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Young little russian

Young little russian

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Related article: Date: Sun, 25 Apr 1999 09:30:10 -0700 (PDT) From: bpellanon.nymserver.com 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- per proportions. 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 lovely boy! 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 thirteen again. 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 alright." "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." "Sir.,, "Hmm?" "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 of feeling." "It does?" "Yes, I mean, I'm not really, well, you know, that kind of a boy.,, "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." "Yes, sir!" "But you're not a whore!" "Well, Ifeel like one!" This conversation was getting me very excited. "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 his pants. Afterwards, I lay watching smoke from my cigarette rise into the sunbeams as the nude boy lay stretched young tight teens out beside 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 submissive. 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 bottom. 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 to admit. I snuggled closer to the naked boy, stroking young fuck portal and caressing 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 finger up 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, after all. 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.
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