Date: Thu, 1 Jan 2015 15:45:44 -0500
From: Eff Del <nolitimere156@gmail.com>
Subject: Bruce and Niles-April interlude

Adult/youth consensual

April Interlude

By Eff Del



April in Paris...my ass! It was so hot that I wondered why anyone who didn't
need to would venture outdoors.

This was strange weather considering the city is usually magnificent this
time of year. This temperature was more akin to late August when the heat
usually drove the resident Parisians into the countryside in droves leaving
the city to the tourists...who knew no better.

As I mopped the perspiration from my brow, I considered that there might
just be something to this global warming hysteria after all.

Of course the fact that I found myself wandering this rather deserted part
of the city of lights in the middle of the day was my folly and not in any
way the fault of the city.

Someone, Mariela specifically, had mentioned in casual conversation the
existence of the `Chemin de fer de Petite Ceinture'...'the little belt
railway'.

This was a railway line created at the turn of the nineteenth century. Back
then it had actually circled the city of Paris. It had been "THE way to get
around" until the automobile suddenly became the rage and the king of all
of France – the start of le règne de l'automobile and the end of tradition
and romance.

Still, it had persisted bravely until the final coup de grace had been
administered by its newer, slower and far less elegant cousin; the Paris
Underground system. The little line had essentially ceased running in 1939.

The right of way still exists (with most of its track and platforms in
place) as abandoned real-estate and the city has slowly but persistently
grown up around it...seeming to either forget or ignore it; leaving it sealed
and almost shrouded within the constantly expanding borders of the romantic
metropolis that is Paris.

Officially, entrance into this property is forbidden, but countless people
have discovered the almost surreal beauty of these derelict lines. Regular
trespassing occurs and is for the most part ignored.  Mariela had warned me
that with the recent `rediscovery', the greedy eyes of real estate
developers were now cast upon the space and its days were most certainly
numbered. If I wanted to photograph it, (she'd proclaimed with a saucy,
Gallic wave of her hand) I'd best consider doing it now.



So it was, that I was walking along these beautiful, deserted and very
overgrown paths with my camera in constant use. It was my third day
exploring and shooting and I sensed sadly that my adventure with this
neglected route was nearing an end.

Today, the ambling was slow and careful because the steel rails and most of
the ties (though still in place), were significantly overgrown.

I had to be cautious lest a misstep cause a fall with possible serious
consequences.

Although for most of its distance, the city almost crowded against these
abandoned roads, at this particular point, the line was sunken between two
steep reinforced banks. At the top of these, the life and activity of Paris
teemed but here on the tracks below, human contact was surprisingly
infrequent.

A derelict and almost forlorn tunnel was ahead some half of a mile. I
looked forward to the coolness of its interior and to photographing it...
recording the effects of time, neglect and yes, even accumulated graffiti.
My mind was not fully occupied with these possibilities at this particular
moment, however because, it was seriously distracted by the luscious ass of
the boy walking ahead of me.

His shorts were a khaki twill material that hugged his young, muscular rump
so perfectly as to almost be a second skin.  The round melon like orbs of
youthful flesh rolled and flexed rhythmically with each energetic stride
and I walked purposely behind him in total lust.

We had yet to exchange a single word between us and he had not actually
acknowledged my presence behind him, though he most certainly knew I was
there.

I wanted to at least strike up a conversation before we reached the tunnel
and so I doubled my stride and contrived a `misstep' which caused me to
`accidentally' bump into him.

"Bonjour, jeune homme." I smiled apologetically as he turned around
abruptly reacting to our contact.

He glanced at me, giving me a quick toe to head appraisal with a look of
arrogance that only a beautiful young boy can pull off and still remain
attractive.

He replied, "Bonjour à vous vieux pervers." He placed his hands on his hips
and with a half-smile half sneer he arched a perfect brown eyebrow and
added;

"Avez-vous apprécié la vue à ce jour?"

 "Excusez-moi.  Mon français EST très pauvre" and I contrived to look
harmless and interesting at the same time.

"I said, `hello to you, you old pervert. Have you enjoyed the view so
far?'" He'd planted both feet on the tie right in front of me and obviously
intended to block my way until we'd had some sort of conversation.

"Oh, yes, I've enjoyed the view immensely and I hope that I've taken a
number of good photos. It's amazing that this beautiful old rail line still
exists within the very limits of Paris and..."

"I wasn't talking about the scenery you letch! I was talking about my ass...
you've been hanging back there staring at it for at least three miles."

His accent was British; decidedly upper crust. He was no doubt a Public
School boy and I knew he was playing a coy little game with me.

"Well, of course I've enjoyed watching it roll around in your very tight
walking shorts, but... you see, I am an artist and I only photograph what I
can see and appreciate through the camera's lens and so...sadly your (as you
say yourself) `ass' is covered... hidden from my view and therefore my full
appreciation."

"So, then Monsieur, you're saying that if you could get a natural
glimpse...unencumbered if you will...then you might genuinely express your
appreciation?"

"Oh, oui, mon jeune homme! Very much indeed I can assure you."  I had now
discarded my humble and apologetic guise and assumed a much more natural
aggressive personality.

"Perhaps the young man might walk with me into yonder tunnel and since from
all appearances it is private and safe...he might drop those hiking shorts
and of course whatever lies beneath and allow this poor artist a glimpse
of  the true treasure that nature has endowed you with. Such beauty was
certainly created only to be shared, yes?"

He smiled smugly but said nothing as he turned and began walking briskly
towards the tunnel ahead of us.  I followed matching his pace, almost
unhindered by the Tour d'Eiffel that was rising between my legs and
straining against my trousers.

It was a small tunnel perhaps only thirty yards long and therefore the
daylight almost (but not quite) reached the center where we now stood.

He leaned with his shoulders against the rough stone wall.  His eyes were
hooded by his dark long lashes and an almost dreamy half smile curled his
delicious red lips.

Without a word, he flipped open his belt buckle, unsnapped his waist button
and drew down his zipper.  It only took a second for his walking shorts to
drop to his ankles and before I even realized it, he'd dropped his
underpants as well.  I noted almost inconsequentially that these were
classic white briefs that looked so appropriate on a lovely long legged
young boy.

I took in a quick breath and pulled my camera to my eye and began snapping
pictures.  I suggested that he also remove his rust-colored polo shirt.  He
complied quickly and without a word.  Totally absorbed, I snapped off shot
after shot as I moved around him and raised and lowered myself to change
the angle.  I licked my lips almost unconsciously as I muttered
encouragement to him in my pitifully sparse French.

"For Christ sakes Bruce, don't you ever get tired of this shit?"  He was
now moving his back against the rough surface of the tunnel wall obviously
scratching an itch between his shoulder blades.

"I mean most pedos just take their boys to their beds and fuck and suck
their brains out but you...you need to do all these scenarios and
role-playing crap!  Take this one...for chrissakes Bruce, what fuckin
Frenchie school boy is gonna' be walkin' about this bloody abandoned train
line just so some pervert can come up on them and ...oh shit, you know what I
mean"

I put the camera down and nodded contritely.

"I know, Niles, and I'm sure you think that I'm a complete ass but...well, my
sweet baby boy, you and I get to spend so little time together that I love
to add a bit of adventure to our days and it's fun to play-act, no?  Today
however...with this terrible heat and all...well, perhaps I've gone a bit too
far. None the less dear child, since your trousers are off and we are in a
very private and concealed old railway tunnel..."

He grinned because he knew what I was getting at.  I dropped to my knees
and his young boy cock quickly rose to the occasion.  Perhaps it was the
possibility of being caught or maybe just the exotic location...for whatever
reason; he didn't demure as my mouth devoured his precious little spike.
He responded with his eyes closed as his hips thrust aggressively in
synchronized accord with my gluttonous lips and tongue.

The climax was delightful for both of us.  I knew that he secretly enjoyed
the kink and the adventure of our shared games as much as I did.



Later, back in my flat which overlooked absolutely no interesting part of
Paris, I enjoyed the pleasure of his smooth naked body perched on my lap as
together we watched the sun begin to set and the lights of the city come
alive.

Casually we reviewed today's photos and sipped our wine.

My apartment was not located in one of the `chic' parts of the city.  While
I certainly could afford to live almost anywhere, I purposely avoided
fashionable and popular districts.  Despite the fact that I am rather well
known publically, my actual lifestyle is private and not necessarily what
one would deem `respectable'.  Therefore I chose commonplace neighborhoods
in the various cities to establish my little residences.

They were all quite luxurious inside but their location and ordinary
exteriors ensured that whichever I chose as my current domicile, my privacy
was maintained.

"These are quite good you know," he said, offering me his empty glass for
refilling.

"Yes, I particularly like these few with your ass in the diffused light and
that lovely tiny cock of yours just barely visible in the shadows."

"You Perv! I was talking about the photos of the railway...most of them are
really lovely."

"They are," I agreed.  "Several of them will be perfect for my summer
exhibition in New York, and I can sell a number of them to the usual
magazines.  All and all, today's little outing should turn out to be
financially rewarding.  Couple that with the wonderful scenery, the
exercise and the relatively fresh air..."

"Not to mention you getting to grope my naked ass and sucking my cock in a
train tunnel," he added cheekily.

"Yes, yes...taking ALL of that into consideration Niles, it was a truly
wonderful day."

I closed the laptop and handed him a renewed glass of ruby red Medoc.

While many would consider me a cad, a scoundrel or even a monster for
offering alcohol so freely to a twelve year old child, my own feeling was
that after having reamed his plump ripe ass and filled his mouth with my
cock on so many occasions, allowing him a few glasses of exquisite Bordeaux
was an almost benign gesture.

He accepted the wine and rose from my lap.  Cat-like, he stretched before
moving to the far end of the couch.  Drawing his fine smooth legs up
against his chest he rested his chin on his knees.  After a long sip he
smiled appreciatively and stared at me with those enchanting grey eyes.

I'd gone through the mail shortly after our return to the flat and I waved
a letter in his direction.

"I've got a note here from Mariela.  Unless you're bored with my company,
it's good news for us. It would seem that your Mother and `Uncle Freddie'
have decided to embark upon a prolonged cruise of the Mediterranean and
thus she's authorized Mariela to extend your holiday in France for three
additional weeks.

Based upon this news, Mariela informs me that she and Lucien would love to
take a little trip to the Costa del Sol...IF I didn't mind keeping an eye on
you while they are away."

His expression hardly changed.

"Mariela has got to be the worst fucking nanny of all time." He almost
hissed out the words.

"No doubt my sweet Niles but consider that as long as she is happy, her
total lack of a sense of responsibility allows us to be together.  Were she
not so incompetent, I might never again have the opportunity to fuck your
sweet ass or suck your wonderful little dick while you squeal and wiggle
like a bush baby...all without your Mother knowing a thing."

He smiled broadly and took another sip from his glass.

"I suspect that all Mums is currently interested in is fucking `Uncle
Freddie' AND of course spending his money.  I'm not certain what we'd have
done all these years without all of those generous `uncles'."

I smiled back at him. He was certainly world wise for so young a boy but I
suspected he was not very emotionally damaged by the life he'd led so far.
He had learned to play the hand that was dealt to him and he never
complained.  I was very fond of him and didn't look forward to that day
when he grew up and beyond my perverse stage of sexual preference.  Niles
was a special boy and I hated the idea of eventually having to let him go.

"I received another interesting letter in the post."  I sipped from my own
glass as I glanced over to ensure I still had his attention.  "An
acquaintance of mine; Mister Maximillian Galliard, has invited me to his
chateau on the Camargue for the weekend hoping that I'll photograph his
annual `réalité échecs'. Want to come?"

Niles' eye brow arched quizzically and his nose crinkled cutely in genuine
puzzlement.  I was pleased because there were very few occasions when he
could be caught completely clueless.

"Photograph his WHAT?"

"His réalité échecs.  His yearly game of `REAL Chess'. It's played on a
large manicured lawn at his estate several miles north or Arles...very, very
private and secluded don't you know...any how all of the pieces are real
live people and they move according to the directions issued by the
individual players.  Supposedly, VERY interesting things happen before,
during and after the actual game.  Are you interested or should I inform
Mariela that you'll be accompanying her and Lucien to the Costa?"

He extended his beautiful youthful legs down the length of the couch and
glared at me...the perfect image of a petulant little boy.

"You stupid twit!  Of course I want to come with you.  Sometimes you are
the perfect fool Bruce." He tempered this caustic outbreak by waggling his
eyebrows and smiling quite sweetly at me.  I was of course forced to place
my wine glass on the table and, lifting him in my arms, sweep him into the
bedroom where I...well, he WAS already naked and I...Oh, never mind I'm quite
certain you get the idea.



The `Chateau Chevaux de Course' was a grand old place dating back to the
late eighteenth century.    Wonderfully restored and meticulously
maintained it was off the beaten tourist path.  After all, most visitors to
France essentially spend a night or two in Paris, have a meal in a
mediocre, overpriced restaurant and drink a bottle or so of adequate wine
before they leave the country altogether.  Having done so, they happily
return home and spend the remainder of their lives commenting `expertly'
about France... pontificating upon the virtues (or the lack of same) of the
entire nation.

Being close enough to the Mediterranean, even during this unnatural heat
wave, the climate was more properly defined as `sultry' as opposed to
`fucking hot' as Paris had been these past few weeks.  Even my jaded young
Niles was impressed with the chateau as well as the surrounding country
side.  Truth be told, anyone who failed to be impressed by the magnificent
Camargue was either a moron or a corpse.

We'd arrived on Friday having driven down from Paris.  The ride hadn't
taken as long as I'd anticipated as we'd only stopped for two quick meals,
three piss breaks and four times when Niles absolutely HAD to have his
little cock sucked...all the normal de regueur of a road trip.

Max himself took us on a walking tour of the estate explaining as we
strolled that the four finalists were currently up in the large library
engaged in the matches that would determine the two players who would
direct the movements of the living pieces in tomorrow's game.  I saw a look
of surprise cross Niles' brow and anticipating his question I said;

"Those games going on right now are being played in the normal manner using
conventional chessboards and pieces."  Max's nod confirmed my statement and
Niles smiled; his question having been answered before even being asked.

As we walked through the formal garden on our way to view the lawn that was
to serve as the chess board tomorrow, we were occasionally greeted by other
guests who without exception hailed Max as; `Monsieur Le Compte'.  Later,
when he could do so privately, Niles asked me about this and I explained
that Max styled himself as the `Count of Chevaux de Course' although in
reality, he was no more born of nobility than I was. Great wealth does have
its privileges.

We stood on one of the marble galleries and viewed the playing field (as
Max called it).  He explained that each person representing a chess piece
would wear a radio receiver through which he or she would be given
instructions as they were `moved' by the respective player from his vantage
point on the balcony overlooking the lawn.  At this point Max paused and
stared pointedly at Niles.

"You know young man; there is a vacancy within the white team that you
could fill quite adequately if you are willing."  Niles arched an eyebrow
and Max continued, "One of the boys scheduled to portray a pawn has
recently broken his arm climbing a tree...or perhaps I SHOULD say; falling
from the tree he was attempting to climb.  While I could still put him out
on the board, the cast he's wearing would really mar the pristine beauty of
the entire tableaux. Do you suppose you'd be interested in taking his
place?"

Niles was nothing if not a natural born ham.  This of course was one of the
reasons our fantasy role-playing games worked so well.  He didn't require a
moment to think it over.  He bowed low and dramatically to Max and with an
endearing smile proclaimed, "Oui Monsier le Compte! I will happily be of
service!"

"Wonderful!" Max exclaimed and gestured to a young man wearing the livery
of the Chateau.

"Emile, young Master Niles here has graciously agreed to stand in for
Hugo...our damaged white pawn.  Please take him down to the team area so that
he may receive the proper coaching."  Turning to Niles he said, "We shall
see you at the banquet tonight and you will never know how grateful all of
the spectators shall be for your help in maintaining the beautiful
pageantry of tomorrow's event."

I didn't see Niles again until that evening.  I was mingling among the
throng of guests waiting the call to table for the meal.  I noticed him as
he entered the great room.  He seemed to be scanning the crowd frantically
until he finally spotted me and made a bee line in my direction.  I smiled
as he approached but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me over to the
side with a look of distress that was quite uncharacteristic.

"Well Niles, how did your rehearsal or whatever you did today go?"

"Bruce...do you know they expect me to be naked?  Hell, almost all of us
`chess pieces' are going to be out there naked or damned close to it!"

"Well certainly Niles.  How else would you expect a game of `réalité
échecs' to be played?  It's often also called; `échecs naturel' or ..."

"Natural Chess, I get it. Bruce... all I'm going to be wearing is a dumb
little white cap.  How many people are going to be watching this thing?"

"Oh, several hundred I would imagine.  It's become more and more popular
every year...a most sought after invitation I assure you.  Anyhow Niles, what
are you so agitated about?  You LOVE parading around starkers."

"Sure, in front of you and a few other friends, but not in front of a
crowd...not in front of the whole damned world!"

I smiled and patted him on the head. "You'll be fine Niles. Once you get in
front of an audience, you'll forget you're naked and you'll be great.  Wait
right here and I'll fetch you a glass of this exquisite Saint-Émilion.
You'll just about have time to enjoy it before we're summoned in to dine.

*****

The game board was a spectacular sight the next afternoon. A crowd of eight
hundred and sixty-eight guests crowded the galleries and filled the folding
chairs surrounding the playing area. Accompanied by blaring trumpets,
tinkling and clashing cymbals and pounding drums, the two teams came
marching in from opposite sides of the field.  The sixteen pawns were all
lovely boys around Niles' age; from eleven to thirteen years old.  The
eight pawns of the white team sported white beanie like caps and the
opposing boys wore identical caps that were black.  They were all about the
same height and build; not a fatty or a scarecrow among them.  Their lovely
young bodies were completely hairless and they entered the field with their
cocklettes in various stages of erection.  I noticed with a smile that
Niles' dick sprang to full attention the first time the crowd roared their
appreciation of the teams parading in.  I'd known that his shyness would
vanish as soon as he realized he had an appreciative audience even for the
relatively small part he was going to play.

The knights, bishops and rooks were handsome teenaged boys that appeared to
be around fifteen or sixteen.  Their respective caps indicated their
specific roles quite clearly.  Aside from short capes not quite reaching
the small of their backs, they were otherwise as naked as Niles and his
fellow `pawns'.

The `pieces' representing the kings and queens were two young men and two
young ladies of about eighteen years and they were each jaw-droppingly
beautiful.  They had obviously each been chosen not just for their
similarity of stature but for their physical perfection.

Amid loud applause and howls of acclaim, the thirty two `pieces' marched to
their proper place.

After a few words from Max AKA: Monsier le Compte, the match began.  Upon
receiving direction in their personal earpieces, individuals on the game
board that were being moved followed their instructions smoothly and
solemnly.  Niles was actually the second white piece to be moved and
shortly after taking his place in his new square, the black player moved a
pawn directly in front of him which effectively inhibited any further
progress by either of them.

For quite some time, Niles stood in his new position watching the game take
place around him.  After about twenty minutes however, a black knight,
flamboyantly dancing the unusual one-two or two-one movement pattern of
that particular piece, ended his move by stepping into the square that
Niles occupied.  The young man portraying the knight grabbed a very
startled Niles by the balls and with his other hand on a shoulder, thrust
my startled young boy to the ground.  He landed with an audible `huff'.
Niles was now a `taken' piece and he marched sullenly off the field of play
and directly towards the holding bench to join others of his side that had
also been `taken'.

Being the official photographer, I was all over the place furiously
snapping my pictures.  At one point I managed to scoot past Niles sitting
on the bench with the other captured white pieces and I gave him a wink and
a `thumbs up'.  He flashed me a wicked grin and pointed at me and then down
to his very erect little penis.  I got the message quite clearly.

It took just over three and a half hours but finally, the white queen, a
white rook and white bishop moved the black king into check.  After a brief
conference up in the players' balcony, a transmission was sent to the black
king's ear receiver.  With a dramatic flourish, he removed his black crown
and dropped to his knees submissively.  Victory for the white team.  Some
consolation at least for my Niles whose personal game had ended hours
earlier.

*****

The great ball celebrating the event would begin around eight that evening
so Niles and I had a few hours to be together in our room. I'd insisted
that he let me bathe him because he'd sweated quite a bit out in the hot
sun. After slowly and sensuously working the cloth and soap over every
delectable part of his body, I dried him off and carried him to the bed.

"You've gotten a bit of sun Niles. I want to put some cream on you but
first, I want to give you your reward."  He understood at once.  Smiling
happily, he spread his perfect legs wide in order to give me access to his
firm little scrotum and ultimately, his small hard spike.  He was moaning
softly as I worked my way around his delicious little boy parts.  I felt
his orgasm coming just moments after he did and I clamped my lips around
his dick to anchor him in place beneath me.  He soon squirmed, twisted and
flayed his arms and legs about wildly.  My little Niles really enjoyed his
climaxes.  I'd often speculated upon how he was going to react when his
body began producing and shooting cum.  THAT should certainly be something
to experience.  However, by then, he would have sadly outgrown my very
specific range of age attraction.  I hoped that he would find another man
to appreciate and pleasure him just as I hoped I would find another young
boy.

I raised myself up from between his still thrashing legs and planted my
lips firmly against his and restrained him by virtue of a wildly passionate
kiss.  By heaven I loved everything about this boy...more than any other that
I'd ever encountered.  At times like these I sometimes wondered if perhaps
he would be the one that would lift me up and out of my particular age
group fixation.  Might he be the boy that I would actually continue to love
and desire even as he entered puberty...perhaps even beyond that?

When he had finally calmed down, I rolled onto my back and drew him against
me; one arm wrapped around his slender chest and the other arched over his
groin so as to allow my fingers the casual pleasure of dandling his still
moist bits.



"You were perfect out there Niles.  I'm so glad you decided to do it.  Your
white beanie complimented your face and body and I loved the fact that you
had a boner the whole time."

He giggled and I loved when he did that because when he did, he was
galaxies away from the jaded young man he usually tried so hard to be.  For
a few moments at least, he was purely, simply and delightfully a gorgeous
twelve year old boy.

"Bruce, do you know us `chess pieces' are expected to attend the ball in
costume?" he said it so softly that I wondered if it was a question or a
statement.

"Well sport, in your case that won't be much of a costume will it? How do
you feel about attending a big party wearing nothing but a cute white cap?"

"Actually," he'd gotten up and was fishing around near his bedside table
"we get to wear THIS."  He held up what appeared to be a small red towel
with attached strings of the same color.  "This is the winner's apron.  The
other team wears grey ones.  Tied around the waist it covers my cock and
balls but my ass will still be hanging out."  He grinned.

"You were right you know.  I quite liked being naked in front of all those
people and I think I shall enjoy tonight as well...besides, I'm told that all
night, besides grabbing at my ass, people are going to put money in the
pockets of this apron.  That's why `His Countship' never has a problem
finding kids to participate in his chess game."

He'd begun walking about the room as he spoke.  I couldn't keep my eyes off
his luscious ass. I'd known a great many boys in my lecherous lifetime but
I'd never seen so magnificently perfect a set of buttocks as young Niles
Madison possessed.  It was by far the most watchable, bite-worthy,
lick-worthy, fuckable, spankable, glorious ass I'd ever seen. An obscure
word popped into my mind: `callipygous'...there was no other word that
described that ass more perfectly.  I couldn't wait until late tonight when
it would be all mine for the taking.

*****

The grand ball that evening was a resounding success.  By the time that it
ended , thirty of the thirty two Chess Pieces ended up with red welted
asses from all of the pinching they'd had to endure but they also had apron
pockets bulging with cash.  The two young women who had portrayed the White
and Black Queens were attired in rather lovely ball gowns and (I was told)
received private and substantial checks in gratitude for their services.

When Niles and I returned to our room quite late that night...or early that
morning (depending upon your perspective) we counted out the notes in his
apron and it amounted to over seven hundred Euros.  He was laughing as we
counted it and he began to fantasize about what he'd spend the money on.
He was very much the little boy and also just a bit tipsy as he'd consumed
more wine than I would have allowed had I been able to maintain control
over him all evening.

I was preparing for bed thinking to myself that tonight might not turn out
as I'd planned earlier.  My instincts were telling me that a cuddle and a
sleep were the bill of fare after all.  He on the other hand had begun
wandering about the room exploring.  He was, after all, a typically curious
twelve year old, and this was his first opportunity to examine the room
we'd been sharing.

He was currently bent over examining the contents of one of the closets.
Because of the proximity of the opened door, all I could see of him was his
pert luscious ass stuck out as he bent over rummaging among the shelves.

"What's this, Bruce?" he asked as he walked toward me displaying a light
blue tubular device.

I took it from him and after a quick glance I answered,  "Well, I can't
imagine this belongs to Max...probably left behind by a younger guest or
relative.  It's a snorkel Niles.  It's a breathing device that essentially
allows you to swim with your head under water for extended periods of time
so long as this end stays above the surface."

While not exactly drunk, he was certainly a little intoxicated and his
curiosity had been aroused.  He perched himself Indian style on the bed
alongside me and asked, "How does it work?"

Smiling at his adorable naked body swaying slightly on the bed, I
explained; "Well, see...you keep this part in your mouth," I indicated the
mouthpiece, "and you pretty much breathe through your mouth normally.  So
long as THIS end remains above the surface, air flows in and out as you
breathe while you swim.  This part up here with the little ball in it works
like a safety valve. If the tip goes below the water surface, this ball
closes off the tube so that you don't accidentally suck in a lungful of
water.  Some purists though, don't use this valve part, they prefer to
snorkel just using the open tube end...they hold their breath when they dive
deep." With a twist and a tug, I removed the ball valve from the device,
leaving just the open ended tube.

Niles nodded with a very lopsided grin with his eyelids a bit cockeyed.
"Lemme see that now Bruce."  He grabbed the snorkel from me and studied
it.  "This is thinner than your cock, y'know."  He was indicating the end
tube.  Something was going round and round inside that cute little head of
his and finally, he looked up at me in a delighted loopy sort of way.  "You
could blow air up my ass with this Bruce."  He was grinning broadly now.
"You could...see...slide this up my bum and then blow into the mouth
part...le-les try it huh?"

"What?  What do you want to do, Niles?"  I was pretty certain I understood
what he was asking, but I wanted to make certain before committing to such
a bizarre and unanticipated undertaking.  Niles on the other hand had
gotten very excited about this idea.  He bounded from the bed and fetched
the tube of lube from my bedside table.  Holding it out to me he lay on his
back and pulled his knees all the way up to his chest.

"C'mon Bruce...breathe up my butt...PLEASE?"

Since I couldn't think of a single reason not to do this preposterous
thing, I lubed up the end tube and slowly but deliberately inserted it into
his cute little rectum.  He let out a strong hiss of breath upon first
penetration but quickly calmed down and accepted the intrusion if not
pleasurably then at least placidly.

"Thas' it Bruce...thas it...now breathe."

"OK, Niles, but I'm only going to breathe out with this...don't for a minute
think I'm going to inhale your ass air."

He began to giggle at that and I assumed a comfortable position and took
the mouthpiece between my teeth.  I began exhaling; gently at first but his
immediate reaction caused me to resort to short, quick hard breaths.  Very
soon he was squirming on the bed.

"Oh shit Bruce...it's like a summer wind is blowing into my ass!"  This gave
me an idea and I began to slowly withdraw the tube from his rectum while
maintaining an almost constant flow of air...inhaling through my nose and
exhaling into the mouthpiece. Finally the end of the tube had reached the
proper location and just as I'd planned, the air was being expelled
directly onto his little boy prostate.

"Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! Bruce...Bruce...BRUCE what the fuck are you
doing?  That's the most wonderful thing I've ever felt!  Oh fuck...snorkel me
Bruce! SNORKEL me!"

Sadly, that comment set me off on a fit of giggles and I had to let go of
the mouthpiece.  Shortly after that, the normal wave action of his bowels
expelled the tube from his ass and not a moment later, he began to fart.
Niles began laughing hysterically as his body expelled the air I'd blown
into him- fart after fart after fart.

"See Bruce? You're breathing in my ass air after all."

The sound of his flatulence (though not particularly loud) seemed to come
in an almost musical rhythm. In my mind I found myself transposing a
familiar song over the base line of his farts.  In the end, I couldn't help
but sing out, "will you still need me...will you still feed me...when I'm sixty
four?"  It was almost perfect.  I felt a bit chagrined that I hadn't
thought to record the thing and wondered what the Beatles would have
thought of this impromptu version of their song.  It dawned on me then that
I was probably a bit blotto as well as Niles.

Eventually, I lay down next to him and held him in my arms.  He was drunk
and he was tired and he faded quickly. Just before his first soft snore I'd
whispered to him, "I love you Niles."  His only reaction had been a short
final little fart.

I wondered to myself about what I'd whispered.  Would it be true even after
he'd grown hair and could shoot sperm and become...something that he now was
not. Would I still love him even though he would be far too physically
mature for my usual taste in partners?

There was time yet to puzzle over that.  There was breakfast in the
morning, and later, he'd promised to let me photograph him romping naked
along the hills of the Camargue.  Then there was the ride home to the
beckoning arms of Paris.

Thanks to Mariela's lack of ethics and responsibility, he was completely
mine for the next three weeks.

There was indeed time to puzzle over many things and explore the treasure
that was Niles while he still remained twelve years old.


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

I cherish feed back I'd love to hear your feelings...in a large sense they
will determine it there are more Bruce and Niles stories...I kind of liked
them as a wrote this and can see possibilities if there is interest.

PLEASE consider a New Year contribution to NIFTY. We want to keep this free
don't we? As Don Barzinni said; "After all, we are not communists".