Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
Well, Tommy's house wasn't a "ranch" exactly but it WAS out in the country. Because of his mother's love of horses, they had moved onto a five-acre lot that included a barn and fenced-in pasture. She'd had a horse, for awhile, but found it more work than fun. Now the barn had only one use, besides winter storage of the family's rider mower. It was the perfect place for Tommy's Famous Spanking Parties. More about those later!
Tommy drove directly home from the curbside incident, figuring Kevin might want to wash up a little. He knew no one would be home at this hour at his house. Kevin knew it too. Going there now opened exciting new vistas in both boys' hormone-lit imaginations.
Kevin had more or less glowered all the way there, pissed or pretending to be pissed at Tommy for his not keeping the car stocked with tissues. The Arby's cup DID save a mess on his shirt or pants, but Kevin was NOT too fond of the idea of Tommy's getting that involved in his whacking off. Usually - after the two boys shared spankings or talked about exciting things like Tommy's day at school today, Kevin would go off to get off, on his own. He definitely preferred it that way.
Now, though, the idea that Tommy had deterred him from his usual plan was mostly an excuse for some mock punishment - not that Kevin had ever needed an excuse to spank Tommy's bare butt.
Kevin may have been pretending to be pissed off all the way home - but he became genuinely pissed off when he was getting out of the car and saw something - the corner of a box of tissues, shoved under the passenger side of the front seat. Red-faced, he looked up at Tommy who was watching his eyes discover the secret tissue. Tommy laughed uproariously: he had set Kevin up to need his assistance! Now Kevin was REALLY mad!
He muttered, "You've had it, asshole!" Tommy's answer was to wiggle his perfect round butt a couple of times as he walked to the door of the house. God! He had also set up this follow-up, complete with the ardent fuel of anger!
Yes - Tommy was extremely manipulative. But - the truth was - he was a genius, a kid with a natural vision, and he only manipulated people into something they didn't know they wanted. That was the underlying theme of Tommy's designs on James Etting, on Coach Springer, even on Mr. Frank. These were merely his current projects! There had been many others!
Tommy led the way upstairs to his room. He purposefully went up the stairs very slowly - so that, eyes at butt level, Kevin could not help but admire the fine roundness of Tommy's buttcheeks, straining the denim, tipping slightly as he raised each leg ascending. Kevin inhaled deeply, picking up the sweet clean musky smell of Tommy's butt.
At the top of the stairs, Tommy turned to the left, away from his own room, instead of to the right. "You can go on in and sit down, Kevin," Tommy said. "I need to use the bathroom first."
Without a comment, Kevin followed Tommy into the bathroom. Instead of unzipping and pulling his _c_o_c_k_ through the Y-front of his white briefs, Tommy rolled jeans and briefs both down, knowing that Kevin would enjoy seeing his butt bared in this situation. Kevin enjoyed more than that as he perched on the end of the tub and stroked Tommy's butt gently as the boy urinated. Kevin could feel muscles at play as his friend initially released the hard stream of piss and then again when he stopped it.
Teasing, Tommy stopped and started several times, so that Kevin got the full benefit of his finely muscled butt. Then Tommy said "okay," hoisting his pants back up and washing his hands, not bothering to dry them. The two boys headed for Tommy's room.
Tommy sat on the edge of his bed, an eager expression on his perfect, handsome young face. "Now, what, buddy?" he said to Kevin, patting the bed next to him indicating Kevin should sit down by him.
Kevin refused the invitation, saying gruffly, "Tommy, you _f_u_c_k_ed around with me today. I'm really mad about the trick with the Arby's cup!"
Tommy laughed, which as he hoped it would, aroused Kevin's temper more.
"You're going to have a sore butt when I'm done with you!" Kevin snarled. "Now, stand up!"
Tommy stood, indolently. Working fast, Kevin undid the waist of Tommy's jeans and then said "YOU take em off!"
Tommy tried to be _s_e_x_y, unzipping them slowly, then turning his back and sticking his butt out as he worked the tight jeans down off of his butt. Kevin exhaled, audibly.
Then Tommy pulled the waistband of his white briefs up just a bit so they fit all the more snugly over his firm buttocks. "How do you want me?" he asked his friend.
Kevin ignored the suggestive sound of that question. He sat on the bed and said, "Over the knee, of course!"
Tommy lay himself down with loving care, turning his butt up at a _c_o_c_k_y angle for Kevin's use. _d_a_m_n_! Kevin had forgotten to get something to spank the boy with! He'd hoped to use the back of a hairbrush!
Oh well, his hand had served this purpose quite well, in the past, so it should do now. He rubbed his palm around on Tommy's cotton-covered butt! Kevin was not a bit angry now, although he was willing to pretend. He was practically in awe. Tommy - Tommy must have the most beautiful butt in the world. Every possible contour, indentation, slight dimpling - all well displayed in the tight briefs. And as pleasing to the touch as to his eyes!
Tommy's _c_o_c_k_ started to seriously stiffen now! Ahh, Kevin was enthralled, he could tell by the delay in the so-called punishment as his buddy's hand circled on his butt, with ever-increasing pressure.
Kevin watched the flesh and material move under his palm, one cheek separating from the other and then on the return arc, pressing against it turning Tommy's deep crack into a hairline. Kevin enjoyed the feeling of that crack under his palm, under the cotton, as well.
Then finally coming to himself again, Kevin raised his hand and began swatting the boyflesh. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He liked the sting on his palm but even more the knowledge that the flesh he struck was more apt to sting. He aimed each swat carefully, one targeting Tommy's crack, dead center, so that the force of the hand, flesh and air were felt at his friend's hole. Then he treated each cheek as individual, independent, swatting at the apex of the perfect round curvature. About ten swats and he paused.
Time for the next stage: he took Tommy 's underwear in hand and carefully, gently, slowly lowered it, inch by inch revealing the colors and forms of a perfect 19 year old boy's butt. Kevin appreciated art, literature, music but nothing so much as he appreciated butt and no butt as much as Tommy's. It was perfection. He would think of it all his life.
The briefs down just above Tommy's knees, Kevin rested his palm again on his friend's butt. He patted it upward from the point where buttock curve abetted into muscular thigh. He nudged the cheeks upward again and again with his palm. There was no smacking sound, no sting - just a rhythmic pressure, which re-molded the flesh into a slightly different but no less appealing set of curves, which restored to their actual form in a snap as Kevin released the pressure. This went on for two or three minutes, a long time measured in butt-nudging.
He then petted each of Tommy's cheeks, hand gently smoothing the flesh top to bottom, each cheek separately. Stroking Tommy's left cheek, Kevin moved his fingertips slightly into the young man's crack, appreciating the delicacy of skin there, delicate and soft. His fingertips went more deeply between Tommy's cheeks still not seeking the aperture there.
Finally and suddenly Kevin raised the gentle palm and brought it down briskly towards the lower part of Tommy's butt. Tommy let out a grunt, inscrutable in its meaning. Kevin smacked his butt again, the bare flesh reddening sharply in the shape of his hand and then slowly fading. Pleasant, musky odors were shot up to Kevin's receptive nostrils by the force of the blows.
Both boys' _c_o_c_k_s were by now at full upright position. Tommy would have greatly enjoyed a comparison but knew that Kevin would firmly resist any such suggestion. It would only slow the progress of the events in hand.
Then Kevin paused again and scanned the room: bingo! A boar bristle brush with a polished wooden handle lay on Tommy's bureau. "Get the brush!" Kevin commanded.
"Yes, sir," Tommy replied, acting the role of the docile submissive perfectly. He stood, jutting forward his swollen groin. Of course, Kevin was NOT interested in THAT, looking away from the throbbing, straining _c_o_c_k_! As Tommy turned towards the bureau, however, Kevin's eyes moved back to his bottom, totally enjoying its motion across the room. Tommy got the brush and turned back to face his friend. Kevin's eyes rose swiftly, to Tommy's.
Kevin began this next, hairbrush phase of Tommy's punishment by petting the shapely butt with the bristles of the brush, gently patting and stroking the pink smooth cheeks. Tommy shuddered in a combination of _s_e_x_ual feeling and stinging, as his sensitized butt flesh felt the tiny sharp prickles move across it.
Then Kevin turned the brush sideways and ran the edge of the wooden back down Tommy's crack again and again, gradually applying more pressure so that Tommy felt the wood on his hole.
Then Kevin brought the brush into the air, turning it, and the back of it came crashing down on his friend's athletic butt. BAP! BAP! BAP!
He stopped to appreciate the color and heat he had so quickly created. God, that was a fine-looking ass Tommy had! Kevin felt his _c_o_c_k_ hardening yet more. This sensation gave him an incentive to act more quickly, so he gave Tommy about a dozen more very firm swats with the brush back. Now Tommy's butt glowed red. Kevin passed his palm over it and felt how warm it had become, like the top of bread that had cooled for a half hour.
He let his hand rest there. Tommy squirmed. Kevin ignored him. Finally Tommy said, "Sir?"
"Yes, Tommy?" replied Kevin in a voice made husky by his _s_e_x_ual state.
"I think I have a fever, sir!"
This was an invitation to Kevin to insert a finger, in lieu of a thermometer, into his friend's butt. SO he did. Tommy's tightened muscle resisted but it was only a token of resistance, as Kevin soon felt the flesh loosen and open for him. Looking at his watch he held the finger in the warm warm space. It would need to be there for about five minutes, for an accurate reading.
After about two minutes, Tommy spoke again. "Sir?"
"Yes, Tommy?"
"I don't think the thermometer is in the right spot! You need to move it about, I think, sir!"
"Yes, Tommy," Kevin replied, and he slowly made a circle inside Tommy's bottom. Both boys' _c_o_c_k_s were so hard by this time. If they had compared them - which Kevin would have no interest in doing - they would have been hard put to decide who was more excited here. A sweet hush lay over the room.
Finally Kevin pulled his finger out and looked at it as if checking the boy's temperature. "Nope! No fever!" he told Tommy and then raised the hand to deliver another volley of swats.
"Sir, I have an idea I think you will like. Something we can do." Tommy's voice raised in pitch just a little on the word "do," asking a silent question, which Kevin answered, "Yes, Tommy? What is that?"
"Well, buddy, sir, it's a bit of role-playing if you're up for it!"
THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL CONTINUE THIS SCENE, REVEALING THE ROLE-PLAYING OF TOMMY AND KEVIN.