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From: "Decent" <decent@hush.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Kindergarten Cousins Discover A Secret Place (bb mast oral)
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Date: Tue, 24 Mar 2009 21:10:04 -0400
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Title: Kindergarten Cousins Discover A Secret Place (bb mast oral)
Author: decent@hush.com

This is the second part in a series.

The following is a work of fiction based on actual events. The 
names, places, and descriptions have been changed for the sake of 
privacy and better story-telling. The author retains all commercial 
rights, however you are granted permission to reproduce and 
distribute the work for non-commercial purposes, provided that the 
work is kept intact, including the title, author, introduction, and 
license information. 

I've spent many hours composing this story; if you enjoy it please 
be kind enough to spend a minute letting me know! Of course, your 
email address and correspondence will be burned after reading. 
Enjoy. -- (D)

------------------------

My mom kept us from getting bored in the car by driving fast. 
People didn't wear seatbelts back then, so on the way home from K-
Mart Joey and I slid across the vinyl upholstered bench in the 
back, two tow-headed five-year-old boys gleefully bumping into each 
other at every turn. 

Mom tapped the brakes as she veered onto our road, and gravel 
popped beneath the tires as we bounced past the overgrown fence 
between our road and the neighbor's farm. At the end of the lane 
she swung it wide and whipped the car into the driveway, kicking up 
a cloud of dust. 

My two-year-old cousin had fallen asleep on the front seat, and 
after she parked the car Mom scooped up the toddler along with her 
shopping bags and headed for the house. Joey and I clambered over 
the front seat and tumbled out through the driver's side door 
behind her. Joey hit the ground at a sprint, and I chased him 
across the lawn, laughing delightedly. My lithe cousin flitted over 
the grass, bending the fresh blades beneath his feet, and then made 
a tight loop around the oak tree. 

He made the sound of a racecar as he zoomed by me going the other 
way. I picked the game up immediately, made the sound of my own 
tires squealing as I came around the tree, and then, as I entered 
the straight-away, answered his growling eight-cylinder sound-
effect with the high-pitched whine of a Kawasaki dirt bike running 
wide open.

Although we were nearly the same age I was sturdier and taller than 
my cousin; I pumped my legs furiously and the gap between us began 
to close. I was planning my victory lap when he made the noise of a 
Ferrari shifting gears and effortlessly pulled away from me again.  
 

I let out an inarticulate roar of frustration, ignored the frantic 
thumping in my chest and willed myself to run even faster.  

Mom's Dodge was now a looming obstacle just ahead. Joey drove to 
the left, and I cut the corner, gaining a few steps on the smaller 
boy. He shot a glance over his shoulder in time to catch me 
cheating, and gave a sly grin. Now all bets were off. With a 
screech of his brakes, he did an about-face and shot off in the 
opposite direction, his arms pumping at his sides. I burned rubber 
after him. Nonetheless, he was well ahead of me when he headed 
around the back of my Mom's car. 

I didn't see it, but he must have taken the turn too fast and lost 
his footing on the loose gravel of the driveway, because when I 
burst around the corner I nearly tripped over his body, lying face 
down in the dust. His elbows were bent at ninety-degrees, and his 
hands, which he had used to break his fall, were pinned beneath his 
chest.

I stomped to a halt and dropped to my knees beside him. I felt 
sharp gravel poking through the knees of my blue jeans, and 
imagined how it must have hurt when Joey fell on those jagged 
rocks. 

 "Are you okay?" I asked, putting my palms on the ground and 
leaning forward until my cheek was resting on the cool stones 
inches from my cousin's face. I peered at him anxiously, and then 
frowned. Fat tears were squeezing out between the long dark lashes 
of his crunched-shut eyes. His cheeks were slick with them, and his 
thin lips were pulled back from his teeth in a grimace of pain.

"Oh no," I soothed, reaching for him as my mother always did when I 
was hurt. 

"You're okay," I reassured, putting my arm around his shoulder as 
best as I could with him lying on the ground and me kneeling. 

I patted his shoulder a couple of times with my hand, and then 
popped up from the ground and gently commanded, "Let me see." 

Obediently he rolled to face me. I gingerly took his hands in mine, 
palms up. They were scraped and a little bloody. I winced in 
sympathy and said, "Ouch."  

Another tear came out and rolled down his face, but it was smaller, 
and now he seemed more composed.  

"Want me to get Mom?" I piped in my clear childish register. 

Joey shook his head. 

"Want me to help?" I offered.

He nodded. 

I put a hand under his shoulder and helped him into a sitting 
position, then I hooked one arm under him and we stood up together. 
He rubbed the tears off his face with the back of one hand, and 
then briefly checked his knees and elbows for other injuries. 

Finding that there were none, he turned down a band-aid, and when I 
suggested washing the blood off out at the pump the last remnants 
of his crying disappeared from his face and he answered eagerly, 
"I'll race you!" 

And just like that we stormed off together towards the backyard. We 
galloped around the side of my house, with its peeling white wood 
siding and green awnings, shot past the picnic table my Dad had 
built before I could remember, and then briefly separated, to run 
on opposite sides of the rough stone fireplace where we cooked 
outside in the summer. On the other side I fell in behind my cousin 
again, and together we crossed into the permanent shadow beneath 
the big weeping willow that hosted our swing and our tree house. On 
our right, across from the willow was the battered little shed that 
Joey's father had converted into a makeshift apartment for their 
family of three.  

As we ran, Joey leapt up and snatched at one of the wispy low-
hanging willow branches with his slender fingers, missing it by an 
inch. 

"You missed," I cried, jumping up and reaching for the same branch. 
I chimed, "Ha! I got it!" when my hand connected. 

 "No fair," Joey shot over his shoulder, as we burst out from 
beneath the shade tree and into the dazzling sunlight of a clear 
spring afternoon, "You're taller."

Joey's hair, which had been clipped very short when he came to live 
with us, was now getting longer.  We were both perspiring a little, 
and the short blond hairs on the back of his head were clinging to 
themselves in damp little spikes. In the front it bounced and 
swished as he ran, blowing back from a face that was boyishly round 
but not babyish.

We ran. 

The start of kindergarten in the fall was part of a future so 
distant that it seemed like science fiction. This was real: 
sprinting past the freshly turned rows of my mom's vegetable 
garden, our skins bronzed by the carefree weeks we idled through as 
if fine spring days were in never-ending supply.

I followed my cousin as he bounded down the path that started 
between our two little cherry trees and ended at the stubbly row of 
four o'clock's marking the furthest edge of our yard. Beyond, in 
the middle of the large mown field belonging to the old couple at 
the end of the street, was the old rusty pump. It stood like a 
solitary sentinel halfway between the end of my family's property 
and the tall grass of the States wooded acres.

As we approached the pump I put on speed and strained my arms out 
ahead of me, hoping I might catch hold of the yellow and white 
striped fabric of the other boy's shirt. He laughed gleefully and 
pulled ahead just enough to stay out of my reach. I growled in mock 
frustration as he crossed the finish line first. We thudded to a 
halt, then turned to face the pump and leaned over, both of us 
gulping air.  

Joey straightened up first, and announced with a grin, "I beat 
you." 

I smiled back at him admiringly. I was convinced that Joey was the 
fastest kid on earth. "But I almost caught you, right?" I panted. 

"You're getting better," he conceded.

His encouragement gave me a good feeling. My little smile broadened 
into a grin.  

Joey smiled back and then stuck his scraped-up hands under the 
spigot. I took hold of the flaky brown metal pump handle. Although 
I would not be six until December, my biceps were already firm from 
tree-climbing and rough-housing. They stood out in visible cords as 
I gripped the stubborn lever with both hands, and pulled hard. It 
wouldn't budge. Groaning, I pulled harder, hanging all of my forty-
five pounds on the ornery thing and tugging until finally, with a 
loud metallic squeal it began to move.  Cold water sputtered and 
burst from the spout in gushes.

"It was stuck," I said, beginning to pump the handle up and down 
rhythmically. 

"Good thing I had you," Joey said enthusiastically. That made me 
smile. 

Joey's expression was unusually serious as he scrubbed drying 
flakes of blood off of his palms. When they were clean, he splashed 
water on his face and then stuck his head under the spigot to catch 
a few gulps in his mouth. He said, "Ah," after each swallow. When 
he was done we traded places and he worked the lever while I drank 
and cooled my forehead.

When we were both refreshed, we inspected Joey's hands together. 
They were scuffed up but not bleeding anymore. Satisfied, he 
grinned and threw an arm around my back, pulling me roughly to his 
side in a half-hug. "Thanks, Buddy," he said through a grin. I put 
an arm over his shoulder and returned his embrace.  

He was warm, and our bodies fit together as comfortably as two 
puzzle pieces. This was our "buddy" pose; a wordless expression of 
fraternal connection. "We belong to each other", the gesture said, 
and "we want the world to know it."  

Our arms stayed hooked around each other like that for a little 
ways as we dawdled off towards the back field. 

We spent the next hour entertaining ourselves. The apple tree had 
little hard green fruit on it, and we had a contest to see who 
could throw one furthest. Then we chased a rabbit into the brush 
and hunted around for his hole. We got distracted looking at bugs, 
and wandered further into the woods. Ending up at the fence by the 
freeway, we threw rocks at the billboard for a while. Then we 
hopped over the chain-link barrier to collect cattails from the 
shores of the drainage ditch beside the four-lane road.  

We climbed back to the right side of the fence a hundred yards 
further down, and pretended to be explorers forging a new trail in 
an untamed wilderness. We got sticks to use as machetes and chopped 
our way along until we came to an area where the brush was so thick 
we had to squeeze our little bodies through one at a time on hands 
and knees. On the other side, we emerged into a natural clearing. 

The undiscovered glade felt exotic and mysterious. It was ringed 
with trees and blanketed with thick grasses that were nearly as 
tall as a man's waist. The grass reached our armpits and made 
sizzling sounds against our clothes as we waded through it. 

"I think we're the first people to find this place," I chirped 
excitedly.
 
 "Me too," Joey replied, staying close to me as I pressed ahead, 
parting the tall grass with my hands.

When we got near the center of the dell, I threw myself down on my 
back to rest. The tall grass leaned over beneath me like straw 
bedding, and I laced my fingers together behind my head. Joey laid 
down perpendicular to me, settling his head on my belly so he could 
use me for a pillow. He snagged a long piece of grass to chew on 
and I copied him, tasting sweetness when I crushed the stem between 
my teeth.  

There were things we called hot-bugs, because they buzzed like 
crazy when the weather was warm. I chewed my stem of grass 
thoughtfully, and listened to them. They could go on for a long 
time. 

I was thinking about how Joey put his head on my belly without even 
asking and then stayed there like it was the most comfortable place 
in the world. "I like that", I thought,  as I picked a bit of stray 
grass out of his hair and flicked it away. 

When the insects fell silent I could hear the soft swelling and 
fading of car tires as people came and went on the freeway fifty 
yards away. From a distance it sounded a little like waves lapping 
on a shore. I imagined us alone on an island, with the sea just 
beyond the trees. 

I said confidently, "No strangers out here." 

"Nope," Joey agreed, absently scratching at his ankle as a little 
bird chirped unmusically from a nearby tree.

Joey said, "When's your brother get home?"

Neither I nor Joey had yet learned to tell time. We never had any 
notion of what o'clock it was, nor of which o'clock it was supposed 
to be when different things happened. We wandered in and out of the 
house more or less at will; coming home when it started raining or 
getting dark or because we were hungry, bored, hot, or tired. If we 
were needed sooner, my father stood on the back step with the belt 
in his hand, whistled through his fingers just once, and then 
looked disappointed if you robbed him of the chance to whip you 
half-to-death by getting back quicker than the three minutes he 
allowed.  

Right now the sun was high and to the left. Dad wouldn't be back 
until practically dusk. That made my obnoxious older brother the 
only person who might actually bother to come in the woods looking 
for us. And he wouldn't get home from school until after the sun 
moved to the right and started getting lower.

"Long time --"  I answered absently, having nearly forgotten the 
question. 

Dads and brothers were dangerous unpredictable things, and thinking 
about them made you anxious and forgetful. I tried to think about 
something else.

Joey replied, "Just you and me I guess." 

I seized on that comfortable thought and gave a satisfied little 
sigh.

"Yeah," I agreed contentedly. 

Now I was thinking about Joey's voice and how I liked listening to 
it. It was higher than mine, and he had an accent that I associated 
with people who lived near my grandfather's farm. That was a long 
ways away. Everyone around here just talked normal. 

Joey swatted something on his arm, and I thought, "Joey is 
different from everybody else." I liked that too.

A while later I said, "That girl come over;" meaning my uncle's 
girlfriend. 

I hadn't caught on to her name, but she was the only girl that ever 
came over. 

"Yeah," Joey agreed, picking a fresh blade of grass to chew on. 

The only time I had ever spent the night with Joey in the shed I'd 
seen her and my uncle doing all kinds of dirty stuff. I could still 
imagine her little naked boobs bouncing around while my uncle 
pumped himself inside of her. And I could imagine Joey and me doing 
our own dirty stuff too. I liked imagining those things, as I did 
quite often lately.

 "They do anything dirty?" I asked hopefully.

"Nah," Joey replied, "Just a lot of kissing," 

I was disappointed. I watched the clouds and tried to think about 
something besides boobs and wieners. 

A minute later I said hesitantly, "You want to do something dirty?"

Instead of answering right away, Joey sat up quietly and twisted 
around to face me. He was sitting on his butt with both legs off to 
one side, leaning on one hand. The leg on his corduroys was pulled 
up a little on one side, and I could see that he wasn't wearing any 
socks. There was an angry red mosquito bump on his ankle.  He 
reached down and scratched at it, casting his eyes downward in a 
thoughtful pose. I waited curiously for him to compose his words. 

"You know before," he started carefully, "when your thing was 
like;" he stopped speaking and poked his index finger out at me, 
letting it bend and stiffen four times in a row to depict the 
pulsing contractions my penis had made in his mouth during my 
climax. 

I frowned and turned my eyes away from him.

I knew I had done that, but I'd thought about it and decided it was 
an embarrassing thing. For one, I hadn't noticed Joey doing it, and 
that meant it was something strange. For another, I couldn't 
control it, and that was something babyish, like my stupid brother 
wetting the bed. I stared down at my lap and gave a little shrug. I 
wanted to talk about something else.

But Joey had apparently also given the matter some thought. My 
response must have confirmed some suspicion that he had been 
harboring, because it triggered a little outburst.

"It hurt," he blurted out emphatically, curling his lips back in 
disgust while his eyes widened into an expression of anxiety and 
confusion. He leaned forward and put a compassionate hand on my 
arm, adding, with horrified emphasis on the last word, "a lot." 

His little eyebrows drew together in an elegant expression of 
sorrow and pity. He paused and took a deep breath, bracing himself 
to say something heavy. 

"When you were --" he began.

I was still stuck on the first thing he'd said: The little spasms 
had been strange, but not at all painful; in fact just the opposite.

I interrupted him. "What?" I demanded incredulously. 

He ignored me, and started again. 

"When you were going," he began, gesturing with his fist to 
indicate how I had masturbated him, "I felt that thing going to 
happen," he said, and having no word for the thing he'd felt 
stirring, stopped and again mimed a series of spasmodic penile 
convulsions with his index finger. 

I nodded, a little less embarrassed now that I knew he'd felt it 
too.

"I felt it," he repeated, "but I stopped you --"

His voice trailed off, and he turned his face down to watch his 
fidgeting hands.

I stared at him, not sure how to respond. Sounding ashamed, he 
hurried through the rest of what he had to say.

"And then I did stuff to you," he admitted, "and I knew that thing 
would happen but when you wanted me to stop I didn't listen." 

He drew his face into an expression that was as somber as a 
funeral, and concluded, "I just wanted to see what happens. I 
didn't know it would be so bad."

I studied him for a long quiet moment, working this new problem in 
my head. He stared at his hands gloomily and waited. 

I was more than a little relieved to know that Joey had felt the 
same undeniable contractions building in his body. On the other 
hand it seemed he had been going around for days thinking he had 
hurt me so bad I could never forgive him. The pained look of guilt 
and worry on his face was obviously completely sincere, and yet the 
idea was so silly and misguided I couldn't quite believe he took it 
seriously.

I felt like hugging him and laughing in his face all at the same 
time. 

 I started to smile.

Joey glared at me, annoyed. "It's not funny!" he insisted seriously.

This caused my grin to widen contagiously. After a second or two 
Joey's face began to involuntarily soften from anger to confused 
bewilderment. 

Smiling sheepishly, he cried "What?!" pleading in a tone of 
bewildered amusement to be let in on the joke. My heart felt like 
it would burst with love for this gentle boy.

It dawned on me that when we had done those dirty things Joey had 
missed out on very best part, and he didn't even know it. 

My next thought made me giddy with excitement: I was going to give 
Joey something so amazingly good he'd never even dreamed of asking 
for it! I was so happy I felt like running in circles. 

Barely containing my joy, I sat bolt upright and stared at my 
cousin, beaming.

This heightened his curiosity to a maddening level. He leaned 
forward, put his warm little hands on my forearm, and pleaded 
"Please, tell me!" 

His expression was so adorable I couldn't contain myself; I 
launched myself at him with a roar of ecstatic glee. He brought his 
hands up to fend me off a moment too late. I seized his wrists and 
we toppled backwards onto the grass, both of us laughing as my legs 
straddled his hips and I pinned his arms neatly above his head. 

Smiling and still confused, the smaller boy strained against me. It 
was no use. I had him.

I tickled. 

I started under his arms and then moved down to his small flat 
belly. I could feel warmth radiating off of him as he bucked and 
writhed under me, frantically trying to fend off my wriggling 
fingers between nearly hysterical giggles. He always laughed so 
hard and never tried too hard to get away. I really liked that. 

Between his squeals of delight I said mockingly, "Oh! It hurts! It 
kills!"

After a few seconds I quit tickling and grabbed his wrists. I 
suddenly made a serious face to match the one he used when he was 
apologizing. "Since you hurt me," I began, forcing his arms back 
and pinning them to the ground again,"Can I hurt you?" 

He quit struggling. His big blue eyes stared up at me and his long 
dark lashes batted at me three times. Incredulous, he said, 
"Really?" 

I gave a very serious nod, as the hot-bugs started singing again. 
"Let me do the same thing to you," I clarified, "So we're even." 

He considered this. Looking wounded he said, "You want to?" 
emphasizing the middle word in a tone of incredulity.  

I nodded ominously.

He sighed and went limp. He lay quietly for several moments, 
weighing the proposal. Finally he asked uneasily, "Will you tell me 
what it feels like first?" 

I carefully considered my answer. 

"It feels --" I began slowly, leaning closer to him and pausing 
dramatically, as if trying to think of a suitably painful word.  
Joey stared up at me wide eyed, looking worried. Finally, 
pretending I had settled on something properly awful, I made a 
somber face and pronounced " --really really good." 

After a moment of puzzled shock he looked relieved and said, 
"Really?" cocking his head in exaggerated amazement and letting his 
voice rise quizzically at the end. 

"Really, really," I assured curtly, smiling as I let go of his 
wrists and rolled off of him. 

The hot-bugs were quieting down. We both went quiet too for a 
while, just watching a couple little clouds go by and listening to 
the traffic on the highway. 

Joey reached down, scratched at the mosquito bite on his ankle, and 
then rolled onto his side facing me with his head propped on one 
hand.

"I want you to do it," he announced bravely. 

"You do?" I asked, rolling on my side and facing him. 

He grinned with excitement and nodded his head vigorously. "Uh-
hunh."

I grinned too. 

Joey rolled onto his back in the grass and waited. 

I clambered to my knees and regarded the prone figure of my five-
year-old cousin. His face was turned towards me, and he gazed at me 
passively, with his arms lying loosely at his sides, palms 
downward. I noticed that his wrists were straight and thin, unlike 
my own which were still puffy and slightly babyish.

He was making no moves to undress himself, so I reached over and 
lifted the bottom hem of his shirt, baring skin that was pleasantly 
tanned but several shades lighter than his forearms.  The compact 
stomach muscles pressed from within, defining an oval across his 
midriff. Near the center of it was the child's navel: a shallow 
recess with tiny pinkish folds marking an X across the bottom. 

I blew a short raspberry on his bellybutton and he squirmed and 
giggled gleefully for a moment. The contact was brief but 
memorable: his skin was warm and silky against my lips and the 
flesh beneath firm yet supple. It was the closest we ever came to a 
kiss. 

As with most five-year-old boys, Joey and I both found getting 
dressed to be a dull chore, best accomplished carelessly and in 
haste. Belts and zippers were particularly useless formalities 
whose apparent functions were being in the way of using the toilet 
and to giving grown-ups another excuse to chew you out. When Joey's 
little shirt was lifted out of the way it was no surprise to see 
that he hadn't bothered to use either. 

No doubt as a result of this his pants rode so low on his bony hips 
that the bright red elastic of his underwear showed above the 
waistband. Through his wide-open fly I could see the unmistakable 
blue cotton fabric of my favorite Spiderman Underroos. I smiled at 
that; I liked it when Joey borrowed my things.

Using both hands I clumsily undid the snap on his rust colored 
corduroys and pulled the front of them open. Beneath, I could see 
the small prominence that his immature sexual apparatus created 
under the brightly colored cotton of his character underwear. 
Joey's eyes followed my hand as I reached out and carefully cupped 
his little bulge, pressing lightly. It was warm and yielding. I 
stroked him over the blue fabric. 

"It's not hard," I pointed out skeptically, watching my hand move 
in little circles.
 
 "Maybe it doesn't matter," he offered with a shrug..

That sounded reasonable. It was certainly worth a try.

I slid the fingertips of both hands between the red elastic band of 
his underwear and the satiny smoothness of his skin.  Then with 
Joey helping by lifting his butt at approximately the right time, I 
slid his clothing down: first exposing the gentle roundness of his 
bald pubic area, and then working the fabric past the complexities 
of my boy-cousin's undeveloped genitalia. I still struggled a 
little to dress myself, and disrobing someone else felt as awkward 
and backwards as coloring with the opposite hand. His pants and 
underwear twisted together on the way down, making a bulky mess 
that I finally abandoned in frustration just above his knees. 

The area that his bathing suit covered was bounded by three 
horizontal lines; one at his slender waist, and the other two 
cutting across the lean columns of his thighs. Outside of this area 
his muscular flesh was exquisitely golden; within his skin appeared 
pale and somewhat delicate. 

The last time I had seen him naked it had been dark. Now, the sun 
had bathed his slender body in bright light, revealing intriguing 
new details. I explored his nudity with childish patience and 
curiosity.

The other boy's small testicles nestled close together against his 
body; two barely ovular marbles blanketed beneath and cradled 
between the complicated silken folds of his partially translucent 
scrotal skin. His tiny penis dozed peacefully beside them, its 
little pink head pointing down and to the right. 

The elastic of his underwear had left a red squiggle across his 
abdomen. I traced this rosy indentation with my finger, and then 
wandered lower, following the faint blue line of an artery barely 
visible beneath the luminous skin, and enjoying the feel of his 
skin. Finally he allowed me to lightly glide my fingertip over the 
remarkable softness of his penis. It seemed as fragile and helpless 
as a newborn kitten. 

I gently grasped his tiny member between my thumb and forefinger 
and carefully peeled it away from the warm and slightly moist 
membrane of his ball sack. At the moment, the immature organ was 
only as big as the tip of my finger. I pulled upwards, carefully 
stretching his wiener to its maximum flaccid length as I would with 
my own before I peed.  

I had seen that when he was aroused the skin would stretch over his 
erection with little to spare. But right now it was arranged below 
the head of his slumbering sex organ in velvety pleats. I slid the 
skin up over his cap, engulfing it until only his pee-hole was 
showing. I pushed down again, and the head popped back out with its 
little slit momentarily gaping from the pressure of my fingers. I 
marveled at it as I worked the skin back and forth several times. 
When I released it I could see the organ lengthening before my 
eyes. Amazed, I brought my face down closer to observe.

From my new angle the brilliant morning sun revealed that the 
child's sexual apparatus was not quite completely hairless: I could 
discern minute blond hairs bristling softly from the satiny creases 
of his scrotum and from the bare skin at the root of his penis.

Fascinated, I sighted through one eye and grazed the tops of these 
tiniest hairs with a fingertip, using the lightest touch possible. 
My finger could not detect their existence but my eye could 
perceive each little hair disturbed in turn by my touch. The 
softness of this caress gave the boy a shiver and he popped out in 
gooseflesh clear up to his arms, eliciting delighted giggles from 
us both. 

After this amusing distraction I returned to important business. I 
held my boy-cousin's un-aroused penis upright with my thumb and 
forefinger and ran my tongue in circles against the tip of the soft 
pink head. 

"Woo," Joey said, as if he had dipped his toes into cold water. 

His skin tasted faintly of salt, and carried the faded scent of 
yesterday evenings bubble bath.

As a little breeze hissed through the tall grass around us, I 
moistened my tongue and slicked it up, over and across his penis 
several times, before abruptly slurping his wet little organ into 
my mouth. I sucked lightly while rolling the fleshy member over, 
around, and under my tongue again and again. Joey's legs stiffened 
and I felt his penis rapidly expanding inside my mouth.

In seconds it was too long and firm to twirl like bubble gum 
anymore.  

I slid it out of my mouth and chirped excitedly "It's getting 
bigger!" 

Joey gazed down over his belly, marveling at his rapidly expanding 
partial erection. 

I wrapped my lips around the end and sucked hard, licking quick 
circles over the head.  

Joey made a sound that started as a plaintive moan and ended with 
him saying "Stop, stop, stop."  On the third repetition he sat up 
and pushed my head away with both hands. 

His cock slid out of my mouth. "Let me do it," I grinned 
enthusiastically.

He complained, "It's tickling," and sat up the rest of the way. His 
yellow striped tee-shirt fell over his belly, covering his hard-on. 

I pushed the fabric aside. His rod was almost fully erect. Rising 
three-inches above his bare pubic mound, it leaned forward 
slightly, glistening with my saliva and nodding drunkenly with each 
beat of his heart. 

I encircled his slender shaft with my thumb and forefinger and slid 
this fleshy ring over his slippery half-erect cock. 

Joey said, "Yeah, do that." 

So I did. 

Soon he leaned back, resting his weight partially on his arms. I 
faced him cross-legged, with him on my right. 

A breeze ruffled his hair as he quietly watched my hand working his 
tool. I discovered I could keep him slippery by periodically 
wetting my hand with my tongue. 

Soon his rod was fully inflated. The organ resembled an arrow, with 
a straight slender shaft, and a slightly wider head that ended in a 
sharp point. The slit that he peed through was small and positioned 
slightly lower than center. 

I stopped to lick my hand, and Joey said "Mmm," luxuriantly when I 
resumed. 

I made a loose fist around his organ, and then slid upwards, 
letting his prick glide between my gently gripping fingers and the 
wet palm of my hand until the tip popped out at the bottom.  Then I 
reversed directions, pressing first his crown and then the full 
length of his shaft into my fist through the narrow slit between 
pinky and palm. I continued this way, using slight variations until 
abruptly his mouth fell open, and he turned his head to the side, 
smearing his cheek roughly against the ball of his shoulder.

"That," he began hoarsely, as I pulled his stiffened rod through my 
fingers. 

I waited, thinking there was more, but he never finished.  

Finally, I said, "This?" and repeated the movement I thought my 
hand had been doing when he'd spoken.

He closed his eyes, and turned his chin down slightly, cocking one 
ear as if listening. That caused his neck to form an elegant 
vertical line that sloped down gracefully towards his chest. 

I watched for his reaction and noticed his shirt, which was pulled 
carelessly forward and to the side. The large off-center opening of 
his collar barely covered one skinny shoulder and left fully 
exposed the lovely tanned skin that stretched tautly over the 
prominence of his collar bone. This tiny glimpse of partial nudity 
titillated me, and I probed it greedily with my eyes while my hand 
experimented with his tool.

Finally, after trying two other things, Joey rewarded my 
investigations with a soft moan and a brief nod of his head. I had 
encircled his shaft, with my thumb just below the head on the 
underside and my first two fingers curled around the top of his 
swollen cap. Keeping my thumb in one place and using it as a pivot, 
I rocked my hand using small rotating movements of my wrist, 
causing my fingers to slide quickly over the top side of his cock-
head.

"Like that?" I asked, getting the hang of it and going quicker. 

My cousin bit his lower lip and let out a garbled unintelligible 
sound that I took for an emphatic "Yes."

My own erection was now pressing against the inside of my clothing. 
I started rubbing it through the thick fabric of my faded blue 
jeans. I had to go fast to feel much of anything, and that made my 
other hand go faster too. Soon Joey moaned again and collapsed back 
against the earth, resting his blond head among the bent-over 
stalks of tall grass. I could see his chest rising and falling, and 
I could hear his breath coming through slightly parted lips. He 
raised his hips slightly and held himself there with his legs and 
back stiff and straight. After a few seconds he strained his hips 
forward even further.

I said, "Is it happening?"

He kept his eyes closed, and answered, "Not yet..."

 "Want my mouth now?"

"Uh-hunh," he nodded breathlessly. 

His whole body relaxed the moment I released his swollen prick. He 
opened his eyes and looked at me as I shifted back into a kneeling 
position, then sucked in air audibly as I slid his little pole into 
my mouth; going lower until my lips were wrapped around the slender 
base of his rod. I caressed it lightly with my tongue, feeling the 
hot stiff little organ quivering slightly, as if in anticipation. 
He smelled sweet and tasted like rain. 

Touching my little boy-cousin was a delight; his flesh was supple 
and warm, and all of his skin was silky smooth. I stroked his inner 
thigh sensually with one hand, and rested my other on the smooth 
little mound at the base of his prick. 

As I curled my tongue around his shaft and moved my lips over his 
rod, he pushed his hips experimentally against me, angling his pole 
so the top of his cock head rubbed on the roof of my mouth. He 
withdrew almost all the way with each stroke, and then slowly 
pressed in until the tip of his prick brushed the vestibule of my 
throat. He occasionally let out a soft moan or a startled 
exhalation of breath when some sensation struck him as particularly 
delicious.

After a couple minutes his sounds were becoming more frequent, and 
his movements more urgent. His excitement was contagious: I had 
shoved my hand into my pants to adjust my own achingly rigid 
member, pulling the head up and pinning it against my belly.

Joey heard me moving and opened his eyes. "You hard?" He asked.

I slid his pole out of my mouth and said, "Uh-hunh?" 

 "Come here," Joey replied, and reached his right hand out towards 
my crotch. 

I grinned and eagerly moved into range, spinning so I knelt with my 
knees near the other boys head. Now as I sucked on his compact tool 
Joey could rub my erection through my pants. For some reason it 
felt better when he did it, and the sheer naughtiness of having a 
boner in my mouth at the same time somehow made the good feeling 
even better. I showed him that I liked it by licking and sucking 
his swollen organ more enthusiastically.

Soon, he let off of rubbing me and started fumbling clumsily with 
my belt instead. After a few seconds he gave up on undressing me 
one-handed, and commanded gently, "Get naked." 

I eagerly obeyed.

I stood and stripped to my bare skin in seconds, leaving my clothes 
in a heap on the grass. My hairless balls swung loosely in the open 
air, below my pulsing three-inch erection. The sun and the breeze 
kissed my nude skin, giving delicious feelings all over my body, 
but especially between my legs. 

I kneeled in the grass so we were facing opposite directions. 
Joey's small hand wandered up the inside of my thigh as I leaned 
down and took his prick back into my mouth. He let the velvety skin 
of my prepubescent pouch play between his thumb and first two 
fingers for a while, and then gently cradled my immature globes in 
the warm palm of his hand. I got really good feelings from all of 
it.

He had begun thrusting himself into my mouth. In this position my 
tongue was naturally aligned with the top side of his spongy cock-
head, so the most sensitive part of his boner slid wetly across my 
tongue with each thrust. He seemed to really like that. I let him 
lead with his hips until we found a rhythm that he liked.

At the same time, his groping fingers meandered over the outlines 
of my erection: tracing the plump little pole, circling the ridge 
that separated the shaft from the bulging cap, and finally 
discovering the fleshy dome that sat on top like a ripe cherry. 

Joey noticed that when he squeezed and then released the swollen 
head with his thumb and fingertips an involuntary straining 
paroxysm was initiated in my prick. He experimented with this while 
his prick plunged insistently inside my mouth. Together we 
discovered that the curious little spasms, which gave me a brief 
but very brilliant jolt of pleasure, began not when he squeezed, 
but the moment after he released. 

Shortly he gave up on scrutinizing my sexual apparatus with his 
fingers and instead dedicated himself to pleasing my stiff little 
member with his hand.  

I had been afforded a small excess of skin, a fold just large 
enough that when I was hard it could be pulled delightfully over 
only the lowest and widest part of my swollen corona. Joey had 
discovered this the first time we played with each others naked 
bodies, and now he pleasured me in this familiar way, using sharp 
short tugs from his soft little hand. 

My small remaining pleat of foreskin was more than Joey had been 
left, but not nearly enough to reach the most sensitive nerves near 
the fleshy tip of my boner. Like taking luscious bites of a magical 
desert that would disappear when tasted and could never be 
swallowed, each tug of the little boy's hand gave me a delightfully 
sweet but frustratingly unsatisfying feeling that immediately left 
me craving another. 

Joey, on the other hand, seemed to be rushing towards his peak. He 
pumped my mouth hungrily, frequently emitting little gasps and 
shudders of pleasure. I noticed too that his little rod was 
slightly longer and thicker than before. 

Then, unexpectedly, he let out a louder moan and abruptly clutched 
my head to his pelvis with his one free hand, pressing himself into 
the warm recesses my mouth. I felt the tip of his organ graze the 
back of my throat as he ground his hairless pubic mound against my 
lips ecstatically. Thinking he was on the verge of his crescendo, I 
sucked harder and drew crazy squiggles across the whole length of 
his pole with my tongue, eager to push him over the edge.

But despite my efforts, after a few seconds of this deep grinding 
penetration he began moving his aching boner again. He lapsed into 
a grim silence, using slower, more deliberate movements. The only 
sounds for a long time were his breathing and the wet noises his 
immature organ made as it delved into the sucking cavern of my 
mouth. 

Through all of this his hand continued rhythmically pulling my 
erection. Several times, I felt the tension of my sexual climax 
begin to build and then slip away again when he paused to rest his 
hand. Without meaning to I found my hips straining forward as my 
pleasure built, and then relaxing again when it receded.

By his ragged breathing and the trembling of his body I knew that 
Joey was now teetering on the brink of his first immature sexual 
eruption. While continuing to minister to my boner, Joey 
relinquished the grip he had maintained on my head with his other 
hand, and instead gripped the shaft of his own quivering sex organ. 
Using his thumb and fingers to guide the tip of his little erection 
around, my little boy-cousin delayed his climax to luxuriate in 
blissful sexual sensation. He breathlessly smeared the tip of his 
slender rod over and through the soft wet portal of my lips, making 
indulgent little circles that barely dipped beyond the border of my 
hungry opening. I waited expectantly, prepared for him to drive his 
pecker deep the instant his little spasms began.

And then suddenly everything stopped. He released his trembling 
grip on his own pulsating erection and let go of my expectant organ 
as well. 

He tugged urgently on my leg left leg, and I sighed, certain that 
he was shying fearfully away from his impending explosion. 

"C'mon," he said cryptically, sounding rushed and just a tiny bit 
breathless.

I let his rod slip from my mouth and looked back, giving him an 
understanding look and gently reassuring him, "Its okay. You'll 
see."

He ignored me. Patting the grass on the opposite side of him with 
one hand and pulling my thigh with his other, he chimed eagerly, 
"Put this leg here." 

Then, like a baby bird clamoring for a worm he opened his mouth 
wide and leaned forward, inclining his face towards my dangling 
erection. His meaning was clear.

I eagerly straddled his face, and then reached between my legs to 
guide my three-inch boner towards my cousin's small hungry orifice. 

His dry hand had driven me frustratingly near to orgasm over and 
over again, but that delightful feeling was a pale shadow of the 
extravagant wrenching pleasure that rocked through my prepubescent 
nerve endings when he leaned up and engulfed me in his wet and very 
hot mouth. Towering waves of exquisite ecstasy flooded my senses as 
he began swirling his satiny tongue unpredictably over every inch 
of my compact organ. 

I was suddenly and helplessly propelled towards the brink of an 
unbelievable sexual peak. I let out a wordless groan, and then 
wrapped my mouth frantically around Joey's pulsating prick, 
desperate to feel and taste the childish suppleness of the little 
boy's erection inside my mouth during my climax. 

 "Mm-hmm," he affirmed in an ecstatic whimper, as my ravenous mouth 
latched on.  His hips strained towards my yearning orifice as I 
fervently lapped his quivering member with my tongue.

Simultaneously, I moved my own small organ through the velvety 
layers of ecstasy inside Joey's mouth. Pressing in greedily, I 
savored each particular and distinctly voluptuous sensation as my 
rigid erection slid wetly through lips, glided exultantly over and 
under tongue, and was pressed exquisitely against roof-of-mouth and 
back-of-throat. And then, as I withdrew, I rediscovered every 
incredible sensation and found each was peculiarly different and 
yet equally lovely in reverse. 

In seconds I was hair-breadths away from losing control. I willed 
myself away from that precipice, while rushing impulsively towards 
it, lured as I was by the promise of greater pleasures to be had 
within his sumptuous portal. 

At the same time, Joey was working his stiff little prick inside my 
mouth. I sucked his silky rod with rapturous abandon; delighting in 
his warmth and firmness. 

He abruptly began flicking his tongue in fast circles around my 
corona; the feeling was so delicious that within moments I was 
dancing right on the edge of my climax. I hoped to delay it for a 
while longer, but I couldn't bring myself to withdraw from the 
extravagant bliss emanating from my boy-cousin's tongue. 

I made an urgent moan in my throat, not sure if I was begging him 
to stop or pleading with him not to. He kept going, regardless, and 
soon I was completely awash in pleasure. I hung by a thread, 
knowing that if he kept on this way for just a few more seconds it 
would be too late. I moaned again, more urgently. 

Then suddenly Joey grunted in surprise, and drove himself against 
my face, at the same time grabbing my head and pressing it against 
him with both hands. His body arched as his undeveloped prick 
abruptly swelled inside my mouth. Simultaneously, his lips clamped 
down on my boner and he sucked hard. 

Joey's sudden change in stimulation delayed my climax moments 
before his flicking tongue was set to trigger me. Now I groaned as 
his wet gripping hole drove me to a new height of pleasure.

His little cock was going through a series of strong pulsating 
contractions inside of my mouth, and I worked my tongue frantically 
over the throbbing pole as he ground blissfully against me. His 
tongue flicked deliriously over my swollen boner at the same time, 
almost immediately triggering my own pent-up climax.

The first uncontrollable convulsion began with my cousin's small 
warm body pressed ardently against mine and his little rod leaping 
ecstatically inside my mouth. The straining spasm unleashed a 
cataclysmic wave of shockingly intense physical ecstasy. 

Helpless, I clung to my cousin, indulging my mouth and tongue in 
the velvety warmth of his erection as shocks of pleasure shivered 
through me. I could feel his pulsing orgasm inside of me; could 
feel the warm and silken skin of his belly pressed to my bare 
chest; could feel his every shuddering breath, and even the 
trembling vibrations of his ecstatic soprano moans. 

All of this washed over me as his tongue danced sweetly across my 
throbbing cock, triggering the next eruption before the previous 
one had receded. The two waves of pleasure collided powerfully, 
causing me to let out a startled gasp. Then the separate waves 
flowed together, combining into a single sensation so sublime that 
its passing wrung a sound like a sob from my throat and left tears 
in my eyes. 

Joey sucked harder, and I drove myself against him. 

The third contraction was briefer but more ferocious; it struck 
like a bolt of lightning and then reverberated through my body like 
thunder in a canyon. Bliss like an electric shock gripped me; every 
muscle contracted simultaneously, and for long moments I couldn't 
move or make a sound; I existed only to feel this one thing, and my 
entire being was dedicated to it. And then it passed, receding 
quickly by a series of diminishing aftershocks that left me shaking.

Joey's shivering staff had fallen still, and he lay beneath me, 
seeming comfortable for now. We withdrew from one another's mouths, 
and then I collapsed against his yielding form. Pressed warmly 
together, we lay breathless and trembling for a long while. 

Finally I took a deep breath and rolled off of him. We lay side by 
side, head to toe, staring at the sky for a little longer; 
listening to the hot-bugs and waiting for our racing hearts to 
slow. I was surprised to see that the sun had barely moved. 

Eventually, I sat up Indian-style on the grass, unconcerned about 
my nudity. Joey hadn't moved; his eyes were still closed and his 
pants were around his knees. Our erections were leaning, rocking 
with our heartbeats as they subsided. 

"Are you okay?" I asked gently.

His eyes blinked open, and he looked up at me, squinting his blue 
eyes against the sun.

"Uh-hunh," he smiled, arching his butt up off the grass and pulling 
up first his bright blue-and-red underoos and then his corduroy 
pants.

"Was it good?" I asked him hopefully, liking the feel of the sun on 
my bare back and shoulders.

Joey nodded eagerly, and chirped "Really good!" 

With a sly smile I asked, "Really?" my mocking voice rising 
quizzically at the end.

Joey laughed. "Really really!" he exclaimed gleefully, cocking his 
head to one side and smiling at me admiringly.

Still naked, I leapt at him and started tickling. 

Within seconds we were both giggling like crazy. 

I liked that.



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