Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2008 17:00:41 -0800
From: Zack McNaught <zackmcnaught@hotmail.com>
Subject: Adam

Disclaimer: all the usual stuff applies about fiction, lack of animal
fatalities, the carrying out of stunts by trained professionals. If you're
not meant to be here, reading this, then either leave, or be careful!

E-mail: zackmcnaught@hotmail.com :: web: www.asstr.org/~zack/



There are two things you need to know about Adam. The first is that he
comes across as a bit of a cocky little git at times. He's really not that
bad, but he's a growing boy, full of confidence, and there's a fine line
between confidence and arrogance. He never really gets himself in trouble,
but he continually pushes at the limits of your patience. The other thing
you need to know is that Adam is, quite simply, an absolutely stunning
twelve year old. I'm not just saying that because I'm besotted with him,
either. He's beautiful by any standards. I suppose the nearest
approximation to his beauty would be Niklas from the Niklas and Friends
comics, although Adam's hair was even fairer, his nose a more perfect
button and his freckles more perfectly spaced. Good looking, then, and he
knew it.

Adam is my nephew. I live quite near my sister and her husband, and Adam,
an only child, would often come around to my house while his parents went
out. As a 'confirmed batchelor', that suited me, as I needed the company as
much as Adam did. We always got on well, I was his favourite uncle, and
there was no reason to suspect that things would change between us. But
this story wouldn't have been written if that all there was to it, so I'm
sure it will come as no surprise to discover that one night things between
us took a turn I would never have expected.

I'm gay. More accurately, I'm a gay pedophile, a boylover. Adam didn't know
this, and nor, I would imagine, does my sister. At least, if she does know,
she's remarkably relaxed about me spending a lot of time alone with her
son. Either way, I was lucky enough to spend almost every Saturday night
with a boy I really fancied the pants off. It was hard to keep my mind on
being an uncle when he was around. He would sit on the other end of the
sofa from me as we played on the Playstation or watched TV, in his lazing
around uniform of t-shirt, tracksuit trousers and white sports socks. His
legs would be crossed in front of him, tucked up beneath him, or on
occasion laid across my lap, only centimetres from my embarrasingly hard
penis. It was hard most of the time Adam was around, and once he was in
bed, I would treat myself to messy, mindblowing orgasms as I dreamt of what
we might get up to .

The first evening anything happened between us, we'd just finished a
marathon session of Burnout. We were both red in the face from laughing at
the crashes we'd caused, both hyped up like kids. In his case, at least,
that was acceptable. We'd both spent an afternoon downing as much Coke as
we could manage, too, so the sugar and caffeine were adding up to a pretty
hyper young lad. We flicked on the TV, and one of those BBC search for a
West End star type things was on, I don't remember which. It was hosted by
Graham Norton, and as soon as Adam saw who it was, I could see
mischeivousness bubbling up in his eyes. The inevitable question (there was
always a question with that look) followed a couple of seconds later.

'He's a fag, isn't he?'

I was a little taken aback at the bluntness of the question, even coming
from Adam, but I'd always tried to be honest with him when practical, and
this was one of those times. I answered with as matter-of-fact a tone as I
could manage.

'He's gay, yeah.'

'Don't you think that's gross?'

I shrugged.

'Not really. Live and let live.'

I was trying to hide my frantically beating heart. I'd been careful to hide
my sexuality from my family, but Adam was asking questions which were a
little too close to home. I should have been annoyed at his tone. Instead,
I was scared of making a false move. Without realising it, by failing to
condemn the man on the TV, I already had.

'You don't think it's wrong?' he asked. The incredulity in his voice was
like a knife through my heart, though in hindsight I know a lot of it was
Adam winding me up, trying to provoke a reaction. At the time, though, I
snapped and foolishly stuck with the honesty policy.

'No, I don't think it's wrong. People are different, Adam, you just have to
accept it.'

Young boys can jump to quite amazingly contrived conclusions from a glimmer
of evidence. Unluckily for me, Adam was quite accurate with his next guess.

'Oh my God, you're gay, aren't you?'

It was to late to go back on what I'd said, but, desperately scrabbling
around for a way out of the conversation, I played the authority card.

'That's blasphemy. You know your mother will be angry when I tell her you
used the Lord's name in vain.'

My sister was the only one of us three kids who carried on going to church
when she didn't have to, and really would have been disappointed with
Adam. He wasn't going to be thrown off the scent by such amateurish tricks,
though.

'She'll be even more angry when she finds out you're gay!'

He was quite right, too, damn it. I couldn't think of anything to say. I
looked across at Adam, and he had a mocking look on his face. I was
heartbroken. All his life he'd looked up to his uncle, and now had come the
moment, at only twelve years of age, that he was in the ascendency, that he
felt he was in charge of our relationship. I sat there in silence while my
world crumbled.

Adam wanted to get himself out of the conversation, too, presumably because
he felt uncomfortable being around me now my big secret was out. He flicked
the TV back on to the Playstation channel and launched into a very
one-player game of Burnout. I sat very much alone on a couch occupied by
two people.

Adam continued to play for about fifteen minutes while I watched on, going
over things in my mind, agonising about what had been said. I fell deeper
and deeper into despair as I had visions of losing Adam for ever. He hadn't
yet run from the room, but perhaps because it hadn't occurred to him to
simply leave. I surreptitiously watched him play, watched him angry at the
world, at me.

A change came over him, though, as I watched. It was so subtle as to be
barely noticeable, even though I was watching his every move. His anger
faded, and the glint of mischeif returned to his eye. It was only a matter
of time before he asked a question, I knew, and I was more than ready to be
on the defensive from the off. Adam, as I've already indicated, though, was
as ready as ever to bowl me a googly.

'Do you suck people's dicks then?'

I could see there was still a little malice behind the question. I thought
it was perfectly reasonable to be unwilling to answer that sort of
question, although perhaps my response could have been more mature.

'Dunno, do you?'

'No, of course not! You're the gay, not me. So, do you?'

I shrugged, a fatal move. The fact that I was flustered is my only defense.

'I bet you do, don't you?' he asked. Of course I do, I thought to myself,
but admit that to a twelve year old boy? Unlikely. What Adam did next took
his mischieviousness to a whole new level, which at first shocked and then
delighted me.

Without any apparent hesitation, Adam got up on his knees on the sofa next
to me, and pulled down the front of his tracksuit and his boxers, at the
same time lifting his t-shirt with the other hand. I was presented with a
perfect view of his hairless crotch, but I didn't really have time to take
it in.

'Go on, then,' he said, 'suck mine!'

There was laughter in his voice, and cheekiness in his smile. What I should
have done was shrug the joke off and look away. That would have been the
sensible, adult choice. But every so often, you reach a fork in the road, a
point at which you make a decision which affects the rest of your life.

My decision, as unwise as it was, was to turn the joke back on Adam. I
reached out and held the front of his pants and trousers down while pushing
him onto his back with the other hand. Without pause, I dived down to his
crotch, sucking his flaccid little penis into the warmth of my mouth.

Adam was stunned into silence for only a moment, before he came to his
senses.

'Fucking hell, I was only kidding! Stop it! Get off, faggot!'

His hands were on my head now, pushing me away. I could have stopped there,
but I sensed something. I realised that Adam's hands, although they were
pushing on my head, weren't applied with much force. He was saying that he
wanted me to stop, but not acting it. It would have been easy for him to
kick out at me with his unrestrained legs and get away, but he never tried.

After a minute or so, as his dick reached its full hardness, Adam's hands
fell to his sides, and he surrendered to my mouth.

At this point, stories often eulogise about the glorious endowment of the
boy in question. But this is real life, and the reality is that Adam's dick
wasn't spectacular. It was small when soft, a couple of inches long with a
fairly nice overhang of foreskin. Fully erect it was definitely over three
inches, but nowhere near four. The foreskin still hung over the end, but by
a shorter length and much tighter. His head was slighly more bulbous than
the alabaster shaft, along which ran a couple of tiny blue veins. It was
probably the same thickness as my middle finger when it was as hard as it
was going to get. His crotch remained blessedly free from hairs, as smooth
as a baby's, and a slightly grown but still tight and wrinkled sack held
two grape-sized nuggets below.

Of course, I wasn't about to complain, because his willy, as ordinary as it
was, was very hard and sliding in and out of my mouth with the sort of
rhythm that has 'orgasm' written all over it. Only a couple of minutes
after we'd started, Adam was panting. I looked up to see his face flushed,
head thrown back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. He was enjoying
it. A lot.

Young boys come in two categories (if you'll excuse the pun): either
they'll reach their climax in a few minutes, or they'll take a lot of
stimulation to get there. Adam was definitely in the former camp. I could
sense the orgasm approaching. His legs started to stretch beneath me,
writhing under the weight of my body. His breathing became ragged, and the
blush in his cheeks spread to his chest. The tension built and built in
him, until, with a short, sharp gasp, he came.

Adam's orgasms were over quickly. His dick jumped once, twice, three times,
ejecting a droplet of salty semen in my mouth each time. It was a long way
from being a flood, but certainly enough to enjoy.

When he ordered me off this time, it was clear that he wasn't kidding. I
deperately wanted to continue to suckle his penis, but post-orgasmic guilt
was racking his body, and as soon as I had released him he pulled away to
the corner of the couch and picked up the controller, restarting his paused
game. It was a natural reaction for a young boy who's not sure what has
just happened is quite right, but nevertheless it was disconcerting and
more than a little worrying.

It was five minutes later that I knew everything would be alright. A slight
smile curved the corners of Adam's mouth, and he spoke.

'Pervert!'

It was only one word, but the way he said it settled everything. He wasn't
angry, wasn't upset. Far from comfortable, perhaps, but I wasn't going to
get a knock on the door the next morning from a man in uniform.

I would love to report that the events of that evening opened floodgates,
and that before the week was out Adam and I were enjoying all sorts of
carnal pleasures. But real boys don't work that way, and for three weeks,
despite my best efforts, I failed to get close to Adam again. I consoled
myself with the fact that things seemed to be alright between us. Adam
behaved normally, but gave no indication about how he felt about what had
happened.

The next time it happened, it was at Adam's instigation once more. He was
around at mine for the usual Saturday night games and TV marathon, and was
in an especially cheeky mood. He kept taunting me, calling my ruder and
ruder names, until he went a bit too far.

'Cocksucker!'

I couldn't let that one go.

'Yeah, right, you wish!'

I couldn't have dared hope that Adam was trying to tempt me into sucking
his dick again, but that's exactly what was happening. With the
mischievousness suddenly replaced with a very serious look, one might say a
look of lust, he said.

'Go on, then,' pushing his trousers and boxers to mid thigh and leaning
back. He was already hard.

There were no protests this time as I slipped him into my mouth. He must
have been thoroughly worked up already, too, because he was even quicker to
orgasm this time, and pumped a load twice as large into my mouth. I
savoured the taste as I pulled off, and before I knew it Adam was back into
his computer game, the only evidence of his pleasure the pink tinge in his
cheeks.

The pattern repeated itself off and on for a few months, during which time
Adam became more and more brazen. On a couple of occasions, he simply
paused the game, pulled down his pants, and continued playing as I sucked
him off.

My favourite time with Adam, before he apparently became bored of the game,
or too guilty to continue, was near the end of our sexual adventure. I'd
just sucked him off for the second time that night, and was sitting back,
expecting him to continue on the Playstation. Instead, he very carefully
and deliberately moved over to me and leaned into my side. My dick was a
prominent bulge in my trousers, and, without a word, without so much as
looking me in the eye, Adam slipped his hand beneath the waistband of both
trousers and pants, grasping my dick with a sure grip which indicated
plenty of wanking expertise, probably only on himself. I was in such a
state of sexual excitement that, although I tried desperately to prolong
the joy, I came all over the inside of my pants in less than a minute. Adam
withdrew a hand covered in semen, and with a bit of an unpleasant look on
his face retrieved a tissue and wiped it clean. The smile he gave me when
he sat down, though, was worth all the orgasms in the world. He had clearly
wanked me out of a selfless desire to please, and that meant more than
anything else.

Adam tired of our games soon after. I think he found a girlfriend to mess
around with, as he chattered constantly about some vacant girl from his
class whose key attributes seemed to be blond hair and a willingness to
play around. When you get the chance, cherish every moment with a boy,
because it won't last for long. I had his dick in my mouth a sum total of
eleven times, and I can clearly recall each one. I'll never forget those
Saturday evenings with Adam.


zackmcnaught@hotmail.com :: www.asstr.org/~zack/