Nostalgia

Author's note - This story contains sexual contact between a teenage boy and his younger cousin. If you're likely to be offended, please don't read.


****

The man laid on his bed, in a near-dark room, just a muted glow from the streetlights outside through the drawn curtains on this autumn Sunday evening mitigating the gloom. In his head, visions of another, far-off, rainy Sunday, so many years before.

****

One kiss, then another, and another. Soft and melting, gentle and so erotic, the light touch translating straight into shivers and shudders, and arousal like never before. Although he was little more than a boy himself, his partner seemed so much younger, but so experienced, too, how could he be otherwise, how could he just know, it couldn't simply be instinct that made his touch so excruciatingly blissful. But that was too much, too much thinking, what did he care how Ben knew how to make him feel so delicious, just with the bare contact of lips against lips, all he should do was to savour the feelings. They inhaled each other, Ben's breath tasting faintly of orange juice, how could he know what Ben thought he tasted of, hopefully nothing unpleasant, but that was too much thinking, too, Ben wouldn't be so close if he didn't want to be, there was no coercion going on here, even with their five year age gap, his young cousin had instigated their contact, he'd come to the bedroom, and, without much preamble, had wrapped himself around the young man, saying almost nothing beyond a perfunctory 'Let's do it!', how did he know I wanted him, I always tried to keep it a secret, I love him to bits, but I never want to hurt him, how could he know? Questions rushing through his head, bunching up and knocking each other down like dominoes, all that was left was the thought of 'too much, too much, just let it happen'. And it kept on happening, Ben's hand slid between them and squeezed the engorged flesh he found there.

"Wow, you've got a big one! I wanna see it, now!"

And he made good his wish, unbuckling the belt, unfastening the button, undoing the zip, uncovering his prize. Stroking, teasing, feeling. The owner of the member gasping, desperately trying not to lose control, not to do anything to frighten his young darling, but almost as desperate to dissolve into ecstasy.

"Ben, Ben, sweetie, slow down, I'll cum if you don't!"

A quizzical look crossed the boy's face. He paused his explorations, as though considering his next move.

"Cum? You mean like make sperms?"

"Yeah." A breathy whisper, no more.

"Cool! I really wanna see that!" The slim fingers began sliding again, and the young man was almost immediately on the verge of orgasm, just keeping the inevitable at bay long enough to lift his shirt towards his collarbone, Ben taking his cue and pointing the throbbing tube of masculinity at its owner's stomach just in time, as the first spasm of joy spat almost painfully through the teen's body, making him groan and depositing a thick glob of semen just below his breast bone. Undeterred by the first fruits of his labours, Ben continued his ministrations, eliciting two more strong spurts from his cousin's body, and a handful of further twitches and oozings, dribbling over his own hand, until the older boy had to intervene.

"Too much, darling, too much, it's too sensitive now." The younger boy pouted. "Hey, hey, you haven't done anything wrong, sweetie, it's just the way it is. It's just so nice, you can't bear it anymore. Oh, Ben, that was the best feeling I've ever, ever had. I love you so much. I've loved you for years and years, I've just been too afraid to say it until now."

The boy looked stunned, wide-eyed, as though this was the last thing he expected.

"R....really? You really love me? And I really made you feel good?"

"Yes, and yes! And guess what?"

"What?"

"It's your turn now. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."

"I can't....I can't....cum....I've tried, lots, but it won't happen. It feels nice, sometimes, but then I just feel like I'm going to pee. I'm not grown up enough to do it."

"How about you just lie back and relax, and whatever happens, happens. If you pee, so what? We'll just clean you up. Talking of which, give me your hand, and I'll clean me off of you."

"How?"

"Ssshhh. Hand?"

The boy tentatively held out his hand, and the young man gently, lovingly, used his tongue to wipe away the dribbles of ejaculate from the silky skin. Ben giggled, then looked slightly shocked.

"Where did that go?"

"I swallowed it."

Ben's eyes resembled a startled bush baby.

"Swallowed it? You can't do that! Can you?"

"I just did! You watched me. It's not too bad, but not everyone likes it. It's definitely got a unique taste."

Ben gingerly dabbed his index finger into one of the gooey streaks on the teen's stomach, sniffed at the sticky stuff he'd collected, then, as sensuously as the older boy could have imagined, swiped his tongue across his fingertip. Ben's nose wrinkled for a moment, but then he smiled slightly.

"Yeah, not bad - doesn't taste of that much, really, A bit salty."

The older boy grabbed a towel from the radiator next to his bed, and cleaned himself off.

"Like I said, sweetie, it's your turn now. Lie down here." He guided his young cousin onto his back on the single bed, and knelt on the floor beside him. There was a small, but obvious bulge in the front of the tracksuit bottoms Ben was wearing. The teen reached out and gently ran his hand over the area, feeling the rigid inches of boyhood under his palm. Ben trembled a little, and the older boy took his hand away.

"Are you OK, Ben? You don't have to anything you don't want to, you know that, don't you?"

The youngster drew in a shuddering breath before answering, seemingly nervously.

"I....I do want to....but...." His voice tailed off.

"What, sweetie?"

"Well....mine's only tiny, compared to yours....you might....laugh."

The teen scooped the younger boy into his arms, kissed him and hugged him tightly.

"Ben, darling, I'd never laugh at you like that, I love you, really love you. You've got a lot of growing up to do yet, I've done most of mine. I was just the same as you, a few years ago. It's totally up to you, though, if you want to stop now, just say so."

The boy shook his head, decisively. "I don't want you to stop. I love you too." He laid back on the bed, and lifted his hips slightly, inviting the older boy to undress him. Within seconds, Ben's small but very stiff penis was in full view.

"Ben, that's beautiful. Perfect, like the rest of you." The boy giggled, "Can I touch it, please?"

Ben nodded, then shuddered as his cousin's fingers began gently stroking his swollen flesh, The pleasure of another touching his most intimate place for the first time soon took hold, and his eyes closed and mouth opened involuntarily, leaving him looking completely enraptured. The soft, but insistent caresses continued to build the feelings within Ben's young body, taking him quickly to the point he'd reached through his own experimentation, and panicky thoughts flitted through his head, causing his eyes to snap open.

"Oh....oh, something's happening....I'm gonna....pee. Oh!"

"You won't pee, darling, let it happen."

The young boy whimpered aloud as things he had never felt before began to take him over. A lovely, itchy, tickly sensation seemed to rush from somewhere deep inside his body, before concentrating itself in the two inches of almost painfully aroused flesh between his cousin's fingers, then all control was gone, as Ben's first ever orgasm made his penis jump and buck, trying hard to expel something his body wasn't yet ready to make. Little soft squeals came unbidden from his lips as the spasms continued, seven or eight strong, delightful pulses, then a few weaker twitches, then one last powerful throb as his cousin gently squeezed the hard flesh.

"Ooohhh.....oh wow! What was that?"

"You just had a cum, sweetie, but a dry cum, 'cos you're not quite old enough to make sperm yet. You will soon, though, in a year or two, probably. Did you like it?"

Ben sighed, deeply. "It was....fantastic! When can we do it again?"

The teen chuckled. "I was like that, too, when I first started cumming, wanting another one straight away. I still am, really! We'll do it again, soon, I promise, but I don't want to make you sore - that's no fun at all. Oh Ben, I just love you so much, you're the best." There were tears in the older boy's eyes, almost on the point of being shed.

"You're the best, too! Can I....ask you something?"

"Course you can, anything you like."

"Can....can you be my...." Ben swallowed nervously. "My....boyfriend?"

Ben looked up at his cousin's face, and saw the tears streaming down the young man's cheeks.

"Oh, Ben....of course I can, darling, there's nothing that would make me happier, if that's what you want."

"I love you, Johnny. I want to be with you forever."

No more words were necessary, the two boys, teen and pre-teen, just melted together in an embrace of mutual love.

****

The man's reverie was broken by the sound of the front door being unlocked, and then heard footsteps on the stairs, and outside the bedroom door. The door was opened, quietly, and a head popped into view.

"What are you doing here, lying in the dark?" There was laughter close behind the words.

"Oh, just reminiscing. About another Sunday, long ago and far away."

"That Sunday, I bet!"

"Of course, what else?! I tell you what, though."

"What?"

"I still love you just as much as I did that day, Ben."

"You old softie! You know what though - I love you just as much, too!"

"You said 'forever' that day. Forever's a long time, sweetie, but not long enough, as far as I'm concerned."

And just like that far off day, all had been said. Ben and Johnny simply wrapped each other up in love, again.

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Banished

I am who I am, no-one else can I be
No hiding the wanting, the needing in me
It's there like a banner, the world for to see
The only solution, complete honesty

But truth, so it seems, to my utter dismay
Is no more rewarded than games others play
Real words from the heart that I've chosen to say
It ends, oh, what heartache, with me pushed away

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Escapology

I want to run and hide
From the sea of troubles
Whose tide floods towards me
On every side

But where can you go to
That's far flung enough
To escape from yourself
And the hurting inside

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Cure

"He's an intractable case, one of the worst I've come across. Every regular technique we have at our disposal has failed to make any impact."

"Where do we go from here, then, Sir? Those who sent him here are expecting us to succeed, as we always have in the past. It doesn't seem as though he wants to recover. How can we convince him?"

"He doesn't seem to think he has anything to recover from, that's the main problem in my view. Our usual aversion therapy didn't move him, because he found it too contrived, his suspension of disbelief was absent. And he's right, in a way, of course. Ethically, we could never actually use genuine footage of the activities depicted, and he was acute enough to realise that. He simply said he knew it was staged and false, and that he, personally, would never think of doing any such thing, in any case."

"If he's telling the truth, his truth, it could be impossible, you know. We might never overcome his delusions, we might....fail."

"Nonsense! There's always a way, always an intervention that will have the desired effect. We need to think creatively, that's all. What about the victim? How can we bring him into play?"

"He appears to be no more amenable than our inmate. He has been interviewed several times by our best people, and he absolutely refuses to believe that he is a victim, of the inmate, at least. He says the only bad things that have happened to him have been since his 'best friend' was taken away. His dearest wish, it seems, is for them to be reunited."

"That's the aspect of this case that upsets me the most. A vulnerable young mind, brainwashed, convinced that black is white. And it's why we must not fail. Both must be cured, made to fit the pattern."

"But made something they're not, Sir? Is that ethical in itself?"

The older man looked at his subordinate in disbelief, turning to anger.

"You young fool, what have ethics to do with anything? If we allow this....this....degenerate to succeed in spreading his poison, where will it end? Society is all that matters, if the individual will not conform, he must be....removed."

Now it was the younger man's turn to look disbelievingly at the elder, the man who he'd looked up to as a role model for the past five years, who now seemed as though a mask he had been wearing had slipped away, revealing a totally different person beneath. Something else had changed, too, in the younger man's mind. He hesitated for long moments, but decided that his thoughts needed to be enunciated.

"Conformity? Removal? That sounds rather fascistic to me, I'm afraid. At the end of the day, these two say they love each other. Neither appears in any way to have coerced the other. We have no evidence, ultimately, that any physical activity has taken place, as both deny it and there is no independent witness. This man appears to me to have been incarcerated simply for falling in love. Love is hardly the force that is going to destroy the foundations of civilisation, surely?"

The older man seemed to have regained control of himself, somewhat.

"He has been sent to us to be cured, and that is what will happen. By whatever means. Given that, as I said, every regular technique has failed, it seems to me that only one alternative remains. I will authorise Procedure 199."

"199! That has never been enacted here! I'll have no part of it, if that's your decision. You'll find my letter of resignation on your desk before the end of the day."

"If you feel that strongly, your resignation is hereby accepted. I'm disappointed, I had high hopes for you here, perhaps even saw you as my eventual successor. But, here as elsewhere, the institution is bigger than any individual."

The young man turned on his heel and left without another word. His now former superior sighed, before calling his secretary and requesting the paperwork to set Procedure 199 in motion. Glancing at the clock, he knew he could have the authority, countersigned by the Minister of Justice, in hand before the end of the working day. And then, tomorrow, his institution's 100% record would be maintained. No-one had ever left these walls uncured. And if this mere boylover thought he was going to be the exception, he was much mistaken.

****

In accordance with Procedure 199 of the penal code,

Mr *** ***** was administered a lethal injection at 0800 today.

He was pronounced dead at 0802.

The boy, sitting in his room, stared at the computer screen, uncomprehending for a moment, before the meaning of the words on the official government website sank into his conscious mind. He broke into wretched, inconsolable tears. He was never told that the man's last words were 'I love you so much, darling boy'. Even that comfort was denied him. But conformity, perfection, had been maintained.

****

Love & best wishes to all

Sammy B

Initiate

Author's note - This story has sexual content, involving a boy below the age of consent. Please don't read if you're likely to be offended.


****

It starts with questions.

"Would you? I want to know, want to feel, will you help me to find out?"

"Could I? I'd love to, but are you sure it's what you really want?"

No hesitation, you know the answer to both of those questions. Your voice seems almost beyond your command, though, so that when you do speak, it's in a breathless rush, your words uncharacteristically sibilant.

"Yes, oh yes, please!"

Two pairs of eyes meet, and the unspoken answer concurs with the spoken. Nothing more needs to be said. Gentle hands guide you, tender fingers unshroud your mystery. A journey has begun, from inchoate longing towards shimmering reality. You've heard about, read about the destination, but have never managed to find the right path. Now you have a caring guide, willing and able to show you the way, at your own pace, ready at any moment to turn back if you find it too much, wanting only the best for you, wanting to make it an experience for you to treasure, forever.

"Are you OK? Tell me, please, if you're not, anytime. Just say the word. You're in charge."

You nod, not wishing to break the spell by speaking, and let your eyelids droop as swirling patterns of pleasure are drawn across your body, like invisible Polynesian tattoos. Your lips part a fraction, just enough to show glimmers of white as your teeth catch the light, making you look hungry for more. The ball of a thumb grazes your nipple, and you gasp at the sensation, never having suspected such feelings could be elicited from such a tiny nub of flesh. Fingertips trace a path lower down, caressing and teasing the silk of your skin, you lick your lips instinctively as the insistent touch sends shivers and sparks coursing through your nervous system, racing around from head to toe before finding their way to the rapturous focal point, pulsing with your quickening heartbeat, aching with anticipation. The meandering fingers have by now reached your inner thighs, and you hold your breath, seemingly for ever, as they edge ever closer to what you hope, so desperately, are their target. Then a new feeling, palms of hands so carefully lifting and parting your legs, tipping you backwards a little so you rest on your coccyx, before the fingers return, now softly, so softly, exploring the orbs, the size and shape of large olives, in your smooth sac, then lower still, tracing the path of your perineum, back and forth three or four times, making you shudder and tremble, making you want to divert those hands to the centre of it all, the steely nexus of desire standing tall, proudly displaying your nascent masculinity.

"Please!" Your urgent whisper, you've been so patient, but can be patient no longer.

Calmly, unhurriedly, your legs are lowered, but still apart. It's so close now, you can feel the warm breath bathing you, you close your eyes and then it's there, like an electric shock in slow motion, as you're drawn so smoothly, so sweetly, into a hot and humid cavern. Lips and tongue speaking silent words of love and wonder, building an edifice of delight, taking you to places that you could never have dreamed of, climbing higher and higher, feeling better and better, so that you never want the ascent to end, but the event horizon is rushing inexorably towards you, the lip of the waterfall inescapable, you try and try to hold yourself back, to remain on that plateau of ecstasy just a moment longer, but it's impossible, the singularity will not be denied. And then you hear, as much as feel, the glorious moment arrive, as a groan, disembodied, it seems, escapes from deep within, a sound born of ultimate rapture, and then the world explodes in your loins, blasting out your joy, again and again and again. All of creation subsumed in your spectacular climax, nothing existing outside the halo of bliss which has engulfed you, like a cloak of light. Then, just when you're about to come back to earth, thinking that your time in paradise is over, a second wave, less powerful than the first, but still outshining almost everything in your life until now, takes hold of your body and soul, and you're off to the heights again, this recapitulation feeling like a bath in warm chocolate, slipping and sliding and sweet.

And then, finally, it is over, and you're floating back to reality, lachrymose. The moisture squeezes from the corners of your eyes, and trickles down your cheeks.

"Oh, sweetie, are you alright? Have I hurt you?"

Again, you find it nearly impossible to speak, but know you must.

"It was....unbelievable. I never guessed it could be so good." Your voice cracks with emotion. "Th....thank you, so very much."

You can see the relief on his face, you can tell, even at your tender age, that he would have been devastated to have done you any harm.

"Was....was it your first time, really?"

You smile, then chuckle, then laugh madly, as the full impact of the last minutes come home to you, and you think of the answer you want to give.

"No....it was my first, and second!!"

And then you throw your arms around his neck, and kiss him. And he smiles, like he's never smiled before.

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Glasshouse

Easy to throw your barbs
At a self-confessed soft target
All too easy to ignore
That you are far from being without sin

It's a useful strategy, to deflect
Criticism from your own foibles
By highlighting the faults of others
Shine in contrast to the darkness elsewhere

Shout loudest, drown out the doubts within
And the words of those who might question
Your own morality, your own transgressions
But, when all is done, you can't escape from who you are

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B