Chapter Nine
I'm standing naked beside the Dicker families' inground pool with Robby and his fifteen-year-old brother, Dodger. Robby mutters, "Here I go," he pulls off his T-shirt and, stepping out of his sandals, takes four steps toward the pool and dove in without hardly a splash. I looked at Dodger, who had a slight grin of friendliness on his cute face as he was absently pulling on his five-inch dick. I stupidly watched him do that for a few seconds until Dodger said, "Here, I'll help. You've never worn a racing speedo before, have you?"
I shook my head, and he took the Speedo from my hand, mumbling, "Speedos are intentionally very tight, so they won't create any drag during a race. This one is almost too small for me, so seeing how you fit into it will be very interesting. I'll bet you'll like how it feels on your cock and balls." Holding the leg opening wide with his fingers, kneeling at my feet, he encouraged me, "Step into it, Dylan. Put your hands on my shoulder, balancing yourself."
I stepped into the one leg and then the other, and Dodger stood pulling the speedo up my legs. At my crotch, he held my penis against my belly and said, "Go ahead, Dylan, pull the Speedo the rest of the way while I hold your dick flat. It'll be more comfortable if your dick is sideways like this." It took some muscle to pull up the Speedo as my cock started firming up. Dodger groped my cock, muttering, "There, that's not too bad, huh?" and he put the fingers of one hand inside the waistband to adjust my partial boner a little more to the side, asking, "Feel okay, Dylan?" I muttered, "Uh-huh."
His finger pushing my semi-boner felt smooth, and I glanced at his hand and noticed he was a fingernail biter. Every fingernail was bitten down to the cuticle, and every fingertip was red and sore looking; just the soft finger pads touched my penis. I gently pulled his fingers out of the Speedo and held his hand up to look at it. Dodger let me hold his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You bite your nails?" I asked, like an idiot.
"How'd you guess?" he asked, grinning at me. I grinned back and all of a sudden realized the ludicrous situation of him standing in front of me naked and me holding his hand. Dropping his hand, I said, "Just a wild guess. I used to do that, too. Um, are you going to get your swimsuit?" Grinning from ear to ear, he asked, "Am I making you uncomfortable? If so, I'm sorry. I should join a nudist colony because I like being naked," then he jogged to the deck's steps, and up he went... me staring at him.
He has the most perfect hairless ass I've ever seen on anyone. Perfect half-melon buttocks, sticking up a bit and firm looking. They didn't jiggle at all as he jogged up the steps. I groped myself in the tiny Speedo and turned to look at the pool. It was three minutes since Robby had done his perfect dive. He's swimming laps as effortlessly as Dodger swam them. Then, turning over to float on his back, he said, "Come on in, Dylan." I did a clumsy cannonball, which drenched Robby and got him laughing. The two Dickers brothers are the best-natured boys I've ever met.
If I let myself think about Dodger holding my dick, I'd get a serious hardon, so I purposely kept up a conversation with Robby about the autographs of the Red Sox, and asking if he ever got to Fenway Park, and blah, blah, blah. As I've said before, Robby is easy to converse with after you get to know him a little, and he's not as shy. I swam over to the side of the pool and had my elbows up on the edge behind me, with my feet floating out in front of me, and ran out of things to say. Robby dives underwater and swims the length of the pool to come up between my legs, laughing. It startled me so much Robby had to hold me to keep me from falling into him. In the process, there was some crotch rubbing which is all I needed to get me springing the rest of the boner that started with Dodger playing with my dick.
For a moment, I wondered if Robby grabbed my crotch on purpose and then discounted that possibility when he sincerely apologized for getting rough. His light blond hair looked darker, soaking wet and plastered against his head. It made him look even more identical to Dodger, who had crewcut brown hair. I wanted to put my arm around Robby's neck, hug him, and give him a kiss, but I didn't. Then, a slight ripple in the water was Dodger diving in the pool. He reminded me of a slick seal I'd seen at the aquarium. It didn't seem to be doing much body movement, yet it streaked through the water.
Dodger, seemingly without effort, skimmed through the water like a seal, and I don't know why that surprised me, as everything about Robby and Dodger was pretty much unbelievable. It was fun to look at them, though. Always a grin or a friendly smile on their beautiful faces.
After a few minutes of showing off his water skills, Dodger swam over to me with a big grin and deliberately goosed me with both hands while asking, "How's the Speedo feel?" Well, at that moment, it felt like I was going to cum in it, but I didn't say that. I said, "It's wicked small and tight, giving me a hard-on." Dodger said, "Oh, is that what that is? I thought you had a Tootie Roll bar in there." I was like, "Wha...?" He swam underwater back and forth the length of the pool until I was gasping for breath just watching him. Doesn't he need to breathe?
Later on, we sat in deck chairs around the pool, and I told Dodger how I had stopped biting my nails. The nail-biting started when I was eleven and lasted through age thirteen. I'd bite my nails just as drastically as Dodger. Finally, that habit was driving me nuts, so I put this bitter substance Mom got me on my fingernails every single day and asked Chubby to yell at me when he saw me biting despite the bitter stuff. It took three or four miserable months to break the habit.
Robby said, "That's a good way to break the habit." I asked Dodger, "So, will you try it?" He said, "No, I don't want to quit biting my nails." Robby said, "Yeah, he enjoys it, so keep your home remedies to yourself, okay?" They both had straight faces, and I was like... what? Then they grinned, and it struck me as so funny that I laughed so hard I almost fell out of the chair.
The back door opened, and I saw a man and woman on the deck. They looked too young to be the boys' parents, but Dodger called, "Hi, parental units!" The father asked, "How are you boys on this beautiful day?" Coming down the steps, I could see they were both very good-looking. I supposed they'd need to be to produce these two gorgeous boys.
The mom had brown hair and the dad had light blond hair cut close like Dodgers. Robby, Dodger, and the parents gave each other quick hugs and little kisses. Robby introduced me, and when he explained that I was the one who got him on the school newspaper, his parents made the biggest deal out of it. After some small talk, they invited me to stay for dinner, which I declined, explaining that Chubby and I always ate dinner together and the circumstances of our moms' worked nights and blah, blah, blah.
Mr. Dickers told Robby to give me a ride home in the pickup truck when we finished our swim, and then he said, Hey, Rob will be working for our family business this summer, and we needed another lawn boy. Would you be interested in the job?" I nodded, "Yes, very much," and he explained, "It's cutting grass and yard work, paying ten dollars an hour." Robby said, "Oh, yes, Dylan, it'd be fun working out in the fresh air all day." Dodger mumbled, "In ninety-degree heat with broiling sun."
Mrs. Dickers said, "You boys might enjoy yourselves working together while you earn some decent money." They didn't need to talk me into it; I was thrilled to have a steady job this summer and be working with Robby. Are you kidding? Count me in! I didn't let on that I was super happy, though. Trying to be cool, I nodded, "Thank you so much. It sounds great. Yes, I'd like to work for you this summer." Mrs. Dickers said, "There's paperwork for tax purposes, Dylan, but we'll take care of that your first day. Welcome! We're all set now. That's wonderful."
Robby dropped me off at my house before six o'clock, so Chubby wasn't home yet. After thanking Robby, I sat on the outside steps and smoked a cigarette, trying to figure everything out. I've run into some good fortune here! The only negative is Dodger won't be working with us. Everything else is fantastic. Robby makes my dick tingle, and seeing him every day, all day, while getting paid ten dollars an hour is beyond awesome! Four hundred dollars a week to work side-by-side with Robby Dickers! Get serious!
We'd have our driver's licenses with Chubby's money and mine in July. We could chip in for a used car, too. Goddamn, this is great! I was surprised that Robby seemed excited about us becoming friends. He's a popular kid, one of the high school's 'in-crowds' that I do not belong to. He's a star on the baseball team and has some other role I can't remember. So, why is he so anxious for us to be buddies? Now that I think about it, he accepted the sports writer's position without asking any questions about what he'd be doing.
Also, more importantly, what's with all the balls grabbing and naked stuff and grabbing my penis and all of the double entendre and being naked in the backyard? What's with all that? Omigod, if the Dickers brothers are gay, it's going to be like I died and went to heaven. The thought of doing sexy stuff with them has me groping myself right here on the front steps of my house. I hear, "Do you have a touch of jock itch, Dylan, or are you playing with yourself again?"
It was Chubby sneaking up on me. Grinning, I exaggeratedly grope my balls, mumbling, "Dude, do you want to help me with this?" Chubby looks around and says, "Dammit, Dylan. I told you about saying stuff like that. If the wrong people hear that, they might think we're queer, for fuck sake! We hook up together all the time, and they might get the wrong fucking idea. Ya know what I mean?"
We'd had this discussion several times, and usually, I kid him even more by saying something that's crazy, like:. Kiss me, Chubby. He gets madder and madder, and we end up wrestling, which I love to do with him. Today, I mumble, "Yeah, yeah, I know Chubby. Sorry. Come on inside; I've got good news to tell you.
Nodding, he follows me inside, asking, "What's the good news?" Oh, man, Chubby looked so hot with his baseball cap on backward and his sunburned nose, and that freaking cute chin. I love me some Jeffrey Romaro!
I told him about my job, and Chubby was immediately into his mathematics mode and calculated how much money we'd have combined by the end of July. "More than we need for the insurance, Dylan! Oh fuck, yeah! We're going to have our own car for our senior year of high school! That fucking Robby Dickers is coming through for us. Cutting grass, fuck! I'd rather do that than wash windows."
He was anxious for me to ask Mr. and Mrs. Dickers if they could use another boy this summer. I can't tell you how excited I was to get Chubby away from that pea-brained Ricky! Unfortunately, Mrs. Dickers said they were set for the summer. I'm not telling Chubby until I'm positive there isn't an opening.
After eating, we had the Red Sox on TV in the background as Chubby and I worked together to create this detailed poster that Chubby needed for tomorrow's Science class. It took us until bedtime, and we were both kind of cranky by the time it was finished. What a ginormous pain in the ass that was. Then, the next day, Wednesday, Robby had lunch with me, and it was like we were best friends already. Spending that afternoon at Robby's house turned out better than I could have hoped, except I learned there was no opening for the Dickers' business this summer unless someone drops out. That's when Chubby would come in. So, there's some hope.
Thursday, after school, I was determined to do my four-mile run. It's a good thing Chubby and I ran on Sunday, or it would have been four days in between running, and you can lose your wind pretty quickly, as Chubby was experiencing. This afternoon, my running was going smoothly for the first two miles, and as I came up to the rest area cut off, I gave a thought to taking that trail, but in the end, I ran on by. Then, a few hundred yards past the cut-off, I stopped and turned around. If the Marine is there, I have some things to get off my chest."
Carl educated me about the dominant/submissive sex, which I believe is what my Marine is into, so I know where he's coming from now, and I know what to expect and how I should react. Even so, my heart did start pumping hard as I slowed to a walk near the rest area. I took a deep breath and walked around the last group of trees, and he was there at our pee tree, taking a big piss. He had to have heard me rustling around past the trees, but he wouldn't look up. I waited a few seconds more and then asked, "What's your name?"
I was taking charge today, Goddammit! Without looking up, he said, "Tom Delcarmen, what's yours?" I mumbled, "Dylan Newman, and I know where you work, so no use lying about your name because I can check up on it." He shook his long cock getting off the last pee drops and put it away. Then, in an unconcerned, bored voice, he said, "Come over here and look at my dog tags if you don't believe me."
I was feeling braver by the second, so I walked right up to him and then waited, a tiny bit nervous being this close, while he took his time pulling out two metal dog tags on a chain around his neck. I brazenly picked them up and held them in front of my eyes. My head was close to Tom's, and his scent was one hundred percent sexy. Each dog tag had his last name, first name, social security number, blood type, and religion. Delcarmen, Thomas, 196 54 0605, TYPE A, Catholic: was stamped on both tags.
Nodding slightly, I mumbled, "Jeez, these are the first dog tags I've ever seen." He ignored my stupid comment and asked, "What else would you like to know?" I asked, "How old are you?" He said, "I was twenty-one last month." I couldn't think of anything else to ask him. He was making me feel intimidated again, and I couldn't think straight with him looking at me so steadily. All I could think of was how handsome and macho he was and how he was so relaxed, oozing confidence.
I let go of his dog tags and stepped back. Inhaling deeply, I looked into his cloudy blue eyes and then at his wicked short Marine haircut that, for some reason, made my dick twitch. After fifteen seconds, he asked, "Do you want to suck my cock again this afternoon?" He asked me that in a regular voice, like you'd ask if someone would like a piece of chewing gum. I didn't reply to that. Instead, I muttered, "I learned all about that dominant act you're using with me, and it's not right because it doesn't give me any say in the sexy things we did."
Tom said, "If I'm doing anything you don't like, just say the word no, and I'll stop, and then we won't ever do anything together again." He waited, and again, I couldn't get past his staring eyes, so he added, "I'd never hurt you in any case. Certain things might be unpleasant at first, but once you get used to them, they'll give you sexual pleasure."
He was so nice today, talking regularly, which wasn't especially dominant; not at all dominant as a matter of fact. After waiting for me to say something, he shrugged and mumbled, "It doesn't matter. But so you know, if you decide you want to suck my cock or do something sexual with me, I'll always be in charge, so you need to get used to that."
I still couldn't make up my mind what to do. He said, "Well, I'm outta here. See you later, maybe," he sounded impatient and irritated, acting more like he was the first two times I was with him, so I wanted to say: No, not today, Tom. Meet me here on Friday, and maybe I'll do something with you. Maybe!
That's what I wanted to say, but what I meekly said, sounding timid, is, "Yes, I want to do something sexual with you. What do you want me to do?" He said, "Well, start with pulling your pants down, turn around, and then pee." The last few times I ran, it was without a jockstrap. It was more pleasant running without one. So, it was just my running shorts I pulled down and caught under my balls, and then I turned to the tree, feeling like a little kid again, doing everything I was told. Standing behind me, he put his arm under my chin and tightened it on my neck, really tight at first, like he was pissed at me, and I immediately was up tight against him, my back molded into his chest, standing very straight and stiff.
Maybe I was trying to get him to say the word 'good' like he'd said when I'd done something correctly. His hairy arm held my chin uncomfortably high, causing me to go up on my toes, and his hand rubbed under my T-shirt. He lightly rubbed all over my chest and belly, down to the top of my penis. His arm hair tickled my jaw, and when I tried to move my head a little, his arm muscles bulged, preventing me. He stopped feeling my body to move me to his side, bending me over to pull my shorts down in the back. I started to get a slight stiffy expecting him to do the finger fucking again. That is so hot, his finger rubbing my prostate button. Carl explained to me how it was connected to climaxing. So, that's cool......
Then the world exploded on me, and in my head was a red flash of pain. I was dancing from toe-to-toe, squealing, and heard a loud slap like a delayed reaction of breaking the sound barrier when you hear the explosion a few seconds later. My explosion was a burning pain on my buttocks, then another explosion, and I blubbered, "Ouch, ouch, OW! OW!" and then more "SMACK! SMACK! sounds. He was spanking me, and the right side of my ass was a wasteland of burning pain. Tears were embarrassingly rolling down my face, and mucus was oozing from my nose. After the ten or so explosions, the Marine wrapped me up roughly in his arms, then said, "Stop it! That's over for now, but stop that blubbering, or I'll spank you some more. Stop it right now!".
Incredibly, I began to feel like he was looking out for me now. He didn't want me doing anything that could cause more spanking. That was the first time in my life anyone spanked my bare ass. Mom never did corporal punishment. When she wanted to punish me for bad behavior, she'd take away privileges, like no more watching TV, I wasn't allowed to play with Chubby, or no going on my computer. Plus, the lectures, oh my God, a spanking might have been easier to take than the lectures.
Trying to please him, I docilely snuggled against him the way I did with Carl, showing I was cooperating as the pain subsided to a dull burn. In his hypnotic voice, he asked, "Do you know why I had to punish you?" In a questioning manner, I said, "Was it because I disrespected you? He said, "Yes, that's it, but do you know how you disrespected me?"
I guessed it was me asking his name and then not believing him until he showed me his dog tags, then I guessed it was me asking his age or not standing up straight or talking to him like a smart ass. None of those things was correct, and he said he was proud of me for insisting on knowing those few things about him, and he was happy with my posture, too. None of that was that's why he spanked me.
So, I was still mystified until, just like that, it was crystal clear to me. I said, "Oh yeah, I know. It was because I didn't do my shaved pubes the way you wanted it done." He explained that he'd only given me one instruction, and I couldn't be bothered to take care of that one thing, plus the pubic hair had grown in some and should have been shaved again.
I thought it was unfair of the Marine because I shaved my pubes with Chubby and forgot that little patch at the top, so I didn't leave it. He's being too picky! And I was thinking about Mom's lectures as Tom began lecturing me, quietly saying that if I thought it was okay to ignore the only task he'd asked me to do, what did that say about how much respect I had for him? Hmm, he must be some kind of psychology expert or something because he knows how to manipulate my thinking. He has me feeling guilty about doing a half-ass job with the pubes and deserved being punished. That's stupid, though. I thought it was clever of me to get Chubby involved, so I forgot the nob of short pubes at the top of my dick.
Tom asked, "Shall we start over?" I meekly said, "Sure, thanks," and he moved me back to my normal position, my back against his chest and his hairy arm under my chin. I immediately started getting a boner. What the fuck?
He took hold of my slightly firm dick with his thumb and index finger and told me to pee. A weak spurt at first, then a regular stream of pee, but not for long. I didn't have to go much because I hadn't been drinking water along the trail today. When I was done, he left my dick hanging out and told me he wouldn't be sucking me off because of my scratchy pubic stubble. He would give me a break, though, and allow me to suck his cock, and help me get off. I mumbled, "Thank you, Tom," and then I was mad at myself because what am I thanking him for?
Tom was right back to his all-business-tough-Marine persona, saying, "Here, suck on my finger to get it slippery with spit. I'm going to finger your asshole while you jerk yourself off." I sucked on his middle finger, and he started stroking my cock using the same two fingers he'd used to hold my dick when I peed. I was a little hard; he took his finger from my mouth and pushed it way up my ass until his knuckles were pressed against my buttocks. I groaned because, at first, that hurt, but not for long. It quickly began to feel good as Tom knew what he was doing, and
soon, I had my six-inch metal pipe sticking straight out of my five-o'clock shadow pubic patch. Tom said, "Go ahead and jerk yourself off,"
The feeling in my rectum was so excellent it quickly got me squirming and moaning, the spanking already forgotten. I stroked the foreskin up and over the swollen head of my cock, and then down, and then back over, and it felt so good. Tom was fingering my prostate now, and I was arching my back, moaning, " Ahhh. Ohh," and stroking my boner faster, going up on my toes again; my back arched, and my crotch pushed out hard as I stroked, stroke, stroked my flagpole-boner. "Ohhh, Tom, I'm cuming!" and a long string of cum burned out the pee slit of my cock, then a smaller one, and "Ahhh!"
With a hot red face and short, fast breaths bursting out between my lips, there was a pounding in my head and a pounding heart in my chest. With Tom involved, it had all felt so much better than me jerking myself off alone. Still lazily pulling on my semi-limp dick, I leaned back against the Marine, my head back on his shoulder. Tom's finger up my ass felt different now as he began pulling up on my anus, "Okay, Dylan, get over here now." Snapping out of my revelry, I walked to the bench on my tiptoes. Tom, using that finger up my ass to pull up on my anus, guiding me, pushing and pulling my hole this way and that. "Come on, move it."
I held on to the arm he had around my belly to keep from falling on my face. At the bench, he pulled his finger out, and I got on my knees in my regular position with my back pressed against the edge of the bench seat. "You'll need to clean this first," and he pushed the finger he'd had up my ass against my lips. What could I do but open and suck on that disgusting finger? The acrid, horrid taste amazingly went away within ten seconds; then, I sucked on the finger for another minute after the taste disappeared before Tom pulled it out, wiped it on my T-shirt, and said, "No deep throating today. I want you to suck me off the way you normally suck your buddies off."
Tom, the Marine, of course, stood up straight as it was a natural way for him to stand. Taking his limp dick in my fist, I stroked it and then began licking the head as if it were an ice cream cone. That's one of the things Carl insisted I do when sucking cock. I'd begin my licking about three inches below the head and then up to and over the head, making sure to try and get the tip of my tongue in the pee slit as my tongue passes by it. After a few of those laps, Tom brought his hands around from behind his back, held onto my head, and played with my short hair, mumbling, "It feels okay so far."
With that strong endorsement, I increased my licking, now starting close to the bottom of his cock and all the way up to the pee slit, then doing it quickly, over and over. He grunted once and went, "Woooo," softly, and when his cock was as hard as a steel pole, I began licking from under his balls as this was what Carl always liked the best. Under and over the nut sac quickly several times, and then I'd suck one nut at a time and tongue it for all I was worth. After a few minutes, I heard Tom say, "Jesus!" and he started squirming. Carl would be proud of me because now I had Tom hot, and the head of his cock had a big drip of precum right at the slit. Pushing his left nut out of my mouth with my tongue, I sucked the head of his boner into my mouth and lapped at that swollen red head like a cat licking up a bowl of milk.
Tom was making humming sounds, holding onto my shoulders as sensations were off the chart coming off his sensitized hard penis. I like sucking young guys' cocks, so I found myself with a hard cock, too. I'd started jerking myself off about the time I was sucking on his nuts. Tom was putting out a lot of precum by now, and he goes, "Grrrrrrrr, ahhh," and then, even though he said he wouldn't, he deep-throated me once, twice, three times, and then shoots a long creamy load of cum into my mouth. I was swallowing it really well until the second mouthful, and I started to cough, and then, like last time, I sucked cum up my sinuses, and it sprayed out both nostrils; then I desperately tried to get air in through my nose, but it was still clogged with creamy Marine cum.
It was quite uncomfortable for me the next minute or two. I'd been just on the verge of a second climax when the cum went up my nose, and by the time I could swallow normally and breathe again, the hope for a second climax had passed. Still, it was a hot time, Tom grumbled, "That wasn't bad." He helped me up and let me use his little towel to blow my nose in and then he tossed the towel into the same wire basket he'd tossed the last one in. He said, "I can't promise to be here every other day anymore. My assignment hours are changing, so you'll need to wait for me about this time every day if you want to hook up with me."
Standing now, I nod, and he adds, "If I don't show by three fifteen, I'm probably not going to make it. I'll try to be here Friday, and if I am, I'll show you how good it feels to be rimmed, so keep your asshole extra clean every day. Also, think about me fucking you, which is going to happen soon. Are you on board with all this?" I nodded, trying to follow what he was saying. He runs his fingers through my short hair and says, "Stand up straight, jeez!" I do that, and he says, " I can see you're a boy who needs discipline and hot sex. Some like it... you NEED it."
I was standing close in front of him, straining to stand tall, when he pulled my head over to his face, then mumbled, "Jesus, you smell better than my wife," and he kissed the side of my head, then said, "I've gotta get out of here now. See you Friday, maybe. Wash yourself really well because I don't want to taste shit in your ass crack," and with that delightful thought he left me standing at attention, watching him jog away.
Pulling my pants up, I sat on the bench and immediately hopped right up because my right butt cheek was still very tender from the spanking. I sat mostly on my left side and thought about what had happened with my Marine, Tom Delcarmen. Friday, huh?
To be continued...
