Please Mike, Just Try

by Jared Dreamer

My cousin Mike used to wrestle with me when we were kids, when he was 16 and I was 13.

He was so big, so strong, so overpowering.

We'd wrestle in his bedroom when his mom wasn't home. She worked all day. It was summer. We were there all alone. Eating Pop Tarts. Doing homework. Getting horny.

We'd be in our underwear.

I would wrestle him like a tiny tiger, angry because he was so big and I could never pin him.

No matter how hard I tried, he just laughed and flipped me over. I'd get so mad. And his cock would be so hard. Skin on skin. Body on body. He wanted me so much. His thick teen cock was worlds bigger than mine.

I'd lay on his chest, angry, fire in my eyes, panting, horny, wanting his cock.

He'd effortlessly spin me over. Pin me down. Rub his hot, thick, underwear-covered cock all over my tummy, my belly button. He'd rub it on me. Make me crazy.

My eyes would roll back in my head. I'd close my eyes. Arch my back. Tongue out, panting, in-heat, ready for him. My butt would itch for him, wanting.

But I was too little. He didn't want to hurt me.

The first time I tried, I reached my hand up to grab his hot cock. I held it tight. It was so big and so hard. I heard him moan, but then he pushed my hand away.

I cried. I was embarrassed.

"Sorry," I said, quickly getting up, putting my pants on, sniffling back tears.

"It's okay," he said, blushing. "I just can't, you know? You're too little."

I got on my bike and rode home. Crying.

He didn't want to hurt me. He knew if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. Wouldn't be able to stop until he put it inside me. Which is what I wanted.

But I wanted him in me. Beautiful, strong, muscled Mike.

He knew it's what I wanted.

For him to take me, fill me, fuck me.

But he was to scared to hurt me.

My beautiful strong boy-cousin.

I wanted to give him everything he wanted. Every part of me.

But he was just too scared to hurt me.

Even when I invited him. Couldn't have made it plainer.

I rode my bike home crying.

I was so mad, I hated him.

But I loved him.

Loved him, loved him, hated him.

And even through my tears, I wanted to turn my bike around

Turn my bike around and go back and tell him, "Please, Mike. It's okay."

"Please, Mike. Just try."

The next time I tried, he let me hold it. He let me stroke it. He let me make his cum squirt out.

"No," he groaned as my hand reached up to grab his hard cock again. He started to push my hand away. I held it firm this time.

"Stevie, you can't," he groaned. "I'm too big for you. I told you. You're too little."

I reached up my hands up and I rubbed them on his cheeks. I held his face in my hands and looked at him.

This time, I did whisper what I wanted. I did get brave and say it to him.

"Please Mike. Just try."

He moaned again and then he kissed me.

His pin turned into a kiss.

A sweet, hungry, aching kiss. I'd never been kissed by a person like that before. I've never been kissed that way again. It was the kind of kiss you get from someone who wants no one but you. There's no pretending you're somebody else. That person can't even think of another person when they're kissing you. Wouldn't dream of pretending. He kissed me that hard. He kissed me that good. It tasted like he wanted me, all to himself, forever. Me alone, and never anybody else.

"Oh, Christ," I heard him whisper, as he came up for air. "Even your tongue is little. So hot. So little."

But my littleness didn't stop him this time.

"Nnngggh," he moaned into my buzzing, happy mouth, electric vibrations of his moans and saliva sending shivers up my spine. My little cock was dancing hard and scared and happy in my pants.

I reached down and felt his dick again. Big long dick like a man would have. Reached into his underwear and grabbed it.

It was very hard. It was hot and heavy. It was sticky on the tip.

"I wanna suck it for you," I whispered in his ear. "I know how to suck it. I suck my friend Jason."

"No," he groaned, tonguing my lips, his voice raw and whispery. "Just touch it. Just keep your hand right there and squeeze."

I squeezed my hand around it tighter.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he grunted. And he began sliding his cock back and forth between my closed hand. It was sticky and wet and way too big for my hand, but he slid the tip in and out anyway. He fumbled. He slipped. I grabbed it again. He groaned. He wiggled his hips against my hand.

He kissed me so hard. I got lost in his kisses. I went away somewhere I don't know where I went. His kisses could do that. They could make me get lost.

His big tongue took great laps across my mouth. Slid inside and wrestled with mine. He bit at my lips. He sucked my bottom lip tenderly. Sucked at my mouth. Sucked at my tongue. His kisss felt so good to me. His kisses felt like Christmas.

"Oh, Stevie," he whispered. "You're gonna make me squirt, baby."

"Squirt it for me," I whispered back. "I want your squirts all over me"

And I was rubbing my hard cock on him. Rubbing it on his tummy. It was still in my undies. It was hard and it was aching at it wanted to come out.

But he was too close to cumming. He didn't care about my cock. Just his. So big. So close. So close. So "do it!" I whispered.

"Nnngh," he moaned. "I should know better, I should know better. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

And then he shot! He came! He came on my hand! It was awesome! It was gooey! It was so fucking sticky-hot!

He shuddered violently. Clenched up. Pushed forward. Shot an explosion of creamy teen goo all over my hand. So wet. So hot. All over my wrist. All over my arm and my hand and my wrist and his undies. Sticky goo everywhere. We didn't even take his undies off. It got everywhere. So much of it. I wanted it. Wanted it in me.

"So sorry," he said. "So sorry, so sorry."

"Why?" I whined. "I like when you do this. Why can't you like it more?"

"You're little," he said. "I have to be good to you. I have to take care of you."

I took my hand out and I wiped his cum on my face.

"See how I like it?"

He moaned. Shut his eyes.

I reached my hand down and stroked my own cock.

"Your cum makes me hot," I whispered. "It's sexy. I want it."

I rubbed it on my lips.

I sucked it from my finger.

"I like your cum," I told him. "I want to do it more."

He kissed me again. And held me. He cuddled and kissed and licked his cum from my face. From out of my mouth. Somewhere when he did that my cock shot off. My own little cocklet as I stroked it. Dry shivers. Like fireworks.

"That's it baby," he whispered to me as I clenched him, twitching. "Be a big boy for me. Make yourself feel good, Stevie. That's it, baby. Get your feeling."

I bit his lip when I came. Hard. By accident. I tasted copper. I made him bleed.

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I didn't mean to...I didn't mean too...I just...too much...I just..." couldn't finish the words. I was breathing too hard.

"Shh," he said. "S'okay. Don't worry."

He kissed me again. Hot, coppery man kiss. There was nothing small about it.

He held me to his chest. Big strong chest. So safe. So warm.

I could feel his heartbeat.

I could taste the pulse of his copper-sweet kisses and feel the safety of him loving me.

The next time we did stuff, he sucked me.

He pinned me in my underwear, but we both knew it wasn't about wrestling anymore.

The wrestling was just the pretend part now, and we both knew it.

"Fuck me," I whispered to him. "Fuck me in my butthole."

"Stevie," he sighed. "I can't. I want to! But my dick is too big."

"Jason fucks me!" I yelled at him, mad.

"Jason is 13," he shook his head. "Jason is THIS big." He held up his thumb, erect. It was true.

"I'm THIS big." He took my hand and put it on his cock. Erect. And huge. He wasn't lying. It was big.

"You may have been fucked with THIS," he showed me his thumb. "But it's not gonna feel like fucking with THIS," he squeezed my hand on his dick. "THIS will hurt."

"But it's the same principle," I shrugged.

He laughed. I socked his ribs.

"Ooof," he said.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," I sulked. "You really piss me off."

"Aww," he smiled. "Come on, don't be mad. You're my funny baby."

He was trying to make it up to me and I didn't want to be made-up-to. I was mad.

"Let's just do other stuff," he said. "I'll make you feel good today."

"But my butt," I whined. "My butt wants to feel good! Please Mike! Just try!"

"Shhh," he said, and he was down in my crotch, his breath blowing hot and damp against the fabric of my underwear. My cock came to life in a second. My little hard spike woke up and wanted him more than my butt did. Traitor. It tricked me. I wanted him to fuck me, but my cock wanted this more.

He peeled down my underwear and ran his tongue across my hairless pubis. He licked my V. His mouth made me shiver. He traced his tongue down the length of my cock. My tiny little dickie. I didn't even care that it was smaller than his. I wasn't even embarrassed. His tongue was braver than I was and it made me not ashamed. When he took me in his mouth, all I could do was melt and see stars.

"Thank you, Mike," I whispered to the ceiling. I grabbed his hair and pulled him onto my suck stick. My tiny cock was finding rhythm in his wetness. I knew just what to do. And I did it like a big boy does.

I pumped him and pumped him and then it was over. In a shivery clench of stars and shudders, I got my feeling in Mike's wet mouth. And I squirted piss. Just one little squirt. An accident. But it made him moan. He didn't spit. He clenched my butt cheeks.

He took out his cock. It was huge and dark and red.

It only took him ten seconds.

Twenty fast strokes.

And he shot his load all over my tummy.

I watched it come out. I gasped out loud. It flew up and hit my nipple. Dripped on my belly button. Oozed on my skin. I rubbed it around. I grabbed his cock and squeezed out more drops.

His cum was all over me. I took a gob and I put it in my ass.

He moaned and he watched me as I fingered his cum up my ass.

"Here's where I want it," I whispered with my eyes closed. "Put it up here."

"Stevie..." he moaned.

I took his finger. I scooped up more cum.

I put his finger in my ass.

He moaned and so did I.

He fingered my ass. He got really hard again.

"We have to stop," he begged me. "I can't do this. Can't do this."

He fingered his cum up my ass and told me he couldn't fuck me.

Wet, long finger pushing semen up my ass and still he wouldn't put his cock in.

I whimpered. I wiggled. I made noises like a puppy.

Nothing. He stopped. He walked away. Hard cock betraying his nobility.

"Please Mike," I whispered to the emptiness inside me, "just try."

The next time we did stuff, I swallowed his semen.

He wasn't going to let me. He said it was too much.

"I've seen it," I told him. "You squirted on me last time. It's not too much. I can do it."

"You're too little," he said, a broken record.

"You're a chicken," I said, getting mad again, daring him.

And that pissed him off.

"Is this what you want?" He took out his cock.

He pinned me and put it in my face. By my mouth. It smelled like cock. Like hard, angry cock.

"Yeah," I said, defiant and proud. "I wanna suck on your big hard COCK. So FUCK YOU."

And that made him do it.

That made him slide his cock into my mouth, not nice.

"You want my cock, you little gay fag boy?" he growled and it scared me. It scared me in the good way. The scare that makes your butthole get hungry.

"Then have some fucking COCK you fucker."

And he pushed it in and out. Too much at first. I gagged. He was fast.

I wanted to suck him good, do it nice for him, but his cock was coming at me way too fast.

"Ouch," he said when it scraped against my teeth. "Open wider! Do it now!"

I opened as wide as I could. Got that thick mushroom head in my mouth. Sucked down on it. Made suction. Got used to it. Felt better.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. "That's a good boy. That's a good boy."

I moaned. Made an "mmmmm" sound, which vibrated on his cockhead and made him groan and pump faster.

"You wanna be a good little gay boy?" he growled.

I nodded, eyes wide.

"Well this," he grunted, "is what...we feed...little gay boys..." he pushed...and "NNNNGGGHHHHH" squirted! It blew up in my mouth! It just squirted like crazy!

"So eat it," he grunted. "Eat it...and eat it...and swallow it...and NNNGGGH."

And I did. I did swallow it.

"Oh fuck," he whispered. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. That's what little gay boys get to eat, Stevie. All the time. Is that what you want?"

"Fuck you," I told him. "That was mean. You didn't have to do it that hard."

He looked sad. But I was still pissed at him. Pissed and horny both.

"And I DO want to do that all the time," I yelled at him. "So FUCK YOU! I DO want it, okay? So SHUT UP!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then he was Mike again, cuddling me closer. Making my cock hard. "You made me so horny. I didn't know how to stop myself."

"Yeah, I noticed that part," I said. And he laughed. And I laughed too.

"But secret?" I asked him...?

"Yeah...?" he asked back...?

"When you did it that rough? It kinda made my cock hard. I kinda liked it like that."

And it did make my cock hard. I showed it too him.

"Well let's see what we can do about that," he grinned.

And he did.

He opened his mouth and he sucked my hard cock and he did something about it right then and there.

He did something good.

And yesterday when we did stuff, Mike finally fucked me.

"Please, Mike. Just try!" I begged him. I was getting tired of saying it!

"Stevie, I told you! I'm too big! I can't stop myself!"

"So, who cares? Don't stop yourself!"

"You saw what happened when I put my cock in your mouth! I can't stop. I'm rough. It just feels too good. It has to go off!"

"So, do it! Go off! I won't break! I'm not that little. FUCK YOU!"

"But if it hurts you, I'm scared I won't stop. I'm scared it'll hurt you and I won't take it out. I know I'll have to finish!"

That was it. I was done.

I pushed him off me. Stupid dumb-fake wrestling pin. FUCK HIM.

"Stop pretending you're wrestling with me, Mike. Get off. I hate you!"

I pushed out from under him. Got up. Started to put my clothes on.

"Stevie," he said, looking sad.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I yelled. And I was crying. Sobbing. I threw my shirt at him.

"Shut up! Leave me alone!"

He looked crestfallen.

"You don't even want me! You don't even like me! It's all I want to do and you won't even do it! I hate you! You're stupid!"

"Stevie," he whispered. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"Don't you get it?" I screamed. "I WANT you to hurt me like that. I know it's gonna hurt! I'm not that stupid! But it's all I ever THINK about! I NEED you to hurt me that way. You just don't GET IT! God, you are STUPID! I HATE YOU sometimes!"

And I was crying. Sobbing, Moaning in sadness. My eyes were so blurry I couldn't even see him. I grabbed my shirt, put it on. He reached up and grabbed me. I tried to twist away, but he picked me up. Effortlessly. And I HATED he could do that to me. Hated being the stupid weak one all the time. I hated him, cried, because I hated him loved him, hated him loved him. I cried so hard. And he carried me to his bed. Laid me down. Kissed me in hunger. Kissed me with all the love and the fearful passion in his heart and soul.

"Baby," he whispered. "I love you so much, Stevie. I will do anything for you, Stevie. Anything you say. I mean it. I promise."

I kept crying. Cried quietly. I didn't believe him.

"I'm sorry I did this to you," he whispered, kissing all my tears away. Licking them. Swallowing them back into his heart where they came from. "I'll do anything you say. Please don't cry like this. Anything."

"Please, Mike," I begged him desperately. I looked into his eyes and I really tried to find the man inside. To help him find his courage. To find his compassion and his empathy and convince him I was ready for this. That I'd been ready for this since the summer began. I was so tired of begging him. But all I could do was beg him one more time. There's nothing else you can do when you want something so badly. You're ashamed. You feel smaller than small. But you beg anyway. You have to. You HAVE to.

I cried. He kissed me.

I cried. He licked my tears.

I felt him harden. I reached down and grabbed his cock. Aching. Empty. Defeated and lost.

"Please, Mike," I cried. My moan was a wail. There was no more hope in me then.

I sobbed. I collapsed into nothingness.

"Please, Mike. Just try."

"Yes, baby," he kissed me and whispered.

"Please don't cry, okay? We'll try, okay? We'll try. Don't cry."

The world turned into summer that day. Forever summer I never came back from, where nights were long and crickets chirped from fresh-mowed lawns and starlit skies. There was no going back after he changed my world that day. Even now, years later, when I close my eyes, I'm still that boy. Still 13, and still in his arms.

Whatever I was before that day, I could no longer be.

Once I was just a field and a forest. Now I was acres of flowers and pine trees and fast-growing roses shooting straight to the sky.

I left my innocence behind me that day. Long behind. Far behind.

Silly things were gone when he loved me. My life turned into loving like grown-ups.

He fucked me.

He filled me.

He helped me grow up.

He licked me down there.

His wide wet tongue making wet sticky circles before pushing deep inside me, my tiny ass already opening up like a flower to take him in.

I had practiced. God, I had practiced.

With fingers. With candles. With things I could find. Practicing for this. Knowing this would help him go in easier. Wanting to be ready for him.

But who can be ready at 13 for the enormity.

His cock. His power. So big. So demanding.

And I was so little.

But he licked me there first, and my mind went on fire. My body turned into flushed, panting heat. His fingers stretched me and I moaned, pushing back.

My legs were over his shoulders.

He was glistening with Vaseline.

He pushed himself forward.

Just a little. Just an inch.

The pain was piercing, stabbing, fiery red.

I sucked in my breath. I winced. I cried out.

"Too fast! Not so fast!"

He stopped. He pulled out. He went slow. Tried again.

"See?" I winced, proud of my prediction. "You CAN slow down. You CAN be nice."

He smiled. So hard. So wanting. So needing me.

He pushed in again. He went slower this time. For me. Not to hurt me.

This time it went in. An inch. Then two. Then three. Then God.

Then God, everything went up and it all went in me.

Just slipped inside. Like heaven. Like release.

I could smell my own ass. I could smell his hard cock.

So big. So full.

And God, he was in me.

And he pushed it in, and my eyes filled with tears.

Not hurt tears. Not scared tears.

Just tears of completion.

"I love you," I told him. I was crying. I was shaking.

"I love you, Stevie," he whispered back. "I love you so much."

And so began the in-and-out. The sweet dance of summer, where a boy is loved by an older boy who loves him. Incomprehensible new dance. It shouldn't be possible. Yet there it is anyway, and all the more beauty, because there it is, love, going all in-and-out. And no one is hurt, and no one is scared, and if you think that it's wrong then you just weren't there. You'll never understand. If you think that it's wrong, then I'm sorry for you, really sorry. The beauty is so tangible there are songs in the sky. And if you still can't hear them, then I'm sorry, you're wrong. You just weren't there.

"Cum in me," I whispered to this big strong boy who was loving me. "I need to feel your cum in me."

"My baby," he whispered. "I love you so much."

And he pushed, and he grunted, and he grabbed my little ass with the thickest of hands and he pulled my asshole onto his cock so hard I thought it would come through my throat. And then he was panting, and rutting, and shaking and fucking.

Oh, God he was fucking.

He was fucking me so hard.

And I was moaning and whimpering and I thought I would die of sheer love in his arms.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he grunted, then "God...OH GOD..."

And his cock erupted into the tightness of my ass like a fountain. Like a gusher. Like a hydrant of desire that had been locked off since the first dance of summer, when I first grabbed his cock and he pushed me away. And now it was filling me. Fucking me. Quenching me with completion.

I could not feel his sperm shoot. The stories are wrong. You can not feel the semen as it shoots in your ass.

You can not feel the three, four, five jets of jizz as they ram into your rectum.

That's dumb. That's stupid.

There's no physical feeling when it happens.


Stop lying when you write that.

But you know what you DO feel?

Do you know what you feel when you're 13 and a 16-year-old boy erupts in your ass?

A sense of immortality. Of newfound omnipotence.

To be that young and have someone older need you that much, FILL you that much, makes you feel like Superman. To know that for one shining second you are the center of his heart and his soul and his entire universe? And what he's unloading into you now isn't just his semen, it's the only thing his body can DO. It's everything he IS right now, this is ALL he can do in this second. And he's doing it into YOU. Into your NOW. And you had the power to make him helpless that way. In one shining second, you owned him completely. You really are an immortal. A god to be treasured. Even at 13. Especially at 13.

It's victory. It's power. It's fulfillment. THAT'S what you feel jetting out into your ass and your heart and your mind, until ever fiber of your being, every atom in your body feels filled by him to almost overflowing. Until your eyes well up with tears for the sheer acquiescence and gratitude of what you were able to give to him just now. THAT'S what you feel in your ass as he fills it. Not jets of cum. Not literary license. You feel the life and the power and the person you were able to be for him in that one special moment, in that magic of all magics, in that long-ago summer.

He kissed my tears and he held me as he filled me with his grateful cum. Drew me into his arms and his heart and fell silent, filling me, kissing me, loving me.

"I love you," he whispered again, as the last quiet moments of my sweet-silly boyhood rose into the air like vapor, like whispers and flew off somewhere like butterflies, vanishing into the night skies above.

"I love you," he said.

"Forever?" I asked him?

He smiled and he kissed me.

"Forever?" he repeated. "That's long, baby. That's a very long time."

He looked in my eyes and he smiled as he held me.

He looked at me softly and he wiped my last tear.

"Forever is long," he repeated with kindness.

"Please, Mike," I said, smiling back at his memory...

"Please, Mike. Just try."

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