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Willie
Brat. Slovak for brother.
Although the word I want is the one that best describes my one-hundred-percent Slovak brat's one-hundred-percent Slovak cock.
Big-dick big brat? Nah! Not that Pavel's prick is small. It's just right. Just right two words.
You want big dick, there's mine. My pecker you can't believe. It's long. It's fat. I'm hardly able to get my hand around it. My cockhead would choke a horse before the rest of my prick slid inside.
Nice would work to describe Pavel's dick. Tasty would work, too.
Uncut for sure. When his dick is soft, his foreskin is an attractive snout that reminds me of one of the Demänovská caves. Not one of those linked by underground lakes and waterfalls; one of the smaller caves, with its almost invisible entrance. Once squeezed into, it gets a bit wider but not much. Suddenly, there's this boulder completely blocking the way. That boulder reminds me of Pavel's cockhead locked within its cave-like foreskin. Pavel could describe the cave better. Pavel could even tell you how it was formed. Pavel's a spelunker. He genuinely likes that sort of thing. Caves, especially the Demänovská caves, make me feel closed in.
Back to this one word I look for. Think chemistry class. Think partially filled flask of clear liquid. Think another partially filled flask of clear liquid. Both flasks and liquids seem pretty ordinary. Except, dump one clear liquid into the other, and watch out! I'm talking massive eruption of bubbly froth that's enough to fill seven flasks. It's whatever the word is for whatever causes all that bubbling.Because the first time I saw Pavel's stiff cock, it caused mine to expand and bubble over.
Before that, I'd had more than my share of peeks at Pavel's soft prick. He never went to any great length to hide it. My best trick for a look-see was to wait until he took a bath.
"I have to come in, Pavel. I mean, I really have to come in now. I'm going to wet my pants."
I didn't want to enter and see his bathwater so bubbly as to hide his cock floating below. So, I always waited until any bubbles had plenty of time to pop. Once, though, I waited too long. "Just hold on a minute, pissant, and I'll be on out," he says. And out he came, wrapped in a towel. Which didn't make me too happy.
Of course, once I barged in on his bath-time, I had to make sure I always pissed. No way I could fake it, my dick out and hanging over the toilet. Pavel would likely say, "I thought you had to piss so damned bad!?" I prepared by drinking a lot of water.
All my effort was worth it. There was Pavel's soft dick floating. His cockhead just breaking the surface like a seal come up for a breath of fresh air. His dark pubic hair like seaweed. His hairy balls like two submerged rocks draped in kelp. His sexy nipples like golden sand dollars. His navel a small underwater crevice.
Seeing his cock hard, though, required following him into the woods just behind our house. Quite a stretch of beech and spruce extends all of the way into the High Tatry Mountains. You can get lost in those woods and mountains if you don't know where you're going.
Pavel isn't likely to get lost, though. He knows the forest and mountains for miles around like the back of his hand. For as long as I can remember, he's headed in their direction, every opportunity. He likes to hike. He likes to rock climb. He likes to camp. He likes to...
Well, let me tell you something else he likes.
It wasn't finding him in the woods naked that was the shocker. I knew he stripped off his clothes at the first opportunity. I knew he strolled stark naked along those paths. I'd followed him from a very early age. He's my older brat, right? I had this hero-worship thing (still do). My greatest pleasure was his taking me along on his walks. Not that he ever stripped when I was along. Which is why, I figure, he sometimes made it a point to leave me behind, despite my whining protest--which is why I started giving pursuit.
I wasn't all that good at it in the beginning. More than once, he spotted me and sent me packing. But I got better at it. Until, one day, I was hidden in the bushes when he took off everything except his boots. He stuffed his clothing into his knapsack and strolled off, merry-as-you-please. His soft prick moved this way and that atop the hairy cushion of his balls.
I've never been as confident in the woods and mountains as Pavel was and is. I don't think he ever sees a forest, or a cave, or a gully as something scary. I, though, had a stretch of childhood when those very things seemed out to get me. It was only my desire to be with Pavel that enabled me to dare those woods, those caves, those gullies. Most times, even then, I turned back early.
Then one particular day, he not only didn't ask me along, he didn't even tell me he was heading on out. It was just my good luck that I saw him going. Just luck, too, that I didn't have anything else to do.
I shadowed him to his usual spot for taking off his clothes. I followed from there and eventually passed the farthest point I'd reached until then.
Suddenly, he disappeared. One minute, there, the next not. I suspected forest gnomes, goblins, witches, ogres.
I wanted to rescue Pavel from whatever his scary fate, but I also wanted to get out of there, fast, and save myself. I hadn't decided which I'd do when I spotted the animal trail. It led off the main path at an angle that made it hard to see.
I headed off, and made sure to note landmarks. No way I wanted to end up lost in those woods and mountains.
A short way down the path, I spotted Pavel backed up against a giant spruce.
I thought his hard cock was part of the tree. I thought it was a low-growing branch that he'd straddled, like he'd straddle a fence. Wrong!
He held his swollen dick in his hand. His boner poked straight up from his belly and from his balls. He didn't just hold his cock, either. He pumped it like sixty, his cockhead sliding free of his foreskin on every downward stroke.
It was marvelous! It was fascinating! It was mystifying!
I was hypnotized. I couldn't take my eyes off his fist moving up and down ... up and down ... up and down. I couldn't get enough of his cockhead shooting the sleeve of his foreskin, then sliding back inside. I kept thinking of a train going in and out ... in and out ... of a tunnel.
He talked to himself. "Feels sooo good! Oh, does it get any better than this? Big dick. Big Tree. Big forest. Big mountains. Soon-to-be big cream. Want to cream. Want to blast. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yes, yes, yes."
He pressed his head back into the tree trunk. He licked his lips. Although his ass stayed pretty much anchored, there was a bit of forward and back bounce. Every time his hand swooped down his stiff pecker, his hips pushed his cock on through. Every time his hand climbed his cock, his hips tugged his cock back.
His left hand cupped his hairy nuts and kneaded his scrotum.
"Chew my big hairy gonads!" he said. "Eat my hot, heavy balls. I'll give you white-hot Slovak-boy cream for dessert."
I was so busy watching that I was completely caught off guard by what began to happen in my pants. I'd shown few signs of puberty, so no one suspected I had reached it yet. The one notable crack in my voice caused my sestra to ask me if I had a frog in my throat. I had no chest hair. I had no pubic hair. Only a couple days before, having spotted Pavel naked in his bedroom, I'd innocently asked, "When will I get hair down there, like you have?"
Before that day in the forest, whatever pleasure I got from seeing Pavel naked hadn't given me a boner. It had just made me feel good. So, I was surprised by pleasure so dead-center the V of my thighs.
My pecker did this little dance. I had to manhandle the crotch of my pants to help my thickening dick move into a more comfortable position. Touching my dick, even through my pants and undershorts, was pleasurably painful. I was so caught up in it, I didn't make the connection right away between what was happening to my cock and what Pavel did to his pecker.
Electricity jolted me from my crotch to my head, to the ends my toes, to the tips of my fingers--so pleasurable it was frightening. Even more frightening was the sudden wetness at my groin.
I thought I'd pissed my pants. Not that bed-wettings had ever been all that pleasurable.
It was only when I focused back on Pavel that I saw his cock and fingers frosted with wet, white goo. Even as I watched, his dick erupted with another cummy bullet. I thought for sure it was going to shoot all of the way to where I hid and splat down at my feet.
I scrunched deeper into the bush. I fished my right hand into my trousers and underpants. My fingers came back covered with goo similar to what slicked Pavel's dick. I would have been concerned, except Pavel seemed so unconcerned.
"Good ... good ... good!" he said. I remember it to this day. All the while, his fist pumped his already exploded dick. His other hand squeezed and massaged his cum-emptied nuts. His smile said all there was to say about his opinion of his mess.
Right then and there, I decided my creamy stuff, definitely not piss, needed more exploration. Exploration I've done ever since. Exploration far more fun than nosing around within the guts of some cave, or tramping some wooded trail, or swimming another glacier-fed river.
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