Date: Tue, 3 Mar 2009 17:27:37 -0800 (PST)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around  Ch 35

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, then why are you here?

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Want to read a couple of good stories?  Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give".


Chapter Thirty-Five: Second Time Around


During the return flight from New York, I decided that life needed to slow
down for both me and the boys.  The weekend was fun, particularly the time
I had with David, but there needed to be some slow down or quiet time.  The
boys had school and needed to focus on their academic and extracurricular
activities.  School related activities would keep them running most of the
day.  Evenings needed to be for homework and family time.  I had my work
which was more than enough to keep me jumping during the day.  My evenings
needed to focus on watching the boys grow and a little private time for
myself.

Sunday evening, I sat the boys down and talked with them about my thoughts.
I wasn't sure what their reactions would be given how kids seem to have an
abundance of energy and always someplace to go or something to do.  It felt
good to know that they had realized that our pace of life had picked up to
the point of not having time to enjoy the simple things.  Eric was with us
and I let him know that, while he was always welcome to visit and stay with
the boys, he needed to give some time to his mother and grandmother.  He
admitted to missing spending time with them.  That easily, our life was
returning to normal.

Monday evening, I walked into the house to find a fire in the fireplace,
music playing, if you could call what kids listened to today music, and
something was cooking.  I was greeted first by number two son, soon
followed by number one son and what I now considered to be number three
son.  Naturally, all three sons were au natural; it wouldn't be normal if
they weren't.  One took my coat and even offered to take my clothes to the
bedroom if I wanted to get comfortable.  Another handed me a cold beer.
Dinner was to be left over lasagna brought home from mother's.  The boys
were making a simple salad to go with the meal.

Experience, and a little common sense, told me I was being royally set up
for something.  Whatever it was had to be big and they had a good idea I
wasn't going to go along with whatever they had in mind.  Common sense also
told me to go along with whatever they were doing, enjoy the moment, and
let the scene play out.

"Guys, any idea how long before the lasagna is ready?"

"I called Grandma and she said it'd take about thirty minutes to heat up
the way we're doin' it," Frank volunteered.

"Okay, tell you what.  Since you boys seem to have everything under
control, I'm going to take a quick shower before dinner."

"You can make it a long, hot one if ya want so you can relax; we'll wait,"
Michael called out and then added, "Holler if ya want one of us ta come and
wash your back."

Oh yeah.  I was definitely being set up.  The dead give away was the offer
to wash my back and wait to eat.  These guys were teenagers; they never
offered to wait to eat.

I took my time rejoining the boys, curious to see if they would really wait
for me.  They did.  When I walked into the room they had set the plates on
the breakfast bar with placemats, a full compliment of silver, napkins,
three salad dressings to choose from and a fresh beer at one of the
settings.  This really had to be big.  As we ate, there was a little small
talk but what I noticed the most was the look the boys kept giving each
other.  Kathy and I used to enjoy trying to guess who was going to be the
spokesperson at times like this.  She usually got it right.  My guess for
this event was Frank.  I wasn't disappointed.

"Dad, you know we started practice already," Frank said with a very calm
tone.

"Mmmmm, and when do you practice; during gym class?" I tried to play it
straight.

"Dad, you know we can't practice then.  It takes more time and not all the
guys have the same gym class." Frank talked like he thought I really didn't
know and was educating me.  "We practice after school.  We don't get home
until just before you, most of the time."

"Sounds like a full day.  Are you boys going to be able to do sports and
handle your academic load?"

"Yeah, that's no problem," Frank commented and then looked at Sean for
back-up.  When Sean nodded, Frank continued.

"'Course it'd be a lot easier if we didn't have ta do like we did today and
wait around to bum a ride from somebody."

Okay.  Now we were getting to the real reason for the setup.

"I thought the school ran buses for he athletes.  Why couldn't you ride the
bus home like normal?"

"No, Mr. G," Sean joined the conversation.  "That's only when we have a
real game, or a track meet.  The buses are to take the kids from the school
to wherever we have ta go.  They don't ever take us home.  We gotta figure
that out on our own."

"Sean, Dad's funnin' with ya.  He knows the school doesn't give us rides.
Right, Dad?"  Michael was now part of the conversation.

"What makes you think I'm funnin' with ya?"

"C'mon, Dad.  You been doin' that with me and Frank for along time.  We
knew it but never said anything; that's all.  You're good at keepin' a
straight face, but your eyes give it away.  Mom taught us how to read your
eyes when we were real little.  When you're shittin' around with us, your
eyes always have this look like when somebody's havin' a good time.
Yours're like that now."

Sean managed to get this dumbfounded look on his face as he looked back and
forth between me and the boys.  Sean just couldn't believe that I'd do
something like that to them.  Sean looked at us long enough that the boys
started laughing, which got me going, too.

"Dad," Frank tried to speak with a straight face, "one of 'ems got ta get a
license so we can have transportation.  Eric needs a ride, too."

"Ohhhhhhh, I seeeee, said the innocent parent," I responded.  "This whole
thing tonight has been to butter me up to agree to take one of you guys
down for a driving test.  Is that it?"

"No!" Mike answered quickly.  "You need to take me and Sean, not just me."
That was enough to get me laughing.  Did Mike really think I was going to
just turn him loose, all by himself, with a vehicle with the other boys in
that vehicle?  He'd be trying to work some philosophical question in his
head and run every red light between home and school.

"You know, neither of you has had much experience.  We haven't even tried
going through the driving course down the street where you get tested.  Do
you think you could parallel park that Cherokee?"

'Don't matter," Mike answered.  "The book says they took that part off the
test."

"Well, I think I need to think about this.  Maybe this weekend we can try
the course and, if you do okay with that, I'll give it some serious
consideration.  Okay?"  Boy, did Mike and Sean ever look disappointed.

"Of course, how well you guys can take care of me during the week might
influence my decision."

"What d'ya mean by taking caring of you?" Mike asked.

"Like tonight.  It was nice to walk in and smell dinner cooking and have a
nice cold drink to help me relax before dinner.  A nice back rub after
dinner might influence me some."

"That's blackmail," Frank called out.

"Maybe," I responded, "but it's a nice form of blackmail . . . at least for
me."

The boys started making a believer of me Tuesday afternoon when they called
letting me know they had to have some sports equipment.  Frank needed
cleats, athletic supports with cups, and a new glove.  Sean needed some
brand of running shoes I had never heard of, but they assured me Sports
Authority carried them, and running shorts from practice.  Mike decided he
wanted to go along and try out the running shorts, saying something about
splitting them up the side.  I decided to work that out later.  The
surprise was with Eric.  He needed three new swimsuits.  I was trying to
figure out why his mother couldn't take him to the store to purchase swim
suits when the boys told me he had to have Speedos; issue explained.

The coaches knew what they were doing when they sent us to Sports
Authority.  Finding Frank's cleats and personal gear was a breeze.  The
only change I made was to insist on two pairs of cleats.  I didn't tell the
boys I called the school before coming home and found out what kind of game
schedule they followed.  With back to back games he didn't need to be
wearing sweat soaked shoes and messing up his feet.  The same rule held for
Sean and his running shoes.  Sean also got four pairs of running shorts and
some personal support gear.  That left me with one that had to try on
Speedos and one that wanted sexy shorts.  I decreed that we would take a
break for supper before continuing.

Following supper, spiced with fifteen dozen suggestions about how Eric's
new Speedos should fit and what should be accented, I told the boys to head
back to the store and start looking around.  I asked Mike to stay with me
so we could talk for a minute.  With a look of trepidation from Mike and
the expected jibes from the boys, he and I were alone.

"Dad," Mike sounded hesitant, "am I in trouble or somethin'?"

"I don't know.  Is there something you want to tell me?"  I couldn't
resist.

"Da-ad, why do you always do that?"

"I'm a parent.  I'm supposed to say that so you can confess whatever you
think you should confess."  Michael rolled his eyes back and I just looked
at him and laughed.

"Actually, there's something I know you wanted to do and I thought you
might like to do it without the other guys hanging around and possible
giving you a hard time.  C'mon, kiddo; let's go."

Mike wanted to ask me where we were going, but I didn't give him much of a
chance.  I stood and headed down the mall with him right behind me.  We
walked past a kiosk for the Piercing Pagoda, but the attendant looked like
a high school girl.  I wanted a higher comfort level with whoever I was
going to let pierce his ear and I doubted that he would want one of his
school-mates doing the job.

We walked into a couple of the jewelry stores, but they didn't do
piercings.  For some reason, everyone wanted to direct me back to the
Piercing Pagoda.  The third jewelry store we walked in had a lady who
looked to be about my age and she had a nice calm demeanor that made me
more comfortable.  When I asked about the piercing she advised us that they
could do it but I would have to sign some release and disclosure papers.
The paper qualification alone made me more comfortable.

Mike looked at earrings while I reviewed the papers.  He actually looked
like he was a combination of excited that I would let him do this, and
embarrassed at anyone seeing what he was doing.  It was really funny.  The
sales representative, Mrs. Morrison, took the time to explain the quality
gold he needed to look for and why he didn't want to get something of a
lower quality.  I got an education when I found out there were different
types of earrings for men that were considered more appropriate for
different occasions.  It was easy enough to guess that the cost of this
little venture had risen substantially.  Of course, why should this be any
different than anything else the boys got into?

We looked at different earrings and I let Mike pick out what he wanted.
Mrs. Morrison was excellent at her job and was able to lead Mike to what he
would need and something he liked.  He wound up with three pairs of
earrings with one being part of a set that included a necklace.  The combo
set was some kind of white bone that looked like bleached disks from a
small animal.  Actually, they looked rather masculine and good with his
blond hair and what was left of his tan.  It was going to take a few
minutes to get him pierced and make sure there were no problems so I left
him to check on the other boys.

Walking into the store, I heard the boys before I saw them.  They weren't
doing anything bad, it was just the sort of giggling and laughter that told
me something was up.  I spotted them standing in front of the fitting room
door.  Frank and Sean had their backs to me which said that Eric was in the
fitting room.  It was a no-brainer to guess they were giving Eric a hard
time about the Speedos, or so I thought.

Without saying anything to the boys, I walked up behind Frank and Sean to
look over their shoulders and see what was going on.  When I looked, I
turned around and walked about ten feet away.  Of course, by then all three
boys knew I had looked.  Two boys broke out into even more raucous laughter
while the third, poor Eric, turned beet red.  My biggest problem was trying
to keep a straight face.  It took only a quick look at poor Eric for me to
know I had to walk back over to them quickly.

"Uh, Eric?  Is that the suit the swim wears for practice or meets?"

"No, sir," Eric answered very meekly. "I got those over here on the bench.
We picked out three suits like you said."  Eric looked at me, his
nervousness very apparent.  "These are kinda more private like."

"More private like, eh?" I really wasn't too sure what to say and was still
fighting to suppress my own laughter.  Frank and Sean weren't even trying
to suppress theirs.

"You know, son, I think I would suggest that those be very private.  Are
you aware that you're showing more than you're covering?  I can even see
the dimples in your butt cheeks."

"That's 'cause I'm flexin' 'em.  See?"  Eric definitely gave me the show.
The new show didn't do anything to help Frank and Sean quiet down any,
either.

"You know, Eric, I think most people would look at those and say they look
like a white thong.  Are you going to walk out here wearing that,
especially considering you don't have another stitch on?"

"No way!  Uncle Rick, you're not gonna make me walk out there wearin' just
this, are ya?  I mean, I wanted ta get this for, like, you know, special
occasions and such.  I wouldn't wear this out in public.  Least ways, not
around here."  God, did the boy think it was okay to wear that thing
anywhere?  That thong just screamed 'rape my sweet little ass'!

"I'll take it off, Uncle Rick.  I just thought that maybe, it might be fun
ta have in case there was someone special around and I might want ta wear
it ta send a message or somethin'.  I was just gonna wear it in places
where it might be okay or at your house."  The boy had such a pathetic look
on his face, I felt sorry for him.

"Where do you think you were going to keep it?  I hope you didn't plan on
showing that thing to your mom or grandmother."

"Frank was gonna keep it for me.  Please?  Actually, I got the idea from
Mikey; he wanted one, too.  We both wanted 'em in white; that looks best
with our tans."

"Eric, get dressed please so we can go home."

For some reason I wasn't a bit surprised to find out that Michael had put
the idea in the kid's head.  Funny thing, he did look incredibly hot
wearing a thong.  He looked so hot that I'd have to hire a bodyguard any
time he went out.  My main objection, of course, was I didn't want him
wearing it anywhere that someone who knew him would see it and he'd start
having trouble at school.  The boys may engage in gay sex, and even be gay,
but all four of them had a masculine appearance.  Soon as those thoughts
ran through my mind, Michael walked in wearing his new earring and
necklace.  God, help me, please!

                                           * * * *

It was not only an eventful week, but an exhausting week.  The boys had
practice every afternoon. Mother and I ran around trying to keep up with
them.  Then, there were the meets and game on Saturday.  Mother made part
of Frank's game and Eric's meet.  I made Frank's game and part of Sean's
meet.  Starting out tired on Saturday only helped me decide that someone
was going to get a license before I collapsed from exhaustion.

The house was quiet enough Saturday evening that I knew the boys were also
tired.  After the day's activities, I took everyone, including my mother
and sister, for barbeque.  I don't think anyone was in the mood to cook.
Eric went home with his mother, over his protests, and my boys were with
me. The four of us found the hot tub.  Within a few minutes, each of them
was leaving for a hot shower.  Their comments of wanting to rest and do
nothing were unusual.

Waiting to give the boys enough time for their showers, I decided it was my
turn.  Losing track of time, I hadn't realized how long I had been in the
hot tub.  When I climbed out and tried to stand, my legs felt rubbery.
Maybe it was time for me to get some rest.  Turning on the stereo, I
decided to use just the night light.  Resetting the shower head to a full
pulse, I braced my hands against the wall and leaned over to enjoy it.  I
jumped when I felt something touch my back.  Turning, I was surprised to
find Frank standing in the shower with me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean ta scare ya.  I remember when we were little we used
to get in the shower with you and you let us wash your back." He spoke with
a look in his eyes that was almost pleading.  His use of the words 'little'
and 'used to' didn't escape me either.  I guessed that someone wanted
something, and it wasn't material.

"You didn't scare me, son, just surprised me. I can remember, too, when you
were little you liked to get in the shower with me.  You liked for me to
bathe you.  When I did you'd relax to the point of feeling like a limp
ragdoll in my arms."

He didn't answer me; he just continued to look at me as he put the soap in
his palm and spread it over my chest.  We continued to look into one
another's eyes.  He spread the soap over my chest, upper arms and stomach.
He didn't reach down low or even suggest that he might.  When I put my arms
around his shoulders, he just leaned into me.  He took a deep breath and
sighed as I felt his arms wrap around my waist.  I held him for a few
moments and then, began to bathe him.  He was my boy again, for now.

We got out of the shower when the water started getting cool.  Walking into
the bedroom, he didn't even hint that he thought about going to his own
room.  When I lay down, I held the covers up and he didn't hesitate to lay
down next to me.  Cuddling in close, he placed his head on my shoulder and
rolled part way onto his side.  I knew the position was to give me access
to his back.  Frank always loved to have his back rubbed.

"Frank, is something bothering you, son?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"No, no problems," was his simple answer.

"Mmmmm, my guess then is that my man-child wants to be my boy again for a
little while and be pampered.  Is that right?"

I felt the quick, short breaths and the shudder of his body as he laughed.
I had guessed correctly.  He looked up at me and grinned just before he
shifted and climbed on top of me.  He lay his head on my chest.

"Remember how we always liked to lay on top of you?" The melancholy tone
was definitely in his voice.  "You always felt so warm.  Me and Mikey used
ta laugh 'cause the hair on your chest tickled us.  I liked ta lay here and
turn my head so I could hear your heart.  It always had kind of a soft
thumping sound while it beat, and I could feel it; it felt nice."

There was no need for me to say anything at the moment.  He lay there
listening to my heart beat while I ran one hand over his back.  Given the
extra energy I had to expend supporting his weight, he shouldn't have had
any trouble hearing the thumping sounds; my heart was pounding.  The other
hand, I ran the fingers through his hair.  He didn't move; he lay totally
relaxed.  Something else I noticed, he wasn't getting an erection.  This
wasn't something physical for him; it was purely emotional.  He wanted to
feel loved.  I thought about what I used to do to him when he got in these
moods.

I waited a few minutes while he relaxed and I continued to rub his back.
He'd squirm around a little to change his position, but that was just to
get comfortable.  When I thought he'd been pampered enough, I put his arms
next to his body and rolled him over and then, under me.  Moving his arms
out at a ninety degree angle to his body, I pinned them down to the bed by
holding them at the upper arm.  I lay between his legs with my chest over
his stomach.  Placing my elbows on the mattress near his sides, my arms
supported my weight. I looked up at him and smiled.  He looked at me for a
couple of minutes and you could see the look of understanding when the
light bulb came on.

"Nooo. Daaad, no.  Don't do what you're thinkin'.  Please, no."  While he
begged me not to, his laughs said he hoped I did.

Moving up very slowly to give him more time to beg me, I stuck my chin out
and lowered it towards his left nipple.  I used to do this to them when
they were little and both boys were known to lose control they'd laugh so
hard.  Not having shaved since morning, my chin was like extra-fine
sandpaper.  I brushed my chin back and forth over his sensitive nipple.

"Oh GAAHHD!  Don't'!  Please, no!  OOOhhh . . .uuuunnngghhh . . .mmmmpphhh
. .  .nooo," he whimpered.  I stopped and began to lick and then suckle his
nipple.

"OOOOHHH, GAAAHHD! . . .Yeah! . . .Mmmmppphh . . .uuunnnhhh . . .uuunnhh
. .  .jeeez . . .oooohhhh fuck . . .yeeaaah.  No! . . Don't! . . .OOOhhhh,
not fair!"

He couldn't seem to make up his mind.  First, he hollered 'no' when I ran
my bearded chin over his nipple.  Then, he hollered 'yes' when I licked and
suckled his nipple.  Then, just because I moved over to the other nipple,
he started in all over again.  Laughing to myself, I didn't even think of
stopping as I continued to tease and lick his nipples.  Eventually, I even
nibble on them a little.

Poor boy.  I felt him squirming under me.  His legs were flying all over
the place and he managed to kick most of the covers off of us.  When he
sounded like he was getting winded I decided to give him a break.  I
stopped playing with his nipples.  When I felt him wrap his legs around me,
I bent down and gave him a big raspberry right on his belly.  He giggled
worse than when he was eight years old.  By this time I had released his
arms and moved my hands under his shoulders.  His hands held my head and he
wasn't even trying to push me away.  Then, I felt him trying to hump into
me.

After giving him another raspberry, I slipped my hands up so his shoulders
lay in my palms.  I pulled myself up and he moaned from the sliding
sensation.  Looking down at him, I could tell his eyes were getting glazed
with the lust he was feeling.  The boy was in heat.  Throwing his head from
side to side, he kept trying to hump into me.  I lifted my weight so that
as he humped up, he barely touched me.  He whimpered his frustration and
need.  When he turned his head to his right again, I leaned down and began
to lick his neck.  He was thrown into a new wave of passion and lust as I
branded him.

"EEEEEEEEEEE . . .AAAHHH . .AAAHHH . . .mmmmm. .oohh . .mmmpphh," he
squealed, barely above a whisper.  He gasped for breath as my tongue
invaded his ear.

"Ohhh, gaahd. . . I gotta . . .I gotta . . .my balls . . .oh gaahd,
please."  A boy in need of release.

He wrapped his arms around my neck and shoulders and tried to pull me down
tight as he humped into me, seeking release.  I continued to tease him by
pressing down with my body and then lifting again.  Slowly, I slid down his
body, kissing and licking him all the way down.  Frank placed both of his
hands on my head and tried to push me down as he whimpered.  I wouldn't
cooperate, causing him to sound out his frustration.  When I was over his
throbbing boyhood, I blew a light stream of cool air over the tip, just
before I swallowed him.  He bounced up off the bed as I kept him in my
throat and swallowed.  Just when he began to settle, I swallowed again.

He moved his legs and wrapped them around my back.  Using his shoulders for
leverage, he arched his body and tried to hump into my mouth.  I released
his tool and sucked one of his boys into my mouth, flicking it around with
my tongue.

"Nooooo, don't . . .stop . . .you let gooo . . .ohhhhh, gaaaaahd . . .my
balls ache . . .I gotta shoot . . .please!"

He whined and whimpered to the point I began to feel sorry for him.  His
hands moved from the bed to my head, grasping the sheets, then my hair.  He
squirmed, looking for the right spot to get the stimulation he now so
desperately needed.  Raking a fingernail over the sensitive lips of his
anal opening, my thumb massaged his perineum.  I left my finger at his
opening; he pushed, trying to impale himself on my finger.  I massaged
harder with my thumb and he reacted.  His breathing came more as gasps as
he continued to flounder around.

Shifting my weight, I again lay between his legs.  This time I let him hump
into me as he whimpered.  While he humped, I nibbled at his side and used
one hand to run my fingernails up and down the back of one thigh.  Frank
went into a frenzy.  I moved up and sucked his left nipple into my mouth.
Flicking the nub with my tongue I listened as he grunted and whined to
himself.  Finally, I bit into his nipple, causing him to cry out.  I felt
his youthful juices coat both of us as I leaned and cradled his head in the
palm of my hands.  As he slowed down, I kissed him gently on the cheek.

"That felt awesome," he told me when his breathing slowed.

When I looked into his eyes, I expected to see that familiar twinkle or
look of laughter and happiness.  His eyes told me that his lust had not
been sated.  I returned to licking his neck and nibbling around his jaw.
He threw his head back and whined.

"Ooohhhh . . .oooohhhh . . .uuunnggghhh . . .mmmmm . . .mmmmm," he
whimpered.

I could still feel his excitement trapped between our bodies.  He had just
experienced a strong orgasm, but he was looking for more.  Keeping my
position, but allowing him enough free movement to squirm, I continued to
tease him.  I felt his legs bouncing around my sides and could tell he was
trying to bring them up.  He placed a hand on my shoulder, the other on my
head, and pushed.  Curious to see where he wanted to go, I let him move me
down his body.  Soon, I felt him trying to lift his legs over my shoulders;
I let him.

With one leg over my shoulder, he reached down between our bodies.  It was
obvious what he was reaching for but I was too far down for him to grasp
me.  When I felt him getting close, I shifted out of his reach.  He whined
and tossed his head around, frustrated.  I bent over again and plunged my
tongue into his right ear.  He grabbed me, pulling me close with a strength
that surprised me.  Looking into his eyes there was a pleading that
couldn't be expressed in words.

Brushing his hair back, I leaned down and gently kissed his sweaty forehead
as I slid both of his legs over my shoulders.  Positioning myself, we
stared into one another's eyes as I entered him.  Passing his sphincter
muscle, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as
I pushed in gently; stopping only when I had no more to give.  I waited for
him to get accustomed to the intrusion.  When he opened his eyes and his
look said he was ready.

There was no rush.  This was supposed to be love, not lust.  I long-stroked
him at a gentle pace.  With each withdrawal he moaned.  With each
penetration, he moaned and whimpered as I massaged his prostate.  Shifting
my angle slightly, I was able to better massage his prostate and he began
to continuously moan.  When I felt myself about to lose control, I stopped
and leaned down to suckle his nipples.  It didn't take long for him to have
his second orgasm.  As he shot his fluids, coating both of our chests, I
felt his anal muscles contracting around my hard cock.  I had to close my
eyes and focus only on his sounds to avoid losing control.

As he recovered from his orgasm, I moved his leg from my left shoulder to
my right shoulder.  Carefully, I shifted to lay behind him.  He pushed back
against me; I wrapped an arm over his chest and pulled him into me.  His
right leg lay on top of my legs to give me better access to his body.
Rotating my hips, he whined through gritted teeth as he stretched out as
far as he could.  I moved with him, arching his back, and began to lovingly
long-stroke him.

His head lay on my left arm, which I wrapped back over his chest to hold
him.  As he squirmed, with my right hand, I raked my fingernails down the
full length of his torso and on down to the back of his thigh.  The boy was
lost in a world of teenage lust as I worked his body.  He surprised me how
quickly he had another orgasm.  It wasn't as strong as the previous orgasm,
but the feeling coursed through his body just the same.  We lay together,
coated in our juices and sweat.  Man and boy becoming as one.

The pleasure I derived from watching him cannot be put into words, only
felt.  The boy surrendered himself to me unconditionally.  He trusted me to
not hurt him, but give him the most pleasure possible.  Eventually, I did
have to give into my body's demands and I gave him all my body would allow.
I wrapped him in my arms as he held onto my left arm, moaning his pleasure.
When it was over and I started to pull out, he reached back and pulled me
back.

"No, stay with me.  It's nice," he whispered.

I lay holding the boy, taking the opportunity to love him and just admire
him.  It was a memory to cherish.  The boy wanted to be held and loved.  I
had to appreciate every moment for I knew that tonight I held the boy,
tomorrow the man-child would return.

End Ch Thirty-Five.

To Be Continued

Comments welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com