Date: Thu, 25 Sep 2014 07:10:08 -0700
From: Koos Smit <kooss@rocketmail.com>
Subject: BEACH FRONT BOY PART 8

Beach Front Boy

Part 8

The boys and I spent a glorious week in the port of Richards Bay.  We
moored at the yacht club and they were kind enough to allow us the use of
their excellent facilities, which included a swimming pool; essential in
the blistering heat and humidity.  I arranged to hire a VW Kombi while we
were there, and, using the yacht club as a home base, we spent time on the
beaches, visited a crocodile ranch, fished in the river, took a hot-air
balloon ride and went for a game drive.

We generally had breakfast on the boat, lunch wherever we happened to be at
the time and dinner at one of the restaurants in the marina.

Every night, of course, was given over to almost frenetic sexual activity
in which there were absolutely no rules, restraints or inhibitions of any
kind and the boys vied to outdo each other in imagination and
inventiveness.  It was for this reason that I chose the relative privacy of
a mooring at the furthest end of the club's considerable grounds.  The club
staff had kindly pressed me to take a mooring closer to the centre of
activity, but I made the excuse that the boys were a boisterous and noisy
bunch and that, as a guest, I did not want to tread on anyone's toes.  Even
so, we were careful to wait until the club closed down for the night before
getting going in earnest.  Fortunately, we were there during the working
week for most Richards Bay townsfolk, so the club always closed early.

One morning I woke up just after sunrise, disentangled myself from Johan
and Josh who were the last to share my bed with me the night before, and
climbed up the companionway ladder to enjoy a cup of coffee in the cockpit.
As I turned to look out over the side I was greeted by the sight of a young
boy of about 10 years old staring at me as he stood on the walkway right
next to the boat.  He was really very grubby and looked as if he hadn't
bathed in a month.  Underneath the grime there was a cheeky confidence that
attracted me to him instantly.

`Hello', I said.

`Hello', he replied, his blue grey eyes watching me steadily through an
untidy fringe of dirty yellow brown hair, streaked with white blonde where
it had been bleached by sun and sea.

I had a momentary pang of unease.  Something about the kid had the look of
trouble: He was cute as hell under the dirt and had a really sexy little
bod to go with it, but ... if the eyes are indeed windows to the soul
... there seemed to be an adult rather than a child looking out of his.
Then suddenly he smiled and I chided myself mentally for having an
overactive imagination.

All he wore was a tatty pair of old rugby shorts, rather too small for him
and faded to a colour that defied description.  His lithe, wiry build and
his deep mahogany tan testified to an active outdoor life in the blistering
Natal Coast sun.  His hard brown feet had clearly never felt the inside of
a pair of shoes.  In his one hand he trailed a short fishing rod.

`Going fishing?', I asked

`Nah', he replied, looking in the direction of the sun behind a shielding
palm, `Sun's wrong ... Packing it in now'.

`Okay', I said, `So ... when were you fishing?'

`I was here last night', he replied.

`Oh ... and where do you throw out your line?', I asked.

He pointed to a spot on the river bank just past the stern of the boat:

`There', he replied.

There was an awkward silence as I tried to gauge how much he might have
seen and heard of our activities on the boat.  He did not look like the
kind of kid who was likely to belong to the yacht club, but I probed
gently:

`So which boat is your dad's', I asked him.

He slitted his eyes at me as if trying to size me up.

`Mister, I don't belong here ... I climb over the fence there to come fish
is all'.

`Okay', I replied.

`If you don't rat me out to the moneybags at the club I won't tell on you
either, Mister', he offered reasonably.

 `What is there to tell?', I asked, blushing as I guessed the answer,
remembering how, more than once, some of us had carried on our activities
in the cockpit or on the foredeck to take advantage of the cooler night air
.

`Looked like you were having a good party last night!', he hinted with a
sly grin.

`Well ... yes we were, actually ... `, I replied, `We were celebrating
something'.

`Must be something really special', said the boy, `Cause you been partying
every night since you got here!'

`Oh ...', I stammered, `So ...'

`Ja ... I fish here every night', grinned the boy.

`Okay, okay', I said, realising the game was up, `So what do you want
... money? How much?'

The boy was still grinning at me, totally unfazed:

`You decide', he said, `I just want some of the action!'

I looked at him in surprise.  I couldn't believe my ears.  Was I really
being squeezed for a trick by a ten year old hustler?  And in sleepy
Richards Bay for crying out aloud!

`And can I have breakfast with you guys', he added, `I didn't eat since
yesterday morning'.

`Er ... sure!', I said, `Come on board'.

I started to put down our short boarding ladder but the boy grabbed hold of
the steel wire shrouds supporting the mast and swung himself aboard with
the agility of a trapeze artist and the confidence of an experienced
sailor.  Then he pushed ahead as if he owned the boat and swung down the
companionway into the saloon.  Bemused, I followed and found him exploring
my cabin where Johan and Josh were still fast asleep.

`This your berth, Mister?', he asked.

I nodded.

He grinned as he pointed at them and said:

`Gee, Mister, you fucked them stukkend (broken) last night!'

I chuckled at his directness, noticing at the same time that he kept
fiddling with the front of his rather tight shorts as he gazed at their
sprawling naked bodies.

`Lekker groot piele! (Nice big cocks!)', he commented, admiringly.

`Okay, now, let's leave them to sleep', I said as I shepherded him out of
the cabin.

`Okay, Mister', he said with obvious reluctance, looking back at the boys
over his shoulder as he went back into the saloon.

`So what's your name?', I asked as I busied myself preparing breakfast.

`Rijn', he replied, `You're Uncle Jonathan, right?'  (Rijn is pronounced
`Rain').

`Right', I chuckled, `You really have been paying attention, haven't you?'

Rijn grinned his reply.

`Can I help?', he asked.

`Sure ... you can set six places at the saloon table ... no, make that
seven ... there should be enough crockery and cutlery in the cupboard over
there'

`What's crockery and cutlery, Uncle?'

I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice as I explained:

 `Dishes, and knives and forks'.

`Oh, of course, I didn't hear you properly', he fibbed as he opened the
cupboard and began counting off the stuff.

I watched him as he uncertainly piled the things up on the saloon table.
Clearly he had no idea how to set a table.

`Let me show you', I said, and I helped him set out the crockery and the
cutlery properly.

`I was going to do that', he fibbed again.

`I know', I said with a wink, and he winked back and grinned as I ruffled
his thatch of hair.

`What's this in your hair?', I asked, `Looks like bits of grass'

`I was sleeping on the lawn under the tree there Uncle!', he replied.

A shadow crossed his face as he realised something:

`Jeez, Uncle, I gotta go fetch my stuff before the club workers come!', and
he scampered up the companionway ladder and off the boat.  Moments later he
returned with his fishing gear, a small knapsack, a bucket with a couple of
nice grunter in it, and a tatty old sleeping bag with a broken zip.

`Okay, you're safe now', I chuckled, `I suggest you have a quick shower
before we wake the boys for breakfast.'

I led Rijn up onto the foredeck and switched on the seawater pump for him.
The boys had screwed off the shower head because they preferred the solid
jet of water from the hose rather than the `moffie sprinkle' spray (as they
called it) of the shower head.  Rijn peeled off his shorts and stood under
the cool water jet, allowing it to splatter against the top of his head,
his shoulders and his back.  I saw that his whole body had the same dark
mahogany tan, which glistened even darker under the streaming water.

I dropped my own shorts and joined Rijn under the water stream to wash his
hair for him, as I often did for Dirk at Rijn's age (and still did
occasionally).  He readily accepted my help with a quick smile over his
shoulder at me.  When I had done, he stood still as if waiting for me to
wash the rest of him.  I was happy to oblige and spent the next ten minutes
soaping and washing every inch of his firm little body.  He showed no
embarrassment at all and was obviously well used to having strangers handle
even the most intimate parts of his body.

As I washed away the dirt I noticed for the first time that he had some
faint marks on his body that looked like knife scars.  There was one on his
left cheek and another just above the line of his eyebrow.  And there was
one a couple of inches long running from side to side over the cute round
bulge of his right chest muscle.  Then there were several thicker stripes,
darker than his tanned skin, running horizontally over his firm round
buttocks.  I was almost certain that they were long-healed whip marks.

When I reached his butt crack he instantly spread his legs wide apart, bent
right over and pulled his butt cheeks apart with his hard brown hands so
that I could get at his pucker.  I touched his butt ring with a finger and
was surprised to see it immediately flex open wide enough to accommodate
two of my fingers.  I examined his butt hole closer and saw that, although
it had both the grip and the elasticity one would expect of a 10 year old,
it bore all the signs of having been extremely hard used.  What a pleasant
little puzzle Rijn was turning out to be!

As I moved on to washing his cock and balls, however, I found his uncut
boyhood standing up straight in a long thin quivering erection fully five
inches long.  Beneath them two smooth, perfectly oval nuts hung low.
Completely unembarrassed, his full lips widened into a grin as I soaped and
stroked his stiffie and his balls.

`Lekker long, huh?', he said proudly.

`Ja, you've got good length there for your age!', I commented.

By now my own cock was sticking out like a yard-arm, joining us in a spider
web strand of precum as the tip bobbed and rubbed against the muscle valley
between his shoulder blades.  Feeling this he pushed back against my cock,
wriggling his shoulder blades and rubbing his back against it sensually.

He looked up at me over his shoulder:

`Feels lekker, huh?', he said.

`It feels damn lekker, Rijn', I said, handing him a towel, `but we better
finish now and go below before someone comes!'

Rijn glanced around, startled.  He had obviously forgotten where he was for
a moment.

`Okay, let's', he agreed as he wrapped the towel around his waist, picked
up his filthy shorts and scampered below.  I followed him without bothering
either to put my shorts on or wrap a towel around my waist.

When I got down into the saloon, Rijn had dropped the towel to the floor
and was waiting, bouncing up and down with nervous energy, holding his
still erected cocklet between the thumb and forefinger of one hand and
looking down at his sun-browned toes while darting occasional glances at me
as if waiting for me to do something.

I looked him over with satisfaction.

`You really clean up pretty well!', I said to him.

He smiled at the compliment with the cocky confidence of a boy who liked
his body and knew its power.  Still fingering his stiffie, he looked
pointedly at my own still hard cock.

`Want to fuck me, Uncle?', he asked suddenly.

`You damn well know I do!', I replied.

`Okay!', he said as he stepped forward and took my swollen cock in his hard
little hand, bending over a bit as he clamped his wide mouth over my cock
head and slurped my shaft slickly all the way into his throat.

Wow! I thought the top of my head would blow off!  Not even Johan, who was
considered the expert cock sucker among the Durban rent boys, had ever
given me such a mind-blowing BJ.  Rijn had obviously done this before.  The
sudden thought of the hundreds of cocks that must have slid in and out of
those cute lips before me nearly propelled me to climax, but I managed to
hold on and, his senses obviously tuned to these things from intensive
practice, Rijn slid my cock out of his mouth, wet and slippery with his
saliva, and bent over the chart table with his legs wide apart, pulling his
butt cheeks apart to present his winking little boy cunt for the taking.

`Wait, let me get some lube!' I said, breathless with excitement.

`No! I made you wet already! Fuck me now!', Rijn ordered.

`I'm pretty big!', I replied, hesitating.

`I can take it, Uncle!', he almost yelled, `Fuck me!  Hard!'

I needed no second invitation and I rammed my huge cock into Rijn's hole.
Rijn yelped with momentary pain but almost immediately started bucking back
and forward on my shaft, grunting and moaning with almost savage animal
lust and pleasure, his lean little back and buttock muscles bunching and
writhing hypnotically under his smooth brown skin.

Within just a few minutes this sexy 10 year old phenomenon drove me to an
incredibly exquisite climax in which my cock gushed load after load of hot
cum deep inside him.

The waves of ecstasy having passed, I started to withdraw from Rijn's arse,
but he reached behind him as if to hold me in and pleaded urgently:

`Keep fucking, Uncle!  Please, I didn't cum yet!'

So I kept thrusting my cock into his arse and his grunts and moans came
faster and faster until his body suddenly went rigid and his butt ring
gripped my cock hard as a dry climax shuddered through his taut little body
for what seemed like a full minute.



Finally Rijn's body relaxed under me and I pulled my still swollen cock out
of his arse.  His sphincter stayed open for a while and I could see that he
was straining slightly as if about to take a dump.  Seconds later my cum
came gushing out of the opening.  Some of it splattered on the varnished
floorboards of the saloon and the rest ran down the insides of his thighs.
He yanked a length of paper towel off the roller and wiped the splotches
off the floor.  He seemed not to notice the stuff on his legs, so I got him
to stand on the companionway ladder and I wiped it off for him with another
piece of paper towel, enjoying the smooth firm feel of his calves and
thighs and the tight round orbs of his buttocks.

`Well', I said to Rijn as I busied myself at the galley stove; cooking
scrambled eggs, frying whole packets of bacon and yards of sausage, `That
was fucking great ... You're definitely hired!'

`Thanks Uncle', Rijn said, `It was lekker for me too!'

I touched the scar on his cheek.

`I noticed you have a few of these scars', I said to him, `How did you get
them?'

`This one on my cheek, and this one over my eye, and this one on my chest',
he said, touching each one in turn, `is all knife cuts!'

He seemed quite proud of them.

`My goodness!  Who cut you?', I asked.

`It's different guys!', said Rijn, `Sailors that get drunk and they wanna
fuck you but they don't wanna pay!'

`Good grief!  Did the police arrest those guys?', I asked.

Rijn hooted with laughter.

`The police? I don't go to the police!  They just chase me away!  And
anyway, by the time they get there the ship has gone!'

`But what did you tell your mom or your dad?', I asked.

`Uncle, I don't got no mom or dad!', he answered.

`What happened to them?'

`I dunno.  All I know is they said my mom was a whore somewhere ... They
say that's why I like to fuck so much'.

`But who looks after you now?  Where is your home?'

`I look after myself. I don't got a home. I sleep where I can ... on the
ships ... on the beach.  Sometimes the cops pick me up and take me to the
street kids shelter.  But I don't like it there and I run away'.

 I asked him the name of the shelter and where it was.  He was suspicious
at the question but I told him I just wanted to check it out.

`But don't tell them where I am!', he directed, `I don't want to hear I
must be "born again" and I must give up "the sins of the flesh", whatever
the fuck that means.'

`I'm sure they mean well, don't they?'

`I dunno, Uncle', he replied, `They always whipping the kids there!'

He stood up and showed me his butt:

`Check these stripes on my arse!  They whip us boys until the blood runs
down our arses.  They reckon the Bible says they must beat the shit out of
us because they love us or some crap like that.  I had enough love from
them!'

`But at least you kids have food and a roof over their heads and you are
safe there, aren't you?'

He laughed ironically.

`Uncle, that priest there fetches us from our beds at night for a fuck
... and then when I just done my best to make him happy, he whips me right
there for seducing him with my "evil body" ... like I started it ... and
then I must thank him for showing me the error of my ways ... and the next
night he does it all over again!  I'd rather be fucked by a sinner!  At
least he knows what he wants and he pays for it!'

I was aghast.  `Gosh, Rijn, I don't know what to say.  I wish I could help
you.'

He pointed to his knapsack, his sleeping bag and his fishing gear.

`I don't need help, Uncle', he said `That's everything I got, and that's
all I need.' he said.

Then he added as an afterthought, with a chuckle:

`That and this fucken sexy body I got!'

I laughed.

`You got that right!', I said

`But what about school?', I added.

`I don't go to school no more, Uncle'.

`Can you read and write?'.

`Sure ... I went to school before!', he smiled, `I'm not dof (stupid)'.

`I know you're not dof!', I smiled back at him.

As if by magic; sleepy, hungry, naked boys started appearing from the
cabins, no doubt attracted by the irresistible aromas wafting off the
galley stove.

They greeted Rijn with only mild surprise.  Ben, of course, was delighted
to see a potential buddy younger than himself.

`Now look here, boys', I announced, `This is Rijn.  He's from Richards Bay
and he will be joining us for a few days.'

`Cool!' said Ben and `Howzit, Rijn!' said the others.

`Howzit!' Rijn replied, and that was all the introduction any of them
needed.

Dirk looked from Rijn to me with slitted eyes, putting two and two
together:

`You're such a dog, Dad!', said Dirk with a grin, punching me on my
shoulder, 'Five of us not enough for you?'

Right after breakfast Ben and Rijn disappeared into one of the forward
cabins.  Soon the sounds of grunting, moaning, slurping and the rhythmic
slapping of sweaty boy flesh coming through the open door announced that
they were sealing their new friendship in the best way possible.

`Okay, boys, what do you want to do today?', I asked.

Johan and the others looked to Dirk to reply, no doubt in deference to the
fact that he was my son.

`Dad, we just want to go for a sail out into the bay today', he replied,
`Just park off ... Catch a tan ... Catch some fish ... Catch a kip'

`Catch a wank ... Catch a suck ... Catch a fuck!', added Johan with a
chuckle.

We all laughed.

`Oh, so you've had enough of being a tourist?', I said.

`Sure, Uncle Jonathan', said Josh, `It's been fun, but we want to be on our
own away from other people for a bit'.

`I understand', I replied, `So here's my idea: I need to attend to
something here in town today, so ... how about you boys take the boat out
on your own and do your own thing today while I do that?'

`Wow, Uncle Jonathan!', said Johan, `You would trust us to do that?'

`Sure, why not?', I replied, `Dirk knows enough to skipper the boat and you
guys are all responsible enough to do what needs to be done.  Of course I
trust you.'

The boys were beyond excited to be allowed to take the boat out
themselves. Dirk was especially delighted to be given the command and
immediately started checking, planning and preparing as if they were about
to set off on an ocean crossing.  They couldn't wait to get rid of me and
get going!  Within half an hour I was standing on the side watching Dirk
expertly manouevre the big yacht out of her mooring.  Rijn clearly knew a
thing or two about boats and was proving to be a quick and agile crewman.
They set off for the harbour mouth under power, Dirk calmly making his
reports to the port authority over the radio in between barking orders that
sent his crew scurrying over the deck to do his bidding.  I felt pride
swelling in my chest as I waved them off.

Then I set off to find the street kids shelter that Rijn had told me about.
There were no kids about when I arrived.  They had all been taken to
school.  I asked about Rijn.

`One of our most difficult cases', the priest in charge told me.  `Such a
sad, lost little boy.  And such great potential, too!  Very bright
actually!  Why do you ask?'

`Oh, I came across him somewhere and I just wondered about his story', I
replied.

`We don't really know', he said, `He's not from here.  He was dropped off
here by a transport driver when he was about seven or eight.  He told us
that the boy's mother was a prostitute and that he was an unwanted
pregnancy.  Quite common among women of that sort ... more surprising that
she did not terminate the pregnancy as so many of them usually do.  No one
has ever claimed him and he doesn't match any of the missing children
reports on the national register.  He's been in and out of the shelter ever
since.  We've never been able to hold onto him long enough to go through
the process of getting him into formal care.'

And of course, getting him into formal care is about the last thing you
want, I thought to myself.  It would put his sexy little arse permanently
out of your reach!

As I left, the priest's parting remark was:

`If you come across him again I would be very grateful if you would bring
him here.  I really miss the little fellow'.

I bet you do, I thought, but said nothing.

My next stop was the small craft marina in the harbour.  At the yacht club
I had heard that there was a sailing vessel there that was on the market.
She had been built of wood in Holland 40 years before, originally for the
fishing trade.  Nearly 90 foot long and 18 foot at the beam, the bow and
stern were both ample and rounded.  She was a roomy and comfortable little
ship, designed for cargo capacity and sturdiness rather than speed.  She
had two masts and her sails were gaff rigged.  She had a well-equipped
wheelhouse on deck with navigation station, radios and equipment sufficient
for an ocean voyage.  She had a powerful diesel engine and fuel tanks that
could get her all the way to Cape Town without refuelling.  Below deck the
cargo hold and cold storage tanks for fish had been removed and replaced
with comfortable permanent accommodation for up to 16 passengers and crew.
There was a separate owner's or skippers double berth cabin aft, accessible
through the wheelhouse.  In the mid-section, around the spacious saloon,
there were four comfortable double cabins that were accessed through the
main companionway.  Forward of the main mast there was another smaller
companionway to the crew quarters, an open space with four double-decker
bunks along the sides that could accommodate 8 crew.  By slinging hammocks
here she could actually accommodate another 4 crew.  Hanging on davits over
her rounded stern was a rubber duck with an outboard motor for use as a
tender when at anchor.

She had apparently been brought to South Africa by someone who had planned
to use her to run charters up and down the coast but had run either out of
money or out of interest, I was not sure which.  She had been on the market
for many months but there was no interest in a boat of that size,
considerable tonnage and age and there had not been one single offer.  I
had heard that the owner was getting desperate and was at the point where
he would probably accept just about any offer to take it off his hands.

I fell in love with Skobbejak the moment I saw her.  `Skobbejak' is
Afrikaans for `rascal'.  And after I had been shown over the little ship I
realised that she was absolutely perfect for an idea that had been slowly
taking shape in my mind for some while now.  What was especially suited to
that idea was the fact that the three accommodation sections could be
separated from each other simply by locking the interleading doors, so that
what the skipper and crew got up to off duty could be kept private from any
passengers that might be on board ... and vice versa, of course!

I decided on impulse to make an offer on Skobbejak, subject to the usual
conditions as to survey, insurance, compliance certificates and so on.  I
pitched my opening offer ridiculously low, as I expected to be negotiated
upward. To my great surprise the broker let me know within an hour that the
owner had accepted my offer.  My first thought after getting over my
elation was that I should have offered less, but I realised that was just
being greedy.

As I sat later in the club bar waiting for the boys to get back I realised
that I had impulsively kick-started my half-formed idea (little more than a
dream up to a few hours ago) into reality with no idea how it would work in
practice.  I had consulted nobody, done no analysis and I had absolutely
nothing but a gut feel to say that it had the remotest chance of
succeeding.  I calmed my rising feelings of panic by downing another scotch
and then wrote down on the back of my bar slip the things I had to do to
realize my dream:

- Sail Skobbejak to Durban or base in Richards Bay?

- Sell Joburg house

- Give up job

- Move to coast & live on Skobbejak

- Johan, Ben, Tiaan live with us?  (Rijn?)

- Funds! :-

Investment and consulting

Charters

Sail Training

School Ship

Research Projects

Other?

- Boys work as crew (have to home school!)

I immediately felt much better.  The major obstacle to most plans is money
and I was pretty well set up with savings and investments.  The proceeds
from selling the house would provide for my wife and daughter (we had
decided that there was no point in waiting for the December holidays to
patch things up and we were already in the process of getting divorced).  I
possessed scarce skills and I could earn money from consulting.  We could
meet running costs by doing passenger charters to Mozambique, Madagascar,
Mauritius and Reunion; doing marine research projects for Sea Fisheries,
the Natal Sharks Board or the universities and taking kids on sail training
adventures.  We could even run a school ship, providing kids with a unique
learning experience as they sailed the seas for a term or longer at
exorbitant private school rates.

But first, I had to sell the idea to Dirk and Josh, who I would make equity
partners in the business when they were old enough (though, of course, I
would retain the majority).  I was pretty sure they would go for it, but if
they did not, I was sunk.  Luckily I had not yet transferred the purchase
price and had hedged the deal with enough preconditions that I could
wriggle out of it on some pretext if need be.  I prayed fervently it would
not be necessary.  But I would have to break the news to them that night,
and they would have to make up their minds before the next morning.

Not long after that Dirk and Johan wandered up to the club house to find
me.  I was thankful to see they had remembered to put on shorts in
deference to the sensibilities of the club members!  As I walked back to
the boat with them they nearly made me giddy with their excited accounts of
the fantastic day that they had had enjoyed out on the bay.

`Please, Dad, we want to do it tomorrow again!', Dirk pleaded.

`Yes, please, Uncle Jonathan!  It was so great fun!', Johan added.

`And what must I do ... hang around here on my own all day?', I asked in
mock indignation.

`You can come too!' said Dirk, `But I have to be the captain!'

I laughed.

`We'll see', I said, `There are some things I need to talk to you about
first'.

Dirk and Johan exchanged glances and then Dirk said:

`Well, Dad, we got some things we need to say to you too!'

`Really?', I replied, `Sounds serious!'

`It's a big thing, Dad!', said Dirk earnestly.

`Yes, Uncle Jonathan, the boys picked us to talk to you about it!'

`Wow!  It is serious!', I replied, `You're leading a mutiny, right?  You
want to take over the ship and head off on the wild blue ocean!  So what
are your demands!'

Dirk rolled his eyes at me.

`C'mon, Dad, stop jerking around and be serious for a bit!'

`Okay, tell me!', I replied.

`Well ... we had a great time all of us together this week, right?'

`Yes?'

`And you like Johan and the boys, right?'

`Very much!'

`Well ... don't you think it would be really cool if we all lived
together?'

My heart skipped a beat.

`Actually, I think it would be very cool!'

Johan and Dirk `high-fived' each other.

`Yes!' they chorused.

`But, whoa, now!', I cautioned, `Just because we want it to happen doesn't
mean it will!  There are lots of other things to be considered, you know!'

`Yes, Dad, but I know if you want a thing you always find a way!'

`Okay, I'm just telling you: Don't count your chickens before they hatch!
Johan and Ben have a mother who has a say in the matter.  So does Tiaan.
And all three of them belong to a pimp who will definitely have something
to say about it.'

`And what about Rijn, Dad?'

`What about him, Dirk?  We only just met him this morning.  We don't know
anything about him.  How do we know if he will fit in?', I replied.

`Ja ... but ..'

`Ja but what?'

`He's cool, Dad, and we like him', said Dirk, `And you like him too!'

`I do like him, Dirk', I replied, `but there's more to it than that, you
know.'

`No Dad, that's all there is to it!  You know it!'

`Tell you what, Dirk, I won't say yes right now, but I won't say no either.
Let me think about it a few days'.

`A few days is all we have!', Dirk replied.

`I wouldn't be so sure about that', I said.

`Okay, and then there's the second thing, Dad ...', said Dirk.

 `There's more?', I replied.

Dirk took a deep breath.

`Yes, Dad ... we want to move to the sea!'

I couldn't believe my ears.  This was really going well for me.

`What about your rugby and your school friends in Johannesburg?', I asked.

`Dad, I got a whole bunch of new friends here now!  Friends that like the
same stuff as me and Josh ... and you too!  And they got rugby here in
Natal too!'

`Okay, boys, now the interesting thing is that that is exactly what I
wanted to talk to you about.  I also want to be close to the sea ... I want
to spend more time sailing and less working ... and I also want the boys to
come and live with us!'

`Well that's fucken fantastic, Dad!' crowed Dirk, `I can't wait to tell the
others!'

`But wait, there's more', I cautioned.

Johan and Dirk looked at me.

`How do you feel about living on a boat?'

`That would be fucken amazing, Uncle Jonathan!', said Johan.

Used to much more space than Johan, Dirk looked a little doubtful.

`Gee, Dad, won't it be a little cramped?  I mean it's great for a holiday
... but all the time?'

`I don't mean like the yacht', I said, `I mean more like a ship ... like
this one', and I pulled out the advertising flyer for Skobbejak, which had
photographs of the ship and of its interior on it.

`Wow! Dad!', said Dirk, `That's fucken awesome! Eighteen berths! Check out
that big engine!  And the wheelhouse!  Are you gonna buy it?'

`Well actually I already did!'

`I wanna tell them myself!' said Dirk as he grabbed the flyer and raced
ahead with Johan hard on his heels.

`Tiaan!  Ben!', I heard him yelling as I walked behind, `Come listen here!'

Tiaan and Ben sat up where they were tanning, naked of course, on the
foredeck.  Rijn, who was below, popped up on deck to see what the commotion
was about.

Dirk and Johan were nearly incoherent with excitement as they both tried to
tell the story at the same time.  I left them to it and eventually it all
came out.  Tiaan and Ben were as thrilled as Dirk and Johan.  Rijn looked
on quietly and then went around fist-bumping the other four in
congratulation.

Then the boys decided it would be a good idea to have a celebratory fuck
and everyone headed below.  I was the last down the companionway ladder and
I found that Dirk, Johan and Ben had gotten together in one of the forward
cabins and Josh and Tiaan in the other.  Rijn was left standing in the
saloon.

`So, I guess it's you and me, Rijn?'

`That's cool, Uncle', he said, and he scampered ahead of me into my cabin.

An hour later I emerged, drenched in sweat, supremely happy and satisfied,
my cock sore but still tingling from the hard rollicking ride that the ten
year old had given me.

I went up on deck for some fresh air and Rijn followed.

`Come sit here and chat with me for a bit', I said.  `I want to know more
about you'.

For the next hour Rijn told me more about himself.  He had no idea where he
had come from.  His earliest memories were of endless travelling in long
haul trucks when he was about 6 years old, bunking with the truckers in
their sleeper cabs and learning everything there was to know about man sex.

He remembered with great clarity the trucker who took his virginity:

`Jeez, Uncle, that first time was so fucken sore.  I screamed and I
screamed but he just laughed.  He klapped me on the head and said `Get used
to it!  You born to be a whore like your mother an' all your little boy
whore brothers!  You gonna get used to it an' you gonna like it!  You my
little boy whore now!'

`Good grief!', was all I could say.

`Well ... I did get used to it though I could hardly walk that week ... and
I got to like it lots!  So he musta been right'.

 But from there on things became hazy in his memory as he was passed,
effectively a sex slave, from trucker to trucker, travelling back and forth
on routes that led all over the country.  During this period, which seemed
to have stretched over about two years, life was an endless monotone of
growling engines, diesel fumes and tyres humming over tarred roads, in
which the interludes of sucking and fucking became a welcome relief that
the bored little boy actually looked forward to.

`Uncle, I still get a hard on if I sit in a truck, or if I hear the diesel
engine or smell the fumes ... like even today when we were motoring out in
the bay I was horny the whole time!  And check now ... my cock is getting
hard just thinking about it.'

I laughed.

`I can see that!  You're going to get me hard too just now!'

One day when he was about 8 years old Rijn fell very ill and the trucker he
was with at the time, worried that he might die but afraid of the questions
that might be asked if he took the boy to the hospital, dropped him off at
the street kids shelter in Richards Bay, making up some story about finding
him under a bridge somewhere.  The shelter took care of him and saw to it
that he received the necessary medical care.

Not long after Rijn recovered he expressed his gratitude to the priest in
charge in the only way he knew how ... by climbing into his bed one night
and giving him an epic blowjob.  The priest not only enjoyed the blowjob
but fucked Rijn's arse that night and discovered what an expert he was at
it.  The next day, overcome with remorse, the priest punished Rijn by
whipping his arse bloody with a heavy leather strap.  Somewhat confused by
the mixed messages, but wanting to please the priest and be a good boy,
Rijn pledged earnestly and tearfully that he would abstain from any further
`sins of the flesh'.

To Rijn's utter surprise, a week later the priest fetched him from his
dormitory bed in the middle of the night, took him to his quarters and
fucked him again, despite his protestations that he wanted to be a good
boy.  Then to Rijn's even greater confusion, the priest accused him
afterward of being a child of the devil for leading the priest into
temptation, and gave him another flogging on the spot.

This happened several times over the next few months, until Rijn took off
after one whipping wearing just the stripes on his beautiful arse.  He
found himself in company with some older rent boys and hookers in the
harbour area.  They took him under their wing and introduced him to the
trade and he had been in prostitution ever since, with occasional short
interludes back at the street kids shelter when some policeman thought it
his duty to poke his nose in Rijn's business.

He told me about some of his escapades with the foreign sailors in the
harbour.

`The Chinese trawlermen are the best, Uncle', he told me, `Sometimes I go
with them on the trawlers for a few months.  I work on the boat in the day
and then at night the crew take turns to fuck me.  When we get back the
captain takes the money off their pay and then I got a big wad of cash'.

`That's amazing!', I said, `What do you do with all the cash?'

`I got a post office savings book, Uncle and what I don't need to live I
put in there'.

`How did you get a post office savings book?', I asked.

`I gave a man at the post office a blowjob to get it for me!' he laughed.

I laughed with him.

`You really are quite an amazing kid!', I said to him.

He smiled.

`Thank you', he said, `Your kids are pretty great too, you know?'

`I do know!'

`Don't suppose you got room for another one?', he asked shyly.

I looked at him for a long while without saying anything.

`Sorry, Uncle, that was rude.  I shouldn't of asked!', he said,
embarrassed.

I made up my mind.

`Actually", I said, "I think I do have room for another boy.  He should be
about ten years old ... blonde ... cute as hell ... has to be able to give
amazing fucks and blowjobs ... and ... he must really, really like sex with
guys.  Do you know anyone like that?

Rijn looked at me uncertainly.

`Um ... I'm ten ... and I love fucking with guys ...'

`Then ... maybe you'll do!  Do you think you might like to join our little
boy circus?'

Rijn jumped up and threw his arms around me.

`Jeez ... thanks Uncle ... Uncle Jonathan ... that would be the best thing
ever!'

`Better than the Chinese trawlers?' I joked

`Way better, Uncle Jonathan!' he replied, clinging to me.

At that point the sounds coming up from below made it obvious that the
boys' fuckfest had moved from the cabins into the saloon.  That and the
feel of Rijn's warm hard little body against mine stirred my cock into life
once more.

`Check ... you're getting hard again, Uncle', he said, feeling my cock with
his hand, 'Do you want a blowjob?'

`That would be great if you're not too tired?', I replied.

`I'm never tired of sex, Uncle Jonathan!', he laughed as he lifted himself
off the seat and knelt between my knees.

************

First thing the next morning I transferred the funds to pay for Skobbejak
and took possession of her.  We decided to move on board immediately.  The
remaining formalities and administrative matters would be taken care of
over the next few days.

I contacted the charter company and arranged that we would hand over the
yacht we had chartered to their agent in Richards Bay rather than sail her
back ourselves.  As they happened to have a charter going the other way it
would not cost me anything extra.

The boys were absolutely delighted with their new home.  We agreed that I
would take the owner's cabin (I let them vote on it, but would have
exercised my majority rights if it had gone any other way!), the four older
boys would take the four passenger cabins in the mid-section and Ben and
Rijn would take bunks in the crew quarters.  The understanding was that
when we carried passengers all six boys would share the crew quarters for
the duration of the charter.

Then I left on the two hour drive to Durban where I intended sort things
out with Henk and the boys' mothers so there would be no hassles about the
boys coming to live with me.  Before I left, I told the boys I might be
away for two days and I put Johan in charge.  Dirk was a little put out
about that as he thought that, as my son, he should be in charge.

`Johan is the oldest among all of you, Dirk', I explained, `and he's used
to taking care of his brother and himself.  And he didn't complain when I
put you in charge on the boat yesterday ... because he knew you were the
best man for the job.  Will you be man enough to realise that Johan is the
best man for this job?'

Dirk thought about that for a moment.

`Okay, Dad, you're right ... I'm sorry'

I ruffled his hair and gave him a kiss.

`No problem, Dirk', I said.

`Can we take Skobbejak into the bay while you're gone, Dad?', Dirk asked.

`No, we don't know how she handles yet and I want to be on board when we
take her out the first time.  Okay?'

`Sure Dad'.

I left them with a long list of things to do on the boat.  I was sure it
would keep them busy until I got back.

`As long as you're up to date with the chores you can drop the rubber duck
in the water and go play with it', I said.

`Cool, thanks Uncle Jonathan', the boys chorused.

`Anything to do with boating ... Dirk is the captain!', I said, winking at
Dirk, `And Rijn is first mate!'.

`Okay, Uncle Jonathan', said the boys, and Rijn swelled with pride at this
acknowledgement of his seagoing experience.

As it turned out, I was away for three days.  The boys' mothers were both
happy to sign away their kids who, to them, were nothing but a burden.  But
to Henk, they were profit-making assets in his business.  For a range of
reasons, not least because I would open myself to prosecution, there was
absolutely no point in threatening him with the law.  It had to be
approached as a business transaction in which I had no leverage other than
money.

I met with him in the flat that he now shared with Johan's mother, who was
out at the time.  There was a mattress leaning up against the wall in the
tiny sitting room that I realised must be Ben's and Johan's bed. When he
opened the door to let me in I found two naked little boys sitting on the
only sofa in the sitting room.  One looked about six and the other about
eight.  They looked so alike they were clearly brothers.  They had the look
of little wrestlers, with bodies that were nicely proportioned and
compactly muscled.  They were tanned all over dark brown and they had black
crew cut hair and blue eyes.  They were fingering each other's little
dicks, which were both standing up stiff and hard.

`This is Jens', said Henk, pointing out the older boy, `and this is Erik.

`Hullo Jens and Erik', I said.

The boys flashed a grin at me and continued masturbating each other,
completely unabashed at the presence of a total stranger.

`They one of my whore's kids', explained Henk, `I'm just teaching them the
trade'.

`Okay you two, go play in the bedroom for bit.  I want to talk to the uncle
about business now.  I'll call you just now, okay?'

The boys jumped up and scuttled out of the room, giggling, obviously eager
to carry on with their sex play.

`Best to train them early', Henk said.

`I suppose so', I replied.

His asking price was R5 000 a head for each of them.  At a time when you
could buy an entry level Merc for R50 000, that was a hefty price to pay.
After a lot of haggling I offered R1 000 a head plus one free overnight
charter of Skobbejak for a party of his clients out on Durban bay.  I
agreed that the three rent boys would be available for that one last
occasion.  Henk said that he would accept if I would throw in Dirk and Josh
as well.  I thought `oh why the hell not, they've already had some practice
at it!', so I agreed and, for good measure, said I would even throw in
another boy I had picked up along the way ... Rijn.

And so the deal was done.  Henk suggested that we could perhaps collaborate
on regular boy sex charters in the future.  I politely said that I would
think about it.

Then he called Jens and Erik back into the sitting room.

`Take Jens with you to your hotel.  He'll give you a great fuck', he said
expansively, `On the house!'.

I had spent three days away from the boys, so I was pretty horny at that
point in time, but I said:

`You know I really need to get back to the boys'.

`Those boys are more than able to look after themselves ... you'll be
driving back in the dark ... and another night away won't make any
difference', he said, persuasively.

`Well ...', I hesitated, `I'm certainly tempted'

`You won't be sorry', said Henk, `He's young but he's coming along good
... he learns quick and he loves to fuck', he explained.

`Well ... in that case ... ', I said.

`Great!', said Henk, `Maybe you like him so much you buy him too!'

`I doubt it, but you never know what might happen', I replied, wryly.

`Okay now, Jens', Henk ordered, `You go with this uncle now and show him
what you can do, okay?'

Jens grinned and gave Henk and held up a grubby brown thumb in a sign of
assent.

`Are you okay with that, Jens?', I asked.

Again he grinned and gave a thumbs-up sign.

`Does he talk?', I asked Henk.

`He talks ... But he's got much better uses for his mouth ... Isn't that
so, Jens?', Henk chuckled.

Again the grin and the thumbs-up.

There was a bit of a delay while Jens looked for his shorts.

Then, as he was about to go out the door, Henk called him back to put his
anal stretcher back in.  We watched him as he inserted the thick clear
Perspex cylinder in his arse with a great deal of huffing, puffing and
grunting.

`Come show the uncle!', Henk said to Jens, and the boy came and bent over
in front of me with his legs wide apart, pulling at his butt cheeks the
better for me to see.

`Look here', Henk said as he aimed a pencil torch at Jens's butt-hole.

The exposed surface of the stretcher was flat and round, like the bottom of
a bottle, and in the light of the pencil torch you could actually see the
purple red interior of his fuck chute, as if looking through a magnifying
lens.  The flesh of his anal ring looked stretched to breaking point, but
Jens seemed to take it in his stride, walking just slightly wide-legged at
first, until his ring became accommodated to the stretcher's girth.

Finally we left and Jens trotted ahead of me on his leathery bare feet as I
walked to where I had parked the hired Kombi.  Like all of Henk's boys, he
was nicely built for his age and I enjoyed watching his muscles bunching
and gliding under the smooth brown skin of his bare back and legs and I
felt my cock swelling under my shorts as I thought of fucking that hard
round arse.

Back in the hotel room Jens dropped his grubby board shorts to the floor
practically as he entered the door ahead of me.  His buttocks were as
tanned as the rest of his body and his little dick was already stiff and
hard.  I kicked off my beach slops and, as I was pulling my shirt over my
head, Jens stood in front of me, hooked his hands in my waistband on either
side of me and slid my shorts down.  They hooked on my erected cock.  Jens
whistled in admiration and reached in to ease my cock out sideways so he
could get my shorts down, sliding them all the way to my ankles.  I stepped
out of them and hopped onto the bed.  Jens bounced up next to me and looked
at me quizzically.

`Well?', I said to Jens, `Show me what you can do!'

Jens shuffled closer on his knees and then lifted his one leg over me to
sit astride my chest.  He pushed himself backward until his perfect arse
came up against my face, the big shiny disk of the hole stretcher staring
at me, unwinking.  Jens looked back at me over his shoulder, grinning
broadly, his big blue eyes sparkling wickedly.  I got my fingers behind the
stretcher's rim and started twisting and tugging at it to ease it out.  It
seemed firmly stuck and I struggled with it.  Then I realised from Jens's
cheeky face that he was gripping it firmly with his sphincter.  I smacked
his butt with my hand and he giggled naughtily as he let go and the
stretcher slid out slowly, slimy with lube jelly and what I presumed must
be Henk's cum.

As Jens turned to take my cock in his mouth, I placed my hands on his butt
cheeks and looked into his hole, still wide open but slowly flexing closed.
Then I lifted my head, shoved my face into his crack and began to lick and
probe his hole with my tongue.  He smelled and tasted of sea, boy sweat,
lube jelly and cum and he squirmed deliciously as I tongued him.

After a while I lay my head back on the pillow and started probing his now
closed hole with my forefinger.  He was firm but elastic and readily
compliant.  Soon I was fucking his anus comfortably with two fingers
inserted.  I made a mental note to find out at what age Henk had started
training the boy.

As Jens's tongue spurred my cock ever closer to climax I pulled my fingers
out of his hole and, placing both hands against his buttocks, gently
propelled him up and forward.  Immediately he got the idea.  He got up onto
his feet, turned around to face me, hovered his butt over my cock and
reached a hand through his legs to guide its tip into his hole as he
carefully sat down on it.  It was tight going in and Jens wriggled and
grunted, twisting his hips from side in a screwing motion as he slowly slid
down my pole until its whole length was inside him and his hard buttocks
were just touching onto my groin.

He waited there, eyes shut, face screwed up and teeth bared in pain for
what seemed a long while.  His taut body glistened with sweat, his muscles
knotted with the strain.  I held up my hands for him to hold onto.  He
grabbed them and held on.  He had a strong grip.  Then he began to slide
his solid young body up and down my pole, his thigh muscles bunching
thickly with each upward thrust, growling softly all the while from either
pain or pleasure, perhaps both, it was hard to tell.  For me, though, it
was all pleasure.  At eight years of age Jens certainly knew how to fuck.
Henk really knew how to train young boys in the art of man sex.

Jens stayed the night, though neither of us did much sleeping.  Henk was
not exaggerating when he said Jens loved to fuck.  He just couldn't get
enough of having my cock ramming his arse.

I dropped Jens off with Henk the next morning.

`Great fuck, huh?' he said.  It was not really a question.

`Yes he certainly is!', I replied, `How long has he been doing it?'

`I started getting him ready when he was six ... like I'm doing with his
brother now'.

`Wow!', I replied.

`You want to maybe buy Jens too?'

`Very tempting!', I replied, `But I think I have my hands full with six
boys right now ... Maybe I'll look at it later when things have got more
settled.'

`You know', said Henk, `Six boys and you is an uneven number ... means
there's always someone without a fuckmate!  It's not natural!'

`Yes, I know', I replied, chuckling inwardly at Henk's notions of what
might be natural, `I'll think about it'.

After checking out of my hotel I arranged a mooring in the Marina for
Skobbejak and attended to a few other things before driving back to
Richards Bay.

The moment I arrived I gathered the boys together on Skobbejak's deck and
announced that I had bought Johan's, Ben's and Tiaan's freedom from Henk
and that, if they and Rijn still wanted to, they would be welcome to join
Dirk, Josh, and me and become part of our family on Skobbejak.

The boys were completely overwhelmed and eyes filled with tears despite
manful attempts not to show it.  I have to say that I was pretty moved
myself and had to quickly go busy myself in my cabin until I recovered my
composure and allowed the boys to recover theirs.  None of us wanted to
appear unmanly, of course.

A while later Dirk came to fetch me.

`Dad', he said, `The boys want you.'

I followed Dirk through to the crew quarters, where the other five boys
were waiting, all of them minus their shorts and standing around a big bed
that they had made on the floor from the mattresses they had pulled off the
bunks.

 `Uncle Jonathan', said Johan, `You gonna have the best fuck fest you ever
had `cause we want to thank you for what you done for us', he said.

`This party aren't gonna be over till you fucked all our arses!', added
Tiaan.