There’s no doubt that fourteen-year-old Jeff Douglas was asking for it. He was before his time in discovering he was more into men than woman and was dying to explore his sexuality. And his interest in sex went to older men--not old men, but guys he saw at the gym he sometimes went to with his Uncle Brad--guys that were always in the gym, always working out, and getting themselves all muscled up. Jeff’s fantasies were to be complete submissives to muscled-up guys who wanted to completely dominate him--not humiliate him but lay him out and take him totally. Uncle Brad liked guys too, and Jeff saw him interact with some of these muscle guys at the gym when they went there. He saw Uncle Brad exchanging special looks with these guys sometime and Jeff wanted to get these looks too. Sometimes he did. He certainly got them from the guy who sometimes was at the public pool he went to.
Jeff picked up some other things from Uncle Brad too. He had a stash of magazines in his apartment that Jeff liked to look at and imagine himself in and there were some videos Jeff watched when Jeff was sitting with Uncle Brad’s dog, Rex, while Uncle Brad was off somewhere--sometimes with a guy from the gym. Jeff knew it was guys from the gym, because he would go to the apartment window when Uncle Brad left and Jeff would see who was driving one of the convertibles Uncle Brad got into.
Magazines and videos weren’t the only things Jeff found in Uncle Brad’s apartment. He found toys too. The magazines and videos showed him what they were for and how to use them, and, being an inquisitive teenager, Jeff gave some of them a try. Uncle Brad had a collection of dildos, and Jeff had tried those out. He found that they turned him on. He was only beginning to feel the effects of being turned on--and completing--and he was even more turned on by all of that.
Yep, he’d already decided he wanted to be a man’s boy.
Jeff wanted to be like Uncle Brad and get what Uncle Brad was getting.
So, when the guy at the public pool paid attention to him and gave him those special looks--especially one guy--Jeff gave them the looks back. He saw it as just experimenting and teasing, but he didn’t fool himself about the possibility it would go further. The man who watched him, in particular, most was a real stud in Jeff’s eyes. At first it was just from across the pool. Jeff was part of the swim team at the pool. He’d started with his scout troop and earning a swimming badge by learning the various strokes. Some of the scouts stayed with the pool, though, and joined its swim team. Jeff did.
Then he noticed that on swim team practice mornings there were some men who came to the pool at the same time. They mostly lounged on recliners across the pool from where the team swimmers were gathered, and they’d watch the kids and talk among themselves. Occasionally they’d dive in the pool but then get right back out and return to their lounge beds. They didn’t come close to the kids; they just ogled them.
One man, in particular, was always watching Jeff. It was hard for Jeff not to know that he was being watched. The guy was older, in Jeff’s eyes. Maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He was in good condition. No fat on him. He was dark haired and complexioned--tanned, like he spent a lot of time out in the sun. His chest and arms bulged with muscle. He must work in some sort of job and exercised his muscles a lot, Jeff thought. His stomach was flat and his thighs were muscular too. He wore tight Speedo swim trunks, so Jeff got a good idea about what he’d learned to look for in those magazines and videos Uncle Jeff had. He bulged there like most of the guys in the magazine did.
And he was always looking at Jeff--his eyes having the same searching, needy look that Jeff saw go between Uncle Brad and some of the guys at the gym--the guys who came and picked Uncle Brad up while Jeff was sitting with Rex and not bringing him back for several hours.
The man made his intentions clear one day when Jeff stayed after swim team practice to work on his backstroke and ended up going into the locker room after everyone else had cleared out. As he moved into the locker room, he saw the man rise from his lounge bed and saunter in his direction. Jeff was in the communal shower when the man came in to. He was naked and in half erection. Jeff well knew what an erection on a man was and what a man did with it. For some time he’d been aching to have a man do it with him, and so Jeff had an erection too when the man was in the shower, soaping up, and smiling at Jeff.
What struck Jeff as particularly arousing was the guy’s tan lines. He was deeply tanned everywhere but what his Speedo covered. Being light skinned there made that area pronounced, and what it pronounced was a plump butt, a trimmed groin, with curly pubic hair, and a big cock, with meaty, low-hanging, hairy balls. Jeff found that sexier than if the guy had been a dark tan color all over.
“Hi,” the man said. “Have been watching you swimming. You got style, kid.”
“Um, thanks,” Jeff said.
“You’ve been watching me too.”
Jeff didn’t answer. He just looked sheepish and gave a little smile. He didn’t even think to turn from the man or hide the fact that he was erect too. The man certainly was huge erect, Jeff thought--like a lot of the guys in Uncle Brad’s magazine stash.
“I think you kind’a like me--the way I look. The cut of my body. You seen a prick this size before? You got a nice one too.”
“Uh, thanks,” was all Jeff could say. But he was staring at the man’s cock, which was in full erection. The man was holding it, pretending to soap it up to clean it, but he didn’t have to hold it that long to clean it. “You know what it means when a guy is hard like this?” the man asked. He was holding the erection and pointing it at Jeff. He wasn’t embarrassed about that at all.
“Um, I think so,” Jeff answered.
“It means someone turns him on. You and me are the only ones here, so I think you know what that means. You’re hard too. You know that means you’re interested too. You can see that I’m interested. You interested, kid? Are you maybe a little bit excited about us being here, together, naked?”
“Yes,” Jeff mumbled.
“I didn’t hear you. Did you say yes?”
“Yes,” Jeff said, louder.
“I wonder how old you are to be able to get hard like that. How old are you, kid?”
“Fourteen,” Jeff answered.
“Nice. Young enough to be innocent and tight but old enough to be thinking thoughts men have. You can touch mine if I can touch yours. You ever touched a man’s prick before?”
The man reached out and took Jeff’s hand, pulling the boy a bit closer to him. Jeff yielded to him. He moved Jeff’s hand to where it was cupping the man’s cock. When Jeff didn’t pull away--didn’t actively take a grip but didn’t pull away, just gave a low moan--the man reached over and encased Jeff’s cock with one of his hand. Jeff immediately went harder and began to tremble. The man gave a low laugh.
“So, here we are, feeling each other up,” the man said. “We’re both hard. You got any ideas, kid? I got a few ideas.”
Just then they heard whistling from someone entering the locker room, though, so, instinctively, the man released Jeff’s cock and turned away, soaping himself up again and rinsing off as another man entered the shower.
Jeff heard the word “Later” being hissed before the other guy got into the shower room.
Jeff had turned away too and stood under the shower, willing his cock to deflate, which, after a minute it was doing enough to allow him to grab for his towel and exit the shower. The man was already gone from the shower stall and wasn’t evident in the locker room either. Jeff dried off and dressed and exited the locker room.
A hand grabbed him and pulled him around the corner to the back of the locker room, in a narrow space between the locker room wall and a boxwood hedge.
It was the man who had fondled Jeff in the locker room shower. He pulled Jeff to him and locked his lips on Jeff’s. He had an arm around Jeff’s waist, holding him in place, and his other hand went to Jeff’s crotch, squeezing Jeff’s cock through the material of his shorts. Jeff yielded to the man in the possessive kiss and moaned.
Again, voices were heard. The man released Jeff, muttered, “Later” again, and disappeared around the other side of the locker room.
Jeff held for a few minutes, calming himself down, reveling in the experience. He was scared, yes, but exhilarated as well and full of “finally” feelings. How to let the man know that he wasn’t put off, that he was still interested?
After pulling himself together, Jeff came back around the side of the locker room building. He slowly walked back to the pool, walking down the side of the pool that the men watchers gathered. The man--his man--was back on his lounge bed. He was wearing his Speedo, but as Jeff approached he could now see that front of the Speedo was tented. The man was still thinking about him and what they’d done. And the man was staring at him. Jeff sauntered by the men, turning his head at the last second to give “the man”--his man--a slight smile. At the end of the pool, he sauntered back and then toward the gate to the parking lot.
He sensed as much as saw that the man came off his lounge bed and was following him. Jeff walked out of the pool enclosure. He could see that his mom was parked in her car at the other end of the lot. She was in the driver’s seat and had been reading one of those Romance novels of hers while she waited for Jeff to be finished with his swim practice.
The man followed Jeff at a distance, but he stopped and knelt down to tie his shoe when he saw where Jeff was headed. He stood up as Jeff got in his mom’s car, and he was entering an old Mustang convertible as Jeff’s mom drove off. When they reached home, Jeff looked back to see that the Mustang had pulled over to the side of the street a block away.
He gave a little smile as he got out of his mom’s car and entered the house. He knew he should be frightened at the experience he’d had, but he was keyed up by it instead. He’d been dreaming of this and researching it with what Uncle Brad had in his apartment. He was sure of what he wanted.
He was asking for it.
There was a historical house on a hill overlooking the town, and it had a mile-long hiking trail up to it through a section of a national park area from the bottom, where there was a parking lot. Jeff had been let off in the parking lot by his mother. He was to walk up the trail and join his scout troop at a shelter up near the house that had a nature display in it. They were to write a report on something they saw at the display in order to complete a scout badge. It was summer, so he was wearing light-brown scout-uniform shorts, a T-shirt, and good sturdy running shoes.
It had been three days since the encounter with the man at the pool. Jeff hadn’t been back there since, but the encounter had not been far out of his mind ever since then. The man had followed them home; he knew where he lived, and Jeff expected something to happen. He was sure the man wanted him, and Jeff wanted it too. Just thinking about it now, as he walked into the woods and up the slope of the hill was giving him a raging hard on. He didn’t want to meet up with the other guys in this condition--with his dick pushing the crotch of his shorts out. Guys his age would quickly notice that happening to another guy, and they’d razz him about it.
About half way up the hill, he slipped off the trail and far enough into the woods that he couldn’t be seen from the trail. He leaned up against a tree, pulled his cock out over his waistband, and began stroking himself off. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the pool man’s lovely cock entering him and pumping him. Thanks to the various sizes of dildos Jeff had found in his uncle’s apartment and the videos he’d watched, Jeff had every reason to believe that he was prepared to take a man’s cock--even one the size the man had shown him in the shower--up his ass. He certainly wanted to give it a go.
But the image of being penetrated for real was a hazy one and had no tactile sensation to it, and Jeff was cooling off and going flaccid even as he beat himself off. His cock wasn’t keeping its hard on; this wasn’t giving him any relief or release. He thought he heard a sound nearby in the underbrush, and he quickly pushed his cock back inside his shorts and turned back to the trail. The frustration was absorbing him. He wanted to cross the edge, and there was a man out there who had shown every interest in taking him over the edge. Jeff wanted to experience being fucked by a man. He thought that was what his sexual preference would be, and even though he was only fourteen, he wanted to get on with it. The idea of being fucked by a man was driving him wild, but he was numb from having absolutely no actual experience in what males did with males.
Two-thirds of the way up the trail, Jeff heard a noise behind him and turned to see that there was a man in a khaki uniform and a wide-brimmed hat pacing his walk up the hill at some distance away from him. As Jeff turned, the ranger--as that seemed to be what he was, a park ranger--took his hat off and wiped his arm across his face and then put the hat back on. He was tall, thin, and sinewy looking, with powerful-looking arms. He had a buzz cut, and Jeff’s first impression was of a former Marine who kept up with his routine. Then Jeff realized who he was--he was the man from the pool. Jeff turned, trembling, and kept walking up the hill. In his mind, he had an appointment to keep. He’d fantasized about an encounter with this man like this, but now that it might be happening, Jeff was no longer sure of himself or about what might happen.
He was expected at the nature shelter. He was conflicted about what he wanted--what he should do. The man kept his pace gauged to Jeff’s, not catching up with him or dropping out of sight, and he was walking a distance behind Jeff when the boy reached the nature. The scout master and some other scouts were already there, and the scoutmaster was explaining the various exhibits. Jeff slipped in at the back of the group of boys listening to the scout master. His mind was racing to where the man in the khaki uniform was, though. Jeff saw the man move into the shelter. He caught Jeff’s eye and gave the boy a smile. Jeff involuntarily gave him a smile of recognition in turn.
And then the man was there, standing behind Jeff where he was standing behind the others, all of their faces forward, giving attention to the scoutmaster’s talk. Although Jeff’s heart was racing and he was trying to give his attention to the scoutmaster too--he’d have to know some of this to write his report for the scout badge--Jeff realized that someone was touching him. It wasn’t just that someone had brushed by him; someone had a hand firmly on one of Jeff’s butt cheeks and was definitely copping a feel. The boy instinctively pulled away and moved to another part of the group, no longer on the back row.
When he looked around, he saw that the man dressed like a park ranger--the guy from the pool--was watching him, not the scoutmaster. The man gave the boy another one of those smiles, and Jeff’s cheeks burned. He don’t know if it was because of what he was going through in this trying to grow into his sexual preference, but he hadn’t been repelled by the encounters--both at the pool and just now when the man squeezed his ass. Jeff had enjoyed it. But he was frustrated by not knowing where it might be headed, or how it might get there--or, Jeff suddenly was thinking, whether he was doing what he shouldn’t do with no return to normalcy if he did it.
Shortly thereafter the scouts found themselves in the dimly lit kitchen in the former slaves quarter area in the gardens away from the main house, where the scoutmaster was telling them about herbs and the various uses they had been put to in the time the historical house on the hill was in use. The boys were all packed pretty close together, and once again Jeff found myself on the back row, listening to the scoutmaster’s description of the herbs and how they fit into the rhythm of the plantation life.
The hand was on Jeff’s butt again. Having had time to calm down and adjust, he didn’t move away this time, even when the hand was squeezing his butt cheek in a rhythmic pattern. He moved one of his hands back there, covering the bigger hand of the man. He squeezed the hand, making no move to shove it away. He was giving the man permission to have his hand there.
Of course the man took the next step.
Pretty soon Jeff felt the hand come up and go under the waistband and squeeze the butt cheek, skin on skin. Jeff acquiesced to this as well, with a barely audible moan.
The hand moved over, centered on the small of Jeff’s back, and he felt a long, strong finger slowly pushing down through his crack. This surprised, but aroused, Jeff, and his knees began to tremble uncontrollably. He did move away this time, moving around the edge of the group and then swirling out of the kitchen door with them, into the sunlight, as the lecture ended.