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The Young Ones

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In the centre of Aesop's Playground is a table often frequented by three young persons barely old enough to be in a pub, yet here they are. They became adults in a world in which they were taught their touch will kill, kill the old, kill the sickly. Yet touch they must.

Don't think of of him as a fool no matter how foolish he may seem in his strange atire.  He is just young, trying to negotiate his way though this stange world where touch is evil which leaves only sight which is how he is tryig to catch your attention.  

It has been a while since Snowy confided this tale about him and the young man seated next to him, Amaro.  I ask you to be discreet with what I tell you as the tale involves others and I have not had the opportuntiy to give them a chance to confirm his memories of the events.

As you know, I have a little penchant for exploring other people's firsts, their intimate firsts.  A variation of the hackneyed how did you meet which I think develops so much more satifying conversations.  Though asking for firsts can often be a little tricky, risky, even, and usually requiring great delicacy of approach, I cannot remember how I posed the question to Snowy.  Or indeed exactly what the question had been that led to Snowy telling me of a dream he had when he was young, and the first that was revealed in the story.

The dream was of a young Snowy swimming with his cousin Amaro and Amaro's dad.  They were swimming naked.  It was not something they usually did, they were not living in a nudist colony, but, Snowy said, the nudity did not feel strange.  They are cousins who visited each other's households regularly.  Snowy was more often at Amaro's house, they were better off, they had a swimming pool.  In the dream there was one very unusual thing about the nudity: both Amaro and his dad had truly colossal penises.  Not just well hung, superb schlongs.  No.  These were ten or fifteen foot snakes curling about the edge of the pool thick as adult boa constrictors.  Though, I must repeat, Snowy felt no danger from these monstorous members.  He could not remember who asked, or if indeed it was one of them or just a voicelss question that ofen happens in dreams.  The question: where was his cock.  After a moment of confusion in which Snow realised there were indeed only two monster cocks in the pool he answered: I keep it in a jar next to my bed.  In his dream this was a satisfactory anwer.   It even brought to mind an image of a snake like cock in formaldahyde.  The cock in the jar, he realised, was a lot smaller than his cousin's or his uncle's cocks but it didn't matter.  It often does not in dreams.

Snowy's dream has a lot of perhaps superficial parallels to the old Aesop's fable about the wicked and ungreatful snake that is severed in two but perhaps this story goes deeper as the dream left a lot of room for discussion, and, you know me, I took the opportunity to expore.  It was this exploration that led to a revelation of a little wicked first.

Under a promise that I would never repeat his words, Snowy revealed that he believed the dream stemmed from those early sexual explorations boys will do together.  Amaro is nearly a year older than Snowy and was an early developer in puberty.  Amaro was experienced and Snowy a little in awe, but, of course, he did not want to to apear inadequately immature.  They were in the same year at school, after all, and Snowy was Amaro's match sportingly, and his better academically.  But at that age maturity is what mattered.  And as the dream noted, Amaro was, is, indeed well hung.  Of course I asked about Amaro's father but Snowy could not remember.

What he did remember was their contrasting cocks as they sat side by side on the bed.  Amaro's large, circumcised, dark and, as Snowy described it, grarly.  His was smooth and thin, like a little torpedo.  Amaro pinched his frenulum to tug it up and down.  He squeezed his torpedo with thumb and forefingers in frantic jerking motions.  Amaro came quickly and copiously, white spunk on his dark, taught stomach.  Snowy had not ejaculated before these experimental moments, and with Amaro's encouragement he did.  Aided by Amaro's tips and demonstrations.  And the clips on Amaro's phone.

But he also admitted their sessions would sometimes end with him giving up.  Those times, he confessed, he had been rude and ingracous to Amaro despite Amaro's encouragement and kindress.  Those times he displayed his wickedness, like the snake in Aesop's Fable he showed no gratitude.

 

The fine youg woman sitting with Snowy and Amaro is Mrwena.

I am sure you only ever think the best of me, but let's not dally, let me just tell this tale.

Quality is better than quantity, in which one the beautiful Morwena leaves in search of quality and Snowy bemoans his quantity - all of this at a party in the woods,

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