Date: Fri, 06 Aug 1999 16:56:08 EDT
From: Marrauder 390 <marrauder390@hotmail.com>
Subject: New story: "Lost Wallet"

          The story that follows is pure fiction. Do not read anything into
it. It's make-believe: it never happened, and it ain't gonna happen no
matter how long you wait.  While we're all sure that there may be
characters who resemble those depicted in the story, any resemblance to
persons living or deceased is unintentional coincidence.

          Any sex acts depicted are idealized, and do not fall within the
realm of "safe sex."  If you intend to have sex with a real person, wrap it
so it don't fall off.

          If reading or possessing copies of this document violates local,
sub-national or national laws where you live, please leave now. If you are
below the age of consent in your community to read or possess material of
this nature, please leave now.  If you are offended by homosexual behavior,
man/boy, man/teen, or boy/boy relationships, then please do not read any
further.

          The author reserves all rights to this story. Please do not
reproduce or distribute without express written permission.

           Absolutely no animals, republicans, children, members of
minority groups or delicate equatorial ecosystems were harmed in the
creation of this document.  Do not insert this document in ear canal.



Lost Wallet


November, 1996

	As he pulled out of the school grounds, Officer Chris Williams
remembered his sergeant and former training officer's advice and wondered
again how it was possible for someone who knew so much to get promoted to
sergeant.  Chris had complained to his friend that he was rapidly getting
tired of day rotation because he always seemed to be going to the middle
school to remove the same boy, Francis, time after time after time.  It
saddened Chris when it was once a month, and now it was happening at least
once a week.  As fast as the kid would finish a suspension and return to
school, he would have some sort of blow out and scare the principal into
calling the police.  Chris' sergeant suggested that if he was tired of
dealing with the kid's misbehavior, and was willing to take a stand,
perhaps he should mentor the kid.

	At first, Chris thought the sergeant was kidding, but the sergeant
went on to explain that the kid was probably acting the way he did because
it was the only way he knew to get attention.  The sergeant was sure that
given a little positive attention, the boy would calm down and become less
of a problem.  Even if he didn't, the kid would at least grow up knowing
that not all cops were ogres.  Chris agreed and the sergeant called the
school that day.  When the boy returned to school, Chris was allowed to
have lunch with the boy, up to three times a week, as an on-duty assigned
detail.  The principal was eager to try anything that might calm the boy
down, and was extremely pleased that the police would invest so much into
helping just one boy.  The sergeant liked having a friendly police presence
in the building and Chris' being there in the school would have a positive
effect on more children than Chris could realize.

	Chris had soon become a fixture in the school cafeteria, where he
would generously give praise and buy desserts for kids who proudly showed
him perfect test scores or gave him unsolicited artwork.  Unnoticed by the
children in the cafeteria, Chris was especially attentive to kids who took
a noticeable interest in Francis, or whom Francis seemed to like.  Francis,
for his part, quickly learned that he had to be in school to have lunch
with his new friend.  He only had one blow out in school after Chris
started visiting for lunch, after which he somehow managed to control his
behavior.  After about a month or so, Francis' popularity at lunch spilled
over into his classes and the boy gradually ceased to be a behavior problem
worth noting.



March, 1997

	Francis' happiness ended around St. Patrick's day thanks to his
mother.  Her only concern for the boy was that his father didn't get
custody of him.  Every purchase she made was calculated to demonstrate not
her love, but that she could care for him in a manner that her ex-husband
could not hope to meet.  On St. Patrick's day, she precipitated a rather
nasty fight with Francis that caused the police to be summoned by the
neighbors.  Regardless of who initiated the argument, the boy was reacting
in a manner that scared the neighbors into calling the police.  The first
cop on the scene saw a tall, slim, blond sixth grader deftly scaling down
the trellis on the side of the house clad only in torn graying briefs,
seemingly oblivious to the harsh cold.  Leaning out the window above him a
truly attractive dark haired woman was busily taunting the boy and throwing
things at him.  Before the cop could react, the boy was down the trellis
and racing barefoot through the snow.  It took several cops a good deal of
time to corral him and get him handed over to the ambulance crew.

	Watching the medics as the examined the tiny boy in the ambulance,
Chris' sergeant was happy that his friend was not on duty.  He knew that
Chris was strong, but he doubted that Chris' strength could cope with
seeing the boy treated so poorly.  He knew that Chris had grown to care for
the boy very deeply.  Silently, he watched the medics roughly cinch the
restraints, binding the boy tightly onto the trolley.  With mounting anger,
he watched as they needlessly tore off the remains of the boy's torn dirty
briefs, sadistically enjoying his distress at having his tiny genitals
exposed for strangers to see.  It was all the sergeant could do to keep
from attacking the medics.  When the ambulance had left with the boy, he
cleared the scene and headed off to see his friend.  He wasn't looking
forward to the visit.



July 1999

	Chris had energetically resisted being posted to school liaison
duty.  He was scared of becoming attached to another child after what had
happened to Francis.  He remembered how sad he felt while the boy was at
the psychiatric hospital, and how empty he felt when he found out that the
courts had reassigned custody of the boy to his father, who lived out of
state.  Chris was eager to distance himself from any reminders of Francis.
Most of all, he wanted to avoid a repeat of the whole blasted episode.  To
further complicate matters, he had recently accepted that he was gay, and
that his tastes ran towards really young looking college-age guys.  He knew
that his department was friendly towards gays, as one of the evening shift
sergeants was a very vocal lesbian, yet this did nothing to allay his fears
of falling victim to traditional New England views on gays and children.
His best bet, so he figured, was to avoid the whole situation entirely, and
although unsuccessful in resisting the new posting, he did try valiantly.

	After his first year as liaison officer had finished, Chris
realized that he still enjoyed working with children.  He had deliberately
not gotten attached to any of the kids, and even though he some times saw a
certain 6th grade boy who resembled his lost friend Francis, none of his
fears materialized.  In time, he even came to appreciate seeing the boy who
so closely resembled his lost friend, and even managed to learn the boy's
name.  When school resumed in the fall, he was quite saddened to learn that
the boy had moved away to stay with his biological father.




	Far from thinking of all this, Chris concentrated on finishing his
laps.  There were certainly more efficient methods of working out, but
Chris preferred swimming because it reduced his chances of exercise related
injuries and allowed him to be visible in the community while off-duty.  In
addition, he was quite happy that people usually didn't attempt to start
conversations with lap swimmers, so he had all the time in the world to
stare and ogle at any cute lifeguards.  He was especially fond of one
particular lifeguard named Jon, who used to live down the street from him.

	Chris finished up his crawl stroke, he decided to look and see if
Jon was on duty.  He liked to take his breaks contemplating Jon's body.
Jon had grown up a lot in the five years since he had moved, and Chris
appreciated the changes.  Remembering suddenly that he wasn't at Jon's
pool, Chris cursed his stupidity and pulled himself out of the water,
flopping down on the first dry spot he came to.  As the warm sun worked its
way into his tired muscles, Chris' cop instincts took over and he began
scanning the environment.  Situational awareness is a necessary skill for
any cop, and Chris was angry with himself for forgetting where he was.  As
a cop, not remembering where you were could end in getting himself or
someone else seriously hurt or even killed.

	Still angry with himself, Chris scanned the area, taking note of
the faces and locations of the other pool goers.  Satisfied that everything
was as it should be, he relaxed a bit and let his gaze wander to the kids
playing in the pool.  Owing to the late hour, Chris hadn't been able to go
to his usual pool, and had to settle for the smaller, older pool located
next to the municipal complex.  He ordinarily avoided this pool like the
plague, due to its poor maintenance, but having just finished up covering a
slot on first shift, he was forced to use this pool if he wanted to get his
exercises in before dinner.  There weren't many kids using the pool, owing
to the time, and Chris' attention was rapidly drawn to a group of boys
playing "Marco-Polo" in the shallow end of the pool.  Chris was able to
remember most of the kids' names, except for two.  One was a tall blond
boy, and the other was a tall dark skinned boy.  Chris was bothered that he
wasn't able to recognize the boys, and he was sure that one of the two that
he couldn't recognize would surely say hi to him by name, expecting to be
greeted in kind.

	Chris concentrated his attention on the two boys that he couldn't
recognize as his mind methodically worked on placing names with faces.
Unconsciously focusing on mannerisms, Chris gradually remembered the dark
skinned boy's name.  He was amazed at how tall the boy had gotten since the
last time he had seen him.  He amused himself for a moment, contemplating
how the boy's parents must be dealing with the boy's surge in height.  If
he was remembering correctly, the boy was already almost a foot taller than
his father.

	Rolling over to a drier spot, Chris turned his focus onto the
taller blond boy.  There was something definitely familiar about the boy,
but Chris couldn't place it.  Nothing was helping him to place a name with
the face, which miffed Chris greatly.  Sensing that the solution to his
dilemma wasn't forthcoming, Chris gave up and hopped back into the pool.
Looking at the clock, he calculated that he had just enough time for one
more set of laps before the staff chased everyone out.  He hoped that the
pool director wasn't a clock-rusher.

	Chris was unable to concentrate on his laps.  Every time his eyes
would land on the blond boy, he would lose his concentration.  He was
becoming obsessed with remembering the boy's name.  Cursing his lack of
focus, Chris swam a little bit closer and pretended to be resting as his
eyes pored over the boy, looking for a clue as to his name.  Chris quickly
noticed that the boy seemed to have better muscle definition than the boys
with whom he was playing.  Treading water, but still looking at the boy,
Chris decided that in addition to the boy's superior muscle definition, his
muscles seemed to be a tad bigger than average for his age, which Chris
placed at about 13 or 14.

	The boy moved gracefully thorough the water, calling out "POLO!"
often, but not every time that he should have.  Chris smiled to himself,
admiring the boy's artful bending of the game's rules.  The boy swam with
confidence, and seemed to exude a sense of authority that the other boys
lacked.  Becoming more and more obsessed with placing the boy's name, Chris
swam to a wall to watch the game more closely.  Gracefully, and in sure,
confident moves, the boy would slip below the surface, swim through the
group and rise on the other side, his defined, yet not over-muscled chest
and boyishly slim abs slicked in water and gleaming in the sunlight as if
he were oiled.  Chris watched this happen several times, before he became
aware of how attractive the boy looked.  Aware that the pool would be
closing shortly, and also quite aware of the boy's age, Chris swam to the
ladder closest to the locker room.  It would be best, Chris decided, to
leave now before he got any ideas about the boy.




	Back in the locker room, Chris soon remembered why he disliked this
particular pool.  Unlike the town's two other pools, this pool was not well
maintained, and having been built 30 years ago, its accommodations were
quite lacking, despite a feeble attempt at renovation a few years earlier.
Paint chips fell freely from irregular splotches of rust on the ceiling,
making it necessary for the attendant to sweep several times a day, even
when there was little or no traffic.  The lockers were no more than dented,
rusty baskets with hoops to accommodate a lock, and the few benches that
survived the renovation were covered in a thick buildup of paint.  In an
effort to improve access for mobility-impaired pool goers during the last
renovations, and as a lame attempt at discouraging sex play by the children
who used the pool, the Rec Department had removed the maze of shower stalls
and changing cubbies to create a wide open room.  This irritated Chris in
no small measure, because he had decided long ago that as he was working
with children, he should concentrate on appearing modest when in public.
It wouldn't do to have a child tell his parent that he saw Officer Friendly
naked in the shower.

Chris' irritation was placated to a small degree when he saw the locker
room attendant.  This boy, Robbie, was often the butt of gay jokes in his
school, which, to Chris' knowledge, he never denied.  As a patrolman, Chris
had been called to the high school a few times to break up fights involving
Robbie and some jock, usually from the rugby or football teams.  Robbie's
exaggerated speech and effeminate mannerisms often irritated some of the
jocks at the school, but for reasons that Chris could guess at, many of the
larger athletes always seemed to come to Robbie's aid.  Chris felt bad for
the boy because his behavior and success in the school's musicals fell
right in line with the old stereotype of gays being artists and actors.
Chris knew that the boy had the potential to be successful with his acting
if he could only survive high school, and he occasionally wondered if
personal taste or a need for survival motivated Robbie's friendship with
the larger jocks.

	Chris greeted Robbie, and exchanged a few pleasantries as he headed
to the showers.  Deciding that he would have given the boy a show if there
were still partitions, he was forced to shower with his suit on because of
the accommodations.  Reverting to expected locker room etiquette, he
showered facing the cracked and moldy wall, and was quite surprised when a
voice greeted him by name from the next showerhead.  He looked up in
surprise and saw the blond boy that he had been watching a few moments
earlier.  Smiling, the boy stated that he didn't remember seeing Chris at
the pool before.

	The boy's smile provided the clue that Chris was looking for, and
he immediately recognized the boy who used look so much like his lost
friend Francis.  He was impressed at how the boy had matured from a short
scrawny sixth grader into a well-developed almost-eighth grader.  "Hi Phil.
I thought you moved out of town?" said Chris.

"Yeah, I did," said the boy, "I went to live with my dad.  I'm spending the
summer with my mom.  But you didn't answer my question, how come I haven't
seen you here before?"  Phil was quite nervous.  He had seen Officer
Williams watching him earlier in the pool, and was afraid that he was in
some sort of trouble.  After the cop had left, without arresting him, Phil
felt relief.  When he found the cop in the locker room a few minutes later,
Phil decided that perhaps the cop just wanted someone to talk to.  Phil had
noticed that the man had swum a great deal of laps alone.  Phil knew all
about being alone.  He had never quite adjusted to life in town, then his
mother decided to take him up on a statement made in the midst of an
argument and he found himself alone again in Georgia, this time living with
his dad.  No matter where he was, he didn't fit in.  Yes, he knew all about
being lonely.  But that was not all.  A swimmer himself, Phil had admired
the man's form and breath control and hoped to some day have the same form.
Phil hoped that there was a way to become friends with the man and perhaps
get the man to coach him on his swimming.

"Well, with school out in the summer, I don't have much to do" Chris was
saying.  "My sergeant is nice enough to let me nudge my hours forward so I
can have afternoons off to swim.  Most of the time I go to Northwest pool.
It's a bit nicer than this pool, the locker rooms are cleaner, and I like
the showers better, but today I was covering a patrol shift, and if I
wanted to get all my laps in, I had to come over here."

"You think Northwest is better?  This pool's cleaner than that place!" Phil
said, as he soaped up his chest.  The two began a short debate on the
relative merits of each pool, continuing as they finished their showers and
moved back towards the lockers.

Chris decided that since the boy was eagerly prolonging the conversation,
he would change under his wrapped towel instead of in the toilet stall as
planned.  Glancing over towards Robbie, Chris noticed the older boy staring
raptly at Phil.  Continuing to stare at the older boy while debating with
Phil, Chris finally made eye contact with the older boy and noticing him
blush, Chris winked at him.

For the first time since noticing the man swimming laps earlier, Phil was
able to take stock of the man's body.  He wasn't good with ages of adults,
but he figured that Chris couldn't be more than 30 or so.  Phil noticed
that Chris was his height with hair just a tad darker than his own.  He
noticed the extremely well developed upper body on the man, taking note of
the man's traps, upper shoulders and lats.  He also noticed that the man's
chest and abs, covered ever so lightly in short brown hairs, were very well
built, although not as defined as a competition swimmer.  Phil decided that
he liked what he saw, but wasn't sure why he liked it.  All he knew was
that he felt a really good tingle in his stomach when he looked at Chris.

Completely ignorant of the exchange between the cop and the locker room
attendant, Phil finished his drying and started sorting his clothes as he
inquired about changes at his old school.  Phil hoped fervently that
Officer Chris would change in the open, even though couldn't bring himself
to do so.  He noticed, far too late, that he was starting to put his nice
dry pants on over his sopping wet bathing suit.  He felt very stupid, but
knew that he couldn't do anything about it, as the cop or the attendant
lurking in the shadows would surely figure out that he had been distracted
by SOMETHING.  Lacking better ammunition to distract the cop from his
obvious distress, Phil kept on talking.  His father always maintained that
he was good at that.

	Chris turned his whole attention back to Phil, smiling to himself
about the confused look that he had put on Robbie's face.  He answered
Phil's questions as he finished dressing and started to leave.  Phil was
hurriedly stuffing himself, wet bathing suit and all, into a pair of overly
long cargo-pocket shorts.  When Chris turned to go, the boy grabbed his arm
and hurriedly asked Chris if he was coming back the next day.  Chris
replied that he planned on returning to his usual pool, but that he was
happy to have seen Phil again.  Turning to leave, he stopped when the boy
yelled, "WAIT!"

	Phil was frantic.  He didn't know what he was feeling for this man,
but he knew it was something powerful.  He didn't want the man to go, yet
the man kept blowing through every attempt he made at prolonging the
conversation.  Phil smiled inwardly when he realized that he had spoken
more this afternoon than he had spoken all week, pool games not
withstanding.  He liked this state, but he had become a southern boy at
heart and until he had started talking to Officer Chris, he had wondered
why he had been so eager to return for the summer.  Not knowing what to do
next to keep the man's attention, he improvised.

	Phil quickly asked Chris' opinion on the size of his biceps.  He
knew from the way strangers would make comments about his upper body that
he had nothing to be ashamed of.  Making a muscle, and oblivious to the
rapt attention his display was garnering from the attendant behind him,
Phil held his arm up so that Chris could see it.  Not waiting for Chris to
reply, he quickly grabbed hold of Chris' left hand and placed it on his
muscle and quickly locked his bright gray eyes on the cop's.  It was all he
could do not to jump as he felt the cop's hand come in contact with his
arm.  Chris' hand on his arm was so gentle, his touch so delicate that Phil
couldn't believe how good it felt.

Sighing inwardly, and not realizing what the boy was really up to, Chris
started to inspect the boy's muscle.  Immediately, he noticed how soft the
boy's skin was, and how smooth it felt.  The very next thing he noticed was
that the boy did indeed have a solid muscle, and in fact, it was one of the
firmest muscles that Chris had ever encountered.  Chris was surprised when
he easily felt the striations in the muscles and the metal-like firmness of
the connective tissue.  He gently slid his hand up and down the boy's upper
arm, marveling at what he felt.

When Chris squeezed his biceps, Phil thought he would pass out for joy, but
when Chris gently began to stroke his hand up and down the muscle, the
delicate yet powerful touch left Phil fighting to not yell his head off, it
felt so good.

Chris was quite impressed with Phil's muscle tone and he told the boy so,
then quickly, before the boy could think of another delay, he told the boy
that he would wait for him to finish changing.  Casting a quick glance over
at the pool attendant, he saw that the red haired boy was quite obviously
enthralled by the younger boy's body; the evidence in his shorts was hard
to miss.  There was no doubt that Robbie had vicariously enjoyed the whole
experience.

	Outside the bath house, Chris breathed in the fresh air, happy to
be away from the smell of chlorine and mold.  Phil walked along next to
him, happily chattering about his school in Georgia, how it was warmer
there most of the school year, and about how fun it was just to be outside
and doing things in the warm sun.

Phil couldn't believe his good luck when Chris agreed to wait for him to
change, and hoped that he wasn't making a total ass out of himself.  He
couldn't remember ever meeting an adult that took him seriously and didn't
make him feel like a little kid.  Stopping next to an expensive looking BMX
bike at the bike rack, painted in nuclear green-Metalflake, Phil shifted
from foot to foot, happily prattling on about various other things that
interest 13 year old boys.  His mind was in autopilot and he had no idea
what he was saying one second after he had said it.  He fervently hoped
that he wouldn't give away any of his deep secrets or say anything dumb or
embarrassing.

For his part, Chris was becoming fascinated with the boy's voice.  He was
amazed at how the child had picked up such a wonderful southern accent in
such a short time.  Convinced that he could listen to such a voice all
night, and not minding that the boy seemed ready to try it, he was alarmed
when the boy stopped suddenly.  Phil cocked his head to one side and
listened to the carillon at the Congregational Church in the center of town
chime three-quarters past the hour.  With a quick 'Ah, SHIT', he hopped on
his bike and pedaled off as if his life depended on it, not even bothering
to say 'goodbye'.

	Chris stood still for a moment, his mind still working on the
events of the last few moments.  He was not sure, but he decided that he
probably was becoming attracted to Phil.  The boy's puzzling behavior
seemed so cute and innocent, and was clearly a ploy to get some attention.
After all, this was no longer Phil's town, and everything about him from
his soft southern accent to his polite southern manners marked him as not
being from the area.  Walking towards the police parking lot next door,
Chris also admitted to himself that he found the boy fascinating, and
perhaps attractive.  Remembering his lost Francis, he admitted to himself
that Phil was a boy, and promptly put him out of his mind.  At least he
tried to.

	Phil was embarrassed.  He could not have been more embarrassed if
his pants had fallen down in church.  He had Officer Chris' total undivided
attention, and he had forgotten all about getting home on time.  How could
he have been so stupid?  He had probably blown any chance of getting to
know the man better, which made him quite angry.  He hoped that he would
beat his mother home.  She didn't strap him like his dad did, but her words
often hurt more.




	The next day, Chris worked his own shift, so he was free by lunch
time.  After informing the dispatcher where he would be for the next few
hours, and that he would be off pager, Chris left for the pool.  The night
before, he found himself thinking of Phil quite often, remembering how the
boy looked, how his extremely well defined muscles and darkly tanned skin
looked covered with a glossy sheen of water, and how firm his muscles felt
under the boy's baby soft, down-covered skin.  Chris knew that he was
fascinated with the boy.  Contemplating the boy's silky smooth southern
accent and impeccable southern manners, he was truly tempted to visit the
boy's preferred pool again instead of going to his own favorite pool.  The
boy was indeed quite attractive, and until he had met Phil, Chris had no
idea what some people found so attractive about southern farm boys.  Now
knowing full well what it was that was so attractive, Chris wanted to see
the boy again.  Stopped at a traffic light, Chris wondered if he would be
avoiding Phil if the boy were a few years older.  Smiling to himself, Chris
admitted that if Phil were a college student and not a middle school
student, he probably would have tried to bed the boy already.

	Chris pulled into the park and wheeled his big truck around to his
favorite parking space.  Driving an official vehicle while off duty had its
share of problems, most notably that the license plates, red dash and
grille lights and the antenna farm on the roof informed anyone with half a
brain that this was a police car.  At the same time, in exchange for not
being able to get beer or go anywhere even remotely questionable, Chris
also had reserved parking anywhere he went.  It was easily identified and
clearly marked with bright yellow paint reading "TOW ZONE."  'Do as I say,
not as I do', Chris thought as he parked the truck under the shade of a
tree near the pool house.  After locking his gun, badge and cuffs in the
gun safe in the center console, Chris grabbed his gym bag and headed off to
the pool.





	After changing quickly, Chris headed out towards the pool deck, and
was not surprised when he heard someone call 'Officer Chris!'  He WAS
surprised when he saw Phil bobbing happily in the water waving to him, a
big smile plastered across his face.  Chris hopped in next to the boy and
they exchanged greetings.  Phil told Chris that he had made his mom drive
him across town to this pool because he wanted to see if it had changed or
not.  Remembering that boys were often strange and unpredictable, Chris
agreed with the boy and made as if to swim away.  Phil immediately asked
Chris if he could hang around him because he couldn't find anyone that he
knew at that pool.  Chris agreed, and the boy joined him in his laps, quite
obviously happy.

After Chris had completed a few sets of laps, the boy asked if they could
go off the diving board.  Chris decided to humor the kid and agreed.  It
only took the boy one dive for Chris to realize that Phil had a lot of
practice, and they happily spent the next half hour trying different dives,
each trying to best the other.  Quite a few kids and a few adults had
stopped by this time to watch, and they applauded each diver's skill,
saving their most energetic applause for the boy who rewarded each round of
applause with a nervous downward glance and a cute bashful smile that
brought his dimples out.

Once again, Phil decided that it was time to move on.  He thought that he
could impress the cop with his diving skill, but he was sure that the man
had bested each and every one of his dives.  He was more than a little bit
irritated, and decided that he needed to do something to even the score.
He was happy when Chris readily agreed to go back to swimming, not for a
moment believing that Chris had forgotten how tiring it was to perform
precision dives back to back.  They left the diving area to a final
smattering of polite applause, and hopped back into the five feet area of
the pool.

The boy immediately splashed Chris, and quickly slipped under the water,
popping up just out of splashing distance.  He already had an idea of how
fast the man could swim, and he knew that he was about as fast.  He was
counting on his being smaller and more flexible to help him get away after
each attack.  Chris immediately eliminated the distance between them with a
few powerful strokes, but just before he could splash the boy, Phil
playfully splashed him again, right in the face and slipped under the water
again.

Chris quickly dove under the water and gave pursuit to the impish boy.
Despite being concerned that someone would spot them and decide that his
behavior was inappropriate, he had to admit to himself that he was having
fun.  Stopping four or five feet from the boy, he cautiously circled,
probing for a weakness.  Just as he was about to issue a quick splash back,
Phil's well shaped darkly tanned foot emerged inches from his face, reared
back and splashed a good deal of water into the cop's face.  The boy
giggled happily and quickly zipped under the water.  Chris dove under as
well and swam for all he was worth until he closed in on the boy's feet.
Grabbing one, he tried to tickle the boy but the boy's silky smooth skin
slipped right out of his fingers.  Rising for air, he was rewarded with a
mouthful of water, courtesy of his sleek little friend.

Phil was quite happy.  Chris seemed to be enjoying himself, and didn't seem
at all angry.  Phil knew that starting a splash fight was a big risk, but
he also knew that he needed to do something to bring him and the man closer
together if he wanted to know the man better.  After a few coughs and
unspoken curses, Chris regained enough of his voice to tell the boy that
when he finally got caught, he was not going to get splashed, but would in
fact have his suit removed and would receive several firm swats on his bare
posterior.  This made Phil's stomach tingle excitedly.  He had thought a
great deal about Chris the night before, and he had decided that there was
something special about the man.  He thought that it was possible that
Chris was like him, and the thought of Chris touching his bare rear end
made him tingle all over with excitement.  The boy's gray eyes sparkled and
he quickly told Chris that he was far too old to catch him.  Splashing a
generous amount of water into Chris' eyes, he happily swam away as quickly
as if he had been born in water.

Realizing that the boy was an equal match to his own abilities, Chris
decided that the game was no longer fun, and decided to let the boy get
away with it.  Noting the boy's position and that he was rapidly escaping,
Chris slipped under the water and sped off in the opposite direction.
Surfacing, he looked around, and seeing that the lap lane was once again
clogged with gray-haired lane hogs, he found a quiet area and resumed his
laps, even though he was quite sure that he had worked out more than his
usual amount that day already.  He needed to rid himself of the nervous
energy that had built up from spending so much time with the captivating
boy.  There was something completely engaging about the boy.

Phil didn't take long to notice that Chris wasn't chasing him any more.  He
was scared.  Was the cop angry?  Was he just tired?  He decided to try
something else he had been thinking about, and turning around, he began to
search for the cop.  After all, he had taken a great deal of risks that
day, nothing had blown up in his face yet.  Why shouldn't he try one more
time?

Chris had completed a few additional laps of crawl stroke and felt some of
the nervous energy dissipating.  A short while later, and immediately after
a change of directions, Chris felt a distinct and powerful tug on the
bottom of his suit, as if someone was trying to remove them.  He stopped
immediately and saw Phil back-stroking away lazily, a canary-eating grin
plastered across his face.

Chris glared at the boy, contemplated the relative merits of pursuing him,
and bowing to wisdom, he resumed his laps.  On the very next lap, he felt
fingers gently entering his suit at each hip immediately before a powerful
tug.  Once again, he stopped, this time catching one of Phil's wrists.  The
boy's smile threatened to split his head in half, he seemed so pleased with
himself.

Chris looked at the boy's face for a moment, taking in the boy's perfectly
spaced medium gray eyes, so captivating under a set of perfectly drawn long
straight eyebrows.  The boy's medium blond hair was plastered to his
forehead, and came about an inch or so down from his hairline, stopping
about an inch or so above those enticing eyebrows.  Quite a few hairs stood
up on the whorl at the back of his head, and still more stood up moving
forward down the part at the center of his head.  Under his sparkling gray
eyes, his lower eyelids puffed out a bit before meeting his rather high
cheekbones.  Phil's nose was beautifully proportioned, ending in a
delightful set of curves, providing contrast and support for a set of
dimples that bracketed his well-shaped mouth.  Phil's face was longer and a
bit more thin than Chris usually found attractive, but despite not having
the overly chubby cheeks that Chris usually liked, he was still gorgeous.
A beautifully sculpted round chin finished off a face that Chris decided
anybody in their right mind could fall in love with.  Without a doubt, the
boy still resembled Chris' long lost friend Francis, but the differences
had become more pronounced.  Chris was sure that whatever he was feeling
towards this boy, it was not a result of misplaced feelings for Francis.

Phil had taken his biggest gamble yet.  He hoped that he was reading the
situation right: if Chris had stopped chasing him because he was tired,
this might work.  If Chris had stopped chasing him because he was angry,
then he was quite sure that he was in for more trouble than he had
experienced in his whole life, strappings included.  Judging from the way
Chris was looking at him, Phil figured that he had chosen correctly.  The
man wasn't angry, he was just tired.  The sinking feeling that had been
growing in his belly quickly turned back into the tingle of excitement.
Even though he had tried to remove Chris' swimsuit, Chris didn't seem at
all angry.  What a positively wonderful sign.

Chris watched the sunlight flash off the boy's braces and momentarily
wondered why such beautifully shaped white teeth would need braces in the
first place.  His contemplation was interrupted as the boy swung his free
arm around behind Chris and tried vainly to yank his swimsuit into a
wedgie.  Chris pulled the boy partially out of the water by the wrist that
he was still holding and reminded him of the 'owed' swimsuit removal and
spanking. Before he could pretend to start that action however, the boy
swung both of his feet up to Chris' well-muscled, but not quite flat belly
and shoved off, breaking Chris' hold on his wrist.  Chris threw himself
into pursuit of the boy and quickly closed the distance, before grabbing
him around the knees.

Phil's excitement was growing.  He was very happy that Chris didn't seem
too mad at him, so he decided that since Chris seemed to enjoy chasing him,
he'd keep instigating a chase.  Just to keep Chris happy, he decided that
he would stop making every escape as if his life depended on it.  Some
times its better to lose.  Feeling Chris' grip on his knees loosen just a
slight bit, Phil figured that the man was going to surface for air.  Timing
his next maneuver carefully, he squirted out of the man's grip as the man
reached the surface.  Taunting Chris, he asked what was so hard about
catching just one skinny kid?

Chris couldn't believe how cute the boy looked as he taunted and had to
laugh.  He told the boy that he was certainly the best adversary that he
had ever had, barring none.  Phil replied that he wasn't that good, he just
noticed things that other people missed.  Chris pondered that statement for
a moment, wondering if the boy intended it as the double entendre that it
sure sounded like.

Noting the change on Chris' face, Phil was certain that he had gotten both
meanings across with his last statement.  Watching the man circle, he
crouched down and emulated a boxer's defense posture when Chris lunged
again at him.  Taken by surprise, Chris quickly surfaced, laughing and
coughing at the same time.  Sensing that Chris was incapacitated, Phil
quickly dove between the man's legs and yanked at his suit as he passed
under.

The two friends continued sparring for the next fifteen minutes, and then
the loudspeaker came to life, announcing that the pool would be closing in
10 minutes, and that pool patrons should finish up and leave as soon as was
convenient.  Phil cast a puzzled look at Chris, not sure that he had heard
correctly.  It was only four o'clock.  The pool shouldn't be closing until
five o'clock.  He was sure of it.  Center Pool closed at five.  Still
puzzled, he saw his new friend swim leisurely towards the side and exit the
pool.  He was shocked when Chris confirmed that the pool was indeed
closing.  How was he going to get home??

Phil followed his friend into the locker area and showered in the stall
next to him.  He was too angry and sad to speak.  He hadn't given a
moment's thought on how to get home, and now it was time to go home.  His
mother would be working until nine that evening, and he figured she would
probably follow her friends out for a drink or two if it had been a
stressful night.  He continued to rinse the chlorinated water off himself
angrily as he realized that he hadn't gotten very far in befriending Chris.
He was confident that Chris liked him, but he hadn't made any kind of
special bond yet.  He desperately wanted to have Chris as a special friend,
yet he seemed powerless to make that happen.

Savagely slamming the water controls to 'off', he stormed out of the shower
stall in time to see Chris dump his shorts onto the floor.  Chris was busy
talking to a handsome lifeguard, and wasn't really paying attention to what
he was doing.  Before Phil could even think of anything smart to say, he
saw Chris' wallet and change fall out of his pants pocket as the pants
again fell towards the floor.  Pouncing down on the change, he deftly put
Chris' wallet into his shorts feeling the coldness of the leather on his
penis.  Scooping up a handful of change, he gave it back to Chris, offering
a smirk instead of a smart-assed comment.

Chris was embarrassed, not only had he done something dopey in front of
Jon, the cute lifeguard, but he had also done it in front of a witness.
What must Phil think?  Chris knew that at the moment, he was acting like a
high school freshman when the prom queen walks by.  He took his change back
from Phil, pleased that the boy didn't make a smart-mouthed comment.  He
was so flustered that he completely missed the boy stuffing his wallet in
the front of his swimsuit.

Chris changed quickly under the towel, and was surprised to see that the
boy wasn't making a move to change.  Instead of changing, Phil was folding
his clothes and piling them up on the bench, as if he had no intention of
putting them on.  A moment later, he watched the boy head off back to the
pool area.  Confused once again by the boy's behavior, he said goodbye to
Jon and headed back to his illegally parked police vehicle.




"HEY!!  WAIT!!  OFFICER CHRIS!!" he heard as he walked down the ramp
towards his truck.  Turning around, he saw Phil hurrying towards him,
clutching his neatly folded clothes, clad only in his bathing suit.  When
the boy reached him, he quickly explained his predicament, telling the man
that he had forgotten to plan a way home, and that he couldn't reach anyone
on the phone who could give him a ride.  Nervously looking downward, afraid
to make eye contact, he asked for a ride home.  Chris thought for a moment
and agreed, deciding that it would probably be safer for the boy than
walking.  Reaching for his wallet to get the kid an ice cream at the
terribly convenient Good Humor jump truck, he realized that he didn't have
it.  He excused himself and ran the short distance to the bath house.  Jon
was still washing the floor when he came in, and helped him to look for the
missing wallet.  Both Chris and Jon were stymied that the wallet was
nowhere to be found.  Jon reminded Chris that his pants had fallen once and
almost fallen a second time, and that it was possible that the missing
wallet had fallen out and bounced into a locker.  While they were looking,
the pool director walked in and told the two that the place really had to
be locked up soon, as the alarm would come on automatically in a few
minutes.  Jon looked at Chris and offered to personally search all the
lockers for the wallet when he came back the next day.  Satisfied but not
happy, Chris thanked the life guard and walked back towards the truck.

Phil was still waiting where Chris had left him, and Chris realized that
the boy didn't know which vehicle was his, even though he was standing
about 100 feet from it.  Chris felt pleased that he had finally managed to
get one over on this most precocious boy.

Chris' assigned vehicle was a year-and-a-half old Ford Expedition that his
department had confiscated in a drug bust.  Already painted in the
department's preferred dark blue and fitted with expensive wheels, chrome
brush guards and diamondplate running boards, it was a stunning vehicle to
begin with.  The previous owner had installed a powerful Garrett
turbocharger with a large intercooler and a low restriction exhaust, none
of which proved terribly useful when he got arrested with the truck full of
marijuana.  Upon assuming ownership of the truck, Chris' department had
further modified the vehicle, fitting it with police, fire and ambulance
radios, a scanner, two cellular phones and concealed strobe lights in every
possible space and behind most lights.  An IBM mobile data terminal and a
200-watt Whelen siren with concealed speakers finished off the police
equipment.  Chris would never admit it to the kids, but his department had
equipped the vehicle this way in the event of a school disaster.  As Chris
was the school liaison officer, in such an event, this vehicle would be
used as a base for him to coordinate operations from.  As much as his
brother officers envied the vehicle, they didn't begrudge him for it.  None
of them wanted to be in his shoes if things ever got ugly in a town school.

The big Expedition was already equipped with remote keyless entry, a remote
starter, an alarm, and the best possible ground thumping stereo that the
former owner's drug money could buy, complete with a 10 disc CD changer.
The former owner had also installed a 10-inch color television and a VCR.
The windows were tinted a bit darker than stock, but not so dark as to
obstruct vision.  The department had sprung for a pinstriping job in cobalt
blue.  The pinstripes accented every nameplate, mirror and door handle on
the truck, and complemented tiny hand painted department patches on each
door, where you would expect to find the owner's initials.  Chris was very
proud of the truck, and all the kids who had seen it to date were equally
impressed.  The official debut would be at the Labor Day parade at the end
of the summer, but Chris was already using it at the insistence of his
sergeant, who wanted the D.A.R.E. officer's D.A.R.E.-mobile to have a
little bit of friendly in-house competition.

Chris moved past the boy towards the truck, smiling to himself when the boy
asked where they were going.  The parking lot was in the other direction.
"You did ask for a ride, right?" asked Chris.

"Yes," replied the boy.  "But where is your car?"

	Chris just stopped, turned towards the boy, and smiled.  Phil,
suddenly realizing that Chris was headed towards the truck, ran towards it
for all he was worth.  Chris smiled as he pawed at each and every window,
peering in, his face clearly showing his approval.  Still walking towards
the truck, Chris activated the remote starter and unlocked the doors.  This
shocked the boy completely, but he quickly recovered, and after looking
back to Chris for approval, he hopped in and started to examine things in
earnest.  When he arrived at the truck, Chris had to explain each and every
item visible in the front to the boy, going over each item's function in
detail when the boy asked.  Chris showed him the gun safe, and the medic
kit in the rear, as well as the TV, VCR, and the cell phone in the back.
The boy happily played with the strobe lights and reverently touched the
microphones for the radios and the P.A., while eyeing the empty shotgun
mount.  When he had calmed down a bit, he turned to Chris and surprised
Chris by observing that the vehicle was more of a mobile command post than
a police car.  After allowing the boy to play with the stereo for a short
while, it was finally time to take the happy boy home.

	The conversation on the way to Phil's house was quite light and
happy.  The boy was exuberant when he found out that he was the first kid
to get a ride in the truck.  He was even more delighted to hear that not
many kids would get the privilege.  Most kids, despite what they might say,
really and truly want something special for their very own.

	Phil was happy.  He was overjoyed.  The truck was without a doubt
the coolest thing that he had ever laid eyes on, and even more amazing was
how patiently Chris had explained each and every item on the truck to him,
stopping only when he was sure that Phil understood its usage.  His
feelings towards Chris, already quite strong, had become even more powerful
after realizing that in giving him a tour AND a ride in the truck, Chris
was giving him a treat that very few kids would have under happy
circumstances.  He wanted to hug Chris and thank him and thank him again,
but he didn't think it was too becoming for a soon-to-be eighth grader.  He
couldn't believe how attentive Chris was.  Once, at a stoplight, Phil had
mentioned that he sometimes got afraid riding in a car during rush hour.
Chris had reached over ever so gently and slipped his finger between his
naked chest and the seatbelt and took the slack out of the belt.  Just as
gently as before, he explained to the boy that he was safer with the belt
cinched tight because, in the event of a collision, it allowed him to
accelerate less before the belts.  Phil knew he wanted Chris to touch him,
but when he didn't and just fixed the belt, Phil realized that while Chris
seemed to want to touch him , he wasn't going to without express
permission.  At that moment, he felt such intense warmth towards Chris that
he thought he would cry.  A moment later, he felt a twinge of guilt as he
felt the leather of the man's wallet pull at the foreskin of his penis.





	Arriving at Phil's house, Chris took note of its unusual
landscaping.  A large house on a street of large houses, it stood out
because of the high evergreen hedge that surrounded it.  At least ten feet
on the sides, the hedge was only five to six feet tall in front of the
house, allowing the upper part of the house to be seen from the street.
Chris took stock of the house's layout while he listened to Phil's
explanation of the house's history, and how it had been built specially for
the contractor who had built the neighborhood.  Phil directed Chris to pull
the truck into the driveway, explaining Chris' concerns away by stating
that his mother wasn't due home for at least five hours, and perhaps as
many as seven or more.

"I had fun, you know, at the pool with you today," Phil said, after the
truck was stopped.

"You know," Chris replied, "So did I.  I guess you gave me a better workout
than I had planned."

"It's too bad about your wallet," the boy said, feeling the bulk of the
wallet as it rested on his penis.  "You know, losing it an' stuff.  That
really sucks.  All that money, all those credit cards.  I sure hope your
badge wasn't in there too."

	Chris started to thank the boy for his concern, then realized that
he hadn't told Phil about losing the wallet, and had never explained why he
had gone back into the pool house.  Looking at the boy a bit more closely,
he wasn't too surprised when the boy pulled the strings on the front of his
wet bathing suit, reached down in front, and produced his wallet.  Nor was
he surprised when the boy held it up over his head with his right hand, far
away from its owner, brushing the roof with it.  He WAS completely floored
when after a moment's standoff, the boy flipped the wallet back at him.

"You know, if someone ever stole my wallet, when I got it back, I'd waist
no time in spanking his ass!" said Phil, running his words together.  "Yep.
I'd strip his wet bathing suit right off and take him over my knee."
Having said that, Phil hopped out of the truck, ran a few feet in front of
it, and turning around, dropped his wet bathing suit in back enough to
taunt his cop friend with a three-quarter moon.  He wiggled his slim butt
seductively and didn't pull the suit up or start for the side of the house
until he was quite sure that Chris was chasing him.

	Phil was scared and thrilled at the same time.  He didn't know what
would happen when Chris caught him.  He was hoping that Chris would take
the bait, strip him of the clammy wet swimsuit and spank him.  Even though
he didn't relish the thought of a spanking, he knew that even if he were
totally pissed off, Chris probably wouldn't come close to hurting him the
way his dad could with a belt.  Phil was confidant of this, deciding that
after the way Chris had gently probed his biceps the day before, and
because of the gentle way he had taken the slack out of the seatbelt, the
cop wouldn't spank him TOO hard.  He was hoping that with the way that
Chris had been starting to look at him, perhaps they would wrestle a bit,
where he could 'accidentally' grope Chris, and Chris could grope back if he
wanted to.  He knew for sure that he was becoming fascinated with Chris'
body, and he hoped that the feelings were mutual.  It would be great to
have a friend like that!!  On the downside, perhaps Chris would catch him,
cuff him and arrest him.  Phil wasn't too keen on that, but he was sure
that you didn't make any gains without taking chances.

	Chris sat in the front of the truck, dumbfounded at what he had
just heard.  He had sat awake for hours the previous night thinking about
this boy, and how much fun they could have if the boy was older.  After the
bit with the wallet in the truck, Chris quickly realized that meeting him
at the pool had been no coincidence, and that the boy was looking for the
same kind of attention that Chris was agonizing over wanting to give him.
As the boy taunted him about being spanked, Chris thought about how silky
smooth and soft the boy's rump would feel, whether or not he spanked it.
He envisioned snuggling with the boy, the two of them enjoying each other's
closeness, their hands free to roam over each other's body with no
restrictions.  He sat staring blankly and then realized that he was staring
at the boy's naked butt through the windshield.  Before any neighbors could
see the boy's bare butt, Chris bolted out of the truck and after the kid,
thankful for the high poplar hedge that surrounded the property.  Racing
through the gate that connected the house with the poplar hedge, he was
surprised to see that the boy wasn't as far in front as he had imagined he
would be.

	Phil was very happy that Chris had taken the bait.  Looking over
his shoulder, he was convinced that the look on the man's face wasn't
anger.  He hoped that he was right.  He decided that it would probably not
please his mother too much to have to collect him at the police station,
and he cringed inwardly at the thought of Chris telling his mom about being
mooned.  At this point, he was committed to his plan, and the consequences
would happen as they may.  Slowing down a bit, he decided to make himself a
better target for Chris.  He wanted desperately for the cop to catch him.
No matter what happened, he was sure that he would enjoy the man's strong
muscular arms around him when the man tackled him.

	Running fast, but not flat out, Chris rapidly closed the distance
between himself and the fleeing boy.  Almost in position for a tackle, he
admired the boy's form, and marveled at the effortless way that he ran.
This kid could be a track star if he wanted to.  Finally in position, Chris
lunged forward, grabbing the boy around his small waist with both arms.
Chris could feel boy's muscles writhe below the baby soft skin and his arms
momentarily reveled in the heat radiating off the boy's lithe body.
Following through on the tackle, he shoved the boy forward and off balance,
then remembering that this was a boy and not a criminal, he yanked the boy
around, bringing himself down first in the surprisingly soft grass with the
shirtless boy on top of him.

	Phil was startled by the suddenness of the man's tackle; one second
he was moving forward and then he was heading rapidly towards the ground.
This was definitely a tackle technique that he would have to learn before
going back to Georgia.  When he played football with some of the kids after
school, tackling usually involved either sweeping the feet out from under
your opponent or hanging on and letting gravity pull the two of you down.
He was startled as the sudden combination of arms around his waist and a
surge in momentum knocked him off his feet.  He was even more surprised
when Chris rotated them in mid fall to take the brunt of the impact.

	Chris had braced himself for a sharp impact, but the surprisingly
soft grass had attenuated his fall, leaving him quite alert and ready when
the boy tried to squirm out of his grasp.  Hoping that the boy was
ticklish, he shifted his grip and tickled the boy's well-defined abs with
one hand and the side of the boy's chest with the other hand.  Chris was
rewarded with happy giggles as the boy squirmed and pressed his bare back
into his face.  Noticing with each hand how smooth the boy's skin was, he
marveled at the firmness of the tight little muscles underneath.  Getting a
decent whiff of the boy's particular scent mixed with the chlorine odor of
the pool, Chris was almost overwhelmed as he felt the boy's smooth muscular
back arch into his face.  Losing himself in the moment, he renewed his
tickle assault on the boy, causing the boy to press his arched back even
more aggressively into his face.

	As he fell on top of Chris, Phil's mind was still racing, hoping
that he wasn't going to get arrested.  He had told the man the truth
earlier.  He did notice things that other people missed, and he was hoping
that he was right about Chris' feelings towards him.  Operating on
instinct, he immediately began to squirm his way free when he felt Chris'
impact on the grass.  He was caught completely unaware when Chris shifted
his grip and began to tickle him, first with one hand on his belly, then as
he stopped trying to escape, with a second hand on the side of his chest.
He was shocked by the sudden turn of events and his mind couldn't keep up
with what was going on as he tried to renew his efforts to escape.
Momentarily blinded by his own fear, Phil didn't realize that the tickling
felt good or was fun.  Fortunately, his body did, and as he arched his
back, he felt Chris' face press into his upper back.  As Chris' shaved
whiskers lightly scratched his back, Chris realized that he was being
tickled, and that Chris was not angry at all.  His plan was working!  The
man was playing with him, and they were both having fun.  His happiness
grew in leaps and bounds as he surrendered to the tickling.

	Soon, Chris felt the boy relax and give himself over to the
tickling.  Chris gradually relaxed the intensity of the tickling, letting
the boy catch his breath.  Realizing what he was doing, Chris admitted to
himself that thanks to this most precocious and engineering little boy, he
was having more fun than he had experienced in weeks.  Feeling the boy
relax even more, he rolled over, flopping the boy onto the ground, then
quickly picked the boy up fireman style and carried him towards the house.
Despite the tall thick poplar hedges, Chris was afraid of a neighbor seeing
the two of them and deciding that Chris was trying to hurt or take
advantage of the boy.

	The last few minutes had gone better than Phil had dared to hope in
his most optimistic fantasies about Chris.  He was constantly amazed at how
gentle Chris was with him; Chris didn't tickle with violence, like his
uncle did, but was amazingly sensitive towards Phil, slowing down enough to
give him breathing breaks.  Phil was also amazed at how Chris seemed to
know where all the most ticklish spots were on his upper body.  It was
almost like he was reading from a map!  Feeling the man once again relax
the intensity of the tickling, and expecting a renewed assault at any
moment, he was shocked when he felt the man scoop him up and flop him
unceremoniously on his powerful shoulders, fireman-style.  Momentarily
afraid, he was about to protest when he felt the man wrap one arm around
his legs and place the other hand protectively on his rump.  Just a few
wriggles caused the man to grip his legs rump tighter.  Chris' new grip on
his rump had his thumb resting in the slight valley of the boy's swimsuit
over the cleft in his rump with the rest of his hand tightly clenching a
butt cheek.  Phil was absolutely in heaven.

	With the tired boy flung over his shoulder, Chris rapidly
approached the house, hoping that the boy's mother would indeed be out.
Even though his inhibitions towards the boy seemed to be dissolving, he
still didn't relish the thought of having to explain himself to the boy's
mother.  Nearing the house, the boy directed him to the French doors on the
extreme right, explaining that they were almost always kept unlocked as
they were his secret way in and out.

Chris opened the door to what appeared to be a very manly study.  Deep
burgundy carpet covered most of the floor except near the large open
fireplace, where fieldstone flags extended outward from the hearth.  Oaken
wainscoting rose to meet an elaborately carved chair rail.  Rich looking
patterned wallpaper combined a rich hunter green with the burgundy of the
carpet and the oak color of the wainscoting.  Overstuffed leather chairs
stood sentinel on each side of the fireplace, matching an equally
overstuffed couch across from the French doors.  A massive oak desk
occupied a remaining corner of the room, its brass fixtures blending with
the brass floor lamps spread out across the room and the brass track lights
hanging from the beam and plaster ceiling.  A few credenzas filled the
remaining space in the room.  Puzzled, Chris stopped immediately upon
entering the room.  Something didn't add up.

When Chris stopped, Phil knew almost immediately what had stopped him.
Phil knew that Chris was puzzled at finding a man's study in a single mom's
house.  Knowing that he had to explain things really quickly, Phil wasted
no time in telling Chris that this room had been his dad's study when they
all lived together.  He explained that his mother hadn't changed anything
in the room, and had left it alone for him.  He explained that his mom
wanted him to have some reminder of his dad when he was living with her,
and for that reason, she put up with a constant reminder of her ex-husband.
Sensing Chris relax, Phil felt relief and kept quiet as Chris inspected the
room, forgetting for a moment the boy on his shoulder.  Phil allowed Chris
a few minutes to get a sense of the room and to see the really cool
pictures of old racing cars that his dad had left on the walls.  Wriggling
ever so slightly to remind Chris that he was there, he was caught
completely unaware when Chris spun around and deftly planted him on the
leather couch with a resounding splat.

Chris was momentarily stunned when the boy told him of how his mother had
left this room alone for him as a reminder of his dad.  Her generosity in
leaving him this personal area clashed sharply with the suddenness of her
decision to place the boy with his father in Georgia.  Chris thought about
this for a moment as he looked around the room, taking note of the vintage
racing photographs on the wall mixed with pictures of a younger Phil.
Feeling the boy squirm on his shoulder, he wheeled around and spying the
couch, he unloaded the boy as suddenly as he could.

The couch had to be one of Phil's favorite things in the whole house.  He
loved the feeling of the leather on his bare skin, and often came down and
stretched out naked on the couch in the middle of the night, if he was
having trouble sleeping.  He was addicted to the rich embrace of the
leather, the way it smelled, and the way it caressed his young body.  When
Chris slammed him down on the couch, the force of the blow and the crisp
sting of the cool leather on his back and legs startled and comforted him.
Looking up, he noticed Chris standing over him, contemplating his next
move.  Recovering slightly, Phil giggled nervously, deciding that whatever
Chris had in mind would be great by him.

The loud wet splat of the boy hitting the leather couch worried Chris for a
moment, causing him to momentarily pause before pressing his assault on the
little imp.  He hoped that he hadn't thrown the boy down onto the couch too
hard.  Seeing the boy's smile, and hearing him giggle reassured Chris, and
he mentally resumed his preparations to carry out the boy's wish and
'punish' him for swiping the wallet.  Standing over the boy, he looked down
at the boy's purplish gray swimsuit.  For the first time, he noticed the
embroidered 'Speedo' on the lower right cuff.  This caused him to smile
inwardly.  Despite common wisdom, which held that anything that Speedo made
accentuated and drew attention to what it was supposed to be covering, this
swimsuit gave nothing away.  He had no idea what he would find when he
removed the garment from the boy in preparation for spanking.  Despite the
amount of time he had spent with the boy, and regardless of his many visual
examinations of the boy's well-defined form, the Speedo trunks gave no
indication of what was under them in front.  The suit appeared to be made
of a heavy grade cloth, and allowed no visible bulge.  The only indication
of the boy's physique that he suit allowed was of a typical slim,
unremarkable teenager's butt.

Chris dropped himself on top of the boy, resting on his hands and knees.
Once again taking in the mix of the boy's private scent and chlorine from
the pool, he asked the boy if he was ready to be punished.  The boy giggled
in reply and said that Chris wouldn't have the guts to strip him and spank
him, but that he was welcome to try.  Pausing before pressing his attack,
Chris looked the boy in the eye and in a direct and serious voice inquired
if the boy really wanted to go through with this.

Phil was overjoyed with the way that Chris was standing over him, so
obviously enraptured with his body.  The long hard hours helping the
workers on his dad's farm apparently paid a substantial dividend, just as
his dad had said that it would, although probably not as his dad had
intended.  His heart beat anxiously as Chris threw himself forward and
pounced on top of him, resting on his hands and knees.  His stomach tingled
with excitement as the man asked if he was ready to take his punishment.
What was the guy's problem?  Didn't he remember who suggested it in the
first place??  His excitement grew as Chris brought his face even closer
and asked in a totally serious voice if he wanted to go through with this.
At that moment, he loved Chris more than he had thought possible as he
realized how deeply Chris cared for him, and how protective Chris felt
towards him.  He quickly told his friend that he was ready, and agreed to
tell Chris at once if he changed his mind.

Chris raised his hands to meet Phil's hands, still lazily sprawled over his
head where they had bounced when Phil landed on the couch.  Ever so gently,
he traced the blue and purple veins visible on the boy's inner wrist
towards the boy's chest, lightly touching the boy's inner arms with his
fingertips as he traced the veins into the boy's shoulders.  As he reached
the boy's armpits, Chris saw a few lonesome hairs standing guard in the
soft whiteness, silently begging for attention.  He paused a moment,
admiring how the boy's dark tan gently faded into what must be his natural,
almost pearly white skin color.  Chris was fascinated by the variations in
the boy's skin color as his gaze wandered from the boy's darkly tanned
lower arms, to his tan upper arms, to his soft pearly white underarms.
Chris gently traced where the boy's clean white armpits met his richly
tanned chest, and moving his hands gently to the top of the boy's
collarbones, he traced down the boy's chest with his fingertips.  Moving
back upwards, he traced each rib and around the boy's darkened nickel-sized
nipples.

Reverently, Chris followed the contour of the boy's highly defined pectoral
muscles and traced their outline in lazy circles several times before
moving on to the curves of the boy's highly prominent rotator-torso
muscles.  Keeping his face close to his work, he soaked up the boy's scent
as it fought to cover up the diminishing chlorine smell.  Moving his hands
downward, he traced the outlines of the boy's floating ribs and the bottom
of his ribcage.  Pausing to lightly tickle the boy there, he watched the
boy's incredibly cute abdominal muscles tense and contract, tense and
contract as the boy fought to control his reaction to the feather-light
touch.  Zipping his hands back up to bottom of the boy's throat and the
boy's incredibly cute collar bones, he followed the valley between the
boy's pectoral muscles as it moved downward towards his taught belly.
Moving across the once again heaving belly, he traced the outline of the
boy's abdominal muscles as they came into view, and then gently smoothed
the boy's belly when the muscles momentarily receded.

Phil loved the attention that he was getting from his friend.  He had never
felt so good in his whole life, and he wanted the moment to last forever.
He couldn't believe his good luck that his intensely risky gambles had paid
off.  Once again, Chris was reading his body as if he were referring to a
roadmap.  He didn't even realize that he was ticklish in some of the places
where Chris was tickling him until it was too late.  Chris's touch seemed
so good that he felt he would cry for joy.  The man's soft warm hands made
him feel more alive than he had ever felt in his whole thirteen years.  The
tingling of excitement in the boy's belly had subsided as he gave himself
over to the man's 'punishment'.  He wondered if Chris would really spank
him.  Just the thought of that started his belly tingling with excitement
all over again.

Chris kept alternately rubbing the boy's abdomen and tracing the
musculature of his tight belly as he enjoyed the scent of the boy rising
towards his greedy nostrils.  He began to alternate his attentions to the
boy's belly with gentle tickles and touches to the boy's sides.  Soon, he
began to pepper his tickling with a silly running banter that seemed to fit
in with the tickling.  He tickled the boy's sweaty white armpits, zipping
from there down to the sides of his belly near the top of his hips, where
he would softly pinch the boy in the extremely ticklish spot.  As the boy
happily writhed from the tickling, Chris taunted him about reacting to the
tickles.  After a while, Chris resumed his alternate rubbing and stroking
of the boy's belly slowly, waiting for the boy to catch his breath before
he would return in earnest to the business of tickling the boy's armpits.

Running the tips of his fingernails across the muscles at the sides of the
boy's abdomen, he was finally rewarded when the boy arched his back as
hoped.  Not waiting for the boy to recover from his current round of
tickling, he moved his hands up to the boy's inner arms, gently tickling
and rubbing with the tips of his nails.  The boy writhed in ecstasy, small
happy noises coming from him as Chris gently repeated the touch in the
wispy hairs of his armpits.  The boy's happy sounds and giggles blended
with Chris's running banter as he quickly slid his hands down the length of
the boy's abdomen.  Upon reaching the top of the boy's hips, he reversed
the movement of his hands, allowing the tips of his nails to tickle the
boy's tender sides.

Feeling more pleasure than he had thought his body capable of, Phil was
overwhelmed when Chris began to alternate his fingertips with the tips of
his nails as he rubbed and tickled the sides of his abdomen.  The touch was
like nothing that Phil had ever experienced, and he arched his back
involuntarily as he reacted to the touch.  Chris' silly running banter was
exactly what Phil needed to make the experience complete.  Chris moved once
again up to the inside of Phil's arms, fighting to maintain contact as Phil
squirmed happily under the assault.  Phil was hoping for a momentary
respite, and began to wonder if Chris would slow down to give him a
breather soon, as he had done before.  He was becoming winded and needed
the rest.  As Chris quickly shifted to his now sweaty armpits, Phil began
to writhe with joy all over again.  The sensations running through his body
made him feel better and better.  Each new assault on his ticklish young
body increased his feelings of happiness and joy.  Lying on his favorite
couch, feeling the warmth of the leather on his bare back, he felt a deep
sense of inner peace from the closeness and loving touches of his new
friend.

Phil felt Chris' hands zip downward towards his hips and reverse into the
incredibly tickly thing that he did there with his nails.  Once again, he
arched his back involuntarily as his body tried to get away from the
intense stimulation it was receiving.  He was caught totally by surprise
when he felt Chris' fingers enter the top of his bathing suit.  He was
still writhing from the most recent round of tickles as Chris quickly
pulled down and yanked his damp suit past his raised rump and down his
legs.  Phil knew what was coming next, but he was powerless to stop his
body as his friend pinched him in the ticklish spot over his right hip.  As
his feet automatically kicked out, he felt his suit slip past his feet and
off his body while his bare butt slapped down on the leather couch.  He was
now totally naked in front of his friend.  As he squirmed under the renewed
tickle-assault, feeling the warmness of the smooth leather on his damp
rump, he realized that everything that he had been hoping for was
happening.

Seeing the boy fall into his trap, Chris deftly yanked down on the boy's
swimsuit as the boy arched his back.  With Phil's butt clear of the couch,
nothing prevented the suit from slipping off, and Chris pulled the suit
down to the boy's feet.  Softly pinching the boy in the ticklish spot over
his right hip, he was rewarded when the boy's feet kicked out.  Taking
advantage of the Phil's position, Chris deftly pulled the suit the rest of
the way off.  Quickly bringing his eyes up to the boy's face, he looked for
any sign of distress.  Finding none, he resumed tickling the boy with
vigor.  Continuing to watch the boy's face, he soon noticed a smile
forming.  Relieved, Chris let one hand move to start tickling the boy on
his inner thigh as he continued to tickle the boy's soft but defined belly
with the other hand.

Glancing again at the boy's face, and seeing the content look still there,
he chanced a look at the boy's genitals.  Nestled in a tuft of wild
brownish blond pubic hairs, a small damp, pale, water-shrunken penis peered
back at him from its perch on top of a tightly bunched up, pale white
scrotum.  Chris wasn't sure at first if the boy was circumcised or not.
Unaware that the boy was watching him, he continued to stare at the
beautiful penis and finally noticed the retracted foreskin.  Continuing to
explore the boy's genitals with his eyes, Chris decided that the boy's pale
white, water-shrunken penis was exquisitely beautiful, and looked so
absolutely kissable, nestled as it was in its soft bed of pubic hair.  He
longed to kiss it, but his fear of the boy's reaction to that special sign
of affection kept him from giving in to his desires.  With more than a
little bit of difficulty, Chris moved his gaze to the boy's scrotum.  From
what he could tell, the boy's balls looked quite average for his size, and
Chris guessed that they were only slightly smaller than his own were.  From
the way that the scrotum was almost retracted INTO Phil's body, Chris was
sure that it was cold, and longed to cup it with his hand to warm it.
Imagining how nice that would feel for the both of them, Chris resumed his
attention to his tickling.  With one hand, he continued to tickle at Phil's
inner thighs, taking care to stay away from the boy's genitals.  With his
other hand, Chris alternately tickled or smoothed the boy's belly,
occasionally moving to work on the boy's side.  Sensing that the boy was
not tiring out, he quickly scooted down on the couch, and tucking the boy's
ankles under the crook of his arm, he began to tickle the boy's tan,
well-shaped feet in earnest.

	Unable to believe that his fantasy was coming true, Phil was
happier than he had ever been in his life.  Just as he had hoped, he was
now laying on his favorite couch, the setting for so many of his sexual
fantasies.  Ordinarily quite bashful about being naked with another person,
he was relieved that Chris had managed to get him naked so skillfully; he
was sure that he would have never gotten that way for Chris left to his own
devices, no matter how much he might want to.  Now completely naked as his
new friend explored and tickled him, everything was happening just as he
had always imagined.

Finding himself naked and subject to another's gaze, he suddenly remembered
his last visit to the doctor.  With distaste, Phil thought about how his
dad and a large puffy-faced female nurse had held him tightly enough to
bruise while the doctor roughly took his pants and underpants down.  He
remembered how awful he had felt as the doctor probed and touched all
around his penis and scrotum while his father and the puffy faced nurse
silently held him and watched.  Phil still got angry thinking about the
nurse's laughter as she helped his dad twist him around and hold him as the
doctor inserted two greasy gloved fingers into his rump.  Even now,
thinking of how the man's fingers felt there made him want to cry.

Watching his new friend's eyes wander over his genitals, he felt
apprehensive.  A nervous tingle took hold in his lower groin, but he didn't
feel like he had in the doctor's office just a year ago.  Phil continued to
watch as the man stared longingly at his genitals and remained silent,
sensing the admiration and love radiating from his friend.  Suddenly, he
felt better than he ever thought he could about being naked.  He longed to
have the man touch him in his private areas, but didn't know how to go
about asking for it.  He didn't want his new friend to think that he was
strange.

As his friend relaxed the tempo of his tickling, Phil thought about his
current state of nakedness, and how wonderful it felt to be sharing his
body with someone who was so obviously appreciative of it.  Knowing that
his new friend would never ridicule the size of his penis or threaten to
hurt it, as the big old mean red-faced nurse had done, he felt happy and
wondered if there was a chance that his friend might do more than tickle
him.  He hoped that Chris would, but his reverie was interrupted when Chris
started in on tickling his feet with a vengeance.

	Phil's feet were so indescribably cute.  About a size ten, they
were just the right size for his body.  They were perfectly formed and not
too big or too small.  They were quite evenly tanned and not covered with
calluses on the bottom, as was so often the case with active boys.  Each
toe was exquisitely formed and seemed to be screaming at Chris to suck on
it.  Chris worked on tickling each foot to the limit of his ability and was
barely successful at resisting the temptation to do more than tickle the
tantalizing feet.  Deliriously happy with his work, he felt the boy's whole
body writhe and squirm and thrash about on the couch with each new assault.
Turning to look, he saw that the boy's thrashings had almost reached the
critical point, and he renewed his efforts at tickling the boy's feet with
new vigor.

	Quite suddenly, just as he thought he couldn't stand a moment's
more tickling on his feet, Phil felt his friend scoot forward on the couch,
coming to rest under his left hip as his thrashing slowed to a stop.
Totally breathless and feeling quite drained of energy, he felt his friend
roll him over onto his belly, leaving his bare naked rump exposed to his
friend's gaze.  Too tired to resist, he felt Chris shift him so that his
lower abdomen was on Chris' left thigh and his penis was pressed into the
scratchy hairs on Chris' right thigh.  He remained helpless to fight as he
felt Chris gently run his warm hands over his lower back and rump.
Remaining in place, he soaked up the intensely good feelings as his friend
softly massaged him from just above the dimples on his lower back to the
tops of his upper thighs.  Completely relaxed and feeling happier than he
could ever remember having felt, Phil's love for Chris increased with each
passing minute.  Convinced that his friend was too gentle to ever spank
him, Phil decided that he needed to take action if he were going to get
what he wanted in that respect.

Ever the imp, he found the energy to speak and breathlessly taunted his
friend, telling him that the rump massage felt great and was the best
spanking that he had ever gotten.  He was about to suggest that Chris
massage a little bit higher when Chris' left hand languidly grabbed hold of
his right wrist and casually pulled it up towards the nape of his neck,
suggesting a compliance hold, but without enough pressure to actually cause
pain.  He knew suddenly that he was really going to get spanked.  The
tingling in his belly and groin intensified to a fever pitch, fueled by his
anticipation of the impending spanking and the sensations that he was
getting from his penis, which was still crammed into the scratchy hairs on
Chris' upper thigh.

His penis had never been touched by anyone else, save for his last and most
unpleasant visit to the doctor.  Not a kinky boy by nature, Phil hadn't
even thought of putting his penis in contact with the leather of the couch,
even on the nights when he would steal down to the study to lay naked
there.  His mind was awash in the new feelings his penis was experiencing.
For the first time since entering the house, his penis was warm; it had
been so cold in the clammy wet bathing suit.  Earlier, Phil had felt it
retract into his body, but the warmth of Chris' body had taken care of that
now.  Happy now that his penis was warm, he felt his penis being scratched
gently by the hairs on Chris' thigh.  This was not altogether unpleasant
and actually felt kind of neat.  As he wiggled gently on Chris' lap, he
could feel his penis returning to a normal size and state despite the
weight of his body pressing it back into his groin.

Phil felt completely excited as he waited breathlessly for the first swat,
hoping that his friend would be gentle.  Waiting nervously, he was shocked
when he suddenly felt a stinging pain in his rump, to the accompaniment of
a wet SMAK sound.  His rump, having been the subject of such a tender
massage just moments before stung more than he imagined it would, but he
could tell that Chris wasn't putting all his strength into it.  After the
third swat, he felt Chris lean down and was surprised to feel Chris' hand
on the side of his face as Chris asked him if he still wanted to continue.
If Chris didn't have him pinned in a mock compliance hold, Phil felt that
he would surely have jumped up and hugged his friend until he turned blue.
Phil couldn't believe how much Chris seemed to care for him, even while
playing this silly game.  He immediately replied that he was a very bad
boy, and deserved at least 20 swats, perhaps more.

Chris nervously raised his right arm and brought it firmly down on the
boy's butt cheeks with a resounding SMAK.  Pausing, in case the boy wanted
to stop, he waited a few seconds before repeating the action two more
times.  Still scared that the boy was no longer enjoying the game, he
leaned over and cupped the boy's face with his right hand and asked him if
he should stop.  Relieved when the boy insisted on at least twenty smacks,
he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss Phil when he sensed that the boy was
equally concerned about him.

SMAK!!  SMAK!!  SMAK!!  SMAK!!  Phil felt his rump getting hit one cheek
then the other, again and again.  He could feel the cool air rushing in
front of his friend's hand seconds before each hit.  His reddening rump
cheeks tingled and throbbed.  His father had strapped him on several
occasions, but almost always, the pain disappeared quickly and a dull
throbbing set in.  Never had Phil experienced such and exquisite
manipulation of his rump as his new friend was providing.  Chris seemed to
hit only hard enough to get the feeling across, but thanks to his tender
massages before beginning the spanking his rump was still sensitive and had
felt the differences in each hit.  When Chris paused after a few hits to
massage the boy's aching butt, Phil cursed him out loud, knowing that the
massage, which felt so wonderful on his rump at the moment, would make the
next few hits sting all the more.

His words had scarcely left his mouth when Chris applied enough pressure to
Phil's pinioned right arm to force his hips firmly into his thigh.  Chris
knew that Phil could now feel the scratchy leg hairs pressing into his
groin and he loved every second of it.  He wanted the boy to remember that
he was naked and on the lap of another person.  He wanted this silly kinky
boy to get whatever it was that he seemed to need out of this game.

Phil's cusses had just left his mouth when he felt his friend increase
pressure on his pinioned right arm.  He knew that he probably shouldn't
have cursed out loud at his friend, and he hoped that his friend didn't
take offense at the words.  Soon, Phil began to notice the scratchy yet
tickly sensations that his penis was feeling as it pressed into Chris' leg.
Each blow from the spanking drove Phil's penis into his friend's leg, and
despite this, he had yet to spring an erection.  He was amazed that he
hadn't gotten an one yet because at his age, Phil got erections for just
about any reason.  With a final, powerful slap that hurt much more than the
rest, Phil knew that Chris was done.  He had been enjoying the feelings
that his belly and penis were getting from Chris' leg hairs about as much
as he enjoyed the way Chris massaged his rump every few hits.  He felt sad
that the game was over.  He hadn't wanted it to end.

As he released the boy's pinioned arm, Chris realized that Phil's spanking
game was over.  He had thoroughly enjoyed playing rough with Phil, and felt
more than a little bit sad that he had reached the end of the game.  He
wondered if Phil had more in mind, but he didn't want to push the issue.
Phil was just a kid after all, and kids' emotions don't always function
like adults.  He hoped that Phil wasn't upset over getting spanked or being
naked.  He knew that he was having a great deal of fun, but didn't want his
fun to cause the boy any pain.

The boy felt his friend's hands once again roaming over his back, from his
shoulder blades to the bottom of his rump.  Phil hoped that his friend
wouldn't stop after only spanking him, but he was afraid to ask the man for
more.  Feeling the gentle touch once again on his back and rump, Phil
decided that he could probably continue the game a bit further and shaking
Chris' hands off, he stood up.

The being that stood in front of Chris looked more beautiful than any of
the college age guys that Chris had been dating and chasing since coming
out.  Immediately, he decided that he had been wasting time with the
spoiled college kids.  This creature that stood in front of him was better
looking than anyone Chris had ever laid eyes on.  Chris looked at the boy,
taking in his beautifully tanned arms and his boyish, yet extremely defined
chest and abs.  Chris wanted to run his hands all over the boy's chest, and
especially the boy's collar bones, which almost begged to be touched.
Chris' gaze moved from the boy's chest and belly to his groin.  It wasn't
as pale as Chris had first expected it would be when he fell in love with
the boy's pearly white armpits, and in fact, was just only a little bit
lighter than the boy's belly, although there was a recognizable tan
line. Quite suddenly, Chris realized that the seraph standing in front of
him must regularly sunbathe in the nude.  It was the only explanation for
the different skin color.

The boy's penis was now what Chris guessed to be its regular size, and was
surprisingly not erect.  Chris gazed longingly at the little organ, now
about three inches or so long and just a bit darker than the surrounding
skin.  It was perfectly proportioned from the base to where the glans hid
under the foreskin.  Phil's foreskin had worked its way back to its proper
position during the spanking and now covered the immature organ correctly,
allowing a respectable amount of his slightly reddened glans protrude from
the tip.  Chris began to feel the urge to reach out and touch the boy's
penis, so profoundly was he affected at the sight of it.  Feeling his
resolve begin to crumble, he quickly improvised and asked Phil if he had
learned anything from his 'punishment'.

The boy looked at his friend for a moment, his mind a confusing clutter of
recent images, random thoughts, and love for his new friend.  Unable to
find words to tell Chris how he was feeling, he timidly shook his head in
the affirmative, then pounced onto the man's lap knocking him flat onto the
couch.  With his arms wrapped around his friend's neck, and his knees
trying to wrap around his friend's hips, all he could do was blubber "I
love you."

Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing from this incredibly beautiful
boy.  He had decided that the boy must have some feelings towards him, or
he would never have started such an intimate game, but he hadn't even dared
to think that the boy could actually feel love for him.  He didn't
understand that the boy's feelings had evolved and grown at the same time
his own had.  Gently, he began to stroke the back of the boy's head with
one hand as he rubbed the boy's back and neck with the other hand.

	Phil had never felt so loved and so secure.  He had grown up
knowing that both parents loved him very much even when his father strapped
him or his mother turned her razor sharp tongue on him.  None of that
prepared him for the feelings that he was now experiencing towards Chris.
He loved the gentle way that Chris treated him, even when spanking him.  As
Chris rubbed the back of his head and his back, Phil realized that Chris
would never initiate any kind of sexual activity, so great was his fear of
causing pain.  Phil knew that he would have to be the one who started
things.  This didn't bother him a bit because he knew that Chris acted the
way that he did out of love.  And besides....it was fun to be the
initiator!!

	Detaching himself from his friend, Phil got to his feet and pulled
Chris back into a sitting position.  Seeing the look of confusion in Chris'
eyes, he took hold of Chris' right hand and placed it on his belly, far
below the bellybutton and very close to his pubic hair.  Looking Chris in
the eye, he once again repeated "I love you."

	Chris felt sure that Phil was embarrassed as he slowly detached
himself and stood up.  He looked apprehensively at the boy as the boy
dragged him to a sitting position.  He was still enraptured by the boy's
beauty and the incredibly defined musculature of the boy's upper body.
Chris again gazed longingly at the boy's penis and was shocked to feel the
boy pick up his hand and place it just over his pubic hairs.  As Phil
repeated his declaration of love, Chris felt a powerful need to cry, but
held it in, not wanting to scare his new friend.  Looking to the boy's eyes
in confusion, he felt the boy again take hold of his hand, and this time
place it on his warm, perfectly formed penis.  Chris felt his heart
pounding in his chest as he asked the innocent cherub "Is this really what
you want to do?"

	'What is this guy's problem?  Why isn't he touching my penis?'
thought Phil.  As his heart thumped loud enough to be heard a block away,
he decided to be more forward with his friend, and again grabbed the man's
hand and this time placed it on the base of his penis, over his pubic
mound.  'If he doesn't know what to do now, I'll never get anywhere with
him,' the boy thought again.

	Looking up at the boy's face once more, Chris could see how rapidly
the boy's heart was beating from the way the arteries in his neck were
jumping.  Gazing downward to the boy's chest for confirmation, he saw the
skin over the boy's heart moving as if something underneath was trying to
get out.  Recognizing that Phil must be as nervous as he himself was, Chris
began to explore the boy's penis with his hand.  Bringing his free hand up
to the boy's body, he reached around and began to rub the boy's rump with
that hand.  He could feel how silky smooth the boy's penis was, and how
velvety soft the glans was as he peeled back a bit of foreskin for a peek.
Slowly, and completely unlike a typical kid of his age, Phil's penis
gracefully increased in size under Chris' touch.  Chris could make out more
and more details on the organ as it struggled to reach its full four and
one half inches in size.  The pattern of veins and arteries just under the
almost translucent skin was intoxicating, and looked more delicate and
beautiful than any penis that Chris had ever seen in his whole life.

	Phil felt his knees begin to shake as his friend slowly started
exploring the offered organ.  Secretly relieved that his friend hadn't
rejected the overture, he was still feeling apprehensive about having
another person touch his most private area.  He couldn't get the images and
memories of that last, horrible doctor's office visit out of his mind.  He
was close to calling the whole thing off when he felt Chris pull him closer
and plant a wet raspberry right on his bellybutton.  Phil was so
momentarily startled that he almost fell over.

	Chris was busy examining his new friend's scrotum and balls when he
felt the boy start to stiffen.  Nervously, he looked up and saw that the
boy's gaze had turned inward.  The boy was probably reliving some painful
incident in his past.  Chris cared more about the boy at that moment than
he had thought possible to care about another human being, and he couldn't
stand to see the boy in pain.  He knew that he could stop what he was doing
and talk to the boy, knowing that he would do a respectable job of helping
the boy to work his problems out, but he also didn't want to let go of the
moment.  Thinking quickly, he pulled the boy in closer and planted a wet
raspberry on the boy's tight little muscular belly.

	Quickly recovering from the raspberry, Phil noticed that his
friend's hands were still on his penis, even though his eyes were locked on
his face.  Looking down to his friend, and suddenly no longer remembering
the doctor's office, Phil leaned down and kissed Chris on the forehead.
Wondering how his friend would take that, he was shocked to feel wetness on
his penis.

	The crisis averted, Chris was thinking about how much he wanted to
suck on the penis in his hand when the boy kissed him on the forehead.
Taking that as a continuing sign that the boy wanted to go on, Chris leaned
inward, and after inhaling the boy's healthy teen smell, he began to lick
around the shaft of the boy's penis, slowly, deliberately.  It tasted a
little of pool chlorine, despite the shower that the boy had taken before
leaving, but more importantly, it tasted of penis.  It tasted more like
what he liked in penises than any he had ever treated in this manner.
Continuing with his slow, methodical ministrations, Chris worked downwards
to the boy's now saggy scrotum.  Pausing in his licking to engulf the boy's
right testicle, he savored it and rolled it around in his mouth for almost
a minute before releasing it and repeating the performance with the boy's
other testicle.

	When he realized that he was getting an actual, honest-injun, real
life suck job from his friend, he wanted to run around the room and scream
and yell.  Phil had never even thought that Chris would do that.  He had
figured that if he placed his penis near enough to his friend's reach, his
friend MIGHT just be inclined to play with it for a bit, and that he MIGHT
just get an orgasm out of it.  He had seen the way that Chris looked at his
body, and in particular, his penis, and he figured that Chris would do
SOMETHING special, but he had never dared to think that he might get a suck
job.  Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn't thought that his friend would
do THIS to him.  Once again, his mind was awash in strange new feelings,
thoughts, and fears, as he released himself to the moment.  Placing his
hands on Chris' shoulders, he was really getting into the way his friend
was lapping around his penis when his friend popped one of his testicles
into his mouth!!

	Finishing his ministrations on the boy's left testicle, Chris was
debating whether or not he should repeat the performance when he noticed
that the boy was trembling.  The rapt look on the boy's face quickly told
Chris that the boy was very much into the oral attention that he was
receiving, and Chris figured that the trembling was more anticipation than
anything else.  He quickly resumed his efforts on the boy's testicles,
pausing occasionally to cat-bathe the boy's scrotum, after which, he would
return to his play with the boy's testicles.  He continued this for several
minutes, only partially noticing the increasingly loud happy noises that
the little cherub was making.

	Phil was becoming more and more excited with the effects of his
friend's tongue.  His body was becoming overloaded with wave after wave of
wonderful feelings that he had never in his life thought were possible.  He
body was becoming more and more aroused and sensitive with each passing
moment.  He didn't realize how much he was shaking until his friend paused
and looked up with a concerned look on his face.  Massaging the man's
shoulders as a sign of affirmation, he was rewarded when his friend resumed
his efforts at a substantially more aggressive pace.

	Chris reluctantly released the boy's testicle and began to lap
around each side of the boy's groin, where the leg meets the body.  The
smell and taste of the boy was even more powerful there and it turned him
on more than he could remember ever having been.  After completing his
second pass of the area, he once again returned to the boy's penis where he
lapped around the base and nuzzled in the boy's wild brown pubic hair, once
again reveling in the scent of the boy.  He lapped up towards the head of
the boy's penis, making sure to stay away from the glans area at the top
before retreating slowly and deliberately towards the bottom.  Repeating
the action several times, he could tell from the boy's excited whimpering
and shaking that he was driving the boy insane with pleasure.  Then,
without warning, he engulfed the whole magnificent organ, not stopping
until his nose was pressed flat against the boy's belly.

	Awash in warm feelings, Phil's head was completely muddled.  His
only recognizable thought was that he loved Chris.  He was completely
unable to classify or cope with the warm and wonderful feelings sweeping
throughout his body.  As his friend's increasingly more urgent licking
increased the amount pleasure that he was experiencing, Phil was finding it
more and more difficult to stand.  He realized that his friend had long ago
stopped massaging his rump and was now using both hands to help him stand
up.  It was a good thing for that too, because when his friend engulfed his
whole penis without warning, he knew that he would have fallen onto the
floor were it not for his friend's strong hands holding him by the rump.

	Now supporting most of the boy's weight with his hands on the boy's
rump, Chris was barely able to work his fingers into the boy's rump cleft.
Gently probing, he massaged the area and finally came into contact with the
boy's anus.  Feeling it twitch and spasm in time with the jumping of the
boy's penis, Chris contented himself to just tickle and stroke it as best
he could while still supporting the boy's weight with his hands.

	Phil could now feel his friend's tongue probing the tip of his
penis, trying to work its way between his glans and his foreskin.  At the
same time, he felt his friend's fingers gently and respectfully stroking
and tickling at his bung hole.  He really enjoyed this despite his previous
misadventures involving his anus, and he wondered how it was that he had
not discovered that it felt so good when he explored on his own.

	Chris could feel the boy getting closer and closer to orgasm, and
he increased the energy level of his licking and sucking.  Pausing from
gentle deep-sucking the boy, he worked his tongue around the boy's glans,
causing the boy's shudders and moans to increase to a fever pitch with each
swipe of his tongue.  He paused to nibble at the boy's foreskin for a
moment before relaxing the energy level of his lapping and sucking.  He
wanted the boy to have a powerful orgasm, but there was no sense in rushing
things.  Slowly, coyly, he resumed lapping at the boy's balls, pausing
occasionally to bring one or the other into his mouth.  He even lapped up
as far as the boy's belly button, and after generously lapping around it
and poking his tongue at it, he gave the unsuspecting boy a raspberry
before quickly gulping the boy's penis down his throat again.

	No longer able to focus on anything save for his feelings towards
Chris, Phil was experiencing the most incredible sensations due to his
friend's efforts.  He had come so close to orgasm and then Chris quickly
backed off only to bring him close to orgasm again.  He didn't understand
how Chris knew when to back off and when to push, but he was sure that he
couldn't survive too much more of this when he felt himself slipping over
the edge....

	Quite sure that the boy in his arms couldn't take much more and was
ready for orgasm, Chris skillfully licked and sucked at the boy's penis,
paying special attention to the sensitive area just under the head of the
penis at the front.  While rubbing and tickling the boy's anus with his
fingers, he freed a hand up and began to tickle the shuddering boy's
scrotum, which was now quite tightly tucked against his body and the
delicate area behind his balls and in front of his anus.

	Feeling the tingling in his lower body increase, Phil was surprised
to feel his orgasm building everywhere that his friend was touching.  As
his scrotum tightened down its last few millimeters towards his body, Phil
felt his semen pulsing upwards through his penis and into his friend's
mouth.  He was amazed to feel the orgasm not only in his penis, but also at
his anus, on his scrotum, and on his lower belly where it rubbed against
his friend's head.  He collapsed on top of his friend, who continued to
touch, fondle and tickle him while sucking.  His orgasm seemed to go on for
hours as he lost himself in the experience, but he knew that it could only
be a matter of seconds, perhaps a minute at best.  As the intensity of his
orgasm faded from its violent peak, he felt his friend slow down and
gradually stop his actions, save for sucking.  He giggled as his friend
continued to suck at his slowly deflating penis.

	Chris was himself shocked at the intensity of the boy's orgasm.  He
had had experienced countless orgasms himself, and had offered his many
former partners too many orgasms to count.  Never had he felt someone tense
up as little Phil had, never had a partner whined and made the noises that
Phil had during his orgasm and the preceding fellatio.  Now, with the boy's
orgasm finally over, and with the boy lying on top of him, Chris
reluctantly released the boy's incredibly beautiful penis from his mouth
and began to hold the boy close to him.

	It took a while for Phil to recover his reason after the incredible
ride that Chris had given him.  When he finally became aware of his
surroundings, and felt Chris holding him tightly to his chest like a very
large baby, he wanted to cry.  Never had he felt this way towards another
human being, and never had he experienced the sensations that Chris had
given him.  He wanted to reciprocate, but he was afraid to ask to.  He was
also sure that he didn't know what to do, which made him afraid to try.  He
was relieved that Chris seemed so happy just holding him.

	Looking down at the boy in his arms, Chris knew that he had never
been happier in his life.  He had just finished such an intensely personal
act with the boy, and now as the boy lay in his arms, almost out of it,
Chris felt an overpowering need to bathe the boy in kisses.  Seeing that
the boy was just about aware of his surroundings, and alarmed at the
strange look on the boy's face, Chris began to kiss the boy over his face
and upper chest, muttering his love for Phil in-between his kisses.

	Chris held his new friend for another twenty minutes or so, then
noticing that it was well past six o'clock, he cajoled Phil into some
clothes.  After leaving a note for Phil's mother in case she should come
home early, the two went off for dinner at one of the better pizza places
in town.  After dinner, they headed off to Chris' house for snuggling and a
video from Blockbuster.

Over the remainder of the summer, Chris was able to duplicate his feat with
Phil many times, to both his own and Phil's great happiness in addition to
helping Phil with is swimming and a bit of weight lifting.  Phil even
managed to work up the courage to give his friend a few suck jobs, but by
and large, he was really content to let his friend play on HIS body.  He
just loved the way that Chris made him feel.  Before leaving to return to
Georgia, the two made plans for the next holiday that Phil would be back in
town.  Both were looking forward to it with great enthusiasm.


July 1999

marrauder390@hotmail.com