Sam's Tale

Part 2

Everyone liked the story of the first time I dared to check out Paul while he was asleep. So, here's the next time.
We're going to tell the stories of the times I got away with it, and then the time I told him about it, what he said, and what happened.
Hope you enjoy these as much! Thanks for writing to tell us so! Ray forwards the replies, so if you want to let me know you liked the stories I'll read them. I'll let Ray handle the replies though.

I woke up when Paul's ten-year-old little brother came storming in, yelling about wanting to ride to the arcade. I sat up, groaning, and wanting to pound the little brat into a bloody pulp. It was nine o'clock, for crying out loud!

James hopped onto Paul's bed, almost screaming, "Come on, Paul! Mom and Dad say you have to ride with me to the arcade! Come on! Wake up!"

Paul mumbled a bit and rolled over.

"Come on!" James whined. "I wanna go before it gets busy and I have to wait to play the good games!"

"Go away," Paul mumbled.

"No! Mom said to ride with me! Come on!"

Paul sat up slowly, glaring at James like he wanted to crumple him into a ball and kick him across the room.

"Can I get breakfast first?" Paul asked, not really asking.

"Hurry up!" James cried, but at least he tore out of the room.

"I hate having a brother," Paul grumbled.

"Pain in the ass," I agreed.

"Yeah."

Paul wiped his eyes and stretched. The short black hairs under his arms were so fascinating and sexy. His bare chest was smooth, and his pink nipples were like little candies.

The memories of what I'd done last night came up. So did my morning wood. I couldn't help feeling guilty about it. It was easily the hottest thing I'd ever experienced, but now it seemed wrong. Was it molesting him? Was it just a bit of fun? Did it mean I was sick? Was it no big deal? I didn't know. And it sure bothered me.

But the two times I'd jerked off right after doing that had been really intense! The best orgasms I'd had so far by far.

We both sort of just sat there a bit. I knew I wasn't going to get up, because he'd see my wood. I needed to pee, and bad, but I wasn't going to until he either laid back down or went to the bathroom first so I could have time to get mine to go down, or adjust it so it wasn't visible.

We sat there and it seemed awkward. I started to worry that maybe he'd been awake and knew what I'd done to him. I noticed he was blushing. When I saw that, I just sort of knew he had morning wood too, and was waiting for his to go down, or for me to go use the bathroom or something so he could hide it before I saw it.

It was easier for me to get up and face away from him, so I did. My dick was so hard it almost hurt. I jerked my shirt all the way down, trying to hide it in case his parents or his little brother came down the hallway. I got to the bathroom without anyone using the hallway. I couldn't pee with that thing throbbing though. I had to beat it off really quickly. Thankfully, it was willing to make it quick. Then I got to pee, and went back to his room.

He was holding clean clothes in front of himself as I walked into his room. We gave each other a grin and a nod, then he went and showered. I was really relieved to be alone for a bit. I had to think about what I'd done last night.

I was glad I'd done it, but I was ashamed of having done it, too. I'd wanted to do something with someone for over a year, but what I did was possibly very wrong. I didn't think Paul would be very happy about it at all.

I didn't like thinking about being gay. I didn't want to be gay. But I was sure I was. I mean, straight guys don't even want to see their friends' junk, let alone want to play with it. And they sure don't do what I did last night.

I was still wondering if what I'd done was no big deal, something bad, or something really awful, when Paul came back from his shower.

The bastard wasn't wearing a shirt, and was wearing the tan cargo shorts that were a little tight, and that made his butt look round and tempting, and that cupped and showed off his package. He has a couple extra pounds, but nothing that makes for a soft belly or anything. He just isn't skinny is all. His long, smooth legs poked out of the bottom of the short's short legs, just a tiny hint that he has black hairs on them. His black, straight hair was all damp and messed. His skin was all pink from the hot water and toweling off. Son-of-a-bitch! So fucking hot!

Have I mentioned how blue and sparkly his eyes are? Like jewels. He has black, fine, smooth eyebrows, and they arch over his eyes just perfectly. His nose is straight and long, and it ends in this cute little, rounded tip. He has really red lips, the top one fairly thin, the lower one sort of thick and pouty. He has dimples when he smiles. And a round, strong chin.

I don't know if my perfect guy image was shaped by knowing him, or if he was just similar to the image of my perfect guy by chance, but he sure was my image of the perfect guy.

So I worked to not blow a full boner as he got a shirt out of his dresser, but his butt in those cargo shorts was... I don't even know if I there's a word for it. The best word I can think of is... YUM!

We got cereal and then went to the arcade. Spent a few bucks, had some pizza for lunch, ran into Mark, Josh, and Kevin and hung out with them for a while. About five, the three of us went back to their house. We watched some movies, played some video games, fucked around the whole day. His little brother went to his friend's place and we had some peace and quiet for a while. We went to my place for dinner and to stay the night.

We switched houses all summer - his place then mine, back and forth. Sometimes we stayed over at Mike's or Brent's, and sometimes one or both of them stayed over with us at one of our places. But mostly it was just the two of us. I guess that's the way it is with best friends.

We watched some television, screwed around on my computer, and stayed up late.

I was already wondering if I should try to do that to him again. I wanted to, and I didn't. I decided not to. It was too risky. If he woke up and caught me, I'd be dead. Our friendship would be, anyway.

So we stayed up way late again. This time he was on his sleeping bag on the floor and I was in my bed. We used to sleep in the bed with each other, but ever since we'd gotten pubes and started the puberty thing, we'd started keeping a sleeping bag at each other's house. Why we didn't use each other's sleeping bag, and keep our own at our own houses, we never figured out.

About three o'clock, we were playing my video game and doing really badly, laughing at how badly we were doing. My sides hurt from laughing so much. We'd both taken off our shirts and socks, and I was in cut-off sweatpants, he was in those incredible cargo shorts. I can't even tell you how hot it was to see him in those, sitting next to me, his package all plump and bulgy. Cripes!

"Man, I can't keep going," he said, laying down the controller, still giggling.

He was so cute when he laughed. His dimples showed up, and his smile was so adorable.

"Yeah, guess we should crash."

I flipped off the system as he crawled over to the sleeping bag. His ass as he crawled away... oh, my, God. Maybe I was just especially horny. I doubt it, though. His ass, and those shorts... just... God!

I crawled up onto my bed and flopped down on my front. He got up and turned off the lights. We talked and laughed about the game and how badly we'd done the last couple of hours. It was so much fun. Not just the game, but talking about it in the dark, too.

I had my hand in my jeans, playing with a hot boner. I wanted to beat it off right then and there, but not while he was awake. No way. I wondered if he was doing and thinking the same thing. The idea of his hand down those cargo shorts, playing with the boner I'd touched, kissed, and sort of sucked last night... wow! I probably could have shot off without beating it if I just toyed with it harder. But it was too embarrassing. So I just held onto it as we talked.

Soon we weren't talking much at all, more just yawning, and not long after that, he was quiet. I was almost shaking with horniness. I couldn't have slept if I had to. I wanted to just go to sleep, and not lay there and think about sneaking down there and checking him out again.

I laid there for what seemed like an hour. I rolled over and over. I tried to go to sleep, mostly so that I would sneak down there and...

Damn it! It was frustrating! I didn't want to do it. I really didn't. But I wasn't falling asleep.

I rolled over and turned on the little light by my bed. He was on his back, arms behind his head, the way he always slept. He never had to roll over and over, never needed to find a comfortable position. He just stretched out with his head on his hands and closed his eyes. Lucky bastard. Lucky me, too.

He was so cute anyway, but asleep, he was incredible. The short hairs under his arms were like the stubble on my dad's cheeks and chin at night. His thick, black lashes really stood out against his pale complexion with his eyes closed. So did his red, juicy lips. And his pink nipples. And the way his package was all plump as he lay there... oh, God. And his smooth, lean, pale legs.

My dick begged me to crawl out of my bed and down there, and slip my hand over his groin. I sighed. I lay back and shoved my hand down my jeans and held onto my pecker and tried to resist. I stayed there motionless for a long, long, long time.

Four-twenty. I knew the stoners at school thought it was some special time. For me, it was when I couldn't stand it anymore.

I rolled onto my side and looked at him. He sighed a little, and stretched a little. I looked down to see his boner pushing up against those slightly-tight, tan cargo shorts.

Oh, God.

His smooth stomach rose and fell.

My heart hammered.

My boner begged.

I sat up.  I looked down at him. I sighed. He sighed a bit. His mouth was open just a bit. His boner was pushing up against those slightly-tight shorts. Those shorts had a slip-catch. No button, no snap. A simple, easy, sliding catch. And they were old, so the zipper was probably loose and easy. I'd noticed as we rode our bikes that he was wearing blue briefs. He had only started wearing colored underwear very lately, so they were probably large, and probably wouldn't be hard to get my hand inside of.

"Paul?" I whispered.

No movement, no change in his breathing, not a twitch.

"Hey. Paul," at conversational level.

Nothing.

My guts shivered and my body shook.

"Paul. Wake up, or I'm gonna put my hand in your pants."

I knew I couldn't wake him up that way. His brother and I, and me and other friends, had played video games and talked and laughed while Paul slept many times. We even had drawn on his face once. Once, his brother had drawn all over his chest, belly, and arms. I'd watched and laughed, after agreeing to tell him I'd been asleep too. Not long ago, we'd stayed over at Brad's place, and Brad had pulled Paul's hands out from under his head and tied them together with the belt from his bathrobe. Paul'd freaked out when he woke up the next morning. We cracked up for days over it, threating to roll him over and bust his brown cherry some night.

"Paul. Please wake up."

Louder than a normal talking voice, but not nearly loud enough to stir him, I was sure.

I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to wake up or not. I didn't even know what I'd tell him if he did wake up. So I must have been sure I wasn't really going to. I knew he was asleep. He always fell asleep so easily. And he always slept so deeply.

I got onto the floor on my knees, walked over on them, and sat there looking down at him. His face was so sweet, and his body was so smooth, and his package was so tempting.