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Date: Sun, 31 Dec 2023 04:48:14 +0000
From: Lizard69 <69lizard69@pm.me>
Subject: Cherry (Revised)

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Cherry (Mm Bi)
Lizard69

	I wasn't all that surprised when he rested his hand on my denim
clad thigh.  I'd had countless warnings about accepting rides from
strangers.  Some people would say I was even asking for it.  The way I was
talking up his car to my friends as he walked across the parking lot was
about one step short of climbing in and demanding a ride.  I wasn't scared
either.  Realistically, nothing was going to happen in a MGB.

	"Pull over, we need to talk."

	There was a small park by the river at the edge of town.  He pulled
into the lot and found a space away from the few other cars.

	"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

	"Relax, I'm not upset.  I'm also not queer.  Anybody who spends as
much time as I do thinking about girls sure as hell isn't gay.  Until last
summer I never even thought about what two guys might do together."

	"Last summer?"

	"Uh-huh.  I was out riding my bike when I found a bunch of skin
mags somebody dumped in the ditch.  I guess he didn't want to take a chance
on anyone digging through his trash.  Most of them were the usual thing,
big photo layouts and little articles.  A couple were, "letter to the
editor" things that had to be mostly fake.  You know, either guys working
in an office writing fake mail from readers or real people writing about
stuff they wish they did."

	"Yeah, I've seen that kind of magazine."

	"Well, there was one letter.  His girlfriend met a new guy and
dumped him but he didn't want to let her go.  He offered to do *anything*
if she'd keep letting him hang with her.  Just being mean, she told him
she'd let him stick around if he let her new boyfriend fuck him."

	"Oh... wow."

	"At first he's like, `no way'.  But after a while he gets like the
less she wants him the more he wants her, so he does it, almost three pages
of does it."

	"What did you think of it?"

	"Weird.  The way he wrote it up, it wasn't hot, it wasn't even fun.
It started out awkward and super embarrassing.  Most of it was gross.  Some
of it really hurt.  Then at the end she dumps both of them saying that as
long as they have each other they don't really need her."

	"Un-fuckin-real!"

	"So, I'm sitting there thinking this might actually be a real
letter.  Also that she's right but not the way she thinks, nobody needs a
bitch like that.  Only..."

	"Only?"

	"There's this girl I like.  She's just a year older and thinks I'm
cute but doesn't want to hang out with a kid.  I kind of understand.  I
turned fourteen a week ago but there are twelve year olds who can kick my
ass.  She's way too nice to ask me to do something like that.  If I did she
wouldn't want to know about it.  Doing it isn't going to suddenly turn me
into somebody she wants to date.  But after being with somebody I'd feel
different about myself and I think she might notice."

	"So if somebody wanted to be with you?"

	"It couldn't be somebody I know very well or see everyday.  I'd be
too scared everyone would find out we did it.  He would have to go real
slow and careful so it doesn't hurt too bad.  That means it would have to
be someplace private so I wouldn't be worried about getting caught.  I
would have to be sure he isn't going to tell anybody, like, he's over 18
and would get in big trouble if he was caught with a kid."

	The hand was back, massaging my thigh.  It was one of those moments
you remember for the rest of your life.  You know the choice is going to
take you in one of two completely different directions and you can't be
sure until afterwards if you did the right thing.  I knew it couldn't be
much more than a minute, was probably less, but it started to feel like
forever.  I guess that's what decided me.  I didn't feel like he was
groping me or pushing me to do something, in spite of the hand on my leg.
It's like he was going to wait for me to decide no matter how long it took.
I sat there staring past his hand at the grubby floor mat.

	"It's almost three thirty.  The late bus leaves school at five.  If
I'm not on it I have to be on the phone with an explanation before it gets
to my place.  If the explanation doesn't include who's driving me home my
dad will be pissed."

	"I was on my way home when I offered you a ride.  I live alone.  If
you miss the bus I'll make sure you get home.  Are you sure you want to do
this?"

	"Not really, it's kind of scary, but I'm totally certain that if I
don't I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been
like."

	He drove a couple blocks back into town then turned off on a side
street with one cheap apartment complex after another.  Soon, he pulled
into one, parked in a covered space and led me up a flight of stairs then
through a numbered door.  It felt like we were completely hidden.  The
neighbors had their own lives behind their own closed doors.  If the place
caught fire I couldn't even tell them where to send a truck.  He left me
standing and started to rummage in the fridge.

	"Well, this is home.  Relax, take your clothes off.  Can I get you
something?"

	He wasn't busy for long and when he turned my way...  Well...  From
his expression I'd say he was joking about the clothes off thing.  I
blushed and tried to cover up, almost reaching for my pile of discarded
clothes.  Before I could he came over and lifted my chin until we were
making eye contact.

	"It's Ok.  I know you can't really be that eager.  You just wanted
to get past the hard part and far enough into it that you won't try to back
out.  That took a lot of nerve.  It also saved a lot of time that we can
use to make sure you don't feel rushed for the rest of it."

	He leaned in slow enough that I can't really say he caught me off
guard, except that I didn't know he was going to kiss me until we were
actually doing it.  I guess I kind of squirmed a little, more at the idea
than the experience.

	"Gross!"

	"Really?  A mouth is a mouth.  Does it bother you that when you
kiss your first girl she'll know you have some experience?"

	"Well...  Not when you put it that way."

	Between kisses he moved me towards the couch and got undressed
himself.  He wasn't old, maybe mid twenties, not an athlete but young
enough to be fairly slim.  I think it was more the way he carried himself
that caused me to think of him as a man rather than an older boy.  Even his
cock wasn't much larger than mine, though by that point I was getting
embarrassed about how stiff I was.  From what he did next I was almost
ready to believe he could read minds.  As one hand ran lightly up my back
until it rested on my neck and kept me from pulling away from another deep
kiss, the fingers of the other closed on my erection and began to slowly
stroke.  Some unknown time later he was seated on one end of the couch
while I was laying there with my face inches from his cock.

	"I don't know if I can do this."

	"Only one way to find out, start small.  See that spot on the
underside near the end?  Stick out your tongue and try to massage that spot
with just the tip.  Take all the time you need, there's no hurry."

	While he was more than hard enough it kept bobbing around until I
trapped his erection between his stomach and my tongue.  I won't say
realizing what I'd done made me blush but it certainly gave one more excuse
for something that was already happening.  Trying not to look too closely,
I was licking and kissing my way up and down the underside when I noticed
an unfamiliar taste.  He wrapped his fist around it and milked out a large
drop of clear pre-cum.

	"Open wide.  Pull your lips down over your teeth and tight against
the ridge right behind the head.  Swirl your tongue around the end while
you suck."

	It's hard to explain.  If some stranger in a public restroom asked
me to do that I'd run like hell.  I didn't know this guy any better but
what he was asking was only a *little* more than I was already doing.
Pleasing him, and not just physically, somehow mattered to me.  I hadn't
seen him grab a tube of lubricant off the end table and nearly bit him when
a wet, slippery, fingertip dipped into my ass crack.  Another joined it,
pushing lube into my asshole with the flats, dipping deeper and deeper
until the tips slipped down inside me.  He kept it up, gently stretching
and lubing me while I was sliding the tight ring of my lips further and
further down his cock.  My ass felt sloppy wet and, well, loose.

	"I'm about one hard sneeze away from popping a load.  Your ass is
as wet and open as a virgin boy cunt can get.  I don't want you to have any
reason for telling people that I raped you.  Straddle my lap and lower
yourself onto my cock."

	Doing what you're told isn't the same as giving consent.  That's
something I wouldn't learn until later, much later by the yardstick of
personal experience.  I still don't know if the letter in that magazine was
real but it was certainly realistic.  By the time the head of his dick
slipped into me I thought it was going to tear me open.  Having him
watching me, seeing me naked, my erection bouncing around while he fucked
me, was more embarrassing than I could possibly have imagined.  It hurt bad
enough that I can't really say I felt him cum, just that I somehow knew
when it happened.  His thrusts slowed then stopped.  I slumped forwards
onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around me while his erection slowly
shrank until my sore ass pushed it out.

	He soaped me up in the shower but didn't give me a hard time about
not feeling like returning the favor.  He got out and dried off a little
before me.  I guess I was feeling dirtier.  He was waiting at the front
door.  It's not like he threw me out or I ran away but there wasn't
anything more to do and neither of us was eager to talk about it.  My
friends had caught the early bus by the time we got back to the shopping
center.  While I was waiting for the late bus I found the note in my book
bag.

	Tom,

		At least that's the name on your book bag, for all I know
you got it second hand.  (I'm John by the way.)  If this afternoon was
anything like my own first time with a man there's enough stuff churning in
your head that it will have to settle some before you can even begin to
sort it out.  I'm probably not the best person to tell you this but
somebody has to.  While right or wrong isn't always clear, you haven't done
anything bad.  You didn't lie or steal, or hurt anybody.  Sooner or later
you will seek to pleasure yourself.  It's something adolescent boys, (and
even us old guys), do fairly often.  Don't be upset if it brings to mind
images of what we did.  Solo sex often triggers memories of the real thing.
My phone number is on the back side of this in case you want to see me
again... or just want to talk.  Either way, I wish you all the best.

	John

	While I was standing at the bus stop trash can, tearing the note
into pieces small enough nobody would ever know what it said, the phone
number came into view and something I still can't put into words made me
tear it off and stuff it in my book bag.

	The girl I was interested in did notice something different about
me but we never got together.  When I got home after being with John I
thought about her while I was jacking off, until memories of being fucked
crowded her out of my mind.  I tried to fight it.  Have you ever tried,
really tried, to *not* think about something?  Time passed.  Eventually I
called John, asking if he could pick me up after school one day.  I managed
not to cum in my pants before I hung up the phone.

	I've been with several girls since then.  It's amazing how much
easier it is to catch one when you quit chasing them.  I've also been man
fucked more times than I want to count.  I still don't think I'm gay.  When
I want to be with someone it's a girl.  When I just want sex, its easier to
hook up with a man.  I'm not sure where it will all end but for now I can
live with that.