There really, really needs to be more Stan/Ike fics on here. I'm completely serious. It's one of my oh so guilty pleasures, and there needs to be more of it!!
So... I wrote this fic backwards, kinda - started with the sex and then back tracked to fill in the plot. There are probably a lot of errors in here (grammatically and spelling wise) but that's only because every time I go back to proofread it... I have something else come up that requires my attention *ahem*.... Yes.
Warning! This smut fic actually has a plot! If you don't care about the romantic relationship that grows between Stan and Ike or any the events that lead up to their sexual encounter and just want the booty, then skip to the fourth line break.
Disclaimer: I am not a pedophile, I swear. But you have to admit, the illicitness of Stan and Ike's relationship makes it that much better, doesn't it? I repeat... I am not a pedophile, really I'm only 17, so... I don't own South Park or any characters therein either.
Accede Acquiescence to the Alluring Adolescent
"You have to do something about this."
Stan shrank away with an annoyed groan. "I knew it," he said, licking his lips, still feeling them tingle from Kyle's kiss. "I just knew it. We never make out for the sake of making out anymore! There's always a catch, some way or another."
"Please," Kyle begged, leaning across the stoop, supporting the feline-esque arch of his back with the heels of his hands. Stan rolled his eyes at the futile advances. It was always the same: Kyle would put Stan up to something, stringing him along with the promise of sex, and then make up some excuse to not follow through. They were 18 for Christ's sake – the scientifically proven peak of their male sexual existence! The least they could do is fuck twice a week rather than twice a month. Stan's libido was starved for attention….
"He's your brother," Stan growled, springing onto the soles of his feet and stretching his legs. Already the Colorado skyline was beginning to twilight, forming a heavenly sea of purples and oranges. Hanging out in front of Kyle's house was the couple's new favorite pastime, but it was starting to lose its luster, even with the romantic, vespertine backdrop. "You should handle it, not me!"
Kyle shivered melodramatically and mockingly retched. "Yeah, but he keeps asking me gay questions," he whined. "And not gay as in 'stupid,' but gay as in 'does anal hurt when you first stick it up your ass?' Jesus, dude, I thought having a gay younger brother would open us up to more bonding opportunities, but I didn't know that meant I had to give him the talk."
"Incest?" Stan prodded, unable to reign in his wit.
"You know what I mean," the other grumbled, resting his chin into the palms of his hands. Stan was a little unsettled by his response – it was completely lacking the fiery Kyle's usual temper. He was starting to realize that this genuinely was a serious issue for his boyfriend. Stan made his way back to Kyle and sat down, wrapping his arm lovingly around him and playing with his crimson locks.
"Look," he cooed softly, trying to be the voice of reason. "Ike just turned 13 a few weeks ago, right? He's probably going through a lot changes, you know how that is. And on top of that, he's beginning to discover his sexuality, and that has got to be scary for him. He needs someone to look up to and ask questions to… and we all know he can't ask your parents – I mean, they already stumbled through the homo version of the talk with you, nobody expects them to do it again – so really, his only option is his older brother."
The only reply was a begrudging nod. "Be a man, Kyle," Stan continued, shaking him gently with his arm. "You know the ropes about the gay lifestyle. And just think of how much your bro with appreciate you for it. He's a fucking teenager now, from this point on his hormones are going to convince him that he hates your guts! That hell will last for years, dude. This may be your last chance to really bond with Ike. And if you don't take him up on his eagerness to be with you now… you might seriously come to regret it someday."
Kyle lifted up his eyes to Stan, his lips parting in a coy, somewhat embarrassed, grin. "I already promised Ike you'd do it."
"Grrr!" Stan snarled, bolting to his feet again in frustration. "God damn it! And I was so sure that speech was gonna persuade you!" He paced back and forth, his mind a fog of conjecture. With a sudden pivot, he turned to face Kyle again. "What makes you think I can talk about this with a kid any better than you?"
"I dunno," Kyle shrugged, pursing his lips in defiance. "And I don't care. Just as long as it isn't me, dude."
"How can you be so thoughtless?" Stan asked, throwing his hands into the air. "He's your brother, not mine. Besides, I would think you'd relish the act of giving Ike a lecture."
"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Kyle snapped, standing up and placing his hands on his hips.
"Are you guys fighting about me?"
The two teens whirled around at the same time, watching Ike step out onto the porch with a dejected looking face. He was wearing a light blue jacket with a navy blue t-shirt and dark beige khaki's. He was holding a can of grape pop gingerly in his hand as he gazed past his raven locks at floor in shame.
"No," Stan comforted in a sanguine tone. "That wasn't fighting. We weren't fighting, right, Kyle?"
"Yeah," Kyle agreed, moving his head in a confusing cross between a nod and a shake. "Sure, we were arguing, but there's a huge difference between fighting and arguing."
Ike didn't look convinced. "All I did was ask a few questions," he murmured. "I didn't know everybody was going to get so angry about it."
"We're not angry! It's just difficult trying to figure out what to say." Kyle trailed off, darting his emerald eyes back and forth, searching for the right words. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was inane babbling that made absolutely no sense. Kyle really wasn't any good at this, was he? Stan rolled his eyes and breathed out a defeated sigh.
"Ike," he called, extending his reach towards the boy. "Come on, we'll go someplace private."
Both Kyle and Ike's faces lit up; Ike's because he was finally going to get some answers and Kyle's because he wasn't going to be the one doing the answering. The older brother caringly took the can of soda from Ike and patted him on the head, wishing him good luck. The young boy cheerfully skipped down the driveway and to the front seat of Stan's awaiting car.
Stan tossed his jacket at Kyle who just barely caught it, and foraged for his keys in his jeans' pocket. "I seriously owe you one, Stan," Kyle smirked, unable to stop himself from doing a little dance – he was just that relieved. The other teen didn't say anything, feeling completely whipped, and merely offered a spiteful wave over his shoulder as a goodbye.
Many times Stan thought to turn on the radio in an attempt to drown out the awkward silence between him and Ike, but the more he considered it, the more he deemed it to be rude. Ike looked up to him and really wanted nothing more than to hang out with an esteemed adult, that much was obvious (if his excited squirming in the passenger seat was any evidence to go by). If he turned on the radio or popped in a CD, wouldn't it look like he wasn't actually interested in helping the boy?
After a few minutes of silence, Ike started rummaging around in Stan's glove compartments. He picked out one or two CD cases and mulled over them for a while before sliding one inside. Stan raised his eyebrows. Fall Out Boy. A little mainstream for Stan's taste, but hell, he remembered when he was that age – what it was like to relate to the angsty, rebellious lyrics of alternative rock. Guess he couldn't blame the kid.
"So… who tops, you or my brother?"
"Oooookey-dokey," Stan sang, feeling a crimson blush creep across his face. "This spot looks as good as any." He twisted the steering wheel and coasted gradually onto the side of the road. It was a pretty convenient stop; they were probably only a short walk away from Stark's Pond.
"I always assumed you were top," Ike continued, seemingly oblivious to Stan's adverse behavior to this topic. "I mean, you're strong and good looking. More masculine than Kyle, anyway. You make me feel safe when you're around… caring. I would think that's how someone who tops should feel." They walked together through the tall grass before the younger dark haired boy sat himself down on the lone, rickety bench that over looked Stark's Pond, the evening horizon becoming less of a dull orange and more of an opaque purple.
Stan tapped a pack of cigarettes in his hand, not joining the youth at his seat, and instead sufficed himself to stay standing, pulling one of the Marlboro's out by his teeth. "Look here," Stan huffed, scrounging through his pockets for a lighter. "That whole thing is just a big stereotype of the gay community. There's no such thing as being top or bottom, not in most cases at least. It's just an unfortunate misconception that we either can't break or don't give enough of a shit to try and break it. Most gay men would prefer to be labeled 'versatile,' as they could go either way."
Ike nodded in understanding, watching slack-jaw with a small mote of disgust as Stan raised his recently acquired lighter to his lips, cupping his hand to brace the flame against the shallow wind. He felt the boy's hard glare on him and cocked an eyebrow. "What?"
"I didn't know you smoked," Ike admitted, looking sad – whether it was because he disapproved of Stan's habit or if he was disappointed in himself for not being observant enough, Stan couldn't tell.
"Don't worry," the older teen sighed, begrudgingly letting that all-important first drag slip from him like a dilapidated orgasm. "I don't chain. I'm an anxiety smoker. I'd be hard pressed to go through a single pack in less than four months."
"Anxiety smoker?" Ike repeated, the words tasting false on his tongue.
"Yeah, I only need a cig when I'm nervous."
"So… I make you nervous…." The hurt in Ike's voice was almost tragic, and Stan felt his heart go out to him.
"Ike," he whispered gently, sitting down next to the teen. "You're a big kid now, right? You're smart about lots of things… smarter than I was at your age, in any case. You have to understand how… delicate a situation like this can be. I mean, nobody likes giving the talk. Sex is something really easy to do, but talking about it? That scares people. A lot. I don't really know why it does, but I can feel it too, even now."
"What could possibly be so frightening?" Ike implored, clenching his hands around his knees and staring into the sunset's reflection misting across the water. Their silence hung dead in the air before Stan got the courage to reply.
"I guess," he started, tapping out the smoldering cigarette. "Sex is the gravest loss of innocence. There are many points in your life when feel 'adult.' Your first kiss, your first job, your first taste of alcohol… but sex? Dude, sex is the point of no return. It's final. When you've matured enough to have sex, it's overwhelmingly liberating… but it's also horrifying to realize that… you can never go back to just being a kid anymore. That innocence is long gone."
"And you're afraid that if you tell me about it, you will, in some indirect way, be responsible for me losing my innocence."
Stan chuckled under his breath, the last remnants of smoke leaking from between his lips. "Did I mention that you're one smart little kid?"
"I'm not a kid," Ike grumbled indignantly. "I'm a teenager."
Stan's eye mooned over and he smiled at the strangely romantic atmosphere. He reached out his hand and patted Ike over the head, letting his arm fall across the boy's shoulder, playing with his black hair. They sat there for a while, the stillness of Stark's Pond enrapturing them, neither one of them feeling too close or too far.
"Isn't homosexuality a sin?" Ike asked, laying down his silverware in a contemplative trance. Stan didn't hear him at first. Not only was Benny's a busy restaurant with a low din covering their conversation, he was also too busy mentally counting the money he had in his wallet, hoping he wouldn't have to pay for their meal with his debit card. God damn it, he really needed to get a job….
"Stan?" the other called, and Stan bolted upright. "I thought being gay was a sin."
"Yeah, dude, but… uh," he picked at his waffle with his fork, hungry, but not too hungry. It was Ike's idea to have breakfast at ten o'clock at night. "Aren't you Jewish? What does the Torah say?"
"I don't really know," Ike said, smiling sheepishly. "I usually just fall asleep when we go to our synagogue."
"Isn't the Torah just the Old Testament of the Bible?"
"I don't know," Ike said again. "I'm Jewish."
Stan rolled his eyes. "Right, no need to be so snippy, dude." He steeped himself in thought for a minute, trying to recollect everything he knew on this subject. "Well, in Catholicism, yeah, technically it's a sin. Not that I give a shit anyway – haven't been to church in forever. Just don't care enough, you know? But I seriously can't answer anything for sure about what Judaism says. That's something you'd definitely have to ask your brother."
Ike looked away, the mention of his brother making the air stale. "What about masturbation?"
"That's when you use your hands to – "
"No!" Ike interrupted, a laugh sprouting up within his throat. "I know what masturbating is, I've done it before! I wanted to know if that was a sin, too." Stan's face flushed away as he realized just what he was about to say. Ike must have seen his mortified expression, because he sniggered again. "But I'm glad you're so eager to answer my questions. Thank you for that."
"Um," Stan stuttered, still caught off guard by the question and the unforeseen swell of pride that suddenly inflated in his chest. Ike was a really cool kid, he had to admit. "I'm not entirely sure if it is one… maybe? Look, dude, I'm really not that religious. I think, shockingly enough, that I would be more comfortable answering your questions about sex."
"Really?" Ike gawked, genuinely astonished.
"Yeah," Stan drawled, dramatically rolling his eyes. "Religion is another topic that scares people… only because it usually ends up with someone being punched in the face."
The seat groaned as another body slid into the booth, gliding his hands over the table and pushing Stan in the far corner against the wall. He was wearing a gray, long-sleeved shirt with black stripes and dark jeans that fit snuggly against his legs. With a flip of his fringe, red highlights could be seen streaking from the roots of his hair. "God, this place if full of such conformist assholes, you can't get away from them," he spat, his voice gruff with disdained inflection.
"Nice to see you, too, Red," Stan mumbled, resting his head lazily into his hand, propped up by his elbow.
"Whatever," the new kid sighed, pulling out a cigarette from nowhere and lighting it up. Ike shrank away as two more people showed up; a girl who sat down beside him and another boy who remained standing. They were all smoking. "Dude, Raven, we so need to hang out more. Life sucks it hard with only the three of us."
"Hi, Henrietta," Stan greeted, coyly ignoring Red's pleas. "How've you been?"
"My world is an endless abyss that encompasses everything, darkness swirling like a pool in which I'm drowning; together, all those that society has cast aside fall into the blackness, and are never seen again. Plus, my mom's a bitch."
"Good," Stan answered shortly. Ike seemed concerned, but Stan wordlessly looked at him with a smile, and the younger teen seemed to relax beneath his glance. As long as he kept staring at Stan, it didn't matter what they came up against – he knew everything would turn out okay.
"Georgie, who's the shrimp?" Red commanded, jabbing his finger at Ike from across the table. Both Stan and Ike glanced up to see the third goth kid take a drag from his cig and blow out a stream of smoke. He had on a tight, black t-shirt and black checkered shorts with suspenders that hung idle at his sides. Not to mention a surprisingly tasteful amount of eye shadow darkening his face.
"Ike Broflovski," he said, toneless. "Thirteen, my grade, straight A student, adopted, Canadian descent." He took another breath from his cigarette and smirked. "He's a fag."
Ike grimaced and inched away again as Red let out a raspy guffaw. "So sorry, Stan," he chortled, mordantly. "Didn't know we were intruding on your date."
"Look at the little guy, though," Henrietta grinned, a little maliciously. She leaned in and gave Ike a once over with a scrutinizing eye. "He's got nonconformist potential. We should keep a look out for him in the future."
"Speaking of which," Stan chimed in, letting the insults roll off his shoulders. "Where's Curly?"
"Graduated last year," Red answered, a smoke ring acting as punctuation to his sentence. "Up at Colorado State. He still comes back and chills with us every once in a while. Says the goth scene up there is to die for."
Georgie didn't say anything. He merely stood there, never once taking his eyes off of Ike.
"We got our own table to crash at," Henrietta pointed out, getting up from the booth. "We'll be here all night if you wanna drop by again."
"See ya, Raven," Red said, placing his hand onto Stan's shoulder as a goodbye gesture before slipping from the table.
"Bye, Ike," Georgie mumbled, trailing behind the other two, leaving his eyes to linger on the other teen's boyish frame… dropping his gaze a few times below the belt.
"You're friends with those people?" Ike asked hurriedly as soon as they were out of earshot.
"They're the ones who turned me on to smoking," Stan confirmed with a soft smile. "But relax, dude, seriously. They're good people, if you can get past the melancholy."
"But…" Ike whimpered, sounding derided. "They made fun of us."
"Who, Red?" Stan asked with a quick snort. "No, that's just how he is. It's all in good humor."
"He called me a fag…."
Stan blinked and lowered his gaze in understanding. He slinked from his side of the table and joined Ike in the other booth. He didn't know why. He just thought that Ike needed someone to be close with. "Georgie didn't mean anything by it. He probably just said that to catch your attention… make you realize he knew about you. In a strange… somewhat offensive way… he was making sure you knew he cared."
The older teen readjusted on the seat, subconsciously drawing himself closer to Ike. "He probably likes you."
"Likes me? B-but… but I'm –"
"Smart," Stan finished, nudging Ike with his elbow. "And funny. And really, really attractive. Not to mention adorable and precocious. Talented. Need I go on? And it's not like you're campy, Ike. No one can tell you're gay unless they have gaydar themselves. And since Georgie knew your orientation just by looking at you, that means that he's probably gay too."
"You really think so?"
"South Park's really getting with the times," Stan mused, finding himself putting his arm around Ike again. "Me and Kyle… we were the only gay kids in town when we were your age. Now look at it. Homo love is in the air, dude. If I were you, I'd hop on board and ask Georgie out. You're one sexy kid, Ike. He'd have to be a complete idiot to not want to go out with you."
"And have sex with me?"
Stan blushed, feeling his arm twitch around the boy a little… a little possessively.
"Yeah… if you really wanted."
Stan and Ike sat on the stoop right in front of the Broflovski household. They hadn't gone inside yet, even though Kyle offered. They just both felt like spending a little more time alone together, regardless of the fact that Ike had run out of questions to ask Stan an hour ago. It was getting close to one in the morning, but they weren't tired in the least. However, Stan could feel a tension around them… was that… was that sexual tension?
Ike fell against Stan's strong shoulder and sighed up to the stars as they winked across the blue midnight canvas. Stan could feel the boy's heart rushing faster and he instinctively wrapped his arm around Ike, pulling him closer.
"I like it when you touch me."
"T-touch you?" Stan twitched, going rigid. Ike looked up, a little bewildered.
"When you put your arm around my shoulder like that… and play with my hair. I really like it. I feel like I can trust you."
"Oh," Stan breathed, chuckling warmly. "Ike, another thing: 'touching' sometimes has more than one connotation. It can also be a sexual reference."
"Oh," Ike said. He didn't deny or confirm whether he had intended it to be a sexual reference. "I… have another question, Stan."
"Why is it that every time I meet my ideal boyfriend… he's going out with my brother?"
Stan felt his heart skip a beat. "I… I don't know. Maybe you have just as horrible taste in men as your brother does."
"Every time I imagine my life ten years from now," Ike continued, staring dreamily into the night. "I always picture myself with someone who's exactly like you. Tall and brave. Handsome and kind. He'll wrap his arm around me when I'm scared and whisper that everything will be alright." Ike nuzzled in closer – he couldn't get enough of the warmth that was emanating from Stan's body.
"I know this is wrong," the boy assured him, his voice falling. "I know that it's against the law and I know that you're madly in love with Kyle. And if you feel anything towards me, anything at all, I know that it's probably just a passing lust. But… you're just so amazing, Stan. I can't help but feel this way towards you."
The young teen drew in closer, practically sitting on top of the other. Stan caved in and messaged Ike's back. "It's just," Ike said, his words becoming muffled with blossoming tears. "It's just the thought of sex really does scare me. Doing something so life changing… losing my innocence to some complete stranger I only think I know. It's frightening!"
Stan felt his shirt get wet as Ike sobbed into him, nudging his face embarrassedly into Stan's chest. "I always thought… that I would lose my virginity to somebody I trust. But how can you know? How can you ever be sure?! I'm scared, Stan. What if I get hurt? Answer me that! What if I get hurt? How could I ever get my innocence back?" Stan didn't answer. He let Ike cry on his shoulder, rubbing his back lovingly. It took a few minutes, but the boy finally dried his tears and sat up, sniffing.
Stan brushed Ike's hair, leaned over, and kissed him affectionately on the top of his head.
"Ike," he began in a low voice. "You can't tell anybody."
Ike started upright, gazing at Stan wide eyed.
"Do you understand me? I could get in serious, serious trouble! You cannot tell anybody."
Ike gawked at him, a wide smile spreading from ear to ear, dancing in glee across his lips. With a wild shake of his head, Ike nodded passionately, letting Stan grasp his hand gently and guide him inside.
"What do we do first?" Ike asked, timorously huddling into himself. He was poised on his bed spread, his arms wrapped about his legs, and his chin resting idly on his knees. Stan couldn't deny that he was cute.
"Well, there is such a thing as foreplay," Stan started, pacing around the room after closing the door. He had to kick away a few stray articles of clothing that Ike had left on the floor, but he didn't judge the boy for his mess – after all, he was a young teen once, too.
"What's that?" the younger kid implored, sounding excited. Stan stopped where he was and debated in his mind again whether this was a good idea or not. But seeing Ike on that comforter seemed to compel him. It was only one time, right? What's one time?
"Okay," Stan huffed, plopping down next to Ike so close that the boy actually lost his balance and fell into Stan's lap. He gasped and looked up with startled eyes, his fingers absently groping across the older teens chest. "That's alright," he assured in a low voice. "You don't have to be nervous. If you're nervous now, when nothing has happened yet, then we certainly shouldn't go any further."
"I want to!" Ike answered hurriedly, even before the sentence was punctuated.
Stan wrapped his arm around Ike, still in bewilderment about how much taller he was than the budding adolescent; when standing, he towered nearly two heads above Ike. And compared to his own athletically built body, Ike looked tiny and almost anorexic, even though he wasn't. Stan ran his hand through Ike's soft shocks of hair and rubbed his head lovingly, the boy melting into his embrace like a kitten.
"Foreplay can consist of many things," Stan instructed, letting his fingers trail along Ike's already trembling frame. He pulled the small teen in closer – so close that Ike could hear Stan's steady heart thump warmly behind his ribcage. "It really all depends on the people performing. There are different fetishes and ways to go about foreplay… uh, we won't go into that… but almost all of them consist of physical contact."
"T-touching?" Ike stammered, breathing harder.
"Yes," Stan confirmed. "Even something as simple as we're doing now, holding each other, can be considered foreplay. Foreplay can last as long as you want it to, but from my experience, the climax is always better the more time invested."
"We'll get to that later."
Stan repositioned the two of them so that Ike was lying down on his back, feeling a little guilty that he was already starting to get an erection. "Kissing," he said lustfully, holding down Ike's wrists as he would Kyle's, brushing his nose along the nape of Ike's exposed neck. "Is an important, but not necessary, part of foreplay."
He placed a single kiss along Ike's soft flesh and could feel the young boy's heart flutter faster. Stan moved across the clavicle bone, leaving a trail of ginger pecks in his wake. He stretched the collar of Ike's shirt down and revealed more of his chest, lacing the alabaster skin with kisses until Ike groaned in satisfaction. Stan forced him palm onto Ike's front, brushing against his nipple, and the round spot instantly became pert, visible through the cotton fibers of the shirt.
Stan breathed hotly on Ike, and the boy squirmed beneath his grasp, scrunching up his face not in apprehension, but pleasure. Stan opened his mouth and enveloped Ike's adam's apple with his lips, sucking ever so slightly. He moved on and brandished his teeth, biting down on the moist flesh just beneath Ike's jaw bow.
"B-biting…" Ike observed, one eye clenched shut involuntarily. It looked like he was trying his hardest to keep watching, wanting to drink in the experience with every single one of his senses.
"Don't worry," Stan mumbled between nips, Ike's neck growing red with the illustrious deed. "This are is very sensitive, and very enjoyable if you do it right." Ike made no further objection.
With a breathless gasp, Stan returned his attention Ike's eyes. They gazed at each other in the dim, evening light, both of their eyes shining brightly. Stan leaned in and landed his lips onto Ike's in a passionate embrace. He trailed his tongue along Ike lips, and the young boy must have gotten the message. He willingly opened his mouth and let Stan in, their tongue wrestling wetly with each other. Stan was dominant, being more experienced and less timid than Ike.
"C-can… can I kiss you too?" Ike asked, and Stan had to smile at his childish sincerity.
"As long as your lover doesn't disapprove or say anything," Stan began, letting his hands fall underneath Ike's shirt and lifting it up, "then you can do anything you want. Rule of thumb is: the bedroom is no place to be shy, Ike. Confidence during sex speaks volumes."
Ike let his t-shirt be separated from him, and he felt liberated. Almost as if a protective second skin had just been removed. He reached his hands hesitantly up to Stan, running them across the hard muscles of the older boy that were still concealed from view. He struggled to lean forward and take the shirt off, and in the end, Stan had to help him, throwing the barring article down to the carpeted floor with surprising haste. He bent down again and took Ike into a powerful kiss, letting their warm flesh touch each other.
With a gentle nudge, Ike forced Stan to back off. The older teen sat back on his haunches, staring on as Ike went to work on his belt. The over-eager fingers that were normally so nimble and spry were fidgeting mindlessly, so much so that Ike could even pull the belt free. Stan simpered and reached down, taking Ike's hands in his. Together, they freed the belt… unlocked the brass button… and slowly unzipped the guarding fly.
Panting harder, sweat already beginning to form over his naked chest, Ike widened the jeans' flap and moved his hand closer. He looked up to Stan, wide eyed, pleading silently for approval. Stan smiled back down at him, pushing his crotch closer to the hand, whispering, "Confidence, Ike. Confidence."
The young boy swallowed and reached out further, fondling hesitantly with the elastic of Stan's boxers. With a sharp breath, Ike dug his hand down inside the hot confines, gasped, and almost immediately jarring his hand free again. He took a moment to collect himself before returning to the intimidating area, nestling his hand deep into Stan's pants. "So much hair," he marveled, nearly breathless.
"You'll grow some, too," Stan assured, reveling in Ike's nervous advances as he twirled with the wiry strands that covered his base, inching closer to his manhood. "Kyle and I usually shave down there before sex, but… he hasn't put out in a while, so there hasn't been any need for me to do so." Ike nodded, enraptured with the seemingly foreign idea of hair around the penis. Stan laughed. "Like it?"
Ike nodded again, and Stan pulled his jeans away, leaving nothing on him but his underwear, in which Ike was still exploring. He would brush along his cock, feel it twitch at his fingertips and smile as it grew larger in anticipation. Stan returned the gesture by reaching back and rubbing his hand along Ike's thigh, creating sweet friction between his leg and khaki's.
Ike cringed, withdrawing his hands back into him and clenched his jaw. "Oh, Stan!" he practically yelled. "T-touching… that feels so good when you touch my dick!"
Stan stopped cold.
"Touching your what?"
Ike seemed to be startled and cowered away shyly. "I mean… p-penis? Am I not allowed to say dick? I'm sorry."
Rubbing his hand along Ike's pants again, Stan actually looked down this time and saw the large rise in the fabric on which he was caressing. Dumbfounded, Stan halted all pretenses and frantically tore away Ike's khaki's and underwear all together.
Like a slowly rising girder, the pillar of flesh peeled itself away from Ike's sweaty thigh and drifted into the air in rigid erection. Stan's breath literally escaped him as he gawked at the sight. It was long. It was thick. It was huge. It was Ike's fucking penis!
"H-have you," Stan said, his voice cracking. "Have you measured that at all?"
"Last time I masturbated," Ike began tentatively, "I did measure it. I was just curious. But it's uh… what was it… eleven inches –"
"Eleven inches!" Stan shrieked in echo. "No, no, no, no, this can't be happening. This just can't be real. Ike… you're a fucking beast! What the fuck?"
"Is that bad?" Ike trembled, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.
"Ike," Stan breathed, still staring in amazement. "That's fucking incredible! Unprecedented! I've seen porn stars thirty years older than you with cocks half your size! Hell, even Kyle and I are only a little more than six inches. But eleven?! Fuck!"
The endowed teen awkwardly lowered his hands and stroked his gargantuan shaft, his hands being dwarfed in comparison to the heated flesh of his dick. He couldn't even wrap his fingers around the wrist thick rod. After a while, still uneasy and shy, he reached lower and played with his balls to distract himself from Stan's compliments. The orbs were just as foreboding, practically the size of Ike's own fist. He pinched at his flesh and averted his gaze as Stan remained frozen in shock.
"I want that," Stan murmured under his breath. "I fucking… want that." Without waiting for Ike to question him, Stan bolted from the bed and pulled a portable bottle of lube from his jeans (so he was expecting to woo Kyle into have sex today; who knew it would actually be with his brother?).
If Stan wanted to be honest, up until this point, he was imagining Kyle in Ike's place, if but to make the situation less awkward. When he kissed Ike, he was really kissing Kyle. When he touched Ike, he was really touching Kyle. But now, the only thing he was thinking of was: Ike, Ike, Ike, Ike, Ike, Ike, Ike! The inexplicably revealed sex god! Really, who the fuck would have known?
Stan hovered over Ike's tender body, examining every nook of the boy's pale skin. His eleven inch cock looked even larger in comparison to his slender, teenage frame. Stan couldn't keep himself from staring; the circumcised mushroom head throbbed hotly, sending pulses along his shaft, causing his heavy balls to flinch with every heart beat. It was mesmerizing to watch the young boy sprawl out on his bed and pant, heaving his chest up and down with lascivious gasps.
Swallowing dryly, Stan moved closer, lighting his fingers over Ike's boyhood (what an ironic term – this penis was far from being put into the category of 'boy'). The thing jumped at his touch and Ike sort of whimpered in expectation, his muscles tightening with delight. Stan grabbed hold of the thick flesh and gave it a few tentative pumps up and down, marveling that he actually had to use both of his hands just to jerk the kid off.
The veins running along Ike's shaft surged with blood as Stan continued to do his best at giving him a hand job. Ike cringed and turned his head, biting into his bed's pillow. Stan had to catch his breath as Ike's member engorged between his fingers, spreading out wider and growing nearly another inch in length. "Getting so hard," Ike whispered as he bit down on the pillow. "So hard it… it hurts."
"It's okay Ike," Stan assured him, breathless. "You're just… amazing." That wasn't what Stan had wanted to say, but his tongue refused to cooperate, taking on a mind of its own. It was getting more difficult for him to control his urges, but he knew he had to take it slow. With the lube left on Ike's dresser, Stan lathered Ike up, also rubbing some along his entrance. He couldn't help but feel a little demeaned – Ike was five years younger than him and yet he was going to top?!
Stan placed his own dick up against Ike's and compared sizes one last time. He was only six inches… and Ike was nearly twelve. Oh yeah… this was extremely demeaning….
With a surprisingly lustful moan, Stan positioned himself over Ike, lowering his ass down so that the tip of Ike's member just caressed his hole. He could feel the warm pre-come already oozing along his soft skin and a shiver tore itself up his spine. "W-wait," Ike stuttered. "Are you gonna… but I thought you were… this isn't what I imagined…."
Ike bit off his comments in a rush of air as Stan gave into gravity. He planted himself directly onto Ike's throbbing head, his nerve receptors shooting off like fireworks. Stan tried to stop himself from groaning, but it was futile as the elation burst from his throat regardless. And Ike hadn't even entered him yet.
Stan's hole stretched as he tried to sit atop the impossible length. He gritted his teeth in pain as the tight ring of muscle along his anus contracted, kissing the tip of Ike's cock. Stan tried harder, fighting against the rational side of his brain that was screaming: "You fucking idiot! This is going to fucking hurt like never fucking before you fucking asshole!"
Ignoring his own words of caution, Stan sank further down, feeling his ass split as he skewered himself on Ike's rod. Wider and wider and wider, inching slowly down the mushroom head, feeling his flesh tear at the size of it. There was a sharp pain as Stan felt a trickle of blood escape from him, but he pressed on with even more fervor. Ike had split him, and it was painful… something Kyle had never come close to doing. In spite of the agony, Stan couldn't help but feel excited.
At last the spade of Ike's head punctured through into the tight chasms of Stan's body and he slid relatively easily down from there. He landed his butt onto Ike's torso, his chiseled and tone body a stark juxtaposition to the younger boy's. Stan could even feel the prepubescent pubic hair that had only recently just sprung about the base of Ike's god like dick.
Stan, penetrated and in searing torture from the foreign mass inside him, reached behind himself and took hold of one of Ike's balls. He only grabbed one because every time he tried to grasp both, the other would slip from his hand; they were both so huge that Stan's palm was only big enough to hold one at a time. He felt his own testicles draw up to his body even as Ike's remained loose, hanging low and heavy.
"W-what should I…" Ike started, his arms twitching as if he had no idea what to do with them. "How… am I… to…."
"Go ahead and thrust inside," Stan coaxed with a guttural choke. He wasn't sure if he was ready to have Ike tear into him, but by the feeling of the iron pole inside him, Ike certainly was. "You know… it's just like masturbation just… instead of your hands, you use me."
Ike gulped timidly, staring on in apprehension. After a few excruciating minutes, he gave a very timid thrust of his hips.
"Aaah!" Stan yelled, his insides stuffed full to bursting. That one push, even though it was small and half hearted, was enough to force all of the organs in Stan's body to shift within his chest. He felt his ass curl inside itself, dragged along by the friction of the gigantic cock. Stan felt himself start to bleed again, ruptured deep inside, deeper than anyone had ever reached before. And Ike had barely even put any strength behind it.
Ike drew back, pulling himself out a few inches as Stan wobbled on his haunches, supporting himself with his hands on the bed – it was all he could do without falling over. As Ike pulled away, Stan's insides lurched, being drawn down. Ike gasped in wonder as he watched the lips of Stan's entrance slide out along with his penis a good two inches, clinging to his shaft like a tight mouth.
Losing his inhibitions, Ike licked his lips and thrusted again, a little harder this time. Stan shrieked, the long member gliding powerfully along his prostate. Kyle had been able to hit it before, if he shoved hard and fast enough; but Ike's meek push inside completely obliterated Stan's sweet spot. And Ike wasn't even trying to hit it! But honestly, with a dick as huge as his, how could he miss?
Stan quivered on top of the small boy, sweating profusely. He leaned forward, panting uncontrollably as his own cock grew rigid. Ike gave two quick thrusts, jabbing deep into Stan's chest, his gargantuan balls slapping across his backside like punches.
"Gah… hah… aaaah!!" Even as Ike gave those two thrusts, Stan saw white. His cock exploded into orgasm, firing off three or four shots of come that flew through the air and landed onto Ike's face. The boy stopped everything, scared, as Stan doubled over in ecstasy, his head hovering over Ike's, dripping with sweat almost as if he were in an oven.
"What was that?" Ike gawked, too frightened to keep Stan's milky seed from trickling into his gaping mouth.
"Impossible," Stan murmured in between gasps. "I didn't… I didn't even touch myself but… I came? After four thrusts, I came?"
"C-came?" Ike repeated, confused. "What's that? Did I… did I make you pee?"
Stan felt a shiver cascade through his spine and he vibrated on top of Ike's massive cock. "N-no," he said, steadying his breath, coming down from his climax. "That was an orgasm. That's supposed to happen. It wasn't urine, but semen."
"Oh," Ike sighed in understanding. "Does it… does it feel that good? You looked like you enjoyed it."
"I really fucking enjoyed it," Stan ejected without thinking. Even as the sentence passed through his lips, he realized something was wrong. "Wait," he said, the pieces not adding up. "I thought you said you masturbated before."
"Yeah," Ike answered, blushing even more heavily. "But all I did was stroke myself. I never really got to the point where… that happened. I've tried, but I always get too tired first and fall asleep."
"Are you telling me you've never had an orgasm before?"
"I dunno… I guess?"
Stan reeled back, his mouth agape. After a second, he grinned devilishly and splayed his hands out across Ike's hard nipples, pushing him down. "Sit back," he commanded, bearing his teeth with lust.
The older boy raised his ass up, gliding smoothly but painfully up Ike's amazing shaft. It was so long that he had no idea when to stop, and was practically standing on the bed before he felt the flared mushroom of Ike's head get caught in the tight ring of his entrance. With a grunt, he lowered back down, his insides feeling as if they were being impaled, until he sat once again on the base of Ike's torso.
He heaved his chest up and down, sweat causing his raven bangs to stick to his face. This wasn't going to work – it took too much energy to ride Ike like that. Even though he was already tired, he wanted to make sure Ike enjoyed this. It was the least he could do. Well… alright, so Stan was dying for a good fuck as well, but we can't all be saints, right?
Already, Stan's cock was getting hard again. He bent forward and hovered himself over Ike, watching the young boy as his frightened visage gave way to overwhelming ecstasy. Stan was on his knees now, hunched over and kissing Ike like a starved lover, and yet was still attached to the boy by a good five inches deep. Stan rocked himself back and forth while still remaining locked with Ike's lips (an expert move, he was proud to admit, especially since he'd never done anything like kiss and fuck at the same time – neither Kyle nor Stan were big enough to use this position).
Ike groaned beneath their embrace, his dick throbbing wildly with sensations it had never experienced before. Stan clenched his ass as best he could, but it was difficult with such a huge pole inside him. Regardless, Ike squealed cutely at the squeeze as Stan licked the shell of his ear. His entrance felt like it was about to be ripped in half, but he didn't care. This was the best sex he'd ever had… sorry, Kyle.
Stan arched his back straight again and tried to ride Ike a second time, but now he wasn't going the whole way; he settled for short pumps of his body and relied on squeezing his ass tight to please Ike. The young boy panted hard and reached out, daintily touching Stan's rock hard penis. He moved up and down, playing with the head, and even messaging Stan's balls. It was sloppy work, but the combination of his hand and his huge dick still managed to make the older teen dissolve.
"Y-you don't have to do that," Stan lectured, his cock dripping with pre-come even as Ike pumped it. The little boy bit his lip and pulled away, leaving Stan's flesh unattended and unsatisfied. Stan grabbed him by the wrist and forced Ike's fingers back around him. "I said you didn't have to do it, not to stop!"
Unbelievable. Stan was reaching another climax.
With a vicious moan, Stan lifted himself to his feet, feeling himself grow lust-drunk. He was completely losing his mind in the heat of the moment. This was incredible. This was impossible! This was like nothing he had ever had before! There was a wet pop as Stan reluctantly wrenched himself off of Ike, and he threw himself down onto the bed, ass in the air. He was so empty without Ike's dick inside him – so utterly empty that he couldn't stop his fingers from reaching around and jabbing inside of him. Both of his hands went to work in filling the gap of his overstretched hole, but nothing he did could fill the void like Ike could.
"Fuck me," Stan ordered, barely audible from behind the panting. "Ike, fuck me now!"
The teen glanced at his penis, seeing it shimmer in a mixture of lube, sweat, pre-come, and traces of Stan's blood. He looked astonished and bewildered. "But I –"
"Ike, get over here and fuck me!"
"I don't know what to do though, how can –"
"JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND FUCK ME, IKE!! FUCK ME NOW!!"
The boy jumped up waddled on his knees over to Stan's vacant entrance. Without a second thought, he plunged right in, forcing all of his eleven inches (possibly more, Stan thought) directly into the older teen. Stan gasped at the intrusion and melted into tears of absolute delectation. Ike thrusted hard, stretching Stan further than ever before, the spade of his dick digging into Stan's intestines with an intense fury.
"I don't know if I'm doing this right," Ike conceded, sweating with effort.
Stan didn't reply. Unless you count babbling, groaning, and grunting as a reply.
"Stan, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing!"
"Oh g-god, fuck yeah. Ah… aah!"
"Stan… t-tell me if I'm doing this right, I don't know!"
"Jesus fucking Christ… gaah! Haaah!"
Ike slowed down his thrusts in thought. Stan wasn't telling him what to do anymore. Did that mean… that Stan was no longer in charge? Then who was? Ike? Was Ike really the one calling the shots?
The realization steadily dawning upon him, Ike's eyes widened.
He was in charge.
"Spread your ass," he stuttered, pulling halfway out of Stan. The older boy didn't even hesitate. He reached behind himself and grabbed his cheeks, pulling them wider for Ike. His fingers slipped a moment in the blood from his split hole, but he quickly ignored it and went back to spreading himself. The young teen smiled to himself and started pushing in again, relishing Stan's cries of pain and pleasure.
Ike delved himself all the way in and Stan could feel his massive balls slap up against his backside, searing into his flesh with an impossible heat. Ike pushed further, completely sheathing his cock into Stan's flesh. He grappled Stan's waist and pulled him in closer so that there was barely any space between their bodies. "D-deep," Stan found himself sputtering. "Ike, you're t-too deep… it hurts."
"I'll tell you when it's too deep," Ike moaned, pushing in even further. Stan could feel him in his chest, filling him completely. The younger teen gyrated his hips, and Stan literally screamed at the top of his lungs.
"C-c-coming!" he shouted. "Ike, please, thrust in me, I'm coming!" Ike obliged, startled from his brief dominance and pounded into Stan's ass again. Stan's cock went hard as stone as it climaxed for a second time, streaming semen onto the bed spread. The older boy went limp and sank down, taking Ike with him.
"Never once touched myself," Stan marveled, breathless. "That's never happened to me before, let alone twice in one day…."
"What should we do now?" Ike asked, laying on top of Stan's back, his gigantic dick still embedding itself into Stan's over stretched entrance. The older teen craned his neck to look at Ike – he looked so small and slender on top of him. Who knew this tiny kid could be such a fiend?
"You haven't come yet," Stan pointed out. "So… we keep going until you do." He told Ike to sit up and twisted himself so that he was lying on his side (it took him a while; Ike's throbbing cock was so huge inside him that when he turned his body if felt like his insides were being churned as well). Stan lifted his leg up and rested it on Ike's shoulder, making sure his ass was as wide open as possible. Ike clung to his thigh, confused.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, tightening his arms around Stan's muscled leg, feeling the older teen constrict his entrance lovingly around his still penetrating dick.
"I've already come twice," Stan panted. "Now it's your turn. We do anything you want to, Ike, until you climax. Anything you want."
Ike swallowed and pushed fully into Stan again, moving his hips back and forth. Stan garbled something and practically went limp. "Talk to me," Ike commanded, feeling sweat drip down from his brow. "Tell me what it feels like."
"Feels fu-uuuh-ucking great," Stan yelled, his ass growing red with Ike's powerful thrusts. "I can feel you inside me… in… in my chest – aaaah! You're so hard Ike… s-so… so good! Fuck!"
Something across the room made a noise, and both boys looked up in surprise. Kyle stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth ajar, holding a video camera in his right hand. "Uh," he breathed, his face going beet red. "Don't mind me, I just…" he looked around the room and quickly snatched up Ike's alarm clock from the dresser. "Just had to get my… alarm cock – clock! Alarm cock – I mean clock!" He smiled sheepishly and dashed from the room… came back in and set the camera down… positioned it… left… and came back in a third time to make sure it was still recording before finally closing the door behind him.
"Why did you stop fucking me?" Stan growled, breathless.
"My b-brother… the camera –"
"Who gives a shit, just plow your fucking dick into me right now!"
Ike obliged and Stan writhed beneath him at the extra hard force Ike had put into it. His throat was growing hoarse with screaming. Ike threw his leg aside and grabbed Stan's torso, using his small muscles to try and have the older teen upright. He though that Stan would help him, but he was limp and practically high with elation. Struggling against the slippery sweat of his body, Ike finally managed to get him up.
Stan fell against Ike's shoulder, nearly knocking the boy over. He sat in the younger kid's lap, his ass being utterly destroyed as Ike's rigid cock drilled inside him. Stan dug his fingernails into Ike's back, grunting heavily, moaning, groaning, no longer able to form words. He was so full inside. Ike filled him like nothing before, and he could feel all the contours of his dick, stretching him. He didn't give a fuck that Ike was five years younger than him; you couldn't pay enough for this type of pleasure.
Suddenly, Ike's cock rammed directly into Stan's prostate, and the teen howled, "THERE! RIGHT FUCKING THERE!"
Ike smirked to himself and hit the spot again. And again. Accurate precision that even Kyle paled in comparison to. Every thrust was a direct hit and Stan's ass was literally melting into Ike. The flared head of Ike's god like rod pulsed angrily, sliding against his intestines with bloody intensity.
"I'm going to come," Stan found himself muttering, tightening his grasp around Ike's youthful frame. "I'm going to come again!"
Ike let Stan go, and he fell back down onto his back. "No," Stan pleaded, reading the expression across Ike's face like a book. "Don't, Ike. Don't pull out, I'm begging you! I'm begging –"
All eleven of Ike's monster length was ripped from Stan's entrance, the resulting friction and agony setting him over the edge. His own cock erupted into a third orgasm, semen dribbling pathetically from his tip, his loose ass constricting in spasm around a cock that was no longer there. Stan literally pounded his fists into the bed, crying out into the night, pleading for Ike to enter him again. It wasn't enough. It just wasn't fucking enough!
Ike's dick went painfully hard and he pumped himself ferociously. Stan broke from his selfish ramblings long enough to see Ike's sweaty face scrunching up and his hands working sloppily with his heavy cock. He bolted up and opened his mouth, not even able to take the tip of Ike's head in. He ran his tongue along the pre-come drenched slit, tasting its sweet, milky elixir. He joined Ike in pumping him, their four hands just enough to cover the expanse of his length.
"Fuck," Ike hissed, mindlessly thrusting his hips into Stan's hands. "Squeeze tighter, Stan," he huffed, and the older boy did as he was told, tightening his grip as much as he dared, veins bulging like thunderbolts across Ike's hard flesh. "Fuck!" Ike screamed again, wildly pounding into Stan's hands with such force that Stan was barely able to hold on.
Like an explosion of come, Ike's cock blasted semen in a furious orgasm, splashing across Stan's face and soaking him in a single spurt. Stan fell backwards in surprise, panting and tasting the come in his mouth. Ike was coherent enough in his orgasm to stand up, his balls drawing up towards him and churning out semen at an unnatural rate. Ike aimed his massive cock downward at Stan just as it erupted with another stream of come, drenching Stan's bare and sweaty chest. Ike spurted again, and again, his orgasm lasting nearly a minute, shooting enough semen to make any man blush with inferiority.
By the time he was done, Stan's olive tanned skin was practically white with come, his chest nothing more but a puddle from a thirteen year old's load.
Ike's knees broke out from underneath him and he collapsed onto Stan with a splash of his own semen, heaving in absolute exhaustion. They lay their, panting in unison for what seemed like hours, wet, tired, and completely sated.
"I feel…" Ike whispered, his hair soaking up some of the come that was still drizzling from Stan's face. "I feel like having a cookie."
Stan couldn't help but laugh, even though it made his sides hurt. "When you're my age, that saying will slowly evolve into: "I really fucking need a cigarette." He sighed, and hugged Ike close, ignoring the come sliding between their two bodies. "There's nothing like that first after-sex smoke."
Ike pushed himself up, the two teenagers still connect to each other by remnant strands of white that clung to their flesh. "It's so sticky," he marveled, childishly. He patted his hand on Stan's chest and played with the liquid, rubbing it into him and tasting it. "Hey, I've got another question."
"What's that?" Stan inquired, smiling in their glow.
"Think I can come three times like you?"
"…Let's find out!"
Kyle promised to never release the video he had made (publicly), if Stan and Ike promised that they would never sleep with each other again. That was fine with them, because a) since Ike was not the legal age of sexual consent, their little escapade was illegal to begin with and b) they could always just watch Kyle's video if they wanted.
Besides, Ike was moving on.
The phone rang over the line once and then twice. Ike licked his lips nervously, hearing Stan's words in his head: "Confidence, Ike. Confidence."
Without any warning, Kyle strode into the room wearing nothing but boxers, his erection tenting the underwear comically. He seethed with anger as he searched Ike's room before finally finding the lube Stan had left there four nights earlier. "Thanks a lot, Ike," he was mumbled under his breath. "Fucking huge… god damn you, Ike. I should have just given you the talk myself. But, no! I had to puss out. And this is the thanks I get. As if it wasn't hard enough to please Stan, now I've got to sit through 'But Ike could reach me there!' 'But Ike could hit my sweet spot!' 'But Ike this!' 'But Ike that!' Fuck you, Ike! I'm so fucking pissed."
His brother's rants trailed off as he stormed from the room, and Ike couldn't keep himself from chuckling. He was a little guilty that he might have ruined Stan and Kyle's sexual experience, but he had faith that they would get over it eventually. Plus… it made him feel great that he finally beat his brother at something.
The phone clicked as someone on the other line picked up. Ike snapped to attention at once.
"Hello, Georgie?" he started, his voice cracking a little. "This is Ike Broflovski." He laid his hand down on his crotch, already feeling the blood surge into the base of his penis with anticipation. "I was wondering if you and I could… hang out sometime."
Author's note: I am not a pedophile. Unless you're into that kind of thing. Does it suck that Ike, in my story, loses his virginity before I have? No need to say anything, because the answer is "fuck yes, that's really fucking sad and you need to get laid you loser."