Boys Will Be Boys - Their First Time

by Mickey Erlach

Adrian could feel his juices pushing toward freedom, and he pulled the boy to him as he met him thrust for thrust. Finally, in a last thrashing, pushing, rending shove, the Prince cried out and spilled his young seed into Adrian, who shot a bolt of semen across his and the chest of the wonderful boy. They floated slowly down to earth as Xenephon licked the milk of love from Adrian’s chest. It was a moment to cherish forever. Afterward, the two young men nestled in each other’s arms and dozed until early morn when the Prince took him again. The two climbed toward the summit together, and their climax was the pinnacle of Adrian’s experience.

  As the hours and days went by, their fondness for one another grew to a tender and often blazing love. For weeks, they did not leave the Prince’s apartments.

  Food was brought in to them, but often went untouched as they tasted the feast of love. The boy was an excellent instructor and found an apt and eager pupil in the ravenous Adrian. Twice during the weeks of their “honeymoon,” Xenephon brought some of his friends over and treated Adrian to an orgy of new delights even the carvings on the wall were unable to portray. Usually the young men who visited them came in pairs, but didn’t hesitate to switch partners. Fun and Greek games! Sometimes they would form a daisy chain and enjoy a mass blow job. There was something incredibly exciting about doing it in a group with equal interests. Adrian liked them all and found that each tasted different and had different and often kinky methods to their madness.

  Above all, as in the games, Xenephon was the best.

  The year of their passion flew by. But all good things must end, and finally, in a lavish parting ceremony, Adrian bid farewell to Xenephon, who sailed away to his princess.

  Adrian was desolate. No one could console him.

  Menelaus patted him on the back and offered him a replacement for the adorable Xenephon, but at the moment, Adrian felt there was no being on earth who could take the place of his beloved.

  Helen hung around him and kissed him a little more than gently on the cheek. She whispered something about “a roll in the hay,” but Adrian was too preoccupied with his own grief to notice.

  He wandered the halls with his head drooping and his very soul in torment. He came at last to their room.

  He thought of all the wonders that had been performed there, and as he gazed at the bas relief on the wall, he sighed a deep sigh.

  Suddenly he heard a scurrying of feet. He turned toward the window. There was no breeze, yet the heavy curtains were moving in a most mysterious way.

  Beneath them, he could see sandaled feet sticking out.

  “Who’s there?” demanded Adrian.

  “Shh. Not so loud. Ya want to get me killed?” came a muffled voice from the draperies. Then a handsome blond head peeked out. “I’m Paris.”

  “Not the Paris?” Adrian exclaimed in a whisper.

  The Prince winked at Adrian. “Is there more than one?”

  Adrian shrugged, but even in the curtained shadows, he could see that Paris, the chosen of the gods, was as beautiful as his legend.

  The famous troublemaker whispered again, “Hey, man, you’re kinda cute, ya know.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you’re gorgeous!”

  “Maybe we should get together as soon as I get out of this mess,” Paris offered.

  “What mess?”

  “Troy and Sparta have been arch enemies for centuries. My ship got smashed on those damned rocks, and I’m the only survivor. I made my way up the river, and here I am. If they catch me, it’s curtains for ol’ Paris.”

  Adrian thought for a moment. Then an idea struck him.

  “What we need is a hostage. I’m going with you, beautiful. Let’s see ... who’d make a good hostage?”

  Just then, Adrian spied Queen Helen coming around the corner. She headed in their direction.

  “Adrian, honey,” she called out. “I’ve been looking for you. How about a roll in the hay?”

  Adrian pretended he didn’t hear the remark. “How about the Queen?” suggested Adrian.

  “Now there’s a history making idea,” agreed the Prince of Troy with a look toward the approaching Queen.

  “Who’s he?” demanded the Queen, glaring at the handsome prince.

  “Helen, I’d like you to meet Paris. Paris, Helen.”

  “Hi there,” said Paris.

  “Paris? A Trojan?” yelped the Queen. “I’ll get the guards. Menelaus will have his head!”

  “Helen, cool it,” admonished Adrian.

  “Oh very well, he’s safe for now. But how about you and me have a little romp in yon hay?” she asked pointing toward the nearby bed.

  “But your majesty, not in front of our guest,” gasped the shocked Adrian Metropolis.

  “Matters not,” returned the Queen. “Ya got a cute little bod and I want it.”

  “What about Menelaus?” inquired Adrian.

  “You mean his fuckin’ Royal Impotence? He couldn’t get it up for me if his crown depended on it,” the Queen scowled a queenly scowl. “I’ve tried everything. I mean everything! I’ve twirled and stoked and sucked it. I even sat on it and did a three-hundred sixty degrees.”

  “Maybe ...” Adrian tried to suggest.

  Helen went on unimpeded; growing angrier with every word. “Oh, he’s horny enough for that heel, Achilles. I peeked through the door at those two one night. I couldn’t believe it,” she said to the fascinated pair.

  “Can you imagine, Menelaus was fucking Achilles in the armpit!”

  Adrian winked at Paris. “Oh, the old armpit caper.”

  The Queen turned her baby blues on Adrian and batted her eyelashes. “Come on Adrian, just a quickie?” she pleaded.

  Adrian put a hand to his forehead. “I’ve got a headache. How about Paris here?”

  Helen of Sparta – soon to be Helen of Troy – .she was the original jet-setter – spat a mighty spit. “A Trojan? They’re poison! Besides ... they’re all fags!”

  “They are?” beamed Adrian at Paris.

  The Prince of Troy winked at Adrian then said impatiently, “Say folks, while we’re standing here playing with ourselves, the net’s closin’ in on ol’ Paris.”

  “Helen,” said Adrian excitedly. “Time’s a wastin’ look ...” then resignedly he made the sacrifice. “Look, I’ll give you a roll in the hay that’ll knock yer socks off if you’ll help me rescue Paris here.”

  Helen gave him a suspicious look. “Now wait a minute. I thought this Trojan pansy and I were the only queens in this room. Are you sure you won’t pull a Menelaus on me.”

  “Who me? Of course not,” smirked Adrian.

  The Prince of Troy smiled. He could see Adrian’s fingers were crossed behind his back.

  “I’ll do most anything for a good lay,” admitted the Queen. She thought for a moment. “We can take my barge. We’ll dress this Trojan turd in one of my frocks and smuggle him aboard as one of my hand maidens.”

  The Queen worked quickly. She gathered her staff, and within a short time, they had enough provisions loaded aboard the elegant barge for a month’s cruise.

  Adrian had to admit, Paris looked adorable in drag, though his broad shoulders did make him look a bit bull-dykish.

  About six hours out in the Sea of Crete, Adrian’s conscience began to bug him. Finally, he decided he should give the Queen her due. He knocked at her cabin door.

  “Go away!” came a pained moan from within.

  “But Queenie, what about our roll in the hay?”

  “I’m sick. I said I’d do anything for a lay. But, I hate ships, water and voyaging. Just wait ‘til I get you on dry land, you little squirt. Now go away and let me suffer in peace.”

  Adrian sighed a great sigh of relief and moved his nifty little bod back to the ship’s stern. He looked out toward the disappearing coast of Sparta. It was great to be alive, but he was lonely. Where was the lovely Paris? Oh, that’s right, Paris had KP duty.

  Just then he felt strong muscular arms reach around him from behind and press him gently agains
t a broad chest. Sweet scented breath fanned his face as the Prince of Troy whispered in his ear, “Alone at last.”

  Adrian sighed as the Prince reached inside his robe and caressed his athletic chest. His able fingers touched and teased Adrian’s nipples until he moaned with delight. Finally, the Prince turned Adrian to him. The young New York Greek could see that Paris had exchanged his dress for a loin cloth that showed off his brawny body to perfection. Adrian stood back and gazed in wonder at the choice of Aphrodite. His eyes lingered for a moment on the protruding crotch covering. Next, they traveled slowly up the muscled abdomen, then on to the broad chest with its protruding pecs and large tantalizing nipples.

  Finally he came to the face. In the fading sun, he saw the glory of the gods revealed to him. Deep brown eyes gazed into his while the Prince’s full sensual lips smiled the cutest smile Adrian had ever seen.

  Adrian was drawn toward the lips as Paris took him in his arms and pressed their two bodies close. They could both feel their young manhood pulsating against one another. The glorious lips came closer and closer until they touched his. Adrian felt as if he was drowning in a sea of indescribable tenderness. The Prince’s tongue crept from between parted lips and searched Adrian’s for the surest way to passion. The kiss went on and on. It lingered, was given and returned for what seemed an eternity. As those profound moments in time passed, the Prince withdrew slightly so that he might study Adrian’s face. The faint perfume of cloves warmed his face as the Prince whispered his name over and over.

  “Adrian ... Adrian ... Adrian, I love you, my Adrian.”

  Adrian had never known such bliss. This was his destiny, the moment for which he’d been born. His heart nearly burst with the adoration that filled it, and as the young Prince of Troy took him by the hand and led him into the seclusion of stacked provisions, he sighed a blissful sigh.

  They lay close together on a pallet of straw. Paris held Adrian close and caressed, and touched and kissed him. Finally, he took Adrian’s hand, and with a moan thrust it into the folds of his loin cloth.

  Adrian almost fainted dead away. In his hand was the biggest cock he’d ever felt, and he’d felt many of them. The shaft had to be nearly nine inches long and Adrian’s tongue grew hard as he caressed it. Then he felt Paris take his own throbbing hard-on. Adrian once again considered how man was perfectly designed for making love. In the classic sixty-nine position –or as the Greeks refer to it, the zeta-omega position – erect cocks curved perfectly over the arc of the tongue. The cocks slid smoothly on a lubrication of saliva, and the lips could be contracted or expanded to meet any contingency. All the other modes seemed equally convenient. A cock in the ass was held firmly, yet allowed plenty of room for any size horn and a cushy tush felt good on the ol’ gonads. Or if one did it face-to-face, one could sit in the lap of his lover and wrap his legs around his partner, and they could kiss and adore one another to their heart’s content. All these thoughts, combined with the talented workings of Paris mouth, carried Adrian closer and closer to the brink. At last he could hold on no longer. The Prince could sense the moment was near and thrust his phallus deeper and faster until they were thrashing and throbbing in rhythm. Finally they came together. What bliss! What rapture!

  After drinking one another dry, they turned and held each other. The kissed and adored and fondled one another in turn. And so their idyll continued for weeks on the Aegean Sea.

  At length, almost sadly, the coast of Troy hove into view. The trio’s arrival was celebrated with great rejoicing. King Priam and his Queen Hecuba greeted their long lost and presumed dead son with open arms.

  There was some consternation at the sight of Menelaus’s wife, Queen Helen. Paris’ sister, the great prophetess Cassandra, pulled her robe over her head and ran around bare-assed, crying, “We’re doomed! We are surely doomed!” As usual, no one paid any attention to her.

  Helen tried her damnedest to resign herself to being surrounded by the poisonous Trojans.

  Nothing dampened the great celebration that evening.

  It was an orgy of food and drink. Most of the court, including Paris, finally passed out. Helen who had an enormous capacity for booze, ended up feeling all tittely. Whereas Adrian, who followed his grandmother’s advice of moderation in all (or nearly all) things, sipped his wine and giggled as he watched Troy’s royalty go under, one at a time.

  He was disappointed that Paris also succumbed to the God of Wine, but before he had much time to worry about that, he saw Helen approaching. She had a predatory look in her eye, and he knew his time had come. Panic seized him as she lay down on his two-man (or two-women, or man and woman) sized couch and pressed her luscious lips to his. He felt smothered.

  The sensation was not unpleasant, however.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, you little squirt!” She panted as she rolled on her back and pulled him on top of her. Adrian’s mind was in turmoil. “Come on Adrian, a bargain’s a bargain,” admonished the Queen.

  Adrian had never done it with a woman before, and though he had a vague idea, it was all from clinical pictures he’d seen. He actually wasn’t sure which end was up.

  He reached with trembling hand toward Helen’s crotch, and she pulled her robe aside to give him better access. He found a patch of curly hair, and as he dallied further, he discovered a tantalizingly damp hole. Surprise, surprise. He stuck his middle finger into it and found it warm and wet. Toward the top he discovered a teeny little weeny. He have it a twirl and Helen let out a delighted snort and moaned, “Yes, Adrian. Yes ... yes ... caress my clit. Oh, you are soooooo goooood!” She pulled open the cleavage of her gown and exposed the two great moons of her bosom. Her red nipples beckoned to Adrian.

  “Momma, momma,” he groaned as he pressed sucking kisses on her blossoming buds.

  She squealed and reached for Adrian’s now throbbing cock. Adrian, who had a great deal of imagination for things erotic, could hardly wait to press his pulsating prick into her cavernous pussy.

  Finally, he poised over her for just a moment and then plunged into her wet well. Helen let out a screech of ecstasy and grabbed his little ass as he started to pump. He pushed his cock all the way in as she wrapped her shapely legs around his back. She whimpered and moaned with pleasure.

  With each thrust, Adrian plummeted deeper, and as he pulled back, he ran the bulbous head of his throbbing cock over the hardened tip of Helen’s clit. And how she loved it!

  “Oh, Adrian! You are the best! The very best!” she cried.

  He road her far into the morning, and as he traveled his new highway, it occurred to him that it felt almost as good as Paris’ mouth. And there were no teeth to get in the way.

  Finally, Helen grabbed him by is curly hair and screamed as a wrenching climax tore through her body.

  The excitement of the new adventure and empathy with Helen’s ardor brought Adrian to fulfillment at the same time. He had to admit it was good – better than he’d ever thought it would be to do it with a female. He resolved then and there to enjoy both possible worlds. Naturally he wasn’t about to give up the lovely Paris, but this new stuff was all right!

  * * * * *

  Weeks and months passed with Adrian leading a double life. Each night the adorable Paris brought Adrian new joys and pleasures. Then when they had flown through all the avenues of passion, Paris would, like any normal being, fall into a deep sleep. Adrian wasn’t quite so normal. In fact, now that the ancient Greeks had shown the way, he was insatiable. While Paris slept he would steal down the hall to the waiting arms of Horny Helen.

  Everything went just beautifully until that fateful night Paris awoke to find himself alone. Suspecting foul play, he rose and scurried down the hall to Helen’s room. He opened the door very softly and peered in. Sure enough, across the room he could just make out someone’s pumping ass in the moonlight. The ass looked familiar, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see it was indeed the beautiful buns of his loving companion, Adrian.

  Par
is hesitated not a moment, but flung open the door and rushed to the bed. The Trojan prince was furious and gave Adrian a swat on his bare, pumping ass.

  Adrian turned and gave Paris a big grin, while the Queen glared at the Prince.

  “Come on in. The fuckin’s fine,” invited Adrian.

  The Prince hesitated, but he was naked and when Helen got a look at his majestic and erect tool, she made a grab for it.

  “Yum, yum, yum, let me suck your lollypop, Prince,” she crooned.

  Helen sucked Paris’s big member while Paris kissed and caressed Adrian. Adrian, in turn, fucked the hell out of Helen. The three of them began to enjoy each other’s company in and out of bed. They joked and played the whole day long. One of their favorite bedtime pastimes was Adrian in front and Paris giving it to Helen in the back side. She loved the game, and she loved her two fellas.

  * * * * *

  A couple of things happened at the same time: Helen discovered she was pregnant, and the invading Spartan Army pulled the “Great Wooden Horse Caper.”

  Cassandra warned the populace against accepting the Greeks peace offering. For once, at least Paris listened.

  He and his two roomies were on hand when the horse was brought ceremoniously into the city. They watched while the celebrants became blotto, and the trio sat horrified and silent as a squad of Spartan soldiers stole out of the horse and let in the army.

  While the Spartans sacked and pillaged and raped the Trojans, the great horse was left unattended. Paris helped Helen and Adrian inside and with a crow bar got the great animal rolling toward the main gates.

  The Prince of Troy jumped aboard as the horse rolled out of the gates, down the beach and into the surf.

  It was well constructed and floated out with the ebbing tide. Out they went past the thousand ships, which ironically, had brought the Spartan army to rescue Helen, and on into the open Aegean Sea.

  The next day, Paris rigged a sail, and they proceeded through the Dardanelles, across the narrow sea to a deserted stretch of Grecian coastline. There they built a cozy cottage for the expectant Helen.