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Warning, this story may contain explicit descriptions of sexual acts between boys of various ages and/or men and boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now.
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Part V
By Chris Carr
Copyright �
That crash outside the window, I recalled suddenly angered. I sat up, glaring at him in the darkness. Lyle lay on his side, his eyes blinking in the darkness as he stared at me.
"Li’l snoop," I snapped. "What’s up with you, hiding…"
"Why I cain’t be in the club?" Lyle interrupted.
Stunned, my mouth fell open. With all the boys at my disposal, I’d never considered Lyle. I mean, after all, he was my cousin. But he’d been instrumental in starting the whole thing, I debated. Had not Lyle partnered with me to coerce the first boys to change in front of us instead of ducking into the bathroom, I probably wouldn’t have came up with the idea for the club.
Glancing over at him, I continued pondering. I guess I’d never thought of Lyle that way. He was just a pesky relative. A boy who happened to stay with us on several occasions. And the emphasis was on boy. I hadn’t even considered Lyle as sexual, let alone interested in boys.
He was still staring at me, laying calmly on his side. I threw the covers on my bed back and padded quietly over to his bed. He gladly scooted over, holding the covers open until I slipped under them.
We lay next to each other, sensing the warmth of our bodies, gazing at each other until I reached under the covers for his dick. Yanking my hand back, I gawked at the little devil, the moment my hand discovered his nakedness. Save his white T-shirt, he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. I threw the covers back and gawked. Lyle grinned at me, his little boy prick sticking straight up. Little freak, I thought.
I’d rarely observed it but as I gazed at his hardness that night I acknowledged that Lyle’s dick was going to be big when he got older. At twelve it stood a proud five and half inches from his groin. There wasn’t one hair on his slim pelvis and, for some reason, that made me hot.
I slipped my hand around his little hard post and stroked. A big smile on his face, Lyle propped up on his elbows to watch. I think he was getting off more on being one of the big boys than what I was doing to his dick. Did he have an idea what was supposed to happen? Besides, what happened when a twelve year old got off anyway? As if he’d been reading my mind Lyle queried,
"That stuff gon’ come out?" I hunched my shoulders and we both stared at his dick.
"Feel good?" I whispered, slipping my hand around the knobbed head of his slim boy stick. He nodded his head yes, his mouth gapped open in typical boy fashion. "Close your mouth boy, you gonna let in flies," My mom used to say, taunting me for gawking at the TV. I almost expected a line of drool to drop from Lyle’s bottom lip.
"This what you did with Melvin?"
His svelte pelvis wiggling in delight I gazed at him, those inquisitive, round eyes fully trusting. I silently nodded yes in the dark, watching his turgid tool writhe and swell. You know, as I think back, Lyle wasn’t that bad looking. Matter of fact, he was rather cute. Sort of like Jeremy Suarez, that kid on the Bernie Mac show, except, older and without the glasses.
Lyle breathed through his mouth, his respirations raspy, his small bird chest rising and falling rapidly. I kept having to spit in my hand to lube his tube because he wasn’t old enough to leak yet but he was thoroughly enjoying it.
"Tickles," He gasped, wiggling about. His little toes were wiggling also, bending and curling, then spreading. I gazed at his slim figure, certain I’d have no problem finding the right combination to get off now but didn’t touch my dick.
"Now?" Lyle rasped, his hips gyrating.
"You feel it?" I returned wondering if maybe he could cum. He hunched his shoulders, a grimace on is face.
"It tickles, Sonny." Confused, I wondered if it was supposed to tickle? Watching his curved spear for signs it was about to blow, I was surprised when Lyle giggled, then gasped, his eyes widening to saucers.
"Pee!" He yelped, sitting up. Flinging his leg over mine, he bolted for the bathroom.
"Wait!" I said, still holding his quivering rigidity. I slipped my hand quickly around the head, squeezing and massaging it. Lyle gasped again, his eyes frantic. He pees and we’re fucked, I gambled, stroking him closer and closer to whatever he was sensing. A look of sheer terror on his face he popped his pelvis upward, gasping and panting.
"Oh Sonny," he pleaded, panicked. His slender sword swelled in my hand and he grunted, his eyes squeezing shut. His toes folded down atop his smooth soles and I watched in wonder as a small droplet of clear, syrupy stuff gushed out.
"What’s that??" Lyle chirped, peering curiously at the leaking substance. "Is that it?!"
Equally hypnotized by his strange issue, I stared at the liquid, silent. Must be boy cum, I surmised, squeezing his rigid growth with my stroking hand. Lyle was so excited, I couldn’t bear disappointing him so I nodded my head.
"I did like the big boys?" He exclaimed, a smile on his cherub like face. Shushing him, I shook my head up and down again. Lyle gushed, beaming like a proud, hall-of-famer. He’d apparently got what he was looking for and I didn’t press him for details about what his first nutt felt like. Hell, Lyle probably didn’t even realize that’s what the whole club was about. He was one of the big boys now and that made him happy so I let it be.
The summer was just starting to heat up when I met Caesar. An average looking boy with coal black hair, and olive brown skin, he was our token Hispanic. Sure Caesar wasn’t that much to look at but he rung my bell. I think it was the novelty of it all. The way his hair would plaster to his head when he swam in the pool. Or that he wasn’t quite light brown, like the fair skin Black boys I knew nor dark brown but a smooth, tan brown.
What would he look like naked, I’d wonder, stroking myself at night. He was a constant fascination to me, from his lilting accent to his strange, straight hair. Before long, I was spending most of my time with Caesar, which is why we ended up behind that bush in my back yard that day.
It was my favorite hiding space for Hide-And-Go-Seek because no one knew it existed. Especially not Alex, who was ‘it’ that day. Hunched behind the shrub’s growth, it wasn’t long before I took note of how close Caesar and I were standing. His smooth arms brushing against mine, chills ran up my backside and down my ever eager dick.
Hey, why hadn’t I did it with Caesar, I suddenly wondered, looking at him? He smiled at me, content to be included, none the wiser. I moved a little closer, pressing more of my flesh against his, still trying to figure why I’d never thought of him that way. Then I felt that familiar tugging and realized that, to me, Caesar was special. He wasn’t like the other boys in the gang. He was different.
Fuck it up with him and I’d never get to see a Hispanic boy’s dick. Besides, were Hispanic boys the same as Black boys? Did they think about sex all the time? Were they willing to mix it up with a friend or would their Priest ban them from the church and to an eternal damnation? What was I talking about, that’s exactly what Rev. Williams would’ve done to me, had he found out!
All of that thinking was just making me hornier and before I knew it, my hand had moved closer and closer to Caesar’s bare leg. Neither of us moved when it fondled his exposed thigh nor said anything when it moved up his shorts, towards his concealed dick. Ok, I may have faked like I was checking for Alex, the dummy who’d never find us, but it was a smooth move.
Caesar stared straight ahead, my hand so far up his shorts there was no avoiding it now. I fumbled beneath his clothes, our position awkward until I found his treasure, then froze. It shouldn’t have surprised me but, at that age, every thing was new and discovering that Caesar was hard sent a thrill through me. Caesar mixed it up with the boys like us, I concluded, caressing his bounding boy hardness.
Damn, if only I’d done this earlier, I thought, turning slightly to find a better position. Caesar turned also and I almost leapt out my skin. But I’ll be damned if he wasn’t turning to get more of his dick into my hand.
Emboldened by his move, I reached down with both hands and unfastened his shorts. Let’s see, I was fifteen so…. that must’ve made Caesar about fourteen. I know because Caesar and I became somewhat an item in High School but, that’s another story.
My eyes widening, I watched as Caesar’s dick sprang free, my first glimpse of Hispanic chorizo. A hefty sausage, it stood proudly from the boy’s groin, the head covered in a warm pointy sheath. I stared at it, then looked at him and he grinned at me with smug confidence. Not bad, his face seemed to be saying and I had to agree.
There was a commotion at the side gate, Alex arguing with one of the boys that he’d saw him first but he hadn’t even entered the back yard yet so I felt safe. Slipping my hand around Caesar’s hardness, I marveled as he reacted the same way the other boys had. God! When I think back on it, I was so na�ve! What was I expecting him to do, grow a second dick or fire green gas?
I was busy stroking his five inches when Alex ducked his head around the club house. But neither of us saw him, both caught up in the excitement. Caesar held his shirt up high and away from his writhing length, his eyes closed, while I stared at it, waiting for the prize. It wasn’t until Alex stumbled over one of our bikes we realized he was in the back yard.
We immediately froze, our eyes focused on him wandering around the yard. But he never saw us and soon darted out the side gate. I looked at Caesar and he smiled at me, his dick still in my hand. "You like it?" I had to ask, skinning back the foreskin to reveal the moist, swollen head. He nodded his head yes with a leer I’d never seen from any of the other boys.
In minutes he was hissing and quivering, his dick extra hard in my hand. With a soft shriek, he danced on his toes and delivered, spurting handily on the leaves of the bush before us. It wasn’t that much but it was truly fascinating, observing his white issue, dangling from the leaves of that bush.
He never mentioned the club nor rights to membership, now that he’d done the deed and I never brought it up to any of the other boys. Like I said, Caesar was special and I wanted him all to myself.
The next person to challenge the club record wasn’t really out to break it. Sean, the dark skinned boy from up the block, was really getting his second try at one of ol’ Sonny’s handjobs when it happened.
Like I said, Sean was dark skinned. No, I mean really, really dark. Dark as midnight dark. Which is weird because I don’t usually go for the dark types. Call me prejudice but my attraction usually runs to the more fair skinned to medium brown types. But Sean was really cool and he took to us like fish to a water.
Sean could swim. Backstroke, breaststroke, dog paddle, you name it, he could do it. Don’t ask me where he learned to do all that but we used to watch in wonder as he’d make laps back and forth across our pool, head down, feet kicking high. Sean even came equipped with his own gear. Goggles, paddle board, fins, even a snorkel! It was like watching a deep sea diver the way he’d duck under water with his snorkel tube traveling above.
Like Caesar, I was strangely drawn to Sean, his sleek, ebony skin exotically alluring. Sean was so dark, we used to make jokes about him at night. "Where’d he go?" Someone would taunt. And my favorite, "Smile Sean so we can see you."
When he first started hanging out with us, he didn’t have a clue what the boys meant when they mentioned ‘the club’. He’d regard the boy who brought it up with curiosity but held his peace, content to just hang. Besides, if we were in the pool, he’d miss half of what was said anyway, the way he swam.
"You tell him?" Melvin asked one day as Sean made his laps. God damn Melvin was only asking because he didn’t want anyone else challenging his record. He was still smarting behind word Jeffery had topped his time but he wouldn’t ask for a repeat. Probably chicken, I thought.
I didn’t have to tell Sean, it turns out. We were sitting around talking one day when he just popped the question.
"What’s the club?" He asks, reclining back on his hands. We’d just finished a lap around the neighborhood on our bikes. No sooner we’d come back, Lyle dropped his bike and ran into the house, holding himself like he might pee before he got there. Funny. You know, Lyle slept with me in the same room every night and I can’t remember us doing anything more after that night. I think I was establishing the pattern of my behavior then. That is, the thrill of the conquest. To this day, I still get off more on first times than I do repeated encounters.
Anyway, we were sitting on the grass and Sean pops the question. I looked at him, trying to size him up. I’d never had a boy reject our little secret society but you could never tell. I was still amazed Randy wanted in, let alone Melvin.
Sean seemed like most of the other boys in our group. The type that hadn’t even discovered sex yet because they were too busy being boys still. You know, playing football and wrestling each other and shit. And spitting!
Sean had even matched Melvin in boxing. Punch for punch, he shadowed him, slapping him more than once about the head. Oh yeah… we didn’t really "box". I would’ve had to beat the shit outta Melvin if he’d actually hit me. We sort of, ‘slap’ boxed, substituting open handed licks about the head and face for fists.
Melvin would look like a wet dog, once Sean was through with him. It was the only time his big mouth wasn’t shooting off. We’d have a field day with him too, laughing and taunting him. He’d play it off, claiming that he was just trying to go easy on the new kid but he didn’t take Sean on that much either.
"Why, what’ve you heard?" I finally returned. Sean hunched his shoulders, looking idly off into the distance. Hmm, he’d heard something, I surmised. I waited until finally, he glanced up at me, then looked away. Now, like I said, Sean was black as the ace of spades but I swear it looked like he was blushing.
"You wanna get in?" Again, he hunched his shoulders.
I’m trying to think back now, but, if my memory serves me right, I don’t remember having to actually tell a kid what the club was about. The club took care of itself and somehow, each of the boys just knew what they were getting into. That wasn’t the case with Sean, however.
A week later, and he still as clueless as before. I could tell because he still had that curious look on his face whenever one of the boys mentioned it. Was it because he wasn’t interested? Should I have been worried that, for the first time, we had a dissenter among us? Or was he just too slow to catch on?
To be continued....
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