Date: Mon, 04 Nov 2002 17:59:35 +0000
From: Ganymede
Subject: Sixty Nine Chapter 11.

'69' by Ganymede


WARNING:


This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual
acts between a man and a MINOR boy. 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!


As a friend recently said: "Everyone has the right to
fantasy. No one has the right to censor an imagination, or
dreams." With that in mind, know that this story is not true!
Further, it is not intended to promote illegal acts against
minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each
other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It
is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. If the sub-
ject of man/boy love 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!

By downloading this story:

"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties
of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a
minor and are entitled to have access to material intended
for mature, responsible members of society capable of making
decisions about the content of documents they wish to
read...."

Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is
entirely accidental. The sexual acts described in the story
are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these
acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with
minors.

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede.
A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoy-
ment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The
story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for
access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires
payment either directly or indirectly.

Finally, credit where it is due. My sincere thanks to two
friends whose comments have been very helpful.



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Chapter 11.



Our first afternoon in California was an afternoon
that would be difficult for me to forget. It wasn't everyday
that I went around stark naked with my dick flopping against
my legs as I chased after a sprightly ten-year-old boy. In
fact, it was the first time that I did anything like that. It
was a day of firsts. I could not remember having so much fun.
It was like a perpetual starting grid, my engine growling
every time Ty glanced at me. And if he kept looking at me
with those big blue eyes of his, my excitement increased, all the
way to the banshee wail when tachometers went into the red-
line, the flag waving, the explosion of adrenaline that
heightened every sense. If he as much as touched me, it was
no different to the scream of tires when a couple of dozen cars
begin to race. It was like getting off, only better, a lot better. The
ultimate orgasm, and all I had to do was look at him and
remember what we'd done behind the sand hills.

It was an unforgettable day. He was ten years old, blond,
sexy, and as naked as a jay bird. A drop-dead fucking gor-
geous boy, and he was mine! All mine! And I almost never
cussed, at least not out aloud. Being around Ty changed all
that. I wanted to shout `FUCK'! I seldom used the `F' word in
his presence but that did not mean I did not think it. In
fact, I wanted to fuck him more than I could stand. Deep down
inside, lust reigned supreme. I found myself looking at his
fabulous body all the time, mostly at his little butt. It was
like two squashed together melons. I fantasized, imagining
what it would be like to be inside him. Fucking him was all I
thought about that afternoon. I couldn't think of anything else
I'd enjoying doing as much as that. Being inside him, inside
the womb of his body, sharing his heat, being part of him.

The only problem with my fantasy was that Ty had the
opposite opinion, but I planned on changing his mind in the
near future. I only wished I knew how to do it. So far he was
pretty damned adamant that his butt was off limits until I
pulled one out of the Nascar hat. I had a few ideas how to do
that but all of them needed money, lots of money. More money
than the team had, more money than it was likely to have for
the foreseeable future.

And the setting for my on-going, gut-wrenching lust? A
cloudless sky, long green-blue waves breaking endlessly in a
flurry of white foam and a deafening roar on the beach.
Seagulls wheeled overhead, sometimes coming so close that
if one happened to crap at an inopportune time a person could
be seriously injured.

One thing I learned within the first few minutes of
entering the water was that surfing was not as easy as it
looked. Tyler Kincaid was very good at surfing, or so it
seemed to me. The brown-skinned little runt made it look
easy. My experience with body surfing was limited to watch-
ing the Travel Channel when there was nothing else to watch
on cable television, so not drowning was pretty much a sign
of excellence. I tried it once and got dumped upside down,
head buried into the swirling sand, thinking I might never
come up for air.

The beach behind the kart track was the perfect place
for the four of us, all naked sun worshippers. Two boys and
two men without a care in the world, even though I had no idea
how Ty and I would manage to survive the next few days on a
couple of dollars and change. Perhaps it was possible to sur-
vive on lust alone? And I lusted after Ty, lusted like a
priest after a virgin altar boy, except that Ty was no angel
and the only cloth I'd taken was an oily rag to clean the
grease off an engine. For that matter, I was not at all sure
about the virgin part. Not that it mattered. Who needed food
anyway?

We were alone on that strip of yellow sand beach for as
far as the eye could see. Well almost alone, for in the far
distance I could see a few people riding surfboards. Having
Heekin and his nephew close by really didn't bother me, they
were naked as well, but those distant surfers,... Even after
I had dressed again I still kept an eye on them just in case
they ventured further up the beach. The last thing I wanted
to do was to explain to a cop why I was running around naked
with a ten-year-old boy who was unrelated to me. At least,
Heekin had the close relative thing going in his favor.

Luckily, Pierce and Brandon seemed to be intent on
ignoring us, and I was more than happy to reciprocate the
favor. The glances I managed to get were unconvincing.
Were they anything more than friends? Okay, they were very
close to each other, as close as Ty and I were, but not so
close that they were doing something that should have been
done behind the sand hills.

Unlike Ty, I sunburned easily, at least on skin that
never saw the sun. I had a `big white butt', according to the
bratty boy who tagged along and was never further away than a
shout. He got his jollies from making fun of me. I also had
what Ty referred to with the peculiar mixture of boyish mirth
that is partly derision and partly superiority, and likely
to get his butt whacked if he persisted, as a `trucker tan',
but which more often than not came out as a `fucker tan'. I
had to admit there was some truth to it even though I usually
left the truck driving to Bobbie and the other members of the
team. The 'fucking' too, for that matter. I hoped that was going
to change before much longer.

Either by virtue of youth or genes, Ty had skin that
could be exposed all day long and merely turn a darker shade
of brown. He may have spent the first ten years of his life
in a dump but he was a lucky little bastard, in some ways at
least. He had a body to die for, flawless skin, and a face
that made you look twice, and keep looking long after it was
rude to stare. Stripped, he was a real heart-stopper, at
least as I cared to think about it. I would have been willing
to die for Ty Kincaid.

He was beautiful, yes; drop-dead, dick-stiffening gor-
geous even, but not like a girl. He was all boy and he had
the dick to prove it. It was true even though I teased him
about the size of it. His dick was the perfect size for his body,
not too big, not too small, just right. It belonged on him.
Every time I looked at it I drooled. The tip looked even more blue
in the sunlight, pushed up like a little English policeman's
helmet, like one of those bobbies that were sometimes on the
Travel Channel. I like the way it bounced around when he ran.
I couldn't see much of his balls. They were so shrivelled up
from being in the water. It was as if he didn't have anything
there. Just a dick, a wonderful little hairless boy-dick,
bouncing around like no one's business. There was a reason why
I kept licking my lips, and it wasn't because of the salt water.

No doubt there had been others who had seen Ty naked
besides me, but I preferred to think otherwise. It was my
private show, a naked exhibitionist with an audience of one.
He seemed to get a little bit browner every time I looked at
him. My skin on the other hand went ruddy after less than an
hour, skin coloring that would have to be stretched a consid-
erable distance to be called a sun tan.

It was a good thing that I left the water when I did.
Any longer and I risked not only getting sunburned, but com-
promising myself with Ty in front of two people who were
still little more than strangers. Sure, Heekin and his
nephew were also naked, and it was more than likely they were
gay as well, but there was no way to tell for certain. They
spent a lot of time wrestling and standing very close
together, close enough to rub their dicks together. Seeing
that was hot, amusing, and as unsettling as it was reassur-
ing. They did not seem to mind if we saw them, although I
made a conscious effort not to stare. Perhaps because of them
I felt a little less inhibited, which was good because Ty
flirted openly with me. He seemed to be shamelessly flaunt-
ing his naked body even when Heekin and Brandon were closer
than I would have liked. Sometimes it was all I could do to
stop myself from making a grab for his very public private
parts. Keeping my erection out of sight became task number
one. It kept bobbing above the waves, like a flagpole that
wanted to be seen. I tried to keep a respectable distance
between us and them, far enough away that intimate details
could not be discerned.

I wasn't the only one with a stiff dick. I think Ty sported a
perpetual three-inch woody, looking less like a surfer and
more like a pint-sized blond-headed devil. His favorite
trick, mine too for that matter, was catching a wave by div-
ing forward just before the crest reached him. I had no idea
how he managed to do it, but somehow he guided himself
through the water until he rammed into me. I lived for those
few seconds when he hit me. Naked body slammed against naked
body. In the resulting melee of arms and legs, he groped my
groin, grabbing whatever came to hand. Sometimes, I managed
to grapple with him and fend him away. Sometimes, if I was
quick and lucky, I even managed to get a handful of steel-
hard boy-cock. There wasn't much to grab hold of in the
balls-department. More often than not he was able to effect a
successful escape while I struggled through the water after
him, complaining loudly. We both knew that I had no chance of
catching up with him, not when he had grown up on Daytona
Beach. The number of times I had been to the ocean over the
years could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

Finally, when I was risking an uncomfortable night if
I persisted in the sun, or getting one or both of us arrested
for lewd and lascivious acts with a minor, I made my way back
to the beach and covered my exposed parts. I spent the rest
of the afternoon drinking Heekin's beer and watching Ty dem-
onstrate his prowess on Brandon's surfboard, and wondering
where Heekin and his nephew had disappeared to. They were
gone for nearly forty minutes.

I was still some distance from being drunk when it came
time to leave. We had over an hour to get ready for the din-
ner reservation at 7.30 p.m. so there was no reason to hurry.
Still, I did my best to keep up with Heekin's fire-engine-red
Porsche. I was jealous, green with envy, begrudging his
obvious success. It would have been nice to trade the Fire-
bird in for something made in Germany. With luck, we'd return
to Tallahassee to find the car had been stolen.

The important thing was leaving enough distance
between our cars that Heekin would not be tempted to race me.
If he did, I might as well pull over to the side of the road
and take a leak. It took every sickly horsepower in the aging
Taurus just to do keep up with him, and then some. My
efforts, including frequent encouragement to the engine to
hold together and cursing every few seconds at Ford's V-6
glue-factory ponies, provided amusement to my giggling pas-
senger. I began to wish I could patent that boy-giggle. It
was music to my ears. In return, Ty kept up an amusing com-
mentary on how I should approach the `race', which he
insisted on calling it. It was not much of a race, more like
a sprint kart match-racing against a shifter kart. There was
no race! Finally, Heekin put his foot down hard on the gas
pedal and disappeared in the distance. We continued on to our
motel, enjoying the sun and view with the car windows wound
all the way down.

The `Sunbird Motel' was hardly my first choice of
accommodations, but it was the only place I could afford. It
was a run-down two-story `U' shaped building. At least it was
well-located, being across the road from Ventura's main
beach and next door to that icon of American culture,
McDonalds. Our room was on the second floor, overlooking the
McDonalds dumpster, but it was on the end closest to the
stair, which meant that it was furthest from the ocean view.

As soon as I pulled into the parking space Ty jumped
out. He galloped ahead, taking the steps two at a time. He
was waiting for me at the door to our room, grinning.

"What's tha big rush, Ace?"

"I need ta go."

"Ya need ta go? Hell, it was me who drunk all the beer,
boy. I'm dyin' fer a piss. Yer gonna have ta wait a while."

"Cain't ya hold it a bit longer? I need ta go somethin'
awful," Ty said testily even though he was smiling. "I gotta
bladder ready to fuckin' burst."

"Hell," I cursed as the key jammed in the door lock.
"Ya think they'd use them things with tha card swipes."

I thought about delaying a few seconds, maybe even
grabbing him around the waist to see if he pissed his pants.

"Hurry up fer God's sake!" He was becoming impatient.
I fiddled with the key, turning it in the wrong direction.

"Don't seem to work," I said. "Maybe it's tha wrong
key. I'm sure it's tha one they gave me at tha front desk."

"Sheez. Hurry up, Terry. I'm gonna pee ma pants any
second."

"Just hold ya horses, Ace. Anyways, I'm hittin' tha
can first," I said.

Finally, when his expression was getting tense, I got
the key to work and reluctantly pushed the door open. Ty
ducked under my arm and bolted past me, shouting something
that probably shouldn't have been shouted where someone
could hear him. I chased after him, pushing the door closed
behind me. By the time I reached the cramped bathroom, Ty was
trying to unfasten the cord of his swim shorts. With his nar-
row waist there was no way that he could force his shorts
past his hips without undoing the criss-cross lacing at the
front. I laughed and pushed him to the side, making room in
front of the toilet. I yanked open the zipper of my jeans,
poked around inside to relocate my briefs, and hauled my fire
hose out. Almost as soon as I started to urinate, Ty shoved
at me. It made the stream splash across the seat. Some even
splattered on the vinyl-tiled floor before I managed to
regain control.

"Ya gonna die fer that, Ace," I laughed.

"I gotta pee too, so make room," Ty squealed.

By then his shorts were at his knees. He urinated like
a little boy, standing with his legs apart. The funny thing
was that even though we'd had sex a couple of times and show-
ered together, I still hadn't seen him urinate. Like a little
boy, he stood there holding his boyhood out as he strained
down. Apparently, it was a job for two hands, either that or
an excuse to play with himself. I smiled, looking down,
watching the initial hesitant dribble suddenly become a
steady flow. Until then, I had never considered the act of
urinating to be an erotic experience, but seeing Ty standing
beside me directing his yellow arc into the stained porce-
lain bowl sent a powerful surge through me. He oozed sex like
cream in Little Debbie cup-cake. He manipulated the flow
with the skill of a fireman putting out a fire, making pre-
cise circles in the water, then trying to write his name. It
was amusing to watch, but even more amusing was that it was
coming from a penis that was probably going to get hard from
all the attention it was getting. Ty's boy-dick, that pre-
cious boyish part of him that I was in love with, had become
such an important part of my life that I could not take my
eyes away. It defined perfection in the same way that a high
performance engine did. High compression, blue-printed, per-
fectly balanced. It was all about form and function. Where
his urine exited through the tiny slit in the blue-hued tip
it was like a thin ribbon. A few inches out, it rotated and
thickened almost as if the pressure had diminished. It was a
joy to watch. I could get hard just watching a boy piss.

"Man, I sure needed that!" Ty sighed loudly as his
bladder emptied.

The stream slowed and became a trickle. He stroked his
penis absently, coaxing out the last dribble. Finally, still
using fingers from both hands, he shook it to and fro, slap-
ping it against his thighs, even bouncing it onto his lower
belly. A few droplets were shaken loose. One of them landed
on my penis. Ty saw it happen and smirked crudely.

"Ya done flippin' that thing ya call a dick, Ace?"

"Yeah, I'm done." He grinned, still fingering his
penis. Was it my imagination or had it already begun to
lengthen?

"I oughta make ya lick that off, Ace," I said haugh-
tily.

"Gross!"

"Yeah, well ya oughta be more careful."

"What's it taste like?"

"Piss? Hell, I don't know, Ace. I don't go `round
drinkin' tha stuff. I much prefer drinkin' beer. Ya wanna
taste mine?" I suggested crudely.

"All ya want is yer cock sucked," Ty challenged,
smirking back.

"And yer just tha cute little cock sucker to do it
too."

"In yer dreams."

No matter what he said, his tone said something
entirely different, but maybe it was my imagination going
into top gear. It wasn't just friendly banter back and forth.
I had been feeling rambunctious all day. Now, I was just
plain horny. My brood pleasure surged, getting awfully close
to the red line.

"Ha! My dreams, or yers, horn puppy?"

Ty rolled his eyes and gave me the `you're dumber than
you look' look.

"I guess we better get our butts in tha shower," I said
after a while. It was obvious he was not about to up the
ante.

As Ty stepped out of his swim shorts, I opened the cur-
tain to the shower and turned on the water. The shower was a
step away from filthy, but when there's no money to pay the
bill you don't complain. It took only a few seconds before
the water was hot, which surprised me as much as it had that
morning. I was used to lukewarm showers when I stayed in
cheap motels. When I turned back to him he was naked, still
fondling himself. By then, his penis was half erect.

I decided then, for what had to be the one-hundredth
time, that a naked ten-year-old boy surely had to be the most
beautiful sight imaginable. If he was playing with his dick,
so much the better. I stared at him, taking in his slender
body. I could have stared at him all night and died from cold
when the hot water ran out.

He was brown, beautifully tanned except for a paler
area in the middle section and even that was darker than it
had been a few hours earlier. His ribs stuck out, not like a
starving child, but he was definitely leaner than most boys
his age. He was not skinny, luckily. I didn't like skinny
kids, or fat kids either for that matter. He was built
exactly the way I liked, an energetic boy who consumed only
as many calories as he used in exercise. There was a shape to
his body that made it look as if it had been purposely shaped
to excite a man. His muscles were very visible, enhanced
under the harsh Walmart spotlights that had been placed
above the vanity in some misguided attempt at redecorating.
There was a basis for a solid six-pack when he was a few
years older, just as Heekin had observed. A definite ridge of
muscle from his groin up to his sternum or whatever it was
called, was interrupted only by his indented very-lickable
navel. It was the original belly button, although much more
intricate than the button on my jeans. His flat slim belly
tapered gracefully to his groin, showing prominent veins
where his slender yet strong thighs joined his lower abdo-
men. And then there was the culmination of his body. The boy
dick belonging to Ty Kincaid! I still didn't know his middle
name. It made me think that all of my life to date had been
wasted. I had been wandering aimlessly, not understanding
what I needed for fulfillment, not until I met Ty.

"Did anyone ever tell ya,... yer real sexy?" I croaked.

"Yeah,... You." He grinned, slightly obscenely I would
have said if anyone asked. "Ya like what ya see, Terry?"

"Yeah, I like. I like very much. Ya got a real nice
body, Ace."

"I ain't too skinny fer ya?" He moved back a few
inches. His voice trembled.

"Nah. I ain't no expert, but as fer as I'm concerned
yer built just right fer a boy. Hey, ya wanna shower together,
sexy?"

"Duh!" He grinned suddenly. "Only I gotta tell ya,
there ain't no way I'm messin' `round tonight, Terry."

"Why not?"

"'cause I'm hungrier `n hell."

I laughed. "I guess yer a growin' boy, even if yer dick
ain't."

Ty screwed up his face, giving me a scornful look that
said `dumber than hell' better than words could.

"Okay, it's a deal. I'll behave myself, but ya can skip
tha shower if ya wanna watch TV or somethin'," I offered.

"No way, Jose. Showerin' with you is whole lot more fun
than showerin' by myself."

"Really? Ya mean that? You was pretty grumpy this mor-
nin'."

"I'm always grumpy when I wake up." He lowered his
eyes, looking downright seductive. "So ya wanna shower with
me, big boy?"

"Okay!" I almost shouted. "Hop in Ace `n I'll be right
with ya."

I watched him get into the shower, hurriedly shedding
my clothes. Fortunately, he left the curtain open. He
watched me undress, still shamelessly fondling his penis,
not masturbating, merely doing what felt good. He would have
done the same thing even if his penis was limp. It was natu-
ral self-pleasuring that would probably drive most parents
crazy if he did it where they could see him. He smiled hap-
pily. He was obviously enjoying what he was doing and there
was no way I'd ever tell him to stop. Still, I could not help
wondering what was going through his mind as he stared at me.

"Hurry up, old man. We ain't got all day," he said
abruptly when I sat down on the toilet to finish taking off
my jeans.

He moved back to the wall furthest away from the shower
head, grinning brazenly as I clambered over the side of the
bath to join him.

"Ya wash me first, okay," he instructed impatiently.

His voice had the little nervous tremor that seemed to
be there every time he was excited. I was beginning to get
used to that tone of voice, even looking forward to hearing
it. The last time had been when he suggested going into the
sand dunes. His eyes flickered. There was a hint of a smile
on his face. He had said that he wasn't interested in sex-
play, but perhaps he had changed his mind. With that in mind
I wondered where he was headed to, but wherever it was, he
realized that I wanted to go there as well. he stepped
closer, brushing his bare body against me. It was all I could
do not to grab him and hold him tight. As soon as I had
regained enough control not to tremble with excitement I
picked up what was left of the small bar of soap that came
with the room. It didn't do much for making a lather, but it
did make him slippery. And that was enough. When we had show-
ered that morning it had been rushed and we had washed our-
selves quickly because the alternative was to skip
breakfast. Something in the back of my mind said that this
time was going to be very different.

As soon as my hands touched his bare skin I knew then
that I could never go back to showering alone. That one touch
of his bony shoulders was enough. I would always want to wash
him. Sleek, smooth, slippery as an eel, that was Ty. My hands
traveled all over his body, touching places that were
already very familiar, but with the slippery soap took on an
entirely different feel. It was a sensation that was beyond
my imagination. It was not just that he was hairless and
smooth-skinned, although that certainly played a major role.
Under that delicate brown skin was a body of bone and muscle.
I kept thinking of his penis, so soft on the outside, yet
rigid on the inside, and like the rest of him it was always
alive. He squirmed and pressed back against me, visibly
enjoying the experience as much I did. Almost immediately
his penis attained full erection again and stayed there,
unwavering in its stiffness. I marveled at the tiny blue
veins just beneath the surface, the little blue helmet-head
so swollen that the skin was actually shiny. His scrotum was
relaxed, revealing the shape of his testicles although they
were still suspended a long distance from the bottom of his
pouch. They were tiny compared to mine. Little-boy-balls
that were barely big enough to be called balls. Indeed, just
one of my testicles was bigger than everything he had there.

"Yer so sexy," I said softly. My fingers tickled the
end of his penis, flowing around the rounded firm head. He
trembled, tensing even more as my fingers glided down the
stiff shaft. It would not take much for him to have an
orgasm. Just a few minutes at most, perhaps even less from
the way he tensed.

"Behave yerself or we'll be late," Ty chided. He
grinned at me. "It feels nice, getting' washed by someone
else."

"I bet. It feels nice doin' tha washin'," I agreed.

"Can we shower like this from now on?"

"Duh! `n I was thinkin' I'd have ta ask ya."

He laughed and playfully pushed my hand away. I had
been soaping his penis for a while at that point, but it was
obvious to both of us that washing had become an excuse for
rubbing his penis to orgasm.

"Tonight, dude," he promised. "Now, I'm washin ya."

I was not about to say no. The only problem was that
the piece of soap that remained was so thin that I could see
light on the other side.

"We should'a got more soap when they cleaned tha
room," I complained.

Of course, there was no point in complaining to the
manager. His way of dealing with complaints was to say, `the
staff will get to it when they have the time.'

Still, Ty's small hands moved over my body, using what
was left of the soap, providing a massage with surprising
skill. Every time I glanced at him he was grinning.

"Havin' fun?"

"Yeah. Geez, yer hairy enough. Just like a gorilla,
ain't ya?"

"Very funny," I retorted. "Bobbie's got a load more
hair than me, ya know."

"Yeah, but I ain't his,... " Ty hesitated, searching for
the word. He glanced at me awkwardly. I wondered what he had
been going to say. His what?

"No, ya ain't," I said confidently. "'n I'm glad ya
ain't."

I tilted his head back so that I saw his face. He
smiled weakly, a fleeting smile that was gone almost as soon
as it appeared.

"Ty,... "

"Yeah?"

"We're real close fer friends, ain't we?"

"Yeah,... " He swallowed, momentarily glancing away
before meeting my eyes.

"So maybe we're more than friends?" I suggested.

"Maybe,... " He swallowed, almost gulping.

"Ya know,... I like ya a lot, Ace," I began self con-
sciously.

"I figured ya did," Ty murmured. "I like ya too, Terry.
A lot,... okay,... but it don't mean I'm gay, okay," he added
after a moment.

He went back to washing, coming closer and closer to my
crotch. Each time, he veered away at the last moment. He was
learning out to tease, how to prolong my torment. My penis
stayed limp, no doubt waiting for that first intimate con-
tact. I wondered whether I had drunk too much of Heekin's
beer. I didn't feel drunk, just happy.

"Terry?"

"Yeah."

"What we talked about at tha beach? `bout shavin' him?
Ya really gonna do it fer me?"

"No way, Ace."

Ty breathed out. "Yeah, I kinda figured that ya wasn't
into doin' it," he said reluctantly.

"That's right,... `cause it ain't me doin' it, Ace. Yer
doin' it," I laughed. "I reckon ya gotta learn ta shave
sooner or later."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Reckon yer up to it?"

"What if,... I mean I never shaved nuthin' before,
Terry. What if I cut ya or somethin'?"

"Ya ain't plannin' on cuttin' ma dick off are ya?"

"Nope." He giggled. "I'll be real careful, Terry."

"I know that. That's why I'm havin' ya do it. Bein'
close to someone means trustin' `em."

"I can really do that to yer dick?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. So how do I do it?"

I leaned down and picked up the can of shaving cream
from the side of the bath. "Hold out yer hands, Ace."

I squirted a handful of foam into his cupped hands,
stepped out of the torrent of shower water and told him to
rub it over my groin. Grinning, Ty did what he was told. Sud-
denly, my genitals became as slippery as his body had been
when it was soapy. His fingers kneaded my testicles, tugged
my penis, rubbed around my pubis until everything was cov-
ered in foamy lather. Already, he knew how to touch me for
maximum effect, both roughly and gently, providing that sen-
suous mix of sensations that I found highly arousing. He had
magic fingers. I became erect, straining stiff and thick
between his hands. He grinned up at me shamelessly proud of
what he had done.

"Okay, that's enough or you'll have me cummin' all
over ya any second," I said breathlessly.

He grinned and I handed him the razor, one of those
triple blade razors that cost three times the price of any
other razor. It had a new blade, fitted only that morning
when I had to shave off two days' stubble.

"Take it easy till ya get tha hang of it," I
instructed.

"Ya sure ya want me ta do this, Terry? Ya don't have
to,... "

"What I want is fer ya ta suck me off," I smirked. "If
this is what it takes ta get ya to do it, then get busy boy."

Ty hesitated. "Ya don't have ta," he relented. "I'll
do it anyway, Terry." He looked up at me. "Tha hair ain't
that bad."

"Just git ta work, Ace," I grumbled. "It'll grow back
soon enough."

Then, realizing that I had pushed him too far, I
laughed. "I'm just kiddin' with ya. I want ya to do it, Ace.
I always wondered what my dick would look like if it was
bald."

"Ya really want me,... "

"Shave it off, Ace. Besides, there ain't no one but you
who's gonna know."

"What if we go skinny dippin' `gain with `em?"

I shrugged. "It ain't gonna be a problem. Trust me,
Ace. Anyways, it ain't none of their business."

"Okay,... so how do I do it?" Ty asked seriously.

I took hold of his left hand and placed in on my penis,
pulling it down and out of the way. I pointed with my finger
where he should make the first stroke, from my lower belly
onto my groin.

"It's kinda hard," Ty complained after his first
clumsy stroke.

The angle had been wrong and all he had succeeded in
doing was scraping of some of the lather and a few dark
hairs.

"My dick?"

"Duh! Yeah, it's like a baseball bat, but I meant doin'
this."

"Yer angle ain't right, that's why. Kneel down,... like
yer gonna blow me," I teased.

"I will when I'm done," Ty announced boldly. "`cause I
promised ya."

I shook my head. All I had intended to do was to tor-
ment him. I was looking forward to him fulfilling his prom-
ise, but only if he wanted to. If he wanted to do it then I
wanted it to be later, when we had the rest of the night, not
a hurried effort because he thought it was something he had
to do. I wanted it to last, and I wanted to have something to
look forward to. After all, half of any memorable experience
is the anticipation.

"Why not?" He sounded agitated, almost anxious.

"`cause,... I want yer first time to be good. We ain't
spoilin' it by rushin' it."

Ty giggled and sank to his knees. "Okay," he said as he
reached up to take hold of my penis again. "Let's shave this
bad boy."

His second stroke was far more effective if only
because he levered my erection to the side and out of the
way. He made a long pass, going carefully and slowly to
remove a clump of thick hair. He left a trail of pale smooth
skin behind. He glanced up at me for reassurance.

"Okay," I said, nodding. It looked awfully bare. "Now
do tha other side tha same way, Ace."

"I missed some but."

"Yeah ya did. It ain't a problem. Ya can always go back
and git `em later. "

He concentrated on the task at hand, making several
strokes in quick succession. After the fourth or fifth
stroke, my pubis was denuded except for a few stray hairs. It
looked very strange.

"What about yer balls?" he asked. After a second, he
glanced up. "I'll suck `em too, if I get to shave `em."

"Better do `em do too then," I said, wondering if the
skin would itch when the hair began to reappear. That was the
problem with shaving. The hair would start to grow back with
a few days.

"Okay,... "

"Ya know, now we done it, Ace, yer gonna have to shave
it every time we shower."

Yeah?" He sounded much happier than he had been a
minute earlier. His confidence was growing quickly. "Why?"

"'cause the hairs'll start growin' back real fast `n I
plan on gettin' sucked off once a day."

He nodded slightly, hesitantly, smiling for an instant
before his lips clamped and his head lowered quickly. It was
difficult for him, however his fingers scooped up my scro-
tum, fondling the contents. Balls that were so much larger
than his own, that a single one of mine was larger than
everything he had there. His fingers squeezed a little too
hard for comfort and I very nearly yelped. Yet, his almost
massage had the desired effect of encouraging my scrotum to
relax even further.

"Tha skin is so soft, Terry," he observed breathily.
"It feels just like mine, only bigger."

"Ya gonna shave it or not," I asked. He seemed to be
having second thoughts.

"Ya really want me ta?"

Truthfully, I was beginning to enjoy the appearance of
the `shaved look'. As I looked down, all I could see was
smooth hairless skin. He had shaved from my belly to my
groin. Since I didn't have particularly hairy legs, I looked
like a boy again, albeit over-endowed, and if it meant that
Ty would be willing to have oral sex, it was sacrificed in a
good cause.

"Might as well, Ace. There ain't no point in havin'
hairy balls if tha rest is smooth, now is there?"

Ty giggled. "If we shave `em then I'll have ta suck yer
balls too, won't I?" He sounded positively tickled by the
prospect.

"Hm,... yeah, well that's tha idea, ain't it?"

"I suppose ya think they're gonna fit."

. Hm,... I think they will, if ya open real wide. I like
tha idea of seein' ya try."

"Yeah, I thought ya would, Terry," he mocked.

He brought the razor closer, holding it gingerly
between one finger and his thumb. He did a remarkably good
job on his first attempt, barely touching the skin. Given the
sharpness of the razor it was all that required. However,
even as cautious as he was, he still nicked me once. He
stopped the instant I winced.

"God, I'm sorry," he groaned miserably. "I was tryin'
to be careful."

"You and me both, Ace. Just don't be cuttin' my balls
off `cause I ain't goin' to be no use to you or anyone else
if that happens."

He smiled, appreciating the humor.

"No way, Jose! I'm real sorry, Terry."

"I think I'll live given the injury."

"Terry?" he asked, looking up.

"Yeah?"

"Ya ain't mad at me are ya?"

"Why would I be mad at ya?"

"Fer makin' ya do this."

"Duh!"

That seemed to satisfy him and he made another slow
cautious stroke and washed off the strands of fine hair that
accumulated under the razor edge. His brow furrowed as he
continued to work. His face was so close to my groin that he
squinted in order to focus.

"Some of `em ball hairs is so fine ya cain't barely see
`em, Terry," he complained. He glanced up again after the
stroke was completed. "Ya don't mind? Really? Ya know I
would'a sucked ya even if ya said no."

"Geez! Like I care about some dumb hair. Actually, I
think it looks kinda cool."

"Ya look like a little boy," Ty said with amusement.
His free hand encircled my stiff penis, tugging playfully.
"Now he's just like mine 'cept yer dick is humongous and yer
legs are all hairy."

"Bigger `n yer three inches huh?"

He nodded seriously, deep in thought, not interesting
in disputing size. "Ya know somethin' , Terry, Ms. Delaware
would have a fit."

"'bout you shavin' a guys dick and balls?"

He grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah, that too. Mostly I
was thinkin' `bout how we talk. You and me. We sound like a
coupla dumb hicks."

"It's hard ta change ya know, Ace. Once ya get into tha
habit, it's hard ta break."

"I guess. Ms. Delaware, she used ta say I weren't dumb,
but speakin' like this made me sound dumb."

"Yer smart as any kid I know, Ace." I patted his wet
head affectionately. He looked sexy even with his hair dark
and clumped together. "There's different kinds of smarts if
ya ask me. There's some that comes outta books, but some
cain't be learned. Ya either got it or ya don't. Ya liked
her, huh?"

"Ms. Delaware? Yeah, I guess. I think she worried
about me a lot."

"She ain't the only one who worries about ya," I
remarked carelessly.

Ty shrugged, not noticing or caring what I had said. He
playfully tugged on my scrotum again before coming to his
feet. "Yer all done, big boy."

"Okay. Now I get ta shave yer legs, right?"

"No way! I ain't no girl." he jumped back, laughing.
"Anyway, it ain't like I got hairy legs like yers."

"Really? I thought I saw some fuzz."

It was a lie. Ty was one of those few boys with no
noticeable hair other than the hair on his head and a little
silky fuzz on his forearms.

"If I do, it ain't anywhere near yers. You got fur all
over."

"I'm not shavin' everythin'."

"What if I said,... " He smirked teasingly, eyeing me up
and down.

"Yeah?"

"Nuthin', Terry."

"Okay. What do I get to do to ya if I ain't gettin'
sucked till tonight?" I teased.

Ty considered the inequity, or lack thereof. The pay-
off for my pubic hair being removed had been put aside for a
while. It had a become a game, quid pro quo.

"Ya know them sticker tattoos?"

"Uh huh."

He smirked and nodded. "I was goin' to put one of `em
on when I got outta tha shower. I'll let ya put it on me,
okay?"

"Just one? How about all of `em?"

"Yeah, I guess," he answered reluctantly.

"Anywhere I want?"

"No way!... Well, okay,... if ya put `em where no one
else sees `em," he said conspiratorially. His finger touched
a few inches below his navel, then close to his crotch.
"That's between here and here."

"That ain't much ta work with," I complained. "I was
thinkin' of puttin' that one of tha eagle `bout here," I
said, touching his chest.

"Okay, that one's okay but none of tha others. They
ain't gonna be seen by no one but you."

We left the shower and dried off. By the time we had
finished in the bathroom it looked like a scene from a tor-
nado. There were towels strewn from one side to the other.
Drying off was a long process because Ty insisted on kneeing
down to examine his handiwork.

"Yer dick looks so weird like that," he announced from
beneath me. He grinned up at me. "What if boys my age had
weenies tha size a yers?"

"Yeah, that would be quite a sight," I agreed. "It'd
probably bruise yer skinny little legs just walkin' around
with it bangin' from side ta side. `course, with a hard-on,
you'd be able to suck yerself."

I pretended to cuff him on the side of the head. It
ended up as a headlock that lifted him up from the floor.

"Hey! What's the deal?" he demanded.

"Yer gonna suck it, right?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna suck it. I told yer I would."

"And swallow too? A promise is a promise," I reminded
him.

Ty rolled his eyes, then promptly formed his lips into
a large `O' shape in mock preparation. He even made himself
gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing agitatedly. I could easily
imagine his lips around my cock, the head pressing far enough
into his cheek to make it bulge out.

"Okay!" I said triumphantly. "But I'm gonna fill yer
cute little mouth, Ace. You'll be drinkin' somethin' white
and it ain't gonna be milk," I boasted.

With his head still locked beneath my arm, I guided him
into the bedroom and heaved him onto the bed. It felt good to
be the one in control for a change. He sprawled naked and
narcissistic onto the floral-patterned bed cover, disturbing
the neatly made bed as he relocated one of the pillows under
his head. I stood above him, observing how his arms stretched
back, his knees fell apart. Without question he was showing
himself off to me. It was hard to imagine a more beautiful
body? A more gorgeous face? He was Heekin's All-American
boy. What had Heekin said about Ty? He had said everything
except that my boy was sexy? He was that, and more, and it
was so obvious that it did not need to stated aloud. His eyes
met mine. He breathed slowly, deeply. The urge to make love
to him was overpowering. Never before had I experienced
temptation so great that I was unable to control myself. How-
ever, that was how I felt. Any indication that he wanted to
have sex with me, even the slightest encouragement, and it
would have been over right there and then. Even a nod would
have been enough and I would have stuck my dick into his
butt. I wondered whether it would hurt him when I took that
final step with him.

"We're going to be late, Terry," he murmured softly,
yet distinctly.

"So?" I grumbled.

He was back to trying to speak properly again, strug-
gling with guilt, trying so hard to be someone he wanted to
be, to meet the expectations of people he admired, to be what
Ms. Delaware wanted him to be. I wondered what I wanted him
to be. Although he had said nothing to the effect, I had the
feeling that he admired me as much as I admired him. I had
become an important part of his life. We were rapidly becom-
ing more than good friends.

"I'm hungry," he announced plaintively.

"Yer always hungry," I said.

"Yeah, well I'm a growing boy, ain't I?" Ty remon-
strated. He licked his lips, then his eyes flickered away,
searching the room pointlessly. He was still uncertain,
still trying to understand, what was going through his head.

"Yeah, I guess ya are. Only some parts ain't growed all
that much."

"Terry?" He looked back at me.

"Yeah, babe?"

He didn't answer. His hand absently stroked his inner
thigh, moving gradually onto his lengthening penis. His fin-
gertips stroked the blue-hued tip of his penis, feeling the
increased fullness as his stiffness increased. His erection
had diminished while we were drying off, but not for long.

"Terry, if you're going to do the tattoo things,... We
had better get a move on."

"No playin' around, huh?"

He smiled slightly, wistfully, still thoughtful.
"We're saving that for tonight, remember."

I moved away from the bed. We had come so close. It
would have been easy to have laid onto the bed beside him. It
would have taken only a few minutes of playing with his
penis, a finger inserted in his anus, and he would succumb. I
knew how to get him in the mood. My penis ached to be inside
him, either his mouth or his butt, but I respected him too
much to do something without his consent.

His belongings, most of which had been in my suitcase,
had taken up an untidy residence on the couch for the dura-
tion of our stay in Ventura. Again, I made a mental note to
buy him his own suitcase when my credit card was back in use.
The tattoos were not amongst his clothes where I expected to
find them. Instead, they had been placed in the bottom of my
suitcase. I lifted them out, looking at the back of each of
them for instructions that were more useful than `Easy to
apply. Made in Taiwan'.

"Okay, so how do I put them on?" I asked.

"They're so fuckin' easy. They're transfers, Terry."

"That's helpful. It ain't comin' off the paper," I
said, scratching at the edge.

"`course it ain't comin' off. Ya gotta soak `em
first."

"What happened to Eliza Doolittle, Professor Higgins?"
I asked in my best upper class accent, which sounded terrible
even to my ears.

"Who's that?"

"Duh! They're characters in a book, Ace. Pygmalion. It
was by George Bernard Shaw. We had to read it in high school,
if I'm not mistaken."

Ty shrugged disinterestedly.

"Eliza's a cockney flower seller,... " I explained.

"A what?"

"A flower seller."

"I think I know what a fuckin' flower seller is by
now," Ty said derisively. "The other thing you said. The cock
knee part? Is that instead of kneeing someone in the balls?"

I laughed. "It's a,... you know something, I'm not
exactly sure whether it's a place or a type of person. I know
that its someone who speaks like we do, except they're in
England."

"Cool." He made it sound boring.

"Professor um,... What was his name?... Henry something.
Higgins? Yes, I'm sure that's him. Anyway, he's an expert in
dialects. He takes her in and teaches her how to speak cor-
rectly," I explained. My accent had a strong nasal tone, pre-
tending to be English. "Ah, how did it go?- Yes, I think
she's got it." I paused for effect, thinking Ty would laugh.
It sounded ridiculous even to me. "It's where the `rain in
Spain falls mainly on the plain came from," I ended.

"How do ya know that stuff?"

"Well, see, I ain't so dumb, least not as dumb as I
look. I did go to high school, ya know Ace." My accent was
back to normal, basic south of the Mason-Dixon line.

"Ya ain't so dumb!" Ty grinned mischievously. "Least
ways yer no dumber than me."

I went into the bathroom to get water for the trans-
fers. It had been years since I used transfers on model cars,
but I remembered the process more or less.

"Ya went, but did yer finish high school, Terry?" Ty
called out in his teasing voice.

"Duh! Yes, I finished high school, ass hole. In fact, I
went to college too."

He laughed. "Yeah, right! Podunk College!"

"Nope. Not even close."

"Okay. Hm,... how about,... then ya went ta Folsom Col-
lege?" he cackled.

I laughed. "I suppose you could say I did my time,
except it wasn't at Folsom Prison,... "

"So how long was ya in fer?" Ty laughed. "Ya know
Paul's dad did two years fer car stealin'."

"He should have gotten life for what he did to your
friend, Paul."

Ty exhaled. "I told mamaw what he done, ya know, but
she weren't about to do any thin' ta stop him. Doin' nuthin'
is her way unless it's costin' her money."

"A lot of people are like that, Ty. They figure why
should they get involved in something that isn't their busi-
ness."

He considered that for about two seconds or less. "So
Terry, when ya did time, was it fer stealin' tha slow Pontiac
`a yers?"

I chuckled. "Actually, the time I did was four years of
mechanical engineering at Georgia Tech. That's a college in
Atlanta. It was before I took up race cars, Ace."

"Really?" He sounded somewhere between impressed and
disbelieving.

"Yes, really. I had a good job too when I graduated. I
worked at GM's design center in Detroit for a couple of
years. In fact, I designed a new braking system for them."

`I wish I had the patent,' I thought. Money would not
be a problem then. Instead, I received the company's Inven-
tion of the Year Award, worth all of five thousand dollars.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," I answered. "It never made it to production."

"Why?"

"Partly because it was too expensive. They sold the
patent to a company in Italy by the name of Brembo," I said,
thinking that Ty would have no idea what I was talking about.

"No shit? Brembo? Yer kiddin' right? I read `bout `em.
They're s'posed to be hot shit fer braking. They put `em on
like Ferraris and all."

My self-esteem went up a few notches and I smiled to
myself as I examined the transfers floating in the sink. "How
wet do these have to be, Ace?" I called out.

"Pretty wet. So's tha transfer's loose. But ya don't
want ta get `em too wet or they don't stick on so good."

"I got one just about slippin' off the paper."

"Then they're probably all ready."

I picked them out of the basin and carried them back
into the bedroom. Ty looked up. He was fingering his penis,
not quite erect but not far from it.

"You still playin' with that tiny thang?" I teased.
"Poor thang's gonna drop off from overuse," I said with my
Texan twang that was guaranteed to get a laugh from Bobbie.
It worked on Ty too.

Ty smirked. "Dicks don't drop off. They just get red
and sore if ya jack too much."

"Ain't no such thang as a boy jackin' too much," I shot
back. "'specially if he's still shootin' blanks."

Ty grinned, moving his hand away from temptation. "Ya
learn much at college?"

"Yep."

He considered that. "Ya know somethin'? I didn't
really know why at tha time, but Ms. Delaware told me once I
gotta go to college," Ty announced as I came over the bed he
was lying on.

"She's right, Ace. If it was up to me you'd go to col-
lege. Ideally, you'd go on to get some kind of advanced
degree. Anything except marketing that is. I wouldn't want
ya turning out like Heekin."

Ty smiled. His impression of Pierce Heekin was not
much different to mine. I gazed down at him. Naked as a jay-
bird, as beautiful a sight as any man could ever see. I loved
the way his hair changed color when it was wet. It was still
blond, but it was much darker.

"Ya like that Ms. Del-ware a lot don't ya?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's cool."

"Ya oughta send her a postcard or somethin', so she
knows yer doin' okay," I suggested.

I regretted saying that almost immediately, but only
because of the cost of the postcard and stamp. It could be as
much as a dollar, and that was a dollar I did not have to
spend right then. For no other reason, I wished I had a mil-
lion dollars to give Ty whatever he wanted.

"I cain't see tha point of doin' that college stuff,
not if I'm drivin' a race car like you," Ty remarked.

"It'd be a waste if that's all you did," I agreed. "The
pits are full of young hotshots, Ace. Most of `em don't know
shit about how the cars are put together. Tha best drivers
are the ones who understand tha technical stuff."

"Bobbie knows it better `n anyone, ya said so yerself
Terry, and he didn't go to no college."

I laughed. "True, but he's got me to help him out."

"So I got you. When yer too old ta drive, ya can work
fer my team," Ty said decisively.

He giggled and I laughed. With one hand I pushed him
back onto the bed and straddled him, my legs clamped on
either side of his knees. That way he could not get away if
he decided to try to escape. Silently, as I gazed down at his
lean naked body, I relished my position of dominance. I think
we both realized that he was the one in control because he
only had to say `no' and I would have climbed off him immedi-
ately. Instead, his giggle became a grin and he placed both
arms behind his head, stretching his chest and belly so that
the skin was drum-tight. It was all I could to stop from
leaning forward and smooching his lean brown body. Before me
was a sight so inviting, so tantalizing, so shamelessly sen-
sual that I could not remember being so aroused. My erection
stuck straight out, hovering over Ty's thighs. There was
pre-cum glistening on the tip, oozing steadily out of the
slit. He ignored it. His own penis was no less stiff, just a
whole lot smaller. It looked like a finger sticking up from
his groin, a delicious, very suckable finger. It would have
been so easy to scoot back another foot or so and lean for-
ward. Ty smiled at me as if he could read my mind. His penis
jerked slightly, flexing deliberately.

"Someone's happy," I observed.

"Duh,... No shit!"

His penis jumped again, lifting up to greet me. Even
his scrotum drew up, pulling his testicles higher until they
were like marbles on either side of his straining erection.
It was beautiful to watch. I licked my lips, imagining how it
would feel. Hot and hard, sweet and soft, and smooth, so
smooth that it would melt inside my mouth. Ty's eyes flick-
ered. He inhaled, using the muscles inside his lower abdomen
to make his erection pulse hungrily.

"Ya want me ta suck ya off?" I murmured.

He did not answer immediately. Finally, he shook his
head slightly. "Tonight, okay? We can sixty-nine then if ya
want," he added tersely.

He tensed, his eyes seeking mine, his penis quivering
with excitement, waiting. He radiated `sex', and he knew it.
We were so close to the edge that we could both sense it
yawning before us. All it would take was a tiny push.

"I might just take ya up on that," I replied as calmly
as I could under the circumstances. "Now, where are we gonna
put these tattoos? How about we put this one right above yer
belly button. Ace?"

I held it up for him to read. In bold letters, it pro-
claimed 'SEXY' in brilliant red, orange and neon blue.

Ty erupted in a fit of giggles. "Ya do and yer doin'
tha explainin' if anyone fuckin' sees it."

"Where do ya want it then, boy?"

He pointed to just above his groin and waited for my
response. It was so large that it would reach nearly all the
way across his lower abdomen and then the bottom edge would
be almost touching his penis. There was obviously no hair to
get in the way and his pubis was so prominent that it would
probably distort the transfer, but it was the ideal location
and the ideal message. He was sexy, incredibly sexy.

"Why should I go ta college? It didn't do you no good,"
Ty continued unabated. He had the ability to divert his
thoughts at short notice. I wished that I could do that.

I carefully lifted the transfer off the paper backing
and positioned it on his lower belly. Merely touching him
sent a shiver through me. My hand trembled as I smoothed out
the bubbles with my finger tip until a trickle of water
escaped beside his penis and dribbled down his loose scro-
tum.

"Yeah, it did. I learned about how to engineer a car."

"Maybe. But it don't make no difference to how ya
talk, least ways ya don't talk no different ta me, Terry."

"It ain't a matter of how ya talk," I explained, set-
tling into a deep southern twang that would at a minimum have
raised eyebrows, if not gotten me fired when I worked in
Detroit. "It's what ya got ta say that's important."

Ty considered that, sitting up part of the way to
observe my handiwork on his lower belly. "Awesome, huh? It
looks cool."

"Yeah, only I would'a said hot, not cool," I agreed
wholeheartedly. Ty smiled and I added, "real hot!"

"Hot as in sexy, huh? `SEXY'," he laughed. "Yeah,
that's me fer sure."

"You are," I said simply.

Ty didn't answer for a moment. When he did, it was to
change the subject to something less personal. "They cost so
much, it's a pity they don't last more `n a coupla days."

"Yeah, but maybe that's a good thing, Ace."

"Why?"

"`cause it'll wear off fast. I mean ya never know when
someone might see yer bare."

"Ain't no one seein' me there, `exceptin' you Terry."

That made me feel strange. It sounded as if he was
reserving himself for me. I was possessive by nature so I
naturally liked the idea. The funny thing was that I also
liked the idea of other people knowing how sexy he was. It
was like `look but don't touch because this boy is mine'. It
was almost unnatural, but the thought of other men lusting
after Ty excited me. It would have been different if Ty was
lusting after other men, but I couldn't see that happening,
not if I treated him right. There was always a risk, but I
took it anyway just to see what happened.

I winked meaningfully. "`course, ya hear it said all
tha time, it pays ta advertise. If ya want ta strut yer
stuff, I ain't gettin' in yer way, Ace."

He rolled his eyes and gave me a `tired of talking
about it' look.

"Well, it's true," I continued unabated.

I could tell that he wanted to drop the matter, but I
couldn't. It was difficult trying to find the words to
express what I wanted to say. "If ya got what it takes to
turn someone on, there ain't no point in bein' ashamed of
it."

He smiled slightly, lowering his defense. "Maybe, but
I'm wearin' it fer you. I like havin' it down there where no
one's gonna know I got it on. It's gonna be our secret," he
added conspiratorially.

I grinned. It was like he had taken a test and passed
with flying colors. "Every time yer wearin' shorts I'll be
wearin' a hard-on just thinkin' about ya."

"That's tha idea," Ty smirked.

"Okay, how about tha next one goin' right here?
Yeah,..." I said, nodding my head. "I figure it'd be perfect
fer tha All-American boy," I decided, tapping his chest mid-
way between his two tiny nipples.

"Which one?" Ty asked cheerfully. He liked being the
center of attention. "Tha eagle right?" he asked uncer-
tainly.

"Uh huh. Yer gonna look real patriotic whenever ya
take yer shirt off, Ace."

He grinned and lay back on the bed, again placing his
hands under his head. He gazed up at me as I leaned over him,
peeled off the damp paper from the tattoo, and carefully
placed the thin wet plastic film on his chest. The bald-
headed eagle was in flight, huge wings outspread, talons
extended, its beak cruelly curved. The tips of its wings
nearly brushed his nipples.

"It's way bigger than I thought," I observed. "Ya want
I can take it off?"

"No way! I'm makin' a statement," Ty claimed glee-
fully.

"Now, if it was up to me the others are goin' on yer
butt."

He smiled. "It's too soon, Terry. Ya gotta let `em dry
a bit before ya move around."

Since it was obvious that nothing interesting was
about to happen, at least not until the transfers were dry, I
clambered off him to sit on the bed. He wriggled higher so
the pillow was under his head.

"So. Ya wanna watch some TV?"

TY shrugged ambivalently. Unlike most boys his age, he
was not a television fiend, unless it was Sunday afternoon
Nascar racing or ESPN was showing repeats of the weekend
speedway action.

"Ya don't need ta go ta college to drive a race car do
ya?" he asked absently.

"Nope."

It was the truth. There were a lot of very successful
drivers with less than a high school education.

"So it was a waste fer ya then, weren't it? Ya could'a
been drivin' for them years? If ya did, ya would'a been win-
nin' races."

"Probably," I conceded. He was partly right. "Assumin'
I had the money to get started. My job provided most a the
money fer my first car."

"What was it?"

"Ya don't wanna know," I laughed, not that it was a
laughing matter. "Okay, if ya must know....Fer a few years I
was drivin' stock cars."

"Ya really drove stock?"

"Yeah, go figure."

"Man, I cain't believe ya done that first?"

"Yeah. Actually, I had a couple of `em before I moved
up to Nascar."

"Wow! See, that's what I wanna do in a few years when I
grow up, Terry."

"Forget it Ty!"

"Why?"

"Because racin' on a dirt track is fer fuckin' dum-
mies,... well fer idiots, I mean. Most of `em cain't drive
worth a damn. Yer lucky if they can keep outta yer way, so
it's dangerous as hell. Plus the money sucks. There's better
ways to get into racin'."

"So?" he demanded arrogantly. "If it's what I want,
what's it to ya?"

"For one simple reason, Ace. I think yer better than
that!"

"What's that s'posed ta mean?"

I smiled. If only he knew. Having seen him driving
karts during the day I was more than convinced he was a nat-
ural, like Gordon Jeffries had been at the same age. I
touched his lean belly, determining that the tattoo above
his groin was almost dry.

"Ya got yer future all figured out, don't ya Ace?" I
asked casually.

Ty pursed his lips, not at all certain what to say in
response. "I ain't got no future, right. That's what yer
tellin' me, ain't ya Terry. I'm wastin' my time dreamin'
`bout drivin' race cars. I might as well go back to that
fuckin' dump of a trailer `n kill myself."

I shook my head sadly. "Yer so young, Ty. Ya got yer
whole life ahead a ya. There ain't no big rush ta do every-
thin' right away. If ya take the time to think what's best
fer ya in the long haul `fore ya jump into somethin', yer
gonna go a whole lot further."

"Whatever! Ya gonna put tha rest a `em tattoos on me or
what?" he asked. "I'm hungry `n I ain't feelin' like waitin'
till tomorrow mornin' ta eat, ya know."

I thought I detected a note of impatience mixed with
frustration. He was like that sometimes. It would take time
before he learned to trust someone, particularly when he had
already decided otherwise. It helped that he respected me.

I laughed. "It's sounds like ma boy's gettin' a mite
hungry on me."

"Duh! Hungry ain't tha word fer it. What if my belly's
aching fer somethin' in it?"

There was a hint of a smile. His eyes slowly came up to
meet mine. From the almost shy look on his face, he had to be
thinking the same that I was.

"Pity. There sure ain't nuthin' here ta eat, Ace.
`course if yer real hungry I got somethin' here for ya to
chew on fer a while," I teased, playfully rubbing my hand
across my crotch.

"In yer dreams,... " He grinned suddenly. "Or after din-
ner, whatever comes first."

I laughed and playfully tugged his now limp dick down.
He didn't complain so I took it by the head with a finger and
thumb, stretching it out a few inches before I let go. It was
a lot thinner stretched out.

"Now, that's four inches, Ace. Only it's just a bit on
tha skinny side. People would start callin' ya `pencil-
dick'."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." He rolled his eyes and gave me another
one of his practiced `dumber than dirt' looks.

"Where do ya want `em, Ace?" I said picking up the two
remaining transfers. "It's getting' kinda crowded on yer
front."

"Duh! I thought you was tha one decidin'." Ty grinned,
the corners of his eyes crinkling with mischief. "Anyway, ya
better git a move on or we're gonna be so fuckin' late we'll
miss dessert."

"Okay, okay!," I pretended to grumble. Just looking at
that broad boyish grin was enough to take my mind of whatever
I was doing. "Man, yer gettin' to be worse than Bobbie. Fer a
kid, ya sure give a lot or orders, don't ya? Hm,... so if I'm
decidin' then I guess that pretty much leaves yer butt,... " I
said, pretending to think aloud as I examined the two trans-
fers. "We got `STOP' and `KEEP DREAMING' left. Yeah, I guess
we gotta put `em on yer butt, `cause that's where they
belong. that's fer sure. At least I ain't dreamin' any more
about suckin' yer weenie."

Ty did not stop grinning. With the wet transfers deco-
rating his front, it was impossible for him to simply roll
over onto his belly. Instead, he carefully climbed off the
bed and stood up. He stood straight and tall, a superb spec-
imen of prepubescent boyhood, I thought to myself. It was
difficult to imagine a more perfect body, certainly it
wasn't possible on any member of the opposite sex. I stared
silently, gratified merely to be in his presence.

"Well?"

He sounded like a nine-point-five on the petulance
scale. However, he was not the type of boy to be petulant. He
was getting anxious, almost frustrated. I knew that feeling.
Living even a couple of days with Ty was guaranteed to make
any man frustrated. The problem was that I was not sure why
was upset. Perhaps it was a matter of him being hungry, but
part of me wanted to think of his impatience as being more
than food-driven. Even though his penis had remained half
erect throughout, I wanted to believe that he was being
aroused, just as I was excited by the bizarre thing we were
doing.

I had never considered myself to be `kinky' when it
came to sex, but seeing Ty before me, his body decorated with
two colorful transfer tattoos, with one proclaiming he was
`SEXY' only an inch away from his penis, sent a weird thrill
through me. In a way, I was putting my mark of ownership on
him, temporary though it was. And then, for no reason at all,
I thought about him getting a permanent tattoo. It would have
to be something small, hidden on his body where no one but me
would see it, some symbol that was as identifiable as a VIN
number, something that was uniquely me. That way, he would be
mine. I almost erupted thinking about that possibility. Hes-
itantly, Ty's eyes met mine, but just for a few moments. I
had the unsettling feeling that he knew what I was thinking.
He shook his head ever so slightly.

"Okay,... " I muttered self-consciously. "Let's put this
one here,... `STOP'! I sure hope it's one that wears off
fast." I laughed as I slid the transfer across from the paper
onto Ty's small buttock.

"What's so fuckin' funny?" he demanded brazenly, his
hands on his hips. He glared at me, trying his best not to
laugh.

"Whoa! And I thought we were supposed to be watching
how we spoke?" I challenged.

It felt good to have the upper hand for a change, even
better to be the one who was keeping Ty in line. He glanced
at me, surprised.

"Yeah, no fuckin' shit!" he shot back. "Anyways, yer
always sayin' fuck all tha time."

"Do not!"

"Yeah ya do. Only ya do it when ya think I cain't hear
ya."

"Well, it ain't right fer a kid yer age to be using
words like that all tha time," I countered.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It ain't me whose speech we
oughta be worryin' `bout Terry, `cause I don't need a sponsor
do I?" Ty smirked.

"Good point. You don't need a sponsor, except for the
fact that someone's got to pay the bills for your kart. I
figure it'll cost at least a coupe of thousand a year to run
it. More if ya start gettin' real competitive."

"It ain't gonna be an issue," Ty said confidently.
"Least not when I got yer credit card takin' care a the
bills. Yer better than a sponsor," he added with a bold
smirk.

"Now what makes ya think I'm gonna do that?"

Ty's expression was as smug as it could be. "'cause ya
will," he said, turning around so that his back was to me.

"Uh huh." The inflexion should have been enough to get
his attention. It did. His head turned back again, looking
over his shoulder.

"'cause ya like me."

"Like? Hm,... so you figure I like you enough to spend
that much money on you?"

"Yeah." Again, that same supremely confident voice
from a boy who had never had a reason to be confident in his
whole life.

"Well, I ain't about to say `keep dreamin', sexy," I
laughed, carefully relocating the transfer towards his small
crevice. The closer it went, the more I liked it. Already,
the `Y' was almost out of sight between his pinched firm
cheeks. That way it said `SEX'. And sex was what I wanted.
His bottom had been alluring before, but now that it had its
own advertising, it was pure temptation. I had to swallow
before I could breath again.

"Okay, ya wanna share tha big joke?"

"Nuthin'.I was just thinkin' how sexy yer butt is,
Ace. There ain't no need to advertise it, that's fer sure, it
is sure looks hot with this on it. Why a man would ever want
pussy when there's butts like yers is beyond me."

"'cause it don't want some big hairy dick rammed
inside it?" Ty chided.

"Hey, it ain't hairy."

"Okay, some big bald dick, then. It ain't the hair
that's tha problem, Terry. It's tha dick goin' inside part
I'm sayin' no to."

Playfully, I slid my thumb into the crevice below the
tattoo and pretended to search around for his anus.

"Man, talk `bout a chicken-ass. Yer so tight back here
I cain't find it."

"That's `cause ya ain't pushin' in tha right place, ya
dummy," Ty sniggered.

"Hm,... higher or lower?" I teased, sliding my thumb
along his crevice.

"Any lower and yer gonna be squeezin' my nuts."

"Yer mean this tiny thing is yer ass-hole? I was
thinkin' it was a pimple on yer ass or somethin'." I asked,
jabbing my thumb at the puckered indentation I had passed on
the way.

"Duh! What did ya `xpect? It ain't like it's a pussy."

"There ain't no way my dick's gettin' in here without a
whole lot of pushin'."

"Duh!" Ty snorted again in derision. "That's what I've
been tellin' you, Terry. There ain't no way yer doin' that if
ya ain't winnin' races," he repeated, emphasizing each and
every word.

"Yeah, well yer time will come `fore long Ace. I plan
on collectin' what's mine sooner or later, so ya better start
getting' it loosened up. I reckon a banana would be `bout
right."

Ty laughed nervously. "Fer yer dick, Terry, I oughta
start out usin' a cucumber `n work up to a melon. That is
assumin' ya can ever get yer car in front and stay there long
enough ta win."

"Who needs ta win?" I said teasingly. "All I gotta do
is get ya in tha mood."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen. A deal's a deal,
Terry. I figure my ass is real safe."

It was a last ditch effort to defy me. He sounded res-
olute. Everything I had learned about him so far confirmed my
first impression that he was one very daring boy. Plucky,
gutsy, spirited, were words that had been invented for Ty
Kincaid.

"Yeah, well it don't matter `cause I plan on winnin'
real soon," I said dryly.

"And just how do ya plan on doin' that?"

"By drivin' tha car like that kart. See, I'm gonna have
Bobbie set the suspension up different, make it less fer
goin' fast in a straight line and more `bout handlin'."

"I cain't see tha point. There ain't that many corners
on a NASCAR track," Ty said complacently.

He glanced over his shoulder again, skewing his head
and neck to see what I was doing. I gave a final adjustment
to the transfer. `SEXY' was definitely the word to describe a
preteen boy's butt when it looked like Ty's. Luckily, no one
else but me would see it, not unless he did something stupid
like going naked on a public beach.

"Duh, no shit! Actually, drivin' tha kart today got me
ta thinkin' `bout how much I use the wheel durin' a race. Yer
right, Ace, there ain't no corners ta speak of on most of tha
circuits, but the car's still movin' around a lot. I'm plan-
nin' on drivin' a lot different from now on, Ty."

"Ya gonna finish them tattoos tonight? I'm starvin' ta
death."

"I'm workin' on it, Ace. Hm,... I figure we'll put `KEEP
DREAMING' right about here,... "

I slapped his other buttock, not too hard, but hard
enough to make a loud smack. He pretended to yelp. My hand
stayed there, stroking the rounded flesh, pressing finger-
tips between the small cheeks into the hidden crevice.

"Here, so I can always see it. That way, I ain't for-
gettin' what I'm aimin' fer." I brought my head close to his
and said, "'cause I am gonna win real soon, Ty, and when I
do,... "

I lowered my voice to a whisper as a single fingertip
grazed his anus. It was tight, tighter than I expected, a
tiny wrinkled knot that would have denied even the most
determined entry.

"I'm makin' yer little butt hole a whole lot bigger."

"Says you!" Ty sniggered. "Ya wouldn't know what to do
even if ya did manage ta win a race."

"I know enough, Ace, `n what I don't know, I can ask
Bobbie if I have ta."

"No fuckin' way. I know ya better than that. Ya ain't
gonna ask him nuthin', `specially `bout how ta put it in a
boy."

"Ha! Don't bet on it, Ace. I probably won't have ta,
anyway. Ya might be ma first boy, but I figure what ya got
back there ain't no different to a pussy. Ya just stick it in
and hump like crazy. I know a boy who ain't gonna be sittin'
down fer a week after I'm done."

Ty giggled nervously. I regretted what I had said, but
it was too late. I had not wanted to say it like that, not at
all like that. It came out as far too threatening. Despite
Ty's outwardly brave exterior, I was beginning to realize
that the boy within was not nearly as brave as he wanted me
to think. Every day we spent together he seemed to become
increasingly anxious. He was changing slowly but surely,
although I was not at sure what the change was.

Any way I thought about it, what I had said to him was
wrong, especially when all I wanted to do was to tease him. I
wanted him to know how much I desired him. I wanted to tell
him how much I loved him, that I wanted to make love to him,
but it wasn't in my character to be passionate, at least not
in words.

"You are so fuckin' sexy," I murmured.

He didn't respond. Again, I had said the wrong thing.
The silence endured between us. He was the first to speak,
and when he did, his voice was trembling.

"Just stick it on me, and forget about what you want ta
stick in me. I told you like a hundred times that I'm
starvin'."

I thought about apologizing, I really did. It wasn't
the time. Ty took time to cool down when he was like this. he
wasn't angry, even when he was short with me. Despite what I
knew to be true, I still followed my worst instincts.

"Yeah, me too. Ya know, if ya wanted I could put it on
upside down, Ace? That way I could read it when we're sixty-
nining `n I'm suckin' on yer cute little boy-dick?" I sug-
gested.

Even to my voice it sounded half-hearted. It wasn't
funny, not like I wanted it to be.

"Yeah, but ya know somethin'? Until ya win that race,
Terry, it'll still read `keep dreamin'," Ty said softly in
what seemed to me to be a scared voice.

It was only then that I realized the difference
between an adult's sense of humor and that of a child. He
didn't think it was funny, not in the slightest.