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    Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Boy Story: The Road Taken - 34. Have Some Pineapple

Have Some Pineapple

 

Sunday arrived like an earthquake. Parker had a hold of my right arm and was shaking me.

“Matt, wake up. We have to go to breakfast now,” he said with some urgency.

“Huh, wha…what time is it?” I tried.

“It’s 9:00 and we have to get to breakfast before they stop serving.”

“What about your mother and uh…uh…”

“Aunt Helen.”

“Oh right,” my brain wasn’t quite working yet.

“I went over to their room already. They said to meet them in the hallway in 15 minutes,” he elaborated.

I looked up at him. “Hey!”

“What?”

“You’re really cute,” I said.

“Stop it, now get up,” he started laughing.

“You want to go out with me sometime?” I joked.

“Yes, I want to go to breakfast right now!” he said as he whipped away the covers revealing my naked body.

“Oh no…later!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m talking to my dick,” he joked.

I quickly put on some clothes as Parker threw them at me from the drawers. I got up, went to the bathroom sink, and wet down my hair a little. I ran a brush through my mop to get it looking somewhat under control and took a swig off my mouthwash bottle and rinsed.

“There, now how many more minutes do I have?” I asked.

“About five,” he answered.

“Good.”

I pushed him up against the wall by leaning my body into his. Then I kept bringing my lips very near to his and teasing him by pulling away just before contact. A couple of times he tilted his head to receive the kiss, only to be rebuffed as I pulled away. Finally as I was holding my lips inches from his, he lurched forward connecting. For me, that was it. The teasing was over. I had to give in because Parker was the best kisser I’d ever experienced.

We made out until the girls knocked on the door. This was getting to be a regular habit. He pulled his lips off mine.

“OK, let’s go,” he directed as he opened the door and hung the Please Make Up Room sign.

As we all walked down to the elevators, I was suddenly very glad that Parker threw me a pair of jeans instead of a pair of shorts when he was helping me get dressed. All of that kissing had uninvited results. I now had a monster boner that I had to disguise, and shorts would not have concealed much.

I know I’ve stated repeatedly that Parker was the best kisser, the best at blow jobs, the best bottom, and an up-and-coming premier top. Surely, no one can be that good, right? I cannot tell a lie. Parker was all of that. We didn’t just have sex; it was an orgasm of the soul. Sometimes a guy can be cute but bad in bed...or not interested in going all the way...or has a small dick...or some kind of hang up. Parker was cute…and he had a smoking body that often left me speechless…and he was passionate about sex…and he was fun to be around…and he was smart…and he continuously rocked my world. I would often be left trying to reign in my nether regions from achieving full attention when I was around him. Not surprisingly, he was also one of the quickest cures for this situation.

But on the way to breakfast with his mother and aunt in attendance, I would just have to let the boner situation eventually correct itself. On the elevator, I discretely drew attention to the bulge in my pants to Parker.

He said, “Geez, Matt…” and giggled.

Of course, Ginny and Helen turned around to see what had Parker all riled up. Uh oh, time for damage control.

“What?” I asked trying to brush it off.

“That wasn’t you?” he inquired.

“Huh?” I wasn’t sure where he was going.

“Did you just fart?” he asked.

“Uh, no. That was my stomach growling.”

“OK, never mind.”

Problem averted. You can’t tell your mother and your aunt that your boyfriend currently has a hard-on. It’s just not cool in any context. Parker could be indiscrete like when he said “Geez” out loud. Fortunately, between the two of us, we were usually able to diffuse the situation with a little…uh, creative…alliteration.

Well, the full breakfast at the hotel restaurant was buffet style. And it was a good one with everything from an omelet station to smoked salmon. After I sat down, Parker sat across from me and placed a bowl of freshly cut pineapple in front of me.

“This is for you,” he explained.

“Oh, thanks,” I replied not understanding the significance.

“I want you to eat it all.”

“Uh, OK. Why is that?”

“It’s just a little experiment.”

I waited for him to elaborate, “Well, aren’t you going to explain?”

“Oh, well I’ve heard that if a guy eats a lot of pineapple, the next time he comes, it will be pineapple flavored.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. That’s what I heard.”

“Really?…And you will be the judge?”

“Of course.”

“OK, I’m in.”

“In for what?” Aunt Helen asked as she and Ginny arrived at the table.

“Uh, we were just discussing our plans for the day,” Parker explained.

“Well, I hope it includes some pool time because that’s why we’re here…sun…and fun.”

“Sure. Hey, do you guys have a tub in your room too or did we get a special room?” Parker asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got a tub, right Gin?”

Parker’s mother was in mid coffee sip and just shook her head in the affirmative.

“Not that we’ll need a tub with that nice big shower.”

“Oh, the tub was nice…big enough for two,” Parker informed her.

“You little devils,” Helen laughed. Ginny just shook her head in mock disgust.

While we were chowing down, Ginny had a large envelope with all the goodies and filled us in on the details.

“We are all on the DisneyWorld meal plan. This means we get two meals and two snacks covered every day at nearly any restaurant or food stand in Disney. Since we'll be eating breakfast at the hotel each morning, this arrangement makes the most sense. Now, we voted previously to do the Magic Kingdom on Monday, EPCOT on Tuesday, and Disney/MGM Studios on Wednesday, so that’s the game plan starting tomorrow.”

She opened the envelope and started handing out things.

“This card—with Cinderella’s Castle on it—allows you admission to the parks...one park each day for three days. Keep this card with you at all times in the parks. Also one of you,” she said looking at me, “keep the receipts with you when you are in the parks. If for some reason you lose your card, you can get a replacement as long as you have the receipt.”

Parker was sitting across from me and had slipped off one of his sandals and began running his toes up inside my pant leg under the table. I glared at him, but he pretended like nothing was out of the ordinary, except the slightest bit of a grin that said “chill out.”

“This second card with food pictured on it is your meal card. Keep this with you at all times as well. If you forget it, you won’t be able to eat. We should all plan on eating breakfast and dinner together as a group. We will go to the parks together, but if you two want to go off on your own, you can do your own thing, but don’t forget lunch and snacks are covered. Now remember, I have dinner reservations for 6:30 each night at some of the nicer restaurants in the parks, so always be mindful of the time.”

“Aunt Helen and I are going to head down to the pool after breakfast. You two can join us or do whatever you like.”

“I think Matt and I are going to hang out in the room for a bit and then go down to the pool at around 11:00. You shouldn’t go swimming right after you’ve had a meal,” Parker explained.

When we were through eating, we all went back upstairs to our rooms for a bit. We were in luck as the maid had finished with us. Parker and I lay down on the bed and cuddled. We both fell back to sleep in each other’s arms. This seemed better to me than lounging outside by the pool in the sun where we’d have to lounge separately.

I woke up after about 35 minutes. Parker’s face was inches away right in front of me and he was sleeping. I just stared at his face, memorizing the lines and the curves of his features. I could admire his beauty forever and not get tired of observing him in his peaceful silence. I closed my eyes and listened to his breathing. I wondered if he was dreaming. I hoped he was... and I was in it.

The next thing I knew, I was awoken by someone playing with my chest hair. He saw my eyes open. I just smiled.

“You know, usually I’m not into chest hair, but I really like yours. You have the chest of a boy who has just reached puberty and is getting his first chest hair,” he stated.

“Well, I’ve actually had mine for a while,” I informed him.

“I know, but it’s downy soft and not too filled in. I really like it. But when the pants come off, it’s obvious you’re no boy.”

“You mean I’m a girl?” I joked.

“No, you are a man, a young man with a large, beautiful, hot cock.”

“You mean my Johnson?” I added with a smirk.

“Yes, Johnson…dick, weiner, willy, peter…you ever notice that there are a lot of guys names used for a man’s rod. Hey, Rod can be a guy’s name too!”

“You know what's a tragedy?” he asked me.

“No, what?”

“A tragedy is a hot guy with an ugly dick,” he declared.

“An ugly dick?” I questioned.

“Yeah, sometimes I like a guy, but it turns out he has an ugly cock. I think ‘what a waste of a hot guy!’ There are really cute guys out there with small dicks or curved dicks or dicks with pee holes in the wrong place or small cock heads or foreskins that are too tight or just misshaped ones…and I wonder why didn’t they get hot dicks too?”

“Luck of the draw, I guess,” I replied.

“Yeah, but it’s like why go through all the trouble of making this guy totally hot and give him a 3" unit? What kind of God would do that?”

“One with a sense of irony, perhaps?” I quipped.

“Hey, I almost forgot. I think it’s time for my pineapple passion shake,” he realized.

“Already? How long does it take to work,” I asked.

“THAT, I don’t know…but maybe it’s time we find out,” he concluded as he crawled toward me and unbuttoned my pants and unzipped me. I then helped him get my pants off by reorienting my body in various positions as he tugged on them. By the time he got to my underwear, I was already stiff.

“Your dick must have ESP,” he joked.

“ESP? Oh, you mean extra sized penis?” I shot back.

“Ha ha ha, yeah!” Parker enthused.

He wasted little time in treating my member to an oral massage. He had it down to a science: a combination of mouth action with tongue swirls and deep throating, with breaks of licking up and down including my balls, all the while stroking me when my cock wasn’t down his throat. Then he knew instinctively when to increase the suction. I was soon in heaven again with my toes curling as I fought off ejection as long as I could.

I believe I groaned, “Oh fuck!” twice before my body convulsed and I exploded into his eager mouth.

He returned an “Mmmmmmmm” as he slurped it all up.

Once I regained my composure, I said, “So how was it?”

He got up to grab a towel and returned to the bed wiping his mouth area which was still wet with fluid. “It was incredibly tasty, but no pineapple. Maybe it’s just an old wives’ tale.”

“Or maybe we just didn’t wait long enough,” I suggested.

“Or eat enough," Parker added. He gave a long sigh, "I’m kinda sticky. Let’s take a shower before we head down to the pool, OK?"

“Sure. We have to rinse off before we go in the pool anyway,” I mentioned.

So we showered as we always did. I washed him and then he washed me. His soft, smooth, wet skin was glistening as the warm water ran over it. I couldn’t help but to embrace his naked, wet beauty and to hold onto him. He was a little surprised at first, but then he turned around so we were face to face and he wrapped himself around me as well. We didn’t say a word. We just held each other and stood under the warm shower.

And then it happened. I should have known. Holding all of him with my hands was beginning to turn me on...again.
I got hard and my state didn’t escape being noticed.

“Good one, Matty Boy. What’s up with you today? You’re really horny.”

I couldn’t quite explain the situation in words. I didn’t want to have sex. We just had sex and it was great. But I was turned on like when a teenager looks at a Penthouse magazine or something. I guess I was titillated by the cute, naked boy in the shower, and my body was simply responding. I didn’t even want it to.

“See, that’s what I mean when I say that you’re my Kryptonite,” I began. “I am powerless to control my bodily reactions when I am around you. I kiss you and I get hard. I shower with you and I get hard. Sometimes I just think about you and I get hard. It’s not that I’m horny, it’s just that you turn me on…regardless of the circumstance.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. If we’re boyfriends, we should turn each other on, right?“ Parker replied.

“Absolutely!” I agreed.

“You turn me on all the time, too. You know like when I attack you?”

“He he, yeah.”

“I think you have the hottest cock I’ve ever seen. So if you want to get blown seven times a day, I certainly won’t complain. Or if you want to walk around with a hard-on, you shouldn’t feel obligated to have sex again,” he explained as he tapped my boner with his hand making it spring up and down. “It’s enjoyable just to look at.”

“OK, let’s just try to get dressed and go down to the pool without having sex again,” I directed.

So we went about changing for the pool. We would need shirts so we wouldn’t get burned (plus the hotel probably wouldn’t like us walking through the lobby shirtless), swim suits, sun screen, and sandals or some sort of flip-flops. We also decided to wear light sweat pants because we didn’t want to eat lunch at the pool side café wearing only bathing suits.

When we finally made it to the pool to join the girls, it was certainly pool weather—sunny and humid and nearly 90 degrees. My first instinct was to jump right in the pool, but then I remembered to apply moisture resistant sunscreen first or I’d regret it. I took my shirt and sweat pants off and asked Parker to apply the sunscreen to my back. Then we swapped.

Parker removed his shirt and sweats and I started doing his back. I saw a bit of the back of his swimsuit.

“Parker, what are you wearing?”

“Huh?”

“What are these?” I asked pulling the waistband and letting it snap back.

“Oh, they’re jammers. It’s what everyone wears now on swim teams. I have two pairs that I swap off.”

“Oh, I thought they made everyone wear Speedos for swimming.”

“These are Speedos. It’s the brand name, but I know what you mean…the banana hammocks,” he deduced.

“Yeah, those.”

“Well, the divers do still have to wear the micro briefs, but the rest of us wear jammers now. C’mon, let’s go in the pool!” he announced as I finished with his shoulders. As he got up and walked toward the pool, I thought I was going to pass out. Those jammers looked like they were painted on. I breathlessly watched as his round rump globes flexed and relaxed repeatedly all the way to the pool as if he had nothing on.

“C’mon, Matt!” he called out from the pool seeing that I hadn’t moved.

I got up and hustled myself and my standard swim trunks to the pool to join him. Once we were in the water, his boy parts were better camouflaged, so I was relieved. Parker went on to demonstrate the swimming strokes he routinely performed on the team. He told me he was best at the backstroke where he set a new pool record last season. The backstroke? It even sounds erotic. I should have known. Then he went on to demonstrate the butterfly or “fly” and the freestyle which was an adaptation of the one stroke I knew—the crawl. Wow, I was impressed at his swimming proficiency, but I guess I should have expected it with all those trophies in his room.

He attempted to teach me the fly. He explained the leg kick, the motion of the arms and hands, and the positioning of the body. I attempted it, but I just couldn’t get the leg motion right and I’d sink.

“That’s alright, Parker. You tried your best. I guess I wasn’t cut out to be a star swimmer,” I finally relented.

“Hmm, I guess some of us are born swimmers and some of us are born anchors,” he said as he pushed me under the water and climbed up sitting on my shoulders when I stood up. He asked me to stand still and he wound himself around me until he was standing on my shoulders. I stood as still as possible and he jumped off my shoulders into the pool.

“Parker, don’t injure yourself or Matthew before we even get to the parks!” his mother called over to us.

“Don’t worry, we’re being careful,” he shouted back.

So we played around in the water some more doing hand stands and diving under. We ended with a rousing version of let’s try to drown Matt with Parker tackling me under water and then jumping on me. And last but not least, the pool had a pretty decent twisty water slide, which we rode multiple times.

“OK, Parker, I think I’ve had enough,” I decided. “Look,” I showed him my seriously shriveled fingers.

“All right. Do you want to sit in the sun or the shade?” he asked.

“Why don’t we start in the sun until we dry off. Then we can move,” I proposed.

We got out of the pool and now we had Parker walking around in that suit again. Sure, a pair of jammers might be perfectly commonplace in swimming competitions, but in with the general public, it looked more to me like a twink stripper show. Yes, he was wearing a swimsuit with longer pant legs, but when everything is surrounded in skin-tight material, what isn’t seen may as well be. I could almost tell that Parker was uncircumcised under there. I had to do something fast before this went too much further. Looking upon him in that suit should be an arrestable offense.

“Hey, Parker, put on your shirt and sandals and let’s go for a walk,” I suggested. He did as I asked and followed my lead. I had an idea. We went to the health club that overlooked the pool area under the guise of “taking a tour” of the facility. I stopped in front of a bank of windows to look out on the pool area.

“Look at all the crazy people down there,” he joked as that’s where we just came from.

“Yup. In fact, take a really good look,” I began. “Scan across each group and each single guy and look at every men’s swimsuit down there.” So he spent a few minutes perusing the crowd below.

“OK,” he knew I was going somewhere with this.

“OK, so you got a good sampling of male swimsuits?”

“Yup.”

“OK, now take off your shirt…” He was wearing his shirt unbuttoned so I helped him out of it, so he’d more readily comply. “Now, turn around and look in that mirror.”

“Duh, it’s me.”

“Look closely.”

“Ahhhh…I believe I see your point.”

“When you wear that suit around the pool, I want to drag you in the bushes and fuck your brains out. The problem is, every other guy who might have a passing interest in fucking a cute young...well, you...is thinking that also. Like that guy down there in the white hat (there was an older gentleman with a white safari hat and a beer belly) or the guy over there with the handlebar mustache, pony tail, and scary tattoos. By walking around in that suit, you might be unintentionally sending a message that you simply don’t wish to convey to all of the wrong people. If it turns me on, it will turn on every closeted guy in visual range.”

“But this is all I have to swim in.”

“You know the gift shop with all the T-shirts in the gallery downstairs?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I noticed that they also sell swim trunks. Just get one that looks reasonable and you are good to go. If you don’t have money, I’ll pay for it.”

“I have money. I just have to go back up to the room first to get it,” he informed me. “But first we have to go back to the pool because I have to get my sweatpants.”

We got our sweats back on and went up to the room. Parker got his wallet, and we went down to the shop. He looked through all of the men’s swim trunks until he found one. “How about this one?”

“Yeah, I like that one.” I looked at the price tag of $35. Now that seemed a bit steep for a pair of swim trunks…BUT we were buying it at Disney and it was less than what he paid for the stripper shorts he was wearing.

“Now we just have to find it in my size.”

“What size are you?” I asked looking at the sizing chart.

“28 waist.”

“Seriously? You just barely made it on the sizing chart. That’s a men’s extra small!”

“Yeah, sometimes I have to go to boys’ sizes.”

I had to laugh.

“What?”

“You know how some people say ‘that makes me feel so old’?”

“What do you mean?”

“I never would have guessed that I'd be 20 years old and have a boyfriend wearing boys’ sizes.”

“Well, I can’t help it!”

“No, I like it. It’s cute. Now let’s find it in your size, so we can go to lunch before they stop serving.”

Parker purchased the swim trunks in men's extra small. Then we went to the poolside lunch place at about 1:30. They had all sorts of grilled items from hamburgers to chicken. I motioned to Parker where I’d be sitting because he was still waiting for his burger as I walked by. When he caught up with me, he sat down with his tray and placed a bowl of pineapple in front of me.

I remember seeing a big mixed fruit bowl in the food line. I thought it was really sweet that he took the time to pull out only the pineapple chunks and fix a bowl for me. OK, I know it was for his benefit in the end, but it was sweet.

Once we were done eating, he insisted on going back to the room to put the new trunks on. Good idea. So I sat on the bed and watched intently as he peeled off the jammers. He saw me watching and he wiggled his hips a little to air out his equipment…and to torture me.

“My, my, my. Come over here baby,” I heard myself say.

He ventured toward me.

“Since we have to wait a little longer for me to get flavored up, I think it’s time for me to sample your recipe,” I told him.

“Well, I’m not going to be able to give you pineapple flavor either,” he advised me.

“It doesn’t matter because I like original Parker flavor just fine.”

I got down on my knees as he was standing there completely naked. His thermometer was slowly rising, so I gently held him in my hand to encourage it. That seemed to do the trick as it rose right up and his foreskin fully retracted. I made love to his wonderful love knob kissing all around the shaft. I touched my tongue to his pee hole and pulled the foreskin forward over my tongue. Then I wiggled my tongue around inside the foreskin rapidly and that got him squeaking.

When the sex was great, Parker moaned. When the sex was beyond great, he squeaked. It was always my aim to get him squeaking before we wrapped things up. It’s not always easy to reach beyond great, but I’d enjoy trying…and so did he.

One thing I did notice with uncircumcised guys was that since the foreskin covers the penis head most of the time, once the foreskin is pulled back, the head is super sensitive. With us circumcised guys, the penis head is always exposed and rubs against clothing all day long. Over time, the constant contact desensitizes the penis a bit and it will usually take a little more time to get a circumcised guy off. I guess you could consider that a cure if you’re a premature ejaculator.

The times I could get Parker to squeak usually involved my tongue and his exposed head. The most important thing to remember is that it’s not a race. If you really, really like the guy you are with and you really, really like his boy spigot, then you’ll want to make it last as long as you can. I’d just let Parker dictate the length of engagement by trying to read where he was and where he needed to go. If he squeaks, then do what will make him squeak more. With Parker, it was kiss kiss, lick lick, suck suck, fun with foreskin, suck with added hand, add some occasional ball play, head for the big finish, squirt squirt, yum yum. That’s sort of the short-hand version.

As for the output…I really had acquired a taste for his seed. I guess I stopped thinking of it as unpleasant bodily discharge and began thinking of it more like this is his essence. This is what his DNA tastes like and I want it. I’d gather up all of the pictures in my head of his pretty smiling face, his cute butt, his ample uncut cock, his heaving ball sack, his tight boy hole, and everything that makes him Parker…and now I get to find out what that tastes like. Heaven.

x

x

© 2014 Rip Skor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Interesting to see Matt being jealous. Or was he just concerned for Parker's safety?

 

I'm not sure I would want pineapple tasting spunk... LOL Would seem weird somehow, but a fun experiment.

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On 03/20/2016 12:13 AM, Puppilull said:

Interesting to see Matt being jealous. Or was he just concerned for Parker's safety?

 

I'm not sure I would want pineapple tasting spunk... LOL Would seem weird somehow, but a fun experiment.

Ha ha, Matt is afraid that Parker will turn up missing. It's like at the zoo where they tell you not to tease the wild animals.

 

Too bad chocolate doesn't end up as a flavoring, but that might put Hershey's out of business.

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So endearing.  It’s true that diet does affect the taste of one’s spunk.  Try comparing after broccoli or asparagus (booooooo) with pineapple (yummmmmm).  

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Another great Chapter, the scene in which Matt makes Parker buy a new outfit for swimming made me laugh slightly.

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