Showing Danny The Ropes
But with the editors’ indulgence I’d like to try my hand at a story – this one, for instance. I’m calling it “Showing Danny the Ropes.” Parts of it are true, but the vast majority is fabricated. For your information, Danny had just turned 18, so I had no concerns about violating the law or my personal code of ethics.
I’ve known Danny’s grandparents, Gary and Marta, since the mid-’90s. We met at a local lounge that was known for its karaoke, not that any of us could sing. But we enjoyed hanging out together and soon our bad singing led to barbecues and dinners at Denny’s and Christmas presents being exchanged.
When I met them, Gary and Marta had three kids. They were Marta’s children from a previous marriage – a girl who had since moved out, another girl, Janet, and a , Ryan. The two remaining kids were teenagers and would sometimes drop by the lounge to sponge money off Marta. The first time I saw Ryan my eyes nearly popped out of the sockets. He was a good-looking, tousle-haired boy with freckles. Unfortunately, he was also an insufferable braggart and smartass. I couldn’t stand the bullshit coming out of his mouth.
Years passed and the kids grew up. Janet married, had a couple of boys, then got a divorce. Good-looking kids, those boys. But they’re serious rednecks – they got that from their dad.
Ryan met Angie, a pale little anorexic girl who would never say no, and his life was set. They got married and had a couple of kids. He joined the , and they toured the country from one shithole post to another. Years later his mouth got him in trouble with his superiors and Ryan was re-introduced to the world of civilian life.
So there he was – no job, no skills to speak of, and with a wife and two teenagers to support. Deanna was the youngest, a decent young girl who you hoped would escape the miserable circumstances of her life and become something.
Then there was Danny.
Last time I saw Danny, he was a little kid who couldn’t stop talking. Even his grandparents were constantly telling him to be quiet, because the kid’s mouth ran non-stop. Now at age 18, Danny had grown up. He was about two feet taller but had not added much weight, so he was trim, with that almost concave stomach with which young men are blessed. When he raised his arms you could see a dense thatch of hair under his arms. I could imagine what was growing in his crotch.
They arrived back in town when Ryan couldn’t find a job living with his biological father up in Montana. The took up residence at Gary and Marta’s place, which put a strain on both families as there were only two bedrooms, and Gary and Marta used one. The kids had to sleep on the couch or an air mattress in the living room, hardly a pleasant arrangement, especially for two near-adults of the opposite gender.
Ryan and Angie both found jobs – Ryan as a “landscaper” i.e., a guy who mowed yards, and Angie as a cashier at Walmart. They bought a beat-up old Toyota and found a three-bedroom house. But when the move-in date was delayed a week by inspection issues, Marta nearly suffered a nervous breakdown. She had had a belly full of cramped living conditions, smart lucky kids and Ryan’s obnoxious attitude. She wanted them out – NOW.
Ryan and Angie ended up spending a few days in a tent in the back yard of their new place. Deanna had a friend from school whose parents took her in.
Danny ended up with me.
Now, I had no intention of trying anything with Danny. But he was a , and gazing into the future I could see an even hotter adult emerging from this late teen cocoon. He had a habit of parading around the house in his boxers and nothing else. Many an occasion I found myself gazing up the legs of those shorts, hoping for a glimpse of what lay beneath. A couple of times I was rewarded with a thicket of brown pubic hair and a glimpse of pink flesh.
For 18, Danny was amazingly ignorant about sex. I didn’t think that was possible these days, what with the internet, but then I remembered his family seldom had access to the web because they were always short on cash and couldn’t afford it. Even more surprising, he apparently had never experienced a sexual encounter with anyone else, man or woman. I didn’t think such people existed.
That ignorance manifested itself one afternoon in my home office. I was sitting in front of the computer doing something – I can’t remember what – and he was standing beside me talking about their new house, and the fact that he would finally have his own bedroom.
I said, “Yeah, you can stay in bed jerking off all day if you want to,” and laughed.
He looked at me, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“You know. Jerking off. Wanking. Beating your meat. Whatever you guys call it these days.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I turned and looked at him. The shock must have been evident because he sort of shrugged in irritation. I said, “You mean you don’t know anything about masturbation? I find that a little hard to believe for a guy your age.”
“Well … I’ve heard the word but I don’t know what it means.”
I had a pretty sizeable collection of porn videos on my computer, mostly clips downloaded from tumblr pages. I sort them by subject. I found the “masturbation” folder and double-clicked on a clip.
Danny covered his eyes … but then spread his fingers for a peek. The guy on screen was sitting in front of his webcam, yanking on his large . Every now and then he’d throw back his head and let loose with a moan. I guess it was meant to sound seductive but his efforts were more comical than anything else. He’d obviously been watching too many porn videos himself. Danny uncovered his eyes and leaned closer to the monitor.
“What the hell is he doing? Why is he doing that?”
“It feels great,” I told him. “You should try it. Do it long enough and you’ll cum.”
He nodded, but it was a gesture of futility. “I don’t know what that is either.”
“Cum is sperm. It comes out of your balls and shoots out of your dick, where you pee. It’s what makes a woman pregnant. Haven’t you ever had a wet dream?”
He was blank. “Wet dream?”
“You know, where you wake up in the morning and there’s this sticky white stuff in your boxers.”
He seemed to ponder this. “Hmmm. Maybe.”
At that point the guy on the started moaning faster. Jets of milky white liquid shot from his penis, hitting him in the face. He opened his mouth and more jets of jizz struck his lips and tongue.
“Ewww,” Danny grimaced. “How can he let that get into his mouth?”
“It’s pretty tasty,” I said lightly. I clicked off that video and opened the blowjob folder. There, I opened another clip. A middle-aged man was chowing down on a young guy’s cock. The guy was wearing a hoodie and a Tennessee Titans ballcap. “That’s called a blowjob,” I told Danny, pointing at the screen. “It’s one kind of fun to give a blowjob, and another kind of fun to receive one.”
Danny leaned even closer to the monitor. “But those are two guys,” he said.
I nodded. “Yup. Guys often suck off other guys. They just don’t talk about it. They don’t want people thinking they’re gay, but the truth is almost all guys like receiving blowjobs, and quite a few guys like giving them. Nothing wrong with that.”
I noticed his cheap Walmart cargo shorts were bulging in the crotch. And I noticed an odor, a heavy, musky essence that grew stronger as I leaned closer.
I don’t know why I did this but I reached up with my right hand and used my index finger to very lightly rub that bulge at the front of his cargoes. He continued watching the screen, intent on what was going on there, so I pressed against the bulge and was rewarded with firmness. I could hear his breathing; it seemed louder and maybe a little uneven. I know I was struggling to breathe.
I used both hands to unbutton his cargoes. I hooked my thumbs through the waistband and pulled the shorts, and his boxers, slowly to the floor. His dick popped out. So did my eyes.
It was long and slim, about 6 inches, with a small helmet and a shaft frescoed with a delicate tracery of veins. His balls were snug up against his cock as if he were already set to shoot. Both cock and balls sprang from a nest of light brown pubic hair.
I ran my right hand up his leg and butt cheek, pulling him toward me as I leaned in and took his cock down my throat. He had not showered since yesterday and his dick had a distinctive taste, salty and something else, maybe the equivalent of the musk I was smelling. It dragged along the roof of my mouth and found my throat. His balls were snug up against my chin. I used both hands to cup his and began massaging the cheeks as I slid up and down on his cock.
I know this was involuntary on his part, but his hand found the back of my head and he began thrusting into me.
This went on for another 30 seconds or so until he began whimpering, and then shot after shot of sweet, watery cum filled my mouth. I swallowed every drop, keeping his dick within the moist confines of my lips. He cried out as he pressed his crotch hard against my face, and I could feel the muscles in his ass straining.
Finally he began to relax. He started to pull away but I kept him close. I knew a guy his age would have more gas in the tank, and I had other lessons I wanted to teach him.
I finally pulled my mouth away from his cock and told him to lie down on the floor. His dick stood up like a flagpole. I gave it a couple of licks and then, straddling him. I pulled down the backside of my shorts and squatted over his erect penis, then guided it to my hole. There was no way he was getting out of my house without fucking me.
I slowly lowered myself on his pole and did not stop until he was balls-deep inside me. I looked into his eyes and he was staring at the ceiling, as if he were focused entirely on the sensations spreading along his shaft. I reached down between his legs and, using my middle finger, found his crack and began exploring it until my fingertip settled on his asshole. I began rubbing it as I gyrated on his cock, not up and down like you see in all the porn videos, but back and forth, working it with my sphincter muscles.
The more I did this the more he pushed back with his pelvis, trying to thrust his cock deeper into me. His hole began to open slightly and I pressed against it, allowing my fingertip to enter his warmth. That’s an understatement, really, because inside his colon the heat was amazing.
We did this for the next two or three minutes and my finger slid up his ass until I was up past the second knuckle. I could feel his muscles reacting to my movements, and his cock probing the confines of my colon. The tension in me was rising and when he suddenly raised his ass off the floor, his anus locking onto my finger. His slender rod sprayed the inside of my colon with another dose of watery cum. I felt the individual jets of semen as he filled me up, and the sensations and smells and sounds of his moaning sent me over some tipping point – I couldn’t stop myself and shot a load of gooey, creamy spunk all over his stomach.
My breath came out in tremulous gasps as I rode the backside of my orgasm down to . This boy had given me an amazing experience, and based on the look of pure bliss on his face, it seemed I had done the same for him.
We sat like that another minute and then I got up, licked my cum off his stomach, and went to the bathroom to wash my hands and wipe my ass. When I got back he had pulled up his boxers and cargoes.
“So,” I said. “Is there anything else about sex you’d like me to show you?”
He gave me an embarrassed grin and answered, “How much more can you show me in three days before we move in to our new house?”
I smiled. “A lot, Danny. A lot.”
We all get to sleep...
- Locker Room
- Jack Off
- Teen Boy