Date: Wed, 01 Mar 2017 14:34:13 -0500
From: The Paternal Watcher <mfvb@protonmail.com>
Subject: Eclipse

The lunar eclipse was due to start after 10PM, and I arrived around
9:30. Dan was messing the a fire with a couple of his boys, both the girls
were laying out on blankets, and his wife was doing some last-minute work
on her computer inside.


"We've got smores fixings if you want," Dan said, "but we're going to try
not to look at the fire for too long or we might miss the details of the
eclipse, right, kids?" The four outside -- one more was in the bathroom --
murmured an automatic agreement.


Drew came up to hug me, wearing a form-fitting pair of long underpants and
nothing else that I could see. "Sit with me on the bench," he said, leading
me over to where the 2-person wooden yard furniture was set up for best
effect. He'd arranged a large, soft blanket to wrap around us, guarding
against the chill of the June night.


Laughing, I said, "If you're cold, you could always put on a shirt."


He cocked his head in confusion. "But then the blanket might be too warm."
I exchanged a glance with Dan, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head,
as if to say I made him, but I cannot explain him.


Sitting down, I realized there was a thick quilt beneath us, no doubt to
keep the chill off Drew's bony butt. He pulled it up around our shoulders,
wrapped the blanket atop us, and leaned into me to see the sky. "Dad," he
asked, "what did you say about smores?"


"I said you could make your own, but I happen to have an extra marshmallow
on this stick, meaning you won't have to catch hypothermia," Dan replied.
"Try thinking ahead next time?"


"I did think ahead," the boy responded. "We have enough blankets here, and
I saw you had an extra on the stick." We all laughed. Clearly he scored
points for his logic, because we each got one in hand shortly.


Up in the sky, the moon had a bite missing. Everyone else got themselves
settled on and under blankets on the ground, making it easier to look up;
Drew and I had to crane our necks a bit. A smart boy, he wriggled about
until he was laying with his legs stretched out and his head on my chest.
"Guess I'm the only one whose neck will be sore," I joked, but only Drew
heard me; at least he was the only one to react. I could feel the warmth of
his back as he settled into me with a little giggle, and then he pulled my
arm around him under the covers. Feeling his warm, smooth chest, I started
to react a bit myself. I'm enough in control that I didn't harden up, but I
could feel my pulse quicken.


He was thirteen years old, and starting to finally get taller. His voice
had only recently begun changing, and I still wasn't entirely used to the
deeper sounds that came out of his mouth. My hand, resting across the
border between rib cage and abdomen, felt his muscles move as he breathed.
I unconsciously dug my fingers in a bit, probing for more, and he wriggled
with discomfort. I could feel his ass against me in that moment.


"You said you wouldn't tickle me anymore," he complained, albeit softly. I
apologized, assured him it had not been my intent, and promised it would
not happen again without permission. He turned to give me a dirty look, but
it quickly morphed into a smile. He settled into me again.


The moon was slowly disappearing, darkening the sky; conversation
unconsciously slipped into low tones and whispers in response. Drew and I
lay still, and after a time I wasn't sure if he was even awake or
not. Perhaps he wondered the same thing, because much to my surprise he
quietly snaked a hand behind him, and gently grabbed my dick.


His fingers probed a bit, as if to verify what body part was underneath
them; I knew it wouldn't be long before an erection removed all doubt. I
was wearing sweatpants, and had little defense against his curiosity.
Realizing that, I slid my own hand down atop his crotch, resting it
there. The squeezing stopped, as did his breathing. Drew now definitely
knew I was awake.


I did nothing more, but my penis continued to harden into fullness
underneath his touch. Before long Drew exhaled, and gently squeezed my
thick tool. I responded in kind, grasping for his young genitals and
quickly realizing that only that one layer of fabric -- dark blue,
waffle-weave long underpants -- kept me from touching him there directly.


When he squeezed again, my other hand went to join his, and then pulled
open the drawstring at my waist. He moved a bit in response; anyone looking
would have thought he was getting more settled, but in fact he pushed his
sex up into my hand in the process.


My probing fingers sought the boy's own waistband, which was snug but no
barrier given Drew's clear assent. He continued to explore my erection
through my sweats, at least until I touched his bare penis and his whole
body quivered. That's when I gently pushed his hand away from me to allow
him to settle back and enjoy the next few minutes fully. He did, with his
pert little butt squarely sitting against my cock, which did nothing if not
make it harder.


The moon was almost completely gone now, and the fire had died down to
embers. No one rose to stir the coals. I had a hot little coal well in
hand, and as quietly and gently as I could I sought to make it hotter
still. Hard as nails he was, yet the picture of control: only his irregular
breathing was evidence of what I was up to under that dark sky, and that
warm blanket. I stroked him from probing tip to feather-soft hairs, traced
his balls front and back, and returned again to explore his young phallus.
When I circled him with my fingers he grabbed my hand to keep it from
leaving; he then made his desires doubly clear by thrusting into my palm.


No sound broke the quiet of the night save for the occasional pop from the
fire ring. No boards creaked underneath us as he urgently, desperately,
moved his penis in and out of my hand while keeping the rest of his body as
still as he possibly could. I loosened my draw string more, then pulled
down the front of my sweats and the back of his underpants with that same
hand. His reaction to me against his naked cheeks was to stop breathing,
thrust harder. I moved slightly, allowing my member to slide between his
legs. The size difference was stupendous. As he resumed his subtle motion,
my penis was caressed by his thighs even as his was by my soft palm. I felt
the backs of my knuckles and his warm sack pass over my head, again and
again, and then he stopped. His penis was fully extended, and he bore down
on me with his silky thighs. I felt a new warmth in my hand, and that
realization was enough to put me over the edge and spray. I think it was
caught in his long underpants. Maybe it just smeared between his thighs.


Either way, with a cough I covered the motion of withdrawing from his warm
treasure-chest. Sensing what was needed, Drew stretched grandly, pulling up
his underwear smoothly as he stood. "I'm going to bed," he announced.


His parents murmured good nights and I said, "Sweet dreams." Mine certainly
would be. If he had turned around, he might have seen me wiping my sticky
hand in the grass.

------

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