Kyle - except I was starting to fall for Travis in an even bigger way than I did with Kyle. And Travis was becoming even more beautiful to my eyes then Kyle had been. The phone rang. I went to it. It was John. He correctly guessed that we'd came to my place. "Jesus Christ, John! Is this kid suicidal or what? You gotta get over here!" John told me to relax. He explained that this happens sometimes and not to worry. Travis was just drunk. He wouldn't do anything crazy. They were taking Sherry home. Travis was my responsibility alone. Travis had meanwhile stumbled to the bathroom. I heard him puking into the toilet. When I finally got off the phone I found Travis lying on the bathroom floor. There was puke on his shirt and on the floor. He was pretty much out of it. I pulled him to a sitting position and leaned him against the tub. Thankfully he was only 130 lbs and easy to manhandle. He'd somehow got a bit of vomit in his hair. "Come on buddy. You're going in the shower." I pulled his shirt off him. He was a rag doll. He co-operated to the small degree his semi-consciousness allowed. I pulled his socks off him. He had beautiful feet - size 8 and very smooth. I was stunned that I'd never really noticed how cute his feet were before. "Come on, stand up! Let's get your pants off!" I couldn't believe this was happening. I wrapped my arms around his sleek naked torso and lifted. He cooperated. I leaned him against the wall and unbuttoned his jeans. I dragged down the zipper. My heart was beating like a hammer. This crazy episode was becoming the most erotic encounter I'd ever had. I started to pull his pants down. "I'm okay," he blurted. He stumbled out of his jeans and struggled to free himself from his white underwear while I 'spotted' him. He was naked. There wasn't one millimeter of space on his body I wouldn't be thrilled to lick. I'd have licked his puke off him if he'd offered! He was that sexy. I wrapped one arm around his narrow waist and turned on the water with the other. I guided Travis under the spray. The water hit my clothes. It hit the floor. I couldn't have cared less. I was prepared to stay there and hold him. I was prepared to wash him myself. Good god, how I wanted to do that. "I'm okay," he said again. He was snapping out of it. I left him to wash himself. One of the couches pulled out into a bed. I dressed it up with two sheets. No blankets. It was warm in the house. He wandered into the room in just a towel and wet hair, looking unbearably cute and sexy. "Where'm I sleepin?" "Right here." He dropped the towel and fell naked onto the bed. I went and gathered up his clothes - everything - and put them in the laundry. I went back upstairs to find Gerry home. He stood staring at the couch, mouth agape. "Is that Travis?" he gasped. "Yep." "He's naked!" "Yep." "You stripped him naked? Are you crazy? What's he gonna think when he wakes up?" I explained the situation. Gerry went to bed. I stayed up to stare at Travis's body and jerk off. I came several times. The next morning I found Travis sitting at the kitchen table wearing just a sheet. He didn't remember a single thing from the night before. I told him everything - except the jerking off of course. "So was I walking around here naked?" he asked, grinning adorably. "No." - not nearly for long enough, I wanted to add but refrained. I fetched his clothes from the laundry. He dropped the sheet and dressed right in front of me. I tried not to stare. I was now officially infatuated with Travis. His face, his body, his sweet demeanor. I loved everything about him. I desperately wished to spend another night alone with him but there was no prospect for that to happen. I came up with a plan. It was devious. I'm not proud of this. Travis is a New York Giants fan. I bought tickets- Giants vs. Redskins. I paid a fortune for them. And if the plan failed it would mean a lot of hard-earned money up in smoke. We were out drinking after our soccer game as usual. I told him a co-worker had Giants tickets he didn't want and offered them to me because I'm a Redskins fan. This was all a lie. Travis was thrilled. He wanted to go. He'd never been to an NFL game before. It would be a long drive, I explained. I wanted to get a hotel room. I would pay for it. He was agreeable. I was thrilled. I went out and bought a Redskins jersey. * I don't remember much of the game. I bought us plenty of beers and watched Travis get drunk. We partied after the game and eventually cabbed it to the hotel. I'd made sure to get a room with one bed only. He slept in just his white underwear. I cherished the experience of lying beside him in bed. I was too afraid to touch him. In the morning we watched TV in bed. He lay on top of the covers, still in just his undies. He leaned against the headboard with his right foot flat on the bed, his right knee up and his left ankle crossed over his right knee. I lay to his right and I stared at the sole of his foot for the longest time. This boy had the cutest face, sexiest body, sweetest butt and cutest feet I'd ever seen. He was a walking jackpot of sexuality. It was all overwhelming. * Travis and I were becoming good friends. I was falling ever so much in love with him. I confessed this to Gerald. He didn't mind at all. He was also entranced with Travis's adorable looks and sexy body and urged me to take advantage of any situation I could. I dreamed of being Travis's best friend. I dreamed of being able to take him in my arms and hug him. I dreamed of being privileged to rub his feet. I couldn't imagine being so lucky as to have any of these things come true. Little did I know. I came out of the closet to John and to Travis. Both were totally cool with it but urged me not to tell anyone else on the team. The Jersey trip for a Giants game would become a tradition. The next season we got to two games. At the first game Travis joined me in the hotel lobby when I went in to register. The bastard at the desk saw that our room had just one bed and offered us a room with two beds. Same price. Travis was right there, so I was forced to agree. I was heartbroken. He got very drunk again. Back at the hotel he stripped off his shirt and laid down on the bed - on top of the covers. He was passed out in no time. I was frightfully nervous. I knew what I had to do. I carefully laid down on his bed beside him. I was uncontrollably nervous. My heart was pounding so hard I imagined it was shaking the whole bed. I couldn't seem to calm myself. I wanted so bad to somehow cuddle with him but what would he do if he awoke and caught me in his bed? All of a sudden he was awake and throwing up! He didn't even notice my presence until I grabbed him and lifted him upright. He soiled that bed something awful! He showered and emerged in just his underwear - boxers now. I invited him to share my bed. I'd rolled all his sheets into a ball and stuffed them in the far corner of the room but his mattress was damp. He accepted. These were smaller beds. He fell asleep. I rolled onto my side facing him. I put my arm around him. I loved it. I must have laid awake for an hour gently holding him. He awoke suddenly. I pretended to be asleep. He took my wrist and gently lifted my arm off him and slipped out of bed to use the bathroom. He never said anything about my arm being around him. We continued playing soccer the next season. After a game Travis alone came to my place. Gerry was out. We didn't drink. We just talked. He was going to stay the night and removed his shirt as he got ready for bed. I desperately wanted to share that pull-out couch with him. I became very emotional. I confessed my love for him. I cried and cried. He was very understanding. He wasn't like Kyle at all. "I'd give anything to hug you," I said through tears. "Anything." "Okay," he said. I couldn't believe it. I invited him to put his shirt back on. I wanted to demonstrate that it wasn't about sex - even though to a large degree it was. He didn't bother re-dressing. I wrapped a thin bed sheet around him and then I put my arms around him. It was the sweetest thing that had ever happened to me. I held him tight. He hugged me back. "You don't have to hug me back," I said. "That's okay," he said. I held him close. I wanted him to feel the tenderness. I wanted him to feel the sincerity. It felt to me that my poor overburdened heart was finally releasing this tremendous mass of love that was running through my arms and into him. I wanted him to feel that love. "I don't want to let go," I pleaded. "That's okay," he said. He was so kind to me. He's not gay, if that's what you're thinking. I've never doubted he's straight. But while he has a lot of hang-ups and insecurities about certain things, he's always been entirely comfortable with his body and with all things sexual. I caressed the back of his head and his neck. I kissed him on the cheek and finally pulled away. This was the first of many, many hugs and that wasn't the only liberty he would eventually grant me. At the next Giants game we managed four tickets and John and Gerald came along. Only John got particularly drunk. The next morning Travis was in the shower when Gerald proposed we fill the ice bucket with cold water and dump it over Travis for a joke. I guess we weren't quiet enough about it and Travis caught on. As Gerald approached the shower, Travis whipped the curtain back and tried to upset the bucket onto Gerald. They both got doused. Gerald took the worst of it, getting his clothes wet but he was thrilled to finally see Travis's dick and wrestle with a gorgeous naked boy. Gerald and I shared a lodge in cottage country with three other couples, two gay and one straight. We were all great friends. We spent most of our summer weekends their. John and Travis and their girlfriends rarely visited us there. They were just teenagers after all and my lodge buddies ranged from early 20's to early 40's at the time. But John and Travis's group began to disintegrate. Both of them broke up with their girlfriends. Then their friendship turned sour. Travis had been fired from his job and blamed John (they were co-workers) for having a part in it. The others in the gang sided with John. I sided with Travis naturally. The feud became serious. We were ostricized, cut from the soccer team. I was thrilled! I wouldn't miss them one bit. This brought Travis and I much closer together. I became his only close friend. We found another soccer team who took us on. I asked Travis one day if we were best friends. He said yes. I was euphoric. I hugged him tenderly. He started visiting us at the lodge more often and became friends with all our gay friends. They teased me about Travis. They knew damn well I had a thing for him. "He looks 14!" they would tell me. They were right. Travis was a very late developer physically. During one visit to the lodge I sat at one end of a couch while he sat at the other. I told him to give me his foot and I would give him a foot rub. It had taken me a long time to find the courage to propose this and I was very sad when he declined. During another visit he lay on the couch with his eyes closed. I couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not. I moved fast. I grabbed his ankle, lifted it, turned and sat with his small socked foot in my lap and began to massage it. He opened his eyes, looked at me and closed them again. He didn't object! I was so turned on and so nervous I thought I would have a heart attack. My face was burning. I must have been blushing something awful. After rubbing his foot and toes through his white sock for a while and absolutely loving every moment of it, I put it down and grabbed the other foot. Heart beating wildly I summoned all the courage I could muster and pulled off the sock. His warm smooth foot in my hands turned me on like nothing ever before in my life. I lovingly rubbed, caressed and fondled every toe and every inch of his foot and ankle. Then I put the sock back on for him. "Thank you," was all he said. I went to the bathroom and dropped my pants. My shorts were full of pre-come even though I didn't recall having an erection during the footrub. I jerked off and came quickly. I kept jerking off and came again. * The next Friday I arrived at the lodge without Gerald. He had stopped coming regularly. But that evening he showed up unexpectedly with Travis in tow. Travis had phoned our home looking for me and asking if he could come to the lodge for the whole weekend! Knowing how much it would mean to me, Gerald brought him up. We all hit the booze pretty hard. Travis was drunk and I was on cloud nine, knowing he would probably share my bed that night. I would never have dreamed what a wild time was about to be had that night! One of the other couples, Bill and Carson, had brought a friend as well. Her name was Lois. She was a top- heavy girl. She was straight and a self-admitted fag- hag. I've never seen her again since but I'll never forget her for the incredible favor she would unwittingly do me that night. All ten of us were gathered around the bon-fire that evening after dark. We'd been drinking perhaps heavier then usual and the mood was campy, funny and merry. Travis was having a great time. At one point my buddies were teasing me about my end-of-night ritual, which was to always take a quiet walk by the lake with someone before retiring to bed. They were playfully ragging on me saying they'd all taken a turn and I would be on my own that night. "Come on Chad, I'll go with you!" blurted Travis and stood to leave. The night was far from over but who was I to turn down a walk in the dark with a gorgeous drunk boy! I grabbed a couple extra beers and we headed away. The lake wasn't far. We sat on a bench and talked quietly under a thousand stars. We listened to the loons calling. He said how lucky I was to have a place like this. He'd rarely been in such an environment in his life. He said it must be nice to sit on the dock and put your feet in the water! "I don't know," I said. "Let's find out, shall we?" he immediately stripped off his runners and socks as did I and we walked down to the dock. I was in shorts and I sat at the end of the dock and put my legs in the mild water. Travis was wearing jeans. He started to join me then realized his pants were getting wet. So he stood up and took them off, joining me in just his tee shirt and boxers! I was delighted. Travis confessed that he was turned on by Lois' big breasts and hinted he'd like to sleep with her. I knew he'd only ever slept with one girl - his ex girlfriend Sherry. The dock shook. Gerald had appeared behind us. He whistled at Travis. "Nice legs!" he praised. "You know I never been skinny dipping!" announced Travis. Gerald and I looked at each other like we'd just one the lottery. "We do all the time," said Gerald. This was a strategic lie of course. "I think I'll go for a dip now!" He added and began to disrobe. Travis scrambled to his feet and standing right beside me, facing me, he peeled off the tee shirt and dropped the shorts. I looked up at his beautiful naked dick. Gerald grabbed his bare little ass and Travis squealed playfully and thrust his groin forward to escape the groping, nearly whacking my forehead with his dick! I'm sure he was teasing us purposely. He was always very uninhibited when under the influence of alcohol. The three of us horsed around in the water. Gerald took to grabbing Travis and "throwing" him at me! This gave us both plenty of opportunity to get our hands on his firm naked body. When Travis decided he'd had enough he tried to climb back up on to the dock and of course Gerald and I helped him, getting liberal feels of his adorable ass in the process. We all climbed out and Gerald and I used our shirts to dry ourselves the best we could. We had extra clothes in the lodge of course. Travis began walking naked toward the lodge. "I'll just dry off by the fire!" he declared. "Whoa there!" said Gerald and grabbed his arm, leading him back, worried I suppose, what the others would say about a naked boy wandering around. I was fine with that idea. I thought Travis's body was the eighth wonder of the world and should be seen by everyone on the planet! And I knew Carson and Ray wouldn't mind. They'd both on separate occasions asked me enviously if I'd been sleeping with Travis. But whether their respective partners, Bill and Walt might get jealous or not, I didn't know. I took Travis's tee shirt and somewhat dried him with it. He giggled as I buffed his butt cheeks. Then he again wandered off toward the lodge, still naked. "Chad!" Gerald growled, "Do something!" "Who cares?" said I. "Don't worry about it." So he didn't. We got dressed and Gerald rounded up the boy's clothes while I returned to the campfire. Ray and Walt had already gone inside to bed as had Mark, our straight friend. Most unfortunately Mark's wife Pauline was busy fetching a blanket to cover Travis up with. Lois wasn't shy to look at Travis' body and they both laughed and giggled about it. Carson just sat there gazing at Travis like he was looking through the gates of heaven, praying to get in. Pauline appeared with a blanket and offered it to Travis. He stood from his lawn chair and turned around. All eyes looked at his butt until Pauline wrapped the blanket around him. He sat. Our chairs were adjacent. We all talked. More beer was consumed. The subject of massage came up. This was one of Gerald's penchants, both giving and receiving. He started giving Lois a shoulder rub. I got brave. I stood behind Travis and gave him one. He dropped the blanket to his waist and asked me to scratch his back. I did. I was thrilled that he welcomed my touch. He kept asking me to do it harder. He asked again and again. I was alarmed how viciously he wanted me to scratch. My nails were leaving white lines on his back. Gerald approached and began to help out. "Why do you like this, Travis," he asked? "Did Sherry do this to you?" "Yeah," he responded. "When you had sex?" probed Gerald. "That's right!" he admitted. I was amazed at Gerald's perceptiveness and thrilled with the situation. Here was the sexiest boy ever - being pawed by two older gay guys, stared longingly at by another, and the sexual connotations were all over the place. "Why don't you lay on the bench? It'll be easier," suggested Gerald. Travis stood and stepped to the bench and then to my shock and unbridled delight, he pulled off the blanket, laid it on the bench and then stretched out on top of it, face down, his adorable nude body entirely exposed to several grateful admirers! Gerald and I knelt on either side of him and slowly, lovingly scratched his back - and his butt - and his legs. We would run our nails down his back, over his sweet little ass - and down his legs. Then - and this is the best part - we would retrace our path but with the palms of our hands, smoothing over his baby-soft skin. He had hair on his head, armpits and pubic area - and a little on his shins. That was it. The caressing of his bare butt was the most arousing thing I'd ever experienced up to that moment - but things would get even better! Do you like your feet scratched? I asked. He didn't reply. I went and sat at his feet, taking one into my hands. It was a little dusty from walking around naked. I lightly scratched the sole of his adorable foot. "You know what I love?" said Lois. I looked up. Pauline had gone to bed by this time. I hadn't noticed when. I think she was uncomfortable with all this. Lois was looking at me as I played with Travis's bare foot. "What's that?" I asked. "Getting my toes sucked!" A shiver went through me. I could have kissed her for saying this. "Really?" said I, playing dumb. I held Travis's foot towards her. "Show me how!" Lois giggled wildly at this but didn't move to accept the offer. I turned back to the foot in my hands. The toes were so small, so adorable. I took them between my lips. I ran my tongue along them. God, how I loved it. I sucked and sucked, moving from one side to the other, usually sucking a few toes at a time. I switched feet and sucked some more. I had a hard-on now and didn't care if anyone noticed. Bill excused himself and left for bed. Carson said he'd be right in. But first he approached us and began to assist Gerald with the scratching of Travis's back. "You do his back," instructed Gerald, "I'll do his bum!" That startled me. Surely Travis would object at this point. He turned slightly, trying to peer over his shoulder at us. "Is someone sucking my toes?" he asked. "Yeah," said I, praying he wouldn't tell me to stop. "I can hardly feel it," he said, and rested his head back in his folded arms. Did he want me to suck harder, I wondered. Or was that his way of telling me to just give up on it. I didn't know how to take the comment. So I just continued to lick and suck his beautiful toes. Gerald was rubbing and squeezing his narrow butt cheeks. "Did Sherry ever nibble your bum?" asked Gerald. "No," said Travis. "Do you mind if I?" Again I thought he'd gone too far. "I don't care," Travis murmured. I was shocked. Gerald wasted no time. His lips and teeth were all over the boy's sweet ass. Carson was practically drooling on himself. We continued our worshipful assault on his naked body. "Spread your legs a little," I heard Gerald say. And to my continued amazement Travis complied. I finally took a break from his feet and moved next to his butt, across from Gerald. His lips were glued to one firm ass cheek. I tapped him on the head. I wanted a turn and Gerald understood. As he lifted his head I saw that his arm was between Travis's legs. He withdrew it, took my wrist and thrust my hand into that same position. I suddenly had Travis's balls in my hand! I fondled them lovingly while I attacked his firm buns with my lips and tongue. Gerald took a turn sucking toes. My lips found Travis's crack. I pushed my tongue in. I probed downward. I found his little rose bud. I gave my first ever rim job to a gorgeous straight teenager while 3 people looked on. Who could have imagined? Travis finally put a stop to it. He carefully turned himself over on to his back. I prayed that he would be hard. I would suck it for sure. He wasn't hard. He sat upright on the bench. He wanted to just sit and talk and watch the fire. So we did that. We sat and talked. Travis watched the fire and the rest of us watched his dick. Gerald asked him if we could take pictures of him. "I don't care," he said. But no one had a camera handy. That was perhaps the worst tragedy of my existence - that no one had a damn camera that night. Eventually Lois, Carson and Gerald went to bed leaving Travis and I alone at the fire, he still naked and sitting very close to me on the bench. I had been softly rubbing his shoulders, back, neck and the back of his head. I adored every minute of it and took long looks at his flaccid dick, not worried whether he noticed my gaze or not. I let the fire die and asked him if he was ready for bed. He wanted to go for a walk first. Perhaps he wished to walk off some of the drunkenness and avoid throwing up as he was somewhat prone to do. He climbed into boxers despite my assurances that we wouldn't be seen and that he was welcome to streak. On our walk we came to the tennis courts. The gate was unlocked and we went inside. He took a barefoot jog around the court before grasping onto the tall fence and beginning to climb. I rushed up behind him worried he might fall. Under the guise of spotting him I caressed the back of his smooth legs as he climbed. "That's far enough, buddy! Come on. Come down," I urged. He obeyed, thank goodness and descended. As his butt was even with my face he seemed to start to slip. I suspect he was well aware of my proximity and was purposely initiating contact, but I'm not sure. I immediately threw my arms around him without thought to where I was grabbing him. As it were, my right arm wrapped around his waste, the left slipped between his legs and I clamped onto his package, dick, balls and all! I held him in this awkward and intimate way and guided him to the ground. We made our way to the shore - a different spot then before - not by the dock. Here there was a picnic table on the narrow beach. He sat on the top of it, feet on the bench. I sat on the bench beside his feet. We both faced the water. We talked about serious things - relationships, sex, religion, goals in life - things he would never talk about when sober. I eventually worked my way around so that I was facing him. I caressed his foot, his slightly fuzzy shin, his cute knee and eventually, his smooth thigh. He didn't seem to mind. Finally we returned to the lodge. We didn't have to discuss sleeping arrangements. He went straight to my bed and sat on it. Gerald, his bed in the same room, awoke. We didn't like to sleep in the same bed - at home or at the lodge. This was no symptom of relationship problems as some dull-minded associates would allude to. One gets a better night's sleep with a bed to one's self. It's common sense. Gerald conversed with Travis as I fetched a rag and soaked it. I returned to the bedroom as Gerald left for the bathroom. I carefully wiped the boy's dusty feet clean. He then stretched out on the bed and scooted over to the far side - by the wall. It warmed my heart that he simply assumed we would sleep together and had no objection. I climbed in beside him and lay on my back. After a moment Gerald returned. "Is he asleep?" "I dunno. Travis, you asleep?" No answer. The poor thing had crashed instantly - unless he was choosing not to answer. Gerald dropped to his knees and gently sucked each of Travis's toes before returning to his bed. I rolled over to face my young bed partner. "Good night sweetie," I whispered. "I love you." I put an arm around him. I silently shed some tears. They were neither tears of joy or of sorrow - or perhaps both. I just felt so much love for him that the emotion overwhelmed me. Perhaps it was two weeks later when Travis came to the lodge for another overnighter. There was no skinny- dipping, no nudity. At bedtime we retired to my bedroom. Gerald hadn't come this weekend so there was no reason for Travis and I to share a bed. But for the moment we both sat on Gerald's bed and talked quietly. We hadn't drank all that much that night so I was nervous about trying to initiate any contact. We talked about the old soccer gang and some of the trouble and good times we'd gotten into. We laughed quietly. Pulse racing, I slid a tad farther away from him on the bed and reached for his shin. I tried to lift his leg but he held it firm for a moment, somewhat alarmed, not understanding what I was up to. "It's okay," I said and tried again. He allowed me to move his leg so that his bare foot was on my lap. I lovingly massaged his small feet, alternating every ten minutes or so while we talked and laughed into the night. Finally I gave him a hug, wrapping my arms and hands around his bare back and shoulders and then went to my own bed. I had desperately wanted to kiss his feet during the massage but didn't have the guts. But I was clever. I knew how to get across this barrier. * Returning home that Sunday Gerald was all ears as I recounted Travis's visit. When I told him of the foot- rub, I told a lie. It was a good lie, a fun lie, a necessary lie. I told him that each time I was about to switch feet, I would give the sole of his foot a brief kiss. In essence, I had told him I'd been kissing Travis's feet while Travis was sober and he hadn't objected. This gave Gerald the impression that oral contact with Travis's feet was now sanctioned territory. A short time later we entertained friends at our home, Travis included. He was the last to leave. When the others had gone, Gerald took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, scooped up Travis's socked foot and began to rub it. So I, sitting next to Travis, grabbed his other foot, pulled it to my lap and did likewise. We continued to chat and watch TV. I stripped off the sock and was thrilled all over again to have such a cute warm naked foot in my hands. Gerald did likewise with the other foot. And then, believing it an established routine, Gerald kissed Travis's naked foot! It turned me on immensely to see this. Over the course of the next hour or so we competed to give the boy the best foot rub. At one point I leaned forward and took Travis's small toes in my mouth and sucked. Travis squealed and pulled away. I released him. "Don't do that," he said. "You didn't mind a couple weeks ago at the lodge," I pointed out to no reply. Though he objected to the toe-sucking he didn't seem to mind the kissing and so we both kissed his feet - top and bottom - on several occasions. Finally we surrendered his cute feet, not wanting to push the envelope too much. We put his socks back on for him and soon after he left for home. Gerald and I were both entirely turned on and immediately jerked off together as soon as Travis left. This was the beginning of a pattern that would last for years. Gerald and I - or more often, just I - would give him foot rubs almost every time we got together; at our house, his apartment (he moved away from his mom's house), even at other friend's houses in front of an audience! To this day I still give him the occasional foot rub and still kiss his feet or toes. He still has soft smooth little feet. But there were also times that I got to explore other parts of his firm young body! GERALD REVISITED Gerald and I continued to explore our exposure kink. He was a very good house painter and he did some painting for our friend Pat - the somewhat older fellow that I met my second time out to the gay support group and who became a very close friend. Gerald did the painting in the nude while Pat hung around and later they lounged in the living room talking, Gerald still naked, lying on the couch, his dick often hard while Pat stayed fully clothed. On another occasion Pat slept over in our guest room. We left our bedroom door open and Pat discovered us having sex with the light on when he got up to use the bathroom. We invited him in and he was full of compliments for Gerald's body and felt him up liberally before returning to the guestroom. * Owen was a cute younger fellow who we met while he dated a friend of ours. After breaking up, Owen severed ties with our circle of friends except for Gerald and I. One evening as he visited us in our home the conversation kept turning to sex and Owen seemed to be the instigator. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to engineer a threesome!" I said. "But I am!" he said with a sweet grin. That was all it took and Gerald and I began stripping him naked. He had a very smooth sturdy body, cute feet, and as we pulled down his boxer shorts we found he had a very big dick. Gerald, the more expert cock-sucker went to town on it and Owen continually begged him to be rougher. He was not at all sensitive. He liked his dick nibbled and loved it when I rubbed it against my unshaven jaw. Gerald eventually got naked but I preferred to stay dressed as I usually do when a partner has a nicer body than mine. To me sex is rarely about reciprocation. It's all about the worship of the beautiful one. I did take out my dick though and jerk off while we played. I came home from soccer one night and saw a strange pair of shoes by the front door. I went immediately to the bedroom and was thrilled to find Gerald and Owen going at it in the dark. I joined the fun. At one point Gerald took Owen's smallish foot in his hands and began to lick his sole and suck his toes. I came immediately. * My first real boyfriend, Ted - still the only partner I've ever had great two-way reciprocal sex with - came back into our lives when he moved back to our city. Gerald was talking to him on the phone one evening and he told me to pick up the other extension. I did. Gerald was telling Ted how jealous he had been back when Ted and I were dating because he had such a crush on both of us. It became a rather explicit and sexy conversation. Ted was in a relationship but an 'open' one and soon we arranged a date for a threesome. It was great fun. Ted still had a great body. We all stripped each other and took turns getting worshipped by the other two. I sucked Ted while Gerald rimmed his ass. They put their lips together with my dick between and basically blew me simultaneously while four hands explored my chest and my balls. It was a wild sensation. Gerald loved it. It was a fantasy finally come true for him. He took photographs of Ted and I going at it but the photo store wouldn't print them. He still has the negatives. * One evening Ted and two other friends ended up at our place at the same time. The other two friends had both at one time or another been privy to one of Gerald's naked 'performances'. Whether they had shared this information with each other I don't know. We put together a spontaneous dinner and afterwards just relaxed at the table, opened more wine and beer and got nicely buzzed. Gerald disappeared for a moment and returned wearing just a pair of shorts. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I reached back and felt my way to his zipper. "Hey, what are you doing?" he cried playfully. "He's taking off your shorts, what do you think?" stated Ted, clearly game for what we had in mind. "But I'm not wearing underwear!" said Gerald. "So!" said Ted. I eyed our other friends. One looked like he was into it. One looked a little nervous. Ted was all smiles. I turned in my chair and swiftly deprived Gerald of his pants. He was naked. He played shy and tried to hide behind me. I kept reaching back to touch him. Finally at Ted's encouragement he moved slightly to one side and rested his hardening dick on my shoulder for all to see. I caressed it. It grew harder. I guided him closer to the table - beside me. I played with his dick for an audience of three. "Kiss it!" urged Ted. So I kissed it. "No!" said Ted, "Kiss means to suck it!" So I did. I sucked his dick in front of three friends. Ted left his seat and came around to fondle Gerald's ass. He reached around and touched his chest. He grabbed the chair Gerald had been sitting in, pulled it far back from the table and sat down. He grabbed Gerald and pulled him back on to his lap. He reached around and jerked Gerald off until he came. It was all quite erotic - at least to four of us. The one guy wasn't too sure what to think. Gerald got into the gay chat rooms online. He 'met' a fellow named Eric who claimed to be 16 and who lived in the neighboring town - not too far from us. They agreed to meet. I didn't believe this person was really who he said he was and was surprised when Gerald informed me they'd met. Not only had they met, but Gerald had given the kid a bare-foot rub and later sucked him off. I was impressed to say the least. "But is he really only 16?" I asked. "No," said Gerald. "He'd lied about that online. He's only 15!" One night Gerald brought Eric to our home for a visit. He was a strange kid from a broken home. He was thin and blonde. He was a smoker. He had a nice body. He continued to get blowjobs from Gerald but the two of us didn't hit it off particularly well. There was no real problem. Just a chemistry thing. We talked about having a threesome some time but it never materialized. Like I said, he was a bit of a weird kid and he talked about wanting to get into the porn business! He wanted to do an audition tape. His best friend was a girl his age who knew he was gay and she had a video camera (her parents' actually) but they both lived at home with parents of course. One evening Gerald showed up at our place with Eric (now 16), his girlfriend and the camera. With very little embarrassment, the kid stripped naked, lay on the couch and jerked himself off in front of the three of us while the girl filmed it. He never did get into the porn business. He's now a young drag queen of all things. We heard about a bar called the Crow's Nest that held a 'naked night' every Friday. Supposedly patrons were welcome to strip naked on these special nights. It sounded too weird to be true and not entirely legal. Although, in hindsight the law does afford nudist groups the opportunity to practice their customs in private settings. In fact I once showed up early for a soccer game to find naked people of all age and gender having some kind of gymnastic event at the arena. It was quite an eye-opener and a turn-on too I must admit. The arena was city property so I must assume this was all legal. The Crow's Nest was known as a leather-bar - not anything Gerald or I were 'in' to, but nakedness we certainly were. We showed up on Friday to find a fair crowd of which only two or three guys were naked - that is, they were wearing nothing but shoes. They were significantly older gentlemen I should add. There was a check-in guy who was very smiley and urged us to check our clothes. I wouldn't dream of it but Gerald happily started to strip. All his clothes went in a big plastic bag and I pocketed his chit. We walked around the bar. I was quite turned on seeing Gerald exposed to such a crowd of dressed people. We got a lot of attention. I started playing with his dick and he was rock hard in no time. Several admirers took great notice of us as the crowd in the bar grew bigger. Now and then other men would grope his dick or his ass. A group of teenagers came in but stayed clear of us. There was one who was very cute and young-looking. Gerald and I both were attracted to him. At one point I went to the bar to get us both drinks while Gerald saved our seats at the other side of the room. The bartender had been generous with our drinks on account of Gerald putting on such a good show. While standing at the bar I sensed someone come up beside me and I heard a voice say: "Why do you keep hanging around that naked man?" I turned around and it was none other then the cute boy we'd been looking at! "Because we're here together. He's my lover!" I said. "Oh." I asked what he was drinking and ordered him one on my tab. He smiled a very sweet smile and thanked me and walked away. Later in the night a different youth approached Gerald and they talked for some time. I couldn't hear them over the music. Finally the kid left and Gerald turned to me, all smiles. "His name's Peter. Cute, isn't he?" "Yeah I guess. Not exactly my type." "Well, guess what, I know who IS your type. The one you talked to at the bar. He's Peter's friend. His name's Nathan and he's 18 and he thinks you're hot!" "Fuck off," I said and I meant it. Years ago I would have believed it because I was once very popular at the bars. But those days were gone. "I'm serious. Peter says that Nathan thinks you're the hottest guy in the bar!" Now I was getting a little ticked off. I didn't believe this shit for a second. Peter came back to us with Nathan in tow. He introduced each of us to Nathan and then resumed his conversation with Gerald while Nathan and I stood together awkwardly. I simply could not believe this was going on. Nathan asked if we could go somewhere else to talk. I followed him to a hallway where we were basically alone. We made small talk for a bit. I was nervous. I still couldn't comprehend what was going on. "You know you're the hottest the guy in the bar tonight!" he said with a big smile. I laughed out loud. "First of all, you must be crazy because I certainly am not. And secondly- you're the hottest guy in the bar - by far!" Nathan stepped closer to me, grinning. "No, you are. And I don't know why you want to hang out with that naked man!" "I told you. He's my lover." "Yeah well, he's going home with Peter tonight." "I don't think so," I said matter-of-factly. "He's not leaving me here!" Nathan stepped closer still. His cute face was right in mine. "You can come home with me!" he said, and the next thing I knew we were kissing. His lips were wonderfully soft. His tongue was delicious. I pulled away. "I can't go home with you unless Gerald comes too." Nathan shook his head in response. "I want to fuck you!" he announced. "No. I'm sorry. I don't do that. I wouldn't even undress in front of you." "Why not?" he pouted. "'Cause you're beautiful. It wouldn't be right," said I. "What WOULD you do?" "I don't know. I'd like to see YOU naked!" He started kissing me again. "You're an awesome kisser!" I said. "You're making me hard." He took my hand and placed it against his crotch. I wasn't the only one hard. Now I was really turned on. I rubbed him purposefully. Our tongues did battle. "Christ, you feel big," I blurted. He undid his button and sucked in his flat belly. I went down the front of his pants. No underwear. I found the base of his hard dick and held it. Suddenly Gerald was there with us. Nathan immediately buttoned himself back up. Gerald wanted to go home with Peter and wanted me to go home with Nathan. I resisted. I wanted a threesome with Gerald and Nathan or else a foursome. But nobody else wanted that. I finally conceded. We all piled into Gerald's car. He dropped Nathan and I off at a townhouse complex and promised to be back in a couple hours. We went inside and a handful of other teenagers - guys and girls were in the living room. "These are my roommates," he announced. "Guys, this is Chad." We all said brief hello's and then Nathan led me to his tiny bedroom. It all seemed rather strange and awkward. He was into art in a big way and his walls were covered in his own drawings and paintings. I spent a while admiring them. He had a little couch in his room. No bed. Perhaps the couch was a pull-out. I don't know. We sat on it and cuddled. "Let's get naked," he said. "I told you, I won't. You get naked." "We'll see!" he teased. We cuddled some more. We kissed. He was very cute. I loved it. "Do you want to see my bum?" he asked suddenly. I laughed. "Yes!" He stood up, stepped to his desk and picked up a great coil bound book. It was a sketchbook. He flipped to a drawing of a young man, lying face down, naked. He certainly had a nice bum. "That's you?" "Yep!" "How'd you draw yourself?" "From a photograph!" He rifled through some belongings, turned up a photo and surrendered it to me. It was definitely Nathan and he definitely had a nice ass. "Are you sure that's you?" I teased. "Yes," he laughed. "I don't know, I think I'll need to see the real thing to be sure!" "Alright!" He leaned back and reached for his button. I stopped him. "Let me." He lay there passively while I undid his pants and tugged them off of him. I eyed his big dick. It was a handsome one. Nathan stood and turned his back to me. I touched his two sweet globes. I rubbed them, pinched them and squeezed them. I leaned forward and kissed them. I sat him back down. I knelt before him. His dick was hardening. It was a big one. I wouldn't be able to take it all. I would embarrass myself for being a second-rate cock-sucker. But I had to try. I fondled his dick. I stroked it. I loved the feel of it in my hand. I kissed it. I licked it. I licked it some more. I went down. I sucked on the head of it, gave it lots of tongue. He was vocal, appreciative. He ran his hands through my hair. I went for broke. I plunged down further. I let it slide right down my throat. And I didn't gag! Amazing. My first time successfully suppressing the gag-reflex. Gerald would be proud of me. It was the best blow-job I'd ever given. I think Nathan liked it. His dick got really hard. I felt a subtle pulse in his dick. I backed up so just the head was in my mouth and I grabbed the shaft with my hand. Fluid gushed on to my tongue. I drank his come. I sucked him some more as he softened. Finally I released it from my mouth. Nathan was all tired now and wanted to just lie in my arms. I wanted that too but made him takes his shirt off. He resisted because he had come. He didn't feel as sexy any more. He was embarrassed. But I made him get naked and we cuddled. I held his sweet nude body in my arms. Finally he got dressed and we went outside and sat on the curb. Gerald eventually showed up and took me home. Nathan had given me his phone number but I never called it. I don't know why I didn't. I never saw him again. WORSHIPPING TRAVIS Travis and I had expanded on our NY Giants trips. We started hitting other cities and other sports. Our biggest excursion was a 6-day baseball trip in which we hit 3 major league games, a state fair and a day at the horse races. Two other friends joined us. We booked hotel accommodations for the first and last nights and for the middle three nights we booked campgrounds. One friend supplied his parents' mini-van and the other a big tent. The first night at the hotel Travis and I shared a bed. When I was confident everyone was asleep I crept out of bed, went to the bottom end of it and folded back the sheet, exposing Travis's cute feet. I gently kissed the soles of his feet and jerked off all over the carpet. The second night we were in the tent, all laid out in a row, me at one end with Travis beside me. Again, when it seemed all were asleep I moved to Travis's feet, lifted his blanket and kissed his toes while I came in my hand. The third evening Travis and I were alone in the tent for a moment and planning to go to the shower building to clean up. Travis was always one to joke about streaking and being naked. "Maybe I'll just strip here and walk to the shower naked and show everyone what they can't have!" he kidded. "But why can't they have it?" asked I. Travis just shrugged. We walked to the building - clothed of course and stripped there, inside separate neighboring shower stalls. The stalls were deep and curtained and separated by a concrete wall roughly 7 feet high. Each contained a chair just inside the curtain. I withdrew my camera that I'd smuggled inside my shaving kit, estimated what distance to set the manual focus at, climbed on the chair and peeked over the wall, hoping to get a quick shot of Travis's gorgeous nude body. He caught me. That is, he saw me looking. We just made a joke of it and laughed. He didn't see the camera. I never got the picture. I awoke the next morning to find Travis sitting up on top of his blanket in just his boxers while the other two slept. I moved and sat at his feet and we held a whispered conversation while I massaged his bare feet, eventually giving them kisses as I finished. The fourth night the friend who brought the van slept in it leaving three of us in the tent. I slept in the middle. As Travis was getting ready for bed he was standing in the tent - slightly slouched under the low roof. He was in just his boxers with his back to me. For a joke I grabbed his underwear and whisked them down to his ankles. Our friend laughed at our antics. I slapped his bare ass. Had the friend not been there I would surely have kissed, licked or nibbled that sweet butt. "Oh, very mature, Chad." He said but stepped out of the boxers, finished what he was doing in the nude, then put his shorts back on and climbed into bed. This night he decided to sleep the opposite direction - with his feet beside my head. After we were all tucked in the three of us talked for quite a while. The whole time I had one hand under Travis's blanket playing with his feet and one hand stroking my own dick. I tried to be very covert and not let the friend catch on to the foot-rub and not let either of them notice that I was furtively masturbating. However 'foot-rub' does not accurately describe this incident. I was fondling his feet - caressing them - worshipping them. I think Travis had to know by this point that my attentions were not simply that of a generous masseur, that I was getting some kind of erotic satisfaction out of these encounters. * The fifth night was a very special night indeed. We all drank heavily that evening - our last evening of the trip. At the hotel Travis stripped to his boxers and laid on his back on top of the covers. He was asleep in no time as were the others. I laid down the opposite way and went crazy on his feet. I kissed them very wetly as I caressed his shins, ankles and feet with my hands. I sucked on his toes. He was passed out. Nothing would wake him. I totally made love to his feet and with very little stimulation I came in my underwear. I shifted around again and slept beside him. I woke up later and eyed his bare chest. I kissed it. I kissed his nipples. I kissed his flat tummy. I looked at his shorts - at the bulge there. I reached out and touched it. I was shocked to find it rock-hard at the touch! My heart rate doubled. His dick was erect and pointed straight toward his belly button. I ran my finger along the ridge. I was in a frenzy of lust. I had quite a boner of my own going on despite my recent orgasm. I reached up the leg of his shorts and very carefully crept north. I touched the hair on his beautiful balls. I touched the base of his glorious erection. I moved my fingers further along, exploring the shaft of his wonderful hard dick. It was velvety and warm and unimaginably sexy. I had to see it! I tried to bend it sideways trying to push it out the leg of his shorts but it was the kind of erection that just locks in place - not out but straight up against the belly. My efforts disturbed him. He suddenly moved. I whipped my hand out of there and dropped my head to the pillow in a flash. I was terrified. I tried to pretend I was sleeping while my heart pounded so hard I thought it was shaking the entire hotel complex. I woke up again later as the sun was only beginning to make its presence known. Travis was still on his back. I reached out and touched that wonderful bulge again. He was still hard - or hard again - whichever the case may have been. Again I sneaked my fingers up the leg of his shorts and found his sweet balls and hard-on. I had a good feel, running my fingers up and down his 6-inch erection. Now 6 inches may not be especially big but it was more than big enough on a skinny little guy like Travis. He again moved in his sleep, scaring the crap out of me and prompting me to whip my hand out and fake sleep. The next time I awoke it was mid-morning. Travis was also waking up. I glanced down. It looked like he still - or again - had a hard-on in his boxers. Our two friends were both still asleep. Travis rose from the bed and started walking around the hotel room. He looked through his gym bag. He went to the window and pulled the curtain back a bit to peek outside. He picked up a watch and checked the time. Almost the whole time he stayed in profile from my view and there was no doubt he had an erection. It poked against the shorts - just below the waistband. It was pointed almost straight up - perhaps 10 or 15 degrees from vertical. The little bastard was exhibiting himself to me. I was sure of it. The little show-off was teasing me. Finally he came back to the bed and sat right beside my hip, facing the foot of the bed. Had he then lain directly back his head would have hit the pillow. And that's what I thought he was going to do. But no, he just sat there. So I reached up and scratched his smooth back for him. I did this for quite a while. I wanted to demonstrate that I was devoted to his pleasure. In case there was something else I could do to please him! Finally I sat up beside him. That damn hard-on was still making an obscene tent at the top of his shorts. I stared right at it and he had to know it. Finally I reached out and tapped it saying "What's that?" - sort of as a joke. He smacked my hand away quite aggressively. Apparently I was allowed to look but not touch. "Sorry," I said quietly. Later, as we were all packed to leave and Travis and I were about to leave the room and join our friends at the van, I stopped him and said, "Hey, is everything okay?" "Sure," he replied. I threw my arms around him and gave him a big warm hug. * On a trip to Washington to see a Knicks - Bullets basketball game we shared a hotel room with one other friend. All of us got drunk. Travis and I shared a bed. I twice got my hand up his shorts to play with his erect dick and twice came in my shorts while slobbering all over the soles of his feet. We had a friend named Reggie. Frankly the guy was a loser that Travis and I would occasionally hang out with out of pity - because few others would. There wasn't anything particularly offensive about him except that he was rather childish and socially incompetent, not understanding how to be tactful in any given situation. He met a girl from a complete trailer-trash family on a telephone sex-chat line. Their first date was at a donut shop where he bought her a coffee and she blew him in the parking lot. That story might have turned me on had they not both been so thoroughly unattractive. The wedding itself was a tedious affair. The bride's family were all drunk out of their gourds. The rather proper and classy family of the groom were doing their best to hide their horror at the whole thing. Travis and I were just grateful that we were pre-warned that it would be a cash bar and had accordingly reduced our wedding gifts to compensate. But I was eternally grateful for the whole gruesome experience because it inadvertently brought about the most delicious and memorable event of my life thus far. Reggie convinced Travis to host a little stag party for him at Travis's apartment. This stag consisted of five people! That's the best we could do for dear old Reg. Four of us played poker all night and got drunk while Reg spent the night on the phone talking to the wife- to-be trying to calm all her irrational psychotic fears. Eventually we all crashed - Reg in the spare room, the other two guys in the living room and Travis and I on his bed. He slept on his back in just boxer shorts again and with no covers on. I couldn't wait to get my hands on his beautiful dick again. While waiting for him to fall asleep I fell asleep myself. But I awoke in the early morning while he was still passed out. I felt around. Bingo. Hard again. I reached up the leg of his shorts. These boxers were looser than the others and my hand easily slipped in to fondle that wonderful hard dick. Then I came to a startling realization. My previous attempt to free his erection was poorly planned. There was no need to bend that iron-firm dick sideways. I merely had to raise the leg of his boxers up over the head of his dick. I grabbed the leg opening and pulled upwards. It was easy. I dragged it up over the head and let the material gather beneath his dick. Oh, what a beautiful sight. Webster's has it all wrong not putting a picture of Travis' hard-on next to the word beautiful. Perhaps they asked him and he turned them down. It was a perfectly symmetrical unblemished circumcised hard smooth dick pointing right up at his belly button. It was absolutely mouthwatering. I kissed it all over the underside. The warmth and velvetiness were a taste of heaven to my adoring lips. I lifted it slightly away from his tummy - with much resistance, such was the rigidity of its position - and I slipped my lips over the head and down. Travis - the most beautiful and sexy boy in the world - had his hard cock in my mouth. I was sucking his cock. I have jerked off roughly a million times to this memory. I sucked very gently. I didn't want to wake him. I then left it for a while as I went down to kiss and lick his feet and suck his toes. I then realized the stupidity of leaving his dick out in the open while I did this - in case he woke up and I had to abandon his feet and pretend to be asleep. So I returned to his dick and sucked it some more. I was utterly beside myself with lust. Just out of my mind with sexual euphoria. I finally regretfully replaced his boxers over his dick and slipped into the bathroom where I jerked off and came twice. I would come at least six more times throughout the day just thinking about it - and roughly four times a day for the next week or two. The next time we shared a bed it was a cool night and he wore underwear and track pants to bed and a T-shirt. As he lay back on the bed I sat at the foot of it and massaged his bare feet. He closed his eyes. I don't think he was actually asleep. As I finished the foot rub I raised his left foot way up to my face and planted a long series of open-mouthed kisses along the sole and the toes. In the middle of the night I sat up and felt around his crotch. His dick was hard but not very accessible. It was all I could do to peel the track pants and undies down a bit - just enough for me to swirl my tongue around the delicious head of his hard-on. His body suddenly jolted and I flew to a lying position and shut my eyes, heart pounding like crazy. On another sports-related trip - just the two of us - I connived to get a one-bed hotel room and Travis got very drunk. He stripped naked and put on pajama bottoms and crawled under the covers. I took a shower and wasted some time before going to bed - wanting to give him time to fall into deep sleep. He seemed entirely out of it. I pulled the blankets down to his knees. I felt the crotch of his pajamas. He was soft. I toyed with it through the soft material of his jammies - or PJ's as Travis likes to call them. His dick started to harden for me. I was thrilled. I kept caressing it as it thickened and lengthened and turned sideways and then up toward his belly button as it locked firmly into position. While previous encounters with his erections may have just been piss-hard-ons for all I know - this was clearly the result of my sexual fondling. I was out of control with lust. I actually unbuttoned his PJ's and fully exposed his beautiful young dick. I caressed, kissed, licked and sucked it for about a good half-hour. It softened once but I coaxed it back to hardness with my worshipful sucking. I felt a brief taste of pre-cum with this second effort. I put one hand against my own crotch and came in my shorts. Finally I put his dick away, buttoned him back up and worshipped his naked feet for a while before going to sleep. Sometimes I wonder if he was really asleep through all of it or not. I have to assume he was. * Travis was approached by an older woman that he worked with. She asked if he liked movies and proposed she bring a couple to his place for a movie-night. Francine was quite a bit older - late 40's. She's not at all youthful for her age - quite the opposite in fact - while Travis was - and still is - extremely youthful for his age. They would become lovers for a couple years and be constantly mistaken for mother and son. Francine would eventually become very close friends with Gerald and would confide almost anything in him. Travis of course was my best friend and became quite willing to share very intimate details with me whenever he was drinking heavily. Thus Gerald and I were able to piece together a lot of their personal life and sex life. I will briefly share some of their experiences. That first night in front of Travis's TV he laid down on the couch as he has always been prone to do. He didn't really understand if this was a date or not. Late in the evening she asked if she could lie down with him and proceeded to 'spoon' him from behind while they watched a movie. Eventually she began to stroke his chest through his tee shirt, then underneath the shirt and then she drifted her fingers over his crotch and groped him. Meeting no objection she unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the zipper and fondled his semi-erect dick though his boxer shorts. Travis just laid there and soaked up the attention. Finally she penetrated the boxers, pulled out his cock and toyed with it for a while. "I think it's time for bed," she whispered. He agreed. They killed the TV, went to his bed, stripped as far as their underwear and got in. Travis still didn't understand if he should expect to have sex or not. They fell asleep. Travis awoke later in the night to find the woman's hand down his shorts, playing with his boner again. They threw the covers aside, lost the undies and he fucked her like the little tiger he is. Francine invited Travis to spend a weekend at her little house she rented in another town. He did so. They had lots of sex. Travis sleeps late. She doesn't. She would be out of bed, dressed and productive long before Travis would emerge from her bedroom. Both Saturday and Sunday Travis was finally awakened by Francine sucking his young dick, covers thrown off his naked body. She moved in to Travis's apartment. Travis's evening routine didn't change despite having a live-in lover. He kept the thermostat high. He would come home from work, take his second shower of the day, put on boxers and nothing else and lie on the couch watching TV for the rest of the night. Only now he had Francine sitting at the end of the couch, usually touching his bare legs and feet. This of course, was a monumental turn-on for me. On a few occasions I was over at his place and witnessed this. I would sit strategically so that I could often see Travis balls and dick up the leg of his shorts as he squirmed around. She would often just caress the tops of his smooth feet but once when I was there he asked her for a foot rub and she immediately complied and massaged his feet all over. I honestly wonder if he did this for his own sake or for mine. There's no doubt he has some degree of exhibitionist tendencies. Another time he kept sneaking his bare foot up towards her face and would suddenly press it against her cheek. She would giggle at this like it was a joke while I nearly died of sexual arousal. I know that when I wasn't there Francine would invariably lie down with him on the couch, her head on his tummy and she would caress his body. She would rub his legs and then slip her fingers up his shorts, pull out his dick and play with it. He would usually get hard and she would let it come to rest on her lips and face and submit it to occasional kisses. She wanted sex every night. Sometimes he gave it to her and sometimes he didn't. I can see how he controlled her this way and became the object of her worship. Sometimes she would play with his dick half the night without getting fucked. She even allowed him to fuck her up the ass whenever he wanted and that was quite often. They made it no secret that she never left his dick alone. She sometimes groped him through his pants in front of friends before he pushed her hand away. He once commented to a group of us that if the police ever wanted Francine's fingerprints they would just dust his dick for them. Once the three of us shared a hotel and he lay on their bed in just his boxers while she put her head on his tummy. The lights were on at this time. I was watching them furtively through the mirror. I don't know if she was aware of this or not. Sure enough her hand went up his shorts to play with his dick. I could clearly see what she was doing and his balls were plainly visible. She whispered something to him more than once. "No," was his reply each time. "You should just show it off!" she finally said and gave up. Later that night with the lights out it was extremely dark but you could still see a tiny bit. Travis launched a couple surprise tickle attacks on Francine and finally my calculated comments prompted him to sneak up on me for a surprise attack. I was in a pair of shorts - he, just boxers. I had my hands all over his firm tummy and sides as we tickle-wrestled. I loved it but pretended to give in to him as Francine had done - making him the tickle champion. This led to a three-way battle where Francine and I ganged up on him. I don't know if they thought I couldn't see or just didn't care but it was obvious to me that as we wrestled Francine had one hand down his boxers and was aggressively rubbing his dick. Not to be left out I slipped my hand down the back of his shorts and unashamedly fondled his adorable smooth little ass. We were all laughing and loving it. I don't know if Francine knew what I was up to or not. I was doing my best to drag Travis' shorts right off him, thinking we were about to properly molest the boy. I figured she would blow him while I rimmed his butt. "Are you guys trying to get me naked?" joked Travis. But this seemed to sober Francine up and the game came sadly to an end. They told me of a couple of their adventures - of her daring Travis to run to the end of their 3rd floor apartment building hallway and back - stark naked. He did it. Another time she lured him naked on to the balcony. She stood behind him, pushed him to the rail's edge and reached around and held out his dick for the 'world' to see, not that they reported any audience. I showed up at the apartment one time at about 4:30 PM. I was expected. Travis answered the door wearing pajama bottoms and a hard-on. Nothing else. He stood sideways as he opened the door for me. I couldn't miss the tent in his PJ's. He was totally hard. It was sticking almost straight up - roughly 10 degrees from his tummy. I sat on the couch to wait for him to get ready. We were going out. He walked back and forth in front of me a couple times for no apparent reason - the tent from his woody plainly on display. I'm still not sure how to interpret all this. Another time at his place I made a phone call on his behalf while he was in the bathroom getting ready to go out. I can't remember the nature of the call but the merchant needed more information than I knew. Travis had just finished showering and was still in the bathroom. I called him to the phone. He marched up to me naked, his dick semi-erect. He took the phone from me and talked briefly. I scratched his back then drifted south rubbing his smooth bare butt. I was delighted he let me do that without objection (not the first or last time for that) but I was upset with myself later that I didn't make a grab for his semi- hard dick. * Our last sports trip was a marathon. Neither of us had ever been to California and I had many relatives out there. We went for two weeks. We stayed a few nights at hotels but mostly with family. My relatives all mistakenly assumed that Travis was my lover and bunked us in shared beds even though some of them had large enough houses to board us separately. I certainly didn't complain. Every night as we prepared for bed I rubbed his feet and kissed them. We were fairly moderate in our drinking and so he never properly passed out - thus I had no opportunity to covertly explore his dick. One night near the end of our stay we returned to the hotel late. We undressed for bed and I went to the bathroom. When I came out I was shocked to see Travis lying on the bed, face down, stark naked! I sat beside him and scratched his back. He said nothing. I let the scratching migrate into a back massage. He still said nothing. I continued down, briefly rubbing his naked ass, then his legs and feet. Then back up I went and rubbed his smooth butt some more. He still was silent though I'm sure he was awake. I went crazy on his firm little ass. I kissed his butt cheeks several times. I finally spread his cheeks and thrust my tongue between them, rimming him properly. Finally he began to move, turning on to his side. I was thrilled the time had come. He was going to let me blow him. But no. He squirmed out from under me, pulled back the covers and climbed under them. I moved out of his way. "Good night," was all he said. The next morning I awoke late and turned on the TV. It was September 11. There on the news was an image of the torn Pentagon, smoke drifting from its' side. "Jesus Christ!" I yelped. Travis awoke at this. "Someone bombed the Pentagon!" Little did we know. Soon we were looking at more images. A familiar tower was collapsing to the ground. I literally did not believe my eyes. A demolished World Trade Centre could not exist in my reality. My brain just wouldn't process it. "That's what we get for electing Bush," Said Travis bitterly. "That's what we get for going out in the world and fucking with everybody." I was hurt by those words. I don't think he'd ever offended me before. 'You don't even vote!' I felt like yelling at him but I said nothing. I loved him. I could never criticize him out loud. I could only love him. That's the kind of sucker I am. We sat and watched the TV all morning, slowly coming to accept a new reality. We were supposed to fly home in a couple days. We were getting concerned about that. I wanted to see the flight tickets. Travis said they were in his gym bag. I got out of bed and searched the bag. He tried to direct me to the right pocket. I couldn't find them anywhere. Finally he got frustrated and jumped out of bed to find them himself. He was still naked. And he was hard. Very hard. Not quite all the way - not locked against his belly as I'd seen before as he slept. But it seemed full size and bobbed around a little higher than horizontal. I was on my knees. He stood right in front of me. The gym bag was on top of the low dresser and he stooped over to rummage through it. His hard-on bobbed before me. I just stared at it. Travis either didn't know, or wouldn't admit that I'd ever seen his naked erection before. "Take a good look," he muttered, "You'll never see it again." I did more than look. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around it. "Can I help you?" he snapped at me. He was objecting to my touch but didn't pull away. My mind was a fog of sorrow, anger, love and lust. "I want to make you come," I croaked and leaned forward, mouth open. The head of that beautiful dick hit my tongue. I tried to close my lips around it. I tried to swallow him whole. I yearned to worship his body the best way I knew how. But he pulled away and I let him go. He crawled back under the covers. We said nothing. I'd gone too far. I sat on the floor and fought the urge to cry. Finally I got up and headed for bed. I hoped this whole morning was all a fucked up dream and I would later awaken from it. I sat on the side of my bed looking at Travis. His beautiful face was looking at the ceiling. I moved to his side. I swept his dark hair from his forehead and kissed him gently there. "I love you, Travis. My heart is breaking for you." The tears fell. Travis's arm came out from under the covers. He gently cupped his hand around my forearm. "I know. It's okay. Everything's okay." I knew he was right. Despite all the complications he was my true best friend. My beautiful little heterosexual Adonis was my best friend and everything was going to be okay. **** Feedback most welcome! If you enjoyed reading my little biography please let me know. thegarg0yle@hotmail.com [Note the '0' in garg0yle is a zero!] *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 37