Date: Wed, 1 Jun 2005 10:50:45 -0400
From: kicky1000@yahoo.com
Subject: The Stiffie Game

			     The Stiffie Game

				    by

				Little Dan


I guess it all started when I first went to school and started meeting
other kids.  Or other little boys.  Yes, I had my first sleepover date
when I was in Kindergarten.

My best friend in my class, Shep Hargrove, was playing at my house after
school, and my mother called his mother and asked if Shep could eat
dinner with us?  I had been bragging to Shep about my mother's liver and
onions, which she was making that night, and I was dying for him to taste
it.  I begged my mother to let him stay for dinner, and since it would be
late after that, to sleep over in my big bed.  His mother said yes, thank
goodness.  And I must say that my mother went out of her way that night.
The liver was just slightly pink inside, and the onions were perfectly
caramelized.  She even made creamed potatoes, and the thick white sauce
was delectable.  Even my father said it was great, and he hates creamed
potatoes.

After dinner we went up to my bedroom and we played video games.
Princess and Dragon.  Monster Virus Battles the World.   I had all the
latest and greatest.  And we were having such a good time, when my mother
stuck her head in the door.

"Time for sleepy-bye," she said.

"Oh, mom," I complained.

"Come on.  Get ready for bed.  Tomorrow is another day.  You can play
more games tomorrow."  She knew how much I loved to play games.

Since Shep didn't have any pajamas, we decided that we would both sleep
in the raw.  I had done that on summer nights before my parents bought me
an air conditioner.   I don't know why, but I was curious to see what
Shep looked like without his clothes.  He looked nice.  He had moppy
brown hair, and blue eyes, and he was a little taller than me, so his
legs and arms were a little longer.  I don't know why, but I got a real
thrill out of looking at his behind, when he bent over to pull his
underpants off his feet.  And then he turned around and I saw his thing.
It was small like mine, and it was swinging a little over his two smooth
little balls.

I think it was then that I started to get a stiffie.  I had only noticed
having a stiffie once before, but it had quickly gone down.  But now I
was getting another one.  I didn't know why I was getting a stiffie.
What could be causing it?  Was it normal?  I had never mentioned my first
stiffie to my parents, so I was still fairly ignorant about stiffies.  I
was a little embarrassed, so I quickly climbed between the sheets.  Shep
crawled in right next to me, and I could feel the heat of his body next
to mine.  I reached over and turned the bedside lamp off.

I was trying to get to sleep.  I was really trying.  But something was
disturbing me.  It was my stiffie.  It just wouldn't go down.  I was
wondering if I should mention it to Shep.  I wondered if he got stiffies
too.  I decided to risk asking him.

"Did you ever get a stiffie?" I asked.

"What's a stiffie?" he asked.

"It's your thing.  It gets hard.  Like an arrowhead."

"Really?" he asked me.  "I never noticed."

"I have one now.  Do you want to see it?" I asked him.

"Sure," he answered.

I turned on the bedside lamp, and rolled down the covers.  There was my
little stiffie sticking straight up.

"Wow," said Shep.  He kept studying it.  Like he was fascinated.  "Can
I touch it?" he asked.

"Go ahead," I allowed.   He shyly put his hand on it, and the minute
his hand touched me, my mind zinged through the ceiling.  It felt great
to have someone touch your stiffie.

"Look," pointed Shep.  "I'm getting a stiffie too.'  He was.

"Can I touch it?" I asked.

"Sure," he said.  I touched his.  He gave a little jump and we smiled
at each other.  We had just discovered something.   A new game.  The
Stiffie game.

But what would the rules of The Stiffie Game be?  I wanted to invent a
really good game.  Games were such fun.  I had it.

"Let's play The Stiffie Game," I suggested, as if it were an old
established traditional tournament, like chess or scrabble.

"How do you play The Stiffie Game?" asked Shep, not unreasonably.

I got out of bed and toddled naked to the dresser.  I opened the bottom
drawer and took out the flashlight.  I got back in bed, and pulled the
covers over myself and the flashlight.  Then I turned out the bedside
lamp again.   I lay there in the dark formulating the rules.

"I'll tell you how to play The Stiffie Game," I told Shep.

"Okay,"

"We both stay under the covers with our heads under the blankets, and
then at some point I'll switch on the flashlight.  And if you have a
stiffie, I win, and you have to do whatever I say.  But if you don't
have a stiffie, you win, and I have to do whatever you say."

"Okay," he agreed.  "I had no idea what a penalty should be for having
a stiffie, but I knew I would eventually think of one.

I started laughing to myself.  Just thinking about getting a stiffie was
giving me a stiffie, and I knew the same thing had to be happening to
Shep.  He was lying there in the dark, probably trying desperately not to
get a stiffie, but the more he thought about stiffies, the stiffer he
would get.  Try not getting a stiffie, when you were thinking about
stiffies.  I realized how impossible that was.

I waited about five minutes.  I could hear Shep's heavy breathing in the
bed right next to me.  I could feel the heat of his body.  Boy. Did I
have a big stiffie.  But at the moment, the question was, would he have a
stiffie, when I turned on the flashlight?  Him.  Not me.

My heart was pounding in my chest.  I was getting ready.  I was getting
ready.  I knew he was anticipating it and getting hard as a rock.  My
heart kept pounding in my chest.  I switched on the flashlight and
pointed it down toward his crotch.  There was his stiffie.  I howled.

"Oh, darn," he said, trying to cover it with his hands.

"Take your hands away," I said to him.  "You have a stiffie.  You have
a stiffie."  I sang that.  "You have a stiffie."

"So do you," he observed.

"But I'm `it,'" I explained.  So it's only your stiffie that counts
now.  "You have a stiffie.  You have a stiffie," I chanted again and
again.

"Okay.  What do I have to do?" he asked me.

I had known this was going to come up, and I didn't yet have an answer.
Then something hit me.  Something really, really disgusting.

"You have to get down between my legs and take my stiffie in your mouth,
and suck on it," I told him.

"Oh, yuch," he said.  "I'm not gonna do that."

"But those are the rules of the game.  We said we were going to play The
Stiffie Game, and you have to abide by the rules.  Don't be a big
baby."  That sort of did it.  He didn't want to be a big baby, so he
agreed to take my stiffie in his mouth and suck on it.

The minute my hard little penis entered his hot wet mouth, I knew I was
in heaven.  This was not just a game I had invented.  I had accidentally
stumbled onto a great universal truth.  An ageless borderless pastime.
It felt so fantastic.  I put my hands on top of Shep's boyish head and
pressed his mouth down onto my little missile.

"Suck on it more," I instructed him.  He did.  It felt unbelievable.  I
had known it would.   I wondered what it was like for him to be sucking
on my rigid protrusion.

"Do you like my stiffie?" I asked him.  "Do you like sucking on my
stiffie?"

He opened his mouth for a second, just to utter the words, "Yes.  It's
great.  It's really great."  Then he began to suck again.  This was so
wonderful.

"See.  I told you The Stiffie Game was a great game," I told him
triumphantly raising my hips toward his half-closed wet lips.   I thought
I saw his head nod a little, while he was sucking, but I couldn't be
sure.

I felt something wanted to happen in my body, but it wasn't happening.
I was loving the sucking, but some final thing just wasn't there.  I
figured we'd better stop, and get some sleep.

"Okay," I said.  "You're a good player.  But we'd better get some
sleep."

"First it should be my turn," he argued.

"Your turn for what?"  I really didn't know what he had in mind.

"My turn to be `it'," he answered.  Now I get the flashlight, and
when I turn it on, if you have a stiffie, you have to do whatever I say.
Give me the flashlight,"

I really wanted to go to sleep now, but it seemed only fair that he get a
chance to be `it.'

I tried to make my stiffie go down, but I just knew he was going to turn
on the flashlight any second, and there was no chance that I wouldn't
have a stiffie when he did, and then he did turn on the flashlight, and,
damn, I had a stiffie.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked him, as if I didn't know.  Shep
was cute, but he wasn't really very inventive.  "I knew he would want
me to do to him, what I had made him do to me.

"I want you to get down and put my stiffie in your mouth and suck on
it," he announced.  Big surprise.

I wasn't too keen on that, but I had made him do it to me, and I had
really liked it, and even he had really liked it.  I shrugged my
shoulders in the dark and crawled down between his open thighs.  I spread
my lips around his skinny stiffie, and slurped it in, as if it were a
string of spaghetti.

He started tossing and moaning.  He liked it even more than I had liked
getting sucked.  His hands came down on top of my head and he forced his
entire small length into my little mouth.  I sucked on it like you would
suck on a straw.   "UNNNGGGHHH,  UUUNNNNNGGGGHHH,  UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHH,"
he moaned.

"Quiet," I cautioned him.  "My mother will hear."  He immediately
shut up, but he was still making soft inarticulate pleasure sounds in his
throat   Like his throat was clicking or something.

As for me.  Sucking stiffies was the greatest thing since ice-pops.  I
loved it.  I just loved it.  And to think that I had just blindly
stumbled onto The Stiffie Game, and I might never have discovered it at
all.  I might never have had a sweet stiffie pushing into my mouth like
this.  I put that thought right out of my head, and got down to
performing my penalty.  Sucking Shep's wonderful stiffie.  His wonderful
wonderful stiffie.

Something was happening with Shep.  Something that hadn't happened with
me.  He was going up to some strange new level and he started pounding
himself into my mouth.  I redoubled my efforts, to help him achieve
whatever he was trying to achieve.   I squeezed his asscheeks, and
tickled his balls, and took him deep into my throat.

Unfortunately, he started with the "UUUNNNNNGGGGHHHH.  UUUUUNNNNGGGHHH.
UUUUNNNNGGGHHH," again.  And then his little beating hips kind of
collapsed on the bed, and he was just resting, and breathing hard.

I was hoping my mother hadn't heard his moans.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"I don't know.  Something terrific happened.  Something really
terrific.  I never knew there was a feeling like that in this world.
Didn't you feel it when I was sucking on your stiffie?" he asked me.

Sorrowfully, I admitted to him that I had not.   I hadn't felt anything
like he had seemed to feel.  I knew my body had failed to experience some
miraculous joy, and I was sad.

"Don't worry," he said to me.  "Maybe next time.  We'd better go to
sleep."

"Yes," I agreed.  "We should go to sleep."   I stretched myself out
alongside him, and then the craziest thing.  He leaned over and he kissed
me.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night," I said.  We sort of fell asleep facing each other with
our arms around each other's back.  I guess Shep was the closest friend
I had ever had.   I fell asleep.

The next day life went back to normal.  Unfortunately.  Did I ever miss
The Stiffie Game.  And I had a feeling that maybe Shep did also.

But then Shep started talking non-stop about his mother's Chicken
Stroganoff.  How delicious it was.  How I really had to taste it.  I knew
he was anxious to return my hospitality.

He told me that next Tuesday night, his mother was going to make the
wonderful dish, just for me.  He had her call my mother and invite me
over to dinner and to spend the night.  Not only would I taste the
magnificent Chicken Stroganoff, but I would probably get a chance to play
The Stiffie Game again.  I could hardly wait. The days just dragged by
until Tuesday rolled around, and Shep's mother picked us both up from
our Kindergarten class.

Dinner was a really festive occasion.  There was a big bowl of noodles,
and Shep's mother put noodles on everybody's plate, before spooning the
Chicken Stroganoff over it.

Shep's father asked me how I liked school, and I said "Fine."

The Chicken Stroganoff was chicken in a tomato-sour cream gravy, and the
noodles got soaked with the delicious sauce.  Shep was right.  His
mother's Chicken Stroganoff was merely fabulous.

"Would you like some more chicken, Herbie?" Shep's mother asked me.

"No," I answered.  `But maybe a few more noodles with some gravy."  I
ate another portion of gravy noodles.  It was really delicious.

After dinner we went up to Shep's bedroom to play some video games.  He
had a good collection also.  He had The Yankee and the Terrorists, and he
also had Glacier Melt Down.  Two teriffic games.  We played both of
them.  After a while, Shep's mother came in to remind us it was time for
bed.   She closed the bedroom door and left us to get undressed.

I noticed that there was already a flashlight on the night table.  We got
under the cover and turned out the lights.  "Are we going to play The
Stiffie Game?" I asked Shep.

"Of course," he replied, almost automatically.

I was happy.  I leaned over to reach for the flashlight in the dark, but
he had already crawled over me, and had it in his hand.

I had thought I was going to be `it,' again.  But I was wrong.

"I'm going to be `it,' said Shep.  "It's my house."

"Okay," I agreed.  I had really liked it even more when he had been
`it," last time.  And he had really enjoyed it.

We lay there in the dark.  I felt his slender body next to me.  Almost
touching me.  In fact, our legs were actually in contact.  This fact was
not lost on my little penis.  I had a raging stiffie, and there was no
way I was going to get it down before Shep turned on the flashlight and
exposed me for the horny little prick I was.

Shep switched on the flashlight.  "You have a stiffie.  You have a
stiffie," he crooned in my ear, giggling.

I joined in the laughter.  I really didn't mind getting caught.  In
fact, I had been kind of looking forward to it.  I joined in the
sing-song.  "I have a stiffie.  I have a stiffie."   In fact, I was
getting stiffer and stiffer, and from what I could see in the
semi-darkness, so was Shep.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, as if I didn't know.

But Shep astounded me.

"You know how when your mother takes your temperature?   Sometimes she
puts the thermometer in your mouth.  But sometimes she puts the
thermometer in your behind, because that's more accurate."

"Yes," I said.  My mother had certainly put a thermometer in my behind
from time to time.  It was nasty.

"Well, I want to put my stiffie in your behind."

"I hate having anything in my behind," I protested.

"But I'm `it', and I make the rules, and I want to put my stiffie in
your behind.  So you have to let me."

"Okay," I conceded unhappily.

Where had he come up with that idea?  That was so way out.  "How did you
think of that?" I asked him.

"I don't know.  I just started thinking a stiffie was like a
thermometer a little, and if it could go in your mouth, maybe it could
also go in your behind.   And my stiffie felt so good in your mouth, I
wondered if your behind might be even tighter, which would make it feel
even better.  And my stiffie isn't that much thicker than a
thermometer."

"Yes, it is," I argued.

"Well, maybe a little," he conceded, but if we put a lot of stuff on
it, it will probably go in."

"Well, okay," I agreed nervously.  "Do you have any stuff?"

"I took it out of the medicine cabinet before, and put it in the night
table drawer.  I'll get it."  He reached over me and opened the drawer,
and took out a large tube.  He had the flashlight on, so I could see it.

"Now, lie face down," he instructed me.  "I'll put a lot of stuff
on."

He put a lot of stuff on and crawled between my open thighs.  Using the
flashlight, he aimed his stiffie between my crack into the little hole
there.

"Oowww," I protested.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"It still hurts," I said.

"Maybe I ought to stick some stuff inside your bottom with my finger
first," he suggested.

We agreed that that was worth a try, and he proceeded.  I felt his finger
enter me.  It wasn't so bad.  And his stiffie wasn't that much bigger
than his finger.  Well, maybe it was a little.

"Why don't you try two fingers," I suggested.

"Yeah," he agreed.  And pretty soon he had two fingers in me, and he
was turning his hand and dilating my tight little ring.   He was very
patient.  He worked and worked to make me more open, so that his stiffie
wouldn't hurt me.  He eventually had three fingers in, and was twisting
his hand every which way.

"I think maybe you can try it now," I suggested.

"Okay."  He stretched out on top of me, and I felt his stiffie move
between my slimy cheeks and enter my bottomhole. I gasped.

He stopped cold.  "Does it still hurt?" he asked me.

"No.  It's okay.  It's just that it's a different feeling.  I think
it feels good.  Go ahead."

He plunged to its deepest depth, and just lay on my back.

"It feels nice," he said.  "Nice and tight and warm"

"It feels good to me too," I said

"Good.   But you know what, I think it might feel even better if I moved
it in and out a little.   I sort of feel like it wants to move in and
out."

"Okay," I agreed.  "Go ahead.  Move it in and out."

He began moving it.  And you know what? It felt really good.  It's like
there was something tickling me right up inside me.  I can't even
explain it.

Shep really did have an inventive mind.  He was inventive, creative, and
imaginative.  I hadn't given him any credit for that at all.  I had a
whole new respect for him.  He was a little boy like me, but he was a
real man.  He was someone whom I could turn to and rely upon.

He was hunching up and down on top of me, and making those
"UUUUNNNNGGGHHH,  UUUUNNNNGGGGHHH,  UUUUNNNNGGGHHH," noises in my ear.
"Do you like it," he asked me.

"Yes.  I do.  I really like it.  Do you like it?"

"It's the best thing I've ever felt in my life," he said.  He kept
humping into me and making sounds.  I raised my ass up and met him half
way.  I could tell he appreciated that.

"Is my behind better than my mouth?"  I asked him.

"Your mouth was great.  But this is the best.  This really is the
best."  Hunch.  Hunch.  "UUUUNNNNNGGGHHHH.  UUUUUNNNNNNGGGGHHHH.
UUUUUNNNNNGGGHH.  Oh, god," he screamed and started slamming his hips
against my buttcheeks.  "Oh, god."

Something was happening to him again.  His arms wrapped around my chest
and squeezed me so I could hardly breathe, and his legs kind of flipped
out below him in strange spastic movements.  "GGGNNNGGG," he said.  And
then he relaxed on top of me, resting his whole body upon my back and
bottom.

I felt that I had done something really great and important for Shep, and
I was proud and happy.

"Maybe we ought to go to sleep," he suggested.

"Don't I get a chance to be "it'?" I asked.

"Not tonight.  I'm really bushed.  Maybe next time, okay?"

"Okay," I said.  I really wasn't disappointed.  I knew that whatever
had happened in Shep's body would not happen in mine.  I just wasn't
all that sensitive.  Too bad.  But true.  I was just happy to be there
for him.

I felt his stiffie go soft now, and come out of my behind.  We lay on our
sides, with Shep right behind me, pressed up against me.  I could feel
his little soft penis against my behind cheeks.  His arms were around my
waist holding me.  And that's how we fell asleep.

From then on we were always best friends.  Once or twice a week, I would
stay over at his house.  Once or twice a week, he would stay over at
mine.  Our parents thought it was so sweet that we were such good
friends.

After that night, though, we never played The Stiffie Game any more.  We
didn't need the flashlight, and we didn't need an excuse for what we
had found to be very pleasurable.   (When I grew up, I discovered that
most people spelled Stiffie `Stiffy' with a Y not and IE.  But I think
IE looks nicer, and the word isn't in any dictionary or anything, so I
always spell it with an IE, the way I did when I was younger.)

We would climb naked into bed, and I would stoop down between Shep's
legs, which got longer and stronger as the years passed.  I would nurse
on his sweet cock, until it got real hard and real stiff.  Until he had a
real stiffie, you might say.  Then I would let him put his cock, which
was getting bigger and bigger, as the years passed, into my tight warm
little asshole.  My little asshole, luckily, did not get too much
bigger.  Shep's cock was always a perfect fit inside me.

We tried everything.  Sometimes we would lie on our sides, and Shep would
fuck his cock into me from behind.  Sometimes I would lie on my back, so
that he could climb above me, and I could kiss him, and wrap my arms and
legs around him.  I liked that position a lot.   Sometimes he would lie
on his back, and I would get on my knees above him, and place his cock
inside my hole.  We even did it doggy.  And of course we always liked the
original way, with me lying on my belly, and him sprawled out on my back,
hunching and hunching into me.

A few times we tried it the other way around, with Shep sucking on my
dick, and then me putting my cock into his ass.  But that didn't really
work for us.  We both really liked it the other way, with Shep as the
dominant partner, and me as the submissive partner.  It was just so
natural for us.  So why fool around when you know what you like?

I knew what I liked. And I knew whom I liked.  I liked Shep.  I loved
Shep.  He had been the love of my life since Kindergarten.  And I had
been the love of his life.  I never wanted to try anyone else.  We were
just so good together.

I never had another man's cock in my mouth or my ass.  Only Shep's.
And I knew that it was the same for him.  He had only known my mouth and
fanny.

Around the time we got into fifth grade some new things started
happening.  Our bodies started growing and changing, and our voices
changed, and we both started to grow a few hairs on our faces, even
though we still didn't have to shave.

We were both heavily into sports, so no one ever suspected that we were
lovers.  One night Shep was staying over at my house.  We had done our
homework and gotten into bed.  Shep placed me face up on the bed, and
began to fuck me.  We were fucking and kissing and fucking and kissing,
and my heels were pressed tightly against his asscheeks.  But something
was very different tonight.  His noises were really off the wall, and
even his movements were strange to me.  This wasn't the practiced fuck,
which we had perfected.  "Oh, god!" he started screaming repetitively.
I squeezed his body in my folded legs.  And then I felt his cock expand
inside of me, and suddenly a searing hot liquid was flooding out into my
guts.

Shep had come.  It was the first time.  We had heard about coming.  But
it had never happened before for us.  Now it had happened.  I guess we
were really growing up.

He smiled at me, triumphantly.

"I came," he announced.

"I felt it," I told him.  When he withdrew his cock from me I felt the
cooling liquid seeping out of my ass.  I stuck my fingers down there and
coated them with his cum.  I brought my fingers up were I could see them,
and rubbed them together in wonderment, getting his beautiful cum all
over my hand.  I was a little jealous.  I knew it must feel really
tremendous, and I wanted to know what it felt like.  It just wasn't my
time yet.

About eight months later it was.  I guess I'm a slower developer, or
something.  We were lying on our sides one night, and Shep's cock was
moving back and forth in my ass in the sweetest, gentlest, most relaxed
fashion.  Suddenly I started to feel a little tingling in my balls.  He
must have been hitting a particularly sensitive spot or something,
because every instroke gave me a little electric jolt.  It felt so
great.  So great.

"I think I might come," I told him.  "Keep doing what you're doing."

He continued to gently hammer into me, but now he took his left hand and
reached down, and wrapped it around my cock. "Oh, yes.  Oh, yes," I
cried.   He took his hand off and spit a few times into his palm.  Then
he wrapped his fist around my cock again, but this time it was sliding.
"Yes.  Yes."  Now I was screaming.  "UUUUNNNNGGGHHH.
UUUUUUNNNGGGHHH.  UUUUNNNNNGGG," and suddenly I could feel my balls
release the hot sperm which started speeding down my dicktube and out
onto the sheets.  Oh, it felt so good.  So good.  At last I really knew
what life was about.  I was grown up now.  And none too soon.  "I
came," I said to Shep.  "I came."  He kissed me warmly on the lips.
He was as happy for me, as I had been for him.

Shep and I applied to the same College in New Hampshire. White Mountain
University.  We were able to room together in the freshman dorm.  Our
lives were working out perfectly.  We both were majoring in Computer
Science, and we swore that we would never take a job apart from each
other.  It was together.  All the way.  Our whole life long.

I think some of the other guys may have wondered why we never dated the
girls on campus.   But as we were very big into sports and sufficiently
masculine, no one ever questioned us.   And besides, we told everybody,
we both had childhood sweethearts back in our old hometown.  And even
that we were both engaged to be married.  He was engaged to Mary, and I
was engaged to Anne.  (On our first vacation we got a digital camera and
took pictures of high school girls in our town.  One would be Mary and
one would be Anne.  We had two pictures framed, and kept them in our
room.)     Meanwhile, behind closed doors, we fucked each other every
night.

We got our baccalaureates together, with our parents proudly in
attendance.

They all still believed that we were just lifelong best friends, and were
so happy for us.  We went on to get our PHD's and finally we landed big
jobs together with the Electronic Application Company in Catchawkie,
Oregon.  We, of course, rented an apartment together and set up house in
Catchawkie.  It only made sense.  After all, we had been pals since
Kindergarten.

We have been together for so many years now.  I actually consider Shep to
be my husband, though of course, there are laws that say we cannot get
married.  We would be considered perverted, degenerate, disgusting, and
immoral.  It's discouraging, to say the least.

But we stay together.  And help each other.  And love each other.
Always.  The very best we can.