This is the second part of the story of Dan Reed and Milo de Beer -- D'n'M. As before, it includes scenes of sex between teenage boys and, in one instance, involving a boy and an adult man. However, sex is not the main driver of this story and often there is none at all. Part 2 consists of 21 chapters, all of which are written and which will appear on this platform twice each week. It will make more sense if you read Part 1 before starting on this second instalment.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
D'n'M Part 2
From Chapter 1
"But be careful," the soccer coach was saying. "You're only fourteen and clearly still developing, in all areas of your body," he added with a quiet smile on his face, looking straight down at Dan's newly-inflated bulge. "And if you do everything I've suggested," he concluded, "You'll be even more of an asset to the team than you already are. Now then boy, I've got to go. Get yourself dressed and close the door behind you as you leave. Oh, and Daniel."
Daniel? No-one ever called him Daniel. "Yes sir?"
"Come back and see me in a few weeks' time. So I can check on how your body is, er, progressing."
And with that he was gone. Dan had never dressed so fast. Within a couple of minutes he was out of the office and running down the corridor in search of Milo. He couldn't wait to explain to him how weird that whole encounter had become but, much more importantly to a hormone-flushed and horny fourteen year old, just how much closer he was to being Beth Harper's next boyfriend. Yay!
Chapter 2.
Reluctantly, Dan admitted to himself, that if he was going to follow the advice given to him by the soccer coach on how to improve his body, he'd have to get his dad involved. This wasn't really a problem as both he and his big brother, Tom, had always had a close and open relationship with their father. Dan was sure that his dad, a regular and enthusiastic gym-user, would be pleased to advise him on all aspects of physical development. No, Dan's reluctance was down to the fact that he was embarrassed to have to admit that the main motivation for this sudden interest in improving his body was to impress Beth Harper.
"Well, that's no problem," declared Milo, "I'll just tell him the same as I told Mr. Roberts -- that you're keen to build up your body so you can be a better soccer player. It worked with him so there's no reason your dad won't be taken in, too."
"That'd be great. Thanks M. And it's not completely a lie `cos I am keen to be less of an easy target on the field."
"Okay, it's a deal. Though I still can't see that Beth Harper is worth all this effort."
"No, well I guess we'll never agree on that one. Now let's go and find my dad before you change your mind."
So it was that, the following weekend, Dan, his dad and Milo drove downtown to the nearby AR Sports store.
Being a long-time runner and paid-up member of the local gym himself, Roger Reed had made it clear that, although he was 100% supportive of Dan's ambition to improve his fitness and work on developing his body, he insisted that it be done safely and with no risk to his early-teen physical development. He remembered how Tom had been just the same at that age, desperate to get a guaranteed place in the swimming team and how much time and effort he'd put into building the perfect swimmer's physique. And it had certainly paid off. Tom was now a regular fixture on the team and had even begun specialist training with a view to becoming a member of the national elite squad. Maybe D was heading in the same direction with his soccer. Now that would be something.
Arriving at the store, Mr. Reed explained that he was there simply as back-up. As far as he was concerned, this was D's show and he should take the lead in any conversations and negotiations with the staff.
"Ok dad," said Dan nervously. "As long as you promise to help me out if I start to make a mess of things."
There he goes again,' thought Milo. Why can't he see that he's got no reason to doubt himself? He's such a great person and he's got everything going for him. It makes no sense.'
However, what he said was, "No worries, D. I'll back you up if you get stuck." Then, looking round and spotting one of the assistants, "especially if you get him to serve you."
"Who?"
"That guy over by the swimwear."
"But why him?"
"Because he's hot!" whispered Milo, not keen for D's father to overhear.
Dan gently punched Milo on the arm. "Behave yourself, M. Oh crap, he's coming over. Stand behind me and don't say a word."
Both boys watched as the object of Milo's enthusiasm made his way towards them. Even Dan could tell he was good looking, though he'd leave it to M's particular inclinations to decide on his level of hotness. In his late teens or early twenties, the assistant stood around 6 feet tall and was definitely an excellent advert for a sports goods store, being slim, with unblemished pale chocolate skin and a wide smile. The store uniform of tight-fitting green polo shirt and fitted shorts left no doubt that he was no stranger to working out himself. Milo's tongue was virtually hanging out. D nudged him again.
"I said behave."
"I'm just looking," Milo responded with a tone of injured innocence, not for one second taking his eyes off the approaching Adonis.
"Hello folks, my name's Tye. What can I do for you today?"
After introducing himself, his dad and Milo, Dan explained the reason for their visit and outlined the amount of money he was able to spend.
"Okay," said Tye. "So, before we start deciding what equipment to buy there are a few basics I need to explain. How old are you Dan?"
"Fourteen," Dan replied.
"Me too," interjected Milo.
Tye smiled at him. "Right. Well, at fourteen you've got a fair amount of growing still to do which means that your bones, in particular, need to be protected from too much strain until they're fully formed. If you're going to do any work with weights, we need to be sure you don't overdo it."
"So what would you recommend?" Milo asked, his eyes glowing with obvious admiration. Dan's eyes rolled.
"Difficult to say. A lot depends on what you're trying to achieve but also on what sort of foundation you've got to build on."
"Huh?"
"What I mean is that you don't want to begin either too hard or too easy, `cos either way you'll soon get discouraged and give up. I've seen it happen time after time," Tye explained.
"What do you usually advise, when a boy's just getting started?" asked Mr. Reed.
"So much for you keeping quiet, eh dad?"
"Are you thinking this is for working out at home?" asked Tye quickly, keen to avoid any sort of father/son friction and not realising that this was just another example of standard familial banter.
Roger Reed nodded.
"In that case I'd recommend a combination of aerobic exercise -- lunges, squats, push-ups, the sort of thing that your Phys. Ed. teacher at school could explain to you."
Memories of his experience with Mr. Roberts earlier in the week instantly flashed up in Dan's mind. His lips curled into a grimace at the idea of having to go back for more `advice'. He could still feel the teacher's unwanted wandering hands on his body.
"Then, in terms of weight work," Tye continued, "I suggest you start out with dumb bells and kettle bells, no more than 10 kilos. With dedication and a positive attitude, it shouldn't be too long before you can up that to 15, then 20 kilos. But don't be in too much of a rush. Better to go slow and steady than try to do too much too soon, `cos that way you're likely to do yourself some serious damage."
Dan noticed his dad nodding in agreement.
"The most important thing, and I can't emphasise this enough," Tye's face took on a very serious expression, "is the need to maintain good form and posture."
"How can the boy make sure he's doing it right?"
Tye turned to Dan. "Well, there are on-line videos that can demonstrate the correct techniques and provide a good starting point, but the best thing is to have a reliable work-out buddy. That way you can work together to make sure you're both doing it right."
"That sounds like a job for you, M. You and D spend virtually every waking moment together. Are you up for it?"
`If only you knew how up for it I am!' thought Milo, not that he was about to put that thought into words.
"Sounds good to me, Mr. R. We can do it after school, or in the morning on the weekend if I stay over."
Of course, Milo wasn't trying to kid himself, he knew D was straighter than straight (his on-going obsession with Beth Harper was proof enough of that) and he would never do anything to threaten his relationship with his absolutely very best friend in the world, but the prospect of having both reason and opportunity to spend time with D, pumped and sweaty, was like an unrealisable dream cum true.
Dan nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He'd been half afraid his dad would volunteer himself for the buddy role, and that would be just too weird, however close their father/son relationship. Dan realised that Tye was still speaking.
"Also, it doesn't matter how hard you work on your fitness, it won't have the desired effect if you don't follow a sensible diet too. So no junk!"
"No need to worry about that. The only junk in our house is what's between the legs of the males of the family."
"Da-ad!"
"It's ok son. We're all guys, and besides, your mum's not here to give us one of her `looks', so relax."
Milo grinned. He loved it when D's dad teased him and he momentarily allowed himself to wish the relationships within his own family would allow such banter, but he knew, only too well, that there was no chance of that, not with the constant tension between his parents and his sister's lowest of low profiles. But this was not the time to dwell on the short-comings of his home life, he was keen to get the conversation back on track.
"Is there anything else we'll need?"
"We-ll," said Tye, almost reluctantly, "As we are all guys here, and as the subject of junk has been mentioned, you might want to think about what sort of support you'd like."
"Support?" queried Dan. "I thought we just agreed that me and M would support each other."
Roger Reed burst out laughing and Tye couldn't help a wide grin from stretching across his face. Dan just looked puzzled.
"What Tye means, son," said Dan's dad, continuing to chuckle, "is the support your junk might need when you're working out -- what to wear under your shorts to stop everything bouncing around."
Dan flushed a deep shade of crimson and Milo also turned away in embarrassment as he, too, had failed to understand the true meaning of Tye's comment.
The assistant hurried on, keen to reassure the two boys. "Some guys are happy with a well-fitting pair of briefs or boxer briefs, but compression shorts are really popular too. They sort of make the whole business of working out feel more special and important."
Mr. Reed nodded in agreement. "When you're older and a bit more developed down below you might decide to opt for a proper athletic support, but for now I agree with Tye."
"Athletic support?" questioned Dan.
"Commonly called a jock strap. But it's your choice."
Dan really wasn't keen to continue this conversation about his pubescent junk and suitable work-out underwear in a public place, even with his dad and his best friend.
"Compression shorts sound good," he said quickly. "Some of the other guys on the soccer team wear them. Yeah, that's what I choose."
"And what about you Milo, what would you prefer?" asked Tye.
"I don't really have a choice to make," Milo replied sadly. "I don't have cash to spend and I'm pretty sure my mum would think it was a waste of money, so I guess I'll just stick with my normal underwear, or maybe an old Speedo."
Roger Reed could see the disappointed look on Milo's face, a look he'd become very familiar with of late, and decided this was a moment to step up. "I'll tell you what M, as you're going to be doing D a favour by working out with him, why don't I treat you to a couple of pairs of compression shorts too?"
"Oh, really? That'd be great Mr. R. Thanks. But could I keep them at your place? I wouldn't want to forget them and then not be able to work out. That wouldn't be fair on D."
Roger Reed heard what Milo said but he knew that, in reality, there was altogether another reason why the boy didn't want to take his gift home and it had nothing to do with being forgetful and everything to do with his suspicious and small-minded mother.
"No problem, M. That'd be fine. Your shorts can go into the washer with D's."
"Great," said Tye. "So, with that settled, all you two need to do now is make your choices. We've got quite a wide range over in the sportswear department. Do you know your sizes?"
Milo shook his head, Dan nodded. "Okay Dan, if you go with your dad, I'll come and join you once I've had a word with Milo, here. We'll just be a few more minutes."
Dan and his dad moved off to the far side of the store as Tye turned to Milo. "Okay, Milo, if you'd just like to follow me to the changing area so we can have a little more privacy."
Privacy? Now that sounded interesting. Instantly, one half of Milo's mind -- the frisky, risky half - suddenly found itself trying to work out the precise meaning of what Tye was saying. What did he mean by `privacy'? Could he be implying ...? No, that was just wishful thinking on his part. Then again, Tye had found a completely plausible way to get him on his own and away from D and his dad. And Tye was really hot, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by that half of his mind and all of his dick.
"You coming, Milo?"
`If only!' thought Milo. "Oh yeah, sure," he said, following the hunky assistant to the back of the store.
Once inside the changing cubicle Tye turned around and fixed the door latch.
"Right, Milo, that makes sure we won't be interrupted."
Milo's heart began to beat a little faster as his imagination started racing at 90 miles an hour.
"Now, if it's ok with you, I need to take a couple of measurements to make sure you get the right size shorts."
"S'fine. Where do you want me?" Milo asked. "To stand I mean," he quickly clarified.
Tye grinned. "Just in the middle here will be good, facing the mirror. I need to know your waist size to start with, so I'll just ask you to loosen your jeans so I can take an accurate measurement. And if you could stand with your arms out to your sides?"
Milo quickly did as he was asked, unfastening the top button of his jeans and then, despite having not been asked to, pulling down the zipper an inch or two (that frisky half of his mind at work again). A small area of patterned jockey shorts was reflected back at him from the mirror. Tye produced a tape measure from the pocket of his uniform shorts and then reached behind Milo with both arms to position the tape around his waist.
Was it his over-active imagination, or maybe hope, or just teenage lust, that made Milo think that the store assistant kept his body very close to his own for just a little bit longer than was strictly necessary? True or not, Milo's dick, which had returned to its standard flaccid state, started to liven up once more.
"Twenty-eight inches. That's what we'd class as a size small, bordering on medium," explained Tye.
Twenty-eight inches. That would be some dick,' mused Milo. And then, when he noticed Tye's puzzled expression, For crap's sake, Milo, behave yourself and keep your mind on the job - both halves.'
"You're at the high school, yes?" asked Tye.
"Yeah," replied Milo, not particularly keen to be thinking of school on the weekend.
"You ever have Mr. Roberts, the Phys. Ed. teacher?"
"I have him for gym sometimes, but Dan sees more of him than me `cos he's on the soccer team and Mr. Roberts is the soccer coach. What about him?"
"Well, it's not really my business," continued Tye, "but I've heard a few stories about Mr. Roberts. You might want to tell Dan to be a bit wary of him."
Milo was briefly puzzled by Tye's warning. It was only a couple of days ago that Dan had had his one-to-one with Mr. Roberts and afterwards told Milo what a weird and decidedly creepy experience it was. However, he didn't have the chance to give it any serious thought as the next few minutes were ones that would live long in Milo's memory, being replayed over and over again as he did what all teenage boys do in the privacy of their bedrooms (and many other places.)
To begin with he felt his inner thighs being gently tapped as Tye, now kneeling behind Milo, explained that he needed him to spread his legs a little wider so that he, Tye, could take an inside leg measurement, because, of course, it was important to know whether Milo would need regular or long fitting compression shorts. Frankly, Milo couldn't give a golden damn for the specific reason for this particular measurement, the sensible half of his mind having completely switched off as soon as Tye's hand touched him so deliciously close to the underside of his ball sack (even though it was encased in a double layer of denim jeans and jockey shorts).
Milo was next aware that Tye was no longer kneeling but standing directly behind him, the store assistant's long, toned body pressed up against his back, butt and legs. Looking directly into the mirror, Milo saw Tye's hands begin a slow, undulating journey from his chest down towards his waist and ....
"Tell me if you want me to stop there and my hands won't go any further. Do you?"
Even if Milo hadn't lost the power to think, let alone speak, there was no way he would have told Tye to stop. Heck, he was the hottest human he had ever set eyes on, and besides, if his rock-hard dick and churning balls didn't get some attention soon there was going to be all hell to pay later. By way of reply to the question Milo watched himself take one of Tye's hands and guide it under the bottom of his T-shirt. The hint was immediately taken and Tye's hand began to move over the smooth skin of Milo's upper body, gently across his tightening abdomen and up towards his chest and rapidly hardening nipples.
Milo saw that Tye's other hand needed no additional instructions, circling the younger boy's tummy button and travelling south to fully open the zipper. The front flaps of Milo's jeans fell open, revealing more of the patterned underwear and giving his pulsating dick some desperately-needed throbbing space. Milo's eyelids closed with a blissful sigh as he felt probing fingers running up and down the length of his boyhood. If anything his dick became even harder and more thrillingly sensitive. He would have collapsed to the floor had Tye's strong arm not been cradling him around the chest.
"That's a serious piece of young man meat you've got there, Milo my friend, a really hefty handful. And from the amount of pre-cum its leaking, I get the feeling it's pleased to meet me."
"Hmmm." That was the limit of Milo's ability to communicate at that moment.
No sooner had an unspoken plea for his dick to be released from the prison of his underwear flashed across Milo's mind than he felt the snap of an elastic waist band against the underside of his balls and a wave of fresh air sweep over his throbbing rod. Tye's expert fingers closed around it. At the same time he brought his mouth to Milo's ear and whispered, "You've got a really beautiful cock. It feels as if it's ready to have some fun."
"Yes please." Milo had finally found his voice once more. "Please. I sooo need to cum."
The pre-cum leaking from the tip of Milo's dickhead made it easy for Tye's hand to begin a steady up and down stroking motion. This was like nothing Milo had ever felt before. His dick was awash with warmth and expectation, from the tip to the root, as Tye continued the masturbatory massage, simultaneously licking and nibbling the back of Milo's neck. With all his attention fixed on the parts of his body that were providing maximum pleasure, Milo was unaware of Tye's rigid seven inches being rubbed determinedly against his lower back. No, he was only conscious of the wonder of having another hand on his dick for the first time, the flaring of his oh-so-inflamed dickhead, the tightening of his balls in their hairless sack and the almost unbearable pleasure as they released their load. Milo opened his eyes just in time to see a reflection of his pulsating dick shoot four strong bursts of perfect teenage cum further than he had ever shot before.
"That was the cum of a real champ." Milo could only nod in agreement. "Feel free to come back to see me any time you like."
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