There's nothing worse than puppy love. Especially when you're a full grown dog. I mean he was seventeen, very soon going on eighteen, and I was already twenty-four. The first time ever I saw his face, he was sitting in front of me at a family luncheon. I was mentally saying "phew" at the horny sight of him and physically trying to pull myself together by playing scrabble with the bread crumbs and fantasizing on all the words beginning with ''pu''. These of course included puppy, puberty and pubic, which were very applicable to him and, while pussy didn't interest me at all, it was somehow appropriate as I purred internally every time he looked at me from under his very long, slightly feminine eyelashes. Then when he pursed his Angelina Jolie lips over his spoon, and made soft, sucking sounds as he drank the juice at the bottom of his fruit bowl, I thought firmly of puritan and purity but that didn't help much. I mean I tried to keep a tight rein on my frisky feelings and did my best not to wash the dirty linen of my thoughts in public, or rather in front of my family, but it sure was difficult. In fact 'hard' was the operative word.

Have you ever watched someone you love eat? Then you'll know how my eyes consumed him as he consumed his food. Or have you ever got turned on by watching them do simple everyday things like turn the pages of a book and just longed to be between those fingers? I once read an essay by Stendhal and he defined this kind of obsession as 'crystallization.' By this he meant adding a loving lustre to the object of your affection and making it sparkle and shine like the beautiful, silver branch of a Christmas tree. And Stevie certainly made all my Christmases cum at once. Trouble is at first it was only at Christmas time and suchlike holidays that I got to see him. You see he was my sister-in-law's baby brother.

I tried to relieve my guilt feelings by telling myself that he wasn't a blood relative or anything but I knew only too well that technically he qualified as kith and kin. At the same time I was all too aware that he kindled passions in me that had been lying dormant for quite some time. In his definition of crystallization Stendhal uses vocabulary like phosphorescent and translucent and words had never before held quite such poetical meaning for me. I knew exactly what he meant every time I looked at Stevie. My mind literally shimmered as I imagined clinging to his body like liquid silver, or a second skin. Which is exactly how I felt when our eyes met and interlocked through the horny haze of the blown-out candles on his eighteenth birthday cake. The smoke enveloped him, and me, like a soft sexual blanket. I was immediately reminded of something else I'd read somewhere -- about love never losing sight of loveliness and that a friend can never seem less than beautiful. I wondered just how many others, besides Stendhal, had endured such blissful suffering.

He was born just before Easter but it was unseasonably hot that year so we were able to go swimming the day after his birthday. Everybody else seemed to have 'something better to do' so I had him to myself for once. There are some nice secluded little coves along the Cornish coast where my parents live. I often go there and hardly ever see a soul especially early in the morning. I sometimes take a chance and sunbathe in the buff but the locals are rather prim and proper so it's a bit risky. Still I usually get away with it if I'm careful.

The first time I had suspicions about Stevie maybe being gay and therefore available was when I turned round to reach for the food hamper and suddenly found a thin thong and thick dong staring me full in the face. The thought sprang into my head that real men don't eat quiche and straight boys don't wear thongs. When he saw my surprised expression he blushed and tried to make an awkward joke of it saying that he'd wanted to take the sun in his birthday suit but hadn't quite dared. And this was the next best thing. He rolled over on his stomach to try and conceal his growing excitement but I'd already seen the shape of things to come. I knew then that he felt about me what I felt about him. Or was at least curious. I decided to return like for like and made my own feeble joke saying he'd get a good 'tanning' if he went home red as a beetroot. He asked me to put some oil on his back so I did. And not only on his back but basted those mouth-watering buttocks which looked as tempting and tasty as two hot-cross buns.

I felt him heave and sigh at my touch but prolonged the pleasant agony by rubbing the oil into his legs and massaging between his thighs. My fingers fairly sizzled with the heat he produced. Tentatively, I cupped my hand round his balls and cradled them. He lifted his butt so I could get a better grip and soon my fingers were able to make their way along his size nine prick. I thought my own dick was going to burst at the exquisite feel of it. Just a thin strand of elasticised cotton separated me from heaven. His dick felt longer than a boatman's oar and his bobbing butt promised feisty fires down below. In fact I couldn't wait to get into his engine room and oil up his works.

Stealthily I lowered myself onto him and 'climbed aboard.' I nestled my nose in his wet hair and nuzzled his neck and slid my dick down his back until it fitted nicely into his hot little hold. I built up a slow, slumberous rhythm with my body while I jerked him off gently with my hand. He ground his butt into my groin and I tightened my grip on his dick in horny response. We were both so excited now there was no holding back. Somehow or other I got him out of his cotton chastity belt and began to pry open his ass oblivious to the potential danger of prying eyes catching us in the act. This only made it more exciting, more sensational.

My palm was wet with the pre-cum oozing from him. I used it to lubricate his pulsating porthole. He hissed as I slapped my way into his watery depths but helped me keep an even keel as we kicked up a storm between us. I knew he'd probably never taken it up the ass before but felt absolutely no guilt about taking him on this virgin voyage. In fact it was surprisingly smooth sailing as he'd obviously been brushing and combing his hormones for me since the moment he set eyes on me and couldn't wait to get me inside him. In fact he sucked me in like a boa constrictor swallowing an armadillo. Later when we talked about that mind and butt blowing first time he confirmed everything I said but by then we'd had our own sexual and spiritual confirmation. We had been natural lovers even before our bodies met.

From that first day on the beach we were inseparable and insatiable. We searched each other's inner nooks and crannies to find out how much we could discover about each other, how far we could mutually climb. One of our horniest times was when we celebrated my birthday. If Stevie was the spring flower, I was the autumn leaf. My birthday fell at the end of October when the days were beginning to get hellish short. Fortunately the nights were heavenly long. I came home after work to find Stevie had candles everywhere. He'd also lit a huge log fire.

Stevie joined me in the shower and then opened a bottle of champagne. We didn't bother to dry ourselves but lay wet and dripping on a fur rug in front of the fire watching the shower drops evaporate on our horny, hungry bodies. I nuzzled my nose in his hair. Just as I'd done five years before. The fire crackled erotically and cast a golden glow over everything. It also accentuated the contours of Stevie's butt. The candles seemed to be making love to each other, their flames growing higher and brighter and intermingling. My own candle was growing higher and brighter too and its wick was waxing real strong. My pre-cum glistened like illuminated tear drops in the firelight and I felt my dick flutter and flicker as Stevie's tender tongue washed them all away. I shivered with pleasure. I couldn't wait for him to take me for another trip on his love boat. As if he could read my mind, he reached behind him for some candles and lined them up on my chest. He said he was going to blow them out, one by one, before blowing me. I lay there enraptured marvelling at his creativity. He always knew just how to make me happy. And this was the guy who came to me with no previous experience. I'd give him the blow-job any day!

I winced somewhat as the hot wax fell on my chest and stomach but it was pleasurable pain. Easy to bear. And was more than compensated by the balm of his moist mouth as he played my dick like a flute. And to think I ruined all that sweet music by filling the air with my hollers and honks and nearly pulling his hair out by the roots. I wanted him to start all over again the moment he finished. But it wasn't over yet. You may remember I told you earlier that I'm from Cornwall. Well you probably know Cornwall is famous for its thick Cornish cream and Stevie was very partial to it. He chomped at my dick until he'd devoured every drop of it and licked my platter clean. In fact I surprised myself, and him, by giving him an extra dose. Rarely, if ever, had I come twice in suck-cession and of course this only endeared him to me more.

As you can imagine, life with Stevie was great. What they call heaven on earth. Still that's not to say we didn't have our share of temptations and problems. We looked so happy together, so besotted and blissfully delirious, that nearly every man and woman we met wanted to be with one or both of us. Either to prove they could break us up or to partake in our infectious happiness. Gay,straight, bi. It didn't matter. They were round us like flies round a honey pot.

We had more than a few problems with our families too. Especially Stevie who was from an upright, uptight religious family which probably explained why he'd been a virgin so long. Still they eventually calmed down when it became obvious that I was not just a flash in Stevie's pan. My sister-in-law gave us the hardest time and I was quite relieved when she and my brother moved out of town. I took over their apartment which was a little beyond my means even if I was earning a reasonable salary as assistant account executive in an advertising agency. However, Stevie soon began to get highly paid modelling jobs with a little help from me and my connections and life was good. He was also studying to be a copywriter as he loved playing with words. When he wasn't playing with my dick that is.

We were together for over seven years before that famous itch raised its horny head. Stevie had never had anyone before me and he began to grow curious. I mean some of those modelling guys were so gorgeous and so hot they were difficult to resist. I decided to let him indulge but he said he could only do that if I 'came along for the ride.' We referred to them as 'salad dressing' as we were basically content with what we had already but didn't mind spicing up our sex life with a little Latin Tabasco or Chilean chives. So we had quite a few horny threesomes and foursomes and what Stevie called whoresomes. Once there was this Greek god of a guy called Sam who turned us both on but he had some kind of a hang up about cheating on his wife so asked if we'd mind if he brought her along. We couldn't really say no as she seemed to be part of the package deal. The moment we saw Sam's package we wanted to deal her out but he wasn't having it although he seemed intent on having us. So we played along although the whole thing turned into a bit of a damp squib as Sam, the macho man, wanted one of us to stroke his balls while he fucked her and the other to come all over his face. All both of us wanted to do was suck his fabulous dick or be fucked by him but he kept jabbing it into Mollie, his wife, till she shook the rafters with her orgasm. Sam offered his dick to us afterwards but we didn't fancy it after it had been in her pussy. It would have been like licking somebody else's ice-cream cone.

Still he surprised us one night by turning up unannounced on our doorstep. Pussy was away and Dick wanted to play. He lay naked before us, muscles rippling, gorgeous cock erect and leaking. We could hardly say no. I mean it wouldn't have been erotically correct to turn a bona fide sex visitor away. So we 'accommodated' him as best we could. We fucked and sucked in every combination known to man and I'm sure to a few beasts too. His dick was indelible and his ass was indefatigable and wider than the Holland Tunnel. I'm sure if we'd really put our minds (and dicks) to it we could both have fucked him at the same time. Away from his wife he didn't pussyfoot around. In fact it didn't take us long to find out that he obviously loved dick more than pussy. Couldn't get enough of it either. Closet queen that he was, he raised his horny ass high into the air and sucked me in like a sponge. I'd never experienced such exquisite suction and it was like a melting mound of steaming hot marshmallows in there.

For a moment I almost forgot that Stevie was present. The inside of Sam's ass was so soft, mushy and marvellous. It seemed never ending too. A bottomless pit. He wrapped his hard hairy thighs in a stranglehold round my neck and pulled me towards him as if he, or rather his ass, wanted to swallow me whole. I went 'boating' once more, using his legs first as levers, then as oars and finally as support. My dick began to feel like a deep sea diver and for one moment I thought it might even drown, or drop off in there, but I knew it was going to be a wonderful death. Suddenly I felt a searing pain in my own butt. Stevie was making his presence felt. He'd gotten so excited watching the muscles in my butt doing overtime as I slammed into Sam that before I knew what had hit me he was inside me with his nine inch hotrod and urging me on in my endeavours. Previously I had always been the top and he'd always been happy to play the passive role. Now the tables seemed to have turned. Not to mention the worm.

Gosh his dick felt good in my ass. Better than I could ever have imagined. I was already on cloud nine sailing through Sam's northwest passage and now I was nine inches closer to his sphincter while my own was being splintered by that whelp of a pup spurring me on from behind. Pussy might have been away but the three of us clawed and spat at each other like tomcats. I tell you man, I've never been so aroused before or since and strangely it made me feel even closer to Stevie as we fucked that fucker as one. In fact, we sent hot and cold shivers up Sam the sham as we wham-bammed him until he cried, actually weeped, for mercy. Between us we reduced this big, strong 'straight guy' to a piece of soggy ectoplasm. He spurted cum in one orgasmic, ghostly flood and collapsed like a deflated balloon beneath us.

It was good while it lasted. In fact it was great. But as soon as it was over we wanted to brush Sam and his cumjuice under the carpet and go on with the business of loving each other. We weren't so easily caught in mantraps after that and learned to be more discriminating. I grew to love taking it up the ass. But only from Stevie. In fact I became a veritable butt slut. Maybe I had Sam to thank for that. I don't know if my lovely pup would ever have 'risen to the occasion' if it hadn't been for that valiant attempt to cum to my rescue. A dick in need is a dick indeed.

It was my birthday again recently. Another five years have flown by. I'm thirty-four now. Stevie gave me a cd of Bette Midler singing the Peggy Lee songbook. I thought I was going to hate it but it was great. Fabulous in fact. The Divine Miss M is right back on form. I kissed him and thanked him for ten marvellous years and naturally started calling him Mr. Wonderful. Later that morphed into Stevie Wonder. As I looked at the joy in his puppy-brown eyes, I couldn't for the life of me work out why it had taken me so long to come up with something so obvious. It was the perfect name for him. It had been sitting out there waiting for him all this time. It just took a little longer to find him than I did that's all.