The usual disclaimers = Part 6
This evening with Barry was to reveal a couple of surprises. He asked me to stand in the middle of the room, while he stepped back some six feet. His directions to me at this point confused me somewhat. "Tell me when you want me to stop." With this being voiced, he then began a series of flexes.
Right bicep flex....left biceps flex....full frontal flex with both biceps...turned around, and a double flex....frontal pose, with his right leg on the desk chair followed by a left biceps fles....left leg on the chair with a right biceps flex....then he stopped and faces me.
"You didn't tell me when to 'stop.'
"Huh?....I don't get it." "Tell me which pose turns you on and I will 'hold it;"
(Oh!...dur!!) thought I.....I nodded.
Right biceps flex....
"Stop" "You may touch" said Barry.
I then approached and savoured the right bicep, the length of his arm, the hairy armpit... "That's enough...now go back to where you were." I obeyed. ..."and by the way, you are not to touch yourself." Looking downwards at my
throbbing hardon, I nodded.
Left biceps flex...
"Stop" "You may touch.... (repeat of the above)
Full frontal double biceps flex...
'Stop"....as I approach, with each of my arms/ hands trying to work out just what do I touch, they moved from his extended arms to his hairy chest, back to his arms...back to his chest.. "Enough...."
I knew it was the signal to step back again...
Back to me, double biceps flex..
"Stop"... as I approach his back, the fact that we could not make eye contact, brough my face right against the muscles of his back. My arms wrapped around his torso, with my hands now meeting on his chest..feeling the chest hairs again but from a different angle. I pressed, I squeezed myself against his body. "Enough...."
Turning around, he then placed his right leg on the desk chair, and flexed his left bicep. His 5 inch flaccid was semi-erect, but dangling.
"Stop"...as I approached, and having made body contact on the last approach, I lost control of myself. Both arms wrapped around his frontal torso, my own left leg was raised to rest above his chair right leg. This put his manhood immediately below my ball sac, tickling it as I made the manoeuvre. the tingle rippled though my body...and as our torsos made contact, I blew my biggest load ever. It creamed Barry's crotch. I was petrified and this showed in my eyes. Barry smiled. "Good one...not bad at all." "Enough..."
As i stepped back to my position, I was trying to clean up...."No...you are not to touch yourself" Barry reminded me.
Left leg on the chair, with a right bicep flex
"Stop"....having gone the full distance, there were no more inhibitions. I approached Barry and touched his unshaven face...my right leg rested above his left leg, and I pulled myself up towards him, placing my smooth never-shaven face next to his three-day growth....and genetly rubbed my face against his, feeling the stubble and reminding myself that he was about 14-1/2, approaching 15.
Instead of saying 'enough', Barry lifted me up and took me to his bed. He lay down first, so I ended up on top of him and was allowed to continue to savour his face, his chest, his huge frame. Our penises were together and just the thought of this, led me to blow again. I was shuddering from head to toe....and Barry knew that I was cumming big time. "I'm sorry.." muttered I. "That's OK...glad you are enjoying yourself." siad he.
Then came the next surprise. Barry turned us over and now I was below. He then began to 'make love to me' in the same manner that I had made love to him. His weight pinned me to the bed. It was he who was now kissing my face, and behaving in a manner that suggested that he was relishing my body. He worked his way down, kissing my chest...right down to my 'fourandabit.' I then had a dry orgasm.
Then he turned us over again...and I was on top. I sat up, panting...looking down on his hairy chest...playing with its hair. Then came the next surprise. Barry's face began to screw as if he was about to cry! His voice changed and what emerged was something like:
"Why do I have to have the body of a 20 year old?....what can't I have a normal body like every other 14 year old...why can't
I have a body like yours(no offense, OK?)....why do I have to have a hairy chest that every body just drools over?...
why can't I have a normal 14 year old girlfriend?....why do I have to be the one that 20 year old women want to take to bed>..
Why do I have to shave my face and not have a smooth face like yours?....shaving just sucks.
I sat there mesmerized by his series of questions. Here was my man, crying like a boy. I slipped off his chest and propped myself on the bed alongside him. He began just holding my four incher in a gentle, caring manner. In contrast, I felt I couldn't touch him just then. As mentioned in part-1, I was no counselor but do recall saying: "You don't like the body you've got." "KNup...I just want to be like everyone else."
I cannot describe the rest of the night, except to say that we lay on the bed and chatted like equals. As he continued to hold my 4 incher, I felt more confident in reaching out and holding his 8.5 incher. I felt totally chilled out and tapped into my 17 year old thinking/maturity to bring some comfort to this 14 year old 'boy.'
The learning experience I had from this event is that (perhaps) most of us, if not all, want to be someone else. We can only look outwards and what we see is someone else's assets, which we then desire. In so doing, we fail to acknowledge our own assets, we disqualify those qualities and attributes that others might admire in us. Just as I might envy what other have on a physical level, they too might be envious of others...and perhaps even envious of me !