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This story takes place during the Winter of 1970.


I suppose I should have felt guilty given the things that were going through my mind as I looked at my young guest sitting next to me on the couch, staring at the pornographic magazine in open-mouthed wonder, but I didn’t.

Young Preston Phillips III was the young fellow who, along with his mother had lived next door to me for the last ten years or so. The lad in question was hypnotized by the graphic photos of the men and women in the pictures. I was amused by the way he was trying hard to not let me see how interested he was in the other magazines on the coffee table, the ones that didn’t have women in them.

Preston was gay, although I doubted his mother knew it. She was too occupied with her own life, and since her husband had moved out seemed determined to do as little mothering as possible. Recently she had been sending Preston to some high class prep school, on her ex-husband’s dime no doubt, so she could fuck every swinging dick within reach and not have to worry about her kid catching her.

That was probably a good thing too, because having this little cutie next door all the time would be way too tempting for a horny old guy like me. This boy – or should I say man, because somehow in testimony to how time seems to fly when you get older, the kid had somehow become 18. Preston also happened to be the sweetest little twink I had ever seen.

He was the spitting image of the actor that played Dennis the Menace on that television show, cowlick and all. Naturally blonde hair and a dimple on the chin, Preston probably didn’t pack more than 125 pounds on what looked to be no more than a 5’6″ frame. He was adorable, and the fact that he was an adult, at least chronologically, made my thoughts legal even if they were naughty.

Preston had come over here to help me clean out the cellar, and it was his mother that had offered her son’s services to me, after I inquired whether she knew of anybody in the neighborhood interested in doing some odd jobs.

“My Preston will be home for the holidays next week,” his old lady informed me, and she seemed exceptionally delighted to volunteer her son for the work.

“Great!” I had said, inside thinking what a bullshit mother she was, trying to get rid of the kid during the little period of time he was actually around.

He was a pleasant enough lad, very straight-laced compared to much of his generation, neat and well-groomed unlike many of his contemporaries who sported long hair and bad manners. While I worked along with Preston, I tried to imagine what this little twink would look like with his clothes off.

How Preston ended up on the couch looking at my dirty magazines was even easier than I had hoped. I “accidentally” unearthed the stash of porn, and after assuring Preston that I didn’t mind if he looked at them, he jumped at the chance.

“Just don’t tell your mother about this,” I said.

“I’m 18, Mr. Roland,” Preston said.

“Still, I don’t think she would appreciate me letting you look at this stuff,” I had told Preston while sitting next to him on the couch. “So let’s just keep this between ourselves.”

“Yes sir,” young Preston said as he looked over the top of the magazine he was holding to keep looking at the cover of the magazine I had positioned on top of the pile, called Bears and Cubs.

“Wish I had magazines like this,” Preston said as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, no mean feat because it wasn’t all that warm. “Could I – you know – borrow some of them?”

“Now what would you with them?”

“You know, read them. I’d bring them back, Mr. Roland. I promise.”

“I’m sure you would,” I said. “What I mean is, what would you do with them? Something tells me that you would bring them up to your bedroom, lock the door and masturbate. Am I right?”

Preston looked at me like he had been struck by lightning, astonished that I could have read the mind of a horny teenager so easily, but when he saw me smiling he gave a nervous chuckle and shrugged his shoulders resignedly.

“At school do you have a roommate?” I asked, and when he nodded I smiled.

“Something tells me that you’ve already found out that it’s a lot more fun to have somebody else do it to you than to do it yourself, am I right?”

Preston gasped, not so much at my words but at the feel my hand on his knee, and as I gently squeezed his bony leg I made a suggestion.

“Why don’t you pick out a couple then?” I said.

Preston lurched forward and went through the pile, but I wasn’t all that happy with what he selected because I knew if I wasn’t looking his choices would have been different.

“Preston?” I said softly. “Take the ones that you really want. It’s okay.”

Now sweat was beginning to trickle down the sides of his face and the hands that held the magazines were trembling noticeably.

“It’s okay,” I repeated in a soothing and as fatherly a tone as I could, and after he swallowed hard he set down the straight magazines and picked izmir escort up the ones he really wanted to look at.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I said, and as Preston opened the one with the two sailors on the cover my eyes went to the bulge in my young friend’s khakis, noticing that something was definitely hard down there.

“And if you’d like, I’d love to save you a trip home,” I said while moving my hand up to the lump. “It really is better when someone else does it for you.”

Preston didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either, so as he stared at me in shock I undid his belt, unbuttoned his slacks and pulled his pants down below his knees, exposing the palest, skinniest and smoothest thighs I had ever seen.

As I undid the bottom buttons of his shirt and spread them apart, I was very surprised and quite pleased to see a very significant bulge in Preston’s snug white briefs. I had been a bit apprehensive at what I wound find, because while I like my men young, I am not in the least interested in boys.

Therefore, I was delighted at what I exposed when I carefully pulled Preston’s underwear down. Preston’s cock, like the rest of him, was beautiful, and while his organ was slender it was surprisingly long, the 6 or 7″ tube looking even bigger than that on his slight frame.

“Your cock is incredible, Preston,” I sighed as I looked at his erection, which had arched back onto his belly after he leaned into the couch, exposing a sizable wrinkled and hairless sac that held his meaty balls. “Your roommate is a lucky guy.”

Preston gave a nervous smile as I reached down and pulled his cock up from his stomach, the ghostly white circumcised prong as hard as blue steel. The skin on the underside of his cock was stretched taut, and a pearl of pre-cum had formed on the tip of his member.

Preston was going to cum any second judging by both the look on his face and the way this dick was pulsating in my hand, so I excused myself and found some lotion that I kept down here for such occasions.

On the couch, Preston was frozen in place, holding the magazine in front of himself while watching me move around the room, and when I rejoined the lad I squeezed out some lotion into my palm and started to coat his cock with the cool gel.

“OH!” Preston grunted as I began to slide my hand up and down the length of his manhood while pinching him hard to retard the orgasm that was bubbling under the surface.

“Mustn’t cum too soon,” I told him. “Anticipation makes it better.”

“Can’t – can’t hold it.”

“Sure you can,” I told him. “Besides, I won’t let you cum. Not yet, so just relax and enjoy it.”

Five minutes later, Preston was slumped way down on the couch, looking so disheveled compared to the neat lad that had arrived at my house earlier. I made the hand job something he would never forget, slowly working over his throbbing cock while bringing him to the brink of orgasm time and time again before continually denying him the pleasure of release.

“Better than doing it yourself?” I asked. “Better than your roommate does it to you I’ll bet. After all, I’ve got a lot more experience.”

Preston nodded but told me he really wanted to cum.

“Feels like my dick is going to explode,” Preston explained. “I usually cum so fast.”

“We’ll have you cumming soon enough. And when you finally do you’ll remember it,” I said, and when I saw that his shirt was drenched with sweat I suggested we take that off of him.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” I declared after we got the wet shirt off of him, and after I had Preston grip the back of the couch with his hands I looked the lad over.

Preston’s body looked like it had never seen a hint of the sun, and his pale white skin was silky smooth. His scrawny chest was as hairless as I had expected it to be, and while he could use a few pounds and maybe lift some weights or something, there was no denying how gorgeous he was. With his arms raised, I let go of his cock for a second to run my hand over his chest and tweak his tiny nipples while watching a solitary drop of perspiration trickle down from an armpit blessed with a surprisingly quantity of golden hair.

“Do you want me to – to do you too?” Preston asked as my hand slid back down to his crotch, pausing at the tuft of golden curls above his cock.

“You don’t have to,” I said, while praying that he would ignore that suggestion. “If you want to though, after I’m through with you I would love it.”

Preston nodded like a eager puppy, and I smiled at his nervous enthusiasm.

“Can’t have you being the only one comfortable,” I said, letting go of poor Preston’s dick, which because of my constant stroking and teasing over the last 20 minutes or so had gone from pale white to beet red, and unbuttoned my shirt while Preston watched out of the corner of his eye.

My body isn’t all that bad, although when you’re 59 you don’t compare well to somebody less than a third your age. Preston didn’t seem to mind though, alsancak escort as he looked over my chest and still decently tones arms and shoulders while I dropped my trousers.

Before kneeling on the couch to finish Preston off, I casually undid the snap on my boxer shorts and watched Preston’s face for his reaction. That’s something I enjoy a great deal, because no matter who’s doing the looking, I usually get a similar reaction no matter how casual the other guy tries to act.

“Holy shit!” Preston gasped, not even trying to hide his shock, and then he caught himself.

“Sorry, Mr. Roland.”

“About what?”

“I swore.”

“That’s okay, Preston,” I assured him. “What’s wrong?”

“Your p..p…penis,” he stuttered.

“What’s wrong? I said, feigning confusion as I looked down at my cock while kneeling beside my young friend.

“It’s fuc – sorry – I mean it’s huge.”

I reveled in observing Preston staring at my cock as it swayed between my thighs. The most important thing to me was that it still worked, but I have to admit that I never fail to get a tingle down my spine when someone reacts like that when first seeing my stuff.

As Preston would soon discover, while my cock was hanging down straight as if it was completely flaccid, I was pretty aroused, so that when fully erect it wouldn’t get much, if any longer than the 9 or so inches it was now.

“Can I touch it?”

“You can touch it all you want, but only after you cum for me. You do want to cum for me, don’t you Preston?”

“Yes, Mr. Roland.”

Charming lad. I was going to tell him he could use my first name, but there was something about the formality of the Mr. Roland that added a edge to it all.

I went back to work, holding his well lubricated hot poker in my hand while working the pre-cum oozing out of him back into the head of his dick. Preston was groaning as I started stroking him once again, but instead of keeping him from cumming, my pinching and squeezing were now designed to make the young lad cum.

Having watched what seemed like a copious amount of sap drool out of him during the extended period of time I had been teasing him, I was wondering whether he had anything left in the tank. That was a foolish thought, as it turned out.

Preston’s face was straining as he tried to thrust his hips upwards as I jacked him hard, and then he cried out as I felt the surge through his cock. A little wad of semen spat out of his tortured member, and then all hell broke loose.

I’ve seen a lot of cocks and have made a lot of guys cum, but nothing compared to the sight of Preston whose cock made like Old Faithful. The first jet of cum shot probably a foot in the air – so high that I could hear it land on his stomach a second later.

The ensuing spurts were not as majestic, but that long slender prong kept cumming and cumming while Preston’s body convulsed as he nearly slid completely off the sofa. His legs were still quivering as I kept milking him while he went limp, squeezing every drop I could out of his spent tool.

“Oh man,” Preston moaned. “Can’t believe that.”

It was indeed hard to believe, I agreed as I surveyed my hands and wrists along with Preston’s scrawny chest and flat stomach, all of which were laced with ropes of semen, and looking at the now tiny tube that I reluctantly let go of, it seemed impossible that so much cum had been housed in that little body.

When Preston recovered, I pulled him up off of the couch and eased down upon the cushion myself. Instead of sitting, or slouching as Preston had done, I chose to lie on my back and instructed him to kneel beside me on the floor and handed him the lube, because if I had assumed the position on the couch that he had, I might never be able to straighten up again.

“Use as much as you want,” I told Preston as he squeezed some lotion into his palm. “I like my cock greased up really well.

My young friend nodded as he reached over and lifted my cock up from between my legs, and mentioned that he never touched an uncircumcised cock before.

“It’s neat, but scary looking,” he said as he timidly retracted my foreskin back to exposed the bell shaped glans.

“Glad you like it,” I said while looking at the trembling fingers that held my cock.

“Can’t believe how big yours is. Can’t get my hand around it, and it isn’t even hard yet.”

I was going to mention that Preston had tiny hands but chose not to. He seemed confused about the fact that I didn’t have any pubic hair, so I explained that once I saw gray hairs appearing I shaved it one time and it never grew back.

“Anthony’s penis is big too, but not nearly as large as yours is.”

“Anthony? Is he your roommate?” I asked, and Preston nodded while starting to pull on my cock with his left hand while holding on to the base, and in a matter of seconds my reliable weapon was getting hard.

“Is this okay?” Preston asked.

“It’s wonderful,” I said. “You can use both buca escort hands if you want.”

“Like this?” Preston asked as his greased hands gripped me like a baseball bat and worked up and down my cock.

“Yes – slide your hands all the way over the tip – that’s it,” I exclaimed as his palm caressed the head before sliding back down. “You like doing this don’t you Preston? I can tell.”

The evidence was bobbing in front of him as he knelt beside me. Preston’s sweet prong was hard again already, a testament to his youth as much as the enjoyment he was getting from jerking me off.

He blushed and grinned, and then gasped when I reached down and grabbed him. Not his cock, but his balls, and as I pulled and twisted them around a bit he let of a grunt as I felt his seed hit the back of my arm.

“Sorry,” Preston said, apologizing for having an orgasm all over the side of the sofa, but I assured him that it was fine, not adding that the couch had seen plenty of semen in its time.

Preston concentrated on the matter before him, sliding both hands up and down the entire length of my cock as he looked at it like it was one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and before long as a result of his eager hands and worshipful gazing I felt my sap rising from within.

“Harder – faster!” I groaned, and then I came, my semen coming out much less calmly than my young friend’s volleys had, but it felt marvelous nonetheless.

“Can I keep doing this?” Preston asked as he continued to pull on my spent cock after it went limp.

“Of course.”

“It’s like elastic,” Preston giggled as he pulled in it, and after I assured him he didn’t hurt a bit, stretched it up as far as he could.

Eventually Preston’s arms got tired, and after we got dressed he prepared to go home.

“Probably get done with this work tomorrow,” Preston said with a sigh as he looked at the small pile of stuff we hadn’t gotten to.

“You sound sad about that,” I commented, and when he shrugged I told him that he could keep coming over after the work was done.

“You don’t need to say anything to your mother,” I said. “Best not to say anything. I mean, don’t lie but just say nothing.”

“You mean I could keep coming over and we could do – you know.”

“What?” I asked.

“You know. Masturbate each other?”

“There are other things we could do,” I suggested.

“Stuff like is in those magazines?” Preston asked, and when I nodded he confessed.

“Never did anything like that before,” Preston said as he looked at one of the pictures in the magazine he was taking, where one guy had a mouthful of the other guy’s cock. “I only did what we just did.”

“Would you like to learn?”

“I think so,” Preston said softly, and then added, “My mother thinks you’re a homosexual. She always told me to be careful around you.”

“I see,” I said, amused that she was so concerned about my leanings that she sent the kid over to me practically gift wrapped. “She’s right. I am.”

“I think I am too,” Preston said as if I didn’t know it already.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said. “We are what we are.”

“Can I hug you?”

He said it so sweetly, as if he suspected that I would actually say no to such a request.

“I’d like that very much,” I said, and then we were hugging, a tender embrace that was unlike any I could ever recall experiencing before, and when it was over and we separated Preston had tears in his eyes, further proof that the lad was not used to being shown affection.

“Thank you,” Preston said.

“How about another then?” I said as I wrapped my arms around him.

I was much taller than Preston, so I found myself kissing the top of his head, his soft blonde locks tasting sweet, and then for some reason I was leaning downward and lifting his face up to me.

I don’t think Preston had ever kissed anybody before, male or female, at least not the way I was kissing him, but he did not protest and soon was kissing me back. Crudely and amateurishly, but with all of his heart, and by the time the kiss ended I could feel his dick poking me in the thigh. To be young again!

“Ooh!” Preston gasped when I turned so that my dead dick was rubbing against Preston’s erection. “This feels so good when our dicks rub together.”

“I’m sure we can spend some time tomorrow doing this, when I’ve got a little more energy,” I said as I looked down and saw the sword fight which my spent tool was losing.

“I wish it was tomorrow already.”

I chuckled when I heard that, because I was so drained that I was going to have having enough trouble climbing the stairs.

“Oh, you forgot the magazines,” I said as Preston prepared to leave.

“That’s okay,” Preston said and then gave me another laugh when he added, “It’s not like they have instructions in them.”

“Tomorrow,” I said, happy that he wouldn’t be jacking off all night to those pictures, even if he would spend the evening stroking off thinking about today.

“Seven okay?”

“Uh, it takes me a little time to wake up in the morning. How about nine-thirty or so?” I said, and Preston reluctantly agreed.

I watched the blonde twink skip down the stairs, the sight of his cute little butt still fresh in my mind. He wanted to be taught, maybe almost as badly as I wanted to teach him.

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