Hot Freshman Kid - Chapter 1
by Steve Storyman stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Copyright 2005 Steve Storyman February 3, 2005
DISCLAIMER: This story is for adults only. If it is not legal for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age either where you reside or are accessing this page, or are offended by male to male sex or incest, then do not read this story. Other standard disclaimers apply. _________________________________________________________________
NOTICE: Names and places used in this story are entirely
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons or
places is purely coincidental and unintentional. _________________________________________________________________
All of the above disclaimers and the notice apply equally to all chapters and/or parts of this story. _________________________________________________________________
PREVIEW
(a story between a 17-year-old and 14-year old high school student)
He was a cute Irish-looking kid with sexy freckles and a
wispy voice that made me hard just to hear.
I got nervous, with him standing a couple of feet from me, as
I alternated between trying to read what he wrote and
glancing up at him. Even when I looked at the sheet of paper
in front of me, all I could see was his face--burned into my
memory.
The silence was a little heavy as we both sat there, our eyes
searching for a place to be comfortable. I forced myself not
to look in his lap--even though my favorite thing had its
home there.
I was glad we were alone in the classroom. _________________________________________________________________
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Steve Storyman stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)
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SEE LIST OF MY 5 STORIES AT END OF CHAPTER ____________________________________________________________
Mark Wrent, 17 Kyle Connolly, 14
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a tender story with no rough stuff. ____________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 1
When I was about 13, I knew I was different, and realized that I thought about boys around my age when I jerked off. But then I shrugged it off, thinking maybe all other guys started out their masturbation careers thinking about boys, too.
I knew for sure I was different when at 16, I was still thinking of 13 to 15 year-old boys when I jerked off. I finally gave in to the fact that I liked slightly younger guys. At my high school there were lots of them.
I'm Mark Wrent, and I'm 19 years old now. But this story is about what happened two years ago when I was 17 and a senior at Hudson High School.
Maybe you read about me in a recent story in Adult/Youth called, "boys-joys-and-sorrows-at-sex-ed-school." I get described there as a 19 year-old student at Miles Academy, (two years after the time of this story)--but it doesn't say a whole lot about me there--at least not as of chapter 4--except I do sound kind of sexy, the way Phil describes me in that chapter.
When the events in this current story took place, I was 17 years old, 6 feet 2 inches tall, 185 pounds--a solid tight build, dark brown hair, blue-green eyes, and I play football. I like football--and I like boys. A lot.
Being on the varsity football team helped me learn how to do really good workouts, and the muscles I was going to have (two years later, at 19) were made possible by the hard work I did at the gym, even after I graduated.
I looked good and had broad shoulders and a nice smile, people always said. I managed to avoid a hardon in the showers by thinking about trig and looking at the floor or up at a guy's hair--after I glanced at a few cocks.
I began to re-live some of those locker room moments.
Dave Klein always boned up in the shower after practice. They guys were used to it, but they liked to tease him about it.
"Hey Mike! You forget to take the batteries out of that thing? Or you like what you see here? You're always gettin' hard!"
"Yeah--you just wish you could," Mike always said. He was cool that way.
And me--they found time to tease me about the size of my dick once in a while, even though I wasn't hard.
"Mark! What'd you do--swallow a vacuum-cleaner hose?"
"Maybe he ate a giant cucumber."
"Yeah--maybe. Why? You wanna touch it?" was my standard reply.
Everyone laughed, but that always ended the teasing.
The sound of a slamming locker in the hallway took me out of my memories and back to the present.
I was one of five seniors assigned to lead a group of younger students--ages 14 to 16--through a dry-run process of applying for a job. I was not thrilled about it, but I kept an open mind. I was given the title of 'group leader.'
There were five classrooms at Hudson High, one for each group leader, set up for today's mock job fair for boys--on a chilly Saturday afternoon in February. The girls already had theirs. Most of the students that came for the job fair were 14 and 15.
I ran a little late, and the students assigned to my room were restless by the time I showed up. That made me nervous, so I didn't look over each boy right away. There were eight of them.
I was glad none of my friends were in this group, so I wouldn't hear about it afterward that I was late. I'm always late for everything. If the mock job fair had been held in the morning, I never would have made it. For me on a Saturday, noon is early.
I took the chair at the teacher's desk.
My main job was to look over the fake job application forms the boys filled out, and talk to each student about what he wrote--to make him focus on what he wanted to do and why--besides just practicing filling out applications and talking about them.
I thought I had interviewed all eight students, and that I was alone in the room. When I looked up, there was one boy left.
But what a boy! Suddenly, I saw beauty. I swallowed. My mouth went dry. I called him up to the desk, and he handed me his application.
"Hi," he said shyly, glancing first at me, then staring at the back of his application form I was holding.
I didn't hold it for long--I put it down on the desk to read it because my hands shook a little. I could see by the form that his age was 14.
He looked so cute standing there expectantly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, bouncing a bit, smiling eagerly--as if waiting for words of great wisdom to come from me.
There was a kind of happy energy coming from this kid. Like, even though this should be a sort of tense moment for him, he was smiling. You would have thought he was first in line for a ride on the new roller-coaster.
I got nervous with him standing a couple of feet from me, as I alternated between trying to read what he wrote and glancing up at him. Even when I looked at the sheet of paper in front of me, all I could see was his face--burned into my memory.
I was going to ask him to pull over the other chair and sit down until I noticed the little bulge his soft dick made in his pants. It wasn't big or really obvious, but I couldn't miss it, and I wanted to keep seeing it. So I said nothing to him about sitting down. I was sure he knew I'd looked at it, but his face kept its happy expression.
My good luck--getting to be alone with Kyle--happened by accident because of this job fair--I'd always wanted a one-on-one with a good-looking 14-year-old.
And there he was, a stunning looking kid. Kyle Connolly was his name. I asked him a few questions which he answered politely and sincerely. He was so enticing, I felt a new type of nervous excitement. His swaying body and searching eyes were enchanting, but added to my tension.
Kyle was a cute, slightly Irish-looking kid with sexy freckles, blond hair, blue eyes, and a wispy voice that made me hard just to hear. He was just-right thin, and about 5 feet 5 inches tall, with a slightly longish face and a sensual expression.
Even though he wrote it plainly on his application, I asked him what he thought he wanted to do as a career.
He told me he wanted to be a massage therapist--a fact that went right to my dick, which got harder by the minute.
I took a folder off the desk and placed it on my lap to hide my fast-forming hardon. I opened the folder and pretended to read something from it before closing it. Finally, I asked him to pull the chair over and sit down next to the desk at a right angle to me.
He put his left elbow on the desk, leaned his head against his hand, and looked up at me--face tilted at a very inviting angle. He put his other hand, nearest to me, flat on the desk.
I'm usually not one for instant attraction, but I wanted to lick every inch of his face, right then. I had never wanted to lick anyone's face before, and I started to think maybe I was weird. That made me more tense. Damn--HE was the one who was supposed to be tense, not me.
We talked about massage therapy and why he wanted to do that.
"I'd like to make people feel good, and I think massaging is a great way to do that." His voice got sexier the more he spoke.
"How would you do a massage?" I asked, not knowing what else to say, peering up into his eyes--hypnotic spheres of pure boy.
Instead of spitting out a quick answer, he paused, looking very thoughtful before he answered. He licked his lips--I thought that was sexy.
"I would start with the neck and work my way down all the muscle groups. I want to take anatomy real soon," he said with charming boyish pride--his eyes lighting up and his nice teeth showing through his smile. "I'm doing really good in biology."
"That's a great answer, Kyle. You should do well in a real interview." I wanted to tell him I thought he was doing extremely well biologically.
I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to touch him. I put one finger on top of his hand.
When Kyle shifted a little in response, I took that as a positive and tapped my finger gently on the back of his hand. When he seemed okay with this, I rubbed it slowly, ending up with three fingers on his hand. I had to think of what to say--rubbing another boy like this was not exactly an everyday thing.
"In a way, Kyle, I'm massaging you," I said, looking down at my gently moving fingers. "How does it feel?"
"Really good," he said, and I looked up to see a cute, red-faced 14-year-old. "But I should do it to YOU and ask that."
"Um--oh, yeah, that would make sense. You're the one who wants to be the massage therapist," I said, blushing back at him.
"Oh--I forgot to ask your name, sorry," he said. It was one of the rules that was printed on the students' instruction sheet.
"Not a problem," I said with a reassuring grin, "my name's Mark."
"Cool. Nice to meet you, Mark. Where do you want me to do it?" he said.
Now he had my heart beating fast and my whole body in a major state of sexual shock. I panicked. 'Where?'--I was thinking 'where' like, what room--then it dawned on me.
"My biceps?" I said weakly.
"That's a good muscle," he said sounding part doctor and part boy, "but your quadriceps and hamstrings would be much better."
"Okay," I said, my voice not quite steady. I wasn't sure if I could take his hands on my legs without doing something crazy, like pulling him into a hug.
I was glad we were alone in the classroom.
"You'll have to move the chair over, away from the desk, and slide forward so I can get to your upper legs."
"Okay. No problem." I moved the chair over so it was directly across from him, and scooted forward so my butt was at the edge of the chair with my legs protruding. Actually it WAS a problem because all my muscles started shaking.
He put his one hand on top of my thigh, the other underneath it.
"How do my hands feel?" he said, pressing them into me.
"Good. They feel very warm." They felt good in other ways, too.
"That will help relax your muscles."
"How long have you thought about doing this?" The muscle I was thinking of was anything but relaxed.
"Ever since my brother pulled a hamstring in a football game, and I massaged him every day for over a week." Kyle had a huge smile on his face as he said that. His face had an innocence that made me want to hold him so much.
"How old is your brother now?"
"Sixteen. This happened when he just turned fifteen."
"Did your massage help him?"
"Yeah--he loved it, and he said it made him heal up faster. When he told me that, I thought of doing it as a career. I learned a lot about hamstrings then."
Kyle rubbed firmly but casually. His hands were beautiful, and as he massaged, we talked. I surveyed his chest, arms and middle--finding everything to be well-proportioned and very pleasing to the eye--as best I could tell with clothing on.
"I guess you did learn a lot--that feels . . . really good."
"Thanks," he said--his boyish, slightly embarrassed smile driving me insane. He kept rubbing, though.
I stared at his legs. And then I saw it--he had a boner. His pants and underwear must have been very thin--I could see the shape of the head of his dick. As soon as I saw it, I looked up again, hoping not to embarrass him by staring--or make him nervous being around me.
I had a feeling he had one of those stiff, stubborn hardons like I used to get when I was 14. The whole scene was very pleasing to Mark junior, who bounced to let me know his opinion.
I worried that my erection would make the folder slide off my lap. I no sooner thought that, when the folder hit the floor. Neither of us made a move to pick it up.
It was a good thing Kyle was looking up at me, and not down at my leg. At least he wasn't going to see that I was hard. Not now, anyway. It was a typical but very strong boner--the length of it running down my leg and the thickness pressing up against my pants.
I really stared at his bulge--looking bigger and sticking out more now. I started to picture what his cock actually looked like, and his balls, and how much hair he had there.
He looked down for a second and blushed, but kept smiling. And I took another peek at his bulging pants. He rubbed my leg harder then.
"That's nice," I said, thinking that he would wonder if I meant his massage or his erection.
"Thanks," he said sweetly, looking me in the eye, making me melt.
Although he didn't rub really high up on my leg, his hands were too close to my little buddy Mark junior for comfort. I squinted nervously, hoping somehow he wouldn't look, but he did, and got an eyeful of my obvious bulge.
There was nothing I could say or do about it now. This kid that I thought was so cute and sexual was rubbing my leg big time, and staring at my boner.
As he finished up a very good massage of my leg, my cock throbbed with its maximum energy. I gave an excited, nervous breath, and Kyle seemed to squirm, watching my dick jump--and he looked up with a quick breath of his own.
"You liked that, didn't you," he said. The double meaning was killing me.
"Yeah, you're really good," I said. I knew he meant his massage.
"Thanks," he said, starting to tremble.
"Well, I guess you proved that you really can do a great massage --my leg feels wonderful."
"I can do the other one, too." Another double meaning. Kyle either knew how to get to me, or he was finding the right words by sheer luck.
"That would be good, but--I'm on the football team, and I wondered if you thought about sports." I had to say that to do something to keep Kyle here longer. I hoped we could at least go somewhere together.
"I thought about it, but I'm not sure if I--"
"I can tell if you're built for sports. All I have to do is check out your muscles."
That made him smile. "I've seen you play," he said, blushing a bit more, "you're good. You think I could play football? I played in junior high. I'd love to try out for junior varsity next year."
"Only one way to find out if you have the muscles for it. Stand up, and I'll feel them to see if you have the right body development."
"Oh. You mean, stand up--right now?" he said, blushing deeper, and leaning forward a little.
"Sure. Unless you're not comfortable with me or something."
"Oh, no. I mean--yeah, you're cool, but um--can't you . . . check me . . . while I'm sitting down?"
"No, that won't work."
Kyle was hesitant, but eventually got up.
We both stood at the same time--and we both glanced at each other's bone. Actually, I glanced--Kyle stared, leaning over slightly to try to hide his dick. The kid was beet red. I think I was even redder. This was not going to work--it was too embarrassing for both of us.
"Uhh," Kyle moaned softly. I swore his hand moved like he was going to touch himself. The tension was thick in the air.
"Well--maybe later," I said, feeling my face get very hot. I sat down, looking into his eyes--trying to silently say, 'I'm sorry for stressing you like this.' Kyle didn't hesitate to follow my lead, and sat down as well.
He was relieved to be seated again. We both were.
He licked his lips. I loved when he did that--it sent a tingle from my neck down to my cock.
The silence was a little heavy as we both sat there, our eyes searching for a place to be comfortable. I forced myself not to look in his lap--even though my favorite thing had its home there.
Kyle was smart--he looked and talked intelligently. But he wasn't a wise guy or sarcastic--and I didn't think he spoke in double meanings on purpose.
I was pretty sure he was innocent--didn't really know about sex with another person. His dick didn't look huge, but big enough that he probably knew how to jerk off, and could shoot.
The building was quiet now, and I finally gave in and took a quick look at his lap again. His bulge hadn't gone down any. I knew mine wasn't going down for a while.
When he licked his lips, he did it not as a vulgar gesture, but as a man thirsty for something. The image snapped into place. He was timeless now, not young or old, not mature or immature. I saw the man inside him for just a moment--inside the body of a 14-year-old boy. Yes, he was a boy, and I liked boys--but the man inside him was thirsty, powerful--hungry for something.
He did it as a boyish habit, too. Sometimes his tongue would protrude slightly from a corner of his mouth when he was deep in thought. The light gleamed from his wet lips--the reflected glare pulled me in, called to me to hold him close, and the whole look of him begged for a kiss.
I knew I wanted something to happen between me and Kyle, but I also wanted to approach it gently. I was afraid to scare him off--I wanted him to be my friend.
Looking at him, I wondered what he was thinking--his steady happy expression didn't change much the whole time. His innocent look, his beauty--beyond cute--pushed itself into me like sunlight breaking through the clouds, focused now, in his eyes, dreamy and mesmerizing.
"I want you," I said in a low voice, almost a whisper. The words woke me from my dream-thought--they just fell out of my mouth, and my heart pounded in panic from what I'd said.
"What?" he said softly, as if coming out of a dream himself. I was sure he saw the tremble in my hands.
"I want you . . . to go with me to the gym. We'll work out together."
"We can do that? Now?"
"I have a key to the locker room side door. The building will be closed soon. I have permission to work out almost anytime I want. Saturday afternoons are perfect. Do you have your gym stuff here?" I held my breath, hoping he would.
"Yeah, it's here--and I have time." He bit his lower lip then, altering his cute smile only slightly.
"Cool." I didn't dare tell him my stuff was home, but he'd find out soon enough.
"Oh, I thought everybody was gone. Hey, Mark!"
It was Bernie, the janitor, checking the room and getting ready to shut down the building. That wouldn't bother me--I knew how to turn everything back on in the locker room and the gym.
Kyle leaned way forward then.
I took my sweater in hand, and used it to cover my bulge while I stood up and said hello to Bernie. He was a happy, smiley type of guy--one who would always stop to talk or listen. We shook hands.
"Are you gonna mop, too, Bernie?" I said, sitting back down.
"Oh, yeah. Can't leave no stone unturned around here. Place gotta look good, you know. Hey, I seen all your games. You get better every year, Mark."
"Thanks, Bernie."
"Yeah, well--you boys gonna stay here and make me mop around you?"
"Oh, no. Sorry. I'm gonna go work out now."
"Good thing coach gave you that key--much as you work out."
I could see Kyle's grin widen as Bernie said that.
"Yeah--I'd be lost without my key. Bernie, this is Kyle, he's a friend of mine."
By then I was soft. I assumed Kyle was, too.
"Oh, you gonna break in this young man and teach him a few things?"
"Oh, well, um--yeah," I said, blushing and stammering like crazy. "He said he might be interested in joining the junior varsity team next year." I motioned toward Kyle.
"Well, that's good, Mark. You teach him good now. I'll go do the other rooms and come back here later," Bernie said with his signature grin.
When Bernie left, Kyle and I exchanged smiles.
"He's nice," Kyle said, looking at me.
Then it was quiet again--almost too quiet. I hoped he was thinking what I was thinking--I wanted to hold Kyle so bad, I was starting to feel it was the most important thing in the world to me.
Kyle sat with his hands in his lap. He looked lost in thought again.
I guess Kyle was braver than I was at that moment, because he broke the silence.
"You have great arms and legs--they're lucky to have you," he said quietly--his eyes almost apologizing for taking me out of my thoughts. He referred to my position as wide receiver on the football team.
"Thanks. We better head for the locker room now."
He asked a few questions about the team, and what the routine was. By the time I'd answered, we were at Kyle's locker. I sat down on the bench while he opened the lock.
"Where is your locker?" Kyle asked.
"That's okay, I'll just undress with you, for now." I knew that was a daring thing for me to say, but I took the chance.
"Okay," Kyle said, shrugging his shoulders agreeably.
Since he was not objecting, I got more daring.
"Have you ever done anything, you know, with a guy?" I was really shaking. This boy had a confidence I felt, and that made me come right out with it.
"N-not really," he said. His smile didn't fade.
Kyle undressed and had my full attention. He peeled off his shirt, revealing a nicely-formed, hairless chest and a definite 'V' shape. I was impressed already. Then he sat down to take his shoes and socks off. So far, so good, I thought. He stripped off his pants and underwear all at once, and just let them fall to the floor.
His dick was beautiful--definitely on the way up, and about five inches. I took a deep breath and felt myself throb all over. I didn't care how big or small he was, but I guessed he would be a good six inches hard.
His balls were bigger than I thought they'd be, and in a hard, round knot. I knew that meant he was getting sexually excited. He had a nice tuft of soft-looking blond hair above his penis, but none on his balls that I could see.
He was damn cute, naked--with his pants down around his ankles like that. He blushed as he looked over at me.
"Do you know what turns me on?" I said. We had to whisper, just in case.
My saying just that much made him blush more. But looking back on my life from my wisdom as a 17-year-old, I think I blushed a lot when I was 14, too.
"No."
"I get really turned on when guys like you who haven't done it tell me what they've thought about doing." I watched his face. When I said, 'turned on' and 'guys like you,' he lit up.
"No kidding?" the cute 14-year-old said. "I--I guess I could tell you . . . a little, anyway."
He gulped like he was really afraid of me. I started to panic then. I didn't want to lose his friendship before it got started--even if he was smaller and three years younger than me.
"You don't have to, but, I'll tell you what I like, too--if you want," I said, trying to make it a no-pressure thing for him.
Being inexperienced, I supposed neither one of us wanted to make the first move.
"Yeah," he said--his neck bulging now with each heartbeat.
"So, what do you think of doing with another guy?" I said, standing up and facing him now, very close to him.
"Holding, cuddling--maybe kissing," he said hesitantly, watching my eyes for good or bad signals, I thought. He was damn brave to say all that.
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," I said, not able to stop looking at his erection. I wanted to say, 'sounds hot,' but I thought that was maybe pushing it.
Kyle's mouth was open and I swore I could see his heartbeat pulsating in his lips. He stared at his bone, shifting in place and wiggling like an eight-year-old. He was hard now--his cock throbbing unpredictably--a definite six inches, maybe a little longer.
I started undressing. Kyle focused his attention on me. I had been thinking I'd undress confidently--proudly showing off my body to this younger boy. Instead, I was sacred that my nakedness and my hard cock would scare him off. After all, there was supposed to be this huge gap between a 14-year-old and a 17-year-old. I wasn't feeling that gap--although I did feel a desire for his younger, cuter body.
I took off my shirt.
"Oh, your shoulders and chest . . . your abs!" Kyle said with a breathy voice, "God!"
"Just takes work and patience." I grinned at him. I had worked hard for that upper body, and was still working on it.
I copied his sequence of undressing and took of my shoes and socks next. When I stood up, Kyle's focus was laser-like.
I thought about sliding my pants down alone to give him a look at me in my boxer-briefs, but then I decided to let him see me suddenly naked. I slid my pants and underwear off like he had.
I didn't want to scare him. Because of that, I was sorry I was hard. For the first time in my life, I was sorry I had a big dick.
Kyle gasped. I had to do something.
I reached out and gently squeezed his hard cock. I figured we'd come this far, so what the hell. There is something not only very cute about fourteen year olds, but they have stiff, hot- looking boners. Kyle was no exception.
His face got the horniest, sexiest look I'd ever seen on a boy, and he scrambled to get his feet out of his pants. In doing that, he tripped, falling toward me with his arms out.
My knees were a little weak from excitement, so when his arms hit me with his weight behind them, I fell on my butt. Soon I just lay flat on my back, with Kyle on top of me.
Instantly, I hugged the boy I'd been wanting all this time.
"Oh, God!" he said, almost apologizing.
His hard dick pressed into me, with mine right beside it. My body trembled along with his.
"It's okay, Kyle. I want this," I said, holding him tighter. I thought I heard him whisper my name when I felt his tongue slide up my neck.
More? --Steve (Please scroll down for a list of my stories)
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Comments welcome. I'll reply to all substantial.
STEVE STORYMAN'S STORIES AT: www.nifty.org (Approximate Age Ranges represent current and future characters)
- hot-little-brother-series 9 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Incest/Athletics
A slim 18 y/o athlete wants his 16 y/o brother; caring;
some football & locker room fun; no long game-scenes.
Kevin & Josh. (Ages 15-22)
- i-wanted-my-big-brother 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Incest
A hot 15 y/o admires and pursues his brother--a sexy,
17 y/o high-school quarterback; caring; no sports scenes.
Chad and Adam. (Ages 15-19)
- hot-teen-brian 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Adult-Youth
A cute, smooth 17 y/o and some of his older friends
discover a liking for younger guys; hot fun; all
consensual;
Goes deep into Brian's thoughts.
Brian, Peter, Matt & friends.
(Ages 10-32; Most action: 13 to 19)
- boys-joys-and-sorrows-at-sex-ed-school 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Adult-Youth
Teens trained for mutual sex; some spank, paddling, etc;
no cruelty; some orgasm-delay teasing; exciting;
individual and classroom/group punishment scenes;
all consensual; group and couple's sexual scenes.
(Ages 13-35; Most action: ages 13-20)
- hot-freshman-kid 1 chapter so far
Nifty
A good-looking high school senior, 17, becomes fascinated
with a cute freshman, 14; story of discovery; tender; caring;
portrays several aspects of high-school life as it relates
to their friendship.
Mark and Kyle.
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)