StoryCampfireBoys4

Chris knew he was in trouble. The pressure of sitting near Michael was simply too much. Looking into the angelic face of what was undoubtedly a clever little devil, his eyes consuming every movement of Michael's subtle, vernal body and the soft hungry voice sliding out between the most beautiful lips Chris had ever watched. All of these things were beginning to overpower Chris and he had to get away from the impending disaster of his exploding passion or at least get it out of the view of his neighbors. He knew that the trailer was a trap but he also knew that five more minutes with Michael siting there only inches away at the picnic table would spell disaster. "I can't get sexual with a fifteen year old kid. I simply have to take charge of my feelings and keep a safe distance until I can figure out how to handle this," Chris thought, "God! I can't send him away either. I should. I must, but I know that I can't." The superposition of excitement, lust and doom invaded Chris' being and he proceeded as a doll on strings controlled by some other power that he had no communion with. Chris' mind wouldn't stop spinning and his stomach ached right down to his balls from the intensity of the sexual tension.

Chris opened the door of the trailer and stepped up into the kitchen with Michael hot on his heels. He could feel the heat on the back of his legs from Michael's breath even through several steps ahead of him. "Yeah, this morning I'll play it safe" he had decided, "and keep my blue jeans back on. Michael doesn't need any encouraging." But it was already too hot for jeans and the day would get hotter. So on went the cut-offs. Chris opened the cupboard door under the sink and brought out the dish soap and drainer which he sat next to the sink. When he reached for the faucet, Michael's arm was already there.

"Hey, Chris, why don't you sit down and finish your coffee." Michael's voice was soft and compelling. "You fixed us breakfast. The least I can do is wash the few dishes."

"Oh? Gee that'd be great and very thoughtful, Mike. Gotta wash the skillet out too, ya know" Chris sat down and swung his legs under the table as Michael sat the coffee cup in front of him and reached for the coffee pot.

"It's nearly empty. Want me to make you some more?"

"Naw, much more than half a pot and I'm climbin' the walls, Mikie. Just rinse it out and set it back on the stove, if you will. Thanks." Chris reached across the table a drew the student sized portable typewriter up in front of him, pulled a fresh sheet of paper off the shelf behind him and loaded it into the typewriter. "You're going to tell me something more about your self and I'm going to take notes..... okay?"

"God, a typewriter? Where'd that come from?" Michael's voice showed both surprise and the ever-present giggle. "I had no idea that those dinosaurs still walked the earth," he laughed.

"Dinosaur? Well, I guess they are kinda rare." Chris said in defense. "I use a word processor at home but it's too awkward to drag down here every weekend. So I use my dad's old typewriter. Hell, I just put a new ribbon in it and it works fine. Now how about starting over from the beginning and tell me about yourself. You talk and I'll type. Hopefully, we'll get enough of a profile down on paper to allow me to think about developing you into a character for my next chapter." Chris paused a second and then asked, "Why don't you start with where your were born and how old you are." "Gotta be at least 15" Chris thought to himself.

Soap bubbles were becoming visible above the level of the sink and little clouds of silky white bubbles had attached themselves to the undersides of Michael's arms. "Well, I was born in a suburb just outside of Cincinnati on June 27th of 1983."

"What? Oh, come on Michael, that'd make you seventeen”

“Eighteen at the end of this month” came Michael’s reply.

“But, you can't be a day over fifteen, sixteen tops." Chris pushed the typewriter back toward the wall.

"Fifteen?" Michael cried "hell, thanks a lot, Chris. Ya think I'm just a baby! Well, I'm not and you can.... can stop that...Mikie shit too! Mike is just fine, but I prefer Michael.." And as he looked back at Chris over his shoulder, the skillet he was washing slipped out of his hand and into the sink of soapy water.

“Oh shit!", Michael cried, as he jumped back from the wall of water gushing up at him. "Shit, got my t-shirt all wet..... Damn!" And in one deftly executed motion, the t-shirt swept up over his back, over his head and Michael was standing there again in only his pale blue and soapy soaked cut-offs. The shirt was on the table now and Michael, in another quick move, was kneeling on the bench next to Chris. Before Chris could react, Michael swung his soapy arms around Chris' shoulders, and locked his lips against Chris'. "I'll show ya fifteen" he growled.

Chris' initial reaction was surprise and he pulled away. But Michael's lips never lost contact and Chris' desire overpowered his senses. In an instant, Chris had wrapped his arms around Michael's soft sweet body and they fell into a succession of deep kissing. The typewriter went sailing across the table but Chris had lost all awareness of the world outside of those lips. His head wasn't swimming, he wasn't dizzy, his scolding inner-self was silent. Chris wasn't thinking at all but he had never been so alive. His mind overflowed with feeling, lips against lips, tongue touching tongue, the taste of saliva and soap bubbles, Michael's baby soft cheek sliding over his day old beard. his hands sliding back and forth over Michael's back, along and down his sides, up and over his shoulders, his soapy arms tracing out every line, every curve. His mind recording every square inch of Michael's soapy wet body. Michael's hair, it's familiar touch and tickle, it's taste, the texture of blond curls against his tongue and lips. The touch and the texture of the top of Michael's soft blue cut-offs, Michael's spine and the sudden warmth as his left hand continued it's unguided exploration down along the gentle bumps of Michael's spine and under those cut-offs. Chris's mouth was wide open and his tongue and teeth were tracing along Michael's neck down to his rounded shoulders. Their eyes never met. Their ears only recorded the hungry moans that uttered forth from somewhere within them. Their minds were locked in a passion that had found it's way up from the depths of their souls. Sight and sound were drowned out by the ecstasy of touching and exploring, of smelling and tasting, of giving and of owning, of being one with a passion that erupted from within both beings, a passion so powerful as to challenge their beast, locked away from the food of life for so many years, to explode from it's bonds and devour everything in it's path.

As Chris continued to bury his face into Michael's writhing body, Michael began panting louder and louder and crying between gasps for air "Oh God! Oh God." His body was becoming more and more animated and he swayed back and forth while pushing himself upward guiding Chris' face and hungry mouth closer and closer to the center of his passion. Chris and Michael were no longer aware of where they were or what they were doing. Each body seemed to know what to do and how to move in concert with the other. All that they could hear was the sound of each other's breathing and gasping, the sound of tongue, lips and suction against wet skin and the muffled sound of "Hey Mike, you in there...... Mike"

Chris awoke to the alien and most unwelcome sound first and pulled away from Michael's warm, saliva soaked stomach.

Michael's hands were on the back of Chris' head, his fingers entwined in Chris' hair and he instinctively pulled the sucking, kissing mouth back onto his stomach. It was so near now. "Oh God, don't stop. Please don't stop".

But Chris slid his hands up along Michael's sweat soaked body, around his back and pulled Michael down toward him.

"Shhhish, Michael, Shhhish! Quite baby, hold on"

"MICHAEL!" came the voice. "You guys asleep?"

"Wha? What?", Michael had now become aware of the real world and Chris buried Michael's face in his chest to muffle the sounds of passion.

"Wait, babe, be quiet and maybe hell go away," Chris was nearly pleading.

"But he already knows I'm here. That's Terry, one of the guys who's camping with me. I told him that I'd be here......Sorry, Chris but I better answer."

"Yeah", Chris agreed

"What? YEAH, WHAT?", cried Michael through the closed window.

"Hey, guy, been waiting for ya for nearly half an hour. It's one o'clock and we were going shopping at 12:30. Come on, let's get going. The rest of the guys are waiting down at your camper"

"Yeah! Hold on, Terry. I'm doing dishes and covered with soap. I'll be done in a few" Michael stood up, looked down at himself and a big smile replaced the frown and smoothed out the furrows in his forehead. "Can't go out there like this" he chirped, reaching for Chris' hand and then rubbing it back and forth over his sizable erection. "Oh, God, I don't want to go, Chris." Michael tightened his grip squeezing Chris' hand which cupped his erect penis. A bolt of lightning shot through his body and he nearly stumbled to the floor.

"I've got to go, but I'll finish the dishes first", Michael slumped against the sink.

"Hey Michael? Zal-right if I come in?" came Terry's voice at the door. Michael looked at Chris.

"Yeah, come on" answered Chris as he pulled the typewriter back over in front of him. Michael turned to the sink and pressed his hard dick against the counter as the trailer door opened and the top of Terry's head appeared. Two quick steps and he was inside.

"Hi Dudes!" was all that Terry could think of. His attention was on the bare back and tight little ass of his buddy. "Ah...... you a house wife now, Mikie? This guy payin' ya to clean and wash dishes. I didn't know ya could cook". Terry's face was a full grin and it was all he could do to keep from breaking into a belly laugh. He looked at Chris and winked.

"Hey, stead a makin’ smart-ass remarks, grab a towel over there and give us some help" Michael cried, "You're the guy in a hurry. So give us a hand here"

Terry grabbed the dish towel off the magnetic hook hanging on the door of the fridge and gave it a good snap in the direction of Michael's tight little bubble butt.

SNAP....”Ow! You SHIT! That hurts" Michael swung away from the sink facing Terry and flipped soapsuds at him.

“Ah, Mikie, you didn’t say that you were taking a bath ‘with’ the dishes. The shower broke?”, Terry was so pleased that he had hit on a run of clever, smart-ass things to kid ‘the kid’ on, and judging from Michael’s reaction, he was in rare form.

“Hey Ter-, enough with the crappy remarks. And meet Chris.... long tall and cool Chris”, sang Michael who appeared very pleased with himself.

“Oh, hi Chris, nice to meet-cha, ....”, but Terry was cut off in mid sentence.

“You finish that line and you’re a dead man, smart-ass”, came a demand from Michael.

Terry smiled sheepishly and then went at Michael again with the towel. When Michael turned to deflect the attack, Terry noticed the wet bulge in the cut-offs. “Eh, getting dish soap on ya always make ya hard, Mikie,” Terry was nearly doubled over in laughter. “Sorry, Mister, eh, ...... CHRIS, right? Eh, sorry! Ha ha, Mike I’ve got to hear your answer to that one.”

Chris straightened up in the bench seat and looked thoughtfully at Michael. “Mike, your friends are waiting. I can finish up what’s left. Go on and go shopping. It’s more fun than doing dishes.

“No way,” sang Michael, “I told you I’d do ‘em and I never cop-out on what I promise someone. Isn’t that right, Terry?”

“Yeah,” Terry grunted, “you’re true as rain and I sure get fuckin’ tired waiting for you all the time. Mister helper, mister fix-it, mister.... ah, come on let’s get these dishes finished.” Terry had lost his eagerness and focused in on finishing up.

“Okay sportie, I’m done,” you finish and I’ll run to the camper and change into some dry clothes. I’ll be ready when you get there.

The door opened and Michael was gone. Chris reacted to the slam of the door as if he had just been slapped in the face. The fantasy was over and all he had for the experience was a huge empty hole in his gut, about the same place that it always was but now you could drive a truck through it. Chris didn’t even notice Terry’s beautiful body. There it was only inches away. With out a stretch, he could reach out and grab the gorgeous throbbing bottom. It simply floated there, undulating in concert with the activity going on in the hands of the body above. And then it was replaced by a fly front and a bulging package underneath. Chris looked up as if he hadn’t been aware that anyone else was in the trailer with him.

“Oh, Terry,” Chris mumbled, “he’s quite a number..... your friend, I mean.”

“Mikie?” Terry asked, “Yeah, he’s something else. We call him ‘the kid’ cause he’s always full of fun and he’s the baby in the group”

“Well, how old are you guys” Chris couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“Me? I’m 23. Danny and Tod are 20, I think. One of our buddy’s 25, that’s Cal. He’s not here this week. Yeah, Cal’s the oldest and pretty serious about his job, then there’s Michael, he’s 17 and his big day is at the end of the month. He’ll be 18 and we’re planning a celebration to welcome him into our circle. He’ll be legal. Ha, ha, Oh!” Terry straightened up and looked away “shut my big mouth” He thought. “I mean he’ll be able to do stuff, like drink beer and shit like that.” It’ll make things easier on the rest of us cause we won’t have to sneak things for him and risk getting caught by the ‘man’.

“End of the month, hmmm” thought Chris, “the little fucker is honest too.”

“Well if you need any help with his party, let me know. I really would like to be one of those who welcomes Mikie into the real world.” Chris looked up into Terry’s face and found it to be most welcoming. Long and cleanly shaven. His eyes were gray, but the most intense gray Chris had ever seen. They seemed to glow with a life all of their own. Terry’s hair was dark brown and hung in long trusses. Chris could see by the way it lay that Terry often put it up in a pony tail. “God, I love long hair. I’d give anything to run my fingers through your hair, Terry. I’d love to burry my face in those thick locks, babe, and to slide down my face down your back trailing my tongue....”

“Well I’m done, Chris,” Terry words interrupted Chris’ fantasy.

“Oh yes, yes you are” Chris sighed, “Ya know you didn’t have to dry the damned dishes but I appreciate it a lot.

“Oh yes I did. You apparently don’t know Michael very well yet” Terry laughed.

“Just met him last night. Really, I just bumped into him then. It was this morning that we first got acquainted. Ah, so I don’t know him very well at all” Chris looked back at Terry and raised his eyebrows.

“You’ll get to know him a lot better, and soon. Mikie is not one to let grass grow.. if you know what I mean. He sees something and goes for it. There’s never any doubt what he wants and when he wants it.” Terry looked at Chris with conviction in his voice and in his face. “I’ve never met anyone who I’ve loved more than the kid. He’s special. I knew it when I first met him. Well, let’s see, it’s been about five years ago now... I was about the age he is now. Michael was about 12 or so, and being drug around the country side like he was a unwelcome burden his mother had to bear. He was miserable and so very alone.” Terry’s eyes became liquid pools and he leaned against the sink and wiped his eyes with the side of his hand. “There’s lots to know about the kid. I love’em like he’s my brother ... but he’s not, of course, and nobody’s every gonna fuck with him. Not while I’m around ”

Terry looked sternly at Chris as though he knew what he’d walked in on. “Oh! I didn’t mean to get so emotional, and it has nothing to do with you, I know. So, if you really do want to help with Mikie’s party, I could really use the help. Mike’s very special, very special, and deserves a great ‘rite of passage’ party.”

Chris sparked to the phrase, “Right of passage” he thought. “Where’d you get your education, Terry?”

“Oh, I spent a couple of years at Ohio State.... I was after a liberal arts degree in literature and, well, ran out of funds. Got any idea how expensive it is to get an education these days? Terry looked at Chris apologetically. The sadness welling in his eyes again.

“Hey, I know all too well,” said Chris. “We’ll have to talk about this some more. I’d like to know a lot more about you. I’m surprised and impressed, Terry” Chris slid to the edge of the bench seat and stood up. He put his hand out and Terry reached out and the two grasped each other in a hand shake like they’d always known each other.

“Well hey, nice meeting you, Chris,” Terry looked into Chris’ eyes. He could sense a man with depth and character in there. “I better get going. Got a bunch waiting for me and they can be brutal at times.” Terry smiled and reached for the door.

In a moment, Chris was again alone, but this was not the old feeling, not this time. Alone, yes, but there was a promise of something coming his way. Chris sucked in a deep breath. It held the promise of new friends, a new fresh smell like from the belly of the sweet earth. He returned to the bench seat and to the typewriter.