Date: Tue, 20 Mar 2007 12:57:29 -0400
From: "volpone69@earthlink.net" <volpone69@earthlink.net>
Subject: Strange Interlude

This is a work of fiction.  The author never experienced this nor anything
like the events described here, nor did anyone he knows.


When I was about 5, naked after having a bath, I ran into the living room
to tell my mother something and found that a neighbor family had dropped
in.  In addition to two adults there were three young boys.  They all
laughed indulgently and I remember my little cock erecting in an instant
and giving me intense pleasure.  I have spent a large part of the rest of
my life hoping to reproduce the intensity of that experience of shame and
exquisite pleasure.

The years passed, I married, and had two sons of my own.  In those years,
although I have gotten some pleasure out of sex with my wife, the most
intense sexual feelings have come when I could be nude in front of my sons
or other young males.  I never touched them sexually and only dreamed of
masturbating in front of them, but the ache to be seen by boys has remained
with me to this day.  When I daydream about it, which I do often, I appear
in my imaginings as I was then at 5, a small slender boy with tiny erect
penis and perfect globular buns.

I say all of this as prelude to relating a curious incident that occurred
recently.  We have all read of the numerous instances of now-adult men
coming forward alleging that as children they had been sexually abused by
men in authoritarian positions: teachers, priests, professional men.  These
victims are surely right to feel ill-used and to demand justice.  But there
are instances, as my recent experience will suggest, when the events play
out in a different and more ambiguous way.

I have been a middle school history teacher for many years and a scout
master, and in all of those years, despite my inclinations cited above,
have never made an improper approach to one of my charges, despite numerous
opportunities to do so.  Ethics has consistently trumped urges.

Then, several weeks ago, I took my scout troop on a trip to the state
capital to see the legislature in session and to meet some elected
representatives.  We had booked rooms in a hotel, two boys to a room, while
I had a private room.  There being an odd number of boys, one of them, whom
I shall call Eddie, also had his own room.  Eddie is about 10, a slender,
quiet, dark-hared boy with a sweet manner.  Although apparently well-liked
by the other boys, he seemed to have no special "best" friend.

We checked into the hotel upon arrival in the afternoon, and soon had
everyone sorted out into their rooms.  As it turned out, Eddie's room was
adjacent to mine, with a common door locked by latches on both sides.  We
all went to dinner at the hotel restaurant, and afterwards got together in
a small conference room large enough for our group of 15 boys, where we had
a discussion about the state, the branches of government, and the
separation of powers.  At about 8:30 we all had hot chocolate and went to
our rooms.  Before I settled into my room I checked on the boys to be sure
all were accounted for.

I stayed up for an hour or so watching the news on television and then
prepared for bed.  I turned out the light and as I lay thinking about the
day ahead of us, I heard a faint rapping on the door between my room and
Eddie's.  I unbolted the door, and there was Eddie, this beautiful,
sad-faced boy, completely nude.  He came rushing forward and wrapped his
arms around me, tears running down his face.

I was wearing undershorts and he seemed to be pressing especially firmly
against my penis,  I felt it begin to stir, but guiltily tried to stop it,
unsuccessfully.  I led him to the sofa and we sat down, my penis pushing
out through the open fly of my boxers.

I asked him softly what the trouble was, but he clung to me ever more
firmly, burying his head in my chest as we sat there, staring down at my
semi-hard penis.  I wrapped my arms around him and became aware of his
trembling.  After a few minutes his shaking subsided and then, in this
night of curiosities, the most curious of things happened.  He slid out of
my arms to his knees in front of me and wrapped both of his young hands
around the shaft of my rising cock, bringing me to full erection.  He then
kissed the tip, again and again, and squeezed the shaft in pulsing
movements.  A large drop of pre-cum oozed out and the boy touched his
tongue to it and drew his head slowly back, forming a glistening thread
joining him to me.

I knew that I should tell him to stop.  I knew that I should pull away from
him and put some clothing on.  I knew I should take him back to his room
and talk to him to find out what was troubling him.  But my mind recalled a
naked 5-year-old with beautiful buns, and I let it all play out instead.  I
gasped and stiffened and the orgasm came ripping up and out, squirting all
over his face and chest.  For the first time I heard the child laugh with
delight.

When at last the spasm had passed and my vision cleared, Eddie was sitting
back on his heels still in front of me, smiling softly, the sweetest, most
peaceful smile I had ever seen on his otherwise sober little face.

I drew him up to me and held him for how long I cannot recall.  At last he
pulled free from my arms and, his young lithe body a thing of beauty, he
began to dance and twirl before me, in full delight, rubbing my cum on his
chest and his tiny erect penis.  He then came up to me. Holding my face in
his hands he planted a kiss fully on my lips, and danced back into his
room, closing and locking the door.

Next day I was afraid to look at the boy, but he seemed the same as ever,
the same sober little boy.  There was no repeat of this incident on the
second night of our stay.

It might have been a dream, of course, coming at bedtime as it did.  But I
think not.  It was simply too vivid and realistic to have been a dream.

I have since learned a bit more about Eddie.  His parents are divorced.
His father had abandoned the family when Eddie was very young.  Eddie has
an older brother, now in the military service.  The boy has never been in
trouble with the law or with the school.  His grades are well above average
and he is especially good in mathematics.

Yesterday was the first meeting of the troop since our trip to the capital.
Eddie showed up and seemed to be the same as he had always been: quiet,
gentle, sweet.  There was just one moment, when the troop's conversation
turned to the trip we had just enjoyed, that our eyes met ever so briefly,
and I thought that they flickered down toward my crotch.  A soft smile
played across his face.

The man that I have become knows full well what his responsibilities are.
But the child, the 5-year-old is whispering softly, insistently.