He just looked me in the eye with his mischievous glare.
*
Micheal could pick me up. It was a fact he was proud of, because all our other friends were far too heavy for him, and he demonstrated it regularly. I could remember all the times I had held me breath and prayed that my dick wouldn't give me away as his arms snaked round my waist, but this time I could exhale freely. He picked me up in one slick movement, but it wasn't a romantic, Romeo-esque gesture. His hands went to my hips, he looked into my eyes cheekily, and slung me over his shoulder. I laughed, and the shake disturbed one of his hands, which he discovered he now didn't need to support me with, now that I was on his broad shoulders. He put it to good use, resting it on the entrance to my arse.
His house was old, Victorian, probably, and we had about three staircases to climb to get to his room. Halfway up the first staircase, I felt that the repetitive movement could be put to some use, and positioned my dick into Micheal's armpit. As he thundered up the stairs, my erection grew as he wanked me off. Micheal obviously felt me next to his body, and made a point of holding me looser and flinging me harder to increase my strokes. I was fully erect by the time he laid me down on his bed. He disappeared into the bathroom next door, and I got a chance to survey his room. It was a tip- old rock magazines littered the floor, whilst beer bottles rolled across the floor as I threw the duvet off his bed, to reveal the empty condom packets hidden within its folds. It was a rare night that Micheal slept alone, I mused. Or slept at all. I knew, without a doubt, however, that the condom that he was fetching from his stash behind the toilet was the first he would ever have used on a boy.
Micheal re-entered. The light had been off in the room before now, but as he shut the door, all that was left was the moonlight streaming in through the large window. The room was filled with a soft, blue colour, and the edges of the room seemed to become distant. It put everything which was about to happen into perspective, and any doubts that I had about sleeping with Micheal were put to rest. He lay down next to me, and pulled the tee-shirt over his head. He lay, silhouetted by the light through the window, breathing heavily, but making no move. Held against the waistband of his freshly donned boxers (he had retrieved them from downstairs whilst I had examined his room) was a bottle of what I hoped was lube, and a condom packet. I lay there, looking at him, as he lay facing the ceiling. I decided that he wanted me to make the first move. I lay one hand weightlessly on his stomach, my middle finger just twitching the elastic of his pants. He made a move as if to become more settled, pushing his waist upwards. I applied the same pressure downwards with my hand, and slid over the condom and into his pants, the lube bottle lying between my thumb and forefinger. I felt the tangled, wiry mesh of his pubes, and felt within them, but not so as to feel his dick. When my fingers strayed onto his hairless belly, I felt the spasms within him, and I felt that it was time. I withdrew my hand, taking the lube and the condom with an easy motion. Micheal still lay there.
I flipped my leg over him, so I sat straddling him. He moved his gaze to look into my eyes, and the intensity of it nearly made me look away, but I resisted. By the feel of cotton on my naked arse, he enjoyed it. I let my hand cup his cheek, and I realised that, while he might have taken the lead downstairs, playing the predator, up here he wanted to be treated. I lowered myself sensuously, kissing him slowly, letting the threads of dry saliva and beer hold our lips together for a brief moment before we parted. He made no move to wrestle me with his tongue as before, so I slipped mine in, and explored all around his mouth, his cheek cavities, and his tongue, all with the slight taste of me still lingering there. We were still gazing into each others eyes. I withdrew, and stuck my tongue out at him. He complied, and stuck out his tongue to its full extent. I lowered down again, and took it in my mouth like I had his penis, and began to blow it, arching my neck up and down, licking the underside of it, while gently sucking the taste of his saliva off it. I heard a strangled sound, as Micheal tried to moan without his tongue, but I felt his please more than I heard it. I decided to move on to the real thing. I slid myself down his body, my tongue now searching in and out of the places that I had fantasised about- his nipples, his treasure trail. I detoured to his armpit, and licked away what remained of my pre-cum, and his sweat. I reached his penis. I slid his boxers down, but not off, and buried myself in his balls, his penis sliding around my face as I took both of them in my mouth. I could feel, with my tongue, the individual hairs around his sack as I worked my way round. I released, and his balls contracted, the moisture cooling them, sucking them up towards his dick. Earlier, I had been too rushed to do what I'd wanted with it, but that was to be different now.
