A HYMN TO BOYS IN BRIEFS
by JUSTIN SHORTS (scott_justin51@hotmail.com)
This is a first for me, an attempt to put into verse what has previously fascinated me in prose. I hope you think it works, and that the discipline of the form enhances the narrative. Feedback would be very much welcomed, from old and new readers alike.
CANTO ONE
Into the tangled wood he came that day, Dark-haired, tousled, dressed in football shirt and shorts; From a distance he seemed a schoolboy, Carrying a bag of books which made me think of school.
I was in the woods by chance, close to the lonely common, Not thinking of a chance encounter, or its likelihood. He was well ahead when first I saw him Strolling slowly onwards, as if lost in thought.
I picked up speed, wanting to overtake him, Hoping to catch a word, or just to get a better view. This was a handsome youth, that much I knew From my first glance of him upon his casual stroll.
Closer now to judge his age more clearly It seems to me that this young lad is very choice; A kid of sixteen, a year older at the very most, With a maturity that seems beyond his years.
The sun pushed rays of light between the foliage, Catching the soft white nylon of his football kit Which glistened in the sparkling sunlight And made the well-filled fabric sexier yet.
And now the kid is conscious of my steps behind. He turns his head to see my quick approach And stands aside to let me overtake him, Not knowing he is the goal I have pressed to reach.
I slow, I smile, I stop. He smiles in turn, A shy and charming smile which makes me weak. At once I feel that weakness turn to longing, And now a desperate hopefulness fills my heart.
And then I knew that this was something different, That I must not rush or I would surely fail. The boy was special, a graceful charm of teenage beauty, And worth the time involved to get inside his shorts.
For somehow I already knew that luck lay with me, And that maybe not today but sometime soon He would allow me to unfold his secrets And offer me the chance to enter them.
Was it really true that this immediate certainty Came from the knowledge of a single smile? It seems unlikely, but that was my clear reading Of his awareness of his powerful draw.
For he was in control of this first meeting, His the easy charm that held me close. Caught like a butterfly in a silky cobweb Already I was helpless in his grasp.
I offered him a word or two of greeting, Asking who he was, and where he lived. His name was Jake, he said. Yes, he was a schoolboy. His home was on the other side of town.
This was his usual route to reach his bus stop, Through the woods and to the other side. Each day he walked, in uniform or sports kit, Each day alone, and ready to be found.
And I had found him, or had he found me? All I knew was that I was firmly caught. We stood together, each aware of something Unspoken and yet powerfully profound.
His cuteness in the schoolboy sports kit, The shiny nylon shorts and top Suggested to me some porno stage set Where such a meeting turned into a routine fuck.
But this was something very different, And would need careful handling on my part. Much as I longed to slide his shorts down, And plunge my mouth upon his teenage cock
And work his balls in their soft velvet ballsac Until the creamy boyspunk pumped its load. This had to be achieved by careful planning, For Jake was far too precious to be rushed.
Too precious and also far too knowing. This boy knew what I was, and wanted more. He yearned for knowledge, saw I had it, And knowing that I had knowledge, he had power.
He read the situation clearly, And as I wondered how we would meet again, He said, with purpose, 'I'll be here tomorrow A little later, as we have a match.'
And in my turn, and as I thought quite clearly, Needing to show my hand I said: 'I'll take the quieter path tomorrow. You know the one?' I pointed to the right.
He nodded, smiled, and started walking. 'Not sure that I'll be in my kit again. I'll wear a mix of uniform and jeans I think'. I nodded, speechless, cock reacting with delight.
And with that we two parted, already linked By the briefest words on that hot afternoon. He in the first majesty of his glorious teenage, Me made younger by his easy charm.
I wanted him so badly, his beauty scorched me, And his youthful freshness made me ache. His eyes black coals that lingered with me Held in my memory for another day.
My dreams were full of Jake that night. I hoped they would be, but the vision troubled me. I dreamt of seeing him once more, Walking away, away from me for ever.
But then the vision changed, and he was with me, Wandering by my side, that same entrancing smile, The football kit, if anything more sexy, Stretched across thighs, the nylon soft and sheer.
And when I woke, my morning hard-on quivered, Already pearls of precum were dripping from the tip, But I refused this call of nature And stored my reservoir of spunk for later use.
Next day dragged by until the moment That I left my desk and started for the woods. I scarcely dared to hope that fortune Would smile upon me twice in so many days.
At first I thought that all was finished, That Jake had carefully considered his own mind, Had reckoned up the range of consequences And ducked out while still in control of fate.
But then, yes, I was not mistaken, For as I waited quietly in the wood, Behind me on the right-hand path I'd mentioned I saw Jake leave the more frequented track.
He walked towards me with steps as fast As I had taken yesterday; he smiled so broadly That I was lost again in his sweet innocence. This boy's beauty was of a transforming kind.
Gone was the soccer kit of yesterday. Instead, he wore the blazer of his school, A soft white shirt and loosely-fastened tie. But best of all, a pair of pale blue faded jeans.
If anything, this was more cute than sportswear, More casually alluring and yet more sexually charged. What lurked beneath this formal schoolboy clothing? What smoothness and what fiery hardness there?
This time I had the chance to drink in all his charms. I had not been mistaken in my estimate. Smooth-skinned features and his dark-eyed glance Were balanced by a strong athletic build.
He was not heavy, no, not in any sense; A lightly-muscled frame gave to this boy A perfect presence, with his handsome face Showing a teenage beauty with an erotic charge.
We stood and talked, of what? I cannot tell - It seemed important then, but now the memory fades. Enough to say we found it easy work. He told me of his day, and I of mine.
I do remember that he had scored a goal In the soccer match earlier that afternoon. He flushed with pride when I congratulated him And touched his arm, delighted in his pleasure.
Then came that dangerous moment, when Each of us knew the time had come for action. Either we would walk our own ways home Or I would take my chance and risk it all.
The wood was very quiet where we were. No-one came that way, the copse was thick. A moment later I had led him off the path, Down a slight bank where we were out of sight.
He followed eagerly, no hint of holding back And side by side we stood against a tree. I leant across and gently stroked his cheek He turned his face, we closed, we kissed.
That was a moment of exquisite bliss, To taste the sweetness of the schoolboy's lips. His kiss was firm, he seemed to take control And in that action urged me on to other things.
My fingers quickly tugged his white shirt free, My hand slipped in to press his young warm flesh. The smoothness and the firmness of the boy Made me breathe faster, but I did not rush.
Jake for his part murmured in his throat Accepting my invasion and enjoying it. As I caressed the flatness of his perfect belly He seemed to surrender to my gentleness.
My hand was near the buckle of his belt Which wound around the waistband of his jeans. I fiddled with it, teased the buckle free And flipped the leather fastening aside.
And next the jeans themselves invited me, Fastened by a single metal catch. I toyed with it, it loosened, and on I went, With now his zip the solitary restraint.
I thought it best to work upon his cock Through the soft denim of his pale blue jeans, So that he would become desperate for it, Begging me to wank him to his spunky cream.
His eyes were closed. I knew that was the sign For me to have a good feel of his cock, And so I touched the front of those blue faded jeans, Slipped my hand across the bulging pouch.
What met my hand was soft, and yet so firm, A juicy mound of urgent teenage joy, Starting to swell within the jeans Was the hardening cockmeat of this glorious boy.
I felt the length of his hot cockmeat swell To meet the careful massage of my touch. I stroked and pressed this ever-growing shaft, Which gave and moved within its denim nest.
Sliding beneath the surface of his jeans I also felt the texture of his briefs. Slippery and tight, revealing yet concealing, They made his cock feel juicy, hot, and big.
He shucked his blazer, his shirt fell open wide, His soft warm flesh shone in late afternoon sun; The throbbing pack of boycock filled my hand And gratefully I pressed and pushed the teenage mound.
The shape of him was clear, the shaft defined, And further down the fullness of his balls, Filled with their store of fresh young schoolboy cum Felt heavy in the confines of his pants.
His eyes were open wide and fixed on me As constantly I worked the cock beneath the jeans. Clearly he wanted me to carry on, To tumble him towards the final goal.
I felt it time to slide my hand inside, To slip the zipfly of his denims down, And as I opened up the willing kid I worked my hand into the opened jeans.
Oh God, the warmth in there! A hot young cock Trapped in confining underwear. My fingers gripped his shaft through briefs Already damp and slippery from his juice.
And now I worked more precum from his cock, His briefs were getting very wet. They felt as soft as satin to my touch, The silky wetspot spreading from his tip.
They seemed too tight for briefs, what was he wearing? I was desperate to know the truth; I sank to my knees in front of this young teengod And pulled his jeans downwards to the ground.
And then I gasped, these were not briefs at all But bright red nylon speedos, tight and packed With throbbing teenage cockmeat, and at the front The dark and spreading patch of precum tempted me.
How could the kid have known my nylon penchant? I love to wear tight thongs and seethrough briefs, To feel my boiling cum begin to build Ready to be pumped into the sexiest fabric that I know.
But better still, to worship at the shrine Of a young teenboy similarly attired, In bulging nylon, a g-string maybe or a thong, Enjoying the feel of nylon on his tingling knob.
Did Jake enjoy my passion, had he chosen Nylon speedos knowing we would meet that day? My hand caressed his hardness through the nylon, Feeling the fullness of his boymound in the sexy bag.
As I looked, the outline of his hard-on Showed the mushroom plumhead of his knob, Fleshy and full, I worked it with my fingers, Feeling yet more precum oozing forth.
'Oh yeah' I muttered, 'Oh God, I love your big cock Showing through that soft and bulging pouch. Your speedos are so horny, so fucking sexy, How I'd love to watch them filling up with spunk'.
Again he smiled, and then he just amazed me By reaching out and touching me in turn. I stood, he found my flyzip, flipped the button open, Slid his hand inside and reached my bulge.
By now my cock was panting, wet and tingling Throbbing in a pair of seethrough briefs, White, in softest sexiest nylon The kind in which I often shoot my cum.
This boy knew just what he was doing This was not his first time at the game. He worked my cockhead through the nylon, Teased out more precum with his thumb.
I maintained my stroking of the schoolboy, Feeling his foreskin moving at his tip. I moved into a firmer wanking action, Wanting to bring him on towards the edge.
'Oh God' I said 'I need to suck you, I have to smell your hot and juicy cockmeat Oozing precum in your speedos. I need to lap That heavenly nectar with my tongue'.
He nodded and I sank before him Worshipping the bulging speedo mound. The nylon pouch was sodden now with precum And hotly scented with his juice.
My mouth closed up, and now I sucked the nylon, Sieving precum through the mesh. Noisily I drank the glorious teenjuice Feeling the hardness pressing on my lips.
Next, I gently tugged the speedos downwards His shaft sprang forth, so hard, so wet, The glistening knob dropped pearls of dewy sweetness And hovered inches from my mouth.
His honey-glistening tip eased free From the lovely covering of his sheath. Oh yeah, this boy was wonderfully complete, His protecting foreskin the icing on his cake.
His speedos tucked beneath his shining balls, The soft black bush of his protecting hair, The sticky precum in its cobweb strands, All this set off the schoolboy's glimmering shaft.
The odour of excitement filled the air, My nostrils took in all his hot desire, My own cock wept within its nylon pouch And soaked my briefs with dripping precum juice.
I reached inside my gaping fly and stroked My aching cock within the seethrough briefs; Gently I wanked my close-to-spunking shaft And brought it to the edge of heavenly bliss.
And now I closed my mouth around Jake's tip, Took his hot cockhead within my grateful lips, Drank on the heady silk and almond mix Which flooded freely from his skin-taut shaft.
He groaned and pushed his cock in pulsing fuck strokes As I bobbed upon the youngster's knob, Eager to take the hot and creamy boyspunk That soon would pump into my willing mouth.
I felt him tense, and then I saw him buckle, As he felt the bolt of jizz begin its run, A moment passed, and then his groaning Announced the arrival of thick wads of cum.
He came, I slurped, the spunk was warm and creamy, A torrent of his boyjuice flooded me. It filled my mouth, I gratefully received it, The potent scent of teencum, a honey flood.
I knew this kid was used to having blow-jobs, The way he pumped his spunk suggested that. He seemed to want to maximise my pleasure By moaning as I sucked his teenboy cock.
I jerked my own in masturbatory frenzy Wanting now to shoot my own creamy load Of cumjuice in my briefs, which clung around My throbbing shaft trapped in its nylon mesh.
A few more strokes, and then another, I trembled, shuddered, felt my orgasm build, Intensity of pleasure wracked me, My foreskin pulled right back, my knob end shone.
And that was it, for now came an explosion As my boiling spunk began to shoot Into the seethrough briefs of purest nylon Through which some drops of cum began to ooze.
A mouthful of Jake's spunk, I drank it keenly, My briefs were cum-soaked, heavy, full, That afternoon would live for ever - I knew that we would not end things there.
And I was right, for we exchanged phone numbers As sheepishly we parted on the path. I asked Jake to my flat, he accepted, We fixed an evening for that day next week.
And best of all, Jake said, without my asking That he would bring his nylon soccer kit along. My cock, so recently exhausted, twitched, Hoping to pump cum in nylon briefs again!
That's the end of the first Canto. The second is written, and I am just revising it. Should I go on? If you enjoy having fun in briefs, get in touch. scott_justin51@hotmail.com