Date: 11 May 2000 09:55:19 -0700
From: poondu@members.gayweb.com
Subject: On Colin Becoming

            On Colin Becoming -- From Nine to Fourteen

The gossip of boys is largely fiction, anyway: they enjoyed each
other's lies.               --Guy Davenport

Along this Way, with my Self so entwined with my fantasy, its hard to
know which events are truth and which fiction; they are all truths in
my heart and it has been said before in my writing: If it didn't
really happen this way then it should have.


               by Thole <poondu@members.gayweb.com>

                  For Ben, who got away in time.


We returned to his home after the Fifty Miler to a family cookout.
The boy was bushed and dirty after two weeks in the woods, I was too.
But not too tired to pack away several burgers each and a beer for
me. The boy had a few sips. He was thirteen. It was a hot lazy summer
evening and as much as I was tired of sleeping on the ground I easily
could have again. My old van was gassed and ready to travel, I would
most likely head south, home; with a few days to go before work
started, I needed the time to clean out my pack and get ready to
welcome the new kids coming up from Cubs.

The old man saw how tired his son was and spoke to him the way you
might speak to a boy six years younger; maybe that was part of the
strange bond between the boy and I. I treated him more like my peer;
or perhaps I thought of myself more like his peer.

--Colin, Daddy wants you to take a bath now and get your "jammas" on,
you've had a hard day and I can see you need your sleep.

The boy's mother sat at the table gossiping with the neighbors,
cigarette waving in the air as she spoke.

Colin looked at me and rolled his eyes. For the past two weeks he had
been one of the co-leaders of a group of fourteen Scouts, making
decisions that affected the performance and well being of his patrol,
adding his voice and feelings to the direction of the larger body;
now he was being told it was time for bed.

He spoke quietly to me, --Do you think you will be able to stay,
Nigel?

I had taken occasional meals with the family since before the boy
became a Scout; the first time we returned late from a trip I slept
on the couch. Later, back from a winter ski just ahead of the
snowstorm, Missus offered me the boy's bed. --Then you can drive
south in the daylight, after the road's been plowed, she'd said. She
knew what a hassle driving in the snow would be and how much the plow
operators wished everyone would stay home while they worked. The old
man drove one of those big wing plows. --Colin won't mind sleeping on
the floor, she went on, he likes to have you stay and tell him
stories. Just remember it's a school night.

But now, on this bright warm late summer evening I lay on the grass
amidst a family group where I fit like an older brother or an uncle
more than a Scout Leader, I said to the boy on his hands and knees
beside me, --You know me, I'm like a vampire, I have to be invited by
the head of the house.

I patted the boy on the inside of his thigh and let my hand follow
the taper of his leg as he stood.

--I'll leave the tub for you, he said.

I tried not to watch as he interrupted his mother's monologue on the
way to the house. I got another beer and went to sit with the old
man. Like most boys Colin would say very little in the coming days
and weeks about his trip, their families would wait for the
Newsletter to read about it, wait until Parent's Night to see the
slides. Ermma Bombeck wrote about the phenomena in "Where Did You Go?
Out. What Did You Do? Nothing." But this was for me a special family,
I would tell the story of our trip and when the slides came back I
would show them here first. After removing all the ones of nude boys
of course.

My beer was near gone and my story near over when Colin appeared in
his jammas toweling his head with one hand and brushing his teeth
with the other. He stood first on one foot then the other in the cold
grass behind his father's chair as I talked, looking for some sign
from me and making faces at parts of my story. A few minutes later he
reappeared to say good night.

--I know your too old to be seen kissing your mother in public but I
haven't had one for two weeks, she said, grabbing around his waist
from her chair. --I'll close my eyes if it'll help any, the neighbor
lady said.

--Good night Dad, good night Nigel. He turned and kissed his mother. A
neighbor girl called from where she was by the fire with some other
girl, --Good night Colin.

--Good night Stef. And he was gone.

I began to make ready to commence to leave.

--Nigel, you can stay if you like, the boy's mother said in a break
in the gossip, you know your always welcome and I'm sure Colin won't
mind one more night on a foam pad.

--Well thank you Missus, I said standing from beside the old man, I
wouldn't get to my bed tonight anyhow at the rate I'm going.

I went back to the van and found my toilet kit and clean shorts and
jersey. The Scouts and I had packed light for this hike, except for
the one washing in the middle I had been wearing the same pair of
shorts for the whole time; when I wore anything at all that is.

The tub was barely piss warm and had a scum of boy dirt over the top
but I got in and washed and used the hand shower to rinse. I had
already made my good nights so with towel in hand in case I should
need it along the way, I went up to bed. Colin and I had settled the
question of his having to sleep on the floor that long ago first
night I was invited to use his bed. He was nine back then, or just
turned ten. I told him I did not want to throw him out of his own
bed, it was OK with me if we slept together. It was OK with him too.
--But what about my parents?

I didn't know "what" about his parents; whether they would see me or
I would see them or who it was supposed would be upset about what.
Their rooms were across the hall from one another; you could just
about see from one bed to the other.

--Close your door.

Tonight his door was closed. Inside, a dim beam from the streetlight
through the open east facing window showed me the way through the
litter of boyhood on the floor. His jammas were hung on the bedpost
and a sheet covered him. He was lying on his back, one hand holding
his cock. He wore jammas that first night and I slept beside him
nude. Not a word was spoken about it. I don't actually remember the
first time he slept on his own in his skysuit but he had been for a
while now, at least whenever I was there. His bed was soft and not
well sprung, it was like a hammock, you could not sleep on your
stomach. I slipped in beside him and he murmured something
unintelligible as our sides touched.

I had been two weeks with this boy, fourteen others, and sometimes
another adult. Sometimes skinny dipping in the river at lunch,
sometimes strip poker by the fire until we couldn't stand the bugs.
But aside from a playful slap on the ass or a little wrestling in the
water I had not touched a one of them. I wanted this one now and I
knew he wanted to be had. My heart was beating heavy with mounting
excitement and as my long hair tickled across his tummy he moved his
hand away and spread his legs. I took his softness into my mouth and
let my head rise and fall with his slow breathing as I pushed back
his foreskin with my lips. His little cock swelled on my tongue and I
fingered his balls and tight little ass. I felt his hands in my hair,
pushing my head back and forth, he got bigger and harder, his
breathing deeper. I let him use me as I used him; wondering if he was
still asleep, dreaming about what, afraid to ask.


                              --


The van was old already when it stuck in the snow that day I was
first invited to their home. Colin was eight then, his father, called
Boxcar, was a big man who cooked and waited counter at the diner in
this town that was furthest out on the fortnightly route I drove
while maintaining the telephone central offices and microwave relays
scattered across the mountainous north country. Colin's mother was a
small woman who worked for the forest service, when she worked at all
between bouts of drinking.

My company paid me mileage to drive to and from, between home or
office, and each of the several outlying sites. Most of the time I
chose to drive the circuit in several sets that would take me out for
days at a time, travelling from one to the next, living in the van or
at the relay tower sites; I'd charge the company the mileage that
would have been had I driven to and fro and apply the surplus to on
the road living expenses. One of my favourite places to eat was
Boxcar's Diner. There were always a few locals around more than
willing to share the latest gossip about road conditions and the
weather and the menu was generally to my liking: meatloaf, apple pie,
coffee... Boxcar also made a mean western omelette. And in only one
other town did I know a boy, but that's another storey.

On this particular trip the autumn colours were long past and winter
was way overdue. I'd been in town since early morning, after an even
earlier start on the long drive from home, and spent most of the day
at the town's central office. Now it was dinner at Boxcar's and then
I would drive up the hill to the relay tower for the night. Most of
the chatter along the counter concerned the nor'easter forecast to
sweep across the area that night; on one side of the front we would
get the usual: a little snow, mostly rain, maybe freezing later. On
the other side of the front we would get what would amount to the
first major snowstorm of the season; some were saying several feet of
snow with deep drifting blizzard conditions. I discounted most of the
talk about snow and declined Boxcar's advice to stay in town that
night. The gravel road to the hilltop microwave site north of town
was ten miles long, with switchbacks to relieve some of the
steepness, and by the time I let myself into the fenced compound at
the summit the air was thick with blowing snow.

The next morning was dark. Snow, drifting around and over the van,
covered the windows. The sky was overcast and windy, the snow
continued. I could not open any doors and had to exit by the front
right window into snow over my head. My skis and snowshoes were in a
box on the roof-rack along with shovel and tyre chains. But even with
chains there would be no driving out today. I first cleared enough
snow to permit me access to the side door of the van and then cleared
a path to the building. Work first, play later. There was enough food
and water available to hole up for a week if necessary and I didn't
want to ski out while the visibility was so bad. Tomorrow would be
clear and cold no doubt, we must have ended up on the cold side of
the storm after all. Boxcar would not let me live this down.

It wouldn't have made much difference had I driven down anyhow, the
road out of town across the pass was closed for two days. As it was I
worked that day on the various regular maintenance tasks and shoveled
a lot of snow--not that it mattered much, the wind just blew all the
drifts right back again. As expected the next morning dawned cold,
bright, calm, a perfect blue wax day, and I wasted no time making the
best of it. Ten miles down hill and no lift-line at the bottom; it
was like standing on the down escalator except for the last bit where
I had to skate and pole along into town. Boxcar's Place was open and
packed with plow operators and he wasted no time letting me know how
crazy he thought I was. The plow foreman told me it would be the next
day before a truck would be available to start up to my site. I
turned to Boxcar with a repentant look and asked if his invitation to
stay was still open.

Needless to say the kids were out of school and having a grand time
with the sledding and Boxcar's wife, Julep, was at work at the forest
service office. I found Colin on the hill out back of the school and
told him his father had sent me to look after him. We sledded
together until the late afternoon twilight told him it was time to go
home.

--Are you gonna stay with us tonight? he asked, as we dragged
his sled piled with my skis through the snow covered streets.

--Your dad says I have to read you a storey to pay for my supper,
he said he'll be working late with all the plow drivers coming in.

That first night with Colin, telling him a storey as he sat in my lap
by the fire, him dressed only in his underwear, woke some feeling in
me that I'd not felt since my own boyhood sitting in the lap of my
so-called uncle--the guy who was friend of the family and often came
by to help my father with yard chores or just to play with me it
seemed. As the evening went on I wondered if Colin could feel my
erection in the crack of his bum as he rocked in my lap the way I
remembered feeling Uncle Archie's.

Julep had taken the opportunity of having a free sitter to go out to
the bar for the evening, leaving me to wash the supper dishes, which
I'd volunteered to do, and put her son to bed after his storey.

--Mom always complains about how much work she has to do but she
never lets me help, the boy related as I washed and he dried, she
always says when I help she just has more work to do, or that I break
stuff.

--Well Colin, you can help me any time, I said, maybe next summer you
can go on my rounds with me. If you help me then we'll have more time
to play together.

--Yes! that would be great, maybe we could go camping too.

After we were through with the dishes he brought in wood for the fire
and instructed me how to add some to the box stove in the living
room. There was a great overstuffed chair nearby--that was Boxcar's
special place and would be mine for this night. It was also the
storey chair. As each step of the evening progressed the boy
explained it. He would draw a bath for himself, usually his mother
making sure the water was not too hot nor too cold nor too full, and
after that, wearing only his skivvies, he would sit in his father's
lap to be read a storey. After the storey he would go up to his
bedroom and change into pyjamas and then his father would come to
tuck him in and kiss him good night. It was a tall order he'd laid
out for me but one I would delight in and try my best to fulfill.

While he was bathing I looked over their bookshelf and found a copy
of The Hobbit, one of my favourites. Eventually he appeared and we
sat together in the big chair. An eight year-old in your lap is quite
a load, I am not as big as his father, but we managed. I had removed
my outer clothing and was now dressed in long johns and a wool jumper,
sitting tailor style when the lad climbed in and made himself
comfortable in the circle of my legs. I started the reading and
handed the book to him after a few pages. While he read I petted his
legs and played with his shoulders just enough to keep him on the
edge of giggling. When it was my turn again to read he began rocking,
holding my knees to provide leverage, but eventually laying back
quietly and finally sleeping with his head on my shoulder.

It was only with a bit of difficulty that I was able to get my legs
out from under him without waking the boy. I carried him to his bed
and removed his briefs and jersey, but there I stopped. I slept nude,
he should learn to also, especially if we are going to travel and
camp together next summer. Golden ringlets framed his angelic face,
his chest and torso well proportioned, his arms just the right length
to grasp the toy growing between slender legs. He lacked a bit of tan
but I thought we could build on what he had next spring. I knelt
beside his bed and kissed his forehead. Then I kissed his lips and
his navel and the end of his little cock as it stood there as if on
guard above his tiny balls. He stirred slightly and rolled over so I
kissed each cheek before covering him with his sheet and down
comforter. Back down stairs I put another few logs on the fire and
then stripped and rolled my self in the sheet and blanket Julep had
set out for me. I was making coffee in the morning when Colin came
down dressed in his pyjamas and asked me if I had put him to bed
with nothing on. --It was fun, he said, sleeping naked, all slippery
between the sheets.


                              --


But his joy was not to last. I learned much later that he was spanked
on his bare bottom when his mother found him sleeping nude. She
became suspicious when she did not see his pyjamas in the laundry
after several weeks. Instead of just calling him from the kitchen one
school morning she went into his room and forced him from his bed and
shamed him and spanked him so he went back to wearing jammas. But
then that too was not to last. When he did finally tell me the storey
I suggested he go back to sleeping nude and just kick his jammas
around the floor and put them in the laundry once a week.

--If you get another spanking count it as the cost of the pleasure of
sleeping nude; but in no case should you be ashamed of your beautiful
body nor must you put me in the middle for then your mother would
forbid you to see me.

Such are the subterfuges with which we deceive our parents and
corrupt our youth. Such is the cost of choice.


                                 --


For the boy's spring break I arranged with Boxcar to take the lad for
a week to the beach way south where summer was just around the corner
and the dunes were warm and wild enough to run all day naked in the
sand. I had spent a day on my previous circuit working with Colin to
get his bike in shape from a winter buried behind snow shovels and
skis. Now we were riding in shorts and sneakers along bike paths
between our campsite at the beach and the nearby town; in the other
direction were the big dunes and a mile beyond a coast guard
lighthouse perched on an escarpment above the sea. The boy's skin was
pale from a winter in the north and his golden hair had darkened. At
the end of this day of riding I would rub his tender young body with
lotion to ease this first day's sunburn.

We were camped in the last site at the end of the camp road. Our tent
set at the back of that site and the van catty-cornered into the site
so we could have good access to the side doors and so that it would
block anyone's view into our special space. I had used this site for
many years and sometimes was able to spend several days at a time
never dressing but to don a robe or towel to visit the showers.

When we returned from our first day of bike riding I rubbed Colin's
shoulders and legs with an aloe vera skin lotion but he was reluctant
to remove his shorts that first night and that was when we talked
about what happened after he'd been caught sleeping nude. This was
not the first time I'd counseled a boy to deceive his parents, it
happens sooner or later for all of us that one thing or another
undermines our faith in our parents, and I believe its best done
sooner when the authority is so clearly irrational and especially
when the results so pleasurable. Colin understood his mother's need
to control him and accepted my plan to trick her.

The second morning the tent was warm when we woke and I put on only a
long singlet to get across to the showers. Even though there was
nobody else in this end of the camp and I expected we would have the
showers all to ourselves the management was not supportive of a
naturist lifestyle and so it would not do to be seen cavorting about
with a naked boy in tow. Colin's singlet would not cover him the way
mine covered me.

--Do you have a longer singlet I can borrow, he asked, so I don't
need to wear my shorts?

As a matter of fact I had several.

--This is brand new! he exclaimed, and my favourite blue colour. How
did you know?

That particular blue was my favourite colour too I told him, and I'd
been watching to see what colours he chose and which set off his
golden curls to best advantage. When we returned to our camp I
removed my singlet and he followed as we prepared breky and talked
about going to the dunes. But after a few moments he said he was
cold. Put your jersey on then I told him, that's what you have it
for. Just try to remember that clothing is mostly to keep you warm or
to protect you when you are doing something that might hurt your
skin, but at the same time remember that clothing should not be
something you need to hide behind. You are beautiful and should be
free to run around nude and let your self enjoy life with out the
restriction of clothing whenever you can.

--So what should I do? he asked, What would you do?

--If I was cold I'd put on a singlet or a jumper, and then later when
I was warm I'd be quick to take it off again. I think you'll find if
you just keep your shoulders warm the rest of you will be happy. I
really enjoy watching you be nude; I think if you stay that way and
think about other things you'll get use to it pretty fast.

I went on to explain that he could always go stand in the sun for a
few minutes or come to me and I would give him a hug and warm him up.
It was still before mid-morning when we set out on foot along a path
from our site towards the beach and the dunes; we carried one small
pack of lunch things, two kites, and that was it.

--What if somebody sees us?

--Nobody will. We will be invisible to anyone with clothes on. We may
see some others without clothes however since this is a popular place
with naturists at this time of year.

--What's a naturist?

--Someone who likes to live nude as much as possible. Especially to
play naked like we are.

--What if we see someone with clothes on?

--Then we will hide in the trees or up in the dunes.

And so it went. We had a delightful day on the beach, playing tag
with the icy surf, basking in the sun on the top of the dunes where
we flew our kites and enjoyed our lunch. We wrestled in the sand and
took turns to bury each other in the warm sand. On one dune with a
steep southerly face we ran and jumped from the lip to fly far down
and land and roll. Colin hit a place where sand had drifted over a
pocket of late snow and insulated it from the thawing of the spring
sun. It was quite a surprise to his hot, naked, self to find a foot
of cold snow under the veneer of warm sand.

Back at camp later in the afternoon I let the boy have a few sips of
my wine as we cooked supper and ate together still wearing naught but
our skysuits. In the tent he tried valiantly to suppress his giggles
as I rubbed his lean frame with lotion and brushed my fingers across
sensitive places for him to discover new feelings. I stroked and
caressed and kneaded him and finally suggested it was my turn, for
him to do all the same for me before he fell asleep. He was
straddling my thighs innocently stroking me with lotion covered hands
when I told him to wipe his hands on my belly and then pulled him
down to me. I cupped his nates and slid him up and down to climax the
orgasm he'd been building in me and then we both slept. Sometime
later he woke and pulled his sleeping bag over both of us.

The third day and the fourth day were variations on the theme. We
visited the lighthouse at one end of the beach and the shops at the
other and spent as much time as we could naked on the sand between.
By the time we left to return to his cold north home the boy had a
good start on an all-over tan and knew the rudiments of hand jobs tho
he had yet to comprehend their purpose or outcome.


                                --


That summer we went camping off a forest highway where there was a
large fireplace, all that remained of a colonial farmhouse. The
hearth of this structure was eight feet wide, of the grate fully four
feet remained. Once a suckling pig could have been roasted here but
this evening we built a small fire and sat inside the alcove of the
fireplace. Another man, Ben, and his boy, Tad, met us there. Tad was
two years older than Colin's nine and I had long envied Ben's
connexion with the kids in his neighborhood. He taught swimming and
coached a competitive team; I often visited his home with the big
heated pool where the boys swam naked even in the winter. One or two
comely lads were always about and it was not unusual to be served tea
by a naked youth at Ben's home. We were all here only for a weekend,
meeting as our holidays crossed paths. Colin and I had been hiking
that day--he had started out dressed in shorts and singlet and boots
despite my admonition to wear nothing. I would do this hike without
even boots, barefoot and bare assed, carrying only a cloth to hide
behind should we meet any other hiker along the way. As before Colin
was adamant in his concern that I might be seen, or worse yet, he
might be seen, and most worse, by someone he knew, or another forest
service person who knew his mother. But before we were a mile along
the trail he had come around.

--I think I'm ready to get undressed now.

--But now that you have worn all those clothes this far what will you
do with them?

--I can carry them, he said defiantly, even my boots if I have to.
But we're coming back this way aren't we? How 'bout if I hide my
stuff in the woods?

He stepped off the trail and stripped. I'd not seen such a lovely
sight since his spring break, at the dunes. There were little changes
in his body; some parts were bigger, his hair was longer, his tan
line showed since he'd not been fully nude out of doors since then.
The boy stashed everything but his singlet behind a rock and came
back to stand beside me on the trail. I showed him how to wear his
singlet across his shoulders with the front flipped back over his
head so he could flip it forward to cover himself in an instant. I
showed him how to walk on the balls of his feet, and let his toes
look for twigs that might snap, to listen for the sounds of others
coming towards us, and we went on up the mountain, a boy and a man,
naked but for beads, carrying nothing but our bond to one another.

He was exhilarated at the summit. His first nude climb, and I hoped
not his last. He dressed again when we were back at the van, I guess
I'll get dressed now, he'd said, as if it were the only way to ride
in a car. I wore my usual long singlet at first but donned shorts when
we stopped at a grocery on the way to camp. Now it was after dinner
and night was closing in around us in what use to be an open
farmyard. Tad came over to the fireplace from his chores of helping
Colin clean up the dishes and stood in front of where Ben was sitting
up within the alcove of the hearth. Colin watched from where he was
still busy under the awning of my van with his share of the after
supper task. Perhaps they had been talking together, perhaps he was
just eager to come and sit with me as I was eager to have him. Tad
stood there for a moment and then almost ceremoniously removed his
shorts and singlet and folded them into a small pillow which he
placed between Ben's outstretched legs. Then the naked lad climbed
upon the hearth and sat between those legs and leaned back on Ben's
chest. Ben wrapped his great hairy arms about the lad, who looked up
at him and received the man's kiss. Now it was Colin's turn. He came
over to the fireplace to stand in front of where I sat.

--Should I get undressed like Tad?

--I would like that, and I'm sure Tad would too.

It seemed to take the boy forever to strip off the two items of
clothing: first his shorts, pushing them down with hands on the
waistband, stepping out, first his left foot, then his right. He
folded the shorts in half and laid them on the hearth. Then his
singlet; grasping the hem that hung low to conceal that he wore
nothing below his waist, he drew the jersey upwards with crossed
arms, over his head until it hung from his fine strong hands which
with quick deft movements folded it and added it to his shorts which
he then placed between my legs as Tad had done with Ben. Colin was
shorter than Tad by nearly a head and had not the length of leg that
permitted the older boy to step up onto the hearth. Colin climbed up
first on his hands and knees, and then turned to face Tad before
backing in to sit between my legs. Tad was idly pulling on his
slender cock while Ben, his hands clasped across the lads flat belly
and his head resting back against the arch of the hearth, told a
storey, perhaps slightly exaggerated for the benefit of my young
friend, of a recent camping trip with his boy where they had spent
three days tubing down a nearby river with never a stitch on. I
suspect they may have at least worn loin cloths, or covered them
selves with towels when they passed at mid-day through one town but
Ben asserted that they merely piled a few sticks of firewood in
their crotches and drifted through undetected.

Tad let go of his pretty erection and served us all hot chocolate to
which I added a liberal dose of peppermint schnapps and Colin told a
storey of his first nude hike, old news already to Ben but he did the
boy well by appearing to have heard it only for the first time and
then he went on with a few other anecdotes by way of encouraging
Colin to exploits of greater daring. And all the while my little
friend played with himself as he'd learned from Tad so that he was
excited and hard through most of the evening by the fire. While
having a hard-on was not new to the boy, playing with it while others
admired the spectacle was and it excited him further to see the
hunger in Tad's eyes tho I'm sure he did not fully appreciate what it
meant at that early time.

Presently the cocoa was gone and the storeys ended. Ben gave the
thighs of his catamite a gentle squeeze and the boy climbed out of
the warmth by the fire and went off to brush his teeth. I hinted to
Colin that he should follow along and after accepting Ben's
compliments on the fine specimen of boyhood I'd come up with went off
to do my own toilet. We'd set up no tent for this one night but would
sleep out under the summer stars. The night was still warm as the
fire settled into a bed of glowing coal and when Colin returned we
stood together in the shadows and with the still nude boy backed up
tight against me I pointed out the brighter summer constellations and
showed him how to find north by the stars. He turned to me when I
paused and wrapped his arms around my waist.

--I love you Nigel, he whispered, can we sleep in your sleeping bag
together like Tad is gonna do with Ben?

--I love you my little friend, more than you can know. Its only too bad
you cannot stay a little boy for ever.

--I don't want to be a little boy for ever, I want to be a big boy
soon so I can do the things Tad told me about.

And what sort of things are they I wondered... I climbed into my
sleeping bag and invited Colin to lay on his side in front of me. The
feeling of his soft young nates against my belly as he slid in and
pillowed his head in the crook of my arm brought to fullness the
arousal that had so far been hidden in the shorts I'd worn all
evening. Now, naked as the boy spooned against me, my cock, wet with
anticipation slipped between his thighs for the first time.

--What's that? Its all wet, he whispered as he reached between his
legs and felt my dripping glans poking at his balls.

--Its me. I'm getting hard like you are.

--Is that cos you like me? That's what Tad said. Are you gonna put it
in my bum like Ben does to him?

He asked that last question with a hopeful inflection as if he knew
what it would mean to the both of us. But I could not, not yet. Later
I told him, when he is a little older, when perhaps Tad has shown him
how, has had him first; I was sure I'd hurt him now and did not want
to. But all his questions were not yet satisfied.

--Tad said he's a catamite, Ben's catamite. What's that? Can I be your
catamite? Am I already?

--For a boy who has had a busy day you sure are full of questions. A
catamite is a boy who is a special friend to a man. Such a special
friend that if you want to make it work you cannot tell others that
you are. It is like the matter of you sleeping nude Colin, the less
said the better. If you tell anyone you are my catamite then you
won't be. Most people do not know what that word means and those few
that do will not understand and will not let you see me anymore.

But the boy was asleep now and I wondered how much of what I'd said
was lost on him. I used that little space between his thighs to bring
myself to climax and spread my cum on his balls and belly. I spread
some on his lips and went to sleep holding him tightly to me.


                              --


While I saw him on and off throughout the autumn there was little
opportunity for any lengthy overnight. We did a few day hikes, nude
of course, one of them to a place Ben suggested where there was a
great waterfall, and another to an autumn cookout at the naturist's
camp where Colin had an opportunity to meet a lot of other kids and
families who lived the way he was coming to like more and more. But it
was not until that winter that we had any further tryst.

He was ten now. Beginning to fill out somewhat but still a small boy I
could wrestle with and let win, a boy full of life and expectancy,
bubbling over with joie de vivre, a delight to be with, and
expressing an inordinate desire to please me. I took him shopping for
used skis and arranged for him then to win them as a door prise to
allay any suspicions of his parents and when the early winter snow
was deep and fresh again we went back to the naturists camp for a
long weekend of skiing. But skiing was only an excuse to be alone
with him and while we both enjoyed the grand day in company of others
on the trails, we both, and perhaps Colin more than me, looked
forward to things we would do only with each other.

His first pass was just after we'd come in from skiing. We stripped
down and were making ready for a shower before dinner and he was
standing close by me, one arm around my waist, the other hand on my
belly, his fingers twirling around in my hair.

--Can I make you hard Nigel?

--Now? We're going to the shower, I don't need to be walking down the
hall with a hard-on.

--Just for a minute. Please? he begged?

I was already getting pretty excited just having him so close. I put
one hand on his head, stroked his shoulders so he understood my
approval and his hand ventured to my cock. He pulled on me, lifted,
retracted my foreskin, stroked me several times until my cock had
lifted up and was rigid and pulsing. I wanted him now to finish what
he'd started, I had visions of him on his knees in front of me, my
erection filling his mouth. And he stopped. His fingers caressed my
balls, lifting, squeezing, fondling; his fingers selected one hair and
pulled it sharply out.

--Ouch! I yelled. You little cocksucker!

--Not yet, he smiled up at me, maybe after you shave so I won't get
all that hair in my teeth.

We went off to the showers and shared one. I'll wash your back if
you'll wash mine, he said, and I could see that he had learnt a few
more things from Tad, or perhaps was inventing them on his own. I
washed him first, from hair to toes, front and back, but when it came
his turn to wash my hair he could not reach that high. Sit down on
the floor he said; no, I said, let me have you sit on my shoulders.

I picked him up under his arms and swung him out; he lifted his legs
across my shoulders and brought his feet around under my arms where I
could grab them and steady him. His crotch was pressed into my face,
his hands holding my head and beginning to lather my hair. I felt his
cock with my lips and opened my mouth to let him in. His hardness
filled me up and as I tongued him in step with his washing my hair
his hips and hands began to carry on a rhythm with a life of its own.
Then he stopped scrubbing me, I felt him bend over my head, arms
wrapped around, clutching, pulling himself into my face, he was out
of control. Something was happening to him he did not understand but
at the same time could not help but enjoy. His legs wrapped tighter,
he hugged my head and I felt the shudder of his dry orgasm and heard
him moan and then giggle as the rush passed. He let go and slid down
in front of me, our soapy slippery bodies, for a moment joined as one
in his first orgasm.

--What was that? Did you put my whizzle in your mouth?

--Wait a moment lad. The question should be: Did you put your whizzle
in my mouth.

--Did you really suck me? Tad said you would someday. Did I pee in
your mouth?


                                 --


In February of that winter he had a week off from school and it was
all too easy to convince his mother to let me take him for the whole
time. I took a week off and we went back to the naturist resort to
ski and play in the snow. Ben and Tad were there but we were not able
to share a room the way we'd have liked to. Instead Tad and Colin
shared some time with each other but I didn't find out about that
until later. We all had a good first day of skiing and remember, this
is primarily a naturist camp so even in the winter few folks wear
clothing. The main idea is to wear what it takes to be warm and
comfortable, no more, no oftener. The skiers wore a snowsuit made of
a kind of breathable stretchable rubber-like material, very thin but
providing great warmth and flexibility, tough and slippery--sort of a
second skin that could be easily slipped on and off. All the
buildings were connected through their basement levels and heated by
geothermal springs so the whole place was well suited for a suit-less
lifestyle. Some of the more daring members enjoyed skiing naked down
one particular trail right into a hot mineral spring.

Our second day, like the first, was grand. Running about the hills
and trails all day and soaking in the hot pools and reading and
napping by the fire. Late in the evening I carried Colin's limp body
off to his bed in the room we shared with several other folks; when
that kid slept after a hard day it was more work to wake him than it
was to carry him. I tucked him in and kissed him good night and
longed to get into the bed with him but... who can say how the others
in the room might feel about that. The next morning we were off to a
late start and towards the end of our breky with the second sitting
some of those who had been up and out with the first sitting returned
to muster a rescue team.

There had been an accident on a steep section of trail where a boy of
fifteen years had lost control and attempted to stop by the means of
using his ski poles for a brake where one places the poles between
one's legs and then sits on them, dragging the baskets and slowing
descent. But something went horribly wrong; whether the poles bent or
broke or he sat too far back and slid off was not clear from the
frenzied descriptions. When his friends responded to his cries for
help they found him laying on his back unable to move and whilst
removing his skis and wrapping him in a rescue blanket they found he
was impaled on a root of some sort. Apparently as he slid down the
trail his ass broke through the ski track and dug into the soft snow
beneath. The root looked like it had made a clean entrance, well
centered, and there was no blood to indicate his nates had been
punctured. Despite the youth's discomfort and awkward position there
was little pain, only a certain numbness--he said it felt like he was
being buggered by a tree.

We were well equipped for such contingencies; Ben and I were trained
in search and rescue operations and there was manpower enough to
litter the boy out; the unique thing would be sawing off the root so
we would not have to extract it in the field. If it had caused any
internal puncture then removing it could be fatal. We told Colin and
Tad to amuse themselves for the duration, they would be of little
help on this rescue, so they went off to the pool while the litter
party set out and an ambulance was called for.

All's well that ends well and I'll not go into the details here. The
boy survived quite nicely; what lubricant remained in his rectum from
previous nocturnal activities certainly facilitated entry of the
root. Anal endoscopic inspection revealed no damage, nothing a good
enema would not fix and the lad was none the worse for the wear. He
had been indeed very cleanly buggered by a tree.

In the meantime Tad and Colin took advantage of their time alone to
explore. Tad knew his way around the camp, where all the little
hidey-holes were, and so most of his explorations were of Colin's
supple body and naivete. Tad knew of a place where there were stored
a lot of mattresses in a loft above the library; he brought with him
a little sack when they climbed the spiral stairway and crawled
through a small door in the wall into the attic. Tad placed one
mattress against the big door at the far end so nobody could open it
suddenly and he directed Colin to place another against the small
door, to muffle the sounds of their playing. What are we gonna do?,
Colin asked.

They had no need to undress and the older boy got right down to
business. A snow covered skylight provided a greyish illumination as
the two boys stood facing each other on their knees in a pile of
mattresses; Tad held Colin, petted him, explored the boy like he'd
not been explored since by his mother when he was first born. Tad had
been here once before with another boy when he was the acolyte; now
it was his self-appointed task to pass on this arcanum as well as to
try things on someone else he'd only had done to him as Ben's
catamite. He kissed Colin, nibbled his ears, nipples. Colin let his
hands begin to explore the youth, his mentor, as Tad said he should.
He let himself go, giggling, kissing, touching places he'd never
touched on anyone else ever before.

Presently, in the dim dry heat close under the log rafters Colin and
Tad lay together, the acolyte learning quickly at the feet of his
special friend ways to please his man. Has Nigel sucked you yet?
Tad asked as his nose sparred with Colin's pecker.

--Once in the shower he sat me on his shoulders, and a few times he
has in bed or when we're out hiking. I get all tingly and shaky and
vibrate all over when he does it to me. Sometimes I get all like that
when he just touches me with his fingers.

--Have you sucked him? Has he done it in your bum?

--No and No, Colin giggled, I told him I would suck him when he
shaved; I didn't want to get all his hair in my teeth. And one time I
asked him, when we were camping with you and Ben at that big
fireplace, if he was gonna put his whizzle in my bum and he said not
until I was older and you had had me first.

--Nigel honours me by letting me have you first, Tad whispered, Ben
only likes to fuck my bum but he won't let me do it to him. He lets
me suck him but he won't suck me, only he does it to me with his hand
or I do myself whilst he watches. He likes that.

Ben was a hairy man, hairy all over, thick mats of curly auburn.
Colin thought he looked like a Teddy bear. Ben often told the boys in
his swimming classes that he was hairy like that cos he use to shave
off all his body hair--all of it he would emphasize--when he was
doing competition swimming in college; smooth skin is worth a few
seconds in a close race he told them. Ben was very hairy but he liked
his boys to be very smooth.

What's the razor for Tad? Colin asked as the youth dumped the sack
out on the mattress next to theirs, you don't have to shave yet, eh?

Tad picked up the disposable razor and removed the blade cover. --Not
on my face yet anyhow but I am getting a few hairs in my crotch and I
know how Ben likes me smooth and hairless. He said once that he would
rather die than have me grow up. I guess he loves me a lot, and I
love him too, but I don't think he'll die just cos I grow up. He'll
just dump me for another boy; I know I'm not his first boy.

Colin didn't know if he was Nigel's first boy, he didn't even know if
he was Nigel's only boy at that time. And he wasn't really sure about
the love part. He knew he really liked being with Nigel and all the
things they did together. Now he was thinking of all the new things
they would do together when Tad handed him the razor. --Do you know
how to use one of these?

--Well, I guess, I never really tried, Colin allowed, I watched my
dad shave lots of times and once he put lather on my face and let me
shave it off myself but there really wasn't any hair there, it was
just kind of make believe.

--Well just try it a bit on your arm, just to get the feel of it.
Hold it like this, he demonstrated, to get the angle right.

Colin shaved a bit of the fuzz from his arm and then Tad stretched
the boy's cock out and down and ran his fingers, as if they were a
razor, over the boy's pubes.

--Now I want you to do this to me, shave from the tip of my cock up
to here, three or four swipes, just like you did to your arm. Go
easy, if you press too hard you can make a rash from the irritation.

Colin pulled down on the youths foreskin, the cock stiffened and
quivered, twitched with mounting excitement. --What if I slip and cut
it?

--Then you'll just have to suck up all the blood.

Colin made the requisite four swipes with the razor, pulling the
youth's cock this way and that as he did; then he set down the razor
and moved his head close to inspect his handiwork. He used his cheek
against Tad's pubes to feel the smoothness and from there it seemed
perfectly natural to lick the area. Soon he had the long erection in
his mouth while his fingers seemed to take on a life of their own
massaging balls and stroking cock. Tad moaned his appreciation and
came quickly, exploding cum into the boy's mouth. Colin jerked back
in surprise and the second wave hit him square in the face as he
crouched there staring in wonder at this pubescent miracle. He turned
to face Tad, cum dripping from his face, and the youth's third and
fourth volleys hit him on his own face and chest. Both boys were in
fits of giggling now as Tad continued to moan his appreciation and
Colin exclaim his wonderment.

--Wow! Will I be able to do that when I'm your age?

--Man that was the best orgasm I've had ever!

--What will Nigel taste like when I suck him? Colin asked as wiped
the cum from his face and licked it from his fingers.

--Do you like chocolate Colin? Tad asked as he peeled away the foil
wrap from a bar of fine Swiss milk chocolate bar.

--Yes! exclaimed Colin as he extricated his hand from between Tad's
legs and held it out. But the chocolate was not for Colin's mouth,
not yet anyhow. Tad positioned the boy on his knees, head down, bum
up, and using some of the cum still dripping from his chest for
lubricant quickly pushed three squares into the boys bum. Three more
squares melted in his hand he spread along the boy's perineum, balls,
and cock. --Now I'll show you something I'm sure you never though of,
Tad said as he wiped his hands on the upended nates and then began to
lick and nibble his way toward the chocolate treat waiting in the
neophyte's bunghole.

--Nigel showed me a picture in a book he has, Colin explained between
giggles as he felt Tad's tongue caress his perineum and poke at his
hole, where this naked boy is laying on a table and there is all
sorts of fruits and cakes piled all over him and a bunch of other boys
with clothes on standing around picking at it.

By now Tad had his tongue in the boy's ass and was licking and
sucking out the chocolate syrup. He rolled Colin over and continued
to suck and lick the boy's balls and cock as Colin fell silent and
let himself enjoy the excitement building within his body. Grunts and
moans escaped his mouth as his young flesh spasmed again and again in
response to the ministrations of Tad's mouth and fingers. By the time
of Tad's entry it was no surprise to him that it would happen and his
dry orgasms built up wave upon wave between the stimulation of Tad's
cock in his ass and Tad's hands and mouth on his cock. Finally the
youth's cum mixed with the chocolate and he pulled out leaving Colin
in a heap of exhaustion, his lithe young body spotted with chocolate
and cum and his special friend laying atop him.


                                 --


Now Colin is eleven. He and Nigel have returned for another time
skiing at this delightful nude resort. There are several other boys
Colin's age there this week and from time to time he is off skiing
and playing with them, or they with us, as Nigel relates, but much of
our visit here is spent sitting together in the hot springs talking
about the hikes and things we have done together since last winter.
We are sharing a big bunk room with two other families, this is a
crowded school holiday week, so we have a good excuse to masquerade
as uncle and nephew. Colin is comfortable with that and it gives us
every reason to share a bed tho we can do little else.

In the hot tub we can talk about last years trips. In the secret
place above the library we can play. We've not seen Ben and Tad since
the ski trip where that boy was buggered by a tree--now that Colin
knows what that means it is his favourite joke. --Just imagine, he
will come out with at the strangest times, getting buggered by a
tree, of all things. Tad taught him how to suck and shave and gave
him a taste of buggering. We have not done that yet. He will nibble
the end of my cock, kiss it and lick it. He likes to smear a few
squares of milk chocolate on me, he's very particular about a certain
brand of Swiss chocolate, and then lick me clean, but he's yet to
suck me off. He likes to lay beside me after the licking with his
head on my stomach and bring me off by hand so my cum splashes in his
face or he will spoon in front of me and let me cum between his
thighs while pulling him to one dry orgasm after another. We have had
a delightful summer.

--Let's try something different, he suggests this time as we sit
cross legged on the mattresses in the storage loft. Our knees and
foreheads touch as we play with each others erections. --Tad told me
about this, he said. --Ben would tie him up and blindfold him and
tickle him until he wet himself. Maybe you'd have to gag me too
here, he winked and smiled, so I wouldn't disturb anybody reading
in the library.

He'd been planning this and had a few lengths of cord for me to
spread-eagle him on the mattress. His new Boy Scout scarf was pressed
into service as the blindfold and an old sock I stuffed into his
mouth for the gag.

--Now what? Should I just leave you here? His head came up off the
mattress and shook side to side as his blinded eyes cast about. I
began to caress him at the soles of his feet and worked slowly up
along his legs. Then I'd stop and kiss the end of his erection or
blow in his ear or lick the inside of his crotch or belly button. As
time went on my tickling became more vigorous and his writhing about
was a sight to behold. I would stroke the tip of his glans, first dry
and then wet, as he struggled to hold in the pee, and then I would
bring him to the edge of orgasm and beyond before returning to the
tickling. Finally I forced him to pee by playing long enough with his
swollen glans and directed the stream onto the sock in his mouth.

--What a rush! he exclaimed, when I finally let him up, that's the
first time I ever tasted my own pee.

I declined his offer to do as much for me; I was excited about the
whole idea but it would wait until another time. That night, while I
waited for him in the top bunk he was down below sharing back rubs
with the several other boys. Once I could hear the wet sounds of
sucking but made no move to see who was getting it. Presently he slid
into the sleeping bag and reached between his legs to position my
erection where he knew I wanted to be. I blew in his ear and kissed
him.

--I love you Colin.

--I love you Nigel.

When Nigel took the boy home at the end of this week of fun in the
snow it was to one of those times he was invited to stay over. After
Colin was in bed Boxcar and Julep sat with Nigel by the fire and told
him how thankful they were that he was taking such an interest in
their son; the boy would never have such opportunities for travel and
adventure in their small town and they wanted Nigel to know how much
they appreciated his involvement. Their relationship was doing the
boy good but now there was a new problem. Colin had joined the Scouts
and they wanted to know how that might affect his relationship with
the boy. Sometimes Colin would be camping with the Scouts when Nigel
came to take him on a trip and they wanted to be sure as much as they
could to avoid any conflicts. What they really meant was that if ever
the occasion arose that Colin needed a "Dad" to camp with him would
Nigel be available? Boxcar was neither the camping type nor would he
be comfortable closing his diner for a night in the woods.

Nigel went to bed musing that Colin's parents had not an inkling of
the degree of involvement he had with their son, not the faintest
idea how much they meant to each other, this man and that boy.


                                --


The boy's room was cold and Nigel welcomed the warm body in the bed
to snuggle with. His cold fingers played upon the boy's chest and the
lad spread his legs to invite them lower. Cold fingers are especially
stimulating to young cock and Nigel repeatedly brought the boy near
to the edge of orgasm before he finally put his head under blankets
and let Colin push it into position for a coupling they both desired.
Nigel used his tongue on the lads glans whilst for the first time he
used a finger to explore the tight little hole he knew was no longer
completely virgin. Colin alternately moaned and whimpered as the
finger pressed his magic button and the tongue rasped his glans. He
couldn't cum yet but his orgasms went on and on, shaking his young
frame with one spasm after another. His hands were buried in the mans
hair, pushing and pulling, using Nigel's mouth to excite him, just as
Tad had taught. Finally the boy was exhausted and when Nigel
continued to stimulate the erection that never softened pee gushed
forth to fill his mouth. He swallowed some and tried to pull away but
Nigel had raised his legs and was holding his head, pressing it
firmly against them. The man was delightfully trapped; all he could
do was swallow.

When he was finally allowed to come up for air he told Colin of his
parent's discussion, how happy they were that Nigel was their son's
friend, their concern about Scouts and the veiled request that Nigel
stand in for Boxcar any time Colin had need of a camping dad. But
there would be other complications with that. They would have to be
all the more careful on such trips; but even that could have hidden
rewards--perhaps Colin would find other boys who would hike nude with
them next summer. The lad was asleep when Nigel rolled him on top of
himself and, holding the boy's sweet nates while he thought how much
Tad must have enjoyed licking them clean of chocolate, he came
between them.

The following summer Colin divided his time between camping with the
Scouts and hiking with Nigel. He enjoyed both but Nigel missed the
boy dearly when his work kept him from joining Colin at camp. At the
few camps where he did participate it was sensory overload--the sheer
magic of boys skinny dipping, showering together, listening outside
their tents at night--all brought him an agony of excitement that he
tried to save up for when he and Colin could be alone together.

Towards the end of the summer Nigel took Colin for a fortnight of
making the rounds of all the microwave towers across the northern
mountains. Most days followed the same pattern. They would get off to
a late start and drive a couple hundred miles, with time off for
lunch and perhaps a bit of skinny dipping or a soak in a hot spring,
arriving at the next site late afternoon. Some of these sites could
be driven to while others involved a walk of a mile or two. Always
nude of course. In fact Colin spent most of the entire fortnight
without clothes.

The boy was more aggressive in his demands for sexual satisfaction
now. Nigel had all he could handle to keep his attention on the road
with a nude boy playing with himself in the front seat next to him.
When they were walking to and from the sites Colin would take every
opportunity to hold Nigel's cock and keep the man erect and on edge.
At night they would 69 in the back of the van and the lad would toy
with the man's cock, licking, kissing the glans, but not sucking. The
matter of shaving had not come up yet. Sometimes he would bring the
man off with his hand while watching from close up so the cum would
splash in his face then on other occasions, usually in the morning,
Colin would lay atop Nigel, their cocks together, slide up and down
to bring them both off in a fit of childish ecstasy and adult cum.

The fortnight was soon over and with it the summer. Colin returned to
school and Scouts and Nigel returned to driving his circuit alone. He
saw little of Colin but for the occasional weekend. When his visits
to that town coincided with an activity of the boy's Scout group he
would camp with them and suffer the dual agony of more boys than he
knew what to do with and the untouchable aspect of all of them,
especially Colin. But on those times he could sleep with Colin the
boy would ravish himself upon the man, bringing himself to one orgasm
after another, with or without Nigel's assistance, until he was
exhausted and lay in a tired heap for the man to cum between his
thighs.


                                 --


Now it is winter again and he is twelve, his first cum is in my
mouth, it all went by so fast. His first cum, it was a grand
experience for both of us. It was the week after New Year's and I was
snowed in again, just like that first time, except that now I didn't
need to wait for Boxcar's invitation to stay over, nor for the boy's
mother to invite me to share the comely lad's bed. He told me as we
lay under his thick down quilt, petting and stroking each other as
we'd become accustomed, that he had a big surprise for me. Usually I
would pet and tickle him, stroke him to multiple orgasms whilst he
strained against crying out and muffled his moans and whimpers by
holding a pillow over his head. Finally he would signal me to stop
and then bring me off with little nibbles and licks, stroking me
until I would cum in his face, or he would just fall asleep and I
would roll him over do my thing between his legs. I wanted him to
suck me, I wanted to fuck his sweet behind. He'd let me put honey and
chocolate in his ass and suck it out and once he smeared chocolate on
my cock and licked it off but that was as far as we'd gone.

As had become their habit they went to the nudist ski lodge for
Colin's winter school holiday. At the end of the first day of skiing
they sat with several other folks for an hour in the hot spring.
Colin would get tired of Nigel's chatter with the other adults and go
off to another pool to splash and wrestle with some boys his own age.
The boys alternated rolls in the snow with soaks and then Colin would
return to sit close to Nigel with one hand in the man's crotch. His
ministrations were distracting to say the least. Nigel could see he
was not the only adult male fascinated by the flock of young boys
sporting about with their cocks first tumescent from their play in
the pools and then shrunken from rolling in the nearby snow drifts.
Eventually Nigel ran out of idle talk and Colin became insistent
enough for his attention that he took his hand and led him from the
pool.

When shortly after they climbed the spiral stairway into the loft
Colin brought along a small sack. Inside the mattresses were not as
they had left them but the place was still well stocked, clean and
fresh smelling, with a dim afternoon glow filtering through the
skylight. Colin arranged the mattresses as Tad had showed him and
then pulled his man friend down on the mattress beside him. --Its
time, the boy said.

--Time for what? the man asked, with a voice as innocent as he could
muster.

--I want to shave you and suck you off, all the way off, so you cum in
my mouth.

As Colin spoke he reached into the bag and retrieved a disposable
razor.

--You know how to do this?

--Ya. Tad showed me.

--He's got hair?

--Enough for me to practice with. And I been practicing on my arms
and legs too.

Nigel wanted so much to have the boy suck him off, to cum in his
mouth, that he was almost ready to go along with the shaving but
thought he'd see just how much Colin wanted.

--Are you sure you really want me to cum in your mouth?

--Yup. Really sure. And I want you to cum in my bum too. I'm a lot
bigger now and I been practicing with a piece of broom stick.

That set Nigel aback. The kid has been planning this, he thought, and
he wondered what else he had in mind for them to do this week but
that was all the boy would say. Nigel laid on his back and let the
youth have his way. He was light skinned and light haired as well on
his arms and legs but his pubes were darker. Nigel had done some
casual research on how far away one can see that another person is
nude and came to the conclusion that the dark splotch of pubic hair
was a dead give away easily up to half a mile. A nude boy could just
possibly be wearing tan shorts but a nude man was unmistakable and
he'd often thought of shaving his pubic and chest hair just for that
small advantage when out hiking. Now it was going to happen despite
his concern for what others at this sort of place might think about
his appearance. But then, he wouldn't be the only shaved adult.

Colin tied a leather thong around the man's foreskin and stretched it
up to a conduit overhead. Nigel was still soft when he did that but
quickly began to harden as the boy brought out scissors and commenced
to clip away the hair Nigel was once so anxious to have when he was
this boy's age and so proud of when it first came in. At first he
tried to watch. He was anxious of the clip-clip and the occasional
feel of the cold steel against his imprisoned cock. Colin squatted
across the man's chest as he worked and Nigel tried to assuage his
anxiety by caressing the rounded nates presented to him but quickly
gave up that idea as the boy's wriggling only made matters worse.
Finally he put his hands behind his head and dozed.

The razor scraping down his cock and up his pubes brought him around.
Its a good thing Colin was still straddling his chest. Scrape,
scrape, scrape. Colin would tap the razor against the floor and blow
the hairs out and then scrape some more. Once he started it was easy
to keep going and tho he'd planned only to denude the main shaft he
soon all the way up to the man's naval. Now he took down the thong
and gave it to Nigel to hold as he moved himself to straddle the
man's legs. --Hold it careful, this next part is the hardest, he said
as he carefully lifted the man's scrotum.

Presently the action area of this man was as hairless as the boy he
wanted to bugger. Colin removed the thong and the accumulated precum
ran out over his hands and down the shaft that stood glistening in
the dim light. He spread the precum over the newly shaved skin as if
it were some feral after-shave lotion. Nigel continued to lay still
and watch, not wanting to break the spell and interrupt the boy.
Colin looked at him once and said he'd been waiting a long time for
this as he brought his lips to the man's cock and in one motion slid
back the foreskin and took the glans into his young mouth. Colin's
head bobbed up and down, taking more and more of the shaft, as his
hands stroked. Then, still sucking and bobbing, he crawled around to
straddle Nigel's chest and present his ass to be licked and caressed.
Nigel began to lick the boy and his hips began a motion of their own.
Colin was now doing pushups matching Nigel's thrusts. Nigel whispered
along his tongue into the asshole he was licking: --I'm coming-I'm
coming... as he pressed his hands into the small of the boy's back
and let loose the best orgasm he'd had in years.

But now that it was his turn it was time for dinner and so they
elected to eat food instead of each other and get back to the sex
later. On the way to their room Colin announced that this day was the
anniversary of the Boy Scouts and let on that he was thinking of
rewriting the requirements in Scouting For Boys. --I've been thinking
I could have the ranks be Tendercock, Secondsuck, Firstfuck. One of
the proficiency badges would be Cocksucking; I bet there'll be no
shortage of counselors for that badge.

 They were still chuckling over that when the man who'd given Nigel a
wink earlier at the hot pool passed by and commented on his being
freshly shaven. Nigel replied that he was just dressing for dinner
and Colin blushed. The man nodded slightly at Colin and said
wistfully: --Some kids like it that way. When he was gone Colin
jumped up on a passing rock and looked Nigel level in the eyes: --Do
you think he knows what we were doing?

--Do you think he cares? Maybe he's just jealous. Or maybe he's
remembering his own boy loves.

They were in their room now, a double that they didn't have to share,
and Colin was rummaging in his pack. --Do you remember when I asked
you if you liked mayonnaise or vegetable oil and you said --Make mine
mayo please.

It had been late last summer when he'd asked Nigel that question and
the man had to stop and think about it. Then the boy pulled from his
pack a hand full of mayo packets from the fast food joint down the
street from his father's diner. Boxcar would kill him if he found out
the lad was eating in that place but probly he'd just run in and out
to grab the mayo--another part of his grand plan. Colin stood before
his mentor and offered up the mayo packets: --Its still your turn.

Over the next hour they toyed with each other; Colin kept his man
friend just short of the edge while taking every opportunity to
experience one orgasm after another until he was sucked and stroked
to exhaustion. He got to his knees and elbows, head down bum up like
Tad showed him, and told Nigel he was ready. --I want you in me, like
Ben does, like Tad showed me.

--It tickles, Colin said as the serrated edge of the mayo packet
scraped across the puckered annulus he presented to his mentor. Nigel
used his fingers to work the mayo in, one, two, twisting, all the
time stroking the lad's nates, kissing them, until the boy was
relaxed and open to the invasion. Now Colin turned around again and
prepared the man's cock. Mustard would be more like it they joked as
Colin sucked and then spread mayo on Nigel's erection.

--Are you sure you want to do this Colin?

--I'm sure. I've been waiting a long while for this.

He turned back to his former position and Nigel, dripping precum and
mayo knelt between the boy's legs.

--This is going to hurt you Colin, the man said as he grasped the
boy's slim waist and pushed his glans inside. Colin whimpered but
gasped out: --keep going--keep going; its not as bad as when my mum
spanks me and it won't leave any bruises on the outside where my
school mates can see them.

Nigel's patience and concern took a back seat to his lust and he
drove forward, burying his sword to the hilts in the backside of his
boy love. Entry.

From this point forward in his life the boy will never be the same.

Nigel leaned over the boy and thrust. Colin bit hard on the forearm
in his mouth, leaving marks that would be visible for days.


                                 --


The spring Colin was thirteen he came home drunk from school one day.
He'd been drinking with some school mates in the gravel pit along the
river below the pool. The boy was very nearly crawling on hands and
knees, sick, staggering.

--How many beers? Nigel asked.

--A whole six pack, the boy said, shame and fear overcoming what
pride might have been there. --Help me, please, he begged, if my dad
finds me like this I'll never hear the end of it.

Nigel held the boy and helped him vomit up the beer, then they left a
note and drove up to a nearby ski lodge where Nigel helped his young
friend to a shower and they stayed for dinner. They'd often come
here, in more ways than one, to plan Scout trips so it was not
unusual and his parents would not be concerned that Colin was out
late. By the time Nigel brought him home his homework was done and he
was ready for bed.

Later that spring Ben committed suicide. Nigel received a letter from
him explaining that Tad had run off and that Ben's wife had found
many of the pictures of their playing together. When the letter
arrived it was already too late for Nigel to do anything. He decided
not to tell Colin; it had been a long while since they have seen Ben
and Tad anyhow.

Now it is after that hike where this storey began and in the night
Colin wakes. Nigel has had the pleasure of buggering him more than
that first time and now Colin is ready to find out what it is like to
be the bugger rather than the buggee. His erection has grown
considerable in the years since it was first sucked by a man and he
still has one of those mayo packets close to hand. He slips in easier
than the man entered his bum that first time, and then slips out
again for want of practice but quickly gets the rhythm. Nigel wakes
slowing but feigns sleep whilst the boy comes and then pleasures the
man with his hand.

The next time Nigel visits Colin tells him: --I don't want to do it
any more. I know how much you love me and I want you to know how much
I appreciate all you have done for me and all the good times we have
had together. I remember the time you told me I was Jackie Paper and
you were Puff and I guess this is that last grey night.

Not even one more for the road, Colin said when Nigel pressed him.

He knows he's not a little boy any more.

Stef knows he's almost ready to be a man.

                                  -30-