Date: Wed, 15 Dec 2004 06:32:38 EST
From: PixaJax@aol.com
Subject: Growing up: Part 7

More to come (Isn't there always!)

Growing up: Part 7

"Would they pay?"
John stared at me uncomprehendingly.
"Would who pay for what?"
I grinned up at him. I was sitting on his lap as usual, and he was gently
fondling my stiffy through my trousers.
"The men. Those men you know. The ones who like doing stuff with young
boys. Would they pay?"
John scratched his bundle, a habit he had when forced to think hard.
"You mean pay boys for....?"
"Yes."
"I suppose so. Never really thought about it before. Paying for it, I
mean."
"Well, I know some boys who would do stuff with men, but only for money.
I asked round."
"The little whores!"
"What's a whore?"
"Someone who does sex for money."
I giggled.
"Oh, guess I'm not one, cos I do it cos I like it!"
"I know you do, you horny little devil. Come here!"
And before I knew it, his hard curved cock was in my hand.
"Come on, you know what I want, little devil. Jack me off."
I set to work on his cock with my usual enthusiasm. I loved how the feel
of his cock in my hand made my own cock pulsate. Heaven.
He spunked up into his hankie, and then thanked me in that polite way he
had, the same way that you might thank someone for offering you a cup of
tea. I had already spunked up in my pants without even touching myself,
that's how horny handling John's cock made me. After we'd cleaned up,
John sat me down on the bench next to him. Serious talk was in the
offing.
"We'll have to be careful, Jack, you know, men paying boys for sex. We
don't want boys who will blab."
"Blab?"
"Yes, blab. Tell other people what they are up to. It's got to be really
secret, like it is between you and me."
"Like a secret club? That's what you said. A club where men and boys can
meet."
"I was only joking, Jack!"
"Yes, but it'll be like a club, won't it? I mean, we'll meet some place
private. Like here, for instance."
"Sure, that's ok. Nobody comes into the bakery, well, at least not into
the loft where you and I ..........."
We both smiled at the memory of our first fuck.
"You know, Jack, I find it hard to believe you are only 12. I mean, you
are so grown up and all."
"Thank you."
I gave him a hug and playfully grabbed his bundle.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry, just wanted to see if you were getting hard again," I giggled.
"Not quite yet, dear boy. Now, about this, erm, club. I'll talk to the
men, and see what they say. And you talk to the boys and swear them to
secrecy, ok?"
"OK. John, I've even thought of a name for the club."
"What?"
"Guess."
"No idea."
"Something to with a cup."
"What? What kind of cup?"
"A  Spun Cup."
"What's a spun cup?"
And as he said it, the penny dropped: "spunk up!"
"You're wicked!"
"So are you, bumfucking little boys. Ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
And in a trice, the meeting degenerated into a tickling match. We talked
some more and agreed to meet again in three days' time. Our next meeting
proved to be even more eventful, but before that took  place I had a
meeting of my own to attend.
[to be continued. Comments to pixajax@aol.com or
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/spuncup]

Jax