Sweet Sixteen
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I’m thirty-seven and my wife, Alma, is thrity-nine. We’ve been married for seventeen years. It’s a good marriage. We’re a good match and the sex life is okay, if mundane. Some weeks we do it two or three times and other times two weeks can slip by and we don’t do anything. It’s all kind of cut and dried.
Alma has a little brother, Dennis, and by “little” I mean he’s twenty-three years younger than she is. I don’t know what her folks were thinking when they made him. But then again, they had already been drinking by then.
Since then things have gotten a lot worse. Now they’re drunk every day. It’s really sad watching a pair of old people killing themselves with alcohol. Anyway, last year, when Dennis turned fifteen, we decided he had to get out of there, and brought him here to live with us. We should have done it long before.
As the months passed we got to know each other better. By the time a year had passed and he reached sixteen we were comfortable with each other, and had accepted each other's quirks.
Dennis is slightly effeminate. I don’t mean he prances around acting like he thinks he’s a girl. He just isn’t like most sixteen-year-old boys. He’s not interested in boy things, and he has a soft side. He’s cute – you could say almost pretty, and he’s a really nice kid – sweet really.
So I wasn’t shocked when several months after his sixteenth birthday one day out of the blue he said, “Tony, I’ve decided I don’t like girls. I like boys.”
As I said, I wasn’t shocked, but I was surprised he chose to tell me – surprised and pleased he had that trust in me.
I said, “Well, if you’re sure that’s what you want, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just be sure it’s what you want, and not what somebody is telling you. But if it is, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. If it’s right for you, it’s right, period.”
That was all that was said, but over the next several months I got the feeling he was paying a lot more attention to me. I mean it seemed he was around me all the time, and kept looking at me, watching me. Then I’d decided that was ridiculous and thought, ‘How conceited can one guy be?’ But those ideas would keep creeping back in my thoughts.
I described Dennis, and although it isn’t really necessary, I’m going to describe myself.
I’m pretty average looking, not homely I think, but nothing special. My body is also average. I’ve managed to keep the fat off. I have hair on my chest, stomach and legs, not a lot – if I was blond you probably wouldn’t notice it – but I have black hair. I also wear a beard. Not one of those short ones that look like the guy forgot to shave, but a full beard. I think it makes me look better, or at least stand out in a crowd.
Dennis turned sixteen and life went plodding by, every day like the one before. One night about 9:00 I was lying in bed. Alma had gone off I don’t remember where now. I was horny. I had thrown back the bed sheet and kicked off my boxers.
I was feeling my dick, squeezing it and running my thumb over the head, massaging my balls and flopping my dick around. I wasn’t hard yet, and I was wondering if I should wait until Alma got home and see if she wanted to fuck, or just go ahead and jerk off. Should I bother getting up and putting on a porno video, or just do it. I squeezed it some more and it had begun to wake up when Dennis walked into the room. I hadn’t bothered to close the door.
He was nude. Stripped. Butt ass naked, just like me. I stopped flopping my dick around but didn’t take my hand off it. I also didn’t try to cover it up. I just looked at him, waiting for him to say something.
Instead he walked over to the bed and climbed onto it. I spread my arm, the one that wasn’t occupied with my dick, out in a welcoming way. He lay down and snuggled up to my side, bent down and removed my hand from my dick, took it in his hand and put it in his mouth. A feeling like a sweet electrical shock shot out from my dick to the extremities of my body.
I spread my legs so one of them was on top of one of his, my thigh pressing against his groin, his dick pressing against my thigh. His dick instantly got hard – teenagers’ dicks get hard without their even thinking about it. His sucking mine made it grow to its complete erection, and he went up and down on it.
It had been a long time since Alma had sucked on my dick, and I either had forgotten how good it felt, or Dennis sucking my dick felt better than she ever had. This was perfection. I didn’t want to scare him or anything, so I didn’t grab his head and I resisted bucking my hips and fucking him in the mouth. I laid my hand on his back. He was thin – slender – but not skinny. I didn’t feel bones – just smooth sixteen-year-old skin over firm flesh – nothing spongy or sagging.
We didn’t say anything. There wasn’t any dirty talk. Besides an occasional sucking sound he made soft throat sounds of satisfaction. After a couple of minutes of sucking he stopped and jacked my dick while he kissed it, then kissed my stomach and up to my chest. He didn’t lick or suck my nipples. They were just sweet kisses of adoration – for my body! He then kissed back down my stomach and my dick and returned to sucking it.
I’m an alpha male. I like being in control. I don’t like Alma sitting on me, riding my dick. I like being on top.
After another couple of minutes I softly said, “Dennis, can I fuck you?” That was dirty talk, but pretty unavoidable.
He simply said, “Yes.”
I got up on my knees and turned him so he was on his knees and elbows. He spread his legs so I was between them, and hooked his legs over mine. Alma has a dry cunt and we always have to use a lubricant, so there was a bottle in the drawer by the bed. I squirted it on my dick, put my dick at the entrance to his boy pussy and pushed it in, all the way. He let out a whimper, like a puppy wanting its mother’s teat.
I pulled back and then began fucking him the way I always fuck, hard and fast. It’s the only way I can come, otherwise it’d take me hours. I marveled at the way his ass felt. This wasn’t loose and dry. This was tight and moist and warm.
I pushed him down so his face was on the mattress and fucked him and pulled him back up so he was on his hands and knees and fucked him. I pulled him up so I could hold him against my chest and fucked him and pushed him back down on his elbows and fucked him. I pushed him back down on his face and fucked him and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back up and fucked him and pushed him down so he was flat on his stomach and fucked him.
The soft throat sounds he had made earlier had changed into loud combinations of groans and grunts, coming from deep in him. He panted like a dog. I don’t know what sounds I was making – probably stronger and louder. I was only aware of his. Finally some sense returned to my brain and I realized I may have been abusing him. I stopped and pulled my dick out. He was writhing on the bed.
I asked, “Are you alright?”
He said, “Yes.”
I figured out he was rubbing his dick on the bed, basically fucking the mattress.
I said, “Can I continue? Do you want me to do it some more?”
He responded with, “Yes.”
I pulled his hips up and stuck my dick back in his hole and pounded him again. His legs were still hooked over my legs. I was nearing the breaking point. I pushed him back down so he was lying flat on his stomach and fucked as hard and fast as I could, my fucking his ass making his dick fuck the mattress. He moaned in a way that I knew he'd come.
He could tell I was getting there and turned his head and said, “Tommy, I want to taste it.”
I said “My dick’s dirty.”
After all, I know his “boy pussy” is really his asshole.
But then I pulled it out and said, “Here, turn over.”
We unhooked and he turned onto his back. I sat on his chest and with one hand pulled his head up and with the other jacked my dick.
I said, “Open your mouth” and put the end of my dick up to hisTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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