The Walker Boys (the guys are real, their sexuality's probably not, the names are changed)
We'd known the Walker family for as long as I could remember, and over the course of cookouts, trips to the pool, and housesitting for each other, we'd gotten to know them pretty well. They had two sons, just like my family, and while we weren't best friends we were on good terms.
The older brother, Nick, was only a year younger than me and had gone to a private school instead of the local high school I went to. It was a shame, too, considering how good the young man looked. He had to be 20 by now, and whenever I caught sight of him walking out to his car or talking with his friends in the yard, my heart fluttered, not to mention my crotch.
Several years ago a couple female friends of mine had chastised me for not introducing them to "the hot guy" at a party we were all at. Although I feigned lack of interest in Nick, I could understand why they wanted to make his acquaintance. He'd grown up into a well-built young man, a defenseman on the lacrosse team both in high school and now that he was in college in Florida. Usually even an average guy can get me sprung just by pulling on some lacrosse shorts and tossing the ball around with his buddies, but when Nick Walker did it--man, it was a thing of beauty.
He had sandy brown hair that he left a little long, and a set of strong, squared features that simply exuded masculine confidence. He was stacked with muscle and definitely in nice shape--when he wore a t-shirt the fabric would cling to his tight pair of pecs, hanging off his delts and traps and the sleeves squeezed up by the bulge of his biceps and triceps on each arm. He could be found in the shorts he wore for his teams at school as often as in sagged jeans or cargoes, usually with his gray New Balances hanging loosely off his feet. The greatest disappointment of my experience with Nick was that I'd never caught a glimpse of his package, but whenever I thought about him I just imagined it was a good, thick, cut 8 inches. Why imagine anything else? And besides, with the rest of the body that stud had, it would have fit perfectly.
His brother was Peter, who I'd heard from his dad now went by Pete, and it's with him that this unbelievable story got started. I was home after graduating from college, waiting around for the move-in date for the house we'd be renting, living back in my old neighborhood for the time being. I'd taken up lacrosse myself in the 11th grade, and to keep my modest skills in shape I'd recruited my dad to throw the ball around with me in the park behind the Walkers' house.
As we headed toward the park, sticks in hand, we saw three of the Walkers heading out of their house. I recognized the parents right away, but to see the guy who came out with them, I'd have thought Nick was home from college. But no, this kid was a little smaller, and I finally came around to the obvious conclusion--this was his little brother Pete.
When he'd still been Peter Walker, he was just a little kid, no more than 10. Even after Nick grew up and went off to school, I still didn't see Peter as much more than my hot neighbor's little brother. But I guess there comes a point in a young man's life when he passes from that stage and acquires something else that moves him toward the man he is destined to become. And it looked like Pete Hall had crossed that boundary, because for the first time in my life, I felt my breath quicken and my jaw drop slightly at the sight of the "kid" who was now a 17-year-old high school junior. How this had happened, I didn't know, but Pete had followed his brother in starting to develop a body and a look that were pure prep lacrosse hotness.
He hadn't yet grown as tall or as big as his brother and was only at 5'10" or so but his shoulders had broadened, his chest jutted out further and his arms had thickened. Pete was really starting to fill out his body nicely. He wore a loose gray t-shirt into which his not enormous but nicely toned pecs and biceps pressed tantalizingly. I couldn't believe I was even thinking of "pecs" with this kid I'd known as a fifth-grader, but there they were, even the hard nipples showing underneath the shirt where they perched on the mounds of muscle.
Pete's face had also clearly aged, the childlike innocence replaced by the hot sullenness of a teenager, his eyes dark and brooding and his cheeks and jaw well-defined. He'd let his hair, dirty blond like his brother's, grow out into a shaggy mop--another new development that drove more power into my flaring cock.
Speaking of which, I could barely even control my eyes as they slipped down to below Pete's waist--he was just as into lacrosse as his brother and was wearing the same burgundy mesh shorts imprinted with the logo of their high school, the sagged fabric falling loosely above his sharply defined calves. I could only guess what treasures lay beneath them.
Below his solid calves, his blue and white New Balances were also loose around his feet, low-cut socks rising to his ankles. Pete Hall had finally arrived--the handsome young man I might have predicted looking at how Nick had turned out was a reality.
His dad called out a greeting and my dad answered, but I was still preoccupied with Pete, though I tried not to be too obvious. Strangely, he seemed to be looking at me too, and as soon as our parents had finished their pleasantries he finally spoke up.
"Joining the UVA lacrosse team?" he said, pointing to my stick. I prayed my boner didn't show as I heard his voice for the first time in years--the guy had clearly gone through some changes, and the loose slur with which he now spoke turned me on incredibly.
"No," I said, trying to match his relaxed tone despite my sudden desire to kiss every part of Pete's body. "We went to see 'em, though, kinda disappointing."
"They did well, though," said Pete's dad, trying to be upbeat. I gave some noncommittal response, glancing back at the young stud as often as I could. We talked for another thirty seconds, making inane small talk, but it was clear where my attention was focused. He didn't say anything more the rest of the time, instead just standing there and, surprisingly, doing kind of the same thing I was. He glanced over from time to time, smiling hesitantly but unafraid to make eye contact. Our glances met a couple of times, and unlike most times that happened with me and other guys, we both kept looking instead of immediately jerking away.
Moments later, we were wrapping up our little chat and walking off. I couldn't resist the briefest glance back, catching Pete's ass under the mesh shorts. I grinned, seeing its taut musculature beneath the fabric--this kid was hot.
Meanwhile, I was on a high. What did those smiles mean? What might this turn into? Had Pete picked up, in addition to a nice body, an orientation that might lead him to me? The questions raced through my head as I tossed the ball around with my dad. I'd mastered throwing and catching, but other skills, like shooting, were totally lost on me. My dad suggested I ask Pete.
"No thanks," I said. "I'm not asking a high schooler for lacrosse lessons." Inside, though, I realized he'd given me the perfect excuse to spend more time with him.
Just a day later, I walked over to find Pete tossing the ball against the side of his house. I watched him from a distance at first--his biceps and traps flexing effortlessly under his blue t-shirt, the white mesh of another pair of lacrosse shorts hanging loosely beneath that. His hair, tousled from the exercise, swept from side to side as he let the ball fly. I couldn't believe this guy had turned so fucking sexy so fast.
He glanced up as I walked into the yard and smiled again. "What's up, man?" I said.
"Not much," he replied, the smooth tone exciting me all over again. "Want to play?" he added, seeing that I held my stick.
"Yeah," I said. In more ways than you know. "I was hoping you could give me the basics on shooting."
"Sure," he said, thinking for a second. He glanced over to the house's empty driveway--his parents must have been out somewhere. "Let me get some balls from my room." Pete turned for the door before stopping and looking back at me. "Want to come up?"
I paused in a mixture of hesitation, fear, and immense excitement. Was Pete Hall really inviting me up to his room? "Yeah," I forced myself to say, without thinking another moment. I followed him up the stairs, savoring every instant I got to watch his ass under the mesh shorts, and we ended up at the end of the hall in his room--incidentally, the same size and shape as mine, since the houses in our neighborhood are identical. I didn't know what to do next, but luckily Pete's hormones did all the work as he turned and let me gaze into his gorgeous eyes for a split second before grabbing me by the sides of my head and pressing his lips to mine.
Wow, I thought, this can't be happening. I only knew this kid as the neighbor, the kid down the street, and in a matter of days I'd gotten the twin miracles of his transformation into a handsome prep stud and his decision to unleash that irresistibly attractive body on me. I didn't know what to do except kiss him back, and so I did.
My hands ran through Pete's shaggy hair as my tongue and lips embraced his, exploring every corner of his mouth as he probed mine. His head dropped, his lips sliding along my chin and neck as my own hands fell to caress his lower back, lifting the t-shirt as I stroked his tanned skin. He was about to dip further, his hands slipping around to pull off my shirt, but I pulled away in sudden uncertainty. Pete looked up, his warm blue eyes staring into mine. Fuck, he was hot.
"What's the matter, dude? I thought you wanted this."
"I do, holy fuck I do, but...are you sure you do too?" He smiled, and I melted--I don't know where the young hunk had learned to manipulate guys like this, but I was done.
"I've never been so sure of anything before," He said with a masculine confidence that made my dick surge straight up. This time I took the initiative, sliding my hand around his head and kissing him hard as my other hand dropped to grip his ass under the white mesh shorts. I broke away just long enough to pull his shirt up over his head, tossing it aside as I took in his upper body--for a 17-year-old he was nicely built, his toned pecs and six-pack making it clear he was a middie and not a defenseman like his brother. I kissed all up and down his neck, shoulders, chest and stomach, feeling Pete's hot and sweaty skin shiver at the touch of my tongue.
Within seconds, I was sliding my hands along his already-developed obliques to ease my fingers under the elastic waistband of his shorts. I felt him tense as I slid the mesh down slowly, carefully fingering his thighs, his tight hips, and his muscular ass.
And it was only then that I caught a glimpse of it, my eyes widening in awe and utter sexual euphoria. Pete was still just 17, and his body--though beautiful--hadn't fully developed. Except for his massive, thick 7-inch cock. My mouth actually began to water as I stared at it under his boxers, wondering how I could be so lucky as to be faced with this gorgeous developing jock, who seemingly just yesterday had been no more than Nick Walker's little brother, yet now had his monster prick out and wanted me to suck it.
I guess I was thinking too long, because I heard Pete's voice above me: "You don't want to?"
I looked up at him and saw the handsome midfielder stud staring down with that sexily dark expression. "Fuck that," I replied, and pulled down his boxers, marveling for only a moment at the impressive shaft before slipping my lips carefully around the cockhead.
Pete obviously hadn't been this aroused in a long time, if ever. Pre-cum leaked freely from the slit of his swollen dick and I drank it greedily, my tongue sliding over the first few inches. But both he and I wanted more, and I quickly began pushing more and more of the thick tool into my mouth. Pete's breath was short as I let my right hand slip around to grip his hardened ass, the left massaging his balls as I reached five inches.
I could feel his cock filling up my throat and loved it, but couldn't help feeling like I was choking on the damn thing. Then I remembered what I'd read and let my throat open. Like magic, the final two inches slid in, and Pete's nuts were nestled against my chin. He moaned as I squeezed the entire length of his prick with my throat and mouth, trying to milk the cum out of him.
It didn't take long. My neighbor was apparently so turned on by filling me up that he started to go over the edge after just over a minute. Pete wrapped his fingers in my hair and started fucking his 7-inch dick deeper into my throat to get himself off, and I was enjoying every second of it despite having some trouble breathing.
Finally Pete's entire body tensed, his abs and pecs tightening as his hands clenched against my shoulders, and I felt it come shooting up from his balls, down the shaft into my eager throat. The handsome prep's muscular body relaxed as his load poured into my mouth, seven shots filling me up with young lacrosse juice. Even as he started to pull out, I squeezed on his cock with my lips, pushing the last of his cum out onto my tongue. A few seconds later, the broad head cleared my lips and I cleaned it off with my tongue before finally letting Pete go.
He dropped onto his bed in exhaustion and sexual elation, letting his fat tool flop loosely to the side. I stood up and looked over the guy I'd just sucked off--he was just as beautiful naked as he'd been when he first made my jaw drop, his defined chest and stomach, his tousled mop of hair, the thick shaft I wouldn't have guessed in a hundred years he could possess. I took a long look--who knew what was going to happen next?
"Pete, dude...I guess..."
He sat up suddenly, that confident look back on his face. "You guess what?" he said, the force of his voice making me instantly harder. "I guess now you're gonna take off your pants and let me suck your dick."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Not only did this stud next door want me to blow him, he wanted to suck me off too? But I wasn't about to complain, and I sat back on the bed, unbuckling my belt. Pete's mesh shorts lay in a heap at his feet as he pulled my own khaki cargoes off, leaving my stiffened cock pushing hard out into my boxers. That sight seemed to really set him off, and he took to my body with a renewed lust.
"Yeah, get hard for me," he grunted as he pulled my shirt off too, leaving me naked except for the boxers, which he quickly removed as well. Compared to his thick 7-inch meat, my dick wasn't that impressive, but he seemed thrilled to gaze at my aching 6-incher. Just a couple of seconds later, he knelt down and stuck out his tongue, licking the tender head of my leaking tool. I'd only done this with a guy a couple times before, and the pressure was incredible--I knew I wouldn't last any longer than Pete had.
Within a few moments the top two inches were in his hot mouth, his lips and tongue caressing it softly. Quickly, though, he got greedier and downed the rest of it, and I felt my balls hit his square chin, his throat seizing around the entire length of my shaft. The way this kid was sucking, I couldn't believe he used to be Peter Walker from down the street. I couldn't believe he was the hot lacrosse jock he turned into, either. Neither one of those guys should have taken to my cock like this stud was.
My hands had gone exploring as Pete continued to worship my dick, running first through his soft blond mop of hair, face-fucking him for a few seconds as I gripped the back of his head and felt his throat tighten against me. I was getting closer as he slipped his hands around to grope my ass, and as two or three of his fingers poked inside my asshole, I was completely done. I moaned loudly as six sharp shots of cum--the biggest load I'd ever blown--landed deep in Pete's throat. Just like I had, he drank it all, licking up and down my softening cock to make sure he didn't miss any.
Finally I eased out of his mouth and relaxed on the bed. Pete stood up as he pulled his boxers and white mesh shorts back on, and I stared in amazement at this guy I'd just exchanged blow jobs with. He stood there in masculine beauty, his toned upper body nicely displayed with his developed pecs and broad shoulders, not to mention his well-defined six-pack and obliques that led tantalizingly toward his waistline. Below that, his still-hard prick bulged impressively into his shorts, its 7 thick and beautiful inches waiting to be unleashed again. Pete had changed from a kid I'd never even imagined sexually to a muscular prep lacrosse god--a dream fuck. And to top it all off, this 17-year-old stud was obviously into me too. I didn't know what to say. Luckily, once again he took the lead.
"That was fuckin' hot, bro." I was stunned yet again. I'd never heard him talk this way--he was on his way to becoming a tried-and-true jock, but with a cock destined to lead him more toward his teammates than to the cheerleaders on the sidelines. And that was fine with me.
I finally regained my voice. "Yeah...man, Pete, I don't know how to say this, but...you're beautiful, dude. I can't believe--that body, and that cock--and you're only 17."
"If that's what's bothering you, you can always go a little older." The voice to my right surprised me--I thought we were alone in the house. But when I turned to see who was standing at the door to Pete's room, my concerns melted away...