Date: Sat, 18 Sep 2010 07:42:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: jack harold <jackz101@yahoo.com>
Subject: Pool Party Interlude

                Pool Party Interlude


                    by Hartford


It was a pool party, the watery kind. Stephen and one other stayed behind
when the party shifted to the house for dinner and now, peering over the
rim of his book, he observed the other observing him back in an interesting
way. The boy turned his head when he saw him notice.

"Hi," Stephen said.

He blushed and said hi.

"You can look, I don't mind."

"I wasn't looking."

"Yes, you were."

"I was looking at your bathing suit."

"Oh, and why was that?"

"I don't know. Just was."

"You were looking at a particular part of my bathing suit. How old are
you?"

"Twelve."

"Mmm. Twelve is a nice age."

"No, it isn't."

"Would you care to look again?"

He grinned a broad, happy grin that made him prettier than ever. "No," he
said.

"Go ahead, just for fun."  He parted his legs on the vinyl.

"Are you daring me?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he said and dropped his gaze for a full two seconds.

"That was a quick look. Don't you want to look longer, kind of study what
you see there," which was a longish sausage like bulge in the red bathing
trunks.

He liked the man's voice with its easy tone, its sense of fun. And he was a
doll. Stephen Banning was like the hottest man around the girls said, and
it was true. How pissed off they would be if they saw him now. Even six
months ago, the thought of who the hot men might be anywhere would have
been an alien invasion, but that was then, before the discoveries that
began the morning he explored his parents' bedroom and found Rodney, his
mommy's life like dildo that quivered like a thing alive when it fucked
you.

He had stayed behind because of the man with nothing more in mind than
being in his singular presence. It didn't occur to him that he might be the
man's reason for staying.

The pool was a good distance from the house, and a straight six feet down
from a stone patio that girded the pool along the house side, leaving the
two of them safely shielded, unless someone came.

"I can make it bigger. It's a neat trick. Wanna see?"

The boy pursed his lips, considering. "Okay."

"It's not getting bigger," he said when half a minute had passed.

"Yeah, you're right. Guess he's feeling self conscious. What's your name."

"Francis."

"This is your house, right?"

"Yeah."

"Your parents are going to wonder what happened to you."

"My mom will. So you better hurry up."

"Hurry up?  And do what?"

"Whatever you want."

The boy said it softly without a trace of the nervousness that showed in
his face.

"Take off your suit," he said..

"If anyone comes you can hear them on the stones before they get here," the
boy advised.

"Good. Take it off, please," he said, steeling himself not to betray his
own nervousness and amazed excitement.

The light was fading.  In a garden above, Japanese lanterns along the path
had gone on but not yet the lights around the pool, not that he needed them
to watch the little beauty remove his suit and stand before him with a
smirk on his face, showing his little dick, like a piece of hard
candy.. Whatever he wanted. Did the kid mean that? Did he even know what he
meant?  He studied the boy's beautiful body, the beautiful arms, the
beautiful legs, the sweet, intelligent face, his light brown hair, his
large, wide set eyes, so fine, so fucking fine.

"It's your turn," the boy challenged.

"Let's both have a turn. You take it off for me," he said.

The boy squealed and shook his head no, but then he came up, a naked nymph.
The bulge in the man's swimsuit was bigger than before, as big as
Rodney. Francis stood beside the lounge, preparing himself, absorbing the
gaze directed up at him, absorbing as well what he had done and was about
to do. He took in a breath and got to his knees on the cool concrete. He
put his hands on the man's hips. Stephen lifted. The suit came down.

The man smiled.

"What's the verdict?"

"It's...nice," Francis said.

"Nice, huh. Would you like to suck it?"

"You want me to?"

"You bet."

"Do you want to fuck me?."

"Man, you are full of surprises. I'd love to fuck you, sweetheart, but I
suspect it's too darn big for you."

"It's not too big."

He told him quickly about Rodney, how he and the dildo had learned to get
along, an inch at a time, and that Rodney was almost the same size as his
cock.

"I didn't think you would be interested in....me," he concluded.

Stephen took the boy's hand and placed it on his cock. .

"Because I have wife?  I love women. Pretty women and pretty boys. Love 'em
both."

Francis brightened, a weight lifting from his mind. His hand circled the
cock and held it.

"Just women, not girls?"

"Nope, not girls. I like my flat chests on boys."

The boy's hand flattened out on his cock, glided up and glided down.

"I don't like girls, but I like sexy women , the ones with big boobies," he
said, impressed he was maintaining his presence of mind while rubbing the
cock. He guessed he could thank Rodney for that, although Rodney had never
seemed more of an imitation than now.

"Big tits and big cocks."

"Yeah."

"Especially cocks, right Francis?"

Stephen rose from the lounge and went to the stone stairs at the wall. He
climbed two and looked out past a patio surrounding the cavity of the pool
area, then the flower garden, to a much larger lawn, indeed a lawn
obscenely large though presently useful for its size, thence to the back
deck of the house where he made out the crimson sign of his wife's pants
suit amid the apparel of the gathered guests. They were too far away to
hear, and no one was coming.  He looked back at the boy, shyly waiting.

Was he actually waiting to be fucked?

"Are you waiting to be fucked, Francis?"

The boy dropped his head, but he didn't have to say it. His hard pointed
dick gave his answer.

Stephen repositioned himself on the lounge.

"Come here, sweet one."

The boy faced him on his lap, straddling him with his perfect legs. Stephen
lifted him by the waist. He let him down. The alignment was correct.

"Oh!," the boy gasped.

The cock head was in. Stephen watched the boy's face. The boy's eyes were
squeezed shut. His mouth was tight. His cheeks were red. Beads of
perspiration appeared along his forehead. Such a dear face, Stephen
thought. A boy made for fucking. The cock went in deeper, and when it was
half in, he lifted the boy up on it a little, then let him down, them
brought him up, then let him down. It wasn't exactly what Stephen wanted.
He wanted to put the little fuck slut on his hands and knees on the
concrete and fuck him from behind, but it seemed the opportunity for that
was past, so he made the best of it and the best of it was good enough, and
when he was pumping as hard as he could despite his tiring arms, the best
of it was all he wanted in the world. The boy moaned and thrashed his arms,
striking Stephen's shoulder and neck, but Stephen hardly noticed. His
orgasm welled and just before it erupted, the boy did, spraying him.

"Oh, man," Stephen groaned.

Then the boy found out what it's like when a cock goes off inside you.

On the deck, the boy's mother interrupted her chat with Janice Banning to
call to her husband.

"Frank, have you seen Francis? Did he come up from the pool?"

"Don't know," came the answer.

"He was there when I left, Eileen. Stephen didn't come up either. He wanted
to read. So if Francis is at the pool he's not by himself."

"Oh, good. Maybe they're even getting to know each other."


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