Message-ID: <10631eli$9804241352@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: discovery@technologist.com Subject: The ballad of Chris and Robert (b/b) Chapter 1 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: discovery@technologist.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3544b53c.619502@post.demon.co.uk> This story may contain descriptions of sexual acts between boys of various ages and/or men and boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now (unless you want to be educated and have an open mind that is!) Please do not read any further if you are under 18, or if stories containing such material offend you or are unlawful in your country. The story is copyrighted by the author. Please do not distribute it to any newsgroups and/or web-sites without permission of the author. You may, however, send it to your friends in any form you wish, as long as payment is neither requested or received and no changes are made to this file. The story is fiction. Any resemblance to any individual, alive or dead, isn't intended but is a nice idea... The ballad of Chris and Robert ============================= By Tom Palmer ============= Chapter One - We meet our heroes, and Robert gets an extra Biology lesson ========================================================================= IT was one of those oddly sunny afternoons that sometimes come at the end of October in England, just before the chill of winter settles in. The two boys walked slowly home from school. If their houses had been another half mile from the school, the county would have provided them with a bus pass; as it was, they had to walk. On a day like this it was no real hardship, but later in the year it could get really unpleasant. They would get home drenched and shivering, and have to strip off straightaway and get into warmer clothes. Both boys were eleven, and had started at their new school in September. It was a much bigger school than the primary schools they had attended before, with almost twelve hundred boys aged between eleven and sixteen on the rolls. Unusually, although it was a state school, it was single sex, with a parallel girls' school across the road. The school arranged its classes by academic ability, and so each class was a mixture of boys from all the different feeder schools in the town. Both Chris and Robert were in the top form, and each was the only one who had made it into the elite group from their respective schools; Chris had been to primary school in the town; Robert and his parents had only moved there the summer before. As the other boys tended to mix with their friends, the two loners had effectively been forced into each other's company. Very soon they were inseparable companions, sharing a sense of humour and a cynical attitude to life. Usually in any pair there is a leader and a follower, but with Chris and Robert it would be hard to tell which was which. Chris, slightly the younger was a studious looking boy with fair curly hair, pale skin, a battered pair of glasses and a total inability to keep anything tidy, whether it was his room, his clothes or his schoolwork. Robert was slightly taller with a long almost horselike face. His dark brown hair hung in an untidy fringe over his eyes, except when he performed his trick of rubbing it, backwards, against his scalp. This would make it stick straight out like an awning until gravity eventually pulled it back down over his forehead. For an audience of other eleven year olds, this was highly prized entertainment. Although both boys were really bright and could, when they tried, shine amongst the others in their class, they were typical eleven year olds and would usually find any excuse to put off homework and other boring stuff. They were at the age when the possibilities of teenage life can be clearly seen, but not yet experienced - perhaps that is not quite true. There was still an element of fantasy and imagination in their musings about what their older friends were up to. For two imaginative young men like Chris and Robert, providing their own input in this way was not much of a problem. As they rounded the corner from Saddler's Drive into Coventry Avenue they were considering one of the boys in the fifth year, Ian Wheeler. The two younger boys were fascinated by the physical development of their seniors and were impatient for the same things to start happening to them. That afternoon they had a sports period whilst the fifth year class had been in the gym. Afterwards the two groups shared the one changing room which gave the younger boys plenty of chances to see the way the older boys were changing, in every sense of the word. Ian was a chunky, muscular boy who was a prop-forward on the school's first rugby fifteen. He had a dark, tough-looking heavy-boned face and looked very grown up beside some of his slighter classmates. To the two eleven-year-olds, he was practically an adult. "Did you see Ian today?" Chris asked Robert. "Boy heck did I" replied Robert. "He's huge, isn't he? Do you think he's used it?" "Bound to have done. Don't you think he looks the sort of guy who would have a girlfriend." "Yeah, I know what you mean. And with that thing of his he'd be able to do it all right." To the two boys, a sex meant a girlfriend, and sex was the only reason for having a girlfriend. There not being any girls at school, neither had found any way of putting this into practice yet. They walked on a bit further. Robert spoke next: "You know Peter Harris?" "Yeah? What about him?" "I got a look at his today. He's almost as big as Ian - I reckon it's four inches." Robert was really excited - this was a boy their own age, not one of the older gods. Maybe there was hope for them yet. "No way!" Chris was sceptical. "You sure he wasn't getting stiff?" "Nope. It was hanging down right in front of his balls. He was flopping it around drying it with the towel. It was real thick, but still soft." "Jeez. Four inches? Lucky beggar." Chris knew that when soft he was still only just over an inch long; he'd have been hard put to make four inches fully hard. Chris had in fact been getting fully hard more and more often recently. Like all the other boys, he'd had a brief course of sex education at school, so he knew that when his penis became erect, it was ready to be inserted into a woman's vagina and to shoot out semen; he really wanted this to happen, and so when he'd been having a bath he'd tried holding it in different positions, squeezing it, trying to make some sperm come out. He was of course still too young for this to happen: but one evening when he had been squeezing his penis it had started to feel tickly and something had made him carry on squeezing and rubbing it a bit. Very soon his whole body jerked as he came to his first dry orgasm. Chris was a scholarly boy, when he wanted to be, and although he guessed that his body was trying to shoot out sperms that just weren't there yet, he'd never heard that this was possible while you were on your own. A quick furtive trip to the local library turned up a couple of reasonably good books for teenagers about sex, and from this Chris deduced that what he was doing was called "Masturbation". Apparently it was very common, which puzzled Chris because, as far as he knew, none of his sex-obsessed friends knew anything about it. Since then, Chris had tried to repeat the sensation many times, and had worked out his own, decidedly individual, method: he would grip the base of his erect penis between the second and third fingers of his left hand and rub the tip (still covered by the foreskin) with the fingers of his right hand. It probably wouldn't have worked for anyone other than an eleven-year old boy, but eleven year old boys are notoriously easy to get to orgasm. Robert was Chris's best friend, and Chris had decided to let him in on the secret. Maybe this was the time to raise the subject. "Rob?" "Yeah?" "What would you say if I said there's a way that you can make it feel like you're having sex, but not really do it?" "Cor…I'd say 'how'?" "Promise not to tell anyone?" "Yeah, yeah, sure. Now tell!" "You kind of…I dunno, massage your penis - look, it's easier to show you than tell you." "Go on then." "I can't, not here in the street you idiot! Come on back to my house - my Mum won't be back for an hour or so." "Great." The two boys hurried on as best they could, given that by now they were both sporting erections that tented the fronts of their school uniform trousers. It wasn't far to Chris's house. Chris let himself in with his key, and then carefully checked in the garden, the kitchen and the other rooms to make sure that his mother wasn't back unexpectedly early. Once he was satisfied that the coast was clear, the two boys clattered up the stairs to Chris's bedroom. "Jeez I want to do this so bad…I can't wait any longer!" Chris muttered as he closed the door. Robert didn't really understand why his friend was so desperate to "massage his penis" like he had said, but he picked up some of the other boy's excitement. "Go on man, show me!" "OK, I'll go first and then you can do it." Robert noticed a tape recorder lying discarded on the floor. One of his party pieces was to imitate the commentators at soccer and cricket matches, and so he grasped the microphone and turned the tape on. Putting on a deep voice with a Hampshire accent he began. "Well, it's good to welcome you here this afternoon to the bedroom of Christopher Stratton. The weather is fine and conditions are looking good…today Chris Stratton is going to massage his penis. This should be good. "And there now we see him, just as we've seen him so many times before in the showers undoing the buckle of his belt and pushing his trousers down. We can see his underpants now - I do believe they're Marks and Spencer brand, good equipment there - and my goodness I think this youngster's already getting excited about what he's going to do today. "Now the question we're all asking ourselves is this. Will Stratton be sticking it out of the hole, or is he going to take down his underpants as well? And, yes there we have the answer: the pants are down. He negotiated that tricky point where he had to get them over the end of his penis and they're now down around his ankles. We can see his penis standing there with his balls hanging below. Two balls left." He sniggered and continued. "I reckon that penis is standing at about eight centimetres but I'm sure it's going to put on a big show for us today. This boy's got a classical foreskin still hiding the end of the weapon. Really a beautiful sight. Now, Stratton's taking his grip. He's holding it next to his body in his left hand - we know Stratton has always batted left-handed - and he's beating the end of it with his right hand. Look at this boy's action. He's really giving it a workout flogging it as though he's only got one thing in mind." Robert could see that his friend was really getting into what he was doing, and Chris was starting to stroke his tool like he was possessed. Robert himself was starting to get excited too, and he reached inside his own trousers to place his own erect penis where it would be more comfortable, up against his body rather than where it had been, pointing down by his leg. As he touched his own tool, he got a pleasant shiver in his middle. Chris was now intent on only one thing: driving his prick to another jolting orgasm. It was great having Robert, by now open mouthed and silent, watching his performance as he beat his meat ever harder and quicker. Chris hadn't learned yet that sometimes orgasm could be delayed; for him, the faster, the better. His right hand blurred as it moved faster and faster over the end of his battered but still totally rigid member. The muscles in his forearm were starting to ache, but he was so close! Just a little longer…yes…yes…YES… "Uh…uh…uh…UURGH!" Suddenly Chris's body jerked as his orgasm took over. After the initial spasm, he stopped his punishment of his engorged weapon and began stroking it gently as it jerked, again and again, as the waves of sexual pleasure receded. To Robert of course the whole thing was mystifying. All he had seen was his best friend apparently beating the crap out of his penis and then twitching a bit. He couldn't quite see why Chris seemed to be making such a big issue out of it. "That's it". Chris was panting slightly from his exertions. "Your turn now." "OK," said Robert, a bit doubtful. "That looked as if it hurt though." "Nah, it's the best. Go on, try it!" Chris watched as Robert dropped first his trousers and then his underpants. The other boy's penis was a little bit longer than Chris's own, and when it was erect the foreskin didn't quite cover it fully, the way Chris's did. It also stuck out at a higher angle than Chris's, almost flat up against Robert's stomach. "What do I do now?" "Rub it." "Do I have to rub it the same way you did?" "I guess not. Just do whatever feels good to you." Robert started out trying what Chris had shown him, but quickly concluded that rubbing his fingers across the tip of his penis was too painful - he didn't have the tip completely covered like Chris did! "Chris?" "Yeah?" "If I was really having sex with a woman, I'd be pushing it in and out of her vagina, wouldn't I?" "Yeah." "So shouldn't I be pushing in and out of something now? I want to try something else." Robert thought for a moment, then curved the fingers of his right hand round so they formed a very loose fist. He put this round his penis and started moving it up and down. At first, he was just brushing the skin, but soon he tightened his grip and was moving all the loose skin on his penis with his hand. The top of his penis popped in and out of the foreskin with each stroke. Quickly, Robert settled into a rhythm, wanting to find out just what it was that his friend thought was so great about massaging penises. It was going to feel like sex did, huh? He kept rubbing away, waiting for something to happen. Chris watched his best friend experiment for the first time with masturbation. It was the first time he had ever got a good look at another boy's penis fully erect; there had been a couple of times in the school showers when he thought one or other of his classmates had started to get hard, but they'd always hidden behind a towel or something. Robert's dick was right there inches away from him and he found the sight of his best friend masturbating was making him keen to have another go himself. He looked down at his own penis for a second, and noticed that it was already hard again. "Are you feeling good yet?" Chris found it difficult to tell whether Robert was getting close to an orgasm or not. "I dunno…it's kind of weird…like…" suddenly Robert's voice stopped. His eyes widened and his right hand, which had been keeping a steady rhythm going up and down his penis, suddenly stepped up a gear. He held his breath whilst he made the final few strokes and then let it go, explosively, as his whole body jerked as he came for the first time ever. "Oh man, that was awesome. I've never felt anything like that before, ever!" Robert gasped as he fought to get his breath back. "Do you do that a lot?" "Every day, at least once." "How often can you do it like that?" "I dunno. I don't think there's any limit. Why, do you want to do it again?" "Sure." Robert looked down at Chris's straining four-incher. You do, don't you?" "So do you!" It was true. Despite the short time, Robert's recently-abused tool was already rearing for another go. "I will if you will." "Together this time? Let's see who gets there first!" "You're on!" Robert gleefully accepted the challenge and attacked his own dick with vigor. At first the two boys concentrated on their own equipment; Chris watching how his four inches of rock hard flesh jerked around under his frantic hand, Robert marvelling at how his no less hard four and a half inches could give him so much unanticipated pleasure. Gradually though, both boys found their eyes being drawn to what was going on in each others' laps. Robert's eyes locked on Chris's penis; Chris gazed at Robert's. Both boys were thinking the same thing; both hands moved at the same instant. Almost without missing a beat, Chris's left hand was working on Robert's tool, Robert's right hand on Chris's. The two boys smiled at each other, a bit embarrassed, but neither wanting to stop. They stood up, facing each other, and continued to work away at their tasks. Closer and closer both boys neared their orgasm; Robert's second ever, Chris's first of the afternoon. Each wanted to bring the other off; each wanted to feel the rush of a fiery climax in his own body. The result was two blurred hands on two very stiff, battered dicks. "Getting' close?" "Yeah. You?" "Uh huh. Oh jeez…Yeah YEAH!" "Me too…UUURRGHHH!" The two boys orgasmed almost simultaneously, Robert maybe a second or two in the lead. For each of them, the force of their first climax at another's hand took them by surprise. Chris staggered and, as his trousers were still around his ankles, fell against Robert, knocking him backwards onto the bed, where Chris fell on top of him. The two rock hard boy-penises, still jerking in orgasm touched and then rubbed together, prolonging the mutual pleasure. Neither boy moved for quite a while whilst their dicks softened but remained pressed closely together. "Chris?" "Wha?" "Get up, I can't breathe." "Oh, sorry." Chris pushed himself upright and looked down at his now limp cock, then at Robert, still lying on the bed. "That was," he swallowed "awesome. I've never had it feel like that before." Almost reluctantly, he started to pull up his pants and trousers. "You were right. We gonna do it again?" "I don't think I could, not right now." "Me neither! I meant, some other time." "Sure." Chris reached down and touched Robert's penis gently. "Bet you never thought it'd make ya feel that good, huh?" "No way man. Thanks!" Robert pulled up his briefs and tucked his tool away inside almost reverently. He'd just had a whole new universe of sensation opened up to him, and it was going to take some time to come to terms with it. He was lucky, he reasoned, to have a friend like Chris who could point him in the right direction. He pulled up his grey school trousers, and zipped up the fly. There was nothing to show that the two schoolboys were doing anything other than idly talking together. Nothing to show that a few seconds earlier they had each been single-mindedly intent on sharing youthful sexual pleasure, their fit bodies straining in orgasm, each boy's erection throbbing in response to the hand of the other. To be continued.... -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |