Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2001 15:02:19
From: Ganymede
Subject: Pandora's Box XVII

Pandora's Box XVII,   by Ganymede and Christopher.


WARNING:

This story contains a graphic description of sexual acts
between a man and a MINOR boy. We do not condone child abuse,  how-
ever boy-love as described in this story is an entirely  different
matter. If the subject of man/boy sex offends you, if this material
is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the
legal age for such material, do not read further! You have been
warned! Read at your own risk!

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy
has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. Feel free
to post it to appropriate newsgroups or send it to your friends. The
story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. It cannot be placed in
archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed
in any form that requires payment.

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FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in
your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your
thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!


Pandora's Box XVII: Monday Late Afternoon


When we emerged from the trees I immediately noticed David
sitting on the top of a big round rock a hundred yards away from
the Jeep where he was supposed to be waiting for us. It did not
take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was sulking, as well
he should be. I scowled at him. My testicles still ached and it was
uncomfortable walking. If it wasn't for Steven's supporting arm I
would have fallen several times. Joel moped along beside me,
rubbing his bruised eye with the back of his wrist and keeping up a
constant stream of complaints about how much it hurt. I could sense
Steven's antagonism. Indeed, I was getting tired of his whining,
particularly when he started talking about suing David for `assault
and battery' and `intentional infliction of emotional distress',
whatever that was.

David did not move until we were standing beside the Jeep.
Then, he stood up, barely giving any indication that he had
realized that we had returned. Sheepishly, with his eyes downcast
the entire time, he wandered over to the Jeep, getting there just
as we started to get dressed. He hung back, however, keeping his
distance so that he was behind the Jeep while we were gathered at
the front. On the way back, Steven had recommended that Joel and I
ignore him. It sounded like a good plan to me.

I picked my shirt off the windscreen where it had remained
since I had thrown it there several hours earlier. I put it on and
went in search of the rest of my clothes. Joel, suddenly exhibiting
surprising inhibition considering that he had been naked for most
of the afternoon, was getting dressed on the passenger side of the
car. He must have realized that I was looking for my shorts and
briefs because my shorts came sailing through the air accompanied
by a high-pitched giggle from Joel.

"Looking for these?" he chortled gleefully.

I jumped to catch them, but missed by a few inches. I walked
over and picked them up from the sand and dusted them off. Steven
smiled and shook his head.

"Great catch, Chrissie! Somehow I don't think the future
includes a role for you playing in the major leagues."

"Very funny." I grinned at him, ready to tease him back. And I
knew just how to do it. "Did you know your dick is really sun
burnt?"

"What?" Steven's response was immediate and panicked.

When he looked back up from inspecting his highly prized but
only slightly reddened penis, I was smiling.

"Touche, and also very funny," Steven said with a grin. "The
only thing though, Chrissie, is I'm not sure who be most upset if
it was sun burned. You or me?"

"Ha ha," I pretended to laugh.

There was more than a grain of truth in what he had said. That
part of Steven's body had suddenly become indispensable to my body.
What had happened of the last few days surely had to be one of
nature's miracles.

"Are my undies over there as well, Joel?" I called out.

"Yeah, but I'm not picking them up! There is no way!"

Boys are funny like that. They can do the most disgusting
things sometimes and then be totally grossed out if asked to touch
someone's underpants. I started to walk around to the other side of
the car to get them myself. By the time I got there, a matter of
only a few seconds, Joel had lifted my briefs up on a dry stick and
was inspecting them.

"What's this?" he inquired.

"Huh?" I asked.

Then I saw what he was pointing at, the adhesive backed pad
that I had placed there earlier to absorb the leaking fluids.

"Oh that? It's nothing." I said, trying to avoid explaining
what it was and why it was there. I could have saved myself the
trouble.

"It looks like what my mom uses when she has her period.,"
Joel continued. "Why do you have one stuck were your butt goes?"

I groaned and glanced back to Steven. He was busy putting on
his shoes. He either had not heard or had chosen to ignore what was
happening. In an instant, I understood then why my mother would
sometimes say that men were no help at all. Steven had a habit of
letting me fend for myself.

"Um. For my period?" I joked.

Joel gave me an `I-am-not-amused' face. I shrugged. It was
none of his business and I was not about to elaborate.

"Yeah right. Now tell me why, really?"

"Because," I said testily.

"Because why?"

Joel was being persistent. "Why do you think?" I replied
hotly.

Joel thought for a few seconds. "I don't know. It would be
different if you were a girl. Then it would be because it was that
time of the month."

"Well, I'm not, am I?" There was no point in being rude to
him. "It keeps stuff from getting on my clothes," I added.

"Huh? What stuff?"

Steven chuckled. "Sometimes, it leaks from his butt," he
answered. "Doesn't it, Chrissie?" he teased.

I gave him a cold look and wrinkled my nose to show I thought
his comment stank. All I succeeded in doing was making him laugh. I
guess there was a funny side to it if you weren't personally
involved.

"What leaks? Is there something wrong with his butt?"

"When we have sex, my semen leaks out afterwards," Steven said
clinically.

David, already sitting in the back seat, snorted in derision.
By contrast, Joel studied the pad with even more fascination,
trying to see if there was anything on it. It had been lying in the
sun so long it was dry. A moment later he held the stick towards me
so that I could pick my briefs off the end. Joel smirked knowingly.
I turned around and glared at Steven. He shrugged. Sometimes the
truth was the best explanation, but I did not think that this was
one of those times.

"Thanks a lot," I said sarcastically.

Steven shrugged. I pulled on my briefs, wondering if I still
needed to wear the pad. After all, I had just spent the last few
hours naked and nothing had come out, at least not that I had
noticed.

"He asked a question and I answered it, Chrissie. He's not
going to tell anyone, are you Joel?" Steven said firmly.

Joel shook his head.

"What about him?" I asked, gesturing towards David.

Steven smiled. "David won't tell either, Chrissie. He had his
own dirty little secret to worry about."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it, Chrissie. Put on your shorts guys and
let's get this show on the road," Steven said.

The abruptness with which he had changed the subject gave a
clear indication that whatever David's `little secret' was, we were
not about to discuss it any further. I resented that my `little
secret' was apparently a matter of public information, but not
David's. I caught David's eyes when I bent down to put on my
shorts. He was glaring at Steven, but his face was red, and not
from being in the sun. His hands were clenched into fists. He
appeared as if he was going to say something, yet he didn't.
Instead, he shook his head angrily at Steven before he turned and
stared into the distance.

By the time I had finished dressing, Joel was beginning to
climb over the front seat in order to take his seat in the back of
the car. I smirked, seeing an opportunity to show Steven that I
could be aggressive when I wanted to be and to get back at him for
telling Joel about the pad in my briefs.

"Hey Joel, why don't you sit up front and I'll in back," I
suggested as innocently as I could.

Steven turned immediately. That got his interest. His eyes
narrowed thoughtfully as he put one and one to together and came up
with something other than two. He was going to be cheated from
playing with my penis, or whatever else he planned to do on the
return trip if he allowed this to happen, which was entirely my
plan. Joel stopped climbing over the seat and glanced back at
Steven for direction.

"It's only fair," I said teasingly. I wanted to Steven to know
exactly why I was doing it. It was almost impossible not to giggle.
"I rode in the front of the way down. It's Joel's turn now," I
added pointedly.

My logic was the kind of logic that adults find impossible to
refute because it was the exact-same logic that they used with kids
to get them to do something. Steven was about to say something. He
even opened his mouth, but then he thought better of it. There was
a long silence that was almost amusing as Joel hovered over the
front seat, clinging to the roll bar while he waited for
instructions.

"Well, okay! Sit down in front, Joel," Steven said grumpily.

I grinned at him, deliberately brushing my crotch against his
shoulder as I swung up from the side and into the back seat behind
him. I fastened my seatbelt and we were ready to go. Just before he
started the car, Steven looked over his shoulder.

"Everyone strapped in back there?" he asked. David and I
nodded. "Okay. By the way, I have an idea for waht to do next. We
could go back to the house and you guys could swim for a while or
hang out and play V-R games or whatever, or we could go the long
way around, which would bring us back through Palm Springs. We
could drop by one of the malls for a while, maybe watch a movie and
get some dinner?"

"The mall," all three of us said together.

"The mall it is then. Let me call home and tell your parents
so no one worries and sends out a search party."

Steven used his cell-phone and talked with Mrs. Beaton. Dinner
was not going to be a problem because she was planning a barbeque.
She promised to let everyone know and that she would call back if
there was a problem. Then, Steven started the engine and we began
the slow drive out of the canyon. This time, instead of going up
the steep ravine, we continued along the canyon floor, keeping
close to the creek because there were fewer boulders that had
fallen down from the overhanging cliffs.

After a few minutes of being bumped and jolted, I turned to
David. He was staring to the side, away from me,obviously trying to
avoid any contact with me. I did not like him either. Up front,
Joel and Steven were discussing the advantages of flat-12 versus V-
12 engines. From what I could hear, there were definite advantages
of `boxers', whatever that meant.

"Hey, David," I began awkwardly.

I had unfinished business with him. Taekwondo taught me that.
Sparring always ended with a bow and a handshake. The point was not
to make enemies if you could possibly avoid it.

"Yeah? What do you want?" David answered moodily.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to do that."

"Huh? Do what?"

"Fight like that. I should have run," I said apologetically.

"Huh? Run? Why would you run when you can fight like that?" he
asked miserably. "You were kicking the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I was supposed to run. I'm not
supposed to fight when the other person hasn't got protective gear
on,... and especially I shouldn't have kicked at your groin," I
added glumly. "That was really bad."

"Huh? You're crazy! I kicked you in the balls first. I guess I
deserved what I got."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying your sorry. It was my fault," David admitted
sulkily. "I started it."

"Did I hurt you bad?" I asked guiltily.

"Yeah. Kind of. Those kicks at the end were terrible."

"I'm sorry. I sort of lost control. My Taekwondo instructor
would be so mad if she knew."

"You're taking Taekwondo?" David asked irritably. "My mom
won't let me. My dad would, but my mom pretty much decides things
around our house."

"Yeah, I've noticed. So does my mom," I smiled, thinking about
how little I had to say in my life. "You don't need to take
classes. You already pack a pretty mean punch," I added ruefully.

"The gym teacher at school showed us some stuff to get us
interested in joining the boxing and wrestling teams." David
hesitated. "I'm sorry, okay?"

It sounded as if he really was sorry. I shrugged. "Okay. Do
your nuts hurt?" I asked boldly.

"Yeah, they're kind of sore. Do yours hurt?"

"It's not as bad now" I admitted. "I almost couldn't walk for
a while."

"I didn't mean to do it that hard," David said apologetically.

"You shouldn't have done it at all," I replied.

"Yeah, well you were asking for it."

"Me? I never did anything to hurt you," I said bitterly.
"You've been going out of your way to make my life miserable ever
since I arrived."

David pursed his lips. He did not answer. "I didn't mean to
hurt you, okay," he said after a while.

"Yeah, you did," I rebuked. "You kicked me as hard as you
could. And you gave Joel a black eye too."

"Look, I'm trying to say I'm sorry," David said softly. He
hung his head. "I lost my temper."

"I did too," I said.

I smiled weakly, remembering the hundreds of time that my
Taekwondo instructor had talked about not fighting, about not using
the skills that I was working so hard to develop. She called it the
`Taekwondo run'. Always run before fighting. Fighting was the last
resort.

David shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with how the
conversation was going. Like me, he was not very good at
apologizing. The Jeep bounced over some rocks and crossed a creek,
sending sheets of water spraying outwards. Under any other
circumstances we would have shouted with glee. Instead, it brought
David and me face to face. His eyes were red, almost as if he had
been crying. He swallowed, then sniffed. I smiled.

"I'd rather be friends with someone than have them as an
enemy," I said pointedly. "Do you want to be friends?" I added
awkwardly. It was a big risk.

"Yeah," David said offhandedly.

Then, he put out his hand. I stared at it for a few seconds. I
was surprised. I had not expected him to say `yes'. I didn't trust
him, not after all the times he had tormented me.

"Why?" I asked uncertainly.

"You won," he said simply.

"Huh? I won? You mean the fight? That doesn't make any sense.
You should be friends with someone because you like them, not
because they beat you in a fight."

"Yeah, I know. It's more than that." He sighed. "You wouldn't
understand. It's everything else."

"Meaning what?" I asked.

David ignored my question. "You want to shake or what, Chris?"
His hand was still there, extended towards me.

I reached out, slipped our hands together, feeling
uncomfortable even touching him. I think I expected him to bend my
fingers back or something. There was a bully at school like that.
He either bent your fingers back so far that they were about to
snap off, or he squeezed so hard that it felt like your fingers
were being crushed. He had been held back a year and I don't think
he ever got over it. He delighted in tormenting my friend, Paul,
and me too because I was Paul's best friend.

David smiled slightly as we shook.

"What's so funny, David?" I asked awkwardly.

"For a little kid, you sure hurt when you kick someone in the
nuts."

"I said I was sorry."

"For a while there it felt like you crushed them," David said.
"They still hurt like hell."

"So do mine."

"They'd probably hurt less if they were hanging out... You
want to?" he suggested shyly.

"Huh? Want to what?"

"Let them hang out a while. I will if you will."

"You mean take our shorts down?" I asked uneasily.

"Sure. Don't worry, I promise I won't do anything," David
added as he saw my apprehensive expression. "I just think the cool
air might make them feel better," he added quickly.

"I guess," I ventured.

David did not hesitate. His hands deftly unfastened his button
and opened his zipper. He lifted his buttocks up and shoved his
shorts and boxers part of the way down his thighs. It was far
enough to expose his genitals. His penis was already hard. I stared
at it, mesmerized by it. It was large. Not large like Steven, but
large for a boy. It was bigger than Joel's, vastly bigger than
mine. It was thick and dark, with bluish veins under the tightly
stretched skin. The knob on the top reminded me of a cherry because
of its size and color. It was even darker than the head of Steven's
penis.

"That feels a lot better. Now you," David said softly.

I followed suit, watching him from the corner of my eye as I
fumbled with my shorts. I lifted my buttocks, pushing my shorts
down to my knees. Then, taking a deep breath and hoping that I was
not exposing myself to ridicule, I peeled my briefs down, making
sure that the cloth was well away from my sore testicles. I glanced
over at David. He had pushed his shorts and boxers all the way to
his feet and he was sitting with his knees wide apart so the breeze
could reach his injured parts.

His scrotum hung in loose folds, drooping with the weight of
his two recently matured testicles. It was a bit like looking at
two pigeon eggs, so much bigger than either mine or Joel's
testicles that just one of them was the size of all four of ours
combined. His maturity was even more evident in the sparse strands
of hair that adorned his groin, mostly above his penis, but there
were a few fine hairs scattered on his scrotum.

I took a deep breath and pushed my shorts and briefs further
down, making sure that the pad on the seat of my briefs was hidden
from sight. It was not a subject that I cared to revisit in a
hurry. I placed my knees as far apart as possible. The air rushed
over my sweaty skin and the sudden coolness provided instant
relief.

"Feel better?" David asked.

"Yeah, much better," I answered absently.

I could not take my eyes away from his penis. It was different
to Joel's penis, but it was also different to Steven's as well, but
not only because it was smaller. The hair was different. Steven's
hair was dark and coarse, and very curly. The hair around David's
penis was like silk, straight, very fine, pigmented, some so blond
that it was almost colorless, a few stands even darker than the
color of the hair on his head.

"Yours is big," I said admiringly.

David smirked proudly. "Yeah, it isn't." He flexed it and it
bounced up and down a few times.

"Hey, what are you guys doing back there?" Steven laughed.

I could see his eyes in the rear-vision mirror. I grinned back
at him and poked my tongue out. He reached up and adjusted the
mirror, tilting it downwards

"We're cooling off. It feels better without shorts on," I
added by way of justifying why my shorts and briefs were at my
ankles.

"Okay. Just make sure you get your clothes back on before we
get to Palm Springs," Steven laughed. "I don't want to get arrested
with a couple of half-naked boys in the back seat."

Joel spun around in his seat and stared. My penis was still
soft, but I was playing with it, not really thinking about what I
was doing. I stroked it as I continued to watch David. He put his
hand on his penis, around it actually, holding it the same way that
I had learned to hold Steven's penis. He used his whole hand,
wrapping four fingers on one side with his thumb on the other. It
was very different to how I held my penis, or Joel's penis for that
matter, with two fingers braced against my thumb on the other side.
Even still, David's penis stuck out of his fist by at least an
inch, maybe more. His penis had to be at least five inches long.
Five inches! That was twice the length of mine, but it looked much
bigger than that. To my eyes it looked five times bigger!

"Wow," I murmured.

David smirked proudly. He pulled down so that his hand was
against the base, and he squeezed. The fat head darkened and the
rim, already prominent, flared out even more. The slit in the tip
opened slightly. I licked my lips. I could feel my heart beating
faster and faster the longer I stared at his penis, feeling
juvenile pangs of envy and a disturbing desire to touch it. My
excitement was evident as my own penis began to harden. Within a
few seconds what had previously been limp and sleepy-soft was
sticking straight up and quivering expectantly. I cupped my hand
over it, letting it protrude between my thumb and fingers as I
fondled my little testicles. By then I was very aware that David
was now staring at mine.

"Yours sure got hard fast," he said approvingly.

That was all he said. I smiled shyly. At David. At Joel. At
Steven, who was glancing continuously in the rear vision mirror by
that point.

"Hey, you guys, don't do anything that I wouldn't do," Steven
joked. "I've always said that boys should be boys whenever they get
the opportunity."

"We're not doing anything. Not with an audience, that's for
sure," David sneered.

Steven laughed and reached up to the mirror again, this time
tilting it way up so that was not going to show anything except a
view of the sky overhead. It helped, but Joel was still staring at
us.

"Okay no audience. Hey Joel, I think the boys in the back seat
need some privacy for a while," he chided playfully. "You had your
chance with Chrissie. Now it's David's turn to get to know his
cousin."

David raised his eyes in exasperation. Then, he smiled at me
knowingly. He pointed at his penis and then at mine. If I had any
doubts about what he had in mind they were promptly dispelled when
he reached over and lifted my hand away. His hand cupped over my
sex organs and he squeezed gently. Even then, I still did not trust
him. I tensed up, waiting for him to hurt me. However, his hand was
soft, soothing, rubbing ever so gently, taking away the soreness
from my testicles, replacing one ache with an ache of a very
different type. I breathed out. It felt good.

I was not sure what I was supposed to do. Part of me wanted to
do to him what he was doing to me. Part of me was scared. I gazed
downward. David's fingers embraced my penis, stroking slowly. He
tickled the puckered tip of my foreskin curiously exploring the
obvious difference to his own much larger organ. The little piece
of skin seemed to fascinate him. Every Jewish boy grew up knowing
the importance of circumcision and accepting the ritual as
fundamental to his religion. However, it did not eliminate his
curiosity when he was confronted by an intact organ. David's
fingers followed the contour, feeling the shape beneath the veil of
skin. It was easy to see the shape of my glans, even the flared rim
made a little ridge almost all the way around. He pressed his
fingers down, pushing the skin back just far enough that the tiny
head began to peek through.

He smirked. He touched the pinkish tip and I shivered as a
thousand nerves responded. I still had not touched his penis.
Firmly, he took hold of my hand and brought it across, planted it
directly over his genitals, kept it there. His corresponding part
was hot, slightly moist, very alive. His erection moved under my
fingers, pressed up against the palm of my hand. My hand trembled,
but by then there was no longer any need for David to keep his hand
against mine. The heat from his body flowed through my hand, into
me, becoming a part of me. How many boys have realized that
intimate pleasure and discovered that it satisfies a need that has
always existed within them? I knew that I would never want to let
go of it.

David leaned over, bringing his head closer to mine.

"You do mine and I'll do yours," he whispered.

He moved back, looking for my approval. I did not need to be
told what `do' meant. I nodded, instinctively realizing that Steven
had approved, had given tacit encouragement. He expected me to do
this. It was an important part of being a boy.

Immedidiately, David's hand began to move. He was an expert at
masturbating, at least by my standard. He used only one finger
against his thumb. He held another finger over the tip of my penis,
rubbing into the puckered end of my foreskin. Two fingers massaged
my testicles, pushing them back and forth in the loose skin of my
scrotum. It was a technique that I was completely unaware of.

Guiltily aware that I was succumbing to having sex with a boy
with Steven sitting only a foot away from me, I tried to resist
doing more than merely hold David's penis. It was an exercise in
futility. It was like trying to avoid one's destiny. Once Pandora's
Box had been opened, I could not hope to ever close it again. My
hand began to reciprocate almost as if it was not attached to my
brain. I stared at it, watching it go up and down, my small fist
wrapped around another boy's much larger penis. It was all I could
do to breath.

David's penis was also the first penis besides my own that I
had actually masturbated. It was smooth, as smooth as my own, silky
smooth, like touching something that was so soft it could barely be
sensed through my fingers. There was less flexibility in the skin.
I noticed that right away. The skin on David's penis was stretched
very tightly. I inspected it closely in the bright light of the
afternoon sun. There was a brownish ring about halfway down and a
shiny area closer to the tip that I had not noticed on my penis. I
assumed that was where the skin had been removed. He had the same
line on the underside that I had, the line that looked like it was
a scar from an operation, but which went all the way back under my
scrotum.

"Hold it tighter," David breathed out.

His voice sounded strange, anxious, excited. I looked up
immediately. His eyes were closed to mere slits and he seemed to be
breathing in sudden short gasps through clenched teeth. His entire
body appeared to tense up every couple of seconds. His hand was
still stroking my penis, but now it was erratic, frenzied
sometimes, abrupt jerking then stopping when the stress increased
beyond his control. The expression on his face was both distant and
disturbing. If I did not know better I would have thought that he
was in pain. The sensations seemed to come in waves, getting
stronger and stronger and taking him further and further away from
me.

"Faster," David groaned.

"Faster?"

"Yeah," he shuddered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked nervously.

His breathing was ragged. His hand was fluttering on my penis,
barely touching at that point, just tugging on the loose skin at
the end. Even that felt wonderful. His legs pushed down, straining
upwards. His entire body trembled.

"Faster!" he gasped.

Was it possible that his already rigid penis became even
stiffer? I could feel the difference. What had been hard before,
now was like steel, completely inflexible, unyielding except for
the delicate membrane of skin that slid up and down over the bone
inside. This was a `boner', the `boner' that boys at school joked
about. It was as hard or harder than my penis became just before
what I thought of as an explosion.

I rubbed as fast as I could, no longer using my fist, but all
four fingers on the underside, and my thumb on the top. I could rub
faster that way because there was less friction. My wrist was
aching. My elbow was aching. I was aware of only one thing. That by
doing what David wanted, we were sharing something very special,
and that by sharing this special thing, we were coming closer. We
were friends now.

What followed was over in a few seconds, yet each second was
so precious that it was inscribed into my memory. David made a
strange noise and heaved upwards. It sounded like `N-n-n-n-gggg-o-
o-ohhhhh.' I glanced up, his face was contorted, his lips open as
he gasped in shock, eyes wide, teeth clenched. It was not the
intense pleasure that I felt at the end, yet it was not a face in
pain. What I witnessed was something else, more intense,
overwhelming yet sublime resignation, the face of ecstasy. I had
seen the same expression only once on Steven's face at the precise
moment when he ejaculated his semen into my rectum.

It was for that reason as much as the sudden jerking of the
penis between my fingers that caused me to look down again. I
watched David's penis spasm, disgorging a second milky spurt onto
my forearm. Despite everything that I had done with Steven, I had
never seen semen before. It took me by surprise, although I
instinctively realized what it was. The third and fourth spurts had
much less force and splattered over my hand. David's penis pulsed
again, dribbling the last of it over my fingers. Suddenly the
friction was gone and my fingers moved on a slippery hot film.
Abruptly, David pushed my hand away, shaking his head as he slumped
back into his seat. He was breathless. My hand was covered with my
cousin's semen. It dripped from my fingers.

My playground knowledge expected semen to be thicker, whiter,
like the cream that it was often referred to as. This was nothing
like cream. It wasn't even like milk, not even skim milk. It was
fascinating both in constituency and quantity. There was a lot of
it. Then, I remembered what Doctor Lehr had said about Steven, that
he produced a lot. Logic said the same would be true of Steven's
brother, and more than likely, like father, like son. Absently I
rubbed the fingers of my left hand through the spurts that had
landed on my forearm. I smeared it over my skin with a vague
appreciation that I was anointing myself. Then, suddenly aware that
David was staring at me, I stopped what I was doing and looked for
something to clean it off. I resorted to using the handkerchief in
the pocket of my shorts.

"Gross," I remarked with what I hoped was typical preteen
indifference to conceal what I was really feeling.

David smirked. He could see right through me. He could sense
my excitement, the elevation of my pulse, my disconcerting
realization that he was far closer to being a man than I was. He
had shared the secret of manhood with me.

Then, his hand began to move again, not fast, not slow, a
measured pace that was calculated to bring the greatest amount of
pleasure. Unlike Steven, who pushed my foreskin back almost as soon
as he started in order to heighten my delight, David did not do
anything with it. It was almost as if my foreskin was there to
protect my glans. He did nothing except rub gently. He understood
what Steven did not understand. He was still a boy despite his wet
orgasm, so he understood what boys liked, or at least this boy.
First he got me used to a simple up and down rhythm, then he varied
the motion and the pace, rolling his fingers around, finding a new
position, squeezing on the sheathed bulb of my glans, never leaving
my testicles unattended for very long. Rubbing faster, pressing
harder and rubbing slower, pulling up then pushing down. When I
started to squirm in my seat, he slowed down, reduced the pressure,
and then promptly restored it so that I was not sure what toe xpect
next.

Minutes passed as the Jeep jolted and shuddered its circuitous
way down the canyon. David had me writhing in my seat, twitching,
gasping, groaning. I was nearly obvious to what was happening other
than in the area of my crotch. I missed the half a dozen deer that
bounded in front of the Jeep, causing Steven to swerve and barely
avoid colliding with a tree trunk. At that moment, I was in
rapture, abandoned to the throes of prepubescent arousal for which
climax was going to be but a transient interruption. I came once,
quickly, jerking in shameless ecstasy as my penis pulsed dryly. The
deer leaped and bounded away, and disappeared into the trees before
I could open my eyes. For a few seconds, my body glowed and my
vacuumed mind achieved that blissful state of self-awareness that
all males attain after climax.

Perhaps it should have ended there, but as Steven engaged
reverse gear and backed the Jeep away from the tree trunk, David
resumed his unhurried pace once again. It was as if nothing had
happened, or rather that nothing had happened to me, even though I
was still trembling. He was in no hurry to finish, but then neither
was I. Within a few strokes, the urge was just as strong as it had
been earlier. He was giving me pleasure as only another male can
give a boy who is still incapable of producing semen.

The delight began to increase again, building from deep inside
me, burning hot, glowing with the friction of his hand. At times it
seemed impossible that his hand co0uld move so quickly. It was a
blur, sometimes barely moving, at other times making long strokes
from base to tip. I started to gasp, hoping that it would last
longer than before. I was oblivious to everything except David's
hand. I barely noticed that Joel had turned around in his seat
again and was watching. I didn't care. Not then. Not when I felt
like I was going to explode.

I began to move at some point, although I don't remember
making a conscious effort to do so. It just happened. My pelvis
started to move by itself, oscillating, lifting up, seeking more,
demanding pleasure that seemed humanly possible for a small boy to
sustain in a single day. The grunts were mine, so were the gasps
and whimpers. All David did was smile knowingly, and keep rubbing,
if anything even faster than before. I suppose it was funny in a
way, watching my motions become increasingly frenzied, until my
mouth stayed opened and my eyes were tightly closed. Then, without
warning even my mouth closed and my teeth clenched until my jaws
ached.

I could feel it building, getting stronger, a pressure growing
inside me, seeking to find a way to burst from my groin. The only
way out, as indeed the entire source of it, was the less-than-three
throbbing inches of my rigid penis. I could not remember it ever
being so hard. It felt like it would snap off. I glanced down,
fascinated by the speed that David could make his hand move,
watching his fingers dragging my foreskin all the way back, until
the blue-tinted crown of my penis was fully exposed, then back
snapping again until the skin was bunched over the tip again and
there was a momentary respite from what was pure delightful agony.

Unlike the first time, the second time came slowly, inevitably
building from one plateau to another that seemed just out of reach,
but once I got there, there was yet another just ahead and offering
something that was even more tempting, demanding that I strain even
harder. My thighs were taut, the muscles stretched and tendons
pulled tight, lifting my buttocks completely off the seat,
vibrating with frenzied short pelvic thrusts in a crude juvenile
parody of intercourse. Just when it seemed as if I could not take
any more and still remain conscious, or not scream out and beg for
mercy, which was my most likely course of action, my penis began to
pulse with spasms of its own. I had no control over it. It jerked
wildly up and down half a dozen times, perhaps even more while I
heaved in my seatand mae a sound that was very similiar to the
sound that David had made earlier. I slumped back, trying to regain
my breath. David held my still throbbing penis, clenching it
tightly, squeezing, forcing the blood out of my sensitive organ,
comforting me.

The bliss that followed was unlike any I had ever known. I
felt like I had competed in the Boston marathon. And won! I did not
want to do anything, not even think. I was physically drained.
Awkwardly, I pushed at David's hand. Simply being held was too
much. My penis was reddened and too sore to touch.

"That was a good one, Chrissie," Steven laughed.

"Huh?" I muttered.

"You were incredible."

"What are you talking about?" My voice sounded distant, my
words slurred.

"The second time you carried on like you were dying," Joel
giggled.

"You should have heard yourself," Steven added.
"'Oooooohhhhhhhhh, David, oooooohhhhhhhhh, oooooohhhhh! Faster!
Faster! I don't think I've ever heard a boy make that much noise.
You were begging for more."

"Very funny," I groaned.

David smirked. "I thought you were going to cum the last time,
Chris. You were giving it everything you had, but you still came up
dry."



I ignored them and closed my eyes, trying to find the answers
behind my eyelids in my private world of thoughts. Had I really
made those sounds? Had I really begged David the way that Steven
said? Part of me accepted it as truth, but another part still
wanted to reject that David could ever do anything nice for me. Why
had it felt so good? And another thing. Why did I want David to
keep on doing it? I wanted the feelings to never end.

After a few minutes, I opened my eyes again. David was leaning
over the back of Joel's seat, engaged in yet another conversation
about the off road capabilities of the Jeep Wrangler. Between the
two of them they were trying very hard to encourage Steven to take
the roughest routes instead of staying on the track. Finally, David
convinced him and Steven took to the creek bed and let the Jeep
demonstrate what it was capable of. It was quite a ride. The worse
the bumps, the more rugged the terrain, the more the Jeep shone.
David was right, nothing could stop it. It seemed to me that if you
could get one wheel onto or over something, the rest of the car
would follow in short order.

However, after half an hour even David was beginning to get
tired of hanging on and shouting as the Jeep lurched from side to
side. Joel was looking tired and complained of getting bruises on
his butt, and me, who already had bruises in his butt, was
perfectly happy for Steven to get back onto the track. By then, the
track, which lay a hundred hard yards to the right, was much
smoother than it had been. Steven accelerated and we began to make
up for lost time. After another half hour we were within sight of
Palm Springs, although it was still a long way away.

We returned from a different direction to the way we had
started. It was almost as if we had made a big loop around a
mountain. I said so to Steven and he grinned over his shoulder. He
stopped the car and reached into the map pocket beside his seat.

"Here!" he said pointed to his finger. "What is this?"

"Palm Springs," David answered quickly.

Steven nodded. "This?"

"Where we are now?" Joel suggested uncertainly.

"No, it's not," I said, equally uncertainly.

"Why not?" Joel demanded.

"Because it shows there's a mountain between us and Palm
Springs, but there's not," I answered. I thought for a second.
Where Steven's finger pointed was between two sets of squiggly
parallel lines. "Is that the canyon where we stopped?" I suggested
meekly.

"Very good," Steven said admiringly. "Why do you think so?"

"Because of the lines," I said. I looked at the map. "And the
sun was behind the mountain when we left."

"Huh?" Joel said.

"The mountain would be to the west of the canyon, or at least
part of it would be," I explained.

"It sounds like you're into orienteering, Chrissie," Steven
remarked. "I didn't know you were a boy scout."

"I'm not," I said. "What's orient-whatever-you said?"

"Orienteering. It's a fancy name for finding your way by map
reading, among other things," Steven explained. "How did you know
where we were?"

"I just sort of figured it out, I guess."

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Chrissie," Steven
chuckled as he put the map away. "You and I can have some fun this
summer."

I thought I had heard wrong for a few seconds. Had Steven
suggested that I would see him again during the summer? I was
afraid to ask. It was too much to ask for. I summoned all my
courage and was ready to ask him, but by then it was too late.
Steven would not have heard me over the roar of the Jeep's engine.

It was not long before we came to a bitumen road and we all
made loud groaning noises. We pretended to be instantly relieved
that we were finally back in civilization again and our butts did
not have to suffer continuous pounding in what had become very
uncomfortable seats. The next few miles zipped past and houses
appeared in pseudo-desert settings that featured palm trees,
cactus, waterfalls and large boulders. After a while, all of the
houses even looked the same and they began to get so close together
that the landscaped gardens were pitifully small.

"Hey, Chris?"

I looked over sleepily. "Yeah, David."

"You'd better pull your shorts up before someone sees you and
calls the police," David chortled.

I blushed. He was right. My shorts and briefs were still
bunched up at my feet. Hurriedly, I reached down and yanked them
up, aware that everyone was laughing. I laughed too.



Steven pulled into a vast parking area and went up and down a
few aisles to find a parking spot that was not half a mile from the
mall. We teased him about parking in one of the handicapped spots,
because there were so many of them. However, right when we were
about to give up and go to the far, far end of the line of cars,
Steven darted into a space. We clambered out and tidied our
clothes. We were still a hundred yards from the nearest mall
entrance

"I'm a mess," I said as I examined the three of us. Joel and
David were as untidy as I was. I felt like I was covered with a
layer of dust.

Steven laughed. "If you're worried, Chrissie, we can always go
back to the house and get showered and changed, but personally I
think the three of you are fine. You are boys after all. Being a
bit dirty goes with the territory."

He led the way into the mall. It was different to the malls I
had visited in Boston. For one thing, this mall was enormous and it
was like a museum with polished marble floors. The other thing that
I noticed was the large number of old people. If they weren't old,
they looked very rich. It seemed as if every other person we passed
knew Steven. He was constantly saying hello and introducing us as
his cousins. The people we met would have been blind not to realize
that I was Steven's favorite. He kept his arm around my shoulders
almost all the time. It was like one very long hug. I sensed that
David resented it, but short of brushing Steven's arm away there
was nothing that I could do about it.

Eventually, we found ourselves in front of a restaurant where
our clothes would not seem too much out of place. My mother was
never one to enjoy spicy foods, and Mexican and southwestern food
in particular. I had eaten Mexican only a few times in my life, and
then it was when Paul's parents took me out to dinner. I was in for
a taste extravaganza. We gorged ourselves on soft tacos, refried
beans, beef and chicken, avocadoes, corn, fried peppers, and a lot
of different kinds of food that I did not recognize but certainly
tasted very good.

An hour later we waddled out of the restaurant and went in
search of the cinema-plex. Steven took us to see `Gladiator'. He
made sure that he and I sat together. His arm wrapped around me,
pulling us close together. Not only did I love him, by now I liked
him a great deal. He was like a brother, best friend and father all
in one person. His fingers stroked my neck, curling in my hair,
fondling my ears until I began to giggle, always teasing gently and
letting me know how important I was to him. I would have been very
happy except that I kept thinking about the fact that my mother and
I had to go home the next day.

The movie was about halfway through when Steven kissed his
finger and pressed the tip to my lips. I kissed it first, then
licked it, then sucked it, then pulled it into my mouth. I was
aware of Joel watching us, his elbow jabbing David, then David
watching, smirking, both of them giggling softly. Playfully, Steven
popped his finger from between my lips and wiped my spit over my
nose. Then there were three boys giggling. When we finally settled
down, Steven leaned close to me.

"Okay, Chrissie," he whispered. "I have just one question."

"Uh huh?"

"Why did you sit in back on the way here?"

I smirked at him. "You said I wasn't aggressive enough, and
that I always got pushed around, so I wanted to show you."

"Okay! I thought that was the reason. I just wanted to make
sure. You know I only want the best for you, don't you, Chrissie?"

"Yeah, I know. Anyway the way it turned out it was a really
good idea," I added.

"How so, Chrissie?"

"Because I'm good friends with David now."

"That's true. I was hoping that you and David would work it
out. And that's good because I expect you'll be seeing a lot more
of him now."

"Why?" I asked.

"Hm, that's a good question, Chrissie. It's been a secret for
so long, but I guess I'll have to tell you eventually," Steven said
mysteriously. He grinned in the near darkness. "Only not now.
You'll have to wait until later because I don't want to miss the
movie."