Sixteen Again

Bill and I had been friends for several years. He was younger than I, seven years younger to be exact. But we got along better than most friends do. He knew I was gay, but he definitely wasn't. But it didn't matter to him that I was. It didn't really come up in our conversations. Things were cool.

He had a perfect youthful body — no hair, a chest with certain definition, clear skin and a boyish face that made me melt whenever he smiled. He was sixteen. I wished that I were too.

By todays standards, you could say he was a late bloomer. Let me explain.

Early one spring he invited me up to his parents cottage again - just the two of us. We had rented some movies to watch that night, and picked up the usual — a twenty sixer of rye, some cola and munchies. He was into drinking, you see. It was something new to him. And, yes, it was illegal. But these were the eighties, and kids are kids. Hell — I got a kick out of seeing him act like a fool.

The cottage was rustic; basically a clapboard type affair that had stood on the same spot for several hundred years. Well maybe not that long, but it sure seemed like it. It wasn't the kind of place you'd write home about, but it did keep us out of any bad weather. The inside was sparsely furnished. A couch and a couple of end tables. An old black and white television set that received a single channel. And a radio that strived hard to pick up signals from the nearest station. A few cheap oil painting reproductions hung on the wall, and the smell of must was everywhere.

We went outside and found a ladder leaning against the side of the cottage. The sun would be going down within the hour, so we thought we'd climb onto the roof and look out over the lake. It was beautiful. Cottages lined the other side of the lake, though there were few on this side. An old man, it is rumoured, owned the majority of land on this side of the lake, and when he died he had left the parcel to his pet cats. I hate cats. But at the same time if it hadn't been for them, we wouldn't have the serenity we have now. I don't know who that old man was, but I would have liked to pat him on the back and say thank you.

I remember a waterfall being directly across the lake from where the cottage stood. I hadn't been there in years, and we agreed that we'd hike there in the morning. It started from way up the side of the cliff at a dead lake, and flowed down past an old hermits cabin to the water below. And there were caves as well. Once I had crawled through an opening just large enough to fit my body through, and slid down into a larger cavern, right into a pile of rabbit excrement. Wildlife. Unsanitary wildlife. To this day I still can't look at a malt-ball.

We sat on the roof for what seemed like hours, talking about everything. Our previous visits to the cottage. His school. My job. Girls. Guys. And rabbits. Bill started to look a little tired, and turned to me.

"Let's get inside. I need a drink or I'll fall asleep."

"Good idea. Maybe if we're lucky the French channel will be playing a National Geographic special or something!"

We both laughed. National Geographic magazines are young peoples first venture into pornography. Not that it's meant to be that way, but perhaps it's just that they're a little more candid with their photography of mankind from different nations. Many a time, in my youth when I didn't have much control over that device between my legs, I had wondered how I would manage to keep it down if I were a naked amazon warrior clutching my spear for ornamentation. With all the other youthful Amazons around me, some more man than boy, I knew I would be hard pressed not to drop to my knees and beg to be fed.

I climbed down the ladder first, and Bill followed. I looked up as I approached the bottom rung and took a mental snapshot of that perfect jean-clad butt above me. I so wanted to grip those cheeks and feel them tense up. When I had reached the ground I swung to the underside of the ladder and held the rails to keep the ladder steady. Bill stopped about midway down the ladder and peered over his shoulder at a trio of trees not one hundred feet from the side of the cottage.

"Hey, our tree fort is still there!" Bill exclaimed with surprise. We had built that little affair several years ago and didn't expect it to last this long. The trees were very tall and swung violently everytime there was a windstorm. We thought that the main support beams would have been ripped from the tree's flesh long ago. But the crossmembers had held their place.

While Bill was examining the structure from his vantage point, I was examining the structure behind his zipper. He was obviously larger than most boys his age. I could see the contour of his elongated member as it pressed the fabric away from his body. When I made sure he wasn't looking, I placed my hand near his crotch to measure. It was at least as long as from the tip of my forefinger to the curve at the base of my thumb. And he wasn't even hard. I felt a tingling as my own penis jumped at the possibilities.

"We should check it out!" Bill said, and started to climb down. I concentrated on reversing the bloodflow to my penis.

"But it's too dark out here, Bill, we'll never be able to climb up there."

"Ya, but I can throw on the floodlights on the side of the cottage. It'll just be like day!" he said as he flipped the switch, illuminating the trees and forest beyond. "See! Let's go!" he said as he bounded for the planks we had nailed onto the trees as a sort of makeshift ladder. He was up there in no time.

"Oh! Grab the booze from the cottage will ya?" he said.

I made my way inside and stumbled on his duffle bag. The top was open and the sweatshirt he wore up here was hanging half out of the bag. I picked it up and put it to my nose. It was his scent. Through and through. I quickly pulled off my own shirt and donned his fleecy top, inhaling deeply as I pulled it over my head and down my torso. I had a hardon like never before, and without thinking, ran to the bathroom to jerk off.

I sat there pumping my meat and catching the odd whiff of his manly scent as my body pumped more and more heat between me and the fabric. I was lucid, and didn't think of the consequences of getting caught. For a moment, I was him. Pools of cum erupted from the tip of my member as it went into spasms. I was breathing heavily now and dug my nose into the armpit of the sweatshirt. The last gobs of cum shot out like a bullet from a revolver.

I cleaned up quickly, put his sweatshirt back as I had found it and put my own back on. After I grabbed the rye and cola, and a couple of cheap plastic glasses, I headed for the tree fort.

I was a little more cautious climbing the tree, and tested each step as I reached higher for the next plank. When I was almost to the top I heard a sound much like water running. Bill was taking a piss.

"Ha, ha!", he said, "It's pissin' rain!" and laughed like a madman. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, I, uh, had trouble finding the glasses. They fell in behind the sink pipe." I wondered if he would believe me.

"Get your ass up here!" he said as I crawled up over the ledge onto the floor of the fort and saw that he wasn't facing my direction. He finished pissing, tucked his tool into his underwear, and laid down beside me, his zipper still undone. He brought his hands back under his head, using them as a pillow. His white T-shirt jerked up a little to reveal his perfect little belly button. Hey, I was noticing everything.

I took the caps off the bottles and poured two stiff drinks. He may not have needed it, but I sure did. We started telling jokes for a while, and then scary stories. It was a very hot evening, odd for the spring, and we were both sweating. Sweating alcohol, I was sure. Neither of us were making any sense by this time. Anything was funny. Anything.

I woke up early the next morning — shortly after the sun came up. Felt terrible. I rolled over and noticed that Bill wasn't there. I didn't hear him get up at all, mind you nothing could have woken this slobbering giant. I was still reeling from the effects of the alcohol consumed the night before. I let out a quiet grunt as I heaved my near paralysed body up on the two posts that were my arms. I squinted as my eyes peered over the window sill, catching the suns rays square in the retina.

And there he was. Leaning against the ladder.


Pantless. The only thing between his gigantic crotch and the air of this planet was his jockstrap. He had shoved his hand deep within its bowels, fondling his tool and admiring its beauty.

I gasped in awe and fell back down on the floor. I winced as I realized that maybe he would have heard me and ran for cover. I wanted to see more. And so I remained motionless for just a moment, listening intently to see if he had moved. Nothing. I was wide awake at this point. God — this is just what I was waiting for. What to do. What to do.

Slowly I propped myself up again, bumping my head sharply on something above me.

"Fuck!" I whispered. I looked up to discover a pair of binoculars. How convenient. I released them from the hook that was holding them and wiped the lenses with the bottom of my shirt. I rested them on the sill and brought my eyes towards them, adjusting the focus for the sharpest view.

I noticed that he had dispensed with the jock strap. It lay in a crumpled heap on the dirt below him. He was still stroking himself slowly. I adjusted the focus and zoomed in on that which had captured his attention — his penis.

I could see him stretching it, pulling on the head, elongating it as he allowed more and more blood to engorge the shaft. Saliva dripped from the corner of my mouth.

For the first time I was able to get a good look at him naked. A small patch of curly brown pubic hair surrounded his otherwise hairless balls, and rose, growing more sparse, to his navel. He was twisting the shaft left and right, trying to pump it up — full volume. His balls shuddered with every stroke and bounced forward slightly, only to bounce back and slam into the insides of his legs. The sun illuminated his hairless body and revealed the contours of his youthful muscles, casting them in a bright white light. I was mesmerized.

Just then, he started to walk towards the tree that I had perched in, his penis bobbing up and down with each saunter. I lowered myself back to the floor and pretended to sleep.

He made it up the tree faster than I had predicted and dropped his perfect body next to mine, quietly. I could feel the heat emanating from his pores as he had worked himself below. Then it occurred to me. I hadn't hung the binoculars up where I had found them. They must be lying next to me. Would he notice?

I rolled over onto my back, smacking my lips as if in some delectable dream. My eyes were closed. I swear that if this had been a scene in a movie, I would have won an Emmy for my ability to act asleep. No clues from him to make me think he knew otherwise.

Then I felt something on the right side of my hip. He was gently rubbing his tool against my skin! Slowly writhing up and down amidst my midhip. Every now and then I would feel a gentle prod as his tool contracted and the head pressed into my skin. Occasionally, too, his shaft would slip up over my hip onto my stomach. My own manmeat was doing a cockdance of its own, but thankfully it was entirely contained in the strong jean material in my pants. My fly was undone, though I predicted that the flap still covered my engorged member. As much as I would have liked him to touch me, I had to play this thing out.

Pre-cum suddenly lurched from the tip of his cock, spilling out onto my hip. His back and forth motion picked up, and the feel of the length of his shaft riding on the glistening strip of cum was extraordinary. It was heating up. And so was I.

Bill made small gasping noises which became louder as he rode my hip. I don't think he was aware of his actions anymore. As his pole flipped onto my stomach again, he let out a fairly loud grunt as he covered my stomach with his juice. Spurts landed on various parts of my lower torso, some becoming entrapped within the hair leading to my own belly button. He was still writhing with ecstasy, dropping more and more manseed onto my skin. Then he grabbed his shaft with his hand and squeezed the last droplets out, wiping its head along my side.

With that, he got up and climbed back down to ground level.

I rammed my pants down to my knees and shoved my own tool into my fist just in time to explode all over myself. I shot like I hadn't done in years. I was covered in semen from the neck down. When the feeling subsided I released the breath I had been holding and laid there, relaxed, mixing our warm love liquid together with my fingers. In a small sense, at this moment, we were as one.

Minutes later I cleaned myself off with an old rag that lay in one corner, and made my way down to the cottage.

"Morning!" I said as I entered the kitchen. Bill was busily cooking up breakfast.

"Morning!" he said, smiling. "Looks like you had a good dream last night ..." he commented, almost slyly.

"What do you mean?" I questioned, trying to figure out where this was going to lead.

"Well ..." he paused, obviously in thought. "I woke up and looked at you, and you were covered with ..."

"What?" I said. So this was his story. Brilliant, for a kid, I thought. Completely turn the thing around so as to make me think that it was me who had had a wet dream or something.

"You know ..." he said with a smile.

"Oh." I said, and turned around — grinning.

Before long we were in the small boat, crossing the lake towards the waterfall I had so yearned to see. We were both quiet. I was reflecting on what had happened earlier in the morning, and I suspect he was doing the same. Surely I would be able to have him. I just had to figure out a way.

The boat bumped the shore with a thud, waking the both of us up from our respective daydreams. Bill jumped out and tied the boat to a large stump just out of the waterline. Then he bounded up the very steep slope alongside the waterfall.

"Wait up!" I shouted as I stood up to cross the boat to the shore, nearly losing my balance several times.

"Come and find me!" Bill yelled back to me as he raced out of site.

I checked the knot he had tied, just to make sure that the boat wasn't going anywhere. Then I started up the hill. The soft earth and blanket of pine needles had been dishevelled with Bills footprints. With each step I took, earth tumbled down the hill below me. I heard the breaking of sticks up ahead, but couldn't see my friend for the dark shadows cast by the dense bush around me.

"Bill!" I shouted, perking up my ears for an answer. None came. This is another of his little games, I thought to myself. Could I be too old for games? Not a chance. At least, I wasn't about to let him know.

Near the top of the falls, I came to a large boulder that seemed impossible to traverse. This was my only opportunity to get to the other side, so I had to take it. I found a small crevice cut into the side of the rock, so I placed my right hand into it and pulled myself up. With my other hand, I reached higher and towards the left, finding another hand hold to grab onto. I was near completing this mission, when I placed my right arm up over the boulder. My hand slipped on some moss that had grown on the other side, and I fell backwards, away from the boulder.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeellllppppp!" I screamed as I fell, splashing down rudely smack in the middle of a little rock pool within the falls.

"Shit!" I said to myself. "Now look what you've done." I was soaked, and more than a little unhappy. There I was, standing as forlorn as a lost puppy, in the middle of a pool, in the middle of nowhere. Drenched. I started to strip. I reasoned that the rocks were warm enough to dry off my clothes a little, and it would probably be a while before I found Bill. He was that adventurous. My cock started to rise, too. I guess it was a little enticing being a "nudist" for a while.

Carefully, I placed my clothes along the rocks that were bathed in sunlight. Steam started to rise from them almost immediately.

I made my way towards the falls which kept this pool full, and stood beneath it. Heavy water splashed onto my head and hurt my hard dick as it fell with intense speed. I washed myself with my hands and climbed onto a huge flat partially shaded rock above me. I dropped down and laid on my back to soak up the sun and tan. This was the life. Just me and nature. Oh, and of course Bill, but he was nowhere in sight.

As I drifted into sleep, I could feel that my cock was still rising to the occasion. My last thought was that the water must have frozen it clean through.

I must have slept for a couple of hours, because when I woke up, my skin was as bright red as the lipstick on your basic hooker. And it stung. I looked around for any sight of Bill, flipped onto my stomach, and drifted into sleep again.

I woke with a start as I thought I had heard a roar, much like that which would come from an angry bear. I knew there were bears around here, but had forgot to warn Bill to stay away from them. They would have their young with them now, and any advance upon them would provoke terror in them. Instinct would take over and they would attack. Perhaps all of this was moot, though. It may have just been a dream.

I decided to investigate anyways.

Still naked, I stood up and looked around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. So I ventured into the trees to my left . It wasn't long until I noticed a figure in the distance. A white figure standing in a clearing. I crept closer, trying to be quiet for fear it was anyone other than Bill. Hell, I didn't want to be caught like this with Bill either. Too embarrassing. When I got to edge of the clearing I crouched down and peered out from behind a thick shrub. It was Bill in all his glory.

There he was, pumping his meat with all of Mother Nature looking on. And me. I got hard immediately, and began stroking myself.

"You can come out now." said Bill.

"Who are you talking to?" I questioned, really not thinking before I said it. I started to shudder with excitement.

"You — you stupid dink!" he retorted. "Who else did ya think I'd be talking to out in the middle of nowhere!"

With that, I stood up and walked around the shrubbery and stood before him. He was looking down at his own sex organ and rubbing the head with his thumb. He looked up at me, starting with my eyes, and slowly lowered them, stopping his gaze to look at my hardening nipples, and then down to my erect penis.

"You look good!" he remarked.

"Thanks." I responded, toying with my cock with the opposite hand I normally use. "I want to fuck you."

Bill laughed. "You want to fuck me?"

"Ya, I want to suck your hard cock. I want you to come all over my face." Bill continued laughing. "I want to feel your lips around my cock."

We were both pumping hell out of our meat now. Bill turned and stepped towards me. I dropped to me knees and engulfed his balls with my mouth, tugging down gently on them. The soft patch of young pubic hair tickled my tongue. The smell was musty, reminiscent of the cottage. His shaft arched alongside my nose. He was pumping up and down, fucking my nose broadside.

I brought my hands around and squeezed his buttocks — how I had longed to do that. I felt their curvature, their smoothness. After releasing his testicles from my mouth, he shoved his huge dick down my throat in one fell swoop. I nearly gagged with the force, but began rocking forward and back, feeling the tip slide down my oesophagus, and back out along my tongue. My right hand grabbed his balls and tugged downward. I pulled the skin away from the orbs inside, then stroked midway between them.

"Suck me! Suck me!" he began to shout, pumping me harder.

I reached underneath him and rammed my thumb into his butthole.

"Oooooooooh ..." he squealed with pleasure. I wriggled it around a bit, feeling his sphincter contract around it. I was beating myself with my free hand.

Suddenly he dropped down and laid on his back, motioning with his raised arms for me to go down on him. I turned around and got into sixty-nine position. I guided my thick nine inches between his lips and felt the pressure as he sucked. I then proceeded to lick his navel and the hair below it, slowly making my way down alongside each ball, gently teasing it with a lash of my tongue, and a slight nibble as I tugged on the skin. I began pumping my butt up and down, fucking his throat for all it was worth. I took his member into my mouth again and he raised up a little and jerked it in and out of my mouth.

We came at the same time. I felt the swell as gushes of hot cum filled my mouth. I was filling his with my own, and he was lapping it up like a cat laps milk. I swallowed and kept up with the flow, slurping every drop and poking my tongue into his pee hole to get the rest.

When all was done I spun around on his chest, facing him. We kissed long, our tongues intertwining with each other, and our nipples rubbing together.



"You know, I was awake the whole time this morning."

"Ya, I know. You don't think I'd fuck somebody who was asleep, do you?"

"You wouldn't?"

SIXTEEN AGAIN is Copyright © 1992 by NFink ( Posted to the Usenet news group (et. al.) as message-ID <>. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead or events past or future is purely coincidental.