Clark awoke in the darkness with a start, frowning as the ambulance siren that had interrupted his slumber faded into the night. He looked over his shoulder to see that Nick was snoozing away, the boy blushing and giggling when he realized he was still in his friend's embrace. Carefully twisting himself around, Clark soon found himself face to face with the slightly bigger boy. A warm fluttery feeling rose in his smooth, skinny chest as he watched the adorable preteen sleep. That warmth soon spread to the top of his head and the tips of his toes as it became the prickly heat of embarrassment, Clark biting on his bottom lip and whimpering as his boyhood came to life and strained against the front of his tighty whities.
Thinking back, ten was the age at which he started springing stiffies, though it took another year and the advice of some older friends before he learned how to make them go away. By then he could spit out a few clear drops of sticky stuff, but in his current state there was no way his tiny marbles stored even a capful of cum. But maybe, Clark hoped as he hugged Nick a little more tightly, there was truth to the fact that a prepubescent boy could still enjoy a dry climax. At first, the ten-year-old's movements were cautious and quiet, the bedroom still save for the quiet squeaking of the mattress coils as Clark slowly humped his rock-hard dicklet against Nick's groin. Clark groaned as he felt the eleven-year-old's slim prick grow and stiffen against his own. Driven by instinct and his growing ecstasy, he ground harder and buried his face in the crook of Nick's neck to lovingly nuzzle his warm, soft, super-cool friend.
"Clark?"
Clark froze. He looked up to see Nick staring down at him, his eyes moon wide and bright even in the dead of night.
"What are you doing?" Nick asked, his voice breathy and trembling. He didn't pull away but his face - rounded and boyishly handsome against the moonlight - was unreadable.