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Message-ID: <222303Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:14:40 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 1 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS: mm teen cons


THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 1

	Ever since martial arts video games got so popular I don't
hang out at arcades much except to scope the other guys.  I'm just not
good at them.  I miss the space battle ones they had when I was in
grade school.  I was doing my best not to suck too much at Mortal
Kombat.  The arcade wasn't too crowded, so nobody kicked me off.  A
few people would stop and watch for a minute but they usually only
stayed long enough to see I was just a wannabe.
	A boy stopped to watch.  He was fourteen or so -- around my
age.  He was a little taller, and had long stringy blond hair.  But
his face was nice.  He stood so he could see both the game and me.
That's partly how I knew it might happen.  People interested in the
game stand behind and look over your shoulder.  People interested in
you stand where they can check you out without looking obvious.  He
had a long flannel shirt and loose jeans, and he wore some kind of
primitive stone necklace, the kind that looks like it's made from old
Rice Krispies.
	"Up and left," he said suddenly.  It startled me, and before I
realized he was giving me advice, my character met a traditionally
gory fate.  "Want me to show you?"
	"Sure," I said.  He took my place at the controls.  "Here, get
close where you can see."  He indicated the place next to him.  I
stood there, our shoulders touching.
	He showed me two or three of the secret moves -- ones I'd seen
but never remembered.  With every move he edged a little closer to me
until the entire side of my body was pressed up against his.  I felt
the warmth of his skin, and it was turning me on.  I reached down and
squeezed the bulge in my jeans.  I saw his eyes move to watch me, and
then return to the game.  I tried to see his crotch, but his jeans
were too loose and he was standing too close to the game.
	Then he lost on purpose.  He just stood there and let his
opponent tear him apart.
	"This is boring," he announced.  "Wanna go do something else?"
	"Like what?"
	"I dunno," he said with a tone of voice that suggested he knew
exactly what he wanted to do.

	We left the arcade and strolled through the mall.  Usually the
guys I picked up lived nearby and we went to their house.  Instead he
went down a service hallway, past the restrooms and back entrances to
stores, and up to an unmarked door.  Looking around, he pulled a thin
strip of metal from his back pocket and managed to quite easily open
the door.
	"Are we supposed to be doing this?" I asked.
	"Probably not.  I haven't asked," he whispered.  "The room's
empty, so I don't who'd care if we were in it."
	The room was indeed empty.  There was a lightswitch, but the
fixture was missing.  The only light came from a high barred window.
There were some papers on the floor, receipts or something, and a
small table.  He shut the door behind us.
	We looked at each other for a brief second.  Then he took the
initiative.  He cupped my crotch in his hand and began slowly rubbing
it.  Our eyes met for a moment, and his deep blue orbs spoke for him.
Without a word we pressed our lips together.  I'm not normally into
kissing, but his breath was sweet and warm, and his lips like velvet.
I felt his tongue slip between my lips and I sucked on it.
	My hardon was raging.  He was squeezing it gently now.  His
other hand went around my shoulder and drew me close to him.  This was
new.  I'd never had so much, well, passion from the guys I met in the
arcade.  It was usually a quick jack or blow job and I never saw them
again.  But this guy was really into it.  I didn't mind much, I
suppose.  I'd kissed other guys before.  I put my hand behind his head
and kissed him back.
	This didn't last long.  He was fumbling with the buttons on my
jeans, undoing them one by one.  I backed away slightly and reached
for his pants.  The shirt was in the way, so I had to unbutton it and
since I'd gone to all that trouble I slid his shirt off his shoulders.
He took his hands away long enough to completely remove the shirt.  In
the dim light his slender body was so tantalizing.  I caressed his
warm chest briefly before unbuttoning the top button of his jeans.
His had a zipper, which made things easier.  They were so loose they
fell immediately to the floor.
	His undershorts were red boxers, and I lost no time in getting
my first feel of the boy's cock by reaching up the leg.  He was erect
too, and I could feel his loose balls and soft pubic hair.
	Since he was having so much trouble with my clothes, I broke
our embrace and whipped my T-shirt over my head and finished
unbuttoning my jeans.  I lowered them, giving him a good view of my
tight white undershorts with the cotton stretched tightly over my
throbbing cock.  He looked at my bare chest and stomach, and at my
legs, then smiled.
	He pulled the waistband of his boxers far enough out to clear
his erection, then dropped them to his ankles where they joined his
jeans.  His cock was five or six inches, a bit larger than average for
his age.  His crotch hair was dark blond, or at least appeared that
way in the dim light.  His balls hung loose and low.  He fondled his
cock briefly.
	It took me just a second to reveal my own manhood.  Five
inches of throbbing teen cock with a dark bush of curly hair above it.
I was hornier than I think I've ever been.  I dropped to my knees and
took the boy's cock in my hand.  It was warm and hard, and throbbed
slightly with his pulse.  I had to have it.
	I took it into my mouth and slurped down a long way on it.
I'm working on being able to deep-throat, but apparently I have an
annoying habit of biting down at the point of deepest penetration.
	"Oh, jeez," the boy sighed.  "Oh, God, that's good."
	Pleased with his approval, I began my pumping my lips up and
down his shaft.  I could taste the occasional salty drop of precum
from his slit.  His hands were on my head and he began fucking motions
with his hips.  I grabbed his asscheeks and held on.  We fell into a
rhythm that eventually had us both panting.  I had to stop a couple of
times to swallow the spit that was building up.  It wasn't the biggest
cock I'd sucked, but it was surely bigger than most.
	At last the boy tensed and gasped, and I felt his meat swell
in my mouth.  He threw back his head.  I was then treated to gobs of
his creamy white boyjuice that blasted into the back of my throat.
After a half dozen spasms his head flopped forward.  I let his
softening cock slide out of my mouth.  It hung slightly erect.  I
remembered what I'd been told about thin guys and long cocks and
decided it must be true.
	His entire body had a light patina of sweat, and the odor of
his teen body was driving me beyond endurance.
	"Now you do me," I said.
	"Too tired," was all he could manage.  I was disappointed.
This was the sex god of my dreams, and now it looked like he could
barely stand.  Fortunately I thought of something.
	I helped him over to the table.  He waddled because of the
jeans bundled around his ankles.  He kind of got the idea, because he
sat down on it and then lay down on his side.  That put his mouth at
about the same level as my cock, which was handy.
	He opened wide and I put my throbbing cock in.  The warmth of
his mouth was a welcome change from the cool air of the mall.  He was
doing things with his tongue on the head of my cock that was driving
me absolutely insane.  He couldn't move much, so I gently thrust my
cock between his lips.
	The orgasm built up so quickly I almost didn't have time to do
anything.  But I managed to grunt "I'm coming" just before the
climactic fire enveloped my young body and centered on my spurting
organ.  The boy was doing the best he could to swallow it all, but
some of it leaked out and ran down his cheek, dripping onto the table
top.  It takes a lot of practice to swallow a horny teenager's entire
load.
	When the last convulsions left my groin, I pulled my cock from
the boy's mouth.  He pursed his lips slightly to clean the last drops
of cum off my dick.
	As typically happens when my sex drive goes away, I started
thinking about practical things, like not getting caught.  I pulled my
shorts and jeans back on, trying to arrange my semi-erect cock in an
inconspicuous way.  My T-shirt had accumulated dust from the floor and
I slapped it against my thigh to clean it as best I could.
	The boy was still panting from the exertion of sex, and so I
helped him to a sitting position.  I put his shirt around his
shoulders and buttoned it the way he'd had it buttoned.  Then when he
was strong enough to stand, I helped him on with his boxers and jeans.
	"Sorry about that," he said.  "God, that was a great blow
job."
	"Nothing to it," I said nonchalantly, which was the truth.  I
guess I've just had a lot of practice the last couple of years.
	"I don't even know your name," he said.
	"Josh," I answered.
	"As in Joshua?"
	"Yeah, but I like Josh."
	"I'm Evan.  Do you wanna do this again sometime?"
	"Sure, but let's pick a better place."
	"Fine with me.  Where do you live?"
	"Cascade Park."
	"That's a long way off," he said.
	"How about your place?"
	"Definitely out of the question," he said.  I didn't ask why.
	The aftertaste of his cum was still strong in my mouth as we
cautiously opened the door and checked to make sure no one was around.
Back in the mall we agreed to meet the following week in the arcade.
I'll be looking forward to it.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
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Message-ID: <105303Z20121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Wed, 20 Dec 1995 10:45:03 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 2 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS: mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 2

	My brother David came out to Mom and Dad when he was
seventeen.  I was only eleven and was just figuring out that it felt
good to play with my dick when it got hard.  I knew about sex in the
clinical sense, the egg-and-sperm thing, but I wasn't really clear on
where things like blow jobs and feeling girls' tits came in.
	There was a lot of yelling behind closed doors when David
dropped his bombshell.  The only thing I remember was when Dad shouted
"I'm not going to tolerate any perverts in my house!"  David left that
night and didn't come back for four days.
	I had always wondered what David and his best friend Lance did
in his bedroom with the door closed.  Every time I knocked David
yelled "go away!"  Even at that young age I thought they might have
been doing something dirty together.  My suspicions were confirmed
when David's absence gave me time to carefully and thoroughly ransack
his room.  My booty was a small stack of gay porno magazines with
Sports Illustrated covers taped to them.  In school we'd always spoken
with derision about "faggots."  Now that I was looking at gay sex and
knew my brother was gay, it was the greatest thing in the world.
Maybe it was the stirrings of my pubescent sexuality, or simply the
aura of forbidden desires.  Whatever it was, I jacked myself to a
wonderful climax looking at the pictures of smooth, muscular men
pleasuring each other.
	I was worried that David's homosexuality was what made Mom and
Dad split up.  She eventually persuaded him to let David back in the
house, but they rarely even spent time in the same room.  David's
boyfriend Lance, with whom he'd lived after Dad kicked him out, was no
longer welcome in our house.  Mom showered David with affection, but
it wouldn't make up for Dad's muttered comments about his "son, the
faggot."
	After the divorce was finalized, Mom explained that Dad had
been sharing hotel rooms on business trips with rented female
companions.  That was why she divorced him.  Dad had visitation
rights, but only my sister Becky wanted to see him.  She was still too
young to understand.

	These and other thoughts occupied my mind on the way home.
The bus ride to Cascade Park from downtown was even longer during rush
hour.  It was timed out just right, so I'd get home about an hour
before Mom did.  She worked late Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Tuesday was
my night to cook dinner, so I reserved Thursdays for cruising boys.
	The bus let me off at the convenience store.  I passed Jeff's
house on the way home.  Jeff was my first sex partner when we were
both twelve.  He was straight now, and had a cute girlfriend.  I had
no clue if he was fucking her or not, but if he was still as hung now
as he was when he was twelve, she must be getting some rough rides.
	Jeff had been popular.  Normally he probably wouldn't have
hung out with me, but since we lived on the same street and were the
same age, I don't think he could have avoided it.  Whatever was cool,
Jeff was into it.  Of course at twelve sex starts to become very cool,
so Jeff was bragging about his sexual prowess.  It was all brag, I
would later find out, but Jeff could make you believe anything.
	I was at his house one day when he dragged out his Playboys.
It was well known that Jeff had the largest collection of dirty
magazines. He was a god to the rest of the sixth grade class.  We were
two or three magazines into his stack when we could no longer contain
our bulging erections.
	"Do you jack off?" he asked me, rather bluntly.
	"Sure," I answered, my voice wavering.  "All the time."
	"Wanna jack off now?"
	"What?  You mean together?"
	"Sure.  Unless you're chicken."
	Far from chicken, I'd been having wet dreams about Jeff for
several months.  I'd pretended his face was on the guys in David's
magazines, which I had been clandestinely masturbating to for nearly a
year.
	Mutual interest was extreme as we each bared our privates and
began to stroke.  Jeff's cock was huge compared to mine, which had
only recently begun its swell to manhood.  My few downy pubes were no
match for his thick, dark brown mane.  His balls hung smooth and loose
beneath the mammoth prick.  In reality it was probably only four or
five inches long, but since it was the first erect cock I'd seen in
real life, except my own, it was the proverbial Norseman's cock.
	I hoped it wasn't too obvious that I was more interested in
Jeff's cock than in his magazines.  But he seemed too involved with
bringing about his orgasm that it noticing who was salivating over his
young, virile body.  Our ejaculations, if combined, wouldn't have
filled a teaspoon, but it was so cool to be "real men" together.  Then
he pulled his underwear back on and we went to go do something else.
	Jeff's cock occupied by masturbation fantasies for days
afterward.  I wanted to stroke it, lick it, and kiss it.  I wanted
him to blow a load in my mouth.

	As I neared my house, I remembered the first time this
happened.  For several weeks I jacked off regularly with Jeff, always 
at his house.  He'd been to my house, but only briefly.  I was rather
embarrassed that I didn't have cool toys or video games, and that I
wasn't any good at sports.  I was scared Jeff would be so bored at my
house he'd never want to hang out with me.
	The day we wanted to bike over to the park it rained
torrentially.  We sat in my room, trying to come up with something
else to do.  Jeff's house was being painted.
	"Say, do you have any dirty magazines?" he asked.
	I really wanted to say no.  I shaped my mouth into the word
"no" but somehow "yes" came out instead.
	"Let's see 'em," he said.
	"I really don't have any," I protested, not very convincingly.
Which was true.  They belonged to my brother, and I went to great
pains to ensure he didn't know I used them too.
	"You just said you did."
	"They're my brother's.  He doesn't want me messing with them."
	"Big deal," said Jeff.  "He won't even know."
	We argued for several more minutes.  It became obvious that
Jeff wasn't going to give up.  I went and got David's magazines and
dropped them in a stack on my bed.  Jeff leafed through the first few
pages.  I waited for him to say something like "Is your brother some
kind of homo?" but his eyes just got wider and wider.
	"Jeez!" he said at last.  "I didn't know guys even did things
like this.  This is so kinky."  Somebody as cool as Jeff couldn't have
been ignorant about gay sex.  Kids talked about it on the playground,
in gym class.  "God, I'm gonna blow a load right now," he said.
	Sure enough, cum spurted only a few strokes after he had freed
his member.  Instead of putting away his cock as we usually did after
jerking off, he let it hang while he turned the pages.
	"Is this what you jack off to?" he asked.
	"Yeah," said, my courage having returned.
	"Have you ever done any of this stuff with another guy?" he
asked in a whisper.
	"No."  Honesty seemed to be working.  I decided to stick with
it.
	"Do you want to?"
	I didn't know if he was asking me if I was gay, or if I wanted
to have gay sex with him.  I tried to come up with a non-committal
answer.
	"I'd like to try it sometime," I said.
	"Really?" he asked, amazed.  "And I thought _I_ was kinky."
	My eyes dropped to his now-hard prick.  He noticed this.
	"You wanna feel me off?" he asked.  I hesitated.  I still
thought I was being set up.  "No, seriously," he continued.  He spread
his legs and leaned back.
	As if watching myself on TV I scooted closer and took his cock
in my hand.  It was surprisingly warm, and I could feel Jeff's
heartbeat.  My fingers brushed his pubic hair, and I was surprised at
its coarseness.  I stroked it lightly while Jeff watched in
fascination.
	"Ooh, play with my balls too," he said.  I obliged, fondling
them through his loose scrotum.  "Lemme play with yours too," he said.
I stood up and kicked off my shorts.  I stood between his legs, my
cock bobbing in front of his chest.  He took it gingerly in his fist
and started jacking me.  I used my fingertips to masturbate.  Jeff
used his whole fist, mainly because it took his whole fist.
	"I'm cumming," I gasped, and Jeff shifted his grip so he could
watch the event.  Two or three drops of semen fell to the floor
between us as I unloaded in front of the coolest guy in school.  My
boy orgasm was stronger than I'd ever felt it.
	"Jeez, did I do that?" he asked.
	"Yeah," I managed.  "That was great."
	"Do it to me," he said, spreading his legs wider.
	I knelt between his legs, my armpits resting on his thighs.
The warmth of his body and the residual flame from my climax filled me
with longings I was not accustomed to.
	Jeff's cock stuck straight up a few inches from me.  I stroked
him in earnest, pressing his meat between my fingers.  The flesh of
his rod felt familiar and foreign at the same time.  The smell of his
crotch was powerful in my nostrils.  I did the thing I'd dared not do.
	I pulled his young tool away from his stomach and lowered my
lips over the head.
	"Whoa, Jeez!" said Jeff.  But his amazement gave way to moans
of pleasure.  "God, that feels so good," he whispered.
	I'd never given a blow job before, so I wasn't sure what I was
supposed to be doing.  What surprised me was the huge size.  I had
figured it wouldn't be that different from sucking a popsickle.  But
Jeff's dick was almost gagging me.  I had to swallow the spit several
times.  At first I just held his penis in my mouth.  But he
instinctively started thrusting, and I took over bobbing my head up
and down his shaft.
	Fortunately his horniness made up for my inexperience.  With a
gasp he threw back his head.  I felt his cock expand in my mouth.  For
a moment I panicked and wanted to withdraw, but before I could the
blast of cum hit the roof of my mouth.  Jeff spasmed three or four
times, depositing his hot, slimy fluid.
	I started coughing and without thinking swallowed most of his
load.  The thick fluid burned its way down my throat, coating it with
a salty flavor that I longed to get rid of.
	When I returned to reality, I was aware that Jeff was panting.
His stomach and chest heaved against my forehead.  I let his softening
cock slide out of my mouth and flop back against his belly.
	"Holy shit!" said Jeff.  "That was so good!  How come you
never told me you knew how to do that?"
	"I ..." I began.  "I didn't want you to think I was a fag."
	"You said you've never done anything like that with another
guy?"
	"Yeah, that's right," I said.
	"Well I guess that makes us both first-time fags," he grinned.
"I won't tell if you won't."
	"Sure," I said.  I didn't plan to, and I hoped like hell Jeff
wouldn't.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
For information (incl. non-anon reply) write to    help@anon.penet.fi
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <222322Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:15:59 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 3 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS: Mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 3

	Mom was already there when I got home.
	"Where have you been?" she asked.
	"Just playing video games," I answered.
	"What happened to your shirt?  It's got dust all over it."
	"I dropped a quarter behind a game and had to crawl back to
get it."  Quick thinking, if I do say so myself.
	"We'll have dinner in half an hour."

	My encounter with Evan and thinking about Jeff on the way home
made me really horny.  On the way upstairs I passed Becky coming down.
She was eleven now, and starting to talk about boys.  If she noticed
my erection she didn't say anything.
	I pulled out the stack of magazines.  David and Lance both
joined the Navy when I was thirteen.  His leaving was more emotional
than when Dad left.  That night when I went to bed, there was a bundle
in my closet that I hadn't put there.  The attached note read

		Dear Josh,
			Don't think I didn't know you
		jerked off to these too.  I'm not mad.
		I think it's cool to share them with
		my little brother.  Anyway, now they're
		yours.  Have fun with them.  Don't let
		Mom see them.  She isn't as strong
		about this as she lets on.  Take care of
		Mom and Becky.

					David

		P.S. Lance thinks you're cute.

	Over the past year I'd only been able to add one or two
magazines to the collection.  But they were my chief form of sexual
activity for a long time.
	Jeff, it turned out, was only interested in passionate
experimentation.  Our affair lasted only for a month during the
summer after which he lost interest in sex with me.  He didn't lose
interest in sex, but I think he was upset because the only action he
was getting was from another boy.  I, on the other hand, was honing my
blowjob skills to perfection.  After gagging Jeff's cum down four or
five times, I learned to prepare for his ejaculation.  I even got used
to the taste.
	In the hallway at school one day soon after this I passed Jeff
talking to a group of boys.
	"Yeah," said Jeff to the group.  "This girl just sucked my
cock.  She even swallowed my cum."  He hadn't seen me yet.  Most of
the boys were skeptical.  So was I.  I knew the only blowjobs he was
getting were from me.  He was a bit startled when he saw me and
realized I'd overheard him.
	Our eyes locked for the briefest second.  I'm not sure what
was communicated between us, but we both understood.
	"It's true," I told them.  "I was there.  She really did it."
	That probably did more to cement our friendship than the sex
did.  This was after we'd stopped having sex, but we each still
carried the secret we dared not reveal.
	Jeff and I still ride the same bus, so we see each other
almost every day.  He still says hello to me, and I still say hello to
him.  He sometimes catches me glancing at the huge bulge in his jeans,
and he smiles when he does.  Maybe someday I'll get a chance to blow
him again.

	I took off my dirty clothes and lay down on the bed in just my
undershorts.  I chose a magazine at random and turned to the
pictorials.  Two men sat in a sauna in a faky embrace.  One of the men
had longish blond hair, and I imagined Evan's face on him.  Of course
the man's hair was clean; I'd been too busy with the more intimate
areas of Evan's body to notice that his needed washing.  Bathing with
Evan seemed a pleasant thing.  I imagined sitting naked in a sauna
with him.  He would lean over and kiss me, and I would kiss him back.
We'd start to fondle each other's cocks.
	Unconsciously I began humping the bed.  The wet spot over my
cockhead grew.  I became more aware of my arousal as I finished that
magazine and moved on.
	Finally I flipped over on my back and pulled my hard cock out
over my waistband.  There was dried cum in my pubes.  I drew my
fingers through it, almost relishing the tiny stings of the curly
brown hair separating.
	There was petroleum jelly under the bed for just such
occasions, and with my hand fully greased I began the ritual of
autoeroticism.  I suppose I'm an expert in masturbation, as every
fourteen year old boy is.  I liked to think I was a little more expert
since I'd not only fondled myself to orgasm, but several others as
well.  And I'd let other boys demonstrate their technique on me.
	My stroking was refined and sensual.  I pressed my left hand
against the inside of my thigh, middle finger stimulating my asshole
and the thumb fondling my smooth balls.  The right hand moved up and
down the shaft.  Slowly down, with a long, firm stroke, then back up
to the tip with a looser grip.
	I could do this for hours, or I could cum in sixty seconds if
I had to.  I knew I had half an hour, so I rationed out my strokes.
And slipped into a daydream.

	Middle school was a new experience.  In grade school gym we
all played games in our street clothes.  But in middle school we had
locker rooms and athletic clothing.  Most boys were very shy about
changing clothes in front of each other, but after a week or two it
wore off.  Near the end of the year we were laughing and talking with
each other buck naked, going to great pains to make each other think
we were comfortable with our nudity.
	I was in heaven.  Cocks of every shape and size bobbed between
bare legs.  Small hairless dicks and huge furry ones; tight ballsacks,
loose ones swaying in the breeze; cute asses bending over to pull up
undershorts.  I simply couldn't believe the feast of raw boyhood I was
served up every day.
	Of course the problem I discovered early on was the erection.
Getting a woodie in the locker room was a sure fire way to be forever
branded a horrible "faggot."  The only physical skill I learned in
that class was how to control the boner.  Of course, once the jeans
were back on, I sprang to full erection watching my classmates parade
nude in front of me.
	It was strictly a hands-off affair until the end of the year
when we attempted to learn gymnastics.  The gym coach was a doddering
old man who taught the class by bringing in outside experts.  The
outside expert for gymnastics was a member of the college men's
gymnastics team.  He was the first adult I ever wanted to have sex
with.  He was not tremendously muscular, but there wasn't an ounce of
fat on him.  His chest was bare, and his nipples stuck through his
tank top in a way I at least found erotic.  But his basket was the
glory I sought.
	I'd always wondered if gymnasts and ballet dancers stuffed
their tights.  As he explained routines and techniques, I carefully
pondered the delicate contours of the bulging Lycra between his legs.
By the end of the two-week unit I was fairly certain Mr. Hudson (as we
were required to call him) was every inch what he seemed.
	Since ours was the last class of the day, we had to take turns
helping Mr. Hudson dismantle the equipment and put it away.  I could
hardly wait for my turn.  That afternoon we slid all the equipment in
to the lockers and then went downstairs to shower.
	The locker room was deserted.  Mr. Hudson thanked me for my
help, and I went to my locker to undress.  As usual I headed for the
shower room.  I had just soaped up when to my surprise Mr. Hudson
joined me.  His mammoth cock swayed under a trimmed bush of light
brown hair.  His lean musculature was revealed in full glory.
	At that point my penile discipline was instantly shattered.
My cock rose to full erection in seconds.  I turned away, trying to
hide it from Mr. Hudson, but I couldn't really convince him I was
taking a shower if I faced away from him all the time.  I decided to
rinse off, walk past him when his back was turned, grab a towel from
the hamper and wrap it around me before he saw anything.
	As I turned to rinse my back, Mr. Hudson suddenly turned.  His
eyes darted to my teen erection.  He smiled, not in derision, but in
understanding.  I laughed a little.  Without looking away, Mr. Hudson
began lathering his privates.  In a few moments his dick was hard too.
It jutted away from his hard athlete's body like a cannon.
	"There, Josh," he said.  "Now you don't have to be
embarrassed."
	My eyes were riveted on his member.  From where I stood it
must have been a foot long, although I think I was just mesmerized by
the sight of an adult erection.  Mr. Hudson continued to stroke his
cock, building a thick lather of soap suds around it.  I couldn't
believe it.  My gym coach was jacking off for me.
	I followed suit.  I lathered my crotch and began pumping my
cock with him.  It didn't occur to me that anyone could have walked
into the shower at any time.  It did seem to occur to Mr. Hudson,
because he walked to the door and checked the locker room outside.  He
returned with his dick bouncing in front of him.  He walked right up
to me.
	"Rinse off your penis," he said.  "And don't tell anyone what
I'm about to do."
	I did as he told me.  Then he knelt in front of me and took my
cock into his mouth.  The warmth and wetness of his mouth made my
heart beat frantically.  His tongue was doing things to my cock that
I'd never felt before.  He cupped by ass in his hands and forced my
hips back and forth, and my cock to slide in and out of his mouth.
The suction was enormous; I felt my cock ballooning inside his mouth.
I didn't have much time to savor my first blowjob (on the receiving
end) because he slipped a finger into my asshole and pressed firmly
against the side of my rectum.
	A fiery wave of pleasure such as I had never felt before
surged through my body.  My dick exploded with fury inside
Mr. Hudson's mouth, and he eagerly swallowed every drop of cum.
	My knees weakened, but he caught my fall and lowered me to a
sitting position.  My cock was already limp and lay glistening against
my thigh.
	"Anybody ever do that to you before?" he asked.
	"No," I said.  "But I've done it to other guys."
	"Really," he said, somewhat amused.  "Guys my age?"
	"No, Mr. Hudson."
	"You can call me Eric.  I'm only 22.  It sounds like you're
talking to my dad.  So who have you done it with?"
	"Jeff Woodward," I answered.  "Do you know him?"
	"Yeah.  Dark hair, cocky.  Hung pretty nice."
	"Yeah.  I've sucked him."
	"Wanna try something this size?" he asked, hefting his shaft.
	"Sure," I said, and got to a kneeling position.  That wouldn't
work, I saw, as the tip of his cock was level with the top of my head.
	"Dry off and come to the coach's office," he said.  He rinsed
himself and put a towel around his waist and left the shower.  I stood
up, still a bit shaky, and rinsed the cum residue off my cock.
	The coach's office had an outer room with a window so you
could see the locker room.  There was also a back room with a
refrigerator, first aid kit, and so forth.  Eric was waiting in the
back room.  After I came in he locked the door behind us.
	He took of the towel and finished drying himself.  It seemed
more intimate with just the two of us in the small room.  There was a
cot next to the back wall for first aid cases.  Eric lay down on it
and motioned for me to sit next to him.  I saw I could easily bend
over to suck him.
	"Whenever you're ready," he said.
	I lifted his cock away from his stomach.  The weight and
thickness surprised me.  I wrapped both hands around the shaft and
still had room at the top for my mouth.  I opened wide and put my
mouth over his cock head.  It was absolutely huge in my mouth.  I
could only get the head in and a little bit of the shaft.  I worked my
tongue around his head, picking up little salty drops of pre-cum.  It
was apparent this was going to be just a glorified jack-off; I
couldn't get enough of him in.
	I worked my hands around his shaft.  It was like warm steel
coated in rubber.  I fondled his balls briefly.  Apparently he shaved
there because it was covered in fine stubble.  Eric was getting more
turned on and moaned softly every few seconds.  His legs writhed
gently under me and his soft, sculptured chest heaved.
	My reputation was at stake, so I was doing the best I could
with my mouth.  My jaw ached from being open so far for so long, and I
had to stop every few minutes to rest it and to swallow the spit that
kept forming.
	Then Eric gasped something that sounded like "I'm cumming,"
and I felt his cock start to spasm.  About a gallon of hot cum
fountained from his hole, followed by three or four more gallons.  My
mouth was full of the slimy fluid and I couldn't swallow fast enough
to keep up.  It spilled out around my lips and dripped down my chin
and onto his stomach.  Eric's head was back and he was panting
heavily.  A fine sheen of sweat covered his torso.
	I had to pull his cock out and choke down (or up) the buckets
of jism that Eric had fed me.  What didn't go down I wiped up with my
damp towel, cleaning off his stomach at the same time.  I laid his
softening cock back onto his flat, hard stomach and wondered what to
do next.
	A romantic urge overcame me and I placed my head down on his
stomach, just next to his cock.  I rubbed the chest I'd longed to rub
for two weeks, feeling his refined, powerful pectoral muscles.  He
lifted his head to look at me.
	"Holy shit, Josh, you are really good at that," he panted.  I
smiled mischievously at him and he tousled my hair.  "Only two other
boys have been able to make me cum with their mouths, and you did it
better than all of them."
	We got dressed and left the gym together, he to the parking
lot and me to the city bus stop.  The school buses had left some time
before.  He wave at me and I waved back.  He'd given me a mouthful of
hot adult cum, and aching jaw, and my first blowjob.  But he'd also
given me something more valuable than anything else I could imagine --
he'd praised me on my skill at sex.

	My reverie was broken by a knock at the door.
	"Dinner's ready," said Becky from outside.
	"Be right there," I answered.  I accelerated my stroking,
feeling the orgasm build within me.  It was going to be a quickie, and
not very satisfying.  But I squeezed hard and pumped and shot two or
three gobs onto my teen chest.  Then I got dressed in record time and
went downstairs.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <214309Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 21:42:44 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 4 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  mast teen

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 4

(Note:  This chapter is mostly story, although there is some
masturbation and allusions to previous and future sex.)

	Eric and I didn't have a chance to do anything else.  Two days
later his job was over.  I really hoped to have another chance to have
sex with him, but it never happened.  What happened instead was a
manila envelope I found in my gym locker after Eric's last day.  "Open
in Private" was written on the outside.
	Curiosity ate on me all the way home.  In my bedroom I opened
the envelope.  Inside was a Polaroid shot of Eric, nude and erect, and
a note.

		Dear Josh
			I know you wanted to have some
		more fun before I had to go, but I think
		it's better this way.  There's just too
		much that can go wrong.  I meant it when
		I said you were good at doing what you
		did.  But I think you'd be happier and
		safer with boys your own age.  If you
		run out of "friends" try the Parkside
		Mall arcade.  That's where I used to
		hang out.  Here's a picture to remember
		me by.
				Hugs and kisses,
				Eric

	I supposed I expected something like this.  I had a childish
hope Eric would be my new pal, but he was so much older.  He lived in
a different world that I couldn't be part of.
	The reference to the Parkside Mall fascinated me.  What kind
of "friends" would I meet there?  I determined to find out.

	Dinner that night was typical.  Mom griped about her job and
Becky filled us in on all the neighborhood gossip.
	"I heard Jeff's mom tell Katie's mom she caught him in the
closet with his girlfriend kissing."
	"You should listen in on people's phone conversations,"
replied Mom.  "It's rude, and you could hurt someone's feelings."
	"But she said it right out loud.  It's not like I was spying."
	"Still, what Jeff and his girlfriend do and what his mom
thinks about it is a private matter that's none of your business."

	Mom's approach to sex and us kids was pretty much that it was
our own business.  She didn't really want to know, but she did care.
It was about the time Jeff stopped letting me suck him off that Mom
decided to talk about the birds and the bees.  She would have been
much more comfortable if a man like a doctor or a rabbi had done it,
but she felt it was a parent's responsibility.
	After explaining in as cold and clinical terms as possible
just how a man and woman go about making babies, she asked me if I
knew why Dad was angry at my brother David.
	"It's because he's gay, isn't it?"
	"Yes.  Do you know what that means?"
	"I suppose it means he's attracted to other guys," I said.
	"That's right.  Lot's of people including your father think
that it's wrong and that homosexuals should be punished or picked on."
	"Is it wrong?" I asked.
	"No," she answered.  "Not in any real way.  Obviously it's not
how babies are made, but if two men love each other enough, they
should be able to express that love physically.  It's between them,
and it's nobody else's business."
	We were never religious.  Mom and Dad were married by a rabbi,
but we never went to synagogue.  In fact, we always had a Christmas
tree.  After David came out and before the divorce, though, Mom went
to see our rabbit a couple of times.  I suppose she needed advice.
Normally she went to Grandma for that, but how do you tell an
old-fashioned woman that her grandson is making out with other guys?
	Mom got a curious look on her face.
	"Are you attracted to other boys?"
	The moment I had dreaded was at hand.  David's coming out
didn't go so well.  But Mom had recovered quickly.  I kept remembering
what David said before he left, that Mom wasn't as strong as she made
out to be.  But I couldn't lie.  Not about something this important.
	"I suppose so."
	"Have you had sex with a boy?"
	"Yes."
	"What did you do?"
	"I ..." I didn't know how to phrase it.  This was my mother I
was talking to after all.
	"Did you touch his penis?"
	"Yeah."
	"Did he touch yours?"
	"Yeah."
	"Did you have oral sex?"  Good way of phrasing it.  Why hadn't
I thought of it?
	"Yes."
	"Did he ejaculate in your mouth?"
	"Yeah."
	"Did you ejaculate in his mouth?"
	"No."
	"Who all have you had sex with?  I promise it will be between
you and me."
	"Jeff Woodward," I said.  She didn't seem surprised.
	"Do you know about sexually-transmitted diseases?"
	"You mean like AIDS?"
	"AIDS is one of them," she said.  "These diseases are
transmitted from one person to another in body fluids.  You can get
diseases from a person's semen by having it in your mouth or other
places.  Do you know if Jeff has had sex with anyone else?"
	"He hasn't."
	"Do you know what safe sex is?"
	"Like using a condom?"
	"Condoms are part of it.  Do you know how to use one?"
	"Yes."
	"Do you have any?"
	"No."
	"I'll get you some.  I'll buy them whenever you run out.  What
else is part of safe sex?"
	"I dunno."
	"Something called abstinance."  She knew I understood the
word.  She was making a point.
	"I'm not going to tell you what you should and shouldn't do
with your own body.  You're old enough to have sex, and I think you
are old enough to be smart about it.  But I am going to give you some
advice.  Wait until you're older to have sex with the person you
choose, whether it's male or female.  And when you have sex, use a
condom for protection."
	I nodded.
	"There are other alternatives, you know," she continued.  "Do
you masturbate?"
	"Yeah."
	"Do you know what mutual masturbation is?  That's when you
just masturbate with someone else.  It's still fun, and a lot safer."
	We talked for a long time about how sex comes from love and
that sort of thing.  It was late when we stopped.
	"I just want you to know, Joshua, that I don't hate you
because you are gay, or that I don't want you to be or do anything
just because I want it.  I hope you'll always be comfortable talking
with me about sex.  I'll try my best to help."

	Mom was cool.  The next day after school there was a box of
condoms on my bed.  A whole dozen, cherry flavored.  I guess Mom
thought I was going to get a lot of action.  Curiosity overwhelmed me,
and I ripped the box open.  The individually-wrapped condoms looked
ominous.  I felt myself getting hard, pressing against my jeans.  I
freed my thirteen-year-old cock and tore open one of the packages.
	It slid easily onto my teen-sized cock.  I remembered that if
it fit loosely you were supposed to hold the top against your shaft.
The latex felt weird against my flesh.  It was turning me on.  I
hadn't intended to jerk off, but it seemed that it was inevitable at
this point.
	Waddling over to the door (because my pants were down around
my knees) I closed and locked it.  Mom would know what I was doing.
Back on the bed I sat and began jerking.  The slippery latex slid
against my cock, I could still feel the heat of my prick through the
thin rubber.
	My orgasm came quickly, and I watched through a haze of
pleasure as the tip of the condom filled magically with white cream.
I slid the item off slowly, noting that my entire cock head was now
covered with my jism.
	A fantastic idea occurred to me.  I tilted my head back and
let the still-warm sperm ooze out of the condom onto my tongue.  I
rolled the condom from the tip, forcing it out like toothpaste and
sucked it out of the opening.  Yep, cherry flavored.
	I'd never tasted my own cum before.  It tasted just like
Jeff's, I decided.  But with a hint of cherry.  I didn't crave the
taste of cum.  It never really tasted good to me.  But it reminded me
of sex, and especially of sex with Jeff.  And that was a turn-on.

	Friday was a slow day at school.  The naked teenagers in the
locker room didn't turn me on as much, which I suppose was a good
thing.  I jerked off again that night before going to bed.
	Saturday I decided to go back to the arcade.  I had done it a
few times on weekends before.  I guess I really wanted to see if Evan
was there, although I knew he wasn't expected until Thursday.  I told
Mom I was going downtown to the mall, and caught the bus.
	Parkside Mall is a downtown mall.  Only the rich people shop
there, but since it's in the urban part of town lots of city kids hang
out there.  You can tell right away if a kid is there shopping with
his parents or if he lives around town.  The arcade fills up with
skate punks on Saturdays too.  You have to watch out for them
sometimes.
	Brad was there today.  He was the first boy I'd had in the
arcade a year ago.  I hadn't seen him for a couple of months.  His
hair was short.  Brad had Irish red hair that stood out in a crowd.
He hated people calling him Red, so I didn't.
	"Yo, Josh," he said without looking up from his game.  "How's
it hanging, dude?"
	"Fine.  Anything good today?"
	"Yeah, check out that kid on RoboCop."
	This one was definitely a rich kid.  His clothes were neat.
He was about sixteen, with neatly trimmed dirty-blond hair and dark
eyebrows.
	"Is he a live one?" I asked.  "Live" meant that they were
either known to be interested in sex or that they were sending out the
signals that they wanted sex.  There were maybe a dozen of us who hung
out in the arcade looking for sex.  Half of us came from the suburbs
and the other half were city kids.  Some of the city kids did it with
adults for money.  The rest of us who were scared shitless of sex with
strange adults, or who didn't need the money, basically did it with
each other, or with the strangers who came in.
	You knew a kid wanted sex if he grabbed his crotch while
playing a game.  Sometimes you could just read it in their faces.
Then the obvious ones, the boys in tight pants with raging erections.
	"Not live yet," answered Brad.  "What's he doing now?"
	"Just playing.  He's cute."
	"Yeah," agreed Brad.  "I'll bet he has fuzzy legs."  That was
Brad's fetish.  He like guys with blond fuzzy leg hair, the kind that
looks like loose yellow steel wool."
	"You wish," I kidded.
	"I think I'll scope him," said Brad.  I watched as he walked
over to the boy.  Slowly, as if wandering the arcade aimlessly.  He
stood next to the boy, watching him blow away imaginary bad guys.  The
deal was that if a guy made a move like grabbing his crotch or lifting
up his shirt a lot to expose his stomach, you answered by watching him
play his game, then sliding your foot up next to his.  If he didn't
move his foot away, he was on the prowl. If he wasn't interested in
sex, the normal reaction would be to move his foot away.
	I saw Brad's foot against the boy's.  The boy didn't back
away.  His foot and lower leg was firmly pressed against Brad's.  Brad
turned back to me and raised his eyebrows rapidly like Grouch Marx.
Then he turned and headed for the door.  The boy left a few seconds
later.  Obviously Brad was going to score.  Would I do any better?

--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <222335Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:16:51 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 5 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS: mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 5


	I roamed around the dark, noisy room looking for likely
partners.  The skate punks were out in force.  Suddenly Brad was at my
side.
	"C'mon," he said urgently.  "I talked him into a threesome."
	I had hoped to stay and wait for Evan, but since it was
possible he wouldn't show up I opted for immediate sex.
	With city kids you could usually just go to their house.  Brad
lived fairly close in a refurbished apartment building.  But when the
kids from the suburbs wanted sex with each other we had to find a
place to do the deed.  If it was a quickie there was always the
deserted hallways, or under the staircases.  There were bathrooms if
you were brave enough, but the security guards could catch you at any
time.
	When the mall wasn't busy you could do it in a toilet stall in
the bathroom.  The blower drops his pants and sits on the stool.  The
blowee stands in a shopping bag in front and you lean over and suck
him off.  If anyone comes it and looks under the partition, it looks
just like a guy in a stall with his shopping bag taking a shit.
Usually you can jack off while you blow the kid, but it's hard doubled
over like that.  And if the kid wants to blow you, you have to trade
places, and that's cumbersome and noisy.
	The mall was packed today so the chances of finding a deserted
corner were small.  I led them to the storage room where Evan and I
had our first encounter, but the door was locked.  I had no clue how
Evan had opened it.
	"Can we go to your house?" I asked Brad.
	"If my sister comes home early we'll be in deep shit," he
responded.
	"When does she get home on Saturdays?"
	"Noon, sometimes."
	I looked at the sixteen-year-old.  He had testosterone coming
out of his ears, he was so horny.
	"Let's go for it."

	Brad opened the door slowly, but it appeared the apartment was
deserted.  The kitchen was small and piled high with dirty dishes
whose odor blended with old furniture.  The living room sofa was
opened into a bed, since that's where Brad slept.  There were only two
bedrooms, one for his mother and one for his sister.  The arrangement
meant that if Carla came home early, the first thing she would be
treated to was the sight of three naked boys on Brad's bed.
	"How much longer do you have?" Brad asked the boy.  He looked
at his wristwatch.
	"Another hour." His voice was clear, but filled with
uncertainty.  "I'm supposed to meet my mother."
	"We'll have to hurry.  It's a twenty-minute walk back to the
mall."
	Brad and I began to unceremoniously undress.  Our shoes went
under the bed.  We normally retained our socks just because it was
hard to get them back on over sweaty feet.  Pants and shirts followed.
	"What's your name?" asked Brad.
	"Steve," the boy replied.
	"This is Josh," he said, indicating me, "And I'm Brad.  Don't
call me Red."
	"Okay," Steve said.  He was visibly nervous, and was taking
off his clothes slowly, laughing a bit to cover his anxiety.
	"Just pile your clothes on the chair."
	Brad and I pulled off our undershorts, our cocks bobbing up
from their confinement.  Steve stared at them, surprised at our
nonchalance at being aroused in front of each other.
	The phone rang and scared the hell out of all of us.  Brad
answered, said a few curt syllables, then hung up.
	"Good news," he said.  "That was Carla.  She won't be home
until dinner."
	"Yeah, but Steve still only has forty minutes," I pointed out.
	"Yeah," agreed Brad.  "Get your pants off," he told Steve.
	He hooked his thumbs in the elastic and lowered his shorts,
exposing a bit of pubic hair.
	"Oh, man, I don't know about this," he said.
	"C'mon, you'll love it," encouraged Brad.  Steve dropped his
shorts to the floor and straigtened up.  His cock was of average
length and girth.  He had hair on his legs, but not the fuzz Brad was
hoping for.  The pubic hair was dark brown and also covered his balls
a bit.
	"Nice one," said Brad.  I nodded in agreement.  "Are you a
jock?"
	"I'm on the track team," he said.
	"Thought so.  You have nice legs."
	"Wanna get the Dick-O-Meter?" I asked.
	"Sure," said Brad, and went to his mother's bedroom where he
kept his clothes..  Steve looked puzzled.  Brad returned with it.  The
Dick-O-Meter was nothing more elaborate than a ruler with pencil
markings on the side that didn't have the inches marked.  He knelt in
front of Steve and placed the tip of the ruler next to the base of
Steve's cock.  With a pencil he marked the tip and wrote "Steve" next
to it.  Then he read the other side.
	"Five and seven eighths inches.  Not too bad."
	The Dick-O-Meter had a dozen or so such marks, most clustered
around the five-inch mark, since most of the contributers were in the
twelve-to-fourteen age group.  There was one mark at the nine-inch
range, labelled "Brad", obviously a mark he'd put there himself.
	Brad's cock was no longer than mine, nor any thicker.  But he
did have the novelty of bright red pubic hair and freckles on his
cock.  It made for a change of pace.
	"What do I do?" asked Steve nervously.
	"Just lie down on the bed," said Brad.
	"And leave the driving to us," I added with a giggle.
	Steve reclined on Brad's unmade bed, his cock slapping against
his stomach.  I lay on my stomach on one side of the boy and Brad took
up a similar position on the other side.  We each put a hand on his
cock and lifted it away to a vertical position.
	We then began a practiced ritual of licking up and down the
boy's shaft, one on each side.  Our tongues touched frequently, but
our concern was pleasuring the boy.
	Steve was breathing in short gasps, whether from arousal or
nervousness I don't know.  I put my free hand over his chest and felt
his heart pounding.
	Brad and I then took turns sucking him in earnest.  While
Brad's lips were wrapped around Steve's teen cock, I flicked my tongue
over his balls.  His pubic hair tickled my lips.  The familiar scent
of boy's crotch sweat -- more distinctive than any other sweat --
assailed my nostrils, spurring me to more arousing action.
	Brad and I switched places.  I lowered me head over Steve's
glistening rod and picked up where Brad left off.
	"Let us know right before you cum," said Brad.
	After trading off two or three times, Steve started to gasp.
	"I'm c, ... I'm c, ... I'm cumming," he managed to blurt out.
	We acted quickly.  Brad withdrew the adolescent penis from his
mouth and took a firm grasp on its base.  As soon as his lips cleared,
I began jacking Steve just under his cock head, where most boys are
sensitive.
	I put my free hand behind Steve's balls so that I could feel
the convulsions of the muscles that would expel his semen.  We felt
his cock harden measurably, then the first wad flew into the air.  His
cock was pointing almost straight up, so the gob rose nearly eighteen
inches before falling back on Steve's stomach.  The succeeding shots
were each lower until finally his hot cum just dribbled over my hand.
	I released his cock and licked his sperm from my hand, making
sure he saw me do it.  Meanwhile Brad licked the cream from Steve's
cock head.
	Apparently Steve's impression of Old Faithful surprised even
him.  I licked the sperm from his stomach and otherwise cleaned him
up.
	"Oh, God," said Steve.
	Brad and I snuggled up to Steve, one under each of his arms.
Steve's underarm hair was matted with sweat.  Unsure, he clumsily
cradled us in his arms, not sure he wanted to do it.
	"So you had fun?" I asked.
	"Yeah, that was so cool."
	"How did you find out about the arcade," Brad asked.  He was
always into market research.
	"A guy on my team told me.  I said I needed a girlfriend since
I was tired of whacking off.  You know, just locker room talk.  I'm a
virgin, and I've never got past second base with a girl.  So he says
he knows a place where I can get a blow job.  At first I didn't know
it was guys sucking cocks.  When he told me I almost hit him.  But he
said if you're getting a blow job it really didn't matter if you were
getting from a girl or a guy.  I almost didn't go with you."
	"I suppose that means you probably won't be sucking our
cocks," I said.  Steve looked crestfallen.  "Don't worry about it," I
said before he could answer.  "Brad and I can do each other.  Besides,
if you'd rather have a girlfriend, that's cool with us.  But until you
get one, we'll suck you anytime you want."
	"Yeah, and you don't have time to do anything more."
	"Shit, your're right," he said, leaping out of bed.  His soft
cock looked beautiful.  I like older boys for sex sometimes because
they had cocks like men and faces like boys.  He pulled on his
undershorts and scrambled for the rest of his clothes.
	"There's usually somebody at the arcade," Brad said.  "What
you do is play a video game and stand back from it a little.  Then
grab your crotch like you're adjusting yourself."
	"Like this?" Steve demonstrated.
	"Yeah, but not so obvious."
	"Okay.  My friend just told me about the foot thing."
	"That's how we answer."
	"Okay.  Thanks a million, guys."
	Steve closed the door behind him.
	"Shit, was he nervous or what?" I said.
	"No kidding.  I didn't think he was a first-timer when he gave
me the foot."
	"He'll be all right," I said.  "Unless he jumps off a bridge
'cause now he's afraid he might be gay."
	"He wasn't gay, just REALLY horny."
	"Come to think of it, I'm really horny."
	"Yeah, me too," said Brad.  There was only one thing to do,
and we commenced doing it.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <222348Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:17:31 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 6 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS: mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 6


	I took Brad's cock into my mouth, though not with as much pomp
as I had Steve.  Brad and I were old hands at this.  His cock was
already slimy with precum.  Blowing other guys made Brad really horny,
and when he got horny he made about as much precum as most guys do
regular cum.
	I savored the salty, slimy taste of the boy's precum as I
vigorously worked his cock with my lips and tongue.  On the downstroke
my nose buried itself in Brad's luscious red pubic hair and relished
in the boy-sweat odor that gathered there.
	"Lemme suck you too," said Brad.
	I wheeled around on my hands and knees, Brad's dick still in
my mouth, until I was straddling his head.  69 isn't my favorite
position because then I don't get to use my tongue on the underside of
the boy's cock.  But we were so horny it really didn't matter.  I felt
his warm, wet lips around my cock and the ministrations of a practiced
tongue on my young member.
	My nose pressed against Brad's balls on the downstroke now.
Being on top meant I was responsible for most of the movement.
Although Brad and I hadn't had sex together since April or so, we knew
each other's sensitivities well.  We had a rhythm going in a few
seconds.  Our stomachs rubbed against each other, sticking slightly
because of the sweat that was accumulating.
	"Mmmf," said Brad around my cock.  I knew instinctively he was
warning me of his impending climax.  Brad's semen was known to flow
forcefully and copiously.  The first blast entered my mouth a few
seconds later.  His crotch convulsed a dozen times, but I was able to
keep up.  I finished the last few of my mouth strokes just as my own
orgasm began.
	"Here it comes," I said, letting Brad's cock drop to his belly
with a wet slap.  Brad's hands, which had been clasped around my lower
back, moved to my balls and crotch so that he could feel the spasms of
my orgasm.  I shot six or eight times, and Brad easily took my whole
load.
	I immediately rolled off of him and turned so that my head was
at the right end of the bed.  We lay naked together, panting for a few
minutes in the diminishing glow of climax.
	"You haven't lost your touch," said Brad.
	"Thanks.  Neither have you.  You could be a fireman when you
grow up.  All you'd have to do is jack off on the fire."
	Brad giggled at that.
	"I think I'm gonna take a nap," he said.
	"Sounds good," I agreed.
	We pulled the covers out from under us and got underneath
them.  Brad's body was warm against mine.  He wasn't into cuddling,
and neither was I, really, but we enjoyed being naked together under
the blanket and feeling warm, smooth skin next to us.
	Brad turned on his side and I turned the other way and dozed
off.

	When I awoke my legs were tangled up in Brad's.  He had rolled
the other way and was now "spooning" me a little bit.  I could feel
his soft cock and pubic hair against my ass.  The clock on the wall
said it was still early in the afternoon.  I moved a bit and Brad
stirred, then stretched.
	"Get away from me, you faggot," he said sarcastically, pushing
me away from him.
	"Hey, you're the one trying to hump me here," I said.
	Neither one of us was into anal sex.  I know some of the boys
in the arcade who did it for money took cocks up their asses, but we
always thought it was dirty.  Eric's finger in my ass had felt awfully
good, though, and I enjoyed playing with my own ass sometimes.  But it
was something in the To Be Tried Later category.
	"I gotta pee," said Brad, climbing out of bed.  He didn't
bother closing the bathroom door and was fully visible as a long
stream of piss arched from his teen cock to the toilet bowl.  He came
back and sat down on top of the bed.  His cock lay limp against his
thigh.
	"What do you want to do now?" he asked.
	"I dunno."
	"Maybe my sister got videos last night," he said.  He came
back from her bedroom with two videos.  "Take your pick," he said.
"'Sleepless in Seattle' or 'Casper'."  He made a finger-in-the-throat
gesture after "Sleepless in Seattle," so the choice was really moot.
	Brad's VCR was cruddy because it's all his mom could afford.
The television was actually quite good -- they'd won it in a raffle at
church.
	I decided to call home.  "Is Mom there?" I asked Becky when
she answered.  She wasn't.  "Okay, just tell her I'm at Brad's house,
and we're watching a movie.  I'll be home in three hours or so."
	It turned out to be a better movie than I expected.  It was
funny, and Brad had a contagious laugh.  We put a bag of Doritos and a
2-liter El Cheapo soft drink between us.  We drank from the bottle.
(When you share semen on a regular basis, drinking someone else's
backwash just doesn't seem like a big deal.)  It was nice just sitting
naked with a friend and watching a movie.
	"Do you think she's cute?" asked Brad, talking about Christina
Ricci, the girl star.
	"I guess.  I keep looking at her and seeing Wednesday Addams."
	"Do you think you'd ever want to do it with a girl?" he asked.
	"Sure," I said.  "I mean, I'd like to know what it feels
like."
	"Me too, I think," said Brad.  "I wouldn't mind doing it with
her.  I think she's kinda cute."
	We continued watching in silence broken only by crunching
chips.  Then at the end, Casper became a tangible person for a brief
time.
	"Oh my God," we both whispered in unison.  The boy playing the
real Casper was a blond godlet, tall and slender.  His face was
angelic.
	"I'd love to get into his pants," said Brad.  He was always so
poetic about these things.
	Our cocks started the erection process simultaneously.  By the
end of the scene we were in full, raging glory.  Brad started jacking
off.  I was watching the credits to see who the boy was.  As soon as
his name -- Devon Sawa -- scrolled across the screen I joined Brad's
self-stimulation.
	Devon seemed like a really sexy name.
	Brad got to his knees, pumping with a vengeance.  I did too,
and knelt facing him a couple of feet away.  He put his left hand on
my shoulder and I followed suit.  Our gazes were fixed on our penises
as we each pushed toward another climax.  Brad's hips were bucking in
time with his strokes.  The head of his cock repeatedly disappeared
into his closed fist, only to re-emerge an instant later, rocketing
from between his thumb and forefinger covered in precum.
	"Ohh," he gasped as the first blast of cum hit my chest.  Only
one or two more globs came out.  Not to be outdone, I aimed my teen
cock at Brad's chest and painted both his tiny nipples with my own
boycream.  Brad licked his own cum from my chest, and when he was done
I did the same for him, starting low to pick up the trails as it slid
down his freckled young flesh.
	"I better go," I said when we had sufficiently recovered.
	"Yeah," said Brad.  "I'm supposed to have this place cleaned
up when everyone gets home."
	"Want some help?"
	"Nah, it won't take long," he said, pulling on his underpants.
"I just don't want to do it."  His limp cock made a cute bulge in the
tight cotton.
	I put my own clothes on and helped Brad straighten the bed
out.  My cock was aching dully from its workout this afternoon.
	"I'll see you around," I said, and left.
	The air was springtime cool.  It was no longer too cool for
shorts, and I was able to ogle the legs of a few cute boys on the way
to the bus stop.
	The bus ride home took only twenty minutes instead of the
usual half hour.  Traffic was light, and there were few passengers on
the bus.
	"Where have you been, young man?" asked Mom when I got home.
	"At Brad's," I said.  "Didn't you get the message?"
	"No."
	"Becky!" I hollered.
	"What?" came the faint answer from the family room downstairs.
It was followed by the sound of running feet.
	"Didn't you tell Mom where I was?" I said, exasperated.
	"I left a Post-it on the fridge," she said, pointing.  "It
isn't here now."
	A minute of searching discovered it had fallen off and slid
under a cabinet.
	"I get nervous when you go downtown alone," said Mom.
	"Don't worry, Brad knows the safe places."
	"I know.  I'm just being the mother.  Anyway, this Tuesday
I'll be having dinner with a client and Becky will be at Sharon's for
her slumber party.  That means you only have to fix dinner for
yourself."
	Cool, I thought.  I can slip down to the arcade for an hour or
so.
	"I thought since the weather was so warm we might have a
picnic tomorrow in the park."
	"Can I invite Sharon?" asked Becky immediately.
	"Yes.  Would you like to invite someone, Josh?"
	"I suppose," I said.  I really didn't have a lot of friends in
the neighborhood.  Most of the kids my age lived in the newer
developments.  Our neighborhood was mostly young yuppies.
	"How about Jeff?" she asked.
	It sounded good to me, although we hadn't really done anything
together for many months.

	"Jeff," I said on the phone when he answered.  "You doing
anything tomorrow?"
	"Not much.  There's a baseball game on, but I'm not that
interested in it."
	"My mom's taking us on a picnic in the park.  You wanna come
too?"
	"Sure."
	"Do you want to bring ..." I blanked for a minute on his
girlfriend's name.
	"I don't think so," said Jeff without waiting for me to
finish.  "She kinda dumped me."
	"Really?" I asked incredulously.  "What do you mean 'kinda?'"
	"She just said she thought we were spending too much time
together."
	"That sucks."
	"Yeah.  What time tomorrow?"
	"One o'clock.  We'll pick you up."

	The plot was thickening.  It was possible that Jeff now had no
sex partner.  It was further possible that whatever sex he'd had with
what's-her-name had been less exciting than sex with me had been.  (I
remembered his toe-curling orgasms with my mouth around his cock.)  It
was even further possible that he'd be amenable to re-opening our
torrid love affair.
	Okay, not really likely, but still possible.  I'd just have to
wait and see.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <222432Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:19:14 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 7 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  mast teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 7


	It turned out to be the perfect day for a picnic.  The park
was only a mile or so from home, but we drove there anyway so we
wouldn't have to carry the stuff.
	Jeff brought a Frisbee and a Nerf football.  He wore a loose
T-shirt and thin, onion-skin shorts with baggy legs.  If he held his
legs right and you were in the right place, you could see all the way
up them to his briefs.  And the manly bulge inside of them.  Of
course that was probably his intent, but I didn't know if he was
coming on to me or just trying to drive me crazy.
	Sharon was Becky's hyperactive little friend.  I don't know if
she really was hyperactive, but she was genuinely fast-moving.  You
couldn't get her to stand still for ten minutes.  She was Becky's age,
but was what parents called an "early bloomer."  She had little perky
tits that poked spikes in her shirt.  Her parents could not convince
her to wear a bra.  Her hips had also begun to flare in the manner of
older women.  And she was always talking about the latest boy she
thought was really cute.  Of course, I tended to think the same boys
were cute, but I couldn't say anything.  At the moment the giggling
and whispers from the back of the car seemed to suggest she found Jeff
cute.
	Mom outdid herself on the picnic lunch.  She prepared
sandwiches of every kind, deviled eggs, chips, salsa, soda pop.  There
was plenty of food.  We languished on the blanket beside our table for
half an hour to start the digesting process.  Sharon and Becky ran off
to do who knows what.
	Mom and Jeff and I threw the Frisbee around for a bit, then
Mom decided she was going to go read her book.  Jeff and I continued
with the Frisbee for a while.  Jeff knew that Frisbee was one of the
few physical activities I did better than most.  I wasn't a total
klutz, just not athletic.
	Then he brought out the football.
	"I'm going to teach you to play this game if it kills us
both," he said.
	I knew the basic rules for football, but not the unwritten
rules for touch football with short fields and few players.  Besides,
I really couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a football.  And
it hurt to catch the damn thing.  That's why Jeff had the Nerf.
	Our playing carried us to different meadows in the park.  Jeff
was a tantalizing vision.  His new teenage musculature was filling his
body in nicely.  We had taken off our shirts, not because it was so
hot but because it was warm enough to do so after a long winter.  His
chest was lean, but sculptured with muscle.  The thin patches of hair
under his arms and the fuzz on his ankles bespoke his budding manhood.
His stomach was no longer the smooth, featureless wall of boy's flesh,
but hard muscle with delicate peaks and valleys.  His nipples were
large and dark.  His face was right out of a teen idol magazine, with
a trendy haircut.  His legs were long and delicately shaped, with just
the right balance between power and grace.
	Every time my hands fell on him to "tackle" him I relished the
brief contact.  And when he touched me I wanted him to keep his hands
there just a little longer.
	On one particular play Jeff was doing a typically good job of
evading my defense (we'd stopped keeping score), but I surprised him
with a suicidal lunge.  In addition to planting the required two hands
for downing him, my momentum sent us both crashing to the ground.  I
landed on top of him.  We were both unhurt, but our fatigue kept us
from standing immediately.
	Then as we eventually stirred, I identified the bulge pressing
on my chest.  Jeff had an erection, a full-bore, unmitigated woodie.
I looked at him quizzically and he just smiled.
	"Wearing these shorts usually gives me a stiffie," he said.
"I figured you wouldn't mind, since you've been gawking up them all
afternoon."
	"I didn't mean to," I said, which was a lie.  I hadn't meant
for him to notice, but my visual journeys up his thighs were carefully
planned.
	"That's okay.  I knew you'd get a kick out of them."
	"So you just wore them to see if I'd look up them."
	"Not really.  I was pretty sure you'd want to look up them.  I
just thought I'd do something nice."
	I rolled off of him and we both sat up.  Little bits of leaves
and grass were stuck to our sweaty torsos.  I was searching for
something to say, something to express what I was feeling.  But so
many emotions were fighting for attention that all I could manage was
staring at the ground.
	"That's a first," he continued.
	"What?"
	"Isn't the straight guy supposed to be uncomfortable talking
with the gay guy?"
	That broke the ice.  I laughed.
	"Well, you are still gay, aren't you?" he asked.
	"I suppose so," I responded.
	"Have you had sex with girls?" he asked.
	"No."
	"Have you had sex with guys?" he continued.
	"Yeah."
	"Sounds gay to me," he said.  Not an accusation, merely a
statement of fact.
	"That doesn't bother you?" I asked.
	"Not really.  I mean, I don't go telling everyone that you're
gay."
	"What DO you go around telling everyone?"
	"It doesn't come up.  Most of the people I hang out with now
are only interested in themselves anyway.  They wouldn't be
interested."
	"Besides," I reminded him.  "If you did tell them I was gay,
you'd probably have to tell them how you knew that."
	"Yeah," he said.  Then he imitated a Chinese accent.  "Small
matter of large secret."
	"Did you have sex with ...?"
	"Susan?  Sort of.  I guess I had about as much sex with her as
I had with you."
	I laughed.  "Then doesn't that make you bisexual?"
	"I guess you're right."
	"What did you two do together?"
	"Not much.  She was kind of nervous."
	"You didn't, like, put it in her, did you?" I asked
tentatively.
	"No, she wouldn't let me.  She was 'saving it for marriage,'"
he said, mimicking a blonde girl accent.  "But she did let me put my
finger in her.  Once."
	"What was it like?"
	"Warm and wet, like putting your finger in someone's mouth,
only tighter."
	"Did she ever suck your dick?"
	"No, but she kissed it once.  She was afraid to suck it.  And
she thought sperm was gross."
	"Well, it is," I said.  "If you're not used to it."
	"She definitely wasn't used to it.  She jacked me off a couple
of times, but she always had to run and wash the cum off her hand.
Real romantic.  She did have nice tits, though, and she let me feel
those whenever I wanted to."
	"What did her tits feel like?" I asked.  My own cock was now
in full erection, and in my jeans it had to be obvious.
	"Like yours, only bigger," said Jeff with a smile.  "I see
your engine is revved," he said.
	"Yeah," I said.  "I don't suppose there's any chance of, um,
taking care of these problems."
	"Do you mean what I think you mean?" said Jeff.
	"No," I countered.  "Forget I said it."
	"Hey," said Jeff.  His tone was suddenly serious.  I looked up
at him.  "We shared something really special together a long time
ago," he said.  "We probably shouldn't have done it, but we did, and
we both enjoyed it.  We can't change what happened or how it made us
feel."
	"How did you feel?"
	"I don't know," he said.  "That's partly why I didn't want to
do it again.  I didn't want to be gay.  I like girls.  I want to have
sex with them.  They turn me on.  But ... " and then he paused.
	"But I turn you on too," I suggested.
	"Yes," he said.  "But in a different way.  You sucked my cock.
Until then nobody had ever done that.  And nobody has done it since.
I really liked it when you did that, but every time you did I
pretended you were a girl.  I closed my eyes and thought of a sexy
girl with big tits and a tight pussy, sucking on my cock.  I was
always guilty when I opened my eyes and it was you."
	"Why guilty?"
	"Because you genuinely wanted to have sex with me.  I didn't
really want to have sex with you.  I just wanted sex.  And you would
do things others didn't.  I was taking advantage of you by giving you
gay sex when I really wanted a girl."
	"So what you're saying, basically," I said.  "Is that you only
had sex with me because you were really horny, and you didn't really
have any physical attraction to me."
	"Yeah, I suppose so," he said, looking at the ground.
	"I can live with that," I said nonchalantly.
	"What?" He looked up.
	"I said, that never bothered me.  You were a really cool guy,
and I was happy that you paid any attention to me at all.  Remember
when I told those guys I'd seen a girl giving you a blow job?"
	"Yeah."
	"I said that because I knew you needed to be straight.  We're
still friends, even if you want sex with girls and I want sex with
guys.  And partly because ... I'm not sure I'm gay."
	Jeff said nothing, but was visibly surprised.
	"I mean," I continued.  "I like having sex with guys, and I'm
attracted to them, but I think I might like having sex with a girl,
too."
	"So why don't you?" he asked.
	"It's not that easy for me.  I don't know how to act around
girls.  It would feel really weird asking a girl to have sex with me.
I know how guys think.  I know what makes them horny.  I know what
parts of their body to stimulate--"
	"Yeah," laughed Jeff.  "I remember."
	"The point is," I said.  "I started having sex with guys
because my first exposure to sex was with guys.  And that's what I
think is fun now."
	"Would you have sex with a girl if she offered?"
	"Yeah," I said.  "But who's going to offer?"
	"You never know.  Girls think about sex, too.  They just think
about it differently than guys.  And they get horny, but in different
ways."
	"Would you ever have sex with a guy again?" I asked.
	"I don't know," said Jeff.  "Was that an offer?"
	"It might be," I said.  "I was just curious."
	"It depends on what kind of sex, I guess," he said.  "I don't
really want some guy ramming his cock up my ass."
	"I don't either," I said.  "Maybe we aren't so different."
	"No," he said.  "I think we're pretty much the same.  Horny."
	We both laughed.
	"I'm gonna cream my pants if we talk about this any longer,"
he continued.
	"Wanna jack off?" I asked.
	"You mean together?" he asked in return.
	"Sure," I said.  "Like in the good ol' days."
	"I suppose so," he said.
	We stood up and walked to the nearby bushes that bordered the
meadow.  They were thick enough to hide our activities.
	I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped them over my hips.  My cock
bobbed up erect from my dark brown pubic bush.
	"You've grown some," noted Jeff, who was pulling his waistband
down in front.  His own member emerged, leaving a trail of precum.
	"So have you," I returned.  His cock was probably six inches.
Not bad for a fourteen-year-old.
	We began pumping, kneeling a few feet apart.  I had already
committed to not making any "moves" for him.  But I was not hiding the
fact that watching Jeff masturbate was the key turn-on for me.  And he
took reciprocal interest in my operation too.
	Thankfully it didn't take us long to climax.  We'd each
improved on cum-producing ability too.  Jeff turned slightly and hosed
down the bushes around us.  Gobs of sticky cum dripped to the ground
from the leaves.  I followed suit, blasting my load up into the air
and onto the ground next to Jeff.  He was genuinely impressed.  Our
eyes met.  We'd jacked off as friends, and it was exhilarating for
both of us.  We'd always be friends, no matter who we were having sex
with or what anybody else said.  We had a deep mutual respect that
went farther than petty stereotypes.
	The mood was broken by the sound of running feet crashing
through the bushes not more than thirty feet away.  I thought it was
some kind of animal until I heard the tell-tale giggle of Becky's
friend Sharon.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
For information (incl. non-anon reply) write to    help@anon.penet.fi
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <222400Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:20:15 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 8 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  teen mast

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 8


	"Fuck!" whispered Jeff as he quickly pulled his shorts back
on.  His cock was flipped upward so quickly that a stream of
residual cum flew from the tip and left a thin trail up my stomach and
chest.  I would have made some sarcastic comment, but I was too busy
fastening my own clothing.
	We retrieved our shirts and put them on.  Regardless of what
might happen next, we felt it was important to confront it fully
clothed.
	"Was that your sister?" asked Jeff, as we ran back toward the
blanket.
	"Yeah," I said, panting to keep up with Jeff.
	"Did they see us?"
	"They must have."
	"Will she tell?"
	"Hell if I know," I said.  "She likes gossip."
	"Shit.  If my mom finds out I was jerking off, she'll have a
total meltdown.  How about yours?"
	"Probably," I said, just to make him comfortable.  Actually,
I'm pretty sure Mom would have said "That's your business, dear."
	We stopped talking to save breath.  I could see Mom in the
distance, reading under the tree.  The girls were nowhere in sight.
Bad news.
	Mom looked up as we approached.  We slowed to avoid the
appearance of urgency.
	"Where have you two been?" she asked, not suspiciously but
merely interested.
	"Playing football over there," I said and pointed to the other
meadows.
	"I think we should probably go soon," said Mom.  "Where are
the girls?"
	"I think they'll be along soon," I said.  Our cocks,
thankfully, had been rendered flaccid by the long run back.  But
Jeff's cum was leaking through the flimsy fabric of his shorts.  He
pulled the front of his shirt over it, but it was spreading and would
soon be visible again.
	The girls appeared from the nearby bike trail, which ran near
the opposite edge of the woods.  The look on their faces told me
enough.  They'd seen us, and they'd seen what we were doing.
	"Get your stuff," said Mom.  "It's time to go."
	Any minute, I thought, and they'll see the spot on Jeff's
crotch.  And Becky'll say something, and then Mom will see it.  I had
to think.  Jeff had his hands in front of his shorts, but that would
be obvious too.
	Mom was directing the gathering of the picnic stuff.  I
picked up the water jug.  Then my plan formulated.  I unscrewed the
nozzle of the bottle and looked at Jeff.  He saw what I was doing and
nodded curtly.  With a rebel yell I doused him with the contents of
the jug, making sure his shorts were thoroughly drenched.
	"Okay, you two!" said Mom.  "Enough of that."
	She spread the picnic blanket on the seat for Jeff to sit on.
We rode most of the way home in silence.
	"Did you all have fun?" she asked eventually.
	"Yeah," said Jeff and I in unison.
	"We had LOTS of fun," said Becky from the back seat.  She and
Sharon giggled.
	"What did you do?" asked Mom.
	"Just walked through the woods," said Becky.
	"Did you see anything interesting?" asked Mom.
	Jeff looked at me with panic.
	"Yeah," answered Becky.  Sharon giggled.  "We saw two
woodpeckers," she said, barely able to contain her mirth.
	"What's so funny?" asked Mom.
	I turned and fixed Becky with a stern glare.  I sent her a
thought message:  If you tell, I'll make your life miserable.
	"Sharon's making faces at me," said Becky.  That satisfied
Mom.

	Becky and I avoided each other most of the night.  I called
Jeff.
	"Did she tell?" asked Jeff.
	"I don't think so."
	"What are we gonna do?"
	"Let's suppose she told my mom.  That isn't a problem."
	"Why not?"
	"Because my mom doesn't care about other people having sex."
	"She TOLD you that?"
	"Yeah," I said.  "What's wrong with that?"
	"My mom blushes when anyone says anything about sex."
	"I don't think my mom would spread it around."
	"Okay, then we're safe."
	"Not really," I said.  "If Sharon tells her mom, or Becky
tells someone else, it could get out."
	"Great.  I'm fucked," said Jeff.  "Why don't you just tell
Becky not to blab it?"
	"Because she's my sister.  You can't ask your sister for that
kind of favor."  Jeff was an only child.  "I promise, I'll think of
some way to fix it."

	I plopped down on my bed to do my homework.  Halfway through
English I saw Becky pass my door.  She looked in, then looked away
quickly.
	I went downstairs for a glass of milk.
	"You need a haircut," said Mom.
	"I do not."  That's the nice thing about having curly hair.
You can't comb it, and it looks the same whether it's long or short.
	"Don't you want short hair for summer?" she asked.
	"It's the same, long or short," I said.
	"Well, you should get it cut for school next year," she said.
"You don't want to go to your first day of high school looking like a
sheepdog."
	It was nearly eleven o'clock before I got all my homework
done.  I went in to the bathroom to take a shower.  Stripping naked, I
looked at myself in the mirror.
	I used to be scrawny, but thanks to the miracle of puberty I
was starting to get a real body.  My chest was still flat and largely
unpopulated with muscle.  If I turned sideways I could see the
faintest shadow between my pecs.  But my shoulders were broadening,
and that made up for it.
	Mom was right, I did need a haircut.  My hair was dark brown
and curly, like a good Jewish boy's hair should be, but not THAT
curly.  It sort of fell over the sides of my head in a mop that
stopped just under my ears.  I turned to look at the back, and took a
second to admire my cute little ass.  I clenched the cheeks to make it
look smaller.  Then I climbed onto the countertop to see it in the big
mirror.  I swayed my back and spread my legs as far as the sinktop
would allow, trying to mimic the poses I'd seen in my magazines.  My
ballsack was visible, like the guys in the magazines, and I stroked it
from behind.
	My cock was getting hard now, and I knew if I kept it up I'd
be into another masturbation session.  I climbed off the counter and
tried different poses with my legs.  They were pretty skinny legs, but
what could I expect?  I was simply not a muscular guy.
	My detailed visual inspection of Jeff came to mind.  I raised
my arm and leaned forward to see my armpit in the mirror.  Yes, there
it was.  A thin, almost imperceptible patch of dark hair.  I rubbed my
fingertips through it.  You couldn't tell it was there by feeling it,
but it was visible if you got a good enough look.
	I marked this off on the mental puberty checklist I was
keeping: "armpit hair, age 14 years, six months."
	I looked good with an erection, I decided.  Turning sideways I
saw the angle it formed with my body, and now that it was pushing six
inches it looked quite nice sticking out from my crotch.  My pubic
hair was still confined to the top of my groin, but a few hairs had
migrated down the sides of my balls.
	I had passed the point of no return now, so in the shower I
soaped up my cock and relieved myself onto the shower curtain,
watching the white cum mix with soap and slide down the drain.
	After drying off I headed to my room.  Walking in wearing
nothing but a towel, I was about to bare everything when I noticed
Becky sitting on my bed.
	"Geez!" I said, reinforcing the knot holding my towel in
place.
	"I saw you today," said Becky ominously.
	"I know," I responded.  "Now will you get out, please?"
	"I saw Jeff, too."
	"I know.  I was there.  Now get out."
	"Sharon saw it too."
	"I'm sure she did."  I was ready to call for Mom.
	"Was that how guys play with themselves?" she asked.
	"Yes," I hissed.  "Now get out before I call Mom."
	"Does Mom know you play with yourself?" she asked.
	"Yes," I responded, hoping to defuse her.
	"I'll bet she doesn't.  I'll bet Jeff's mom doesn't know
either."
	"Look, you little spy, that's none of your business."
	She was looking at my towel, maybe imagining what was
underneat it.
	"It is now," she said impishly, getting up and walking to the
door.
	Fuck, I thought as I closed the door after her.

	Monday was a hard day at school.  Toward the end of the year
all the teachers realize how far behind they are, and they give you
extra homework.
	It took all Monday night to finish everything.  Becky was at
Sharon's house.  Every second she wasn't in my sight worried me.  Who
was she talking to, and what was she saying.
	Jeff called twice that night.  I wasn't worried immediately.
Becky would wait until it was the right time to play her card.

	I lay awake in bed, the covers down, naked and spread-eagled.
The moonlight streaming through the venetian blinds made an
interesting parallel effect on my nude body.  Very artistic.  They
were perfectly horizontal.  My erect cock was exactly perpendicular to
them.  Hormones raced like electricity through my body.
	I was thinking of Jeff, and how it would feel to lie naked
with him in unabashed sex.  He'd never go for it, I thought.  I'd
slept with only three boys, as opposed to just using the bed for sex.
Brad was one of them.  It felt good, lying next to another boy.
	Jeff's words came back to me:  I don't want some guy fucking
me in the ass.  Me neither.  Was that true?
	I climbed out of bed.  In the clutter of my room was a
screwdriver I'd been using.  Its handle was smooth, hard plastic.
About the size of my erect cock, I noticed.
	Back in bed, I coated the screwdriver with petrolatum.  Then I
pulled up my legs in the classic "fuck me" position.  Reaching around,
I placed the handle against my puckered anus and shoved.  The first
bit was the hardest, as my sphincter opened to allow the tool (I
giggled at the pun) to penetrate.  I slid it in, inch by inch, noting
the feeling of fullness.  At the constriction near the hilt my
sphincter closed slightly; a good stopping place.  I manipulated the
shank, feeling with fascination the handle moving deep inside my body.
	I began to stroke my cock in the customary way.  The
screwdriver dildo filled me wonderfully.  As my climax neared I knew
instinctively it was going to be a big one.  I pumped hard, squeezing
my cock as never before.  My crotch muscles, for the first time having
something to press against, fired with unprecedented vigor.  The
handle pressed against the sensitive spot inside and took my orgasm to
a new level of pleasure.
	My cum hit the wall behind my head with an audible splat.  The
other wads landed in my hair and across my face and chest, thankfully
sparing my eyes.  (Brad got cum in his eyes once, and I learned from
his mistake.)
	I slowly pulled the screwdriver from my quivering asshole,
feeling my anus close together slowly behind it.  I wrapped it in
tissue until morning, and did my best to clean up the spewed cum from
my hair and body.  Then I slept the best night I ever had.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
For information (incl. non-anon reply) write to    help@anon.penet.fi
If you have any problems, address them to          admin@anon.penet.fi

================================================================================
Message-ID: <222411Z19121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 19 Dec 1995 22:21:05 UTC
Subject: REPOST: The Arcade 9 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  teen mast

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 8


	"Fuck!" whispered Jeff as he quickly pulled his shorts back
on.  His cock was flipped upward so quickly that a stream of
residual cum flew from the tip and left a thin trail up my stomach and
chest.  I would have made some sarcastic comment, but I was too busy
fastening my own clothing.
	We retrieved our shirts and put them on.  Regardless of what
might happen next, we felt it was important to confront it fully
clothed.
	"Was that your sister?" asked Jeff, as we ran back toward the
blanket.
	"Yeah," I said, panting to keep up with Jeff.
	"Did they see us?"
	"They must have."
	"Will she tell?"
	"Hell if I know," I said.  "She likes gossip."
	"Shit.  If my mom finds out I was jerking off, she'll have a
total meltdown.  How about yours?"
	"Probably," I said, just to make him comfortable.  Actually,
I'm pretty sure Mom would have said "That's your business, dear."
	We stopped talking to save breath.  I could see Mom in the
distance, reading under the tree.  The girls were nowhere in sight.
Bad news.
	Mom looked up as we approached.  We slowed to avoid the
appearance of urgency.
	"Where have you two been?" she asked, not suspiciously but
merely interested.
	"Playing football over there," I said and pointed to the other
meadows.
	"I think we should probably go soon," said Mom.  "Where are
the girls?"
	"I think they'll be along soon," I said.  Our cocks,
thankfully, had been rendered flaccid by the long run back.  But
Jeff's cum was leaking through the flimsy fabric of his shorts.  He
pulled the front of his shirt over it, but it was spreading and would
soon be visible again.
	The girls appeared from the nearby bike trail, which ran near
the opposite edge of the woods.  The look on their faces told me
enough.  They'd seen us, and they'd seen what we were doing.
	"Get your stuff," said Mom.  "It's time to go."
	Any minute, I thought, and they'll see the spot on Jeff's
crotch.  And Becky'll say something, and then Mom will see it.  I had
to think.  Jeff had his hands in front of his shorts, but that would
be obvious too.
	Mom was directing the gathering of the picnic stuff.  I
picked up the water jug.  Then my plan formulated.  I unscrewed the
nozzle of the bottle and looked at Jeff.  He saw what I was doing and
nodded curtly.  With a rebel yell I doused him with the contents of
the jug, making sure his shorts were thoroughly drenched.
	"Okay, you two!" said Mom.  "Enough of that."
	She spread the picnic blanket on the seat for Jeff to sit on.
We rode most of the way home in silence.
	"Did you all have fun?" she asked eventually.
	"Yeah," said Jeff and I in unison.
	"We had LOTS of fun," said Becky from the back seat.  She and
Sharon giggled.
	"What did you do?" asked Mom.
	"Just walked through the woods," said Becky.
	"Did you see anything interesting?" asked Mom.
	Jeff looked at me with panic.
	"Yeah," answered Becky.  Sharon giggled.  "We saw two
woodpeckers," she said, barely able to contain her mirth.
	"What's so funny?" asked Mom.
	I turned and fixed Becky with a stern glare.  I sent her a
thought message:  If you tell, I'll make your life miserable.
	"Sharon's making faces at me," said Becky.  That satisfied
Mom.

	Becky and I avoided each other most of the night.  I called
Jeff.
	"Did she tell?" asked Jeff.
	"I don't think so."
	"What are we gonna do?"
	"Let's suppose she told my mom.  That isn't a problem."
	"Why not?"
	"Because my mom doesn't care about other people having sex."
	"She TOLD you that?"
	"Yeah," I said.  "What's wrong with that?"
	"My mom blushes when anyone says anything about sex."
	"I don't think my mom would spread it around."
	"Okay, then we're safe."
	"Not really," I said.  "If Sharon tells her mom, or Becky
tells someone else, it could get out."
	"Great.  I'm fucked," said Jeff.  "Why don't you just tell
Becky not to blab it?"
	"Because she's my sister.  You can't ask your sister for that
kind of favor."  Jeff was an only child.  "I promise, I'll think of
some way to fix it."

	I plopped down on my bed to do my homework.  Halfway through
English I saw Becky pass my door.  She looked in, then looked away
quickly.
	I went downstairs for a glass of milk.
	"You need a haircut," said Mom.
	"I do not."  That's the nice thing about having curly hair.
You can't comb it, and it looks the same whether it's long or short.
	"Don't you want short hair for summer?" she asked.
	"It's the same, long or short," I said.
	"Well, you should get it cut for school next year," she said.
"You don't want to go to your first day of high school looking like a
sheepdog."
	It was nearly eleven o'clock before I got all my homework
done.  I went in to the bathroom to take a shower.  Stripping naked, I
looked at myself in the mirror.
	I used to be scrawny, but thanks to the miracle of puberty I
was starting to get a real body.  My chest was still flat and largely
unpopulated with muscle.  If I turned sideways I could see the
faintest shadow between my pecs.  But my shoulders were broadening,
and that made up for it.
	Mom was right, I did need a haircut.  My hair was dark brown
and curly, like a good Jewish boy's hair should be, but not THAT
curly.  It sort of fell over the sides of my head in a mop that
stopped just under my ears.  I turned to look at the back, and took a
second to admire my cute little ass.  I clenched the cheeks to make it
look smaller.  Then I climbed onto the countertop to see it in the big
mirror.  I swayed my back and spread my legs as far as the sinktop
would allow, trying to mimic the poses I'd seen in my magazines.  My
ballsack was visible, like the guys in the magazines, and I stroked it
from behind.
	My cock was getting hard now, and I knew if I kept it up I'd
be into another masturbation session.  I climbed off the counter and
tried different poses with my legs.  They were pretty skinny legs, but
what could I expect?  I was simply not a muscular guy.
	My detailed visual inspection of Jeff came to mind.  I raised
my arm and leaned forward to see my armpit in the mirror.  Yes, there
it was.  A thin, almost imperceptible patch of dark hair.  I rubbed my
fingertips through it.  You couldn't tell it was there by feeling it,
but it was visible if you got a good enough look.
	I marked this off on the mental puberty checklist I was
keeping: "armpit hair, age 14 years, six months."
	I looked good with an erection, I decided.  Turning sideways I
saw the angle it formed with my body, and now that it was pushing six
inches it looked quite nice sticking out from my crotch.  My pubic
hair was still confined to the top of my groin, but a few hairs had
migrated down the sides of my balls.
	I had passed the point of no return now, so in the shower I
soaped up my cock and relieved myself onto the shower curtain,
watching the white cum mix with soap and slide down the drain.
	After drying off I headed to my room.  Walking in wearing
nothing but a towel, I was about to bare everything when I noticed
Becky sitting on my bed.
	"Geez!" I said, reinforcing the knot holding my towel in
place.
	"I saw you today," said Becky ominously.
	"I know," I responded.  "Now will you get out, please?"
	"I saw Jeff, too."
	"I know.  I was there.  Now get out."
	"Sharon saw it too."
	"I'm sure she did."  I was ready to call for Mom.
	"Was that how guys play with themselves?" she asked.
	"Yes," I hissed.  "Now get out before I call Mom."
	"Does Mom know you play with yourself?" she asked.
	"Yes," I responded, hoping to defuse her.
	"I'll bet she doesn't.  I'll bet Jeff's mom doesn't know
either."
	"Look, you little spy, that's none of your business."
	She was looking at my towel, maybe imagining what was
underneat it.
	"It is now," she said impishly, getting up and walking to the
door.
	Fuck, I thought as I closed the door after her.

	Monday was a hard day at school.  Toward the end of the year
all the teachers realize how far behind they are, and they give you
extra homework.
	It took all Monday night to finish everything.  Becky was at
Sharon's house.  Every second she wasn't in my sight worried me.  Who
was she talking to, and what was she saying.
	Jeff called twice that night.  I wasn't worried immediately.
Becky would wait until it was the right time to play her card.

	I lay awake in bed, the covers down, naked and spread-eagled.
The moonlight streaming through the venetian blinds made an
interesting parallel effect on my nude body.  Very artistic.  They
were perfectly horizontal.  My erect cock was exactly perpendicular to
them.  Hormones raced like electricity through my body.
	I was thinking of Jeff, and how it would feel to lie naked
with him in unabashed sex.  He'd never go for it, I thought.  I'd
slept with only three boys, as opposed to just using the bed for sex.
Brad was one of them.  It felt good, lying next to another boy.
	Jeff's words came back to me:  I don't want some guy fucking
me in the ass.  Me neither.  Was that true?
	I climbed out of bed.  In the clutter of my room was a
screwdriver I'd been using.  Its handle was smooth, hard plastic.
About the size of my erect cock, I noticed.
	Back in bed, I coated the screwdriver with petrolatum.  Then I
pulled up my legs in the classic "fuck me" position.  Reaching around,
I placed the handle against my puckered anus and shoved.  The first
bit was the hardest, as my sphincter opened to allow the tool (I
giggled at the pun) to penetrate.  I slid it in, inch by inch, noting
the feeling of fullness.  At the constriction near the hilt my
sphincter closed slightly; a good stopping place.  I manipulated the
shank, feeling with fascination the handle moving deep inside my body.
	I began to stroke my cock in the customary way.  The
screwdriver dildo filled me wonderfully.  As my climax neared I knew
instinctively it was going to be a big one.  I pumped hard, squeezing
my cock as never before.  My crotch muscles, for the first time having
something to press against, fired with unprecedented vigor.  The
handle pressed against the sensitive spot inside and took my orgasm to
a new level of pleasure.
	My cum hit the wall behind my head with an audible splat.  The
other wads landed in my hair and across my face and chest, thankfully
sparing my eyes.  (Brad got cum in his eyes once, and I learned from
his mistake.)
	I slowly pulled the screwdriver from my quivering asshole,
feeling my anus close together slowly behind it.  I wrapped it in
tissue until morning, and did my best to clean up the spewed cum from
my hair and body.  Then I slept the best night I ever had.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
Please, report inappropriate use to                abuse@anon.penet.fi
For information (incl. non-anon reply) write to    help@anon.penet.fi
If you have any problems, address them to          admin@anon.penet.fi

================================================================================
Message-ID: <073302Z15121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 1995 07:26:46 UTC
Subject: STORY: The Arcade 9 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 9


	Jeff met me at the bus stop Tuesday morning.
	"Has she told anyone yet?" he asked.
	"Not that I know of," I responded.  "And I think we're safe
for now."
	"Maybe you are," he said.  "This is driving me fucking crazy."
	"How do you know your mom will have a cow?" I asked.  "She
can't be that dumb.  The whole world whacks off, you know."
	"I got grounded for kissing Susan," he said.  "Just kissing.
If she'd caught us ten minutes later I think she would have chopped
off my dick right there and then."
	"You're exaggerating."
	"The hell I am."
	"What about your dad?  What will he do?"
	"I don't think he'd care much.  He'd just tell me it's a waste
of time."
	Jeez, I thought.  No wonder you're an only child.

	I was almost too tired after school to go to the arcade.  But
I figured I ought to stop by.  Manny was the only sex boy there.  He
was one who did it for money.  The deal was that anyone under 18
belonged to us, the guys who did it occasionally for fun, and the ones
over 18 belonged to the hustlers.  As far as I knew, Manny made his
living in the arcade.  I didn't know much about him.  His real name
was Manuel Ortiz.  He was as fair-skinned as Hispanics come.  His
mother, I was pretty sure, was a prostitute on the west end of town.
He was twelve, and always dressed the same way.  They were probably
the only clothes he had.
	His jeans were at least one size too small, but in his
business the tighter the better, and his looked like they'd been
spray-painted onto him.  He wore no underwear, the lines would have
been visible.  His cock, rather large for a twelve-year-old (four and
three-quarters inches, according to the Dick-O-Meter), was clearly
outlined.  His Oakland Raiders T-shirt and jean jacket were clean but
tattered, having seen far too much wear.  He wore his baseball cap
backwards, concealing his greasy black hair under worn canvas.  His
face was angelic, but his eyes far too old for his age.
	"Yo Manny," I said.
	"Hey Josh, how's it hangin' man?"
	"Low as ever.  How's life?"  Meaning, of course, how's
business.
	"Slow.  Too many SPs."  In our language that meant "skate
punks."
	Manny was one of the boys who took it up the ass when needed.
He had to.  His livelihood depended on doing what his customer wanted,
or what his customer could afford.
	"One of your guys came in earlier," he said.
	"City kid?"
	"Nah, he was definitely a Burb."  Not Evan.
	"How long ago?"
	"About half an hour.  He might be back."
	"Yeah.  Want some pizza?" I asked.  Manny didn't take handouts
or charity gifts.  But I convinced him that even filthy rich people
share drinks or meals and pay for each other's stuff.  It was part of
being friends.
	"Sure, man," he answered.
	We sat in the food court.  Manny was trying hard not to be too
obvious wolfing down the pizza and Coke.  Mom was generous with my
allowance, and I usually felt like being generous myself.  I'd bought
him three slices and a large drink, and of course I had to buy some
for myself so that it wouldn't look like charity.
	I toyed with the idea of asking him what it felt like to have
a cock up his ass, but it was too much a breach of our tenuous
friendship.  We weren't really friends.  We weren't business partners.
I came to the arcade for pleasure, to satisfy the strong needs that
couldn't be satisfied anywhere else.  Manny came to the arcade to
survive.  Sex was merely the means of accomplishing that.  Did he
enjoy sex with his customers?  I didn't dare ask.  I really didn't
want to know.
	We walked slowly back to the arcade, pausing to admire the
opulence of the mall's offerings.  The people who shopped here lived
in a world I knew only a little about.  And it was thoroughly alien to
Manny.
	Back in the arcade I slipped a quarter into the same damn
Mortal Kombat game I always played.  It just happened to be situated
where I could see the door.  Manny, perpetually short on quarters,
usually watched other kids play.
	I could see him, near the pinball game.  The player was a
well-dressed office type with slicked back hair.  His foot was against
Manny's.  Manny stood to the side of the game.  In the dim light it
appeared the man was working the flipper button.  But as I
concentrated I saw the man fondling Manny's bulge with the back of his
hands.  Rubbing up and down, with Manny pressing back.  Message
received and understood.
	The man threw his hands up as his last ball dropped into the
gutter.  He gathered his thin briefcase and headed for the door.
Manny followed a few steps behind, taking a slightly different route
to avoid suspicion.
	Manny might go home with an ass full of cum, I thought, but
not hungry.

	Mortal Kombat was kicking my ass again when I felt a tap on my
shoulder.  It was Steve standing beside me.
	"Hi," I said.
	"Hi."  He was nervous like he was before.  "I came earlier but
nobody was here."
	"There isn't always someone here," I pointed out.  "We do have
lives."
	"I brought a friend," he said.
	"Where is he?" I asked, looking around.
	"Out there," said Steve and pointed to the mall atrium.
	"What's the deal?  Is he afraid to come in to a video arcade?"
	"Well, sort of.  He isn't sure he wants to do this.  And
frankly, he doesn't believe me."
	"What's there not to believe?" I asked.
	Steve looked around before answering.
	"He doesn't believe there are young guys here who ... you know
.... do what you guys do."
	"Let's go see him," I said.
	We left the arcade and met Steve's friend in the atrium.
	"This is," Steve began.  "Sorry, what was your name again?"
	"Josh."
	"Yeah.  Josh.  This is Tony."
	Tony was compact, about my height, but obviously older.  He
looked fifteen or sixteen, about the same age as Steve.  His face was
clear and intense, with straight dark hair parted on the middle and
falling just below his ears.  His brows were thick, but did not meet
in the middle.
	He was wearing loose jeans and a button-down shirt, untucked
so that the front hid his crotch.  His shoes were expensive Nikes.
His arms were devoid of even a little hair, and although he was not
inhumanly muscular they hinted of wiry strength.
	"He's on the sophomore wrestling team," continued Steve.
	"Cool," I said.  "Now we just have to find a place to go."
	"That's all taken care of," said Steve.  "Follow Tony."
	Tony led us through the atrium out to the parking garage.  I'd
done sex there before, but it wasn't a very private place.  Yes, there
were lots of nooks and crannies and hidden places, but there were a
lot of people.
	We wound down into the subterranean depths.  The cars were
fewer and far between.  At the bottommost level it was dark and quiet.
Tony stopped beside a large, customized van parked in an
out-of-the-way corner.
	"This is yours?" I asked.
	"It's my mother's," answered Tony.  He unlocked the side door
and we stepped into the plush luxury of the van's interior.  The
windows were equipped with venetian blinds which were already closed.
The rear of the van was taken up by a large bed on which Steve sat and
started unbuttoning his shirt.
	"So you really suck other guys' cocks?" he asked.
	"Yeah," I answered sheepishly.
	"Bullshit," he challenged.
	I put my hand on Steve's bulging basket.
	"I've already sucked Steve's once," I said.
	"How come you're messing with this faggot shit, Steve?" asked
Tony.
	"Have you ever had a blow job?" asked Steve.
	"Sure, lots of times."
	"Bullshit," said Steve.  "And you know it.  You're just as
virgin as I am.  You've never touched pussy and no girl's ever touched
your dick."
	"What if I told you Catherine and I are doing it?"
	"Bullshit," said Steve again.  "Catherine's legs are welded
together at the knees.  She thinks Calvin Klein ads are immoral."
	Tony seemed to deflate a bit.
	"Besides," continued Steve.  "What's the difference between
getting a blow job from a guy and from a girl?  A mouth is a mouth."
	"It's still a faggotty thing to do."
	"Only if you want to think of it like that.  I like thinking
of it as I'm getting blown and you're not."
	This got Tony's attention.  This and the fact that Steve and I
were both nude and erect.
	"Okay, you little cocksucker," said Tony.  "Do it."
	I didn't need encouragement.  I sat next to Steve and leaned
over so that I could suck him without obstructing Tony's view.  I
lathered up Steve's cock head with my tongue before inching down his
shaft.  Steve's stomach pressed against my ear and undulated in and
out with his breathing, which was growing heavier.
	"Sonovabitch," muttered Tony.
	Steve turned so that he was laying down sideways to Tony.  I
followed him and sat between his thighs so that I could get my tongue
on the underside of the boy's hot prick.  It also let me jerk myself a
bit while sucking.
	Tony, sitting in one of the chairs turned backwards, at first
tried avoiding his crotch.  But as my slurping progressed and Steve's
moans became more frequent, Tony couldn't leave himself alone.
Initially he fondled himself through the shirt and pants.  Then he
pulled up the shirt and fondled himself more obviously.  His pants
were too loose for me to see the extent of his arousal, but I was
laying money on full erection.
	"It's not faggotty to jerk off, Tony," said Steve between
moans.
	Tony said nothing, but unzipped his pants.  He was wearing
tight black bikinis for underwear.
	"Don't laugh at my underwear," warned Tony, half serious.  But
he needn't have worried.  My own cock leapt at the sight of his
six-plus inch sexrod as he released it from the tight nylon.  A dark
bush of pubic hair surrounded it.
	Steve was producing copious amounts of precum, and soon I
expected the real thing.  Tony was stroking himself with the ease of
one long accustomed to masturbation.  Only his cock was visible; he
kept his shirt on and his pants bunched around his hips.  But he was
clearly enjoying himself.
	Steve's hips were bucking uncontrollably, and I wondered what
kind of motion was being transferred to the van that would be visible
from the outside.
	"I'm almost there," he gasped.  "Oh, yes.  Oh, yes!  Unngh!"
He grunted from deep within his chest and grabbed my head.  Torrents
of hot sperm flew from his fleshy rod and coated my mouth and throat.
	Tony's eyes were wide in amazement at Steve's uninhibited
fucking of my mouth.  He was manhandling his rod with fury.  I let
Steve's cock slowly slide from my mouth.
	"Suck me," whispered Tony.
	"What?" I asked.
	"Suck me," he repeated.  "Suck my dick."
	I knelt between his jean-clad legs and took his cock from his
hands.  He'd already generously coated it with spit and precum.  It
pulsed warmly and glistened in my hands.  I took his cock into my
mouth, just the head at first, and then more of the shaft.  I admit I
was teasing him a little bit, swirling my tongue around the throbbing
hot flesh of his cockhead.
	"Oh, shit," said Tony.  "Shit, that feels good."
	Steve turned on his side and rested his head on his hand to
watch.  His now limp cock dripped a bit of cum onto the mattress.  I
wanted to warn him, but my mouth was full.  Really full.  Tony seemed
hung a bit larger than Steve, which was interesting since he was
shorter.  But I'd learned that penis size for boys didn't really
correlate to age or body size.
	Tony continued panting, gasping syllables that sounded almost
like words.  I bobbed my head up and down in his lap.  Then I decided
to do something adventurous.  I plunged my head down, taking every
inch of the boy's cock.  The teen cockhead filled the back of my
throat, and I called on every ounce of will power not to gag.
Nevertheless, the taste of pizza and come welled up in my throat as my
stomach convulsed.  In my efforts to keep my dinner down, I was
milking Tony's rod with my throat muscles.  My nose was buried deep in
his pubic hair, and Tony arched up with such force that his pubic bone
mashed my nose painfully.
	"Aaah!" he grunted in volume I was sure could be heard from
outside.  Then his cum, hot and creamy, blasted down my throat, far
back where I couldn't taste it.  But his pulsing penis filled every
cubic inch I could muster.  He spasmed for hours, it seemed, but after
a few seconds he collapsed back in the seat.
	I was understandably eager to get his cock out of my throat.
It slid out, covered with cum and spit.  It was still large, even
though it was growing flaccid.  My shirt was wadded up nearby, and I
used it to wipe a bit of the goop off his cock.  Then I tucked it
neatly in his skimpy black undershorts and carefully zipped his fly.
Guys seem to worry when someone else is working their fly.
	"So now do you think it's faggotty?" asked Steve.
	"Who the fuck cares?" answered Tony in a raspy whisper.
	"I guarantee Catherine won't do that for you anytime soon," he
said.
	Tony nodded his agreement.
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Message-ID: <090306Z15121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Fri, 15 Dec 1995 08:55:27 UTC
Subject: STORY: The Arcade 10 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  mm teen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 10


	We all sat for a minute to recover.  Except that I was still
hard and horny.  I felt a little silly sitting at their feet with a
full-on erection jutting up between my thighs.
	"What time is it?" asked Tony.  Then he reached back and
pushed a button on the dashboard.  The clock lit up.  "I have to be
home in about half an hour," he said.  "We're going to have to take
off pretty soon."
	"Where do you live?" Steve asked me.
	"Cascade Park," I said.
	"No shit?" said Steve.  "We live right near there.  What
school do you go to?"
	"Cascade Middle School."
	"And you'll be going to Northridge High School next year,
right?"
	"Yeah."
	"That's our school."
	There was an additional bond forged in that split second.  We
wouldn't be strangers searching for sex after this.  We'd be buddies.
Or so I hoped.
	"Are you going home now?" asked Tony.  "I can drop you off
anywhere you want up there."
	"Sure, thanks." I said.
	Steve noticed my erection.
	"Um, what do you want to do about ... ?" and pointed at my
dick.
	"Lemme just finish jerking off," I said, resuming my pumping.
"Unless one of you wants to try sucking it."
	Steve and Tony looked at each other with the "not me"
expression.  Tony was climbing up into the driver's seat.
	"I feel bad," said Steve.  "That can't be much fun.  I just
don't think I could do it."
	"There's something else you could try," I said.
	"What?"
	"Here, sit up."  He did as I told him.  Then I had him sit
back against the back wall and spread his legs.  I sat between them,
resting my back against his chest.  "Now, jerk me off," I said.
	"You mean --"
	"Just reach around," I said, pulling his arm forward.  "And
play with me like you're playing with yourself."
	He put his hand gingerly on my cock, then with more boldness
made a fist around it.
	"What the fuck are you doing?" asked Tony from the front seat.
	"Oh give me a break," said Steve.  "He earned it.  Besides,
it's not like we're kissing or anything.  It's just like playing with
my own.  Jeez, you're such a prude."  And with that he pumped my cock
with renewed vigor.  His chest against my back was hot and sticky, our
sweat blending together in an aromatic soup.  His strong fist worked
wonders on my cock.  He even made it a point to capture the droplets
of precum that appeared and add them to the mix of lubricants already
present.
	Tony backed out of the parking stall and meandered to the
street.  We ducked down as he drove through the parking booth and
re-emerged as we gained the street.  As Tony drove the familiar route
back to the north suburbs, Steve was bringing me to a passable climax.
	"Okay, here it comes," I said.
	"What do I do?"
	"Just squeeze harder," I said, preparing to cum.  I forced us
both to lean back so that the semen would land on my stomach instead
of the van's upholstery.  The orgasm felt better than most, lying in
the warm but reluctant embrace of an older boy whose strong arms
enveloped me.  I would have liked to stay there, dozing off to sleep
with our breathing in unison, but Steve had already stretched his
boldness and reputation to the limit.
	I stood up and reached for my shirt.  Steve was mostly erect
again.  I'd felt it against my back, and relished its pressure against
my skin.
	"You'll have to take care of that on your own," I said.
	"No problem," he responded.
	I mopped up my stomach and then handed the shirt to Steve so
that he could wipe his hand.  We sat side by side, putting our clothes
back on.
	We were fully dressed by the time we got to my house.  I
directed Tony to our house.
	"I live just over that hill," said Steve, indicating the bluff
that separated our development from the next.
	"See you around," I said.
	"Hey," said Tony as I turned back to close the door.  "I was
kind of jerk back there," he said with the discomfort of someone
unused to apologizing for his behavior.
	"Don't worry," I said.  "It's not an unusual response."
	"Yeah, but then you went and did something totally cool for
me.  You could have told me to fuck off, but instead you sucked me
dry.  I just wanted to say ... sorry."
	"Don't worry about it," I repeated.
	"Hang on a second," said Steve to Tony.  He jumped out and
pulled me out of Tony's earshot.
	"Tony comes from an Italian family.  They have this stud
reputation he thinks he has to live up to.  If anyone found out he'd
let another guy suck his cock, well, I'd hate to see what that'd do to
him."
	"Don't worry about me," I said.  "I don't tell anybody about
what goes on.  And neither does Brad.  It's part of the deal.  I don't
tell if you don't.  We all stay out of trouble."
	He climbed back in the van and slid the door shut.  Tony
backed out of the driveway and they both waved before driving off.  I
waved back.

	Mom's note said she might not be back until after midnight.
They were wining and dining a client, and might take him to a play and
then out for drinks.  Becky wasn't there.  She was at Sharon's at some
stupid girl slumber party.
	The bilious taste in the back of my throat made dinner
uninviting.  But I figured I'd soon be hungry again anyway.  I took a
shower.  As I was drying, the doorbell rang.  The bathroom window
overlooks the front door, so I peered out to see Jeff standing there.
	"Hold on," I said.  "I'm in the shower.  I'll be right down."
	I met him at the door in just a towel.
	"Has Becky said anything yet?" he asked.
	"Not that I know of," I said.
	"Is she here?"
	"No, she's with Sharon at a slumber party."
	I went up to my bedroom.  Jeff followed me.
	"I'll bet she and Sharon talk about it there," he said.
	"Maybe," I agreed.
	I took off the towel and dried my privates.  I figured Jeff
had already seen me naked enough that I didn't need to worry about it.
His eyes fixed on my dangling cock, though, and lingered for longer
than I expected.
	"Hey, keep your eyes to yourself," I teased.  "What are you,
some kind of prevert?"
	With mock fury Jeff wrestled me into some kind of headlock,
lifting me partly off the ground.  My legs (and cock) flailed as I
tried to get my balance.  Jeff's dick, although shielded by several
layers of cloth, pressed tightly against my naked asscheeks.  It
lasted only a few seconds, just long enough to display friendly
displeasure.  Not long enough for an outside observer, had there been
any, to infer anything out of the ordinary.
	"God, you're a weakling," he said after he'd let me go.
	"It runs in the family," I said.  Which wasn't true.  I just
wasn't that worried about it.
	I put on some briefs.  As I pulled them over my hips, I
imitated the lisp of the stereotypical effeminate gay:  "Do you like
it up?" I asked, adjusting my cock so that it pointed upward in my
briefs.  "Or down?" I tucked it forward under my balls.
	Jeff responded by grabbing the towel and snapping it.  The tip
cracked just inches from my crotch.  I hopped backward to avoid the
potentially stinging blow.
	"Ooh, you play rough," I continued lisping.  He came after me,
cornering me and not letting up until he landed a solid blow.  The
stinging red welt on my thigh brought me out of my silliness.
	"You want something to eat?" I asked, pulling on my jeans and
a clean T-shirt.
	"Whaddya got?" he asked.
	"I thought I'd make nachos," I said.

	In the kitchen I browned some ground beef with onion and
grated cheese on top of it.  I put this mixture on top of some Doritos
and then added lettuce, tomatoes, olives, and sour cream.  Jeff was
amazed.
	"You sure this won't taste like shit?" he asked.  Evidently he
had no concept of cooking in the least.  I suppose that was one
advantage of living with only one parent.  I could pretty much take
care of myself.  Jeff had every meal prepared for him, all his laundry
done, and the house cleaned underneath him.  That was an enviable
position, because he had more free time.  But it made him so utterly
dependent on his parents.
	He admitted that it was good food.
	"Sure beats the heck out of broccoli tuna casseruole," he
said.  "I think that's what my mom made for dinner."
	"What do you want to do?" I asked.  I assumed he'd come over
with some purpose in mind.
	"I don't know."
	"Have you seen the movie 'Casper?'" I asked.
	"No.  It looked stupid."
	"It's really funny.  And the girl in it is cute."
	We biked to the video store and picked up a copy.
	"You're sure I'm going to like this?" he asked.
	"Of course not, but I thought it was funny.  You can drool
over the girl, and I get to drool over the guy at the end."
	We watched the movie over the rest of the Doritos and some
warm pop.  At the final scene, Jeff said, "Wouldn't it be cool if
instead of dancing they just dropped to the floor and fucked like
bunnies?"
	"Hell, that's what I'd do if I only had five minutes to be
mortal."
	We rewound the movie and tried to think of something else to
do.  It was after nine o'clock.
	"Do you suppose Becky and Sharon have told everybody about
catching us fooling around?" he asked eventually.
	"I don't know."
	"Maybe they just sit around talking about Barbie dolls," he
offered.
	"Probably not.  When you were eleven you had the biggest
collection of dirty magazines on the block."
	"Still do," he grinned.
	"The point is, they're probably interested enough in sex that
they're talking about it.  And then everyone will know."
	"What are we going to do about it?" he asked.
	"Depends on what she does about it."
	"What do you mean?"
	"I mean she's going to use it for something like blackmail--"
	"And?"
	"Wait, that's it," I said.  "She's probably over there talking
about sex with a bunch of giggly girls.  All we gotta do is listen to
see if she says something we can use against her."

	Jeff was still unclear, but followed me to Sharon's house.  It
was still early enough that we had a nice over of darkness.  We crept
slowly into the backyard near the windows of the basement recreation
room.  There was no sound there.  We moved to the guest bedroom and
heard the hum of voices through the window glass.  A thick but not
completely opaque curtain hung over the window.  We could make out dim
shapes.
	The girls sat in their nightgowns on the floor.  They had food
and stuff around them, and what looked like a "Cosmo" magazine.
	"Can you hear anything?" Jeff asked.
	I shushed him and put my ear as close to the glass as I could.
I heard Sharon's voice.
	"God, can you imagine this guy naked?" she said.
	"What about this guy?"
	They were flipping through the magazine, looking at underwear
ads I suppose.
	"Look at that," said a girl I didn't recognize.  She was
pointing at the crotch of a man modeling skimpy underwear.  "No way
could a guy's dick be that big."
	"Sure it could," said Becky.  I cringed.
	"How do you know?" asked the first girl.
	"I've seen one."
	"You have not," they all said together.
	"Have to," she insisted.
	"Whose?"  I stiffened for the worst.
	"It's a secret."
	"Yeah, that's what I thought.  You haven't seen one."
	"Yes we have," said Sharon.  "I was there too.  There were two
guys and we saw their dicks."
	"Where?"
	"In the park."
	Jeff was listening to this too.  "It looks like they're not
going to tell," he mouthed.  I shrugged my shoulders.  Maybe they
would, maybe they wouldn't.
	"What we need is a way to record this," he whispered.  I
agreed, and that gave me an idea.
--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION***
Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <084336Z14121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Thu, 14 Dec 1995 08:42:08 UTC
Subject: STORY: The Arcade 11 (mm ff teen preteen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  ff mm teen preteen cons

THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 11


	Jeff pestered me all the way back to my house.
	"Just wait," I said.  "You'll see."  We entered through the
garage and I rummaged in boxes on the shelves.  "My dad's stuff should
be around here someplace," I said.  I found the three boxes stashed in
the back.
	Dad was an optical engineer, and he had lots of gadgets laying
around the house before he left.  The boxes I found were filled with
weird lenses, cameras, and all kinds of things I didn't recognize.
Some of it worked, some of it didn't, and some of it never worked.
These were things that Dad played around with in his spare time, just
bits of prototypes that never were produced.
	"Cool," said Jeff.  "You could make movies with this stuff."
	"Exactly," I said.
	One of the lens attachments I knew was a starlight scope, the
kind used to see in very dim light.  The other was an infrared sensor,
I guessed from the large red lens filter.  I took them out and fitted
them to the specially rigged video camera.  It was an old Sony
camcorder -- one of the first camcorders -- that had been modified to
take the experimental lenses.  It wasn't compatible with normal VHS
stuff, though, because it made it through a T-120 cassette in about 20
minutes.  The fast tape speed gave it better resolution.
	The battery belt, luckily, still had a pretty good charge.
	"Here, put this on," I told Jeff.
	"It's heavy," he said, hefting it around his waist.  It
wouldn't close tight enough, so he just draped it over his shoulder.
I plugged the cord into the camcorder.  I vaguely knew how all this
stuff worked, but luckily the connections were idiot-proof.
	We took the two lenses and made our way back to Sharon's
house.  I could still see the girls dimly through the curtain, and if
my head was close enough I could still hear them.
	"Come on," one of the girls was saying.  "Show us."
	Sharon was shaking her head.
	"How about if we all do it?" someone asked.
	"But she's the only one with real tits," pointed out Becky.
	What on earth could they be doing?
	"All right," said Sharon.  "But you have to promise not to
laugh."
	They all nodded.
	I tried the infrared lens first.  I wasn't sure it was
attached correctly, because the viewfinder was blank.  But then Jeff
noticed a dangling wire that should have been plugged into the camera
to power the receiver.  The viewfinder flared and then resolved into
ghostly images.  I could only see silhouettes, and the other heat
sources in the room were making it difficult to see what was going on.
I distinctly saw Sharon lifting her nightgown over her head.
	"Gimme the other lens," I whispered.  In a jiffy it was in
place.  This was much better, but I had to adjust the gain to get a
good image.  It wasn't a color image either, just shades of green.
But I was close enough to the window that the weave of the curtain
wasn't a factor.  I fine-tuned the focus and came up with a sharp,
clear image.
	Sharon's breasts were casting tiny shadows.  They really
weren't breasts at all, just swollen nipples.
	"Okay, now you," said Sharon.
	The two girls I didn't recognize suddenly got cold feet.  But
Becky slid her nightgown off too.  She looked pretty much like a boy
from the waist up.  Her nipples weren't any bigger than mine, I
supposed.
	"Can I touch them?" asked Becky.  "I want to see how they
feel?"
	"I suppose so," said Sharon.  Becky tentatively reached out
and brushed a fingertip against Sharon's nipple.  Sharon inhaled
sharply.  Becky, a bit bolder, rubbed them harder.
	"Oooh, that feels good," said Sharon.  At that, the other
girls knelt around Sharon and soon three pairs of hands were admiring
the girl's tiny tits.
	"What's happening?" asked Jeff.
	"You'd love it," I answered.  "No way are they going to tell
on us now.  At least not if this video turns out."
	"What are they doing?"
	"Sharon's got her nightgown off and they're all feeling her
up."
	"No shit?" asked Jeff.  "Lemme see."  I lifted the hood on the
viewfinder so that we could both see.  "No fucking way," said Jeff.
	"Have you ever let a boy see you naked?" asked one of the
anonymous girls.
	"Sort of.  I let him see me with my shirt off."
	"Wow," they all said.  I was pretty sure she was lying.
	"You know," said Sharon.  "It feels good to rub yourself
between the legs."
	"My mom says that's dirty," said a girl.
	"It's not dirty," said Becky.  "It's just playing with
yourself.  It's like rubbing your stomach or your arm."
	"Show us," said the other girl.
	"Okay," said Sharon.  "But you have to promise not to tell
anyone."
	She slipped her panties off and was then entirely naked.  I
wasn't sure, but it looked like Sharon had a little patch of hair
between her legs.  The resolution of the camera wasn't that good.
	They all oohed and ahhed over Sharon's pussy hair.  Then she
leaned back on her elbow and rubbed her pussy with the other fingers.
Jeff kept crowding me aside to watch.  Slowly Sharon spread her legs
until she was in a totally obscene pose, her legs spread.  I could see
some of the detail in her pussy.  And most interesting of all, my cock
was responding, worming its way through my jeans toward an erection.
	Becky, my own little sister, stripped off her panties and
began doing the same thing, only a little more tentatively.  Her back
was to me now, so I couldn't really see anything, other than that she
was sitting with her legs spread and her hand was busy in her lap.
	The other girls, awed for a while, pulled up their nightgowns,
pulled down their panties, and awkwardly imitated the other girls'
actions.  Sharon was really into it now, arching her back in time with
her finger strokes.  She paused and reached back for her overnight
back.  Stretched out like that she gave me a wonderful full-length
nude shot.  I panned up and down her slender, young body.  Jeff was
obviously horny as hell.  He kept squeezing his bulging crotch.
	Sharon returned to her reclined position holding a hairbrush
with an ominously shaped handle.
	"Watch this," she said.  She licked the handle to moisten it,
then placed the tip between her pussy lips and started to slide it in.
	"Eww," said one of the girls.
	"No, it feels really good.  This is what it feels like to
sleep with a boy."  She managed to get several inches of the handle
into her pussy and began fucking motions with it.  "Use your finger,"
she said.  The other girls found their vagina openings -- I assumed
Becky did -- and finger-fucked themselves.
	"This is so fucking hot," said Jeff.
	"Yeah," I agreed.  "Were we that horny when we were eleven?"
	"I sure was," said Jeff.
	Beck was arching her back now and I could see her finger
clearly embedded between her pussy lips.  I wanted to see if Becky had
pussy hair, but the camera wouldn't resolve it.  I did zoom in on her
pussy, though, since she was the one I absolutely had to get on tape.
	They continued like this for several minutes, abandoning
themselves to sighs and muted moans.  At last Sharon pulled the
hairbrush out.  As near as I could tell she hadn't climaxed.  Did she
know about orgasms?  I sure as hell didn't know enough about girl
orgasms to decide if she'd had one.  I was reasonably sure girls came
too.  The girls ceased their masturbation one by one.  The other two
pulled up their panties and pulled down their nightgowns again.
Sharon and Becky seemed content for the moment to be naked.
	A click and a whir beside my head told me we were out of
videotape.
	"Time to go," I said.
	"No, wait," said Jeff.
	"I'm out of tape.  Besides, they're finished."
	"They might start up again," he protested.
	"I think we ought to go see if we got anything on tape," I
said.
	"Okay," he agreed and we went back to my house.
	As we got into the light I could see what was causing Jeff's
inability to walk comfortably.  The bulge behind his fly was obscenely
large.
	There was a gadget for adapting the signal from the camcorder
to the normal video signal.  I found the required cables and connected
everything up.  There was an adapter for the camcorder, so Jeff was
able to shed the awkward battery belt.
	We saw first the shadowy figures in infrared.  Then the
starlight images came on.  They were sharp and clear.  There was no
sound, of course, but we could easily identify the girls.  Sharon
again removed her nightgown, and then her panties.  The masturbation
scenes were very good, even though my handheld camara work made for a
shaky picture.
	Jeff was aroused more fully.  He undid his jeans and pulled
his cock out of his underwear.
	"Sorry," he said.  "I just can't wait."
	"You mean you're getting hot over my little sister?"
	"Well, she's fucking herself," he explained wanly.
	"You are truly sick," I said with mock pity.  In truth, Jeff's
efforts to relieve himself were adding to my own arousal.  I admit
having been quite strongly turned on by watching the girls masturbate.
I was a stranger to girl sex in nearly every form except for Jeff's
magazines, which had aroused me when I was younger.  I had never
longed for female sex, I supposed, because there was just so much male
sex I could have.  And I'd never yet met a girl I thought I could
relate to as well as Brad and Kyle and some of the other sex partners
I'd had.
	Jeff displayed no such qualms.  He was fucking his fist with
great gusto.
	"Mind if I join you?" I asked.
	"It's your house," he muttered between sighs.  "And your
sister too."
	"I'd rather watch you, if that's all right."
	"Doesn't bother me."
	I freed my own throbbing member and lubed it with spit.  The
tape quit after a few minutes and the camcorder shut off.  We were
both too busy to start it up again.  I crawled over to get a better
view of Jeff's activity.  I didn't understand why he hadn't taken off
more clothes.  Only his shaft protruded over the top of his waistband.
It seemed to be causing him some discomfort.
	"You need help," I said.  I untied his shoes and pulled them
off.  I left his socks there.  Then I pulled his jeans down his legs
and off, piling them on top of his shoes.  His briefs followed,
rendering the sublimely handsome boy entirely naked from the waist
down.
	Jeff's cute face, the face that had won him unapproachable
fame in high school, was contorted in extasy.  Although older and more
chiseled, he still exuded the raw charisma that made others flock to
him.  His almost man-sized cock was rock-hard and purple in his fist.
He'd smeared so much pre-cum on it that it glistened like a jungle
snake rearing up from a bush of dark pubic hair.  The finely detailed
cock head, with its prominent top ridge of flesh and its inviting
little slit, quivered with his exertion.  His ballsack, resting
between his smooth thighs, was smooth and darkly colored.  I could see
the testicles constricting slowly under the rippled skin, pumping out
the little wormie guys that would soon decorate his stomach.
	I could really stand it no longer.  I licked the tip of his
cock head, remembering the peculiar saltiness of his sex fluid.  He
shot me a startled glance, which I met with the eyes of a boy so drunk
on hormones I couldn't contain myself.  My second contact was longer,
really a French kiss on his cockhead.
	I'd expected him to say something, or to draw away.  But
instead he continued fixing me with the quizzical gaze and pumping
away at his youthful organ.  Then I filled my mouth with his cock
head, rubbing my tongue under the delicately shaped flesh I'd admired.
Unexpectedly, he pulled his fist away finger by finger until all that
was left was his thumb and forefinger nestled in the hair at the base
of his dick, holding his throbbing cock upright.
	I rose to a kneeling position so that I could manipulate my
own prick.  I resolved to take full advantage of this situation, so I
applied the strongest suction I could to my friend's teenage cock.  I
deep-throated him several times, but I felt that if I did so for real
Jeff would be wearing partially-recycled nachos soon after.  His hips
thrust as far as his half-sitting posture would allow.
	Without warning I felt his gorgeous cock swell, and full
spurts of boycum fountained from the hole.  I fondled his balls a bit
as he finished his orgasm.  They were firm, drawn up between his
thighs as boys' balls are wont to do during orgasm.
	Exhilarated by Jeff's sudden change of heart, I unloaded my
own teen cum into my hand.  Crouched over as I was, Jeff couldn't see
it, but Jeff's head was on the floor.  I paused my oral activities to
enjoy the warm pleasure of my own orgasm, kneeling between the sexy,
smooth legs of my straight friend.  Jeff's stomach and chest were
heaving as he panted.  His T-shirt had been pushed up to just under
his arms.  He lifted his head to look at me, still holding his
softening cock in my mouth.  He didn't smile, he didn't frown.  He
just looked at me for a second and then let his head fall back.
	I let his cock slide out, and it nestled limply in his wiry
crotch hair.  I stood up, carefully cupping my load in my hand.
Jeff's eyes were closed, his clear, dignified features were now at
rest.
	I went to the bathroom to wash my cum down the drain and rinse
my hand off.  I brought back a towel for Jeff.  He looked very
seductive lying on the floor wearing only a shirt.  Most of his
virile, young body was exposed.  One leg was bent knee upward and the
other was stretched out straight.  He was dozing, seemingly oblivious
of his nakedness or my voyeurism.  His limp but still sizeable cock
drooped in its bed of pubic hair.
	I approached him, and he sensed it and opened his eyes.  I
handed him the towel, which he used to wipe off his crotch and
midsection.  He was mostly finished when we heard Mom's car pull into
the garage.
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================================================================================
Message-ID: <003303Z16121995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an180168@anon.penet.fi (The Encephalon)
Reply-To: an180168@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 16 Dec 1995 00:26:45 UTC
Subject: STORY: The Arcade 12 (mm teen cons)

WARNING:  The following story is a work of fiction.  It contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving minors.  I do not
advocate or condone actual sexual conduct contrary to applicable laws.
I believe that fictional fantasies are protected as free speech.  If
sex involving minors disturbs you, or if you are not old enough to
legally read this where you live, DO NOT CONTINUE.

KEYWORDS:  teen cons

NOTE:  I feel obliged to remind.  I'm getting a lot of compliments,
which I appreciate.  I'm also getting a lot of requests, which I don't
dislike, but I can't respond to all of them.  Some have asked me to
post the entire series.  I can't, folks, I'm posting it as I write it.
The chapters are coming as fast as I can write them.  Some have asked
to repost.  I will, but not until the whole story is finished, or
unless I foul up on the anonymous service again.  Some have asked for
mailed chapters.  I really don't have time to mail individual chapters
to everyone who asks.  I'd really rather spend the time writing.  I'll
be leaving for Christmas break soon, which means there will be a break
in the story.  Plan for it.


THE ARCADE
by The Encephalon

chapter 12


	Jeff scrambled to gather up his underwear and jeans.  Luckily
I was already clothed since I'd just pulled it over the top of my
shorts and jeans.  He was frantically hopping on one foot to get his
underwear on, causing his penis to bounce comically.  He got into his
jeans and fastened them as Mom came in through the kitchen.
	Jeff wanted to put on his shoes, but then realized it would be
perfectly acceptable for him to take off his shoes in my house.  While
he was dressing I was stashing the special video stuff in a cabinet
where I could retrieve it later.
	"Josh," called Mom.  "Are you here?"  Obviously she could see
the lights in the stairwell and hear the television, which was still
on.
	"Down here," I yelled.  Jeff's eyes were still wide at almost
being caught.  He was constantly readjusting his male equipment to
make it seem less prominent.  We sat on the couch and tried to look
like we'd been channel surfing.  Mom appeared at the bottom of the
stairs to the recreation room.  She was nicely dressed.
	"Hi, Jeff," she said.  "What have you two been doing?"
	"Watching a video," I said.  Jeff flashed me an alarmed glance
until he realized I meant _Casper_.
	"It's nearly eleven-thirty and it's a school night.  You
should be in bed," said Mom.  "And before you go to bed you need to
clean up your nacho mess in the kitchen."
	"How come Becky gets to spend the night at Sharon's on a
school night?"
	"It's Sharon's birthday, and they'll be out of town on the
weekend.  You have finals; she doesn't.  Besides, I called Sharon's
mother and she said they've been asleep for long time."
	Wanna bet? I thought.  Mom went back upstairs.
	"What did you do that for?" asked Jeff.
	"Do what for?" I asked.
	"You know, the ..." and he pointed to his crotch.
	"Are you mad?"
	"I was," he said.  "I thought we understood I wanted to do
things with girls."
	"I still understand that," I said.  "But why does that mean
you can't do things with guys too?"
	"Because," he said, as if that were the only reason he needed.
	"You said you were mad.  Are you mad now?"
	He deflated a bit.  "No, I stopped being mad after you started
doing such a good job.  Honestly I forgot what it was like to get
sucked.  It was so good that part of me didn't want you to stop.  But
I didn't want to, you know, have gay sex."
	"I don't think of it as gay sex or straight sex," I said.  "I
just think of it as sex."
	"Well, I have a hard time thinking of it like that.  I think
everyone else would, too."
	"Wanna bet?"
	"What do mean?"
	I paused a bit.  "Do you ever wonder why I don't ride the
school bus home most evenings?"
	"I don't ride it home all the time either.  Sometimes we have
flag football or something."
	"Have you ever been to the Parkside Mall?"
	"Sure."
	"Ever been to the arcade?"
	"No."

	I spent the next fifteen minutes telling Jeff about the people
I'd met and had sex with.  He didn't believe me at first.  He thought
I was bragging.  But gradually he came to understand I was telling the
truth.
	"How many guys have you had sex with?" he asked.
	"I honestly have no idea.  Regularly I have sex with probably
half a dozen guys."
	"How old are they?"
	"Most are our age."
	"And most of them are straight?"
	"Most of the regular guys are gay.  But most of the guys that
come in just one or two times are straight.  They just need some kind
of sex.  They have girlfriends, but all the sex they get is jerking
off."
	This was almost too much for him to believe.
	"The two guys who came in today were straight.  I sucked them
both off."
	"Time to wrap it up down there!" Mom called down the stairs.
Jeff put his shoes on.
	"I still can't believe that straight guys are going there to
get blow jobs."  But it was more rhetorical than doubtful.
	I said goodnight to Jeff and watched his cute ass wiggle as he
walked down the sidewalk.

	Wednesday was a long day at school again.  There were
assignments in every class.  I stashed the video stuff as soon as I
got home from school.  Mom was running errands.  I stood at the door
of Becky's bedroom with the videotape in my hand.
	"Know what this is?" I asked.
	"Sure, dummy, it's a videotape," she said.
	"Know what it's a tape of?" I asked.
	"Nope."
	"It's a tape of you and Sharon and those two other girls at
Sharon's house last night."
	She froze in a forlorn expression.
	"I suppose it would be bad if Mom saw this.  Or if Sharon's
mom saw it."
	She nodded.
	"Personally," I continued, "I don't give a crap what you do.
If you want to get naked with your friends, that's fine.  But other
people can get in trouble if their parents find out what's going on.
So here's the deal.  You forget what you saw in the woods the other
day, and I'll just forget about this tape."
	"Will you erase it?"
	"No, because as soon as I do, you'll tell everybody what Jeff
and I were doing.  Only I know where the tape is.  If I hear anything
about what happened at the park, I'll give a copy of the tape to the
parents of every girl who was at Sharon's house."
	"Okay," she said, resigned to defeat.
	"Did you already tell the other girls who you saw?"
	"No, I swear," she said, almost crying.  "Sharon just said we
saw two boys."
	"You don't need to get upset," I said.  "You have a secret and
I have a secret.  Let's just keep our secrets."
	I hadn't planned to make her so upset, but I suppose there's
no way to make blackmail painless.  At dinner I made conversation that
let her talk about other things.  We avoided talking about Sharon or
the party, which suited her fine.
	I spent most of that night doing homework.  Jeff had been
surprised to see me on the bus on the way home.  He called a couple of
times to ask about algebra homework.  Although we weren't in the same
class we had the same teacher.  I don't know where he got off thinking
I knew anything about algebra, but I felt I owed it to him after first
betraying a tacit agreement and then laying the heavy news about the
arcade on him.

	"Did you ever get problem 19?" asked Jeff at the bus stop the
next day.  I was a little preoccupied. This was the day of my magic
rendezvous with Evan.
	"Yeah," I said, handing him my sheet.
	"I did that too, but it came out a different way," he said.  I
looked at his paper.
	"That's an equivalent answer," I said.
	"Huh?"
	"Look, you move the X over here and divide everything by two."
	"Oh.  I didn't see that."
	I didn't mention that it had taken nearly twenty minutes for
me to see it, all the while Becky was drifting past my door, hovering
about to see what I was up to.

	I didn't feel like eating much at lunch.  The cafeteria food
wasn't that bad, but it was, after all, cafeteria food.  I was nervous
that Even wouldn't show up.  Or that we'd miss each other.  Usually a
good jerk-off would calm me down.  But you had to be careful at
school.  There were very few private places.
	I knew of one bathroom near the stage.  Actually, it was more
under the stage, near the makeup and dressing rooms used for drama
productions.  They were normally deserted, and so normally the hallway
was locked.  But occasionally the theater teachers needed to get in
there and they frequently left the door unlocked for their own
convenience.
	It was a small bathroom with one urinal and two stalls.  I was
dismayed to see two feet under one of the stalls.  I went into the
other one and dropped my pants.  Surely the other kid would finish
taking a dump and leave soon.
	Then it became obvious he was not taking a dump.
	I could see his shoes from where I sat.  They were nice, and
smaller than mine.  That made the kid a seventh grader, since there
weren't very many eighth graders with feet that small.  I could here
him breathing heavily, but trying to cover it.
	"Hey," I whispered.  "Are you jerking off over there?"
	"No," came the response in a high teen voice.
	"It sounds like you are," I persisted.  I was almost sure he
was lying, and I didn't think he'd come clean easily.  "I'm jerking
off over here.  As long as we're both jerking off, do you want to do
it together?"
	There was a long pause.
	"Yeah, I guess so," came the feeble voice.
	"Hang on," I said.  "I'll be right over."
	I stood up and pulled my pants up high enough to walk, then
stood outside the door of his still while he reached up to unlock it.
I slipped inside and closed it behind me.
	The boy was twelve or thirteen, I couldn't really tell.  He
was one of the more affluent boys in our neighborhood, judging from
his clothes.  He had a rugby sport shirt and Guess denim shorts.  His
legs were smooth, with preteen musculature.  His hair was cut in
bilevel fashion.  The top was very blond, but the cutaway part was
darker.  He probably got a lot of sun.  He had blue eyes and freckles,
and a smooth, hairless face.
	His hand was over his crotch, hiding his equipment from my
view.
	"I suppose I'll just stand here," I said, leaning back against
the door.
	"What if someone comes in?" the boy asked.
	"They won't.  I locked the hallway door with the knob."
	"Oh, I never thought to do that."
	I dropped my pants again and pulled my shirt up.  My cock was
pointing upwards.  The boy looked with wide eyes.
	"Wow," he said.  I didn't see what he was looking at until he
bared his own crotch.  His own cock was fairly meager, only about four
inches of erection.  His balls were fully formed but entirely
hairless.  Only a thin ridge of light brown pubic hair crested his
little boyrod.
	"Don't worry," I said.  "It'll grow.  Especially if you keep
playing with it."  My shirt was in the way, so I took it off and hung
it on the hook.  "Here, give me your shirt," I said.  He took it off
and handed it to me.  His chest was flat and featureless, a boy's
chest.  His shoulders were narrow and his arms were spindly.
	He watched fascinated as I licked my hand and wrapped it
around what to him must seem a gargantuan prick.  He followed suit,
using his fingertips.  He leaned back to get a better angle, resting
uncomfortably against the cold chrome plumbing.  I moved my feet
forward so that most of my weight was resting against the door.  We
stroked in silence for a minute, eyeing each others' efforts.
	I decided to be a bit bold, at the risk of traumatizing the
kid.
	"Have you ever had anyone suck your dick?" I asked.
	"Huh-uh," he shook his head.
	"Mind if I try?"
	"You'd really do it?"
	"Sure.  It feels good."
	He was all too willing.  I doubt he was gay.  He was like Jeff
was at that age, anxious to try anything new, especially having to do
with sex.  He lifted his hips from the seat.
	"No, just sit there and spread your legs."
	He did as I told him, and I knelt awkwardly between his legs.
Awkwardly because my pants were still bunched around my ankles.  His
boyprick pointed straight up at the sky.  I pulled it away from his
stomach with my finger and slurped it all the way down.  My chin was
pressed against his tight boy sack and my upper lip matted his pubic
hair.  After sucking so many larger cocks, his was a breeze.  There
was plenty of room for my tongue to work its magic under his sensitive
shaft.  His hands were pressed against the sides of the stall for
balance, and his little involuntary pelvic motions made squeaking
noises on the toilet seat.
	I fondled his testicles, little budding orbs of emerging
manhood.  I was the complete master of his arousal, teasing him with
my lips and tongue to the point of orgasm fully half a dozen times
before allowing him to spray his thin liquid in my mouth.  My hormones
raged at the site of this young lad writhing in the throes of what was
supposed to be an adult activity.  Swallowing his load was easy.
	"Did you eat it?" he asked.
	I nodded, still working my tongue around the inside of my
mouth.
	"Eww," he said, wrinkling his nose.
	"You get used to it," I said.  His cock was quickly limp and
hung over his smooth balls.
	I stood up, my own hard-on raging reddish purple.  I resumed
stroking it.  The boy looked at it eagerly, only a foot or two away
from his face.  He shifted his weight uncomfortably on the seat.  It
took me a minute to notice his glances.
	"You can touch it if you want," I said, moving my hand away.
	He tentatively took it between thumb and forefinger, then
grasped it fully.  His fingers were cold on my turgid flesh.  He
explored it a bit further, then ran his fingers through my curly pubic
hair.  He cradled my balls in his slender hand.
	"Do you want to try sucking it?" I asked.  He looked up at me,
surprised.
	"I don't know how," he said.
	"It's easy.  Just do what I did."
	I inched forward, still standing between his legs.  He leaned
forward, still holding my rod.  I felt his lips go round my cock head.
His mouth was stretched tight over the dark flesh.  He could get just
a little of it in.  He pulled it out again.
	"Don't cum in my mouth, okay?" he said.
	"I won't."
	He resumed his efforts, and they were valiant if
inexperienced.  He was attempting the same tongue motions I had used
on him, but my rod was simply too large for him to hold in his mouth.
He tried pumping me, but he could only manage half an inch or so of
travel.  At last he gave up and pulled it out again.
	"My jaw hurts," he said.
	"Yeah, you should really be doing this with someone your own
age."  Of course, what I meant was someone his own size.  "Just lick
it underneath," I said.  He stuck his tongue out and ran it the full
length of my shaft, moistening the thick vein underneath.  Thus
slicked up, I commenced jacking off again.
	Thankfully it was only a few seconds until I felt the first
wave of orgasm.  The boy watched in delight as I gasped and bucked my
hips.  I put my hand on his shoulder, holding his young torso in
place.  With my other hand I aimed my spurting cock at his flat chest,
coating it with gobs of teenage cum.  It hung in great droplets and
slowly began its journey down to his lap.
	He was a bit surprised, but didn't seem to be bothered by the
spunk sliding down his body.  He dipped a fingertip in one of the
larger trails and brought it to the tip of his tongue.  His expression
changed instantly to one of disgust at the taste, and he worked his
jaw and tongue to rid himself of it.
	"Allow me," I said, and bent my head to his chest.  I licked
each of the trails up, starting at his belly and working up to his
chest where the load had landed.  In a jiffy there was no trace of cum
left on his body.
	"Better than jerking off, isn't it," I said.
	"Yeah," he said with a nervous smile.  "I'll bet I'm late for
class, though."
	I looked at my watch.
	"Just a minute or two, if we hurry."
	I handed him his shirt and he pulled it on.  He stood up and
fastened his shorts.  It was a little cramped, both of us dressing at
the same time, but we did need to hurry.  He started for the door
ahead of me.  I rubbed his shoulders in the classic massage gesture.
	"Wanna do this again some time?" I asked.
	"I don't know," he replied noncommittally.  "It's kinda gay,
isn't it?"
	"Might be," I agreed.  "But it sure feels good."
	He nodded in agreement, and we went back to our classes.
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