Pontius Gemstone, the Boy Named Stacy, and the Erotic Alphabet. With a special appearance by Gideon Gemstone.

Stacy awoke with Pontius' arms wrapped around him, his head on Pontius' chest, and his hand cupping his butt cheek.  Pontius was aroused, rock hard, his gorgeous cock rising into the air like a flagpole!  Stacy couldn't help reaching down to stroke it.  

"Mmm...keep doing that."  His eyes still closed, Pontius took Stacy's hand and helped him squeeze harder.  

"Sorry, I didn't know you were awake."

"I try not to sleep when you're lying in my arms.  I don't want to miss any of it."  He leaned up, and they kissed, both of them hard and pressing together.

"Good morning."  Pontius' gaze was intense, yet warm, comforting, loving.  

"I love you," Stacy said.

Instead of saying "I love you" back, Pontius moved down and started sucking his cock!  "Well, this says love, doesn't it?," he thought as Pontius' tongue darted around the head, and his lips moved up and down the shaft.  Or maybe it doesn't.  It says that he likes cocks.

Suddenly Pontius leapt out of bed.  "Be right back -- gotta pee."  He bounced to the bathroom, his cock still sticking out in front of him.

 While listening to the pee-sounds  -- why was that erotic?  -- Stacy looked around the room: New dresser, desk cluttered with books and headphones, a map of the world taped to the wall, drawings of car designs, a bookcase with mostly Matchbox car models, three dusty guitars that no one had ever used, a glowing neon P.  

Pontius had replaced a poster of a bikini babe with a muscleman because Stacy asked him to, and cleared a drawer for some shirts, socks, and underwear, but it was still his room, Pontius with capital P, in the house he shared with his brother. 

They met last July, when Stacy was shot in the Gator Farm Massacre, and Pontius visited him at the hospital.  Since they, they had hung out almost every day.  

There were movies, concerts, plays, Queer Youth Game Nights. dinner at Jason's Steakhouse after church, volunteer work, a Halloween Party, Thanksgiving with Stacy's family, Christmas with the Gemstones, New Year's Eve in Myrtle Beach -- yet whenever Stacy hinted at moving in together, or getting their own place, Pontius deflected, changed the subject, or bounced out of the room, and God forbid he say "I love you."  Did he think of Stacy as a boyfriend or a buddy? 

Sound of the water running, a towel being yanked, and then Pontius rushed out of the bathroom.  How was he still aroused?  

"So, what were we talking about?"

"Me on my stomach, I think," Stacy said.

"No, on your back. I want to look at you."

More after the break

Stacy loved having Pontius inside him, filling him, no matter the position, but he especially loved being on his back, so he could look up and see Pontius's face, panting from the exertion, sweat beading on his forehead, as he thrust over and over, trying to go deep but not finish too soon, so he could stay inside Stacy's body as long as possible.  

"Having fun, Stace?"  Pontius grunted.

Fun?  No.  They weren't playing tennis.  This was way too intense to be fun, pleasure and pain combining, Pontius inside him, taking him, but only because Stacy was in control.  

"I love you," Stacy whispered as he tightened and loosened his sphincter, enveloping Pontius' cock and then letting it go, over and over, his hips swaying, his own cock straining for release.

Pontius thrust faster and faster, pushing deeper and deeper, until Stacy couldn't wait for his mouth later, and started beating off.  Pontius watched, grinning, then closed his eyes and made those familiar grunting sounds as he thrust deeper.  As he pushed past Stacy's prostate and spurted into him, he screamed so loud that Gideon was sure to know what they were up to.

Pontius slid out of Stacy's butt, still hard, pushed his hands away, and went down on him.  He didn't even have time for a stroke; the moment Stacy felt Pontius' mouth on his cock, he shot with an intensity that jolted his whole body.  Then, sweating, exhausted, Stacy pulled him into a deep kiss.

"That was intense, Stace," he said, breaking away. "I don't know how many times I've screwed you..."

"We've been together for over six months," Stacy told him, "So probably about fifty times."

"It never gets boring. It still, like, explodes the universe."

That was our souls coming together, Stacy thought, but he said: "You're definitely an expert. C'mon, let's jump in the shower.  We're having brunch with Gideon and your folks."

"Can't we stay in bed for another hour or two?  You haven't done that thing you like since yesterday."

Stacy laughed. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"Well, not ordinarily, but when you're lying next to me naked -- or under me naked -- what do you expect?"  

Stacy knew that he meant it as a complement, but he wondered.  Was it all about sex?  A bit of fun to distract him from his real life? Was he a boyfriend or a sex buddy?

He began nuzzling Stacy's neck.  "You don't even have to be naked.  Even with your clothes on, all I can think of is kissing you... and sucking your nips..."  He moved down to his chest and licked one of Stacy's nipples and squeezed the other.  "...and watching my cock slide into your mouth."  He straddled Stacy and began stroking his cock.

"Dude, you haven't washed off yet from the anal," Stacy said, alarmed.

"So who cares?  You're into rimming, right?"

"That's different."  

"Ok, ok, I'll go wash off."

Stacy sighed.  "You're such a horn dog.  What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want," Pontius said with an impish grin. "I can make you a list.  In alphabetical order: A, Abs licking. B, Butt fucking.  C, Kissing."

"Kissing starts with a K."

"Ok, so C is a Crazy amount of kissing.  D, a Disgusting amount of kissing .  E, an Extreme amount of kissing.  F,  Face-fucking. G, Groping."  He reached down and caressed Stacy's cock.

Stacy laughed.  "I love you."

"Love is L."  He jumped out of bed, his cock bouncing back and forth, and ran into the bathroom.  Over the water running, he yelled.  "I need an H.  Help me out, Stace."

Running away again?  Stacy didn't respond.  

"Ok, so H, Holding hands.  I, Interfemoral.  J, Jerking off..."

 He not only ran away, he made a silly joke!  It shouldn't bother Stacy: he loved that giddy, goofy, effervescent joy.  In six months, he had never seen Pontius sad, or angry, or annoyed by the minor hassles of everyday life, just bouncing with happiness.  It made everything better -- except for this time.  

"Is jerking off ok for J, Stace?"

Stacy didn't respond.

The room was silent for a long time.  Then Stacy heard a towel being removed from its rack, some cabinets opening and closing, and Pontius re-appeared.  He had put on a pair of boxer shorts. He was frowning.  

What's going on? Stacy asked himself.  Did I go too far in pushing the "I love you"?  

"Get over here."

"What?"

"You...get your butt..over here... now."  

Stacy obeyed.  

Pontius put his hands on Stacy's waist and drew him close.  "I'm not good at saying it, because no one else has ever said it to me, but of course I love you.  I love you so hard that sometimes I think I'm going to burst.  You're the only one who ever saw anything good in me, who didn't think I was a total screw-up."  Was that a tear? 

"I'm back in school, getting Bs, I stopped using, I'm volunteering at the Gemstone Hope House.  You did that.  You made me a better person, and I thank God for you every day of my life."  He kissed him hard.  "Got that?"

Stacy nodded.  He fell like he was about to cry, too. 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  "You guys about ready?"  

"We'll need about twenty minutes, Gideon," Pontius called .  "We still have to shower."  He turned back to Stacy.  "Let's go soap each other's nuts. Hey, N. Nut-soaping. O, Orgasms.  P. Pounding ass..."

They continued in the shower. Q, Quite a lot of kissing; R, Rimming; S, Sucking cock. Then Stacy dropped to his knees to demonstrate, and they forgot the rest of the alphabet.

See also: Kelton Dumont's Hot/Hung Photos, Part 3: Birthday biceps, bare bums, rugger dicks, and brothers for life

Pontius Gemstone and the Boy Named Stacy

Johnny Berchtold: I have good news and bad news.  The good news is his cock.  I'm tired of using Michael Berthold as the model for Stacy.  The guy has like three photos online, all headshots.  So from now on Stacy is modeled on Johnny Berchtold.