Author: JojoMojo
Title: Flying High
Part: 1
Universe: Flying High
Summary: A young boy discovers the pleasures of mutual manipulation.
Keywords: f-teen/b, ped, mast, cons



Flying High

by JojoMojo

(f-teen/b, ped, mast, cons)

The following is completely and without a doubt a fictional account, 100 percent fantasy.  That said, as I write, I reflect on the things that I experienced as a child, what felt good and what did not.  Those experiences had a profound effect, and for the most part, I look back on them fondly.

Caring, fun, ecstasy is what I'm interested in, for all involved, or it's not worth doing or writing about. 
Thanks to a friend who shared his memories that became the seed for this story.  I love stories that are rooted in real experiences.  I've tried to write this from the perspective of and elementary school boy, using terms I remember from my growing up.



He was flying!  

It was so easy, he couldn't believe it.  All he had to do was lift his arms and push off gently with his toes and he escaped the bonds of gravity.  As he gently lifted off, he wondered why he hadn't figured out how to fly before now.  Stretching his head back and looking up caused him to rocket effortlessly skyward.  Leaning to left he swooped down in that direction.  If he arched his back he arced effortlessly into a loop.  The harder he arched, the tighter the loop.  The thrill of flying made his heart hammer and his feelings soar.

High above the city, he looked down enjoying how small things looked from his lofty vantage point.  He could see Main Street, laid out as if it was on a toy train set.  A frequent weekend destination, he and his friends would ride their bikes downtown most weekends and buy airplane models, candy, and other cool stuff when they got their allowance.  He traced the streets back to his neighborhood and could just make out his elementary school far below.  He realized with a smile that he was supposed to be in school, but instead was flying far out of his teacher's reach.  

It must be recess he surmised, as the playground was full.  The kids playing outside were so small they were just little colored dots scurrying around the school yard.  On a whim, he headed down towards the school. As he got lower, he could make out his third grade buddies in their usual corner of the playground.  He sped silently towards them, the wind rushing past his ears, amazed that they were oblivious to his approach.  He pulled up at the last minute landing effortlessly on his feet in the middle of the group.  To say the least they were surprised.

He nodded at them and smiled, then stretched out his arms over his head in a classic Superman stance, then pushed off rocketing upwards again, their whoops and cheers fading quickly behind him.  He turned towards his house several blocks away.  As he approached, he could see someone laying on a lawn chair in the backyard.  He knew it had to be Andrea, his big sister, he grinned when he realized she must be skipping school, too.  She was laying on her back tanning, the straps of her swimsuit top pulled down to expose more skin.  Why anyone would lay around sweating in the sun was beyond him, but she was 16 and often did things that didn't make sense to him.

He carefully swooped down and landed as quietly as possible behind her.  She didn't seem to notice him, her eyes stayed closed against the bright sunlight.  He could hear music coming from the earphone plugged into her transistor radio; the one that seemed glued to her ear half the time.  He paused to stare at her partially exposed boobs.  For some reason that he couldn't explain, he loved looking at them.  The were big, round and looked like they'd be soft to touch.  
  
As he stared, he felt the butterflies starting in his tummy like they did every time he got a chance to look at her boobs.  His hand moved involuntarily to the front of his jeans, and he was tempted to stand behind her for a while just looking.  But, he thought better of it and decided to take off before she caught him staring and got mad.  So, he stretched his arms up and pushed off confidently.

This time taking off felt different, heavier.  He floated upwards as before, but barely cleared the neighbor's fence before he landed again.  With a sinking heart he knew that the flying was coming to an end, the ability gone as quickly as it had appeared.  He pushed off again stretching hard, this time only rising a few feet.  The next time he barely managed a hop.  

Desperation rising, he could feel himself slipping out of the dream and sleep.  Knowing it was fruitless, but trying anyway, he struggled to hold on to the scraps of dream as they slipped away.

Against his will, he felt himself transition into that place between slumber and wakefulness.  He was still immersed in the good feelings brought by the flying dream and could picture each moment, but at the same time was becoming more aware of the surroundings in his bedroom.  He lay there, fighting to fall back into the dream, but was lifted up and away by his wakening senses.  

The first awareness was of someone breathing softly close by; he could feel the breath as it brushed his cheek.  The next thing he was aware of was those butterflies again, stirring deep in his tummy.  These good feelings were something he was familiar with, so he concentrated on them as his mind still on the fringes of dreaming, drifted pleasantly back to his bath earlier that evening.

As long as he could remember, Andrea had been in charge of giving him his bath.  She was usually content to sit on the toilet while he splashed and played, reading a magazine or talking on the phone with a friend, the cord stretched to its limit from the hall.  Eventually she would sigh as if something had intruded on her time, stop what she was doing; tell him it was time to get clean; close the door and kneel by the tub.  At the sound of her sigh, he knew it was time for him to stop playing or face her disapproval.  She'd start by washing his hair, always careful not to get soap in his eyes; then have him stand while she soaped his back, butt and legs.  Next came the best part, the part that brought the butterflies.  

They always played the same game after he turned around to face her again, but they never acknowledged the game.  She'd soap his chest, tummy and arms, then she'd do the same for his legs working from bottom to top.  As she got close to his tummy, his heart would start thumping in anticipation.  Finally, she'd use her hand to soap his wiener carefully, always saying something like, "Gotta get everything squeaky clean."  With those words and her touch, the butterflies would start deep in his tummy and with the butterflies came a familiar stirring in his wiener or dick as some of his friends called it.

Once it started to harden, she'd pretend to ignore his wiener and work again on his tummy and upper legs, letting her hand or wrist brush across his wiener on the way past, never touching it directly.  Sometimes she'd wash from his tummy all the way down his leg accidentally running her arm from wrist to elbow across his wiener.  With each pass his wiener would grow stiffer and stiffer, eventually pointing up towards his chin.  

All the time she was soaping him, he'd try hard not to look at her, knowing that if he made eye contact she'd stop.  Andrea would continue her rubbing, humming to herself, sometimes letting her thumb or finger trace slowly along the underside of his stiffness starting underneath his tight ball sack tracing slowly to the tip of his wiener.  This usually caused his wiener to jump and his knees to buckle a little as the pleasure shot through him.  

Every once in a while she'd reach behind him with one hand and run her fingers up and down his butt crack, pressing them against his butt hole and rubbing in circles.  This always made him swallow hard as a funny lump would form in his throat as she pressed her soapy fingers against his tightly closed hole.  He had to work hard not to push back against her fingers as she continued to soap him back there. After a minute or two of shear pleasure, she'd say, "time to rinse off!" in an overly cheerful tone.  

He knew there was no sense in arguing or pleading.  They never talked about what was happening, never mentioned it at all.  It was as if there was an unwritten rule that they had to pretend it wasn't happening.  Besides, when Andrea told him to do something she expected him to do it, right then.  After all, she was eight years older than him.  So, he'd obediently sit down in the water and she'd rinse him off as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  As he sat there he enjoyed the warm water running down his back while watching his wiener slowly go limp.  It would eventually withdraw to its usual state, a little nub poking out from his groin above his tightly wrinkled sack, the foreskin a little flap of skin hanging off the tip.

Many nights the excitement from their bath play stayed with him.  So, after his bath and tucked tightly into bed he would listen carefully to make sure his little brother was asleep, then slowly push his hand into his pants.  With his eyes closed, he'd relive the bath game, letting the feelings flow over him, taking things to their natural conclusion.

Now he lay in the bed, fully awake but with his eyes tightly closed enjoying the butterflies.  He slowly became aware of other things:  a hand inside his pj's, softly working its way towards his wiener; the rustle of the sheets as the hand moved beneath them; the smell of clove gum on the breath as it brushed his cheek.  He made sure his eyes stayed tightly shut, not wanting to interrupt the good feelings that were starting to course through him.  The fingers found his wiener and it reacted to their touch by immediately hardening.  The fingers began to manipulate the foreskin up and down his little shaft. His wiener stiffened even more under the touch, eventually stretching to it's full length, pointing up towards his chin.  It was then he heard a familiar voice softly whisper, "that's my little man, there you go, that feels good doesn't it."  

At the sound of her voice his eyes involuntarily fluttered open.  As the darkened room came into focus, he could see Andrea silhouetted in the moonlight looking at the spot where her hand was moving under the sheet.  She was tall enough that her upper torso was well above the mattress of his top bunk, where she could easily reach beneath the sheets.  He meant to close his eyes before she saw him but her breasts encased in a white sweater and resting on the mattress caught his eye.  He stared at them in wonder as his little brother slept soundly beneath him in the bottom bunk.  

She must have felt his gaze, as she turned her eyes to his face.  Seemingly surprised to see his eyes open and looking at her, she pulled her had out from under the sheets as if it had been stung.    She stood there for a moment staring at him, indecision clear in her eyes.  He caught his breath and started to apologize, to beg her to continue, too sleepy to remember the unwritten rule.  As he opened his mouth to speak, she seemed to make up her mind.  Her eyes twinkled in the half light of the moon and she placed a finger over her lips, winked at him.  "Shhhhh," she whispered softly.

He lay back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, trying to stay still as she pulled the sheet and covers down.  Once his legs were exposed she hooked both thumbs under his waistband and gave it a tug.  He obediently raised his hips and she slowly slid his pj's towards his knees.  As she pulled them down, the waistband momentarily caught the tip of his erect wiener causing it to snap back against his belly with a small thump as it was released.  Andrea stifled a giggle as she pushed the pants down past his knees.

The night air felt cool on his skin and his wiener reacted with a little hiccup, twitching as if calling to Andrea's hand asking it to continue what it had started.  Instead, her hands disappeared out of sight, below his mattress.  He wondered what she was doing for a moment.  Then, she shifted a little.  To his surprise and amazement, her hands reappeared, dragging her sweater and the bra underneath up and around her neck, releasing her breasts to spill out, naked, onto the bed right next to him.  

He had tried many times, with little luck, to see them when she leaned over, wearing her nightgown or a loose t-shirt on weekend mornings.  All he ever saw were the tops, the rest making the outline pressing heavily against the fabric.  That didn't stop his imagination.  

When he rubbed himself at night, sometimes he would try to picture what they really looked like.  Never having seen them fully he had to fill in with his imagination.  The most he had seen was with stolen glances when she was sunning in the back yard.  Even with her top pulled down, at most half her breast was exposed.  Now they lay in front of him looking both everything and nothing like what he had imagined many nights while laying in bed after his bath.

They were large, firm and pale white just as he had imagined.  What he had not imagined were the large dark areolas surrounding nipples the size of pencil erasers.  She put her finger to her lips and winked a second time, then reached out and took his hand in hers.  She pulled it to her breasts and wordlessly showed him how to knead, rub and play with them.  As he began to explore on his own, she withdrew her hands and slid one down his belly to finally touch his beckoning wiener.  It was too small to wrap her hand around so she took it between her thumb and two fingers.

As he played with her breasts, the nipples began to harden.  His wiener reacted to her touch and the hardening nipples by arching back almost touching his belly, harder than it had ever been before.  As he rubbed and played with her breasts he naturally took a nipple between his fingers and began to gently squeeze, twist and roll it, more out of curiosity than an erotic impulse.  The feeling of the nipple in his fingers made him salivate and he wondered what it would feel like if he could put it in his mouth.  Andrea responded to the new sensation with a quick intake of breath closing her eyes before she let it out slowly, whispering, "Ohhhh, yessssss" as she exhaled. 

Up to that point, he had been able to lay still, knowing that at bath time when his knees buckled Andrea usually stopped their game.  But the sensations: her manipulations, the feel of her nipples, her breasts filling his gaze and her whispered encouragement; overwhelmed him.  He tensed his buns pressing his groin up into her fingers.  She responded by  moving her fingers in a swirling back and forth motion, pulling the foreskin down and exposing the head, then stretching it up the length of his wiener to cover the tip.  She repeated this motion again and again.  

He became aware that as she worked with the fingers of one hand, her other arm stayed below the mattress.  As he stared at his hands on her breasts he noticed that arm moving, sometimes pressing against the side of her breast.  It was as if she was rubbing her hand on her leg or something.  He wondered for a moment what she was doing, but was soon lost in the rising sense of urgency caused by her attention to his wiener and those beautiful breasts in his hands.

He realized that he was quickly reaching the point of no return, a feeling he knew well from many nights spent reliving the bath game alone in his bed.  As he humped urgently into her hand, his hands still on those miraculous breasts, he became aware of a new sound.  Andrea was staring blankly at her hand working on his wiener, quietly mewing.  This increased his sense of urgency and he felt his eyes glaze over too as he concentrated on the building feelings that were overtaking his whole body.  

He spread his legs and began humping up and down into her hand with increased urgency, focused on the coming release.  She followed his lead and moved her fingers to match his faster pace.  His breath was coming in ragged gasps as he thrust his hips.  Her mews became breathy and seemed to keep time with his gasps.  They were joined in ecstasy, their combined motion growing in urgency.

The sound of her voice whispering breathily, "Yesss, that's the way," was the only thing he heard as he fell over the edge.  He clinched his teeth and grunted, then held hs breath as he pressed hard up into her hand.  When the release arrived, he panted ragged breaths and came so hard that he saw stars for a minute.  He could feel his wiener bucking in her hand, going through the motions that one day would pump out cum, although at this age he knew nothing about cum; he only knew that this was absolutely the best feeling ever. 

As soon as the orgasm faded, he released her breasts and grabbed her hand with both of his to stop her motions.  A new sensitivity made what had been unbelievably wonderful a moment before almost painful.  Andrea took the cue and stopped rubbing.  He lay there panting, heart thundering in his head, eyes closed, working hard to swallow past the lump in his throat.  He could hear Andrea trying to catch her breath and smell the clove gum she liked to chew, her breath hot on his cheek.

He turned to face her, an overwhelming feeling of affection in his chest.  Wordlessly, she pulled her sweater down covering her breasts; then pulled the sheets and covers up, leaving his pj's at his knees.  The coolness of the sheets brushed his already shrinking wiener on the way past as she tucked them under his chin.  Once he was tucked in, she stretched up to kiss him on the forehead an affectionate gesture she had her to for not shared.  

Almost as if nothing had happened, she turned and slipped out of the room, with only a backward glance, little smile and a wink before she disappeared around the door frame.  He could hear her steps, softly padding on the bare wood floor as she made her way down the hall and to her bedroom.  Her door closed with a soft click.

He lay there in the moonlit room, the night sounds surrounding him, unaware of the time.  Was it the middle of the night or only a little while after he had fallen asleep?  He was aware of his heart still hammering, as he lay there stunned, trying to make sense of what had just happened, turning the events over and over in his mind.  Andrea had never acknowledged that she even knew the affect that their bath time games had on him; Never.

As he let the thoughts run through his mind, he turned on his side and drew his knees up enjoying the slightly naughty feeling of leaving his pj's halfway down under the sheets.  Closing his eyes, he started back at the beginning trying to commit each moment of the last ten minutes to memory.  As he recalled her breasts spilling out from under her sweater his wiener started to stiffen again.  He gave half a thought to rubbing it himself, but chose instead to drift off to sleep reliving Andrea's visit, hoping that it wouldn't be the last.




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