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Related article: Date: Sun, 25 Apr 1999 09:30:10 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Chronicles Of St.Barnabas chapter11 tgp younger
11. New York I thought the train would never pull into Grand Central.
As we passed through the familiar slums, with fat women
leaning listlessly out the sooty windows, my palms grew
sticky with expectation. I had planned everything out care-
fully, aud I couldn't miss. I even had a pad. My friend Bernie
Albright was in Bermuda, and had loaned me his apartment
on Central Park West. He had sent me the keys (four of
them) just before I left school.
Bernie and I are not quite on the same wave-length; he
refers to my things as "babies"-Whatcanyoudo with them?
-while to me, even his youngest lovers look over the hill. At
first he wasn't too keen on my befouling his nest, so to speak;
but when I assured him that Ronnie was a highly presentable
,.nephew", not a bit like Times Square stuff, he relented.
As soon as I got off the train I called up Ronnie. His voice
sounded much younger over the phone. His mother was at
work, of course, so there was no danger of getting her on the
phone. Ronnie was a latch key child when he was at home,
which wasn't often-he went from school to camp to school.
No wonder he knew a thing or two.
He wanted to see me right away, but I preferred to follow
my plan, so I told him I would pick him up the next day. He
lived in Tudor City, and I arranged to meet him by the
entrance to the little garden, at ten. He sounded wistful when
I hung up, so much so that I nearly called him back, but
instead I went to Bernie's place.
I walked through the cool lobby to the self-service ele-
vator. Bernie had mentioned that the doorman didn't come
on duty until six o'clock in the evening, which was perfect
for my purposes. I rose swiftly to the seventh floor, wrestled
for about ten minutes with Segal locks, Police locks, and
every other kind of lock imaginable, before I finally gained
entrance to his young tens nude
fortress. I would have to practice working the
keys, to avoid meeting other tenants in the hall.
I entered the large living room overlooking the park. To
the right was the kitchen, and a dining alcove, and straight
ahead, facing south, the bedroom and bathroom. I put my
ear to the walls to listeii for sounds of neighbours, but, not
hearing a thing, I concluded that the walls were reasonably
soundproof. The set-up seemed perfect.
I went out to lay in a supply of snacks and soft drinks, plus
some liquor for me and passed a quiet evening watching
television. I turned in early. As I was about to turn down the
covers I saw a note pinned to the pillow.
"Dear Colin: There's naked young pre
beer and Mountain Dew in the
fridge, Girl Scout cookies (sorry about that) in the cup-
board, and KY in the bathroom. Help yourself to every-
thing, have fun, and don't worry about the sheets. Bernie."
The next day was lovely, soft and fragrant with spring. I
took a cross-town bus through the park and walked down to
Tudor City. Looking through the little garden abloom with
daffodils, I caught sight of the back view of my boy, leaning
against the iron gates. He was wearing his familiar faded
bermuda shorts, as if afraid I might not recognize him
otherwise. He looked awfully cute, and strangely small,
compared to the old ladies sitting on the benches. I suppose
that compared to the other boys at school he seemed big,
whereas outside that Lilliputian world he assumed his pro-
He greeted me cheerfully and we went off down the street
swinging our arms. When we were a few blocks away from
his apartment house, I hugged him close to my body and
kissed his ear, drinking in the sweet smell of his hair. Passers-
by smiled at such a touching father-son scene.
In Central Park we watched the sea lions cavorting lazily
in the greenish water, Then we rolled down a grassy hill,
making ourselves so dizzy we couldn't stand up. At the boat
pond we watched the little kids sail their little boats and the
big men sail their big ones, fending them off and guiding
them with long sticks. The little boys, with their shorter
sticks, lay precariously over the stone lip of the pool, their
tiny bottoms wriggling in the air as they tried to push their
boats this way and that.
Ronnie climbed to the top of a sycamore tree (strictly
against park regulations) and made forbidden young galleries
like a monkey, while I
pelted him with pebbles from below. At the lake we had a
hot dog and rented a boat. Ronnie insisted on rowing me,
leaning back all the way with each stroke, showing taut belly
and leg muscles, and a delicious glimpse of fuck young goth
upper thigh now
and then. We landed on an island, which we claimed as our
own. Then I marooned him, circling around the tiny rock
with its sole bush. When I landed again I imagined that I was
on a desert island, the sole inhabitant of which was this
After that we lay in the grass and talked, looking at the
sky. I can't remember what we talked about. All I remember
is the smell of the grass and the warmth of the boy near me.
Pretty soon we were wrestling. We rolled around in the
grass, first me on top, then him, our bodies close together,
legs and arms entwined. I sat on his Nubile young girls
stomach and when his
muscles gave way I sank into his soft entrails, pushing his air
out. Later, I let him get me down and he young oriental girls
sat on my chest, his
sweet-smelling crotch inches from my mouth, and I felt his
soft bottom squashing on me, and the hard bones of his
pelvis. Laughing, he let a drop of spit drool out of his mouth
and I caught it in mine. It tasted of boy. I wished I were
We lay on our backs and watched the crowds. Now and
then a pigeon flew over our heads. We talked of serious
things. He flopped over on his belly and sucked on a piece of
grass. I took a stalk and tickled him wherever he was bare-
his legs, his neck, his back between his shirt and pants. His
buttocks twitched inside their tight cloth casing.
The sound of the Good Humor Man, harbinger of spring,
brought us to our feet. Sucking on our frozen sticks, we
wandered across the park to the western side, Ronnie not
noticing, or caring, where we were going. Only when we left
the park and walked down one of the cross-streets did he
ask, lazily licking his ice cream, "Sir, where are we going?"
"You'll see,"i I said, feeling like an abductor, and being
excited by this feeling. When I turned into the cool lobby of
Bernie's building he was really puzzled.
"Are we going to visit a'friend of yours?"
"Not exactly," I said. Seated in the lobby was a little old
lady with a tiny black dog, equally old in dog years. I made
some inane attempt at conversation with the boy, trying to
sound like an uncle with his nephew. The old lady eyed me
fishily, I thought (my paranoia again) and Ronnie didn't
help me out, being plainly puzzled. We got in the elevator
and rode up noiselessly. Ronnie was still speechless as I
fiddled with all the locks and finally succeeded in opening
the door, which I quickly locked behind us.
"Sir, where are we?"
"Oh, just a friend's place. I thought it might be fun to
come here for a while."
"Oh." Ronnie yawned. Then he began looking the place
over. "Not a bad pad," he said. "Your friend must do
"He's in incest youngest
advertizing. It pays a bit better than schoolteach-
ing." We sat down on the sofa.
"Why don't you go into advertizing, sir?"
"There are certain rewards in teaching," I said, feeling the
nape of his neck. "Fringe benefits, you might say."
"Did you just happen to drop in here, or did we come here
for a reason?"
"For a reason."
"I thought so." He gave something like a sigh. Then he
turned to me with a strange sort of twisted smile and said,
"Sir, you really are a dirty old man."
"Right," I said. "And since you have me so neatly pegged,
let`s not waste any more time, but go into the bedroom." He
offered no resistance as I led him into the bedroom by the
hand and closed the door behind us. I lay back on the bed
and Ronnie climbed up on it too, sitting down on his heels in
a very fetching manner. The skin was stretched very tight
over his bare knees. He looked terribly boyish.
"Sir," he said, looking around the room, "I don't know
how to say this, but being asian younger nudists
here like this gives me a funny kind
"Yes, I mean, I'm not really, well, you know, that kind of
"What kind of a boy?"
"Well, sir, you know, here we are in this apartment in New
York in the middle of the day! It makes me feel kind of like-
Wcll, you know, sir."
"It feels very sinful, doesn't it."
"Yes, sir. That's it."
"You feel dirty, like a whore."
"But you're not a whore!"
"Well, Ifeel like one!" This conversation was getting me
"But what about at school?"
"That's different, sir," he said, looking down and fooling
with the fringe on the bedspread, twisting his body to show
off its lovely curves, "I mean there everyone fools around. I
mean there isn't anything else to do sometimes, because
there's just us, all the masters and boys, living there together.
But this is different. We come in from the park in broad
daylight and here we are in somebody's bedroom. It makes
me feel funny."
It made me feel great. There is nothing like sex in the
afternoon, as someone once said, and the boy's awareness of
the depravity of Nubile young girls
the situation-I could hear the cries of
children playing their innocent games in the park-only
hightened my lust. The fact that he should have been out
there in the park with a football under his arm getting grass
stains on his hot young porn
knees instead of sitting on a bed with a man who
in a few moments was going young nudist girl
to use his body sexually, only
made me want to start ripping off his clothes right away.
"Think of it this way," I said. "This young petite cunt
is kind of our club-
house, our hideout, where nobody can find us, very young rompl
where we can
get away from everyone and everything and be very secret,
and no one will ever know what we say or do here, because
this is our place."
Ronnie thought this over, looked around him again, and
said, "Yeah, I guess it is sort of a hideout. But sir, what if
your friend comes back and finds us here?"
"He won't. He's in Bermuda."
"Then it's sort of, ours?"
"It's our place. Our secret place. Nobody knows we're
here. It's our place for the whole vacation."
Smiling, Ronnie lay down beside me, kicked off his loafers
and put his arms behind his back.
"Then it's okay," he said.
The light slanted down through the venetian blinds, mak-
ing patterns on him. I stroked his hair for a long time, then
leaned over and kissed him. He didn't respond, but he didn't
object either. Gazing down the length of his body, I saw his
tentpole sticking up under his shorts. I started undoing young sex lycra
Afterwards, I lay watching smoke from my cigarette rise
into the sunbeams as the nude boy lay stretched young tight teens
me on his stomach, sound asleep. The afternoon sun slanted
through the half-closed blinds, striping his nude body like a
zebra. His breathing was deep and regular. I watched his
tender body rise and fall with each breath. I fondled his bare
bottom, letting my finger play around his moist asshole.
He had been tighter than the first time, and it may have
hurt some, but he had been most cooperate and
After undressing him slowly, I had sucked his throbbing
cock for several minutes to get him in the mood; youngest porn voyeur
then I had
turned him over and rimmed young tens nude
his delicious asshole for a long
time, until he was thrusting his soft round bottom up
towards me in pleasure. No little boy can resist being rim-
med. If only they felt the same way about being fucked!
After rimming him, I had turned him on his side, lubri-
cated him copiously, and entered very slowly. He grunted a
bit as my cock stretched his hole, but finally the tender flesh
yielded to my preeteen young porn
forceful shaft, and I entered. The almost
excruciating heat of his tight little hole had nearly produced
an immediate orgasm, and I'd had to work very slowly and
carefully to prolong it. His little intakes of breath with each
forward thrust had only increased my lust, however, and it
wasn't long before I felt my juices rising. Clasping the boy
firmly young girls galls
around the waist, I had driven into him as far as I
could, shooting my pent-up load into his hot, tight little
It had been a terrifically intense orgasm, even though I
had wished it could have been prolonged. Afterwards, I had
sucked his cock until he shot into my mouth and then fell
into a slumber.
As he lay beside me now, my hands playing with his bare
behind, my finger exploring his moist hole, I wondered
whether he would ever get used to being fucked, whether he
would ever come to actually enjoy it. I thought the latter
unlikely, though I remembered with pleasure the feeling of
having a prick inside my own bottom when I was a boy of
fourteen. Despite the initial pain I had thoroughly enjoyed
the feeling, and I hoped that one day Ronnie would find it
just as pleasurable. I had my doubts, though. Most boys
didn't really like it, though many of them liked it more than
they were young nubile naked
willing youngest porn voyeur
I snuggled closer to the naked boy, stroking young fuck portal
him. I pressed our bare bellies together and felt his young
prick rise to meet my erect one. He was half awake now, and
very sweetly put his arms around my neck. I rubbed my
prick against his, and though I knew I was not going to come
again, I thought he probably could, being thirteen. The
more I rubbed the hotter he got, and, fully awake now, he
clenched his teeth as our body friction brought him closer to
orgasm. All the while I was stroking his back and ass, and
when I was sure he was about to come I drove my tickle young feet
his well-lubricated rectum and tickled his prostate. Imme-
diately I felt a warm surge of sticky fluid on my stomach, and
as his hips thrust young angles nude
against me I kissed him deeply, my finger
still thrust deep inside his bottom. We lay there for perhaps
ten minutes. Then I withdrew my finger from its warm cave.
I got a couple of Cokes and a towel. While he lay on his
tummy drinking his Coke, I wiped off his sticky bottom,
then turned him over and cleaned him up on the other side. I
couldn't send him back home all covered with come and KY,
The sun was getting low. I knew I had better get him back,
though I longed to keep him with me overnight. On the other
hand, there was always tomorrow, I thought, as we made
our way back to his house. I left him a couple of blocks from
where he lived. We made a date for the next day and I
watched him walk up the street, his bouncing, jaunty but-
tocks seeming to invite all eyes. If only the lechers knew that
that saucy bottom was full of my sperm! Well, they could
look all they wanted, but that bottom was my private pro-
perty. Reserved parking, for young little russian
my Dart only.