From: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an27868@anon.penet.fi
Date: Wed, 11 Aug 1993 16:43:49 UTC
Subject: SUMMER DREAMS (man/boy)

WARNING:

	This story (beginning in chapter 5) will contain 
descriptions of consensual sexual acts between a man and a MINOR 
boy.

If this subject offends you, or you are under 18, do not read 
further! You have been warned!


FACT OR FICTION:

 	This is my first posting to this newsgroup although I 
have  enjoyed reading stories of this type here for some time now. 

The story is part fact, part fiction, and as real life so often 
does,  begins slowly. Although I'm no longer sure where fact ends  
and fiction begins, perhaps the reader can decide for himself  
(herself). Of course, the names and general characteristics of the  
'actors' have been modified although some similarities are 
preserved. 


REPLIES,SUGGESTIONS,ETC:

   	E-mail comments and criticisms to an27868@anon.penet.fi, 
or post to alt.sex.stories.d, because that is what it is for, after 
all.   Don't post here! Please feel free to comment or point me 
towards ftp sites  for similar stories. If you like it, let me know 
or I probably won't bother  writing any more.


COPYRIGHT:

	Copyright is held by the author at an27868@anon.penet.fi. August, 1993.
You are free to copy and distribute via electronic means only. In printed media,
copyright protection remains.


FINAL WARNING:

	If you're under 18 or man-boy relationships aren't your 
thing then exit now!


			SUMMER DREAMS


Chapter 1. First Sightings

 It was summer and in the low 90's outside. The evening just 
beginning to cool down after a long hot day and it was the first 
time I saw Dylan. It was at the ice cream shop. I'd walked down one 
evening with my son and the boy was sitting at the table next to 
mine. He was with another boy, maybe a year older, and two girls. 
From their appearance, apparently neither of the girls were his 
sisters, and from his lack of interest, I assumed that they were 
not girl friends either. I guessed that one of the girls might have 
been his friend's sister. But it was Dylan that interested me, not 
that I knew his name then. He was what could only be called 
beautiful, the kind of beauty that one turns or stops to watch, the 
kind of beauty that is unnatural in a boy. He was blond headed, his 
hair long and slightly curly, bright golden strands bleached by the 
sun. He was slender, and from what smooth flesh was exposed, seemed 
to have a nice even tan. He was short but with a beautifully 
proportioned body, probably a few inches under five feet, and if I 
had to guess, probably not much more than eighty pounds. As I sat 
there eating my ice-cream I thought that he couldn't have been much 
older than twelve. There was a natural and youthful grace about 
him, but it was his face that struck me the deepest; his finely 
sculpted features, almost too delicate to be a boy, yet 
irresistibly so. I glanced over at him again and again, absorbing 
the aura that he seemed to exude, there was a liveliness, a youthful 
vitality, a quick grin, a playfulness that made me want to know him 
better. He was dressed in long shorts, almost to his knees, a long- 
sleeved checked shirt, with the arms untidily pushed upward, almost 
defying the heat.

 That was the first time and every day for the rest of that 
week I scrutinized the ice-cream store on my way home from the 
university, hoping to see him again, but each time I was 
unsuccessful. The next time was about a week later. We'd just 
joined the local swim club and I'd taken my son for his swimming 
lesson. I sat back in a chaise-longue watching the pool, absorbed 
by the lean bodies of the young swim-team boys, dressed only in 
their brightly colored Speedos, as they practiced diving, swimming 
and generally enjoying themselves.

 That is when I saw him again, but he wasn't swimming. Again, 
in the heat of the afternoon, he was playing basketball with his 
friend, dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts, his golden 
blond hair mussed up and sweaty. He moved agilely, shooting hoops 
with ease, even though he was still quite short and the hoop was a 
long way up. Compared to his friend he was outstanding, his 
movements far swifter and reflecting his much greater agility. Half 
hidden by the hedge, I sat back in the chaise-longue, waiting for 
brief glimpses of my blond-headed boy as he jumped and ran around, 
darting back and forth. Finally, the basketball game ceased and the 
boys settled down to a game of ping-pong. Again, my blond-headed 
boy ruled the day, returning hit after hit with seemingly little 
effort. Then as my son's swimming lesson finished, I took over, 
making him practice by swimming the short length of the pool. It 
was traumatic and after a few minutes he had to break for a pit-
stop. I got out with him and went myself. On the way to the 
bathrooms we passed the ping-pong table and for a brief moment I 
watched him yet again, almost unable to take my eyes away from that 
beautiful young creature. After I'd been to the bathroom I came 
back to the fence that divided the play area from the pool area and 
I stood there, leaning against the fence, watching the boy play 
ping-pong, hoping that my son would take his time.

Finally, his swimming lesson over for the day, we left by 
going the long way around the pool. I hoped to see the boy up close 
one more time that day. He was still playing, still moving quickly, 
almost with the same high energy level he'd demonstrated earlier 
on the basketball court.

 Another day or two passed, every minute at the pool I watched, 
hoped, and prayed that he would arrive, but without success. Then 
the third day, as I sat back on the chaise-longue, he sauntered up 
to a chair on the other side of the pool, dropped his bag and 
removed his long-sleeved shirt, revealing a beautiful slender torso 
with an even almost-bronze-colored tan. This kid was something 
else, the pool was crowded, the temperature was in the low-to-mid 
90's and he was wearing a long sleeve shirt, possibly even flannel, 
but from where I sat it was impossible to tell. He kicked off his 
shoes, picked up his swimming costume and headed off to the 
changing room. For a moment I thought about following him, perhaps 
faking a trip to the bathroom, wondering whether I'd get a glimpse 
of his naked body, perhaps even see .... I waited too long, he came 
back, sauntered over to the chair and dropped his shorts and white 
jockeys into his back and then walked casually to the diving board. 
His swimming costume was blue and cut like shorts. It was very 
different to the narrow Speedos of the swim-club boys, which 
exposed almost as much as they covered.

In that brief walk to the diving board I absorbed him, his 
legs were lean and slender, browner at the ankles and legs. Then 
past his knees, the tan faded slightly, I supposed as a result of 
his long-length shorts.

At the diving board he stopped for a moment, as if focusing 
his attention, concentrating his energy, then, a few quick steps, 
and an animal-like spring high into the air, a somersault, and he 
sliced into the water with barely a splash. This boy could dive. 
He emerged, his blond head now dark from the water, shook it 
briefly, then with one or two powerful strokes reached the side of 
the pool. With both hands on the edge, he lifted himself up, coming 
easily to his feet in one graceful, seemingly effortless motion.

 Then again and again he dived, some dives smooth and graceful 
and obviously very familiar to him, others not as well-practised, 
and just a little bit awkward. It was as if my eyes were riveted 
to this startling boy, absorbing his every move, until my son's 
lesson finished and he startled me by silently coming to up to the 
chair and dripping on me. I got into the pool with him and again 
we practiced his  short-laps, back and forward across the pool. 
When he needed a break to get his  breath, I held  him  and as we 
watched the boy diving, I told him  that maybe one day he'd be able 
to dive like that. Finally, our practice session was over and we 
got out of the pool and towelled off. As we left, we went the long 
way, close to the diving boards. Just feet away, I watched the boy 
climb out of the pool, saw his slender lithe body, the bronzed-
brown tanned chest, nipples that were so small that they were 
nearly invisible, the clear indentations of his ribs, a flat brown 
belly grooved by firm strong muscles, a small indented belly 
button. Then he took a few steps and leaped upwards, doing a double 
somersault and then rocketing down into the water. For a moment we 
stopped to watch him as he emerged, swam to the side and climbed 
out, then another dive. My son said something but I didn't hear 
what. It was as if the world was closed, my attention focused on 
the beautiful young boy. Unable to find the courage to stay longer, 
I ambled out of the pool area, taking just one longing look back 
at the diving board. I didn't see him and I guessed that he was 
still in the water.

 Another day or two passed before I saw him again. Each time 
I walked to and from work I looked for him, eager and hopeful of 
seeing him in the ice cream shop though I knew that the chance of 
seeing him there again at the precise time I walked by was very 
unlikely. When I saw him the next time it was totally unexpected. 
It was 5.30 pm and I was walking home from the university. I would 
pick up my son and with luck I would see the boy again at the pool. 
As I neared my house I saw a person walking down the street, coming 
towards me. At first I thought it was a young woman, then a girl, 
then as he came closer I realized who it was. Still dressed in 
shorts and a long sleeved shirt, I tried to focus all my thoughts, 
to capture a lasting image as he passed beside me. Too brief, not 
much more than a glimpse, not enough to be lasting, but in the few 
seconds that he was only a foot or two away, I saw that he was a 
very beautiful boy. I guessed that he was on his way home from the 
pool, carrying a bag casually, not smiling, but not unhappy. I 
should have turned to watch him as he continued on his way, perhaps 
he'd turn as well to look back at me, surely he'd sensed the same 
magnetism that I felt. But then, why would a beautiful boy, 
probably not much more than twelve years old, be interested in 
grown man in his early forties. But at least I knew that sometimes 
he came my way, perhaps he lived close to my house, perhaps within 
a few blocks, perhaps I'd see him more often, perhaps.... But why 
hadn't I seen him before. 

 The next day I saw him again at the pool, sitting on the rear 
deck of the pool-house by himself. He looked lonely, as if waiting 
for someone and I supposed that he was waiting for a lift home. 
Perhaps that was why he'd walked the previous day, his lift hadn't 
arrived for some reason and he'd been forced to walk home. He was 
still dressed in a long-sleeved shirt. In the barest instant that 
I saw him, I thought his eyes met mine, then quickly look away. Was 
it my imagination, that a look of recognition flashed across that 
beautiful young face, the merest glimmer of a smile.

The days passed slowly after that, for nearly a full week I 
didn't see him, every day I looked for him where ever I went. Often 
at the pool I'd see a blond-headed boy who seemed to be about his 
size. I'd watch him continually from my chaise lounge unsure that 
it was "my boy". As I left, or went to the bathroom, I'd come closer 
only to find out that it was someone else. I was disappointed then, 
but also glad because these other boys always seemed to have lots 
of friends around them. Each day brought new hopes and further 
agony. Each night I dreamed (fantasized) about the boy, pretending 
that we'd become intimate friends, pretending conversations, 
imagining playful tickles and rough-housing with him.

 Then on a Tuesday afternoon I went home early to do some 
painting on the garage. By about 2.00 pm I was working on the front, 
closest to the street, when I looked over at the other side of the 
street for no reason at all. There he was. He looked in my 
direction, but he was too far away for me to tell if his eyes had 
met mine, too far to tell if he'd smiled, just far enough to see 
the glistening golden blond head turn away as he continued on his 
way up the street. I watched him, breathing out slowly with a 
longing sigh. What would I have given then for his affection, even 
just to speak to him. I was dirty and covered with a film of white 
paint-dust, dressed only in an old pair of grey-green shorts. Then 
he turned, and for another fraction of second, he looked back at 
me again as he continued walking. And then he was out of sight. The 
time was just after 2.00 pm and it was obvious that he was on his 
way to the swim club, carrying his bag over his shoulder, still 
dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and shorts. 


Chapter 2. Introductions.

 Wednesday, 2.00 pm, and every few seconds I glanced around, 
searching the street for a sign of the boy. Minutes pass, long slow 
minutes that seem endless. This time I was painting, rather than 
sanding. I was hopeful, no desperate would be a better word for 
what I'm feeling. He's late, he's not coming, he went by earlier, 
he's gotten a ride to the pool, he's.... I went back to work, still 
glancing back at the street, no sign of the boy. Then I saw him, 
this time he was on my side of the street, which was unusual since 
there is no footpath. I turned to watch him go past, praying for a 
sign of recognition. Then he was opposite me, only twenty five feet 
away. Still walking, he turned his head, his golden hair glistening 
in the sun. There seemed to be a tiny smile form, he shook his head 
abruptly as his eyes met mine (already I know they are blue, like 
the afternoon sky). The boy is incredibly beautiful, I wanted to 
say something, anything, but no words came out and I stared at him 
dumbly. He began to turn away again as if to cross the street and 
I raised my eyebrows in a pleading, desperation and breathed 
outward heavily, a long noticeable sigh of longing. Almost to late 
the boy stops, the smile widened and flashed across his face. In 
that instant, unable to stop myself, I waved. He didn't return my 
salute to his beauty but he smiled still more, then began to turn 
away again. I watched him as he crossed over the street, my eyes 
drawn irresistibly to the boy's small firm buttocks, imagining them 
so smooth and soft under his shorts, sighing with regret, so close, 
so untouchable. In the middle of the road he looked back over his 
shoulder and saw me still watching him. This time he returned my 
wave of recognition, went few more paces then stopped, turned 
around and smiled as he looked directly at me. He came closer, until 
he was only a few feet away. He was still smiling, his perfect teeth 
unbelievably white.

"Hi", I mumbled incoherently, trying to swallow, trying to 
breath as I looked down at him from the ladder.

"Hi," he grinned playfully, his eyes flashing as they looked 
into mine. "Awfully hot for painting, isn't it?" he observed. His 
voice was higher pitched than I would have expected, the nervous 
tremor as present in him as it was in me.

"You're not wrong about that," I said stupidly, "I'd much 
rather be at the pool."

"Yeah I'm headed that way now," the boy grinned.

"So I see. So I see." I observed, frantically trying to think 
of something else to say to him. I wiped my forehead with the back 
of my hand, smearing white paint across my head.

"Heh, look out, you're painting yourself," he giggled, his 
blue eyes flashing with the life and vitality of uninhibited youth, 
his golden-blond hair glistening in the hot afternoon sun.

I laughed with him, the few seconds bringing instant relief 
into my aching heart, wondering, hoping that the boy felt the same, 
but knowing that he could not. After all he was a kid, just a kid, 
maybe twelve, maybe younger, why would he be interested in me I 
thought. "I guess I'll see you at the pool huh. I haven't seen you 
there for quite a while now," I blurted out.

The boy reddened slightly as if embarrassed, "Huh?" he said 
awkwardly, "You've seen me there? At the pool?"

"Huh huh. 'bout a week ago, I watched you diving. By the way 
you dive beautifully. Some of the dives where you somersaulted were 
incredible."

"Yeah! Thanks, I... I guess I do okay on some... a few...like 
my back somersault.... kind of need a lot of practice," he said 
hesitantly.

"I thought you were great," I added with conviction.

The boy smiled, "Your little girl is swimming better."

"He's doing even better now than when you last saw him Last 
week we started doing laps. He's up to three now and getting out 
of the dog-paddle mode as well."

"I know, like I said, he's swimming a lot better," the boy 
said. Then suddenly, he realized what he'd said and he looked down 
at his feet.

"Huh. But I didn't see you 'round the pool this last week," I 
said matter-of-factly, then I too realized what I'd said.

The boy smiled shyly as he looked up, "Yeah, well .... I 
watched from up on the deck..... I didn't feel much like swimming. 
You probably didn't see me up there."

I grinned back at him and shrugged, "I guess we'll see you at 
the pool latter today?"

"Yeah I guess so. See you later," he smiled, as he turned away 
and started back across the street. Just before he reached the 
other side he turned and waved. I grinned happily and waved back.

 That afternoon I couldn't get to the pool soon enough. As 
soon as my father-in-law dropped him  off I bundled him  inside and 
we went upstairs to get changed. I took the Corvette. Even though 
I still needed to fix the cooling problem, it was only a few blocks 
and I figured that I needed the ego boost. I didn't see the boy 
until we were in the pool area, he was playing basketball with 
another boy, shooting the occasional hoop, as he moved with an 
elegant grace around the court. He noticed me and tried to wave, 
missing the ball as he lunged upward and nearly loosing his balance 
at the same time. He came down hard enough to break or sprain an 
ankle but it didn't seem to slow him down as he twisted to one side, 
then, with what seemed an effortless motion, jumped backward, spun 
around and went after the other boy who now had possession of the 
ball.

 I took my son into the water for his warm-up practice swim, 
we still had about ten minutes until the instructor arrived. 
Unfortunately, once we were in the pool, it was impossible to see 
the basketball court. The ten minutes passed slowly, then we 
climbed out as the instructor came over to the side of the pool. I 
walked over to the chaise longue we had staked out with our towels 
and dried off before I sat down. The boys had left the basketball 
court and I scanned the area trying to see him. There was no sign 
of a boy that looked even remotely like him. Perhaps he was in the 
changing room, or upstairs getting a snack, or... any one of a 
thousand places. I wondered if I should go for a walk around the 
building, perhaps he was on the front deck, where I'd seen him once 
before. Perhaps he'd gone home. No, not that, I decided, knowing 
that he was around somewhere and that sooner or later he'd be back 
where I could see him.

 I settled out on the chair, trying to be patient but feeling 
a desperate longing build up inside me. While there were a few other 
boys around the pool none of them were worth watching, not after 
him, not after I'd spoken with him. I watched my son swimming, he 
was by far the best of the bunch now, a very different kid from 
when he'd cried and shrieked when I first let him go in the water. 
About ten minutes passed before I sensed the boy's presence just a 
few feet away. He was dressed in, yes you guessed it, the long- 
sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up his slender brown arms and 
shorts, but his feet were bare. He had approached very quietly and 
I was startled. He smiled even as I smiled at him. All I could get 
out was, "Oh! Hi."

The boy grinned cheekily, "Did I startle you?" he asked.

"Yeah... you did. Well I made it to the pool" I said.

"So I see. You got the paint off too," he teased playfully, 
"The last time I saw you there was more paint on you than on the 
garage."

We laughed, "I was a bit of a mess, wasn't I. It's pretty messy 
when you paint up in the air, when the paint drops off the brush 
it goes all over you." 

We looked at each other silently, thinking of what to say 
next.

"You going to do some diving?" I asked.

The boy shrugged, "Maybe later on."

"You want to sit down here?" I asked nervously. I thought I 
heard my own voice tremble, just like a teenager asking for his 
first date. The boy shrugged again, momentarily sucked his bottom 
lip pensively, and then shrugged his shoulders again nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I guess," he said as he dropped down onto the chair 
beside mine.

There was a moment of silence, then I said, "Heh, my name is 
Alex, what's yours?"

The boy grinned, "Oh," he answered in surprise, then as if he 
had to remember, hesitated before he said, "Dylan".

"Happy to meet you Dylan", I smiled, reaching out with my 
right hand toward the boy. What a perfect name for such a perfect 
specimen of a boy. Dylan hesitated, unsure of my outstretched hand, 
he swallowed nervously then he said awkwardly, "Oh, hi!", as his 
right hand reached outward me. That first touch was unforgettable, 
the boy's hand was warm and small with a slight moistness, his 
fingers seemed strong as they gripped mine, the skin was incredibly 
soft compared to my own. I glanced down at the boy's hand held in 
mine, then when I looked up, I met his eyes with mine. The boy 
smiled shyly, almost embarrassed by shaking my hand, then he looked 
away. I wanted to linger, to keep on holding his hand, but I knew 
better, and I released him.

"She's doing hisarms much better now," the boy observed.

I looked over towards my son, "Yes he is, isn't he. It'll be 
a long while before he can swim as well as you though."

The boy grinned back at me, his perfect teeth were a pure 
white, his lips were dark and passionately shaped. His eyes 
sparkled, they were a pale blue, like the sky at the horizon, his 
eyebrows were fine lines a little darker than his hair. "So why 
don't you do laps while he's having a lesson?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. I guess it's more fun sitting here and 
watching people," I mumbled, after all I could hardly tell Dylan 
that I sat there waiting to see him.

Dylan smiled, "I think I'll go for a swim. So do you want to 
do laps with me," he asked.

"Huh? Oh! yeah, if you want to", I said, then added, "You'll 
have to go slow though."

Dylan laughed as he leaped to his feet, "Okay, I'll be right 
back, I gotta change first," he called back as he half-walked, 
half-ran towards the changing room. 

 A few minutes latter he was back, dressed in the same blue 
swimming costume that he'd worn the last time, the time when I'd 
watched him diving. "Come on," he grinned. For a few all-too-brief 
seconds I feasted my eyes on his body. He was the epitome of 
boyhood, his body was lean and lithe, but not skinny, with firm 
muscles that rippled under his delicious brown skin. There was a 
golden lustre, a glow of youth and vitality that emanated from him, 
an absolute perfection of proportion and contour. My eyes began at 
his head and rapidly traversed down in a well-remembered glance. 
The boy still had the body of a young boy, without the changes of 
late pubescence, his shoulders, though well muscled, still sloped 
downward, there was a beautiful slenderness to his torso, a narrow 
waist and ribs that were clearly defined with tiny nipples, nearly 
the same color as his well-tanned chest and almost 
indistinguishable. A gentle depression began at this through, led 
downward to mark the center- line of his chest, then became the 
taut muscles of his belly. His perfect symmetry was accented by a 
small navel that was indented, and partially covered by a little 
fold of soft skin. His stomach muscles finally tapered into his 
swimming costume as it covered his groin. There was a small fold 
in his costume, accentuated by the slenderness of his hips and 
waist that hinted at the presence of his genitals beneath. For a 
moment I considered if the fold in the nylon reflected how big he 
was or whether it was merely incidental. Even as I lifted my eyes 
upward I wondered whether the boy still lingered at the beginning 
of puberty, the absence of a larger bulge in his swimming costume 
and the fact that he seemed so slender and smooth-skinned suggested 
that he had not begun to mature. He smiled slightly, almost shyly, 
as if aware of my concentrated gaze, and I smiled back.

We walked over to the lap pool. Luckily the far lane was unused 
and we took up positions, Dylan on the diving stand and me standing 
beside him at the edge of the pool. "On your mark,... set... go", 
he said, as his lithe brown body sprang forward like an arrow. I 
had a momentary glimpse as he rocketed into the water, before I 
followed him. Of course I knew that there was no way I could keep 
up with him, he moved gracefully, brown slender arms sweeping 
through the water with unexpected power, demonstrating (showing 
off) that he as much fish as he was boy. I swam as fast as I could, 
but he still pulled away, further and further until he was more 
than two lengths in front and that was before we reached the other 
end. Dylan turned with a somersault, then breached the surface as 
I came up to him. I caught a glimpse of a big grin as his face came 
out and before it went back into the water. He swam a few more 
lengths then stopped, now almost four lengths in front because of 
my clumsy turn-around. He swam lazily, breast-stroking, as I came 
up.

"Like I said, you'll have to go slow, real slow," I laughed, 
playfully splashing water at him. "You're a lot younger than me." 
The boy grinned as he splashed me back, "You're a great swimmer, 
maybe I should hire you to teach my son how to swim." He smiled as 
I added, "So champ, how old are you anyway?" I added.

"Twelve,... just, 'coupla weeks ago," he said as he began to 
breast-stroke faster, pulling away again. He slowed again almost 
as soon he had demonstrated his fish-like skill again. His body was 
so slender that the water seemed to offer almost no resistance, he 
didn't swim, this boy slid through the water with practically no 
effort. After that Dylan swam next to me, or just a few feet in 
front as we did lap after lap. A few times out bodies touched and 
I felt what might be described as "electricity", though it wasn't 
a shock, just a wonderful tingling sensation that made my heart 
rate go up a few notches. Every so often we'd break from free-style 
to breast-stroke and then we'd talk. Dylan seemed to open up to me 
in the water, it was as if the water washed away his inhibitions 
and by the time we'd finally climbed out I knew that he was an only 
child, he lived with his mother, he didn't remember his father, and 
he was changing schools in the Fall.

 I would have gone on swimming next to the boy until I was too 
weak to move but my reverie was interrupted by seeing my son 
standing next to the pool, obviously hislesson had finished. We 
climbed out and I introduced Dylan, almost proudly. With the nylon 
of his wet swimming costume clinging to his thighs and buttocks I 
had a tantalizing view of his boy-genitals. Even though that part 
of his young body was contracted from the cool water there was a 
small, but prominent bulge, not an erection but from the shape of 
his penis outlined beneath the wet nylon. I fancied that I could 
see the tiny ridge that formed at the little helmet-head. Of course 
that would mean that the boy was circumcised..., his penis seemed 
to protrude, sticking outward slightly as if lifted by his balls. 
It was only with the greatest effort that I finally dragged my eyes 
away.

 In the next few minutes I saw a new and wonderful side of the 
boy as he led my son off to the other pool and I watched them 
splashing and laughing together. He did cannonballs into the water 
with ridiculous motions, he dove and swam between hisoutstretched 
legs, floated on his back then gradually submerged, and a dozen 
other antics that left both of them giggling. I joined them and for 
the next thirty minutes we played and romped without a care in the 
world. But best of all was when Dylan climbed up on me so that his 
feet were in my hands and then leaped up and outward as I lifted 
up as hard and fast as I could, doing back-flips with seemingly no 
effort at all. It left me feeling very close to the startlingly 
beautiful young boy who had just come into my life and it left my 
son in a fit of giggles.

 All too soon it was over, Dylan had to get dressed and meet 
his mom at the gate at 7.00 pm. As we climbed out and towelled off 
he looked at me shyly as he asked, "You guys coming here tomorrow?"

"Huh, yeah I guess so, but you'll have to promise to swim 
slower," I teased playfully, knowing that our friendship had grown 
to the point where he'd appreciated my company.

"Great, I see you round six, okay, in the lap pool," he 
grinned, as he started towards the exit gate.

I sadly watched him leave, then turned to my son as he said, 
"I like Dylan. He's nice"

"Huh, oh yes, he's a nice kid isn't he," I replied with a smile 
as I added, "I met him while you were having a swimming lesson." 
We left shortly afterwards, there didn't seem to be much point in 
staying any longer.

The next day we were back at the pool right at 5.30 pm. There 
was no sign of Dylan and I felt quite sad. I'd thought of nothing 
else except him since the previous evening. That morning I'd laid 
in bed dreaming of the boy as I masturbated feverishly, fondly 
remembering his perfect beauty, the smoothness of his lean brown 
body, the small bulge in the wet nylon of his swimming costume, his 
infectious grin.... My son and I practised hisswimming, 
concentrating on getting hishead into the water, then out again 
after three strokes. It was only after half an hour, when hislesson 
was scheduled to begin, that I became aware of someone else, and 
as I swivelled around, saw Dylan standing at the edge of the pool 
watching us. Unlike the previous day, he'd discarded his blue 
swimming costume in favor of the brightly colored Speedos that the 
swimming-team boys wore. It was low-cut or maybe a size too small 
for him, the nylon barely covering his pubis, his genitals forming 
a small rounded bulge. 

"Hi Dylan," I grinned, "looks like you're going to beat me 
again today, huh?" I said.

He grinned back at me as he shrugged, then stepped forward to 
the very edge of the pool as if he was going to dive in. Instead 
he dipped the toes of one foot into the water, as if to test the 
temperature, then kicked quickly sending a spray of water over me. 
I laughed as I splashed him back, the water droplets glistening on 
his smooth brown legs as they trickled downward. I sent my son off 
to the other kids already gathered at the shallow end of the pool, 
then climbed out. Dylan grinned cheekily, "So, let's go for a swim, 
what are we waiting for?"

We went over to the lap pool and repeated the events of the 
previous day, only this time Dylan seemed less communicative. I 
found out only a little more about him. Like me, his mother was an 
associate professor at the university, but in 'romance languages.' 
I teased Dylan about what the language of romance was, but my feeble 
joke seemed lost on him. 

Finally I asked the boy what the problem was. He was silent 
for nearly a minute, then answered, "I told my mom about meeting 
you. She said it probably wasn't a good idea. Like I shouldn't be 
talking to strange men at the pool. I told her you were married, 
'n had a kid, and you were nice, but she still wasn't happy with 
the idea. She didn't want me to come today."

"Oh! Well I guess she's right you know," I answered, "if you 
were my son, I'm not sure I'd want you to go around talking to 
strange men either."

Dylan grinned then playfully splashed water at me. I stopped 
swimming and stood up, brushing the water from my face, "If you 
like, Dylan, I'll come out with you when she picks you up this 
evening. That way she'll at least know who I am," I offered. 

"Would you? I,... I think that'd help, if she knew you," the 
boy said gratefully.

I wondered then whether he'd fought with his mother, perhaps 
even disobeyed a direct order when he'd come to the pool. Perhaps 
his mother sensed her son's unusual interest, my affection for her 
very attractive son being inappropriate.

After we'd completed a few more laps it was nearly 6.30 and 
when my son came to the side of the pool we climbed out. I glanced 
down at Dylan's body, but was disappointed to see that while the 
taut nylon was clinging to his thighs, it revealed little more than 
his other swimming costume. When I looked up I realized that the 
boy had noticed that my attention has been focused on his groin. I 
smiled and raised my eyebrows inquisitively, then asked, "So Dylan, 
does the reduction in friction offset the increase in turbulence?"

"Huh?" the boy replied.

"Are they any faster than your blue costume?" I repeated.

"Yeah, I s'pose they don't drag as much," he answered.

"Well they look good on you," I observed as I wondered whether 
the boy heard the excited tremble in my voice or realized that I 
could barely drag my eyes away from his narrow thighs and the small 
rounded lump that bulged from between his slender legs. He didn't 
say anything as he towelled himself dry with brisk hard rubbing, 
then he looked down at me as I sat on the chair to put my shoes on.

"Thanks for coming to meet my mom," he said. "She's probably 
waiting outside for me now. I better go see her before she get's 
mad at me."

"Well come on then," I said, getting to my feet and, taking 
my son by the hand, followed Dylan out to the car park. By the time 
we had reached the gate Dylan was forty feet in front, and he went 
over to the side of a car that was stopped in the drop-off area. 
His mother was attractive and blond-headed, just like her beautiful 
young son. She was driving a cream-colored convertible with the top 
down, a Volkswagen Passat, a car which looks remarkably like a box 
on wheels. Dylan went to the passenger side and spoke to his mother 
for a moment. I could see her talking to him, then Dylan said 
something back to her. She nodded and the boy twisted around, and 
beckoned to us to come over.

My son and I walked up and Dylan smiled slightly, shyly, 
apparently embarrassed by having to introduce me to his mother. I 
took over, nervously reaching over the door to shake the woman's 
hand. "Hi, my name is Alex, Alex Weston," I said as I smiled as 
reassuringly as I could, "And this is my son, Kelly."

"Hello," she said, still uncertain, then paused for and 
instant, "I'm Diane Brady."

"Dylan tells me you're at the university. Associate professor, 
Romance Languages right? I guess we've got a lot in common, I'm an 
associate professor in automotive design and engineering."

"Oh! I didn't realize, he didn't say anything about you being 
at the university too. Dylan wants to be an car designer when he 
grow up, don't you honey?" she said.

The boy looked surprised as he turned to me, then he nodded 
awkwardly, looking away from me as he answered 'Yeah, I guess so."

I realized that he'd suddenly become very self-conscious, then 
I realized it was probably because his mother had called him 
'honey' in front of me. I grinned at Dylan playfully, "Well I hope 
so, he certainly is bright enough. Your son can swim like a fish, 
I can barely keep up with him even when he swims slowly. He's even 
been helping me teach Kelly how to swim."

"I hope he hasn't been a nuisance," Diane said uncertainly.

"Dylan? Hardly, he's a great teacher, my son listens more to 
what he says than he does when I say it. I hope we'll see him here 
tomorrow evening?"

"I, well I suppose so. That's up to Dylan. If he's not 
bothering you?" she replied.

"Great", I smiled, "See you tomorrow Dylan, say round 5.30 
again?"

"Huh? Oh yes, I'll be here 'bout then. I'll see you tomorrow," 
he said as he opened the car door and slid down into the bucket 
seat. We watched them drive off and I hoped that Dylan would turn 
around or wave but he didn't.


Chapter 3.

The next day I was sitting in my office working on the computer 
when the phone rang. I was about halfway through the design of a 
rear spoiler using a simulation program I'd developed a year ago 
and I didn't like the interruption to my work. The phone rang again, 
persistently so I scooted my chair over and away from the computer 
and picked it up. The voice was on the other end was a woman's and 
for an instant it was unfamiliar. "Hello, is this Professor 
Weston?" 

I was surprised because I thought that I recognized the voice 
and for an instant I didn't say anything other than "Yes?"

She continued, "This is Diane Brady. I'm Dylan's mom, we met 
yesterday?"

In a flash all my fears came at once, she was calling to tell 
me to keep away from her beautiful young son. I swallowed, 
nervously, hesitated a moment and then said, "Oh, hi. It was a 
pleasure to meet you."

"I just wanted to call and say that I'm glad we met yesterday. 
I hope I'm haven't interrupted anything. Dylan's talked a lot about 
you. I must tell you that I wasn't at all happy with him hanging 
around with strange men at the pool." 

"I'm glad we met too, Mrs... Ms... Brady. He's a great kid," 
I said honestly.

"Call me Diane, please. Well I just wanted to call and say... 
well that I feel that Dylan's in good hands. Well good-bye..." she 
tailed off.

"Diane, it's nearly lunch time, perhaps I can meet you for 
lunch," I said quickly.

There was a brief hesitation on the other end then she said, 
"Yes, yes I think that would be a good idea. I'd like to. I don't 
know anyone that I can talk to about Dylan. He seems to really like 
you."

I breathed out in relief, my fears dispelled. "I have a 
meeting this afternoon at 1.30, we'd have to go now. The faculty 
club is open, can we meet in the foyer in say ten minutes?"

Ten minutes later I was standing in the foyer as Diane 
entered. "Hi," I said, "I've already got a table, non-smoking 
okay?"

The woman smiled, "That's good. I'm afraid I'm a few minutes 
late, it's been hectic this morning. I'm working on a book and the 
publisher wanted me to fax back some galleys."

"I know the feeling," I said, leading the way into the dining 
area and over to the table. We didn't talk as we scanned the menus, 
then ordered salads and ice teas. Finally Diane looked up at me and 
breathed out, "Whew, it's nice to slow down for a while. So much 
for the easy life of the academic."

I grinned, "Books are always a pain in the neck. They're more 
work than they're worth. With publish or perish, I think I'd take 
the latter."

Diane smiled, "Maybe. But seeing your name of the front cover 
is always nice."

I laughed, turning around as our ice teas were placed on the 
table. "Thanks", I said, then turned back to Diane, "I'm sorry that 
we have to rush lunch."

"That's okay. I have to get back myself, but I did want to 
talk about Dylan. Perhaps you... well maybe you can help."

"Sure. I doubt if I can, but fire away."

She looked down, "Right now Dylan's going through a difficult 
period. He's always been a sweet kid, now he's just difficult."

"As his age he's probably starting to go through puberty. It 
does that to boys sometimes," I replied. "All those extra hormones 
are something of a shock."

"Maybe but I don't think so. Not yet anyway. He's always been 
a loner, maybe one friend or two at the most. About a week ago he 
had a fight with his best friend. Now he just mopes around. I've 
never seen him this depressed. I don't know what on earth has gotten 
into him. He's a very sensitive boy. Usually we can talk, but now 
he's started to clam right up."

I shrugged, "Kids go through a non-communicative stage too. I 
remember I did. I was probably a few years older than Dylan."

"No. It isn't that. I really thing it's a much deeper 
problem."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Why don't you tell me more."

"I don't know how to start, maybe at the beginning. Dylan's 
father left just after he was born, so... well Dylan's never known 
his father. I haven't married again. I guess... well I guess I don't 
want to go through it all again. Anyway, Dylan's... I don't know 
how to put this... I suppose he needs a father... He needs a... a 
role model." The woman looked up at me expectantly.

I nodded reassuringly, "Probably does. He's at that age isn't 
he."

She smiled and shrugged, "It's kind of hard for me to do the 
kind of things with him that he needs."

I smiled, "I s'pose so. Don't you know someone that could take 
him on. Aren't there any men in your department into camping, 
fishing, and football?"

Diane looked up, "If you knew...," she began to laugh. "The 
only one that isn't married is gay. I mean really gay, not just 
open about it, he flaunts it. You might even say effeminate. I don't 
think he'd know a football from a baseball, and as for camping, I 
shudder to think."

"Not exactly the kind of role model for a twelve year old boy, 
huh?" I acknowledged.

Diane nodded, "Not exactly. It isn't that I would hate Dylan 
to be gay. I don't think any mother wants that for her son, but if 
he is, well... I certainly don't want him to be like Adrian."

"So what you want is a rugged masculine guy?" I teased.

Diane started to laugh, finally relaxing, "Yes, something like 
that."

"You know there are Big Brothers for that kind of thing," I 
suggested.

"I know. I even suggested that to Dylan a week or two ago. He 
got very angry at me for suggesting that one."

I smiled, "Well, I don't know what to suggest. 

"Dylan really likes you a lot. He told me all about swimming 
with you. He's as happy as he's ever been. You're good for him, he 
needs someone like you. I mean. well if you could spend some time 
with him, I think that's what he needs."

"I guess so," I said, trying to hide the joy that welled up 
inside me. "He's a great kid. My son likes having him around too. 
It's someone to play with, even if he is a 'boy'."

Our lunch arrived and for the next twenty minutes we ate and 
talked, sharing the problems that confront the faculty of any one 
of a thousand universities in the country. Finally, just we stood 
up Diane looked at me seriously, "You know, I'm glad Dylan met you. 
I think you're going to be good for him."

I smiled and shrugged, "I'll see him at the pool this 
afternoon I s'pose?"

Diane nodded, "That was his plan at breakfast. One thing?"

"Huh?" 

"I don't think that Dylan should know that we had this talk. 
After the way he carried on when I suggested that he get a Big 
Brother, well... he might not like me interfering with his 
friendship with you."

"I think you're right. I'm sure we'll get Dylan back to his 
old self", I added as we walked into the foyer. I glanced at my 
watch, just five minutes to get back and print off my notes for the 
meeting, "I'd better run. It was nice seeing you again. I'll see 
you 'round campus," I added as I headed out the door, my heart going 
about twice its normal rate.

That afternoon and the next I met Dylan at the pool and we 
swam our customary laps. Each day the boy seemed to get friendlier 
and more at ease. After our swim we would rough-house in the water, 
tossing the eighty pound boy high into the air, diving down in the 
ten-foot-deep section of the pool chasing the plastic rings that 
my son tossed in, splashing each other in a fit of giggles. The 
following week it rained two days and it wasn't until Thursday that 
we got to the pool. The sky was broken by fits of angry grey clouds 
that threatened rain but we still went to the pool.

Almost as soon as we parked the car and entered the pool area, 
Dylan sauntered up and grinned. He was wearing his Speedos again 
and nothing else. I ran my eyes down and then up his body in silent 
admiration. God he was beautiful, and sexy too. Every day since 
that first time together in the pool I'd masturbated with ever 
increasing frequency, always thinking about Dylan. By now I was 
past the point of no return, ready to take any risk, if the reward 
was Dylan. Instantly I started to get an erection and I casually 
lifted my leg up onto the chaise longue to hide it. Gradually it 
faded as I forced my mind to concentrate on anything else except 
the beautiful, nearly naked boy next to me.

After commiserating about the lousy weather my son went off 
to hisswimming lessons and Dylan and I headed off to the lap pool. 
We swam for half an hour then went over to join my son. Our water 
games were interrupted after fifteen minutes when the first big 
droplets of rain splattered into the pool. A minute later we were 
sheltering under the deck as the rain came down in earnest.

"So much for swimming today," I laughed.

Dylan looked out at the now steadily falling rain, "It's 
probably drier in the pool," he observed as he towelled himself 
dry. "What a pain. My mom's not going to pick me up till seven 
tonight."

"We'll give you a lift home, won't we Kelly. It'll be a squeeze 
but you'll fit. You guys wait here and I'll pull the car around to 
the front," I said seeing a break in the rain.

I dashed out, running quickly, and got to the car just as the 
rain began to fall harder. I fumbled with my keys, finally got the 
door opened and dropped down into the seat. I started the car, 
backed out of my parking spot and drove as close as I could to the 
front gate. I opened the passenger-side door and waved to the kids. 
A moment later Dylan and Kelly came running like two wet rabbits, 
towels flying behind them. Dylan came through the open door first, 
pulling his bag after him and I dragged over towards me to make 
room for my son in the other seat. Eighty plus pounds of wet, 
wriggling, giggling boy landed on my lap. Unable to resist, I 
tickled him furiously, my fingers probing under his arms and ribs 
as he laughed and twisted hysterically. My erection returned with 
a surge as adrenaline screamed through my heart. Almost instantly 
my cock was engorged and my hard-on was pushing into Dylan's 
buttocks, straining against my own swimming costume and the taut 
nylon of the boy's Speedos. His skin was incredibly soft, 
glistening and slippery with the rain, emanating a pleasurable 
warmth. Was it my imagination that Dylan pressed down even harder 
onto my cock, almost rubbing himself against it, surely he could 
feel the hot hardness underneath him. My brain shrieked out in 
almost futile resistance, then my impulse died as I remembered my 
son sitting only inches away. Still laughing I pushed Dylan away, 
"It's gonna be real hard driving the car with you here."

The boy giggled, perching himself uncomfortably on the 
transmission hump, with his slender brown legs next to my son's. 
"This better? This sure is a great car Alex, I've never been in a 
Corvette before."

I started the engine, 350 horsepower sending a gurgling 
vibration through the chassis, and engaged first gear, easing out 
the clutch. The car leaped forward and I powered it on down the 
driveway, just short of spinning the wheels. There are very few 
twelve-year-old boys who can resist the thrill of a fast car and 
Dylan was not exception. He gripped the seats beside him and let 
out one loud 'Wow' as we hurtled through first and second gears, 
then braked hard at the corner. I accelerated up to sixty, twice 
the legal limit before backing off. I glanced sideways at Dylan. 
He had the biggest grin I'd even seen.

I followed the boy's directions to his house. He lived in a 
duplex, he and his mom on the ground floor and a tenant on the 
second floor. It was a nice place, brick and stone, maybe sixty 
years old, with a large sycamore tree in the front yard. By then 
the rain had eased off and Dylan slide over my son and out the door 
after we'd said good-bye, and he had gushed effusively about the 
car's acceleration. 


Chapter 4. Twenty Questions.

The next day the rain seemed to have departed and we headed 
up to the pool as usual, but a few minutes late. The swim lessons 
had already started so my son went off to join hisgroup. The wind 
was blowing so I selected a seat behind the pump-room wall in the 
sun. There was no sign of Dylan and for some reason I didn't feel 
much like swimming by myself. I looked around again and again, 
hoping to see the boy. Somehow I was certain that he would be here 
today.

I didn't have long to wait, after a few minutes Dylan walked 
up and sat down on the seat next to mine. "Hi," he said.

"Hi yourself. Well is the lap pool as usual so you can beat 
me again," I teased.

The boy shrugged, "Yeah, if you want. I'd rather talk but."

"Sure."

"You're my friend right?" he asked uncertainly.

"Huh huh, I'd say so."

Dylan looked away and took a deep breath, letting it out 
slowly with a sigh, "So,..." he asked, then paused, "Can I ask you 
a kind of personal question."

I glanced at the boy, "Huh huh," I said absently.

"Well...", he began then paused, summoning his courage, "When 
you were a boy... say about my age, did you... well.... play with 
it? You know...?"

I swallowed, feeling a sudden thrill, "Huh?" I responded."

"You know... play with your dick... your penis? You know... 
jerk off"

I grinned, "Come on Dylan, every boy masturbates, plays with 
his penis, at one time or another."

"So... did you jerk off... masturbate when you were a boy? 
Masturbate... is that the right word?" he asked insistently.

"It is. Yeah, of course I did." I laughed, trying to pretend 
uninterested, feeling my heart surge with adrenaline, then 
realizing the need for caution, added, "This probably isn't 
something you should discuss with me, is it?"

"Sure, I should ask my mom huh," he retorted angrily. "If I 
can't ask you then who can I talk about it with."

"Heh Dylan, don't get uptight, it's okay to talk about sex 
with me... if you want to." That was a close one. Dylan looked away 
pretending to pout. It didn't last long, his interest was aroused 
now, he needed answers.

"So... did you do it a lot?" asked again, his confidence 
returning suddenly.

"What is this? Twenty questions? Yeah, I guess I did it a lot. 
I still do."

He paused a moment trying to frame the follow-up question. 
There was no way to avoid it, "Yeah? You still do it. But you're 
so old. I mean a grown up,... So did you... do it with any of your 
friends... when you were my age?" he blurted out.

I grinned, "Huh huh. I think a lot of boys experiment with 
each other around your age. It's a perfectly normal part of growing 
up. I don't think that playing around with your friends is bad, 
though a lot of grown-ups probably wouldn't agree with that."

"But doesn't it make you gay? If you play around too much?" 
he asked awkwardly.

"Hardly. Boys need to learn about their bodies," I answered, 
then added, "A boy might be gay, if he is, then he'll probably enjoy 
it more than other boys and as he gets older he doesn't grow out 
of it."

"Oh!" Dylan was silent for a moment. "So can I ask you another 
personal question?"

"Huh huh, if you want." I answered.

"Well..., when you... masturbated... well what did you think 
about?" he mumbled nervously.

"That's pretty personal, don't you think?" I teased, wondering 
whether Dylan would be shocked when I told him.

"Yeah I guess so... You don't have to answer, if you don't 
want," he replied as he reddened slightly.

I laughed, "Okay, don't get embarrassed," I teased. "If you 
really want to know, I thought about doing it with boys."

"Yeah!" he said incredulously. "So can I ask you another 
question, but this one is really personal? You don't have to answer 
if you don't want to."

"I guess. Fire away Dylan." I smiled at the boy reassuringly, 
wondering what his quick mind and very fertile imagination were up 
to. It didn't take long to find out.

"Well... you said you still do it... masturbate right? So... 
well... what do you think about now?" he asked hesitantly.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Little blond 
boys... if you must know."

He reddened visibly, "Huh?" he mumbled.

"Little blond boys," I repeated.

He blushed even more, his face now turning a reddish hue in 
embarrassment. He was silent, lost for words as he tried to 
understand. Finally, unable to hold back, he blurted out, "Like me? 
About boys like me?"

"Huh huh, you're blond aren't you?" I teased.

"But you're... you're married, aren't you?"

"Being married doesn't mean that I can't be turned on by boys 
like you," I answered gently.

Dylan fell silent again, trying to deal with this new piece 
of information. "Yeah, I guess," he said quietly, then slowly he 
looked up at me, his eyes alight with curiosity, "Do you really 
think about me?" he asked, his voice trembling with building 
excitement and enthusiasm.

"What do you think?" I replied, putting the boy on the spot 
as I added, "And what do you think about when you masturbate Dylan?" 
I asked. 

I doubted whether Dylan could have gotten any redder but he 
did, his face quickly turning an almost scarlet shade as he tried 
to look away. When he spoke it was barely a whisper, "You... if you 
must know. Ever since the first time I saw you, I started thinking 
about you, okay."

"It's nothing to feel bad about Dylan," I said reassuringly, 
"In fact I kind of feel honored. Is it my turn for twenty questions 
now?" I teased.

He nodded, his long golden-blond hair shaking. Unable to look 
back at me he focused his attention on the wall beside us.

"Well, I already know what you think about when you 
masturbate..." I teased, "So I guess the next question if how often 
you do it? Of course that's pretty personal too, so you don't have 
to answer unless you want to."

"Huh, how often,... most every night I s'pose. Sometimes in 
the mornings too, 'fore I get up," he answered quietly, his voice 
trembling.

"Good, that's nothing to be ashamed of you know, Most boys 
your age get the urge a lot," I laughed, then added, "And you think 
about me as you do it right?" Dylan nodded. "Okay, next question. 
So when you think about me, what do you think?"

Dylan's voice was little more than a whisper, "That's too 
personal... okay?"

"Okay. Well next question. Do you play around with any of your 
friends?"

Dylan looked at me angrily, "Huh. Yeah a bit, at least I did 
a while ago. With my best friend, Gary, at least he was my best 
friend back then. We jerked off some. Then one time when I wanted 
to do more stuff, he backed out and didn't want to. He got kind of 
angry and then he called me a faggot and said I was gay. The shit-
head even told some of the guys at school that I was."

"That's too bad, I'm sorry he did that to you Dylan. It wasn't 
right," I said gently. "What did you want to do that made him 
angry?"

Dylan's face had lost some of its red hue but he blushed again, 
"You got to promise never to tell anyone, okay?" I nodded 
seriously, I knew this was going to be good. "Well... first I wanted 
us to suck each other's dicks. He said it was gross but he did that 
okay. I could tell he wasn't that interested. I should have 
realized then, but I didn't." He stopped, looking away as the 
memory came back to haunt him, "Promise you won't tell anyone?" he 
asked again. I nodded once more. "Well... then I wanted him to... 
put his dick... in my backside," the boy blurted out shamefully. 
"He got really angry, and that's when he started to call be queer 
and.... Well I,... well I just wanted to see what it felt like. 
Okay! It doesn't mean I'm gay does it?" he added fearfully.

"Of course it's okay Dylan," I reassured the boy. "It doesn't 
mean you're gay. You're still much too young to know. Most boys go 
through a stage; they experiment with each other, most of them grow 
out of it. You might,... then again you might not, it's just too 
soon to tell."

"Oh", Dylan swallowed. "But what if...? Well what if...? It 
doesn't matter...."

"Ready for the next question?" I asked. Dylan nodded. "When 
you masturbate, does anything come out?"

"Huh? Oh! Out of my dick, you mean can I come yet? Kind of, a 
little drop of clear stuff sometimes comes out at the end. But I 
have to do it for a long while, but nothing else, it's not white 
or anything. White stuff would come spurting out of Gary's dick, 
when he jerked off, but then he was nearly a whole year older than 
me. I guess I'm still too young to come properly. I haven't even 
got any hair down there yet."

We sat side by side both sensing what lay before us, both 
afraid to break the silence, and open the door to what confronted 
us now. Dylan's youthful self-confidence won the day, "So, I have 
another question for you okay, it's really personal but? So you 
don't..."

"Have to answer unless I want," I finished. "Fire away, Dylan, 
and I'll decide."

"Okay, well when you think about me, well what do you think 
about,... exactly?"

he asked shyly.

"Exactly?" I asked teasingly. The boy nodded slightly. "You 
want all the dirty details?"

"Yeah!" he smirked playfully.

"You might find it a bit embarrassing, you know," I teased.

"So? I don't mind. So what do you think about? Tell me all the 
details!" he insisted.

I laughed, unable to resist the boy. It was more than 
flirting, the boy's deliberate challenge clearly intended to go 
much further than merely satisfying his curiosity. Like me, he was 
excited, his young body so aroused that he was barely able to 
control himself. He trembled with anticipation, born of a primal 
urge that had dwelled within him for as long as he could remember. 
I knew without looking that my cock was erect. The insistent 
throbbing and tightness in my swimming shorts was matched by the 
same hardness between Dylan's slender brown legs, the small bulge 
now slightly larger than it had been just minutes earlier. I 
wondered how far Dylan would go.

"Heh, I asked you first remember?" I laughed.

The boy shrugged nonchalantly, trying to appear relaxed, but 
inside his heart was pounding and his breathing quickened. "You 
first, okay?" he giggled.

"Why?" I teased, wondering what Dylan would think of me when 
I told I dreamed of fucking his beautiful slender body, of holding 
his golden-blond head and thrusting my cock back into his throat, 
of sucking his little-boy cock until it was red-raw.

"'cause you're older than me?" he giggled. Dylan moved his 
legs trying to hide his erection, so hard now that it had become 
uncomfortable.

"Okay, I'll go first, I guess." I paused for a moment, letting 
the silence sink in. It heightened the drama as I said, "I dream 
about making love to you Dylan."

Needless to say Dylan blushed still more, "Y...yeah", he 
stammered in obvious embarrassment. He swallowed nervously, took a 
deep breath, "You got to promise never to tell, okay?" I nodded. 
"I,... I pretend that, don't laugh okay,... I pretend that you 
teach me about sex." I smiled at the boy encouragingly and he 
realized that I wasn't angry. "I pretend that you teach me 
EVERYTHING. Even... about what I tried to get Gary to do.... Not 
just suck each other's dicks, but the other thing as well. Do you 
mind?" he asked awkwardly.

"Do I mind? Of course not Dylan, I'm honored. You're a very 
beautiful young boy. If I had the chance, I'd love to teach you 
EVERYTHING!" I said honestly.

Dylan grinned, looking up at me with his innocent blue eyes, 
"Everything? But I didn't think that you were... well gay or 
anything..." he said. 

I shrugged. "So tell me, do you dream about putting your dick 
inside my butt?" he teased.

"All the time," I answered honestly. "You know Dylan, this 
conversation is getting a bit out of control," I added. 

"How do you mean, 'out of control'?" he asked, his teasing 
voice revealing his intense excitement.

I laughed at the boy's pretense of innocence. "You know 
exactly what I mean Dylan. We're sitting here, both of us with very 
hard penises, talking about having sex. It's making you excited in 
a way that probably shouldn't occur until you're much older. You're 
barely twelve and I'm old enough to be your father."

Dylan's grin faded instantly and his crestfallen eyes pulled 
away to look down at his feet. The silence seemed endless, we were 
close to a precipice, which both us knew, opened into a bottomless 
chasm. We needed to back away, everything was happening too fast. 
"Are you angry?" the boy muttered at last. "I'm sorry."

"Dylan, there's nothing to be sorry about, really there 
isn't."

"I wish you were my father," the boy said bluntly, slowly 
lifting his eyes to look at me.

I smiled, gazing into the boy's eyes, awed by the intensity 
within him. The boy's sparkling sky-blue eyes and glistening 
golden-blond seemed to defy my demanding urge

to defile his beautiful body, the depravity of his own desire, 
that now finally awakened, would torment him until he understood 
it.

Unable to deal with his intense feelings, he changed the 
direction of the discussion. "So when you were my age, did you do 
anything else besides jerk off,... masturbate... with your 
friends?" He grinned slowing as he added, "Did you do what I tried 
to do with Gary?"

I smiled as I answered him, "Huh huh. Like I said, a lot of 
boys mess around together when they're about your age. I guess I'm 
no exception."

"Did you... you know do IT?" he continued, his insatiable 
curiosity driving him onward.

I pretended ignorance, "Huh, do what?"

"You know!", he smirked cheekily, "...Back there," he finally 
added after a long pause.

"Oh that! Yeah, I guess so." I teased playfully aware of 
Dylan's building excitement, the nervous bubbling energy of youth 
almost overwhelming the boy. He was practically shivering, his 
voice, though quiet, was trembling as he put the next question.

"Did you... did you... like it? Did it... hurt?" he asked at 
last, as he looked downward and away from me to the ground as if 
ashamed, or afraid of the answer.

"Huh? Oh yeah I s'pose so. It was a long time ago, but I really 
don't remember it hurting," I said casually. How long had it been 
since those first inexperienced and tentative explorations with my 
friends. Thirty years. I smiled at Dylan as I admitted to him, "We 
were pretty inexperienced. We tried, but we really didn't know what 
to do. Without any lubricant,... well it doesn't go in that far. 
But we didn't know that at the time."

"Oh!" the boy smirked in surprise at this new information, 
then looked up at me cheekily, "So.... have you done it again since, 
after you found out how to do it properly?"

I laughed as I shook my head, "Now you ARE getting personal, 
Dylan. You didn't like your friend Gary telling other boys about 
you, well this isn't any different."

"I s'pose but..." he trailed off, now intensely curious and 
very aware that his throbbing cock was painfully hard and sticking 
straight up into the blue nylon of his swimming shorts. "Yeah, I 
guess,.... but I wouldn't tell anyway." He grinned at me cheekily, 
"So what do you think out when you jerk off... masturbate, anyway."

"I already told you. I dream about making love to you."

"Sure, but what. What do we do?" he asked persistently.

"You really want to know huh? Exactly?" I teased. Dylan 
nodded. "Okay, I usually begin by kissing you."

"On the lips?" the boy interrupted.

"Huh huh. Then I start down, kissing your neck and shoulders 
as I start taking off your shirt. I kiss all the way to your belly 
button and after I've worked over your tummy for a bit, I take off 
your shorts and underpants, and start kissing junior." 

I glanced at Dylan, he had reddened slightly but he was both 
fascinated and eager for me to continue. I could see the pulse in 
his throat, his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply, trying 
to control the excitement that now raged throughout him. "Yeah? You 
kiss me on my dick?" he said, his voice breaking slightly and 
unusually husky, a clear sign of the boy's arousal. "Then what?" 
he added in a whisper.

"Well then I start licking and sucking on junior," I answered.

"What,... what do I do to you?" 

I grinned, "Mostly you just lie back and enjoy it. When he's 
really hard I start to suck on your balls while I get your rear-
end ready." Dylan had turned a bright shade of pink again and he 
was looking down in vivid embarrassment. "You want me to stop?" He 
shook his head so I went on. "So after a while, when my finger can 
go inside your rear-end pretty easily, I turn you over onto your 
front and put it inside you so we can make love."

Dylan swallowed, "Do I like it?" I nodded and he swallowed 
again. "You know,... well it hasn't got to be like that,... be a 
dream, like that," he added quietly, his voice trembling with 
barely concealed excitement.

"Hi Dylan," my son called as he came over to us, still dripping 
water, his swimming lesson now finished.

Dylan jerked in surprise, swinging his head around in a sudden 
reflex, "Oh hi. You were swimming great. We were watching you," he 
smiled shyly, feeling his excitement , and probably his erection, 
deflate in an instant.

I smiled, adding, "Hi tiger, how did it go? Dylan was 
absolutely right when said he thinks you're doing great."

"Okay, my back floating's getting better, Steve said so too," 
he said.

"I guess I better go practice some myself," Dylan said. "Heh, 
what we talked about, you gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay," 
he asked nervously.

I grinned at the boy, "Who am I going to tell? Of course I 
promise." I added seriously, "So Dylan, do you want to come to the 
farm with us tomorrow." I asked.

"Huh?" Dylan looked at me questioningly.

"Do you want to come out with us tomorrow and go horse-back 
riding. That is, assuming that it isn't raining." I said

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. I've never been but I guess I'd 
like it. I wouldn't know what to do, I'll probably just get in the 
way," he answered uncertainly.

"Well, there's probably a lot of things you don't know how to 
do, but I'm sure you're a fast learner." I grinned at the boy 
playfully, wondering whether he caught my message. "We'll pick you 
up at your place, probably around 9.00 or 10.00. I'll call your mom 
tonight to make sure it's okay if you want me to. All you've got 
to bring is an old pair of jeans."

The boy was clearly excited, his sexual arousal now replaced 
by a different kind of excitement, "Yeah, that'd be great. Heh I'll 
see you tomorrow morning then, okay," he said happily.

"And by the way, don't worry about it." I called after him as 
he came quickly to his feet and started toward the diving board. 
He turned, grinned and waved, then with an elegant leap, sliced 
into the water with a perfectly executed dive that left little more 
than a ripple on the surface.
 

Chapter 5. A Day at the Farm

The next morning we were up, showered, and breakfasted by 
8.15. I had been certain that my wife would not be able to come out 
to the farm when I extended the invitation to Dylan. Increasingly, 
her work was taking her out of the city and this weekend was not 
going to be an exception. She still had not returned from her trip 
to New York and when she'd called in the evening I had told 
her about inviting the boy out to the farm. She didn't mind, after 
all he would probably be company for me when Kelly went off to play 
with his friend who lived on the farm next to ours.

Unsure of what twelve-year-old boys liked to eat for lunch, I 
threw a a six-pack of coke, a couple of light beers, bread, cheese, 
a tomato, and half a dozen other goodies into a box. It was late 
summer and after the rain, the weather had turned cooler. Still, the 
morning was not cold enough for a jacket, and it would certainly 
warm up during the day, so I had dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved 
checked shirt, just like Dylan. I thought about driving the 
Corvette, knowing the excitement that it would give Dylan if I 
blasted it on the freeway, but I decided that he'd probably have 
more fun with the four-wheel-drive on some of the rough trails 
through the woods. Exactly at 8.30, I pulled up in the driveway of 
the boy's house. Dylan had been waiting at the front door and he 
came flying out, his lithe body jumping down the four or five steps 
at the porch, then running up to the car. He was obviously very 
excited. The boy was dressed exactly as I had expected, with faded 
blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway 
up his brown slender arms. When I'd called on Friday evening, Diane 
had been glad that I'd invited her son out to the farm and she 
followed him down to the car arriving just as Dylan climbed into 
the front seat next to me. 

"You behave yourself, honey," she said as she smiled at me.

The boy shrugged and lifted his eyes up in playful desperate 
plea. Even as he smiled at me, his grin revealed what I thought was 
barely controlled lust. After our long conversation the previous 
day I was pretty sure what was on the boy's mind,... the same thing 
that was on mine. "Yeah, mom, sure thing," he replied.

"Thanks for taking him with you," his mother said to me. "You 
will be careful if you go riding won't you. Dylan hasn't been on a 
horse before."

I laughed, "Don't worry, if we go riding he'll use probably 
use Kelly's pony or my wife's horse. There's never been a slower 
horse."

"Okay. I can expect to see him after dinner, huh?" she asked. 

I nodded, almost impatient to be off, "Around nine probably. 
We won't leave until sunset and we'll probably get dinner on the 
way back."

Dylan was similarly eager to leave, "Bye mom, see you 
tonight," he called out.

"Bye honey,.... and be careful. Okay?"

Dylan nodded as I engaged reverse and backed up the drive onto 
the street. As we pulled away he sighed in feigned desperation and 
I laughed, "Mothers! They're all like that, aren't they Kelly?."

My son nodded and the older boy grinned as he fastened his 
seat belt and settled back in the seat, his legs stretched out 
before him. His jeans were old and well worn, maybe a year old, and 
the denim had softened. They were a close fit to his slender body 
but not too tight. His genitals formed a small but very obvious 
bulge between his legs and the way he sat there with his legs apart 
made it quite clear what he wanted to display. This car was no 
Corvette but it was still going to be a fun trip.

We laughed, talked, and listened to Beach Boys' classics the 
whole way to the farm, the one-hour trip seeming to take much less 
time than it ever had before. When we pulled into the road that led 
to the farm Kelly decided that he wanted to stop of at his friend's 
house. I was more than agreeable to that suggestion. Luckily, they 
were home and he went off to play with his friend, promising to 
call later on in the afternoon. I smiled at the boy next to me as 
I reversed out of the drive and back down to the road. We were alone 
now, just the two of us and the knowledge that we had shared the 
previous day.

I had Dylan get out, open, and then close the gate to our 
property. He jumped back in the car, grinning, "Are we really gonna 
ride?" he asked, his enthusiasm barely contained. 

I grinned back at him, "What ever you want. I thought we'd 
take a ride around the farm, maybe go for a swim in the creek."

"Yeah! Oh! Damn, I didn't bring my costume," he said angrily.

"So? You can go skinny-dipping," I laughed, then added as I 
took the biggest risk of my life, and deliberately looked down at 
the small but obvious bulge in the soft denim between his slender 
legs, "I'm sure you've got nothing to be ashamed of down there."

Dylan blushed, he was easily embarrassed by my overt 
assessment of his emerging sexuality despite our long conversation 
the day before. He was silent, not angry or sulky but pensive, as 
we drove the rest of the way to the farm. He needed time to come 
to grips with the strange feelings and the confusion of his 
emerging desires. His thoughts were complicated by the knowledge 
that what interested him, what excited him more than he could 
stand, was something that people made crude jokes about. He looked 
up as I stopped the car in front of the house and smiled shyly. 
"What's the problem?" I asked gently.

Dylan shrugged, "Nothing, well I was just thinking,... you 
know about what we talked about yesterday afternoon. About,... what 
we said,... and well,... well I,... I just want you to know that I 
like you,... a lot,... really I do."

I reached out letting my fingers brush the boy's soft cheek, 
wondering what it would be like to kiss that perfect mouth, to taste 
his sweet breath as it mingled with mine. I felt as though I was 
rushing headlong into something I could no longer control, and I 
swallowed, trying to get my racing thoughts back under control. 
"I,... I like you too Dylan, I like you a great deal." I wanted to 
tell him that I loved him, that he was all that I thought about, 
that I dreamed of him every night, but the words escaped me and I 
sat there looking into his pale blue eyes as they searched mine. 
he was just twelve-years-old, an innocent child and my thoughts 
were disgusting in their depravity. I opened the door and got out 
of the car, breathing in the fresh morning air, grateful for the 
escape from the confinement of the car, of my own struggle.

Dylan got out of the passenger-side and looked around him, 
"It's beautiful here", he said quietly.

I looked over at the beautiful young boy, the sun glistening 
in his golden-blond hair, his tanned skin radiating the vitality 
of youth. It was a wonderful picture, a memory to keep for all time. 
The farm had always been a beautiful place but it was nothing in 
comparison to now, graced by Dylan's presence. I opened the rear 
door and lifted out the box of food and drink and walked over to 
the house. Dylan hesitated for a minute looking around and taking 
in the view down the valley, then he turned and ran after me. "This 
is awesome. I had no idea,... wait till I tell mom. So where are 
the horses?" he asked excitedly as we went inside.

I laughed, as we went into the kitchen "Wait about a minute. 
You'll see." I put a few things in the refrigerator and then went 
to the back door. Dylan followed me and we went outside. From the 
back porch he saw the barn and the three horses grazing in the 
field.

His eyes opened wide and he turned to me with happiness 
bursting from his face. "Wow, this is awesome, truly awesome."

"Don't you know any other words besides awesome? Come on 
Dylan, let's go catch us some horses," I laughed, stepping off the 
porch and leading the way over to the fence. The horses needed no 
catching, as soon as they saw us they cantered over to greet us. I 
watched as Dylan stretched out his hand tentatively to stroke my 
horse's nose, "What's her name?"

I grinned, "Well first she is a he, if you care to look 
underneath you can see the difference. Well almost, he's missing 
some vital equipment, he's a gelding you see. His name is 
Pandemonium. Over there is Dancer, and the little one is Zombie, 
that's Kelly's."

"What's a gelding?" Dylan asked, "I mean I've heard the word 
and all but what is it? Is it a breed or something?"

I smiled at the boy, "He's a Palomino. A gelding is a male 
horse that can't make babies,... because his balls are cut off."

"His balls? Yuk! that's gross man. But why?" the boy 
continued, his curiosity unabated.

I smiled at the boy's discomfort, wondering whether my answer 
had made his own testicles tighten up instinctively, protectively. 
"A stallion can be pretty difficult to control. When he'd gelded, 
usually it's done when he's quite young, it quietens him down a 
lot."

"Oh! Which one do I get to ride?" he asked now bubbling with 
excitement.

"You pick, either Dancer or Zombie. Personally I'd pick Dancer 
if I was you. It's harder to get on her and it's a longer distance 
to fall off, but she can move a bit quicker than Zombie."

"Okay! Hi Dancer, guess I'm gonna ride you huh?" he said, 
transferring his affection to the mare.

I laughed, then climbed onto the fence, hitched one leg over 
the top rail and dropped to the ground on the other side. Dylan 
followed in one easy movement, almost vaulting over the fence. The 
horses followed up into the barn. They had already been fed that 
morning and I opened the gate and brought out two saddles, blankets 
and bridles. Dylan had no idea of what to do, but he watched 
intently as I saddled Pandemonium first, then Dancer. I had to 
shorten the stirrups by a few inches and then I helped him up into 
the saddle. It was a stretch but once I'd got the boy started on 
his way up he swung into the saddle. He grinned down at me proudly, 
his eyes flashing, as he clasped the reins uncertainly.

"Hi down there," he giggled.

"Hi up there. How does if feel?" I asked.

"Awesome. When she moves it's wild. Sure is a long way to fall 
off but."

I laughed, "Don't worry, you won't fall off. Press your knees 
inward, you can hold on to the hair, or the saddle."

"How do I make her go forward?" he asked as I climbed onto the 
other horse.

"That's easy, all you do is nudge her with your heels, very 
gently, kind of a squeeze really, you don't have to kick at a horse. 
Then pull on either side of the reins, to go either way, or all at 
once to stop. But do it gently, remember there's a steel bit in her 
mouth."

Dylan was a fast learner, within five minutes he was walking 
the horse around, guiding it carefully and stopping when I told him 
to. Cantering was a bit more fun and he yelled with joy as Dancer 
broke out from a trot into a faster pace. Within a few seconds he'd 
reached the far fence and he turned the horse into a graceful curve 
and came cantering back. All he could say was "Wow! That was just 
awesome. Truly awesome."

"Come on, Dylan, I think you're ready for the big time", I 
said, leading the way to the gate. I leaned over, opened the gate 
and shepherded the boy and his horse outside, before I closed it.

Together we started down towards the road, cutting off before 
we reached the main road and following the track up into the woods. 
Already the sun was high in the sky and it was beginning to get 
hot. We rode back up into the woods, following the fence line until 
it disappeared into the undergrowth, then continuing on the trail. 
After about half an hour we reached the top of the hill and we 
paused to let the horses rest. Dylan was already becoming more 
comfortable in the saddle, no longer afraid that he would fall off, 
he rested his left hand just on the saddle, holding the reins with 
his right. Sitting astride the horse in the late-morning sun, the 
sun glistening on his ruffled golden-blond hair, the boy was dream, 
a perfect summer's dream. He breathed deeply as he looked around. 
"This is fun but it sure is getting hot, isn't it? Am I doing okay?" 
he asked after a long silence.

I nodded, guiding my horse over to his so that we were side 
by side. "Huh huh. You're doing great. You can take your shirt off 
if you want cowboy."

Dylan twisted in the saddle as he unfastened the buttons of 
his shirt, then in one deft movement lifted it up and pulled his 
arms through. He tied the shirt arms around the saddle horn then 
looked over to me. I was sitting still and silent, engrossed in my 
inspection of the boy's fabulous torso, oblivious to the world 
around me. The boy was lean, there was practically no fat on him, 
not even the puppy fat that boy's his age are supposed to accumulate 
ready for the growth demands of puberty, the silky brown skin at 
his belly making fine ripples at his belt. Suddenly I realized the 
boy's awareness of my intense scrutiny, "You're beautiful Dylan," 
I said awkwardly, removing my own shirt and tying it to the saddle 
the same way.

Dylan looked at me, folding his bottom lip inward 
thoughtfully. "Boys are handsome or good looking, they aren't 
beautiful," he corrected playfully, but visibly enjoying the 
compliment.

I smiled at the boy, "Well you are," I said unable to control 
the incredible feeling of desire for him, my wanton hunger for the 
boy next to me overpowering any restraint that I had.

He smirked at me, almost knowingly, "Yeah?" He looked down at 
the ground for a moment watching his horse eating grass. When he 
looked up again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "What we 
talked about yesterday,... you know,... is it terribly wrong to 
want to do those things?"

I breathed out and paused, trying to find the right words, "I 
don't thing it's wrong. Dylan, when people are very fond of each 
other,... well it's normal to have strong feelings for each other. 
Those feelings are natural, they make us want to do things, 
together. The things we talked about are, well they aren't bad or 
wrong for us...."

Dylan sighed and looked away out over the valley. I knew the 
boy was confused, but so was I.  "Does it mean I'm,... we're gay?" 
he asked.

"Being gay is nothing to be ashamed off. If that's what we 
both want? If we're both very fond of each other." I answered 
gently, again aware that we were rushing at full speed into what 
could only be both disastrous and painful for the boy. But I was 
unable to resist.

"I,... I'm not sure. I,... I don't want to be gay, but," the 
boy said hesitantly. "I want you to be my friend the way I pretend 
when I jerk off but, being gay,... all the guys at school make jokes 
about them."

I nodded at the boy, smiling reassuringly, "They don't have 
to find out. If no one knows but us.... Come on let's ride down to 
the creek." I said, changing the subject abruptly and I pulled on 
the reins and lifted the horse's head upward.

I knew the boy appreciated the interruption. He had to sort 
his confusion of feelings and desires out for himself, and it would 
take time. 

We rode down the hill, cantering the horses on the open 
sections, then following the track back around past the farmhouse 
towards the creek. We followed the creek up past the fields, 
ducking low over our horses as we went though the woods. There was 
no trail here, just the noise of our horses and the sounds of birds 
and animals in the trees and the gurgle and splash of the creek. 
Finally we reached a small clearing and we dismounted. I showed 
Dylan how to remove a saddle and then stood back watching as he 
tried to do the same with Dancer. We left the horses in the clearing 
and scrambled down the hill towards the creek. A deep pool had been 
formed by some large rocks, the water was dark and inviting. There 
in the shade of the trees we stopped, looking out at the pool. "It's 
really beautiful here," Dylan said at last.

"Yes it is," I agreed, looking at the half naked boy before 
me, silently admiring his firmly muscled back, his lean strong 
shoulders and narrow waist, the knobby spine that disappeared under 
the denim of his jeans, revealing the boy's rounded small buttocks 
and the deep cleft between his cheeks. He turned and grinned, "We 
really gonna swim naked?" he asked.

"Nobody can see us, Dylan", I replied.

"Yeah. I know. I haven't done this before."

"So there's a first time for everything. You can wear your 
underpants if you want," I teased, then added, "but I'm not." 

I began to unfasten my belt, aware that Dylan watched 
intently. I kicked of my shoes, pushed my jeans and briefs down my 
legs, then tugged them over my feet. I knew that Dylan's attention 
had been focused on my genitals the whole time, unable to drag his 
eyes away, he'd started in fascination and quickly building 
arousal. Naked, I straightened up again, meeting Dylan's eyes 
shamelessly. He reddened slightly, licking his bottom lip as he 
swallowed nervously, unable to speak.

"Well?" I said looking at the boy curiously.

"He's huge," the boy said in awe as he glanced down at my 
stiffening cock.

I laughed, "It's not THAT big. Well I'm going for a swim," I 
announced.

Dylan hesitated, almost trembling with excitement as his eyes 
dropped downward again, an unfamiliar and frightening surge making 
his heart pound and his own small penis began to respond 
immediately and instinctively. "You gotta promise..." the boy 
whispered at last. I raised my eyebrows as I smiled at the boy. 
"You gotta promise never to tell anyone, okay."

I grinned, "Like I said before, I'm sure you've got nothing 
to ashamed of down there, Dylan."

He blushed, "It's not that, I know mine's tiny compared to 
yours. But it's not that...." he said, too embarrassed to finish.

I nodded, "Yours ought to be smaller, you've only just turned 
twelve after all. It'll get bigger as you get older." My cock had 
reached the point of full erection now, swollen and dark as it 
pulsed with unabashed and unrestrained hunger for the young boy 
standing before me. 

Dylan nodded then brushed his hair back from his forehead 
barely aware of the effect he was having on me, trying to control 
his own body's response to its emerging desires, still fighting the 
admission of his own sexuality. He sighed, slowly, finally coming 
to the truth that now confronted him. "You gotta promise not to get 
angry? I don't want you to get angry, okay... I wanly do that stuff 
we talked about okay yesterday. I think you do too, but I don't 
want anyone else to know, okay. You do, don't you?"

I smiled reassuringly, "More than anything else in the world," 
I answered honestly. "It's all I've thought about from the first 
time I saw in the ice-cream store." The boy looked at me 
uncertainly, as I added, "You're a very beautiful young boy. Most 
people would think that I was a terrible person to want to love 
you. It's even against the law, until you're older, much older."

"But you're not terrible!" the boy exclaimed. "I want you too, 
I want to love you."

I smiled, "Nobody can ever know Dylan, not your mom, not your 
best friend, no one. They might not understand."

The boy nodded, then slowly, shyly, his hands moved to his 
waist, his small slender fingers deftly unfastening his belt 
buckle, then his metal button, then his zipper. The V of his fly 
opened, revealing the white of his jockeys underneath. Then he 
kicked off his shoes, turned away from me in modesty and bent 
forward. With one foot off the ground and then the other, he 
balanced, removing his socks, jeans and underpants and leaving them 
in an untidy heap near mine. With the boy bent over I could see 
only his bare slender brown legs, the paleness of his thighs, 
untouched by the sun, the perfect round globes of his small cheeks, 
the ribs defined on his well-tanned chest. He straightened up and 
turned around, shedding his inhibitions in that one simple motion. 
His now-naked body was dappled in the sunshine as it trickled 
through the trees but a single unbroken ray fell across his 
genitals. Like me, the boy was fully erect though his penis 
couldn't have been much more than three and half inches long. It 
was thick at the base and it swelled slightly before it tapered to 
a tiny reddish-pink cherry-shaped tip. Like me, Dylan was 
circumcised, his tiny blue veins seemed to bulge under the very 
delicate flesh. Beneath his throbbing hard cock, his testicles 
seemed insignificant, small rounded swellings in the pink folded 
pouch of his scrotum. Obviously the onset of puberty was still some 
time away. The boy's pubis was perfectly smooth, without even the 
slightest trace of hair. It was rounded and prominent, accentuated 
by the narrowness of his hips and the slenderness of his body, it 
seemed to make his genitals more exposed.

The boy smirked as he looked up into my staring eyes, "Well?" 
he demanded.

"You're,... you're beautiful Dylan," I acknowledged. "You 
have a wonderful body."

"Yeah?", he grinned, "You don't think I'm too skinny. My 
dick's pretty small but isn't it? I told you it was tiny didn't I."

I laughed, "You're built just right. And no, your dick is just 
perfect. Come on let's go for a swim, first. But no diving, okay."

Dylan nodded, suddenly relieved, it was as if the pressure 
that had been building up inside him was released, the tension, the 
frightening surge, the pounding of his heart, the incredible, 
almost painful hardness in his penis began to fade. Together, side 
by side we walked down into the cool refreshing water. We began to 
swim, slowly relaxing, our pale naked bodies barely visible in the 
dark water, around and around, splashing and giggling like two 
uninhibited kids, slowly becoming playful grabs and hugs devoid of 
the overpowering desires we'd experienced earlier but accustoming 
our bodies to the touch of the other.

Finally we swam up to the large rocks that had blocked the 
flow of water in the creek. There was a narrow crevice between the 
rocks, it was little more than a foot wide, and we scrambled out 
of the water, almost oblivious to our nakedness. Like me, Dylan's 
erection had long since vanished, withdrawing to a small appendage 
that hung downward, his balls tightening to form a tiny wrinkled 
knot of flesh that was barely visible between his legs. Dylan 
grinned cheekily, "Now my dick is really small," he observed. 

I smiled back at him, "Huh huh, but it won't be for long, I 
bet." I lead the way up into the crevice between the rocks, picking 
my way cautiously because it was barely wide enough. Dylan slide 
though easily, laughing as he called out, "Don't get stuck, okay. 
I don't know how I'd get you out."

The crevice ran for about fifteen feet, sloping upward at 
about 45 degrees before it ended. We emerged into an open area that 
was bathed in sun. It was very quiet and private, ideal for what I 
had in mind, above and behind us were a rock wall and pine trees, 
in front and to the sides the huge boulders, the only access through 
the slot and across the pool. The ground was covered with a thick 
layer of pine needles. I turned to Dylan as he emerged from the 
crevice behind me. For an instant he looked around, then his eyes 
met mine and he breathed out slowly, "Heh, this is a nice place," 
he observed as he nodded. It was almost as if I could read his mind, 
the thoughts that were initiated deep in his sub-conscious, halted 
momentarily by his innocence and inhibition, then unchallenged grew 
into the same hunger that I felt. "Yeah, this is really nice," he 
added in a voice that was suddenly husky with excitement.

We stood not much more than a foot apart and I reached out and 
for the second time that day stroked the unbelievable softness of 
his cheek. This time my fingers lingered, the tips barely caressing 
the lobe of his ears, then tracing downward back over his cheek. 
The boy breathed deeply as my fingers touched his lips, swallowing 
with nervous anticipation, his pale blue eyes shining. His body 
quivered at my touch, full of life and excitement, eager and at 
last unable to resist that desire that finally conquered the 
frantic pleadings of his mind. His pulse rate rocketed as his heart 
began to pound. His lips parted slightly as his breathing grew 
stronger. "Yeah," the boy huskily whispered again as he nodded his 
willingness to me. I watched his slender brown chest begin to rise 
and fall with the rapid increase in his breathing, he licked his 
bottom lip, the wet tip of his tongue brushing my fingers, he 
trembled like a frightened faun, then suddenly aware of the growing 
heat and hardness between his legs, risked a glimpse downward. 
Already his cock had shrugged off its cold-induced stupor, 
thickening, hardening, lengthening even as he looked at it. Then 
he noticed my cock, dominating his own small sex organ by its very 
size and power, its stiffening provoked by him, by his beautiful 
body. "Our dicks are getting stiff", he observed huskily without 
looking up.

"Huh huh," I said quietly, glancing downward. I watched as the 
boy's penis became engorged, swelling and lifting upwards until it 
was nearly parallel to his belly, pointing up into the air towards 
his navel. Instinctively testing his readiness, the boy flexed the 
muscles deep inside his body, tightening his sphincter and making 
his cock jerk. My own cock, now fully hard protruded at right angles 
to my body. It was more than seven inches long, twice the length 
of Dylan's but many times larger. The boy looked at it in silent 
fascination, awed by its size compared to his. My fingers were 
still caressing the boy's face and I lifted his chin, bringing his 
eyes up to meet mine. "Now what?" the boy asked uncertainly.

My hand slipped around his neck, my fingers pushing into the 
silky soft curls at the nape, pulling him gently but irresistibly 
towards me. I remembered reading somewhere that young boys didn't 
like kissing but I wanted only to taste his perfect mouth, to savor 
the boy's delicate lips. I wanted him to like it, to kiss me back... 
I went slowly, his uplifted face only inches away, following his 
questioning, unblinking innocent eyes with mine, then cautiously, 
almost not to frighten him I leaned forward, brushing my lips 
against the soft cool skin of his forehead. "Whatever you want," I 
whispered. Dylan nodded as I kissed his forehead again. The twelve-
year-old boy shivered with cold and uncontrollable excitement, 
uncertain of what he wanted. He trembled as he tilted his head back 
slightly, pursing his lips as he breathed in. My lips brushed 
gently against his for an instant before I pulled back. He 
swallowed, still uncertain but willing to trust me, willing to go 
further, sensing the memory of that first hesitant kiss. The boy 
nodded again and my fingers tightened on the back of his neck, 
lifting, guiding his mouth back to mine. Again the boy hesitated, 
his lips dry and unyielding but he didn't pull away. After a brief 
touch I pulled back. He opened his mouth to say something but I 
gently hushed him, then leaned forward again. This time was 
different and the boy yielded, his lips softening against mine, his 
mouth opening slightly as he returned the kiss. This time I didn't 
pull back, letting the boy discover the intimacy of a kiss. When 
we finally parted the boy was breathless, "Yeah," he sighed in 
relief, then breathed deeply, his small hand coming to his mouth, 
the tips of his fingers touching the wetness on his lips, grinning 
slightly

"You like that?" I teased playfully.

"Huh huh."

I pulled Dylan back to me again, bringing our mouths into 
contact one more time, this time my tongue pressing forward, 
touching the boy's lips, then gently squeezing inside. I felt the 
boy quiver in surprise but he didn't pull back. His tongue pulled 
back, making room for mine, his teeth biting lightly on my tongue, 
keeping it inside his mouth. Still not used to prolonged kissing 
and the need to breath through his nose, in maybe twenty seconds 
Dylan pulled back gasping suddenly. "You,... you put your tongue 
in my mouth," he said in an accusatory tone.

"Huh huh. You mind?" The boy shook his head as he considered 
it and smiled. "You use your tongue too but you gotta breath through 
your nose," I added drawing the boy's mouth back to mine. This kiss 
was wet and hot and it went on and on for a full minute. After a 
few moments with my tongue inside Dylan's mouth, I felt the boy's 
tongue tentative probing, the firm wriggling tongue pressing into 
my lips, rubbing against my teeth as he explored, then reassured 
that I wouldn't bite it off, pushed forward. I sucked the boy's 
tongue inside, dropping my hands downward, clasping his naked cool 
body, sliding over the bumps of his spine, then filling with the 
round soft flesh of his cheeks, the tips of fingers pressing into 
the warm depth of his crack, lifting the boy upward slightly. 
Dylan's instincts were strong and the boy needed no encouragement 
as he responded, his slender arms locking around my waist in a bear-
hug, his mouth and tongue working quickly, exploring, testing, 
playing with mine. As we hugged and kissed, the thick, hard shaft 
of my cock pressed into the boy's belly, his own hot throbbing cock 
squeezing against my thigh. As our kiss finished, I began to kiss 
his forehead, his cheeks, his eyes, then back to his mouth, 
sometimes taking the lead, at other times relinquishing control to 
Dylan. The boy began to move his hips, humping against my leg, 
rubbing his cock to get some relief, pushing my cock hard into his 
flat brown belly, against his now dry warm skin. Both of us breathed 
hard and fast, the boy making little high-pitched whimpering sounds 
like a puppy while I groaned in ecstasy.

After near five minutes, during which I thought I might climax 
nearly any second, I eased the boy down onto the ground. I followed 
him down as he reached out for me shamelessly and I lay over him, 
taking my most of weight on my knees and elbows, but keeping enough 
weight on Dylan so that he was barely able to move. For what I 
wanted, for what would follow, the boy had to accept my authority, 
to accept his passive role. It wasn't that I wanted the boy to be 
inert or powerless, but I had to prevail in order to protect him. 
We continued to kiss, each time longer and more passionate than the 
last, then finally I pulled away, my hands stroking the smooth soft 
skin of his flanks as I began to kiss his slender neck and 
shoulders, licking and sucking on the delicate flesh again and 
again until I left small reddish blotches. Then I moved downward, 
my lips seeking his tiny dark nipples, sucking until they were 
hard, my hands caressing his arms, legs, thighs, belly, anywhere 
but his genitals. I reached his belly, my tongue leaving wet 
glistening trails on his satin brown skin, tickling his navel until 
my saliva was pooled in, smearing the wetness over him, nibbling 
and suckling as I worshipped his slender brown body. All the while 
Dylan writhed and twisted in shameless and unbridled pleasure, 
giggling when I tickled, sighing as I moved ever closer to his 
genitals, always making a quiet whining murmur that conveyed his 
delight.

In my long passage downward, Dylan's cock seemed to have 
become even harder, the tiny bluish veins bulging, the little tip 
flushed and swollen. Unlike my cock which was oozing pre-cum, 
Dylan's cock was dry but very hungry for my attention. I gave it a 
friendly, playful lick, starting at the rounded wrinkled ball-sac 
and going all the way to the tip. Dylan gasped, "Oh yeah," flexing 
his cock in my face to show his eagerness. My hands moved to the 
boy's knees, gently parting his legs, then sliding up the inside 
until my fingers brushed into the furrow between his legs that led 
back into his crack, or up to his scrotum and penis. For a moment 
I considered which way to go, either direction was temptation. 
Dylan made the choice for me, "Suck my dick!" he pleaded huskily.

"Aren't you 'sposed to say please?" I teased, now convinced 
that I should turn him onto his belly and continued on the other 
side of the boy.

The boy giggled, placing both of his hands on my head and 
pushing me downward, guiding my head to his groin, positioning my 
mouth at his aching hard cock. I opened my mouth and welcomed the 
boy inside, easily taking the short hard shaft as I heard him sigh 
with instant gratification. I didn't stop there and I went on down, 
opening my mouth wide and sucking in both of his immature balls as 
well. Dylan's back arched, trying to fuck my face as he began to 
thrust, forcing his thighs into my face as his buttocks lifted 
right off the ground. I slide my hand underneath his cheeks then 
pushed him downward to restrict his wild thrusting. I wasn't 
worried about the boy climaxing, even if he did it would be dry and 
he'd be still as horny as he was now I curled my forefinger so that 
I could rub into his crack, feeling for the little puckered 
opening. I don't think he'd ever done that with anyone else. I knew 
that he'd masturbated with Gary and I suspected that he'd sucked 
Gary's cock but I also knew that his sex life had come to an abrupt 
halt when he'd wanted Gary's penis inside his butt.

"Oh yeah!" he sighed in lust, squeezing down hard onto my 
finger so that the tip pushed into him up to the first joint.

Gently I probed into the boy's body, feeling the heat and 
tightness of his virgin anus resist me. I rubbed him gently, moving 
my finger around and around. The boy trembled, moving his hips on 
my finger, trying to get the finger deeper into him. "You like that, 
Dylan?" I teased, finally pulling my mouth away from his cock and 
balls, leaving them coated and glistening with my saliva. He 
nodded. "What do you want me to do first. Front or back?"

The boy smirked. "Put it in further, okay", he begged, "as far 
as you can."

"Say please."

The boy giggled, "Please".

"Okay," I laughed, retracting my finger outward and pulling 
my hand out from under him. The look of disappointment on the boy's 
face from the interruption to his pleasure was instant and 
gratifying. "Turn over onto your tummy and spread those cheeks, 
Dylan," I commanded. The boy needed no further instruction and as 
I moved away he twisted over lying face down on the pine needles, 
legs wide apart, each hand clasping one of cheeks and parting his 
buttocks, exposing the full depth of his crack. For the first time 
I saw the boy's anus, the darkened opening, puckered almost like 
tiny lips. As I looked I wondered, thinking that my cock would never 
fit inside him It would stretch of course, but from the look of it, 
never that big, never in a million years, or least another four 
years. Then I did something that I'd only ever dreamed about. I 
leaned forward, pushed my tongue out and licked the full length of 
boy's crack. He shuddered as he felt the warm wetness of my tongue. 
"That feels awesome. But,... but isn't it dirty back there?" he 
asked awkwardly.

I lifted my head up. "You've just been swimming Dylan. It's 
perfectly clean. Besides, nothing we can do together is dirty. Not 
if we both want to do it," I answered. I went back and tongued him 
again, this time adding saliva and wetting the boy's crack 
thoroughly before I began to probe his opening. He sighed, his legs 
moving in trembling shakes as the tip of my tongue penetrated just 
inside him. He seemed to loosen almost immediately, there was 
little resistance to my tongue so I went still further, deeper and 
deeper until my nose was squeezing into his crack. There was a 
faintly musky odor, a smell that I liked very much indeed. I moved 
my other hand between his outstretched legs, reaching upward until 
my fingers brushed against his ball-sac, then I began to rub and 
squeeze them, working the two tiny nuts together or individually, 
not hard enough to give the boy any real pain but enough to let him 
experience for the first time, the intense delight that borders on 
pain. He responded shamelessly, trying to force his buttocks upward 
to get more of my tongue inside him, grinding his genitals into my 
hand, unable to achieve the release of climax but perfectly capable 
of enjoying the feelings that preceded it. I deliberately avoided 
contact with his penis. I knew it was rock hard and throbbing and 
the boy was frantically trying to rub in against my hand but I 
wanted to save that pleasure for last.

After nearly ten minutes the musky aroma had become stronger 
and I lifted my head away to look down. The boy's anus was dilated 
now, the puckered opening replaced by a wider opening that revealed 
the dark crimson of his bowel. I licked my fingers, then gently 
placed my forefinger at the entry into his body. He whimpered in 
anticipated, then moaned as he felt my finger press down, sliding 
easily inside. There was a momentary spasm, a brief tightening 
pressure on my finger as his sphincter tightened, then I was 
through. Exactly where a boy's prostate was located I had no idea, 
but I knew that it would be small and not that far inside. As soon 
as I reached just past the second joint I curled my finger and 
pressed down towards the boy's cock. I was right on target. The boy 
quivered and let out a little yelp, not of pain but of that 
incredible boundless joy that starts deep inside. "Ohhhh, yeahhhh", 
he gasped. I began to rub, gently at first, with careful strokes 
around and around, teasing, testing, and probing the small lump. 
Slowly the boy's own rectal mucus seeped down to provide much 
needed lubrication, making my forefinger slide easier and greatly 
increasing Dylan's pleasure. I quickly found that alternately 
squeezing, then thrusting my finger back and forth seemed to 
achieve the greatest response. I did really fast for almost a 
minute and the boy started to gasp, his body shaking and writhing 
uncontrollably on the ground. A minute more and he was shuddering, 
grunting with each hard stroke of my finger as I rammed it into his 
aching prostate. The tension in his anal band had all but 
disappeared and I pushed in a second finger. With two fingers about 
halfway inside the boy I began to wonder if maybe my cock might 
fit. Then the boy's body began to jerk of its own volition, his 
anus squeezing with brief locking spasms on my finger again and 
again, his contractions coming infrequently but with frightening 
intensity.

"You want me to stop?" I asked nervously.

"No. No, do it,...but faster", he hissed almost inaudibly, his 
voice quavering.

My hand was getting tired but I tried to comply, tempted to 
replace my fingers with my cock,but knowing that I'd cause nothing 
but pain if I did it without lubrication. Then almost as soon as I 
had decided to go for it the boy let out a yelp, a triumphant shriek 
and he lunged back lifting his hips off the ground and driving my 
fingers hard into his body. He squealed again then collapsed 
shaking uncontrollably, his anus suddenly very loose on my fingers. 
Dylan had orgasmed, his very first one, and I gently pulled my 
fingers out, and settled down next to him and turning the boy onto 
his side so that we were lying face to face. He was gasping for 
air, sobbing between breaths, his face wet with tears, his lean 
body coated with a sheen of perspiration.I looked down at the boy's 
cock, the hardness had faded, replaced by more overwhelming 
feelings, but the tip seemed to be wet. I squeezed the small half-
erect shaft between my mucus-coated fingers, extracting a tiny 
crystal-clear bead. With the tip of finger I lifted if off, 
bringing my hand up to my mouth and licking it off. There was no 
taste to it, but the pungent musky smell from the inside of the 
boy's body was 'awesome'. I sniffed at my fingers, it was a smell 
not unlike sardines, without the oiliness. Dylan slowly regained 
his breathing but he was exhausted. He looked at me curiously, his 
expression clearly indicating the nature of his question. I 
grinned, "You had an orgasm, young man. This stuff is from inside 
you. I guess you could call it butt juice."

"Was,...Was I,...okay?", he asked breathlessly.

"You were wonderful?" I said gently as I caressed his 
forehead, brushing his dishevelled hair back. "You were 
incredible."

The boy was still shaking, frightened by the very intensity, 
the unexpectedness of what had happened. "It felt as if,... as if 
something kind of burst inside me."

I nodded and stroked his cheek with my thumb, "It's okay. 
You'll feel better in a few minutes."

The boy swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts, "It was 
wild. It feels really strange inside, sort of funny in there.... 
Sure is kind of messy but, isn't it. I thought I was gonna poop on 
your fingers," he said as he looked at my hand.

I grinned and poked out my tongue and tentatively licked my 
fingers. I didn't mind the taste at all, especially when it had 
come from the beautiful naked boy lying beside me. I lifted his 
golden-blond head up, slid my arm around his shoulders protectively 
and repositioned his body so that he was cuddled into my side, his 
head resting on my shoulder.

It took Dylan about ten minutes to fully recover. He lay still 
at first, his breathing slowly becoming more relaxed. He was very 
quiet, his body drained of its young energy, basking in the 
afterglow of the orgasm that has overwhelmed him. For a long while 
there was a shy, almost innocent smile on his face, still flushed 
from his exertions.Then he lifted his right leg up over my thighs, 
pressing his knee against my groin gently. He looked up, his eyes 
reflecting his eagerness, his desire to go further. He licked his 
lips, flicking his tongue at me teasingly, then in a swift 
movement, rolled over me so that his knees were on either side and 
he straddled my hips. He sat above me triumphantly, grinning 
cheekily as his fingers tickled my stomach and chest, my rapidly 
hardening cock pressed in the boy's hot, moist crevice. He could 
feel it getting stiff, every few seconds he squeezed down on it, 
moving his hips backward and forward so that my cock was rubbed, 
making it even harder until finally the head of it was against the 
boy's balls or sticking out under his cock as he moved forward. 
Dylan's cock responded of its own accord, growing erect almost 
instantly to match the boy's excitement. Then we were both hard 
again and Dylan looked down proudly, realizing what he'd done to 
me, his eyes locked onto mine as he giggled teasingly, "You got 
another hard-on," he observed, "So what do I do now?" he asked.

I grinned back at the boy. "What do you want to do?" I replied.

He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest, "I don't 
know. Whatever? You can put it in my back side it you want? I 
thought you were gonna do that earlier. I wanted you to."

"I thought about it. But not here. You're gonna need a lot of 
lubrication back there before we try that. I don't think it would 
fit anyway, and I don't want to hurt you by trying," I said 
honestly.

Dylan pouted, "How do you know if you don't try? It might. I 
don't care if it hurts a bit. Anyway, your fingers felt awesome, I 
thought I was gonna die, or explode, or something. I want you to 
do with your dick inside me next time."

I laughed at the boy's expression of his lust. "Well you're 
going to need some lubricant or it's going to hurt like hell."

"Okay! So what do I do now? is it my turn to do you?" he asked, 
playfully reaching between his legs and squeezing the bulbous tip 
of my cock with his fingers. "He's wet on top. There's slippery 
stuff leaking out of the slit. It's clear but, and it's not milky 
or spurting out like cum does."

"It's called pre-cum, it kind of leaks out when a guy get's 
really excited," I answered, thinking of Dylan's first explorations 
with his friend, his natural inclinations provoking his curiosity. 
I could feel the threatening approach of orgasm, so close before, 
now encouraged by the boy's rhythmic motion. I reached out, 
stroking the boy's slender thighs with my finger tips, pushing 
upward to his hips, then moving him further down my legs so that 
he was no longer over my cock. "You keep doing that and it will be 
spurting real fast."

Dylan giggled, "I don't mind if it gets on me. It's just sperm, 
it's what you make babies with," he said expertly. "This stuff sure 
is slippery but," he added, squeezing the head of my cock through 
his fist and watching another bead of clear juice ooze out of the 
slit.

"You said you and your friend Gary sucked each other once." I 
said suggestively, wondering how far the boy's inhibitions 
extended.

"Huh huh. Gary did it in my mouth one time. It doesn't taste 
that bad, kinda thick and yucky, a bit salty I guess, but it was 
okay. You want me to do that to you?" he asked, his voice suddenly 
turning husky again, his body quivering with anticipation, the 
memory of what he'd done to Gary re-playing insistently in his 
mind.

"I want you to do what you want," I replied, gently rubbing 
the boy's nipples with my finger tips as he leaned forward over me. 
They stiffened to two tiny dark points as he sighed in enjoyment, 
eyes half closed in bliss.

"Okay," he whispered, sliding further down my legs, his 
buttocks resting on my knees. "But you gotta tell me when, okay, 
so I'll be ready," he added looking up at me as he smirked. I nodded 
and the boy took hold of my cock in his right hand, leaned forward, 
licking his lips and opening his mouth as he came closer. I felt 
his soft luscious tongue swirl over the head, felt the hot spongy 
wetness, then his lips pushing past the tip, his tongue still 
slurping on my cock as he took the head of it into his wide-open 
mouth. He looked up expectantly, his eyes meeting mine shamelessly, 
almost trying to smile around my cock-head. I nodded reassuringly, 
flexing my cock hungrily, wanting him to take more of it. he looked 
down and began to concentrate and I felt the boy's teeth nibbling 
in the groove around the head of my cock, his tongue inspecting, 
then trying to squeeze into the slit, his small soft hand squeezing 
my balls gently. It was almost impossible to believe that he'd 
learned to do this just after one time with a boy only one year 
older than himself. He pulled back after about a minute to get his 
breath. Dylan looked at me as my cock popped from his mouth, 
grinning cheekily, "That feel okay?" he teased.

"Awesome!" I said. "You're not gonna to stop now?"

Dylan smirked as he wiped his wet lips with the back of his 
hand, "No way man. I'm gonna suck you off. I want you to do it in 
my mouth, okay."

He went back down, this time past going where he'd stopped 
before, pushing down relentlessly as my cock surged into his mouth. 
At twelve-years-old he was far to young to deep-throat me, but he 
didn't stop until my cock reached the back of his mouth. He gagged, 
pulling away as he coughed, smiling as he saw me. "He's too big to 
go in all the way," he said as his coughing fit passed.

I laughed, "And you wanted me to put it in your butt huh? What 
you've gotta do is not go down as far, breath through your nose and 
use your hand to rub it."

"Oh!" he smirked, swallowing and taking another deep breath. 
He went down again, this time not as far. I could feel the boy's 
hot tongue, the soft squishiness of his mouth, the sharpness of his 
teeth as they grazed the sensitive skin of my cock. He breathed 
easier this time, sucking noisily on my cock, his saliva dribbling 
from between his stretched lips and running down my cock. His right 
hand grasped my cock near the base, his fingers wrapping around the 
shaft and pressing into the underside. He began to masturbate me, 
jerking his hand rapidly, expertly, lubricated by his saliva. After 
a minute or so he glanced up and I nodded, sighing as waves of boy-
generated delight washed over me. Like any young and inexperienced 
boy, Dylan didn't know that he either could or should prolong the 
pleasure. He worked intently, his entire body focused on his 
activity, mouth and hand totally synchronized, his blond head 
bobbing up and own as his small hand stroked my cock relentlessly. 

I felt the pleasure intensify, the warning sign of an imminent 
orgasm, wanting the boy to stop and let it pass, my back arching, 
leg muscles tightening, my cock flexing, straining, my balls 
tightening. "Ohhh", I moaned, "Ohhhh God, do it Dylan, do it 
faster." The boy responded with his boundless energy, his blond 
head jerking, his rhythm interrupted, "Yeahhhh, Ohhhhh Dylan," I 
gasped. I grabbed his head, my fingers locking into the golden-
blond hair behind his ears, forcing him down, thrusting my cock as 
deep as I dared, to the back of his mouth and into this throat. I 
felt my come rising up my shaft, the boy's hot juicy mouth sucking 
frantically, then I exploded hot and thick spurts into him, down 
into his throat. I felt Dylan beginning to choke, struggling to 
pull away, then I pulled back, still spurting into his mouth, over 
his tongue, my body quaking, my cock jerking and throbbing with 
each additional spurt. I emptied my balls into the boy, it was the 
longest orgasm I'd ever had, then finally with the dying spasms I 
lifted the boy's head up, the last of it oozing out. Dylan's mouth 
was half open, a look of shock and surprise on his face, then my 
sperm began to trickle out from the side of his mouth. He breathed 
heavily, gasping for air, his tongue covered with my come. He 
smeared his hand over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, then I 
pulled him forward, down so that he lay on top of me, and I kissed 
him, long and hard on the lips, my tongue surging into his mouth, 
tasting my come, embracing the boy's tongue, sharing the sweet 
saltiness inside him until we subsided.

As soon as he got his breath back Dylan began to play kissing 
games, sticking out his tongue and licking mine, or trying to put 
it inside my mouth as far as he could. I held the boy tightly, one 
hand caressing his slender back, the other fondly the baby-soft 
flesh of his butt-cheeks, gently prising them apart and letting my 
finger tips walk down into his crack, then lovingly stroke the 
boy's small anus. Already he had tightened up, though not puckered 
like before, the boy's opening was a lot smaller. After a few 
minutes Dylan lifted up and smirked cheekily, "Well, did you like 
that?" he asked cheekily. I nodded. "Boy you sure had a bunch but. 
I thought it was never gonna stop coming out. I had to keep 
swallowing."

I nodded. "You were incredible Dylan. I still don't believe 
what we just did. Did you like it as much as I did?"

The twelve-year-old boy grinned, "Yeah! Of course I liked it. 
Your stuff tastes a lot saltier than Gary's did but."

The boy settled down again and we hugged and kissed and 
fondled each other for what seemed an hour or more. We teased and 
tickled each other, our sex urges barely restrained. We were all 
but satisfied by just being so close together, occasionally we'd 
play with each other's cocks, sometimes even simulating frontal 
intercourse by rubbing our cocks together, but never to the point 
of orgasm. Even though Dylan was nearly fifteen inches shorter than 
me, it was remarkable how well our bodies fitted together. It was 
well past lunch time before we stopped. We weren't hungry, we could 
have gone on forever but the sun had moved around so that we were 
no longer shaded by the trees. The sun made us hot and sleepy, our 
bodies covered with a glistening sheen of perspiration. Dylan sat 
up and smiled, "I think I like the hugging and kissing stuff best."

"Why?" I asked, reaching out and caressing his bare brown 
shoulder, letting my fingers slip down his arm.

"I don't know. I s'pose 'cause I feel really close to you. I 
like everything else too, but when you hold me really tight and we 
kiss, I just kind of feel really warm all over. I like that feeling 
more than anything else." He shrugged, "You think I'm weird?"

"No, you're not weird. I like it too. It makes me feel very 
close to you."

"I feel like that to, like I never want us to be apart, like 
I want to be here with you forever.... What does it feel like? You 
know in your backside? When a guy does it,..." he asked. "Does it 
hurt a lot?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "I guess so, I don't really know Dylan. You're the 
first boy I've done this with. I don't remember much when I was 
younger. When I was a kid, I messed around a few times, I don't 
remember it hurting that much."

"You know what you said about needing something to lubricate 
me so's your cock could go in?" Dylan said. I looked up at the boy 
and nodded. "Would lip-gel do? I got some in my jeans 'cause my 
lips have getting a bit sore. Do you think we could use that?"

I laughed, tickling the boy until he giggled uncontrollably 
and we wrestled playfully in the soft bed of pine needles, "Yes, I 
guess we could use that. Are you really sure you want to do this? 
It'll probably still hurt a lot, it might not even fit in there."

Dylan shrugged, "There's no way we're gonna know that without 
trying is there. I'm game." I grinned, "You want me to swim across 
and get it? It'll only take a few minutes."

I shook my head as I stood up, "We'll both go, it's getting 
kind of hot here anyway. It's cooler back near our clothes." I 
reached down and took Dylan's hand pulling him to his feet. He stood 
before me, his lean naked brown body now shamelessly revealed, 
little bits of pine needles sticking to him where he had been lying. 
Gently I brushed him off, running my hands along the slender legs, 
over the rounded buttocks, up his narrow back. "You sure you really 
want to do this?" I asked.

Dylan nodded and stepped away, "Yeah I wanna do it, don't 
you?" I nodded and followed the boy down into the crevice between 
the rocks. We waded into the water together, the coolness 
refreshing and  restoring us. Slowly we swam to the other side of 
the pool, then when the water was too shallow, we waded ashore and 
walked over to where we'd left our clothes in two untidy piles.

Dylan reached down and picked up his jeans, sliding his hand 
first into one pocket and then into the other before he pulled out 
a small tube. It was one of the little lip-stick-type cylinders 
with the pull-off-top and he handed it to me with a big smirk. 
"Well, what do you think?" he asked huskily.

"Huh?" I teased, knowing that Dylan was every bit as excited 
as I was.

"Will it work?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know, it probably isn't very slippery. I think you're 
probably going to need something like vaseline. There's not very 
much inside these things and you'd want a lot back there for your 
first time."

"Oh!" the boy said unable to conceal his disappointment. He 
paused, then still pouting added, "But can't we try it anyway."

I grinned at the boy, "You're really sure you want to do this 
Dylan?" I asked. He swallowed as though afraid, thought for a 
second or two, then nodded eagerly. "Okay, young man let's do it!" 
I laughed pulling Dylan to me. His naked body was cool from the 
brief swim and, like me, his erection had subsided but as he hugged 
me, grinding his cock against my leg and pressing his belly into 
my cock, his excitement returned. He lifted up his face, his eyes 
looking into mine, his expression reflecting both lust and desire. 
Even as our mouths came tohether, his lips parted and his tongue 
pushed forward, seeking my mouth and tongue with an almost obscene 
hunger. We kissed long and hard, increasingly wet and passionate, 
tongues working together, sucking and sharing our saliva. The boy's 
slender brown arms locked around my waist, my own hands grasping 
the silky-soft skin of his butt-cheeks, pressing my  finger tips 
into his crack, caressing the hot moist crevice from the underside 
of his little shrivelled ball-sac up to the start of his backbone. 
After a few moments we were both fully erect, Dylan sliding his 
belly up and down, pumping himself against my cock, making the same 
little whimpering sounds that he'd made earlier as my forefinger 
pressed into his anus for the first time.

Both the boy and I were breathing rapidly, our cocks throbbing 
with excitement as I carefully eased Dylan down onto the grass, 
turning him over onto his belly. Instinctively his small hands came 
back, replacing my hands on his cheeks as I removed the top from 
the lip-gel. He looked back over his shoulder, fascinated as he 
watched my finger scooping up the cream-colored paste and he 
grinned cheekily, the sudden surge of adrenaline sending his heart 
racing, his anticipation swelling though his young naked body and 
easily overwhelming the fear and guilt that gnawed at him. He felt 
strange inside his belly, not sick but as if there was a pain that 
wouldn't go away until, until,... He watched as my hand moved 
downward, my forefinger coated with the lip-gel. He felt the 
coolness of the greasy paste as my finger touched the sensitive rim 
of his anus, then probed inside, smearing the lubricant over his 
opening. Then he knew from deep inside his belly what he needed for 
that strange feeling and as my finger pushed back into him, up into 
the boy's tight bowel Dylan moaned, pushing his buttocks up to meet 
me and driving my well lubricated finger inwards. My finger curled 
pressing back into his belly right before his bladder, into the now 
familiar special place inside him. I rubbed him gently, absorbed 
by his body's natural reaction, his legs stretching out, his toes 
curling into the grass, his fists clenching and unclenching. I 
pulled my finger free and added more of the lubricant, pushing a 
big yellow blob down into his anus.

He gasped, his rigid cock straining as it flexed, his scrotum 
tightened even further, protectively pulling his little balls up 
close. He moaned again, the feelings that surged outward from my 
gently stabbing finger even more intense that they had been 
earlier. I pumped my finger hard for a few moments, then gently 
rubbed that sensitive spot inside him, then pumped again, feeling 
the boy's sphincter tighten and then loosen on my finger. More than 
the first time, I was aware of the heat that began just inside his 
body, the pressure of his squeezing anus slowly fading as he began 
to relax. After a few more minutes I pulled my forefinger back and 
then, with my first finger tightly beside it, squeezed both back 
into the now loosened anus. His anal band was still tight, as tight 
as it had been earlier, but this time the lubricant helped and my 
fingers pushed in, past the first joint and up to the second. Dylan 
was panting, shuddering with each thrust of my fingers into his 
bowel. Every few moments the boy tried feebly to push his buttocks 
back towards me, desperate for me to continue the massage of his 
immature prostate, but unable to find the strength. Over and over 
he began to cry, "Ohhh, oh that's soooo good."

I took Dylan right up to the edge of another orgasm before I 
slowed down and let the boy recover his senses. That helped to 
dilate him even further so I did it again, and then again after 
that, each time draining the boy's strength until he was barely 
able to move. Then, after a few more minutes I knew that his anal 
band was about as loose as it was going to get. I'd used more than 
half of the lip-gel so far but it seemed to do the job. The heat 
of his body softened it, turning it greasy, and as it joined with 
the mucous within him, it made his flesh sensitive to touch and 
very slippery. I stopped, withdrew my fingers with a 'loud sucking 
sound' and began to lubricate my cock. Dylan looked up weakly, even 
turning his head was an effort now. Despite his heavy breathing, 
he smiled between gasps as he saw me smearing the lip-gel over my 
cock. "You,... you,... gonna put it inside me now?" he asked.

I nodded, wondering how best to do it, I really didn't want 
to hurt him, I wanted his first time to be something he'd never 
forget, and not because of the pain he'd undergone. Lying on top 
of him would put all my weight onto him. I thought about placing 
him on his side, foetal position, and lying behind him, or lifting 
him into a crouching position and kneeling behind him. Finally I 
settled on my second choice and I knelt over him, placing my hands 
on the boy's narrow hips. I twisted him over, lifting his legs up 
so that his knees were nearly at his shoulders, then I lay down 
behind him. From where I lay it was impossible to see the boy's 
anus but I positioned the head of my cock between his fingers, 
pressing between the soft warmth of his butt cheeks. Dylan sighed 
and murmured something, using my right hand I reached around his 
hip and gently stroked his penis, massaging his little balls. He 
sighed again, pushing back slightly so that my cock probed into his 
small loosened opening. Lovingly my lips brushed his neck, my 
tongue tickling the soft skin of his shoulder, biting the tender 
flesh gently, making sure that any marks that I left were beneath 
where the neck of his shirt would normally cover.

My cock seemed to get harder and larger than it had ever been, 
the head was swollen up and the veins bulged and I was certain that 
it would never fit inside the slender young boy lying before me. 
The head of my cock was like a wedge between his butt cheeks, the 
dimple of his anus felt like a little soft spot into which the very 
tip of my cock had burrowed. That precious opening into Dylan's 
young body seemed to glow with the heat from inside him, growing 
and drawing me inside like a spell. I pressed forward, testing the 
boy's resistance. He gasped, then grunted as he felt the head of 
my cock ram into his sensitive most-private place. I pushed forward 
again, and then again, trying to get past the boy's tightness. 
Dylan squealed then he lifted one hand up to his mouth, biting on 
his knuckle as he began to sob. Each time I increased the pressure, 
wondering how I had ever managed to get two fingers inside him only 
a few minutes earlier. After about a minute or so I stopped, feeling 
the head of my cock implanted barely inside the boy. I wasn't in 
very far but it was far enough. He was shaking, and I knew that he 
was in pain. He needed to stop, to let his body adjust, to accept 
the strange new presence.

"You okay, Dylan?" I asked gently, "You want me to stop?"

The boy choked back a sob, shaking his head wildly. "God it 
hurts.... Don't stop! But try to go slow,...okay? It's in a little 
bit isn't it?"

"Yeah," I acknowledged, reaching up an lifting the boy's hand 
away from his mouth, "It's okay to cry Dylan. I know it hurts." 
Gently I drew his hand downward, then over his hip and between our 
bodies, placing his fingers against the shaft of my cock. "You can 
feel how far it's in." I whispered in his ear. The boy's hand was 
moist and hot and his fingers slowly moved along the shaft of my 
cock. He felt the ridge around the head of my cock mushrooming out 
from inside him, forming a ring that seemed to prevent any passage 
into him. "Just relax Dylan. When I push, you push down too, like 
you're trying to poop."

The boy nodded and after a while, when he'd stopped gasping, 
I tried again. The boy strained, increasing the pressure on his 
bowel as if he was constipated as my cock was forced forward until 
the boy winced, then yelped as a sharp pain racked his young body. 
I stopped pushing forward, holding Dylan's trembling body until the 
pain faded. Again we tried. This time my cock pierced his body, the 
flared head penetrating into him so that it disappeared inside. The 
heat and pressure within the boy was overwhelming, his anal band 
clamping down hard on my cock as he convulsed, then began to 
struggle, his weakened body following its natural impulse and 
trying to escape. I held him tightly to me, grasping his hips so 
that he couldn't pull away. "It's okay Dylan," I whispered 
soothingly in the boy's ear, "It's okay honey. It's inside now. 
It's okay" 

After less than a minute Dylan's struggles ceased and he lay 
quietly, his breathing rapid, enduring sobs and shivering as the 
pain faded. He reached between our bodies again, his fingers 
feeling for my cock, then tracing along the rigid shaft to where 
it disappeared inside him. This time he didn't feel the head of my 
cock, just the thick hot shaft as it penetrated him, his anus 
stretched wide open, the sensitive flesh almost tearing. 
"You're,...you're inside me. It's,... it's in a long way," he 
whispered in awe.

I leaned over him and kissed the boy's tear stained cheek, 
tasting the sweet saltiness of his tears. "Yes it is. I'm sorry I 
hurt you, Dylan."

For a long time the boy was quiet, then he whispered, "That's 
okay, it,... kind of feels better now. Jesus you feel big but, it 
feels like it's gonna burst back there."

I nodded and kissed the boy again, "I think the worst of it 
is over now, in a little bit, when you're ready, I'm going to go 
deeper. Just push down on it like before, okay?"

Dylan nodded, "Do it now. It feels okay," he instructed.

With the head of my cock inside the boy, the worst was over. 
As I pushed forward again with a long careful thrust I felt the 
boy's anal band squeezing on my cock, gradually pushing further 
upward, the heat increasing until I had about three inches inside 
him. Dylan groaned as he felt my cock driving hard into him then 
expanding to fill his bowel, then he convulsed as his sphincter 
clamped down on my cock, "Ohhhh! SHIT that hurts", he yelped. I 
stopped again to let the boy recover. "No don't stop, just do IT!" 
he gasped. Having my fingers inside him had been nothing like this. 
The pain was indescribable, but so was the pleasure. My cock was 
forced hard against his little prostate, he trembled uncontrollably 
as shivers went up his spine, his legs writhing against mine as he 
was impaled. The pressure so intense inside the boy that his 
bladder weakened, his yellowish urine dribbling involuntarily from 
his now limp penis, down the furrow between his thigh and hip and 
onto the grass.

I pushed again, slowly and very carefully, with a long 
deliberate thrust, feeling the boy's body bearing down to meet me. 
Another two inches slowly, inexorably pushed into him. I stopped 
when it seemed as if no more could ever fit inside that slender 
young body. His rectum was squeezing ever few seconds, his 
tightening spasms and cramps progressively becoming weaker and less 
frequent. I could every motion of the boy's body transmitted 
directly into mine. It was as if we were joined together as one, 
our bodies united, every shudder, every cramp, even the frantic 
pounding of his heart, a part of my body. As soon as the boy's 
sobbing ceased I began to thrust into him, pulling back gently then 
squeezing forward as slow as I could, moving my cock about an inch 
or two inside that incredibly tight, hot passage. I was never more 
aware of the feelings in my cock. His sphincter tried valiantly to 
tighten up but finally it surrendered, as Dylan surrendered his 
virginity. I began to fuck the boy, listening to my cock sucking 
loudly in the mucous and lubricant that had somehow seeped out of 
him. The boy's rectum was coated with slippery juice, though taut, 
the walls of his bowel were soft and smooth not unlike the inside 
of his mouth when he'd sucked my cock earlier in the day. I reached 
around his hip, taking his very limp penis between my thumb and 
first two fingers. I began to masturbate him, squeezing gently on 
his little balls and rubbing him slowly at first, then faster as 
his cock became hard again.

It didn't take very long before Dylan reached the point of no 
return. It happened so quickly that I couldn't slow down. One 
second he was trembling and gasping for air taking quick shallow 
breaths each time my cock pulled back, the next, his back arched, 
his legs jerking outwards, his head thrown back as he squealed from 
the sudden orgasm. I wondered if I should stop, he seemed to be in 
pain but the boy was two steps in front of me, "Don't stop! Keep 
on doing it," he hissed. I began to use my cock a little harder, a 
little faster, going just a little bit deeper. Dylan lay very quiet 
now, his energy drained, his young body exhausted. He whimpered, 
moaning quietly with each gentle thrust. Like before, the orgasm 
seemed to loosen the boy even further so that my cock moved easier 
inside him, slicked by the juices that had formed there. I knew it 
wouldn't be long before my own climax. I concentrated all my 
thoughts on trying to postpone the inevitable, but I was overcome 
by the wonderful body that engulfed me, by the delight that 
surrounded my dick.

I realized that Dylan had reached the peak again, his legs 
flailing wildly as he strained down on my cock, his muscles finding 
hidden strength as he began to gasp, then he convulsed in a sudden 
intense spasm. I had only seconds to go, I began to pump into the 
boy faster, finally pushing into him the whole way so that my balls 
slapped hard against his cheeks, reaching the boy's final 
resistance. I gave Dylan one final hard thrust, then groaned as I 
felt my balls tighten, come rising up my cock shaft, erupting from 
the head of my cock, spurting hot and thick into the boy as he 
shuddered with the passing of yet another orgasm. My cock jerked 
again and again, trying to empty itself, trying to fill the cavity 
inside his body with sperm. As my orgasm died away I collapsed over 
the inert boy.

I don't remember how long I lay there behind Dylan but it 
seemed like long while. I hugged Dylan to me, caressing his golden-
blond hair, stroking his lean, body. Both of us were covered with 
a sheen of perspiration, beads of sweat had trickled between us so 
that our bodies had stuck together. Unable to break the bonds 
between us I stayed joined to Dylan, my now-softened cock embedded 
deep inside his belly. Finally I sensed that the boy had fallen 
asleep and I carefully extricated my cock. His anus was fully 
dilated and loose on my limp cock, as I pulled back gently it 
slipped out easily, sucking like a shoe pulled out of mud as it 
came free. Dylan stirred slightly, then settled back down, still 
asleep, unaware of the void within him.

I moved back slightly and glanced down, feeling the bile rise 
in my throat as I saw the dark red blood that streaked my cock. At 
first I couldn't understand it and I stared dumbly at the redness, 
wondering stupidly whether it had come from me or Dylan. The boy 
had orgasmed twice, once the pain of my entry had passed and his 
body had become accustomed to my penis he had appeared to enjoy. I 
hadn't wanted to hurt him but I knew that at the very end, unable 
to hold back, I had gone too deeply and far too hard for his 
delicate body. But there wasn't much blood, just a few streaks that 
signified the loss of his innocence. He'd been so tight inside, 
that I realized then that we'd been lucky that I hadn't injured 
him. I slid down lower careful not to disturb the boy and gently 
parted his cheeks. His anus had completely opened up, the hole a 
little less that one inch in diameter, the crimson of his bowel 
clearly visible. My semen and the boy's blood and mucous had 
mingled to a reddish foam that oozed out of him, a little trickle 
running over his pale cheek, the rest making a thick and gooey mess 
over the underside of his ball-sac.

The bleeding had apparently stopped, there was no sign of 
where it had come from and I guessed that it had come from deep 
inside the boy. I twisted over, reaching for my jeans to get a 
handkerchief. I touched  something and pulled it toward me. It was 
Dylan's jeans, mine were still some feet away. I checked the 
pockets, but like most twelve-year-old boys he didn't carry a 
handkerchief. Guiltily, I pulled the white jockeys from within the 
boy's pants, they were clean and fresh looking, perhaps even brand-
new, and awfully small, size 22-24. I hadn't intended to hurt the 
boy, I wanted desperately to remove all traces of what I had done. 
Carefully I wiped the mess off his little scrotum, swallowing back 
the bile that kept rising in my throat, threatening to vomit each 
time I saw the results of my love for the boy. I nearly gagged when 
I saw the red stains soiling the perfect white cotton of the boy's 
underpants. Then I dabbed the cloth into his crack, gently so as 
not to wake him, looking to see whether more blood came out. By the 
time I had finished I was trembling. Carefully I moved up next to 
Dylan again, craddling his injured body with mine, fitting my knees 
up behind his legs, bending to meet the curve of his back, brushing 
his neck with my lips.

I don't know how long I lay there before I fell asleep too. 
It seemed as if hours passed, long lonely hours as I felt my guilt 
and shame growing ever stronger. Finally I too fell asleep in the 
hot afternoon sun and dreamed fitfully, waking again and again, 
then dozing off again, before my mind stopped replaying the 
terrible memory of the blood oozing out of Dylan's beautiful young 
body. It was Dylan that finally woke me up. I opened my eyes, 
suddenly startled, then looked up into Dylan's eyes as he leaned 
over me. He smiled shyly, "Hi sleepy head. I didn't think you'd 
ever wake up."

"Hi yourself," I murmurred. Then the memory came rushing back. 
"Dylan,...Dylan, I'm sorry, I,... I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm 
sorry that I hurt you." The words tumbled out as the boy grinned.

"You didn't hurt so much. At first it did when you were putting 
it in me, but then it stopped. It was wild, much better than when 
you did it with just your fingers."

"Does it hurt now?" I asked nervously.

Dylan shrugged, "Kind off. Now exactly hurt, it feels sort of 
sore inside, kind of in my belly, only deeper. Like it's bruised 
inside. My hole feels a lot bigger too. I guess it is huh?" he 
grinned.

"It really doesn't hurt?" I asked again, still uncertain, 
still seeing the blood oozing out.

"Nah, I'm okay, really I am," the boy replied.

"But you bled inside, there was blood coming out of you", I 
persisted.

"Yeah I know. I saw it on my underpants. There isn't very much. 
I got kind of worried too, but it's stopped now. I think next time 
you gotta do it slower or something."

I breathed out in relief. "We'd better get back, it must be 
after four," I said, glancing at the sun and then at my watch."It 
is, it's twenty past. Do you think you can ride okay?"

Dylan nodded, "Yeah but I think you'll have to help me up." 
His head tilted down and his lips pursed. We kissed, mouth to 
mouth, sharing our tongues. When we parted Dylan gave me a cheeky 
grin. "That was nice, almost as nice as what you did back there." 
He paused a moment or two then started to giggle, breaking into a  
laugh, "You were awesome," he added.

"So were you, Dylan. You were 'awesome' too." I laughed with 
the boy  then we kissed again. "I guess we better get back before 
Kelly starts getting worried and comes out to look for us."

Dylan nodded and leaned over me to pick up his jeans. I watched 
as the boy slid his feet in, then pulled them halfway up his slender 
legs before he came to his knees, playfully pushed his small limp 
cock down into his pants, closed the zipper and fastened his belt. 
I picked up his underpants, "What about these?" I teased. Dylan 
smirked, "You keep 'em. I can hardly wear them home. If mom finds 
them in the wash she'll die."

I picked up my trophy, the unmistakable evidence of our union. 
"I'll keep them forever to remind me of today, Dylan," I said as I 
rolled over to reach my own clothes.

Dylan smiled, "The first time we did it huh?"

I came to my feet and started to get dressed. "More than that. 
It's the first time I realized how much I loved you."

Dylan looked down at his bare feet in sudden embarrasment. 
"Yeah,... I know."

We finished dressing, then with Dylan's underpants rolled up 
and secure in my pocket, we walked up the embankment to where we 
had left the horses. Dylan walked uneasily, and I had to help him
scramble up the last few feet, he was obviously on very tired boy.
The horses were grazing peacefully, still where we left them, oblivious
to what the boy and I had done down at the creek. I saddled both of the 
horses then I locked my hands together, bent down so that he could put
his foot and gave Dylan a boost onto his horse, lifting his eighty
plus pounds easily. He winced as he lifted his leg up over the saddle, 
sitting down awkwardly, obviously still sore inside. I mounted my 
horse and we guided our horses in a slow walked back up the barn. 
We didn't say much, both of us engrossed in our own thoughts, 
remembering what had transpired in the woods that afternoon, trying 
to sort out our confused feelings about what we had shared 
together.


Chapter 6.

Once the horses were unsaddled I led Dylan back into the 
house. It was just past five o'clock and we'd eaten nothing since 
breakfast. Dylan was starving and I quickly made sandwiches. He 
stood beside me as I sliced cheese and tomatoes and spread 
mayonnaise on the bread, looking up at me, his eyes questioning, 
curious, radiating an intensity that I hadn't noticed before.

"You like cheese and tomato sandwiches?" I asked.

Dylan shrugged, "Okay I guess, I'm so hungry I could eat 
anything right now." He looked away then winced as his belly 
cramped and a little fart gurgled wetly out from behind him.

I grinned back at the boy, "That sounded pretty wet back 
there."

 He looked back at me and smirked cheekily, "Yeah, If feels 
yucky. I think some of your stuff came outta me, it's wet on my 
jeans. I've been doing that, cuttin' 'em all the way back from the 
creek."

I laughed, "There's probably a whole lot of gas inside you. 
Maybe you're reacting to the lip-gel? That really isn't the stuff 
to use next time I think," I teased.

"It worked but, didn't it? So what should you use?"

"I know there's stuff called KY that's s'posed to be better 
for you," I answered. "Other than that I really don't know. 
Vaseline, I guess, but it's probably going to do the same thing as 
the lip-gel."

"KY? Like in Kentucky?" he giggled, "Is that where it's made?" 
I laughed as I cut the sandwiches into halves, then poured two 
Cokes. "I think Vaseline would be better,... the next time we do 
it. I'll clean up after lunch, I'm ready to die of hunger."

There had been an unmistakable tension in his voice since we 
had left the barn. I wondered whether the boy was suffering from 
the after effects, the guilt and shame that I knew he'd feel 
eventually as he came to understand that he really was gay. It would 
be a difficult time for him, already tormented by his friend's 
claim that he was a 'faggot'. I wanted to help Dylan, to make his 
realization as gentle as possible, to support him so that unlike 
me, he accepted rather than rejected his sexuality. "So what's the 
problem?" I asked as I passed him his sandwich.

The boy shrugged and started to turn away, then his head swung 
away and he looked back, "What you said before, at the creek?"

"Huh, what in particular?"

"You know,... About it being the first time that you realized 
how much you loved me?" he continued. I looked up at the boy and 
nodded. "Did you mean it,... about loving me? Like when people get 
married. I mean,... well I'm just a kid and all,... and well I guess 
two guys can be in love,... but,... well do you know what I mean?"

I nodded, "Yeah I think so. What do you think?"

Dylan hesitated, as he went around the island workbench and 
climbed up onto the kitchen stool. "I,... well I think you love me. 
It's more than what we did down there at the creek, and,... well 
it's different to being friends and all that."

"Like with your friend, Gary," I suggested, then added, "So 
tell me how you feel."

Dylan lifted his sandwich up, then stopped halfway. "I like 
you a whole lot. I kind of feel strange inside. I keep getting this 
feeling, I want to keep looking at you, it's like I'm afraid you'll 
go away and I won't see you any more. I think,... I love you,... 
but I don't know how it's supposed to feel. Like with my mom, I 
know I love her, but it's not like this."

I smiled at the boy and lovingly brushed his bare brown 
forearm. "Well, we'll figure it out. Go ahead and eat your 
sandwich, you must be starving." The boy grinned and took a large 
bite. I watched him chew, wondering about our newly formed 
relationship. He was an easy boy to love, sitting there swinging 
his slender legs as he bit into his sandwich ravenously, his 
golden-blond hair tousled and falling over his forehead, his light 
blue eyes sparkling. I sat down next to him and ate my long-delayed 
lunch, very aware of his body just inches away, remembering the 
soft smooth warmth of his slender body, his gentle hands touching 
my penis, his playful giggles, the sweetness of his breath as we 
kissed, the intense heat and pressure that I had discovered inside 
him. I wanted to lift him up in my arms and carry him up to the 
bedroom and savor those wonders again and again. I felt my cock 
began to harden again, my urge intensifying, overcoming any 
resistance. But there was still the insistent memory that I carried 
of the boy's buttocks and his little wrinkled ball-sac stained with 
blood, I knew now that I loved him too much to hurt him again like 
that.

"I better call Kelly and tell we'll pick him up in bit," I 
said, leaving my sandwich half-finished on the plate. I stood up 
and went over to the telephone. "I think I'll tell him 'bout a half 
hour or so. I guess you better have a shower before I take you 
home."

Dylan grinned and nodded and went back to his sandwich, 
finishing the first and starting on the second. I dialed the number 
and spoke to Joey's father, telling him that I'd drop by to pick 
up Kelly, then as an after thought, increased my estimate of the 
time to 'maybe forty five minutes or more'. I put the phone down 
and turned back to Dylan, only to see him taking large bites out 
of my sandwich. "Heh, come on Dylan, that's mine', I laughed.

"So, I was hungry," he said, laughing with me as he put the 
remains of the sandwich back on the plate.

I came over to where the boy was sitting and glanced down at 
the remains of my sandwich, "You didn't leave me very much," I 
complained playfully. "And there are teeth marks in it too, you 
little bugger," I added grabbing Dylan around the shoulders. I 
jerked his arms up over his head and began to tickle him under the 
ribs.

He giggled uncontrollably, writhing and trying to escape as 
he cried, "I was hungry, but!" I had my arms full with the 
wriggling, laughing boy and I had to wonder how he found the energy 
and strength that he exerted as he twisted and turned. Dylan's mood 
had changed, he was obviously a very different boy to just a few 
minutes ago. He could barely control himself as he continued to 
tease me, "Besides a few teeth marks is nothing compared to what 
you did to me today. You bit me all over my shoulders,... and,... 
and I've got a butt full of your come,... so what's a few teeth 
marks, anyway." The boy convulsed with laughter

"Not really, I think you got most of it in your mouth. So you 
shouldn't be that hungry," I laughed as I reached down with one 
hand, restraining him with the other and playfully grabbed at his 
groin. The boy laughed even louder as he tried to protect his 
genitals and return the attack. "So maybe I should have this for 
lunch?" I teased as my fingers clutched on the soft bulge of his 
penis and testicles.

Dylan stopped struggling and looked up at me, his face 
flushed, breathless, "Heh, that's not fair." He smirked at me as 
he added, "But you can if you want."

"I think we'd better take you up and give you a cold shower", 
I said, pulling Dylan up from the stool by putting my arms around 
his chest and hugging him tightly to me.

"But I'm still hungry," The boy whined playfully, "I haven't 
finished my,... your lunch yet. You can if you want,..." he 
repeated meaningfully and very seriously, locking his legs around 
my hips so that I had to carry him.

"I can if I want,... what?" I teased, having an excellent idea 
of where Dylan was headed, but surprised by the extent of the boy's 
desire. Then a picture flashed through my head as I remembered him 
playing basketball, the seemingly boundless energy as he leaped, 
jumped, and ran in the heat of the afternoon. I was beginning to 
realize that this was one very sexy twelve-year-old boy.

"Whatever you want!" he smirked, "Anything! You're giving me 
a hard-on," he added as he tightened his legs around my hips.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Dylan. Anything I want, 
huh?" I asked jokingly, trying not to stumble as we lurched through 
the doorway and into the hall towards the stairs. He wasn't the 
only one getting an erection.

"Yeah, anything!" he replied, his voice suddenly turning husky 
the way it does when he became excited and things began to get out 
of control. "Anything you want,... even in my backside," he added 
with emphasis.

I shook my head "You're insatiable," I laughed, "I think I've 
created a sex-monster." I carried the boy to the bottom of the 
stairs before I put him down on his feet. I was tempted to carry 
him all the way up and into the bedroom but still I dared not. The 
chance of an accident, of hurting him, was far too much to bear.

Dylan looked at me with a stare, focusing his attention in the 
growing bulge in my jeans, "Yeah, I see I'm not the only one with 
one of those,... only your's is a lot bigger than mine," he observed 
teasingly.

I pretended to be serious, "Okay young man, upstairs at once, 
and let's get you cleaned up before you go home to your mom, or 
she'll wonder what on earth you've been doing all day."

Dylan smirked again cheekily, "Oh!... We'll just have to tell 
her that you spent the day,... fucking me." The F-word from the 
young boy's lips sounded particularly obscene, but not nearly as 
much as his gesture. His hand dropped down, his fingers enclosing 
the tight little bulge in the front of his jeans, then squeezing 
firmly, deliberately, as he looked back up at me. "'course we could 
just tell my mom that I got like this from riding all day."

Playfully I spun him around to face the stairs, then gave him 
a firm, resounding slap on the buttocks. Clothed in the tight denim 
of his old jeans, it felt rather like firm rubber. "Upstairs now 
and into the shower, Dylan," I ordered, pretending to be angry.

"Yyyoouch!", he squealed, "I gonna tell my mom,... I am,... I 
gonna tell her that you fucked me!" he taunted as he jerked away 
and began to leap up the stairs two at a time with me hard on his 
heels. By the time we reached the top of the stairs we were both 
laughing hysterically. Dylan ran down the corridor and into the 
second bedroom, seeking to 'escape my wrath'. I followed him into 
the room as he glanced back over his shoulder, still laughing. The 
boy darted to one side as I came past, then in a single bound, 
jumped onto the bed with a flying leap from about six feet away. 
he lay there giggling uncontrollably, massaging his cock and balls 
as he repeated, "I'm gonna tell my mom! I'm gonna tell my mom you 
fucked me."

The room was dark and cool because the curtains were drawn. I 
flopped down beside the boy spread-eagled on the bed, still 
laughing, trying to catch my breath. "Where the hell did you learn 
words like that? A nice boy like you!" I taunted.

Dylan turned towards me, resting his head on my shoulder and 
placing his hand on my thigh, his small fingers extending downwards 
to my groin, then slowly inching towards my throbbing cock. The boy 
had just one thing on his mind. "All the guys at school talk like 
that!" he said, pretending to pout. "Fuck this and fuck that, 
that's all they talk about."

"Well," I said in mock seriousness, "I don't love them. And I 
don't like you talking that way. You make is sound,... well so 
dirty."

Dylan thought for a moment, then giggled, "It's not but is it? 
Okay, so what do you call it when you stick your big hairy cock up 
my butt, huh?"

I laughed, "Now that does sound dirty. It isn't that big and 
it certainly isn't all that hairy."

Dylan's fingers brushed against my genitals, his thumb 
stroking the rounded lump that was the head of my cock. "Well he 
is compared to mine!" he replied. He was quiet again for a moment, 
"Well do you want to do IT or not?" he asked as he kicked off his 
Nike Airs and let them fall to the floor with a thud.

There was no mistaking the plaintive sound in the boy's voice, 
as husky as ever, trembling with barely controlled excitement. I 
lovingly covered his small hand with mine, pressing it harder onto 
my cock, "You're gonna turn in a 'faggot' if you keep this up," I 
answered, trying to control my own excitement.

"Who me?" the boy said in a high-pitched falsetto voice. "You 
said I was too young to be queer," he added.

Suddenly he pulled his hand from under mine, taking it away 
from my groin, brushing his dishevelled golden-blond hair back. He 
looked down towards his feet, trying to extricate some meaning from 
the confusion in his mind. He lay back, now taciturn, considering 
his options silently for almost a full minute. The boy sucked on 
his bottom lip pensively, then twisted over onto his back, his 
decision now made. His hands came to his waist, fumbled momentarily 
with his belt buckle, then the clasp on his jeans, then, looking 
up at me, his eyes challenging me with a silent stare, his right 
hand pulled the zipper down. It was the only sound in the room and 
it seemed very loud. Dylan lifted his buttocks up, tugging his 
jeans downward, his eyes still locked on mine as his hands came to 
his knees, then all the way to his feet, before he lay back. The 
boy was naked from the waist down, his body suddenly looking pale 
in the darkness of the room.

The boy lay back, except for his ragged breathing he was 
inert, almost drained by the effort but very aware of my eyes as 
they travelled downward to his cock. It was very hard and it pointed 
up towards his navel, parallel to, but not touching his flat belly. 
He flexed his sphincter muscle, making his cock jerk teasingly, 
"Okay, so I'm a 'faggot', I'm queer okay?" he whispered as if afraid 
that someone else would hear.

"I'm glad,..." I said gently, placing my hand on his bare 
thigh midway between his knee and hip, "I'm glad you are. It's 
nothing to be ashamed of. No one else has to know, not until you're 
much older and you want them to know. I love you, Dylan" 

The boy nodded, wanting more than ever to return the words. 
Slowly he swallowed, "I love you too, Alex", he whispered at last.

In those few seconds I was never more aware of the boy's 
fragility. Despite his energy, the firm muscles in his young body, 
the passion he'd shared with me earlier in the day, his obscene 
teasing; he was still a boy, a twelve-year-old boy, a very 
sensitive boy on the verge of discovery. I swallowed, then to break 
through the barrier that had formed in my mind, I reached down and 
began to unfasten the small white buttons of his shirt. Dylan 
looked up at me, his tongue wetting his lips as he breathed heavily, 
swallowing nervously, his heart pounding, knowing deep inside him 
that everything had just changed, that it wasn't a game any longer. 
I took his hands in mine and gently pulled him up into a sitting 
position. I eased the shirt back, exposing his chest, tiny thin 
ripples of flesh forming at his waist, then pulling the sleeves 
outward and past his hands. The boy was naked, totally naked except 
for his socks, his precious body exposed, shamelessly and visibly 
aroused. I leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the sweetness of his 
mouth, his inquisitive tongue probing for mine, then engaging in a 
wet, passionate wrestle as I hugged his soft warmth to me.

After nearly a minute I gently pushed him away. "I love you 
Alex," he whispered again.

I nodded, taking the boy by the hand I pulled him up from the 
bed and led him into the bathroom. "First we have to clean up. I 
want you to shower, then if we have time, we'll go back in there 
and finish what we started," I said, reaching through the opening 
into the shower to turn on the water.

Dylan looked at me angrily, "But!..." he retorted.

"No buts Dylan, least not until you've cleaned up," I teased. 
Then standing before the naked boy I started to remove my own 
clothes.

Dylan's eyes lit up immediately, "What are you doing?... Why 
are you undressing too?" he asked curiously.

I grinned back up him as I pulled my jeans and briefs past my 
feet, then as I stood up I said, "'cause I'm taking a shower with 
you."

"Huh?!". For an instant Dylan looked confused, then his smile 
widened. I started to come closer, my arms spread wide to catch the 
boy. "Ohhhh!" he yelped as I grabbed him around the waist. He 
struggled playfully as I lifted him over to the shower and into the 
water. He giggled boisterously, wriggling and twisting as the water 
cascaded down over us.

Seeing the boy's excitability was all the provocation that I 
needed. I pushed him back against the shower wall where the flow 
of water was the strongest. It wasn't a hard push but it was firm 
enough so that he knew who was in control, then pining him with one 
hand I stood back to relish the boy's beautiful body. I was 
enraptured. The water streamed down his slender brown body, forming 
a riverlet over his navel, then reaching his rigid little penis, 
broke into two and ran down his legs. Dylan's hair was washed back, 
his tiny nipples forming two hard dark points on his flat chest, 
his lips pursed, quivering with desire. His arms reached out to me 
and I stepped forward, hugging the boy tightly to me as his arms 
locked around my waist. He was wet and slippery and delicious. His 
mouth lifted up to meet mine as we came together. As we stood there 
locked together under the cleansing water, I ravished the boy, 
kissing, licking, sucking anywhere and everywhere. Dylan 
responded, kissing me urgently and grinding his cock against my leg 
as he began to rock his hips from side to side rhythmically. My 
hand dropped down and slid between our bodies, grasping Dylan's 
small hard cock tightly in my fist and rubbing it feverishly as he 
thrusted back and forth wildly, pumping his soft belly against my 
cock.

A minute went by, maybe more, our bodies abandoned to carnal 
lust, until finally I had to force Dylan away. He looked up angrily, 
his desire unabated, "Come on, don't stop,... not now okay!" he 
pleaded breathlessly.

"You keep that up Dylan and I'm gonna come any second," I said, 
trying to quieting the boy as he lunged back at me.

"So?... So I want you to come! I want you to come on me," he 
retorted, "if you're not gonna come in me".

"No you don't," I grinned at the boy's obscenity. "Not now. 
I'm going to soap you up and when you're all nice and clean I'm 
taking you back in the bedroom and we're going to do it again. Only 
this time, we're using Vaseline."

Dylan's eyes flashed with joy, "Yeah? I s'pose so," he said 
feigning disinterest, but giving himself away with the excited 
tremble in his voice.

I guided Dylan into the corner furthest away from the water 
and I picked up the soap. I knelt down paying homage to my young 
lover as I feasted my eyes on his rigid penis only inches away from 
my face. Then I began to soap his body, working up a good white 
lather on his legs. I made my way upwards slowly, tantalized by the 
smooth slipperiness of the boy's soap-slicked skin. When I came to 
his buttocks I parted his cheeks and examined his anus. It was still 
slightly dilated, the rim now redder than it had been than when I 
first saw it earlier in the morning. It looked sore and slightly 
puffed out as though it was swollen and I was certain that he'd 
been bruised by the forced entry of my cock. I tested the boy's 
orifice with a careful push of my finger before soaping into his 
crack liberally. It didn't seem to bother him. Once his back was 
well soaped I twisted him around to face me and washed to his belly, 
chest and shoulders, saving the best for last. I soaped his penis 
and scrotum thoroughly covering them with a thick white foam, 
soaping until the boy's penis was so hard it felt as though it could 
be snapped off but it could barely be seen. I don't know who had 
the greatest fun, me or Dylan. 

The boy giggled and twisted and sighed with obvious delight, 
grinning cheekily and thrusting his hips rapidly so as to move his 
slippery, soap-covered cock in my hand, oblivious to the water as 
it showered down over him, he was intent only on extracting the 
maximum delight from his rigid little cock as it pumped back and 
forth. I could have spent the rest of the day in the shower with 
Dylan. The boy's effort was, of course to no avail. It would be a 
long time before he was able to get the kind of satisfaction he 
wanted and we both knew it.

I washed myself quickly as Dylan rinsed away the soap lather, 
letting the water splash over him, carrying the foam down to the 
tiled floor. We stepped out of the shower together and towelled off 
quickly. Dylan's penis had subsided slightly but his excitement 
certainly hadn't. He was bubbling with boyish enthusiasm as he 
roughed up his hair with his towel. "Come here, Dylan" I said as I 
opened the vanity cabinet and removed the small jar of vaseline, 
"It probably isn't as good for you as KY or something like that, 
but it'll do for now. That is if you really want to? I'm afraid 
it'll hurt quite a bit, I bet you're sore inside."

The boy nodded, his eagerness clearly visible on his face as 
he came forward, the pain he'd experienced on the first attempt now 
just a memory. He grinned at me cheekily, "Well at least we can 
try, okay? If it hurts too much I'll tell you and you can stop."

"Okay kudo, but we're going to have to be quick about it. 
Kelly's expecting us in a bit over half an hour." Dylan followed 
me out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I turned to face 
him as I reached the bed. The boy stepped into my outstretched arms, 
his body still moist and hot from the shower, his hair damp and 
bedraggled, brushed back from his forehead and gathering in dark 
thick strands. He radiated a freshness as his mouth lifted up to 
mine, and I smelled the perfumed scent of soap as my nose brushed 
against his head. As we kissed I gently eased Dylan down onto the 
bed, following him and pressing him back into the pillows. His hair 
was wet and tangled and as he lay there watching me open the jar 
of Vaseline I was struck by his sensuous smile. I knew that the boy 
wanted this every bit as much as I did. "Roll over onto your tummy 
and lift your butt up in the air," I instructed. Dylan complied 
willingly. "Now, spread those cheeks wide open and let's get some 
of this inside you."

Dylan looked over his shoulder watching as I scooped up some 
of the Vaseline on my finger, a broad cheeky grin on his face, "You 
better use lots okay. I am a little bit sore still," he teased.

I slapped his bare cheeks playfully with my other hand, "I bet 
you are. If this hurts I want you to tell me, promise?"

"Yeah,... but I don't want you to stop. I'll be okay," Dylan 
answered meekly.

"You let me be the judge of that. I don't plan to hurt you 
like that again, ever again. We're going to have to be very careful 
from now on," I said as I placed a big yellowish gob on the boy's 
anus."

"Oh,... Ohhhh,... that's nice. It feels so cool," the boy 
sighed as he felt the coolness melting into the heat of his body. 
"Mmmm that's good. Mmmmm. Oh! Hey that's your finger. Yeah, that's 
good. That feels soooo good," he moaned, wriggling his buttocks as 
he tried to draw my finger further inside. "Yeah,... do it deeper."

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"It's sort of sore, kind of, but nice. It's not as tight back 
there as it was before is it?" Dylan asked. 

"I,... I don't think so. Does it feel okay?" I asked 
nervously.

"Stop worrying, okay. I promise I'll tell you if it hurts," 
the boy whimpered, "Do it deeper. Like before, when you push into 
my belly kinda," he instructed. I complied, twisting my finger 
around, curling it slightly and probing for the boy's tiny 
prostate. I was immediately rewarded with a long moan, "Ohhh 
Yeahhh. That's,... that's it, right there, ohhhh yeahhh." He paused 
a moment, moving his buttocks uncomfortably, then pressed back 
towards me, "Yeah, that's it," the boy hissed. "Now do it faster!" 
he commanded.

Already I could feel the tension inside Dylan's body fading, 
his slender hips rotating as he began the ascent to orgasm. His 
sphincter valiantly contracted a few times but put up no real 
resistance. After a few minutes I added a second finger, squeezing 
it into the now-dilated opening and down into the narrow passage. 
Almost as soon as his body was accustomed to the greater demands I 
placed upon it, Dylan started to move his hips back and forth, using 
the muscles in his thigh, arms, and belly to achieve a wave-like 
motion in his lower body that forced my two fingers deeper into 
him, setting his own pace, grunting with each backward motion, then 
gasping as he pulled away again.

I let the boy do this for as long as I dared, until I noticed 
that his breathing was erratic, taking great gulps of air, the 
thrusting motion of his narrow hips was no longer rhythmic and 
carefully orchestrated, but had become irregular, faster, and much 
more strained, clear signs that his orgasm was beginning to close 
in quickly. "Okay Dylan, that's enough, okay," I said, placing my 
other hand on his buttocks to restrain him. Those few minutes as 
the boy had brought himself ever closer to orgasm had been 
overwhelming. I had watched and listened, absorbing the boy, 
captivated by his animal-like sounds of pleasure, overcome by the 
need within the boy which drove him relentlessly in the search for 
relief. In those few, all-too-brief minutes Dylan had been 
abandoned to his natural impulses, seeking the release that his 
body hungered for. Until then I had not understood, had not grasped 
the fundamental thesis that the boy, barely twelve years old, could 
become as sexually aroused as he would later, when he was 
physically mature and legally responsible.

The boy was gasping for breath as he slowed, trying to prolong 
his ecstasy, then gradually stopped, "Put him in! Okay!" the boy 
pleaded huskily.

As I had watched Dylan, crouching on the bed, head down in the 
pillows, his buttocks raised upward to meet my hand, I had wondered 
how best to take him. I wanted to see the boy's enjoyment, to watch 
his rapture, and there was only one way. As I pulled my fingers out 
of the boy's body it sucked noisily. Dylan whimpered slightly, 
instantly aware of the void inside, the pressure suddenly, 
irretrievably gone. In one movement I pushed the boy down onto the 
bed, twisting him away and rolling him onto his back, then lifting 
his legs up over my hips, my thighs coming to his buttocks. Dylan 
was nearly at right angles to me, but with one arm around his 
shoulders and the other under his legs I had control. With one hand 
I guided my cock forwards, easily finding the boy's deep crack, 
then probing for his opening. The angle was all wrong, his anus 
lower down than I wanted, and I lifted his legs up higher, bringing 
his lower-back up off the bed. I probed again, felt the wet, mushy 
heat, the softness of his anus fitting snugly over the engorged 
head of my cock.

I watched the boy as I pressed forward. His eyes opened wide, 
taking a sudden breath as he felt it, squeezing into his tight anal 
band, the momentary resistance, then penetrating. "Oh Yeah!" the 
boy moaned, "Ohhhhhh!"

"You okay?" I asked urgently, "Does it hurt?" Dylan shook his 
head rapidly, clenching his teeth as he pushed downward, straining 
to get more of my cock burrowed into him. "Take it slowly, Dylan," 
I said, "Tell me if it hurts." The boy nodded again, rapidly, then 
strained down again, forcing my cock further into him, deeper into 
the tight constricted bowel. It was, as Dylan would say, 'awesome'. 
I kept the pressure on, my thighs pushing forward relentlessly, 
letting the boy take my cock into him as he wanted. Inch by inch I 
felt my cock sliding deeper and deeper, the heat and wetness of his 
body engulfing my throbbing cock, the boy's occasional tightening 
spasms become weaker and less frequent. Finally he stopped, our 
bodies joined together as one. He winced as he shifted his hips 
slightly, moving my cock inside him, then lay still, his strength 
drained momentarily.

Dylan was breathing quickly, with short fast gasps, a look of 
triumph on his face, his eyes half-closed, tiny beads of 
perspiration on his forehead. I smiled at the boy proudly, lovingly 
caressing the soft golden-blond curls on his neck. "You okay?" I 
asked gently. Watching the boy's effort as he struggled onto my 
cock had been unforgettable. I had watched pain slowly change to 
pleasure, seeing the satisfaction of his desires as he impaled 
himself. It was, I decided, the only position we would use from now 
on. Well, at least for a while.

The boy nodded slowly, uncertainly. He tried to control his 
breathing, the same way he'd been trained when he was swimming, 
taking long slow breaths, counting as he held it in. "He's,... he's 
in,.... all the way,.... I think. He feels sooooo big inside."

"Huh huh," I acknowledged, lifting the boy's small hand 
nearest to me and drawing it down between his legs, beside his 
little limp penis, over the tiny rounded knot of his balls. At the 
back of his balls, the boy's fingers brushed against my wiry pubic 
hair, then a little further touched what still remained of my cock. 
There was barely an inch left. "Not quite all the way, Dylan. But 
far enough. You feel okay."

"Yeah,... yeah I think so.... It sort of hurts in there..... 
Start doing it slowly.... I'll tell you if it gets worse.... You 
do the work now, okay?" he said, his voice trembling as he 
shuddered.

"I love you, Dylan", I whispered.

Dylan smiled weakly, "I love you too," he said huskily, then 
added, "A lot!"

I began slowly, moving my hips forward barely an inch before 
carefully pulling back, letting Dylan's legs go, so that he could 
position himself. He responded by moving his knees even further 
apart so that his legs were wide apart, his small cock exposed on 
the little mound of his hairless pubis, his scrotum tightened up 
so far much that his balls were flattened into the cavities through 
which they had once descended. I stroked his penis, the delicate 
skin impossibly soft, the tiny helmet-head spongy, the short shaft 
loosened and impotent.

As the boy became used to my gentle motion I pulled him closer 
to me, so that while he still lay on his back with his slender brown 
legs up over my hips, his side was tucked against chest, his head 
cradled into my shoulder. I had one hand on Dylan's shoulder, 
restraining him slightly so that as my cock surged into him, he 
wasn't pushed away. With my other hand I caressed his legs, feeling 
the smooth brown skin with the texture of satin. I watched the fire 
in the boy's eyes as we shared our love, the 'innocent' pale-blue 
eyes looking into mine shamelessly, the whimper of delight as my 
thighs moved steadily, building up the rhythm, then slowing as he 
shuddered and twisted uncomfortably, stirring up the juices deep 
inside him, bringing him slowly, irrevocably to the edge of his 
sanity. As Dylan's penis hardened under my fingers I watched his 
body begin to writhe, his own narrow pale hips moving in response 
to mine, working the muscles that lined his clenching hot rectum 
as he sought to satisfy his own desires as well as mine. Every few 
seconds the boy would gasp for air, his arms grasping, hugging me 
tightly, his legs crooked behind me, his small feet digging into 
the bed cover, locking his buttocks hard against my thighs as I 
began to lunge again and again. I endeavoured not to go too deep 
into him but it was very difficult. On some thrusts the boy would 
give out a little yelp as though he'd been hurt, but when I looked 
at him for some indication he just shook his head wildly, 
insisting, demanding that I continue.

Then the boy convulsed wildly, his sphincter grabbing my cock 
and with all of the strength remaining in the boy's body Dylan 
lifted his hips up and slammed down against my cock as hard as he 
could. For an instant I was frightened by the intensity, the 
violence of the boy's movement, then pale yellow urine dribbled 
from the tiny slit in his penis, ran down his belly and pooled in 
his navel. It formed a glistening rounded citrine for a moment, 
then as he heaved again, lifting his buttocks and most of his back 
off the bed, it trickled over the brown skin of his belly and onto 
the bed. My cock pulled back so that only the head was still 
imbedded inside the boy, for seconds he shuddered, his back 
arching, his ribs standing out, more urine dribbling out as his 
bladder lost control. For the first time, as we lay locked 
together, our bodies heaving, both breathing quickly, I had watched 
Dylan experience his orgasm. It had come quickly, without any real 
warning because the boy had been on the edge of that precipice for 
almost the entire time. The sight of Dylan's slender young body in 
an ecstatic paroxysm, sharpened my own urge to the point where I 
began to thrust as fast and hard as I dared. It took three, perhaps 
four more lunges into the small, trembling boy before I felt my 
balls tighten. I thrusted forward, seeking the boy's heat, 
embedding my cock totally inside Dylan, my balls squeezing into his 
crack. Then I felt my semen rising up in what seemed an endless 
discharge, spurting deep into the hot, slippery flesh inside the 
boy.

Together we sank back onto the bed, both of us quaking, 
gasping, groaning, exhausted. I held Dylan tightly to me, knowing, 
understanding that this was the time that he most needed my 
protection, my comfort, my love. I whispered my love in the boy's 
ear as he whimpered little puppy-dog cries, somewhere between pain 
and pleasure. The boy looked back at me, his eyes part open, 
unfocused. He was conscious, but only barely. I hugged his moist 
body to mine, no longer exciting his penis, letting it subside, 
caressed his silky hair, touched his lips with my fingers, smelled 
the sweet musky aroma that drifted up from between our bodies. 
Dylan held my hand tightly in his small hand, afraid to let go, 
feeling the pressure inside his bowel slowly fade as my cock 
softened.

He stirred, aware of the presence of my cock still deep inside 
him, but missing the fullness. I kissed his lips, seeking his soft 
wet tongue as his mouth opened, stroking his cheek with my finger-
tips, then carefully, lifting his legs up, pulled back away from 
underneath the boy's buttocks. My cock popped out with a loud slurp 
as Dylan complained with a deep sigh, but he sank back into the bed 
peacefully resigned. Almost at that moment the bedroom seemed 
different. It was dark and silent, except for our breathing no 
sound disturbed the air, but with absolute certainty I knew that 
someone else was in the room. The realization came in an instant, 
a terrible dread even as I twisted away from Dylan, looking back 
over my shoulder towards the door. Kelly stood in the doorway 
watching. There was a sudden and very distinct taste of bile in my 
throat, the inescapable knowledge that my son, nearly seven years 
old had observed. In that instant I wondered how much he had seen, 
how long he had been standing there, but I knew the answer even as 
I saw him. The boy's right hand was at his groin, he was clutching, 
unclutching, rubbing himself nervously, his breathing as heavy and 
fast as Dylan or mine. "Oh my god," I whispered, my thoughts spoken 
aloud to the two boys.

Dylan, his back to me, suddenly tensed, his voice scared, "Is 
there blood?... Did I bleed,... a lot?"

"Huh? Ohhh,.... I.... I don't know,... Kelly's here,... 
he's,... he's watching,... he saw us," I said, my voice rising in 
panic.

"Oh!,... Oh shit,...Ohhhhh No!", Dylan whispered, then 
twisted away from me, curling into the foetal position and 
burrowing his head into the pillow as guilt and shame welled up 
inside him.

"What are you doing to Dylan, Daddy?" Kelly asked, his voice 
loud, anxious, frightened. I turned back to look at my son, trying 
to find words, and words that could save us. I looked at the boy 
dumbly, feeling my face reddening, swallowing, trying frantically 
to think. "Why did you have your penis in Dylan's bottom?"

"Uh,...Uh,... Kelly, you shouldn't,... you shouldn't be 
here.... Why,... why aren't you at Joey's?" I mumbled.

Kelly took a step forward, no longer at the door, now inside 
the room. His hand was still squeezing between his legs, his knees 
close together, protectively. Then another step into the darkness 
of the room, the young boy now silhouetted in the doorway. "'Cause 
you said. You said you were gonna pick me up at six o'clock 'n 
Joey's dad wanted to go out for dinner." Kelly took another step 
into the room, now only feet away. "Why don't you and Dylan have 
any clothes on? I thought you were wrestling at first,... then I 
saw you penis was in his bottom.... I thought you were hurting him!"

I shook my head, "Uh,....No,... No,... Kelly I'm not,... I'm 
not hurting him, okay?"

"But what are you doing?" Kelly persisted. Then he smiled 
slightly, "Are you making a baby?" The boy's smile widened and he 
giggled, "But he's a boy,... and it takes a boy and a girl to make 
a baby you said." I nodded. If ever there was a time I needed words 
this was it, but words, thoughts, ideas escaped me. "Are you 
teaching him how? Is he practising with you?"

I nodded stupidly, this was about as close as a seven-year-
old boy might get to understanding what he'd witnessed. "How 
long,... how long have you been,... watching?" I asked awkwardly, 
suddenly aware that Dylan was crying softly into the pillow, little 
muffled sobs, his body shivering in shame and the shock of 
discovery.

Kelly came another step closer to the bed so that he was now 
standing next to us. "Since you made him lie down on his back. When 
I first came up he was crouched down and you were doing something 
to him with your fingers, but I couldn't see that." I swallowed, 
my hands cupping my face in growing despair, shaking my head in 
disbelief, wondering why I hadn't closed the door, better still, 
locked it. "Does it hurt him to make babies?" Kelly asked softly, 
curiously, then added, "Why's Dylan crying for, Daddy?"

I looked up at the almost seven-year-old boy, startled to see 
that he was still clutching and unclutching his genitals, realizing 
that it was not a nervous response, but something far more primal. 
As I looked at my young son I sensed his arousal, the nervousness 
born of excitement and it frightened me, it was suddenly obscene. 
The boy that I had always cherished had witnessed my depravity with 
Dylan, barely five years older than he was, and it had excited him, 
it still excited him. I shook my head. "No Kelly, Dylan's okay, 
really he is. You,... you surprised him."

Kelly nodded wisely, "Dylan I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Are 
you sure he's okay, Daddy? Doesn't it hurt him when your penis is 
in his bottom? It looked like it did. He was crying out a lot like 
it hurt," the boy said with finality.

Dylan lifted his head up from the pillow, wiping his nose on 
the back of his hand, turning slowly onto his side, then pressing 
his now limp cock firmly against my thigh as he shook his head, 
"I,... I'm okay Kelly.... It hurt's,... a little bit at first,... 
but when I was crying,... it was because it felt so good."

"But,... well,... okay I s'pose. It smells funny in here but?" 
Kelly observed.

Dylan smiled shyly, "That's me, the smell comes from inside 
me."

"Oh,... But why did you put your penis in Dylan's bottom, 
Daddy? You said only boys and girls make babies, is that how boys 
do it?" Kelly continued, unsatisfied. "Do you do pee inside him?" 
he asked, pointing to the dark circular stain that had formed on 
the bed cover, "Is that pee-pee?"

I nodded, breathing out, surprised at my son's easy 
acceptance, now strangely fascinated by the fact that the boy was 
standing there beside us still persistently rubbing his genitals 
through his jeans. "Kelly sit down on the bed, please." I said 
gently. My son sat down. "Does your penis hurt?" I asked. Kelly 
shook his head. "It feels good doesn't it?" 

"Huh huh. It's nice," Kelly replied, smiling slightly at 
Dylan. "Is that why you were rubbing Dylan's penis? To make him 
feel nice?"

"Yes," I said. I was rubbing Dylan's penis and his bottom was 
rubbing on mine. Some pee came out of Dylan's penis because mine 
was pushing into his bladder, where his pee is stored until he has 
to go to the bathroom. It made your penis feel nice too when you 
were watching us, didn't it, Kelly? I asked.

My son glanced down at his jeans, entranced by the warm 
pleasant feelings that emanated there, that had spread through his 
entire body like fire, that made his spine tingle and his heart 
pound. He blushed slightly, "It that bad? Grandma said I shouldn't 
play it, but it feels so good when I touch it like that. Sometimes 
I can't help it and it gets so hard that it sticks out in my 
underpants."

"She's wrong Kelly, she doesn't understand boys. It's your 
body to enjoy. I hope you do it whenever you want. Dylan does, don't 
you," I added, "and so do I". Dylan nodded, his fingers reaching 
downward, sliding over his flat brown belly, enclosing his penis, 
squeezing gently, his slender fingers cupping the little rounded 
hemisphere of his balls. "You like Dylan a lot, don't you Kelly?"

Kelly nodded. Dylan smiled, slowly sitting up, still stroking 
his penis, his shame fading as he accepted the presence of another 
person, a witness to his emerging sexuality. He winced as a little 
spasm tightened in his bowel and he was aware of the rawness deep 
inside, his bruised flesh beginning to ache and make him feel 
slightly uncomfortable. "I like you a lot too Kelly," Dylan said 
quietly, "I like your Dad a lot as well. I wish he was my father. 
I never knew my father. Your dad is 'cool'. I really like him a 
lot, you know."

I sat up and lovingly I placed one arm around Dylan's bare 
shoulders and the other around Kelly, "Now I have two boys," I 
laughed. "Do you think we should adopt Dylan? You'd have an older 
brother, Kelly," I teased. 

Kelly nodded, looking up at Dylan with admiration. "But what 
about his mom?"

"Well,..." I began slowly, "when two people like each other a 
lot, like I like Dylan,...and they're very close friends,... well 
sometimes they do what we just did. They join their bodies together 
and share themselves. It makes them feel very nice, and they become 
even closer,... friends"

My son nodded, still looking at Dylan, "You and Dylan were 
joined together," he said, "and you're friends. I saw you put your 
penis inside Dylan's bottom,... does that mean you love him?"

My mouth opened in surprise and I glanced at Dylan. He was 
gently caressing his cock, teasing it slowly, deliberately erect 
again. That is one of the wonders of pre-teen boys, unable to 
ejaculate, the 'turn-a-round' time is about zero. Once he'd started 
the process, Dylan got hard in seconds. The boy smiled and nodded 
at my son. I nodded too. "Kelly, what you saw us doing, you've got 
to promise never to tell anyone, please," Dylan said 
conspiratorially. "I,... I love your Dad,... it's hard to 
explain,..." he looked at me hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

Kelly giggled knowingly, "But you can't get married, 'cause 
you're both boys,... Don't worry Dylan, I won't tell." The younger 
boy smirked, "His penis is getting bigger again," he observed.

I laughed, "He's always doing that. It's supposed to, Kelly. 
It's because he's happy and excited and he wants to have fun."

"His penis isn't that much bigger than mine," Kelly said, then 
giggled as he glanced downward, then across at me, adding, "But his 
is tiny compared to yours".

Dylan grinned cheekily and flexed his now-hard penis, making 
it slap loudly against his belly. I laughed, hugging Dylan to me 
closely. "You're insatiable Dylan. But I think we'd better get on 
our way home. We have a long way to go and we have to stop for 
dinner. Now do me a favor will you and go in the bathroom and clean 
up. 'specially back there okay. I don't want a mess on the car 
seat." The two boys laughed loudly and Dylan slipped off the bed 
and went over to the bathroom, walking gingerly. I smiled as I 
watched his pale firm buttocks, I expected that it'd be some time 
before Dylan was playing basketball again.

While Dylan was 'cleaning' up, Kelly helped me to remake the 
bed. I changed the bed cover and took the soiled one down to the 
laundry, rinsed out the stain and put it in the clothes dryer. By 
the time I was back in the bedroom Dylan was already half dressed 
and I dressed as the two boys talked. The trip back was uneventful, 
we listened to the Charley Daniels Band, had dinner at the 'Stoned 
Crow' and arrived home with Dylan almost at the exact time I'd 
promised his mother. Right before Dylan got out of the car he turned 
to me and gave me the biggest, wettest kiss of the day, then as he 
got out of the car, promised to call me the next day. He waved from 
the porch as I reversed into the drive. My son and I were going 
home to have a long talk, a very long talk.


Chapter 7.

Almost as soon as I pulled onto the road my son leaned forward 
from the back seat, placing his hands on the console between the 
two front seats. He looked out the windscreen silently, sucking on 
his bottom lip thoughtfully, the white tips of his baby teeth 
visible as he turned his small head and looked up at me. I glanced 
sideways at the boy as I drove down the road. Kelly was a very 
handsome boy but not like Dylan for whom the word 'beautiful' is 
entirely appropriate. "You have a good day, Kelly?" I asked as I 
turned the corner.

"Huh huh. I had fun with Joey...." he replied, then looked 
forward again. "Dad,...", he began, then hesitated, "... Dad I like 
Dylan,..."

I breathed out slowly, remembering, dreaming, my thoughts only 
on the beautiful twelve-year-old boy that had suddenly come into 
my life. "Yeah,... I know,... I like Dylan too."

"Dad,... I wish,... well I wish Dylan was my brother," Kelly 
said quietly.

I nodded, taking my right hand away from the steering wheel 
and playfully ruffling my son's hair for a moment. The boy's hair 
was silky soft, even softer than Dylan's, light brown with golden 
strands that had been bleached by the sun. "That would be nice,... 
I guess. You'd certainly have someone to play with," I answered.

"He's so nice,... like when he gave me his ice-cream at 
dinner." I nodded, placing my hand back on the wheel as I turned 
the corner. "Daddy,... you love Dylan don't you?..." I nodded again 
as I glanced down and saw that Kelly was looking at me shyly, 
curiously, "But you love him different to how you love me, or 
mommy," the boy stated with an insight that was well advanced 
beyond his nearly-seven years. Like Dylan, my son was a bright boy, 
both boys were highly intelligent, both destined for college, for 
a good profession.

"Yes, I guess so, more like how I love mommy than anything 
else I s'pose," I said gently.

"But,.... well Dylan's a boy,... and well,... isn't that 
different?" he persisted hesitantly as he tried to sort out the 
differences for himself.

I knew then that I had to be honest with Kelly, I needed him 
to understand what I felt for Dylan, why I loved him the way I did. 
"Sometimes,...", I began then stopped, breathed out, then began 
again. "You remember a while ago we talked about friends and how 
sometimes you just like one person more than another at school."

"Yeah! It's because everyone's is different, and you like 
things differently," Kelly answered.

"That's right. And some things you like a lot, some things 
just a little bit or not at all." Kelly nodded in agreement. "I 
want you to know that most men don't like boys the same way that I 
like Dylan, they like boys but not in the same way. And most boys 
that are Dylan's age like men, but not in the same way that Dylan 
likes me," I said then breathed out, wondering where to go next.

"That makes you and Dylan kinda special, but,..." Kelly added.

"Most men and boys like girls,... or women,... in the way that 
Dylan and I like each other," I continued.

Kelly shrugged, "I don't like girls," he said with conviction, 
then added, "They're no fun to play with!"

Laughing, I ruffled his hair again, "You're not even seven 
yet. You probably will when you're older, Kelly. There is probably 
not a single boy your age in the whole world who likes girls. But 
by the time most boys are about Dylan's age they begin to think 
girls are 'cool'. Later on, when they're older, they get married."

Kelly shrugged again, "I'm not getting married when I'm 
older!" he retorted. "Doesn't Dylan like girls? Maybe he isn't old 
enough yet?"

My heart turned as the thought clamored in my mind. The 
possibility that Dylan's affection was merely temporary, a brief 
interlude before his interest was transformed to the opposite sex, 
had never occurred to me. I felt an instant panic growing inside 
me, a voice shouting in my head as I considered, then tried to deny 
the possibility. "Maybe,..." I said quietly, breaking the silence 
that had filled the car for long terrible seconds. "But I,... I 
don't think so,... He might change as he gets older,... some boys 
go through a stage at Dylan's age,...but they grow out of it in a 
few years,... but I don't think so,... he might,... but I don't 
think he will,..." I said hopefully, praying that I was right.

"But,... well why doesn't he like girls then?" Kelly 
continued.

"I,... I'm not sure,... I don't think anyone really knows 
why,... but some boys,... some men are like that." I breathed out, 
turning the corner onto our street, then added as I slowed the car 
down, "I think some boys are born like that. Some just grow up like 
that,... liking boys more than girls."

"Do you think Dylan was born like that?" Kelly asked 
curiously.

"I don't know, maybe,... I think so. A lot of boys don't even 
realize that they're different until they're a bit older that 
Dylan. Some even pretend to like girls because other boys will make 
fun of them."

"Oh! That isn't very nice," Kelly said. "They're just 
different,... Dylan can't help being the way he is." I opened the 
garage door with the remote control, stopping the car briefly in 
the driveway, before driving in and parking next to the Corvette. 
Kelly scrambled forward and climbed out my door. "I hope I don't 
like girls when I grow up,... I want to be just like Dylan when I 
grow up."

I stifled a grin, wondering if Kelly knew what that would 
mean. Until today I had never thought of Kelly as being sexy, but 
as he stood there in the garage, waiting while I removed the remains 
of the box of goodies, I saw him in a different light. When he was 
older, more self-assured and confident, he'd be a lot like Dylan. 
I placed my hand on his small shoulder, carrying the box under my 
arm, as we walked out of the garage to the house.

I had Kelly go upstairs and get ready for bed and I spent the 
new few minutes packing things away, then stood by the sink, my 
mind going back and forth over what had happened at the farm, 
wondering whether Dylan would, in fact, grow out of it. I hoped not 
but then I had a vested interest. "Heh Dad," Kelly called from 
upstairs, breaking into my thoughts.

"Yeah I'm coming tiger," I shouted back, my reverie 
interrupted. I went into the hall and up the stairs. Kelly was 
standing at the top of the stairs, naked except for his underpants, 
there was a small rounded bump in the V between his slender legs, 
tanned from long summer's days in the sun. He smiled slowly. "You 
done your teeth?" I asked.

Kelly nodded. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Dad?" he 
asked.

I glanced at the boy as I came up to him, then reached out and 
lovingly stroked his back, "Yeah,... I guess so. But no wriggling 
around, okay? It's way past your bedtime, you have to go straight 
to sleep," I said, postponing the long talk that I needed to have 
with him. Kelly nodded. "Where's you pj's?" I asked.

"Do I have to?" he answered, following me into the bedroom. I 
turned back to the boy, seeing a small shy smile forming on his 
face. I shrugged. The smile broadened, flashing perfect white baby-
teeth, a gap on one side that had yet to be replaced. The boy took 
a few running steps and leaped onto the bed, then slid his legs 
under the sheet. In that one simple motion I thought he was 
remarkably like Dylan. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, 
turning off the bedroom lights as I went. The image of Dylan, just 
a few hours earlier running into the bedroom, leaping onto the bed, 
of the things that followed, was paramount in my mind. I lingered 
in the bathroom for as long as I could, then came back into the 
bathroom. Kelly stirred, barely awake, "Dad,... I'm glad you 
love,... Dylan," he murmured sleepily. I pulled back the sheet and 
lowered myself carefully onto the bed next to him. The boy's nearly 
naked body was curled up and very dark against the bottom sheet. 
He looked small and fragile and he turned slightly pressing his 
warm body against mine. I caressed the boy's forehead, brushing 
back his silky hair, trying to imagine what Dylan was doing, then 
gently, ever so lightly I began to run my fingers up and down his 
back and shoulders as he dropped of to sleep.

I lay awake for a long time that night, for several hours my 
thoughts were only of Dylan, wondering, dreaming, thinking. I 
returned the memory of Dylan's beautiful, slender body, the ease 
with which he swam, his lithe young body moving urgently, hungry 
for excitement, his passionate kiss as he got of the car, the 
overpowering feelings of love that I had when we were joined as 
one, of the wonderful sensation I'd experienced inside him. Finally 
I drifted off to sleep.

Kelly woke me up by wriggling. He always does that and it's a 
good reason not to sleep in the same bed as a nearly-seven-year-
old boy. It was just after eight o'clock. For a moment I lay there, 
trying to revisit the last fragments of my dream, putting the 
pieces back together. It had involved Dylan, of course. We'd been 
doing something but I wasn't certain what it had been. He held my 
hand, we were walking, his hand was so small, and warm. He was 
teasing me,... Kelly wriggled again, insistently, squirming. "Go 
'sleep,..." I mumbled. He wriggled again, sticking his sharp little 
elbow into my ribs, "Go 'sleep,... or go play in your room," I said, 
the last vestiges of my dream disappearing, the fragments 
interrupted. 

"It's morning,... time to get up," the boy chirped in a sing-
song voice. 

"It's Sunday, you dodo,..." I sighed, stretching out into the 
cooler part of the bed, and rolling away from the wriggling boy. 
"And stop wriggling around!"

"I'm trying to get comfortable!" he retorted. "... Dad,... do 
you think we'll see Dylan today," he asked

"Huh,... Oh I don't know, maybe," I replied, knowing that any 
chance of continued sleep was gone for good. "Why?"

"I hope so," Kelly said, "'cause he's fun, and I like him".

"We'll see,... I guess", I said with a sigh, wondering, 
hoping, then adding, "I hope so too. Now stop wriggling,... and if 
you stick that elbow in my back one more time, you die."

There was a burst of giggles, then a moment's hesitation, then 
a hard sharp force in my back, right below the shoulder blade. That 
did it and I twisted over, pulling the sheet down, as I grabbed the 
boy and began to tickle him furiously. He giggled hysterically, 
kicked and struggled, squealed in delight as we wrestled. I pinned 
him down, made him promise to behave, then rolled off, only to be 
confronted by another attack from my nearly naked son. We tumbled 
and rolled together, scrambling over each other as we grappled in 
playful combat, until breathless, and pretending defeat I flopped 
onto my back. Kelly straddled me triumphantly, "Kelly Weston, the 
winner," he shrieked, raising his arms high above his head, 
stretching the skin of his chest until his ribs stood out. I grinned 
at the laughing boy sitting astride my hips, our battle temporarily 
suspended.

"My penis is hard like Dylan's was. See!" he announced, 
looking downward. My eyes followed his. The boy's erection was 
unmistakable, the cotton of his underpants stretched tightly over 
the small, but very hard projection between his outstretched legs. 
He giggled, his right arm coming down from above his head, his hand 
reaching, fingers stretched out, touching the taut clothe, the 
slight quiver as his fingertips felt the pleasant warmth 
underneath. I closed my eyes trying to blot out the thrill that I 
felt, the surge of excitement almost as intense as what I'd felt 
for Dylan. Then suddenly unable to bear the contact with his body, 
I lifted forty-eight pounds of boy tossed him onto his back, 
reached down and pulled the sheet upward over my waist. Kelly 
looked at me curiously, lying back on the bed, his fingers gently 
stroking, shamelessly touching his hard penis. "Why does it do 
that?" he asked.

"Huh," I said absently, glad that my own groin was covered, 
knowing that my body had already begun to respond of it's own 
accord.

"Why does my penis get hard,... like Dylan's?" he asked again.

I breathed out, swallowing, willing my arousal to fade, trying 
to clear my mind of the frightening possibility. "Huh,... oh,... 
it's because it feels good. Every boy's penis does that,... gets 
hard. When you get excited, sometimes,... excited because you feel 
good,... then blood rushes into your penis, and makes it stand up."

"It's so hard, but," Kelly observed, his fingers squeezing, 
testing the firmness, "It feels a lot bigger too," he said in awe.

"That's the way it's supposed to be. Like if you filled a 
balloon with water, it'd get bigger wouldn't it, and when it was 
really full it'd be kind of hard when you pushed against it," I 
replied.

Kelly nodded, "Yeah,... I s'pose. What if it breaks, or bursts 
or something but?" he asked.

I laughed, "It's not going to burst. If you leave it alone 
it'll gradually go down."

"Oh,... it feels good but," Kelly admitted, stroking his small 
erection carefully. "Does Dylan's penis feel good when it's big 
like this? Is that why you were rubbing it as well,... when your 
penis was in his bottom?"

I smirked at the boy's uninhibited curiosity "I expect so. 
It's supposed to feel good. And yes, I was rubbing his penis to 
make him feel good."

"It feels better the more I touch it," Kelly volunteered. He 
giggled, his fingers discovering the increased pleasure as they 
enclosed the small hot shaft under the soft cotton of his 
underpants.

"It feels even better if you take your underpants off," I 
grinned, "But that's something that a boy does by himself, or with 
someone that he likes very much."

"Like you and Dylan?" Kelly prompted.

I nodded, "It's called masturbating by the way...." Kelly 
nodded, his fingers sliding up and down over the short raised 
elongation in his underpants that pointed upward to his navel, 
growing slightly smaller as it went. It was perhaps a half-inch 
high, the length of his penis impossible to determine since his 
testicles formed part of the shape. I smiled, fascinated by the 
boy's discovery of his own capacity for pleasure. His little 
fingers moved faster. "It feels good doesn't it?" I added gently.

Kelly barely noticed me, "Huh huh,..." he whispered. His 
fingers tightened, extracting even more delight, stroking on the 
sensitive tip. "Oh!... It's making me feel funny," Kelly muttered. 
I raised my eyebrows and grinned, my son's arms and legs were 
covered with gooseflesh, the small muscles in his legs beginning 
to strain, lifting his groin up to meet his fluttering hand. 
"Can,... can I take my undies off?" he asked uncertainly after a 
few more moments.

I wanted to say that it was 'okay', to sit back on the bed and 
watch, but I shook my head as my heart leaped. "It's okay to do 
that, if you want,... but you have to go into your room to do that, 
okay, Kelly," I said firmly. The boy looked at me, disappointment 
flashing across his face, then pouting, took his hand away 
reluctantly.

Then he shrugged, as if the interruption to his enjoyment was 
of no importance, already forgotten. "You wanna wrestle some more?" 
he asked.

"In a bit," I teased, "You wore me out last time," I added, 
watching the boy carefully. Kelly paused a minute, then lunged, 
springing up from his reclining position and yelping as he went on 
the attach. I caught him in my arms, toppling the writhing, 
giggling boy onto his belly, pressing him down into the pillows and 
then delivering a firm smack to his small bottom. He squealed and 
struggled as I let him. He knelt on the bed, grinning cheekily, 
watching me unchallenged, considering his next point of attack. The 
phone rang.

I shook my head, then reached over past the boy, poised for 
combat, and picked up the phone. The time was a little past nine 
o'clock and I wondered who would call at that time on a Sunday 
morning. I hoped it was Dylan. The voice on the other end was 
familiar and I recognized it quickly. "Hello, it's Diane, Diane 
Brady, Dylan's mom."

"Hi! Good morning!" I answered brightly.

"Who is it Daddy?" Kelly asked.

I shook my head, "Dylan's mom," I replied, then added, "I've 
got a pesky seven-year-old boy here who want's to know who I'm 
talking to."

Diane answered, "No worse than a twelve-year-old boy I'm sure. 
I just wanted to call and thank you for taking Dylan with you 
yesterday. He had a great time."

Kelly climbed up next to me, trying to listen to the 
conversation but I pushed him away playfully and held him down with 
one hand, easily overcoming his ineffectual struggles. "No 
problem,... we had a great time too. He's a lot of fun.... We 
enjoyed having him, really we did."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then Diane's 
voice again, less confident this time, "I,... I'm afraid my son has 
a bad case of puppy love,..." she said quietly.

"Huh?" I said uncertainly, nervously, waiting for the woman 
on the other end of the line to respond.

"He likes you a great deal, I guess you could call the way he 
feels about you 'puppy love'. He's talked about you non-stop. We 
had a long talk last night when he got home...." She paused, waiting 
for my acknowledgment. I wondered what Dylan had told her. I 
hesitated to answer. "He's fond of you,... very fond of you," she 
admitted slowly. "You're,... good for him," she added, then after 
another pause, "I'm glad he's,... friends,...with you."

"Well,... I like Dylan too," I said at last. "He's an easy boy 
to be friends with," I added noncommittally.

The silence seemed endless before Diane came back, "I,... I've 
always known that Dylan was,... different,... I think you know,... 
what I mean," she said hesitantly, her voice strained. Silence 
again. 

"I,... think so," I answered.

"I don't want him to grow up,... like,... some men,... like 
that. You're good for him,... I trust you Alex,... I'm not sure I 
could trust Dylan with another man,... or trust anyone else with 
Dylan."

"Huh huh," I said weakly, barely breathing, my face flushing 
as a sudden hot wave of guilt spilled over me.

"Dylan,... told me what happened at the farm," Diane said 
awkwardly, her voice trembling nervously.

"Oh!" I gasped in sudden fear.

"I,... he told me everything you understand,... I'm not 
angry,... sooner or later that would have happened, anyway. It was 
just a matter of time, I wish he was older, but.... I'm glad it was 
you,... he was safe,... and from what he said,... I think it was 
the right thing,... for him,... and you too." Her voice trailed 
off.

"I love Dylan," I said honestly, "I love him a great deal."

"Yes, yes I know that. My son is the same way. I,... I guess 
that's why I'm glad. I know you'll be,... gentle with him too. It's 
just that,... well I don't want him acting like Paul, I told you 
about him, he's in my department,... It isn't that he's gay, but 
he's with a different one every week, and he flaunts it."

I breathed out, trying to clear my head, fogged with 
disbelief, "Dylan is very special to me, Diane. This isn't 
something that goes away quickly,... I want Dylan to know what it's 
like,... to,... have someone he can trust." I wanted to say 'love' 
but I hesitated.

"Yes,... I know that. From the way Dylan was talking, he's met 
the right person to be,... friends with..... I just wanted you to 
know that it's okay,... that I, well I understand it, and,... well 
what happens between the two of you is your business."

"I don't know what to say, Diane," I said quietly.

"Anyway, Dylan's on his way over to your house. He should be 
there soon I guess. He was worried about what you'd think,... about 
me finding out.... Alex,... he needs you, more than ever now," she 
finished. I could hear the sobbing start in the second or two as 
she put the phone down.

 "What was that all about? What did Dylan's mom want?" Kelly 
asked curiously.

"Huh?" I said, engrossed in my own thoughts, still struggling 
in utter disbelief at what had transpired. "Huh? Oh,... Dylan's on 
his way over here. She was calling to say that's she's glad Dylan 
is our friend."

"Does she know about you and Dylan making babies?" he asked 
cheekily, his voice teasing gently.

I looked up, "You little bugger, you promised that was a 
secret."

Kelly smirked, "I haven't told anyone,... yet!"

"You better not either, young man," I smiled. "Besides his mom 
knows anyway. That's what she called about, to say it was okay," I 
answered happily.

"For you and Dylan to make babies?" Kelly persisted.

I laughed, tossing the pillows at my son so that he to scramble 
away to avoid getting hit, "It's not making babies. That takes a 
boy and a girl, not two boys, you know that!"

"Yeah, I know that, but,... well what do you call it? What you 
and Dylan do?" my son asked.

The doorbell rang downstairs, interrupting my answer to his 
question and I jumped up, grabbing my dressing gown. I turned and 
grinned at Kelly, "Having fun!" I called back as I ran down the 
stairs and into the front hall. I saw Dylan standing outside the 
back door. He was wearing denim shorts a long-sleeved shirt, does 
the boy ever wear anything else? He was grinning and he waved as 
he saw me in my underpants, the dressing down wide open at the 
front. I opened the door, resisting the impulse to sweep Dylan into 
my arms, to kiss him, to carry him upstairs into my bedroom and do 
incredibly wonderful things to his delicious young body. I opened 
the door and as he passed between me and the door frame I caught 
the scent of his freshly shampooed hair. Standing there in the 
morning light, slender, tanned, radiating life, grinning cheekily, 
he was, I decided, the most wonderful, perfect person in the world. 
"Hi! I wasn't sure if I should use the back door," he said as if 
to explain his presence in my house.

"Hi yourself!" I replied.

"I see you're up and dressed", he teased, grinning wickedly.

"Your mom just called," I said then waited, enjoying my game 
with the marvellous boy standing only a foot away.

"Oh?.... What did she want?" The boy asked uncertainly.

"We had a long talk about you," I replied honestly

The boy hesitated, his uncertainty building, "What did she 
say?"

I stepped closer to Dylan and he looked up, his pale-blue eyes 
locked on mine, "Oh, this and that...."

"Come on, tell me," he insisted, his eyes sparkling. I feasted 
my eyes on the boy, captivated by the little cleft above his upper 
lip, the soft cheek, so absolutely smooth, a tiny dimple at the 
corner of his mouth, the long thin eyebrows, so blond and pale that 
they were barely distinguishable against the brown skin of his 
temple. But it was the pure white of his eyes surrounding the pale 
sky-blue, the intense pupils, as he looked expectantly into my 
eyes, that held my interest the most. His golden-blond hair was 
brushed but it had fallen forward over his forehead, his ears were 
small and delicately sculptured. His lips were full, dark, slightly 
pursed as he breathed through his mouth. "Tell me," he repeated.

It was almost impossible not to laugh, to pull him towards me, 
to kiss him, to tell him again and again that I loved him, but Kelly 
interrupted. He leaned forward over the stair rail, his voice high-
pitched, giggling in a sing-song. "Dylan and Daddy are in love, 
Dylan and Daddy are in love... Hi Dylan!"

Dylan grinned, "Hi Kelly", he called out good naturedly to the 
almost naked boy on the stairs. He turned back to me, smiling, "You 
know I told her what happened don't you. You're not angry are you?" 
I smiled, shaking my head at the beautiful boy. "When I got home, 
I think we must have talked for hours. I told her we had sex and 
she didn't mind,... well kind of, she said she wished I was 
older,... but she wasn't angry that you and I did it." I nodded, 
watching the boy's eyes, in their own way still innocent, despite 
what had happened the day before. "You're not angry, are you?" he 
asked again.

"I'm not angry but I'm starving," I finally laughed unable to 
hold back. I pulled Dylan to me, felt the boy's lithe body press 
urgently forward, his arms tighten around my waist as my hands slid 
up and down his slender back, massaging the firm muscles, the 
ripples of his ribs as they joined to his spine. "I missed you last 
night," I whispered in his ear.

"I know, me too,... I tried to jerk off thinking about you,... 
it didn't help much," the boy whispered back.

"What are you guys doing?" Kelly interrupted. "You're not 
gonna make babies again, are you?" he added teasingly, "'cause if 
you are I'm goin' upstairs and watch cartoons".

Dylan stifled a laugh and I pulled away from the kiss we both 
knew was about happened, "Nothing. You can watch cartoons if you 
want, Kelly. I'm making waffles for breakfast," I announced. "You 
hungry, kiddo?" I asked Dylan.

The boy shrugged, "I ate Cheerios already. Yeah, okay."

"You can help if you want, or go up and watch TV with Kelly, 
take your pick," I said moving a little further back and trying to 
resist the temptation to take Dylan back into my arms and ravish 
him on the spot, knowing that his soft brown boy-flesh would taste 
a whole lot better that waffles with real maple syrup.

"I'll help you, okay", he said at once, then his voice dropped 
conspiratorially, "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, Dylan Brady", I said quietly. 

Dylan followed me into the kitchen and Kelly went back up the 
stairs. He didn't help much, in fact he did his utmost to distract 
me, leaning back against the sink, looking happy and content, 
almost smug, aware that I followed his every movement, his every 
word. He talked aimlessly about his bike that he'd ridden on to 
come to my house, about how the chain was loose, but he wasn't sure 
how to tighten it properly, because every time it came loose. I 
told him I'd look at it later on, after breakfast, maybe the threads 
had been stripped.

I piled the three waffles, syrup, and three glasses of milk 
onto a tray and headed out of the kitchen, Dylan following right 
behind, still chattering incessantly. I went up to the bedroom, 
depositing the tray on the side table. Kelly was stretched out, 
lying on his belly on the floor in front of the television, still 
dressed only in his underpants, his legs splayed wide apart, the 
small bulge of his tiny testicles visible between them. I dropped 
my dressing gown on the floor and sat back on the bed. Dylan stood 
near the bedroom door, looking shyly first at me, then at Kelly, 
both naked except for our underpants.

"You wanna eat on the bed here with me,... or with Kelly, on 
the floor?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be. Dylan took 
a step closer, his eyes riveted on my briefs, knowing what the 
prominent bulge was. He could feel his own penis, swelling 
instantly, protruding outwards into the confinement of his shorts. 
"If you want, you can take off your clothes, Dylan," I said. I 
pretended to ignore the boy, lifting the waffles onto the plates 
and pouring a generous amount of syrup over each one, but I followed 
Dylan's every move. He hesitated for a moment, then overcoming any 
inhibition he had, kicked off his Nike Airs and tugged his socks 
off. He unfastened his shirt buttons and pulled his arms free, 
dropping the shirt on the floor, then unfastened his belt, opened 
his zipper and slid out of his shorts. He still wore'little-boy' 
underpants, the white-cotton kind made by Jockey, with the high 
sides and the flap in front. Kelly swivelled around and grinned as 
he saw the older boy dressed only in his underpants, coming easily 
to his feet and walking over to pick up his plate and glass of milk. 
Dylan stood by the other side of the bed, lifted back the sheet, 
and smiled at Kelly. "Dylan's penis is hard again, Daddy?" my son 
observed, "You can see it sticking out in his undies."

I laughed, "Like I said, that happens a lot to Dylan,... and 
you too as you get older. It's supposed to do that." Dylan blushed 
slightly and sat down on the bed, sliding his legs under the sheet 
and pulling it up so that his erection was covered. Except for a 
small rise between the boy's legs, there was no sign of it under 
the sheets.

"You said it gets hard like that because he's happy, and 
excited, and he feels good,... but, well,... why does he feel like 
that now?" Kelly asked, then sipped his milk as he looked at the 
two of us in the bed.

"Because he's in bed with me without any clothes on,... well 
almost with no clothes,... and he likes it. So do I," I added 
patiently.

Kelly giggled, "Is your penis sticking out too Daddy?" he 
asked teasingly.

I turned and grinned at Dylan, then looked back at my son, 
"Huh huh, I like being naked with Dylan," I answered honestly.

Kelly giggled again as he turned back to the TV, "But he's 
still got his undies on!" he contradicted, then added as an after 
thought in his sing-song teasing voice, "Daddy and Dylan are in 
love".

I was aware of a movement in the bed next to me, the boy 
lifting his legs up under the sheet, then pushing them back down. 
Dylan smirked at me knowingly, brought his left hand out from under 
the sheets, holding a finger to his lips for an instant, then taking 
it away. As Kelly settled back down on the floor in front of the 
television, carefully so as not to spill his milk, Dylan reached 
for my right hand, the one nearest to him, and drew it towards him, 
downwards under the sheet. My finger tips brushed against the soft 
satiny skin of his belly, then an inch or two further, I touched 
the bare flesh of boy's small but very hot cock. It was very hard 
and seemed to be throbbing with a life of it's own. Dylan sighed 
as he breathed out slowly, his blue eyes sparkling with boyish 
mischief as he pulled his other hand out from under the sheet, 
clutching his underpants. He dropped them on the floor casually. 
"Now you," he whispered.

I grinned back at him and nodded, lifting my buttocks up 
quickly pulling my briefs off. I sat up, straightening my legs, 
noticing the tent in the sheet that covered my groin. Dylan stifled 
a giggle as soon as he noticed. A moment later I felt his small 
warm hand slip over my thigh and enclose my cock, squeezing firmly, 
playfully, his fingers barely meeting his thumb when he tightened 
his grip. "He's really huge," Dylan whispered. "I don't believe you 
got him inside me yesterday,... twice,... do you?"

"What are you guys whispering'bout?" Kelly demanded.

"Nothing?" Dylan said, pulling his hand back from my cock 
slowly. "Is the waffle any good?" he added.

"Hummm,.... yeah," Kelly replied between bites. "It tastes 
great."

"Of course," I said, "I made it!" I passed a plate and a glass 
of milk to Dylan and took one for myself. It was very difficult to 
believe that the impossible had happened, that I was sitting naked 
in bed with a very beautiful twelve-year-old boy, with the consent 
of his mother.

"Heh, this is good!" Dylan announced after his first bite, 
"It's better than Frisch's, or anything." I laughed, watching Dylan 
chew, engaged by the boy's infectious grin, his perfect white 
teeth, the shine of his golden-blond hair. He slurped his milk 
noisily, leaving a white film on his lips. "You gonna eat your's 
or what?" he teased.

I laughed, "No, I think I'll let you eat it,... then I'll eat 
you! I bet you taste even better."

Dylan chortled, brushing the hair back from his forehead and 
out of his eyes as he ate. He looked up at me between bites, "I 
taste pretty good." I took a bite of my waffle, relishing the sweet 
syrup, still watching the boy eat and drink, unable to take my eyes 
away. He finished first and reached over me to place his empty plate 
and glass back on the table. I felt the firm warmth of his lean 
body press against mine, the 'electric' shock as his bare skin 
touched mine, then he turned back settling down next to me to watch 
cartoons.

Almost as soon as Kelly finished his breakfast he came to his 
feet, leaving his plate and glass on the floor, he looked at the 
two of us lying side by side in the bed and shrugged in disinterest. 
"I'm gonna play with my train set,... in my room," he announced. 
"You wanna come Dylan?"

"Later on, maybe. When your Dad's in the shower, okay," the 
boy volunteered.

Kelly ambled out of my bedroom room and into his own. Dylan 
smiled shyly, "Well,...?" he said, his voice suddenly turning husky 
again. "What do you want to do,... now?" he asked, his eyes 
flickering with growing excitement.

I smiled back at him, "I want to eat you all up," I said 
quietly.

"All of me? Everything?"

"Huh, huh,...all of you," I said. "Everything!"

"Everything?...Even my dick?" Dylan asked huskily.

"'specially your dick," I whispered, gently placing my hand 
on the boy's soft cheek. I caressed the smooth skin lovingly with 
my fingertips, wondering how long before he would have before he 
began to shave, moving my hand back towards his small ear, stroking 
the delicate lobe, then under, sinking my fingers in the silky 
hair, like soft down. Dylan quivered under my touch, his body 
trembling noticeably as his arousal intensified.

"How do you feel? Does it still feel sore inside?" I asked 
gently, remembering what I'd done to the boy the previous day.

"Okay,...There was blood on my underpants this morning, but" 
Dylan said. "Just a little bit but, like a smear, I think it was 
from yesterday. It feels sort of sore in my belly, and my hole 
itches a bit. I don't mind if you wanna do it now, except for Kelly 
might come in."

I nodded, slowly drawing the boy's head forward. Instinctively 
his tongue came forward and licked his lips, his eyes closed, lips 
pursed, he took a quick breath. As we kissed his arms settled around 
me and I held him tightly. The kiss he had given in the car outside 
his house the previous night was only a promissory note. It was 
long and hot and very very wet. Still kissing, I pulled Dylan over 
on top of me, our bodies coming together, his light weight barely 
noticeable. We were breathless, and speechless when that kiss 
ended. The kiss had concentrated all of our pent-up feelings, the 
loneliness we'd both experienced while we were apart, it was the 
most passionate kiss I have ever known. As soon as we parted Dylan 
flicked his head and smirked cheekily, "I want to eat you first,... 
okay?"

He didn't give me the opportunity to answer because he 
wriggled downward in the bed, sliding under the sheets, until his 
head rested on my belly. I felt his small fingers touch against my 
balls, fondling the soft skin, playfully rolling them around, then 
the hot moistness of his lips as his lips kissed the swollen head 
if my cock. The moistness quickly became wet and very very soft, 
like a band sliding down my cock as he took it into his mouth. His 
head rocked gently, moving my cock back and forth, his fingers 
massaging my balls with increasing pressure. For a moment he pulled 
his mouth away, breathing deeply, "Okay?" he asked shyly, his voice 
betraying his doubt, of his ability to satisfy me.

"You feel wonderful, Dylan," I sighed, reaching down with both 
hands to hold his silky head.

"Yeah? It tastes a bit salty,...but I like it," he said, 
shifting slightly, this time his tongue touching, then licking, 
then sucking on my balls, his hand partially enclosing the shaft 
of my cock, moving rhythmically up and down the entire length. He 
alternated between my cock and balls, long wonderful minutes, 
gradually getting faster and he overcame his own reluctance and 
accepted my cock deeper and deeper into his mouth. Then, after I 
could barely stand it any longer he pulled back, taking the head 
of my cock, settling his teeth into the ridge behind the helmet-
head, and swirling his tongue over and around it, pressing into the 
slit as far as he could go. He began to use his hand on my cock as 
well, vibrating his hand, then his forearm, faster and faster until 
I felt my orgasm build up inside me.

I gasped, groaned, then gasped again, knowing that the boy 
needed to make his own decision. "It's coming, it's coming,... Ohhh 
Yeahhhh," I gasped. Dylan's response was to sink his mouth down, 
bobbing his head up and down as fast as he could, jerking the sheet 
downward to expose his golden-blond head moving as rapidly as he 
could. I shuddered, arching my back, clutching Dylan's head as 
tightly as I could as I felt my juice explode out into the boy. He 
was ready and waiting for it. As he tasted the first salty spurt 
he swallowed, pushing down even harder onto my cock, forcing it all 
the way to the back of his mouth and part of the way into his 
throat. My ejaculation seemed to last for ever, almost filling the 
boy, but in reality little more than a teaspoon or two. 

Dylan waited until I was finished, until the last dying spasm, 
until my throbbing cock began to soften, before he finally pulled 
away and wriggled back up to lie beside me, his small blond head 
lying safely on my chest, cuddled closely to me with my arm wrapped 
protectively around his shoulders. Like me, the boy was breathless, 
but his eyes were happy and his cheeky smile was victorious. "You 
like that?" he teased as his breathing quickened and his heart 
slowed.

"Yeahhh! You're incredible Dylan," I said effusively. "That 
was truly 'awesome'!" He smiled. his pink small tongue licking at 
his lips. "So,... what do you think of the taste huh?" I asked.

"'s okay, it's salty,... it sure is thick but,... It seemed 
like a lot came out,... it tastes a bit like clam chowder,... 
without the clams but," he giggled playfully, moving his tongue 
around as he savored the residual after taste.

"What about the potatoes?" I teased.

Dylan giggled, "Hmmmm,... no I don't think so," he said. "Do 
you think I'll have a lot when I'm older?"

"Probably," I said, hoping that day would never come.

"The worst part is I got hairs in my mouth. Yuk," Dylan 
complained. "I don't mind your come, it's okay,... but hairs are 
yucky."

I laughed, "Sorry about that. I'm afraid there's not much we 
can do about it though."

Dylan giggled, his fingers descending down my belly, back to 
my cock, gently tracing the wet, sticky shaft, then he twisted his 
head back and looked up at me, "Yes there is! You could shave him," 
he said playfully.

I laughed, "That's not a bad idea, except I'd have to do it 
every day."

"Okay," Dylan teased, "If you do, then I'll suck him every 
day, okay?"

I looked at Dylan and he grinned, "What about when you start 
school in a few weeks?"

"I'll come after school," he said cheekily, "'course if all 
you wanna do is fuck me, well, I guess it's not a big problem then." 
He squeezed my limp penis gently but firmly, then increased the 
stakes, "I dare you!" he grinned, then raised the ante yet again, 
"I double dare you!"

I began to laugh, pulled Dylan to me, hugged him tightly and 
kissed him as hard as I could. I tasted my semen inside the boy's 
mouth, no longer as salty, but the lingering strange taste still 
on his tongue. "Okay I guess, but when you're here, you have to do 
it,... beginning right now."

"Huh? Me?... I don't have any hair there yet!" he smirked.

"That's not what I mean. You do the shaving," I said.

"Oh!... Now?" he asked uncertainly.

"Huh huh! Well unless you want me to do you now?" I laughed. 
"Come on you're going to have to learn how to shave sooner or later 
anyway. You can have a shower with me, and do it then," I added 
swinging my legs out of the bed. I pulled Dylan after me, leading 
the giggling boy towards the bathroom door.

The memory of his first shower with me at the farm was very 
strong, but he hesitated at the door, "But,... well I promised 
Kelly I'd play with him while you were showering. He wants to show 
me his train set," Dylan said.

I grinned and turned around. It was a nice thing for him to 
have said. "I don't think Kelly will mind that much, but let's go 
see," I said, leading the way back out through the bedroom and into 
my son's bedroom. Kelly was still in his underpants, sitting cross-
legged in front of the train set, the control unit in his lap, 
switching the trains back and forth as they zipped around the 
track.

He was engrossed in his game, making engine sounds as the 
steam locomotive backed up into the siding. I knocked lightly on 
the door and looked up almost immediately, realizing our presence, 
and he grinned, "Hi!" he said. "Have you guys finished making 
babies already?" he teased. "You were a lot faster than last time."

Dylan blushed slightly, swivelling to me, then seeing me 
smile, relaxed. "We weren't making babies, Kelly. We were,...", he 
glanced back at me, "Well boys can't do that,... make babies,... 
it's not what it's called anyway."

Kelly looked up pouting, "So what is it called? What you two 
do together," he asked.

"I,... well,... I know one word for it,... but it's dirty," 
he answered awkwardly. I stifled a laugh as Dylan looked at me 
seriously. I shrugged, sooner or later Kelly would hear the word 
anyway. "It's called,... 'fucking'," Dylan said expertly.

"There are other words for it Kelly, but that's one of them. 
Dylan's right, it is a dirty word. It's not a word that you should 
use with anyone else, okay? If I hear you saying it, except to me 
or Dylan, you die tiger," I said, pretending seriousness.

My son nodded, his curiosity unquenchable, "So what did you 
do then?" he asked looking up at the two of us, both naked, Dylan 
standing slightly in front and to one side of me, his penis no 
longer fully erect, but in the half-aroused stage, when instead of 
pointing upward, it was still firm enough to point outwards and 
downwards. My own penis was completely satisfied, hanging loose and 
limp between my legs, still glistening slightly, but noticeably wet 
with Dylan's saliva and my own semen.

I laughed, playfully hugging Dylan to me, "We had fun,... and 
Dylan had breakfast," I replied.

Dylan walked over towards Kelly, oblivious to his nakedness, 
then squatted down next to my son. "This is a 'cool' train set. 
Have you had it long?"

Kelly smiled at the older boy, "I got it for Christmas, didn't 
I Daddy", then he added, "You wanna play with it Dylan?"

"Dylan and I are going to take a shower together, okay. I know 
he promised,... but do you mind?" I asked. Kelly shook his head, 
then not ignoring us, but totally engrossed in his game, continued 
to play as if we weren't there. "Come on Dylan," I said, "Kelly, I 
want you to get dressed." The boy nodded absently as Dylan came to 
his feet and followed me back out of the bedroom and into the 
bathroom.

I turned the shower on and sat down on the toilet. Dylan stood 
before me, only a foot away at most, his belly about at the same 
level as my eyes, his tiny intruded navel almost, but not quite 
half-covered by a little fold of brown skin. His penis had relaxed 
even further, a small soft appendage hanging downward, lifted 
outward slightly by the rounded hemisphere of his testicles. I 
leaned forward, placing my arms around the boy's back and with the 
tip of my tongue touched his navel, probing into the small cavity 
and flicking playfully. Dylan giggled and pulled away, "That 
tickles," he admonished.

"It's supposed to," I laughed, then added, "I haven't had my 
breakfast,...yet."

Dylan took a step forward, "Okay,... but no tickling. I have 
to go pee too and I'll do it all over you if you tickle me."

"Okay, I'll behave." I placed my hands back on Dylan's hips, 
tempted by the small, but extremely tasty morsel that he presented 
to me. Instead I twisted the boy around so that he faced away from 
me, keeping my hands at the same level so that I now cupped the 
full roundness of his small cheeks. The skin was paler there than 
anywhere else on his body, delicate and smooth. Gently I prised the 
two halves apart, noticing the boy's involuntary shiver, wondering 
immediately whether he felt more pain there than he let on. I looked 
into his crack, the fine dividing line running from his spine, all 
the way to the swelling of his scrotum, broken only by his small 
anus. I was not sure what I should have expected, perhaps I thought 
he would have returned to his virgin state, his hole small and 
puckered, the lips flaring slightly before the wrinkly tissue 
vanished inside him. I expected his anus to be a little darker but 
it wasn't. Around the puffed out rim there was a purplish ring, 
between a half and three-quarters of an inch thick. I touched the 
bud of the boy's anus very gently barely touching the sensitive 
tissue. He winced unmistakably. "Sorry, it hurts doesn't it?" I 
asked.

"Yeah! A bit sore," he breathed out, "It hurts more when I try 
to poop," he added.

"Dylan, it's a bit bruised and it's kind of swollen, I'm 
sorry," I said.

"It's okay."

"No it's not. Dylan I want to look inside to see if there's 
more damage?" I said, "I'll try to be careful. It might hurt a bit." 
The boy nodded. I wasn't even sure I knew what to look for, but 
carefully I placed my fingers against the rim of the boy's opening 
and pressed back. The hole was small and very tight but there was 
a thin reddish line that led back down. It was at the place closest 
to his scrotum, the place where the pressure had been the greatest, 
where his young body, unable to accommodate the cock that had 
demanded entry, taken possession of his slender body, had finally 
broken. The fissure wasn't deep but it obviously painful for Dylan. 
I swallowed guiltily, the shame returning with a vengeance. 
"There's a little split inside. I think that's what hurts," I said.

"It's hurts a fair bit when I squeeze on it," Dylan 
volunteered.

"I guess it would," I said, "I think there's something in the 
vanity cupboard that'd help," I added, pressing on Dylan's buttocks 
gently so that he stepped away. I stood up and went to the vanity, 
opened the cupboard and found some analgesic ointment for internal 
use. Dylan came over as I unscrewed the cap, and leaned forward 
over the vanity, placing his hips against the curved edge of the 
marble, his hands on the top to take his weight. I dropped to my 
knees, then reached forward, carefully parting the boy's small 
cheeks again. I squeezed a big fat gob out and smeared it into the 
boy's hole. He sighed as the cool ointment oozed into his aching 
body. "It'll feel better in a few minutes, Dylan," I said, gently 
rotating my finger, the tip intruding slightly into the boy's moist 
dank heat. "We'll put some more in there later on."

"It feels better already," Dylan smiled as I stood up and he 
straightened.

I picked up the razor on the vanity, ejected the old blade and 
fitted a new cartridge. I placed my hands on his shoulders, guiding 
the boy forward and into the shower. My desire had cooled somewhat 
after I'd seen the damage I'd done to the boy's tender body. At 
first I'd entertained thoughts of 'fucking' the boy there in the 
shower, but not now. Dylan picked up the soap in his small hand, 
pushed me playfully back under the water, and began to soap. He 
began with my chest and belly, then turned me around and washed my 
back and legs. His supple fingers, slippery with soap, squirmed and 
tickled, exploring everywhere, even pushing a wriggling little 
finger up into my anus as far as he dared, giggling as I sighed. 
Then he turned me around and went to work on my groin, kneeling 
between my feet, looking up at me with a greedy knowing smirk as 
he playfully tugged on my pubic hair making a rich foamy lather 
over my cock and balls. His gentle, but insistent kneading, made 
my penis spring to life, hardening quickly until it was sticking 
outward pointed towards him, only a few short inches from his 
mouth. Silently I willed the boy to take it back into his mouth, 
flexing my internal muscles and making it jerk.

Dylan giggled, slapping it playfully with his hand, "You've 
gotta behave now. You're too soapy to suck right now, okay". He 
smirked as he looked up at me, "Okay he's nice and soapy now. So, 
what do I do?" he asked.

I grinned down at the boy, flexing my cock rapidly, hungrily, 
trying to tempt the boy. Dylan shook his head emphatically, "When 
I done, okay. But you promised,... no more hairs!"

I laughed, "Okay kiddo, you win. You do this very carefully." 
The boy grinned teasingly, raising his eyebrows. "Here," I said, 
passing the razor to him. He took it inexpertly, holding it like a 
pencil. "Now, pull it very carefully across, don't push at it." 
Dylan nodded, making his first awkward stroke, beginning just below 
my navel and carefully moving down to the side of my penis. There 
was two-inch swathe of skin revealed under the soap foam. I didn't 
see any hair and neither did Dylan. He looked up at me and grinned 
as stray water trickled over his forehead, beaded, and dribbled 
onto his shoulders.

"Cool," he observed. Then he lifted the razor and began on the 
other side. "This is awesome," he added as more skin was revealed. 
Dylan became more confident, making shorter strokes, working in 
towards my now throbbing cock, each increasingly deft stroke taking 
away soap. After a few more I reached down and took the razor away 
from him. He pouted, pretending to be a spoiled brat with a playful 
whine, as I washed the collection of dark, curly hair away from the 
blade before passing it back to him. He grinned in absolute 
delight, pulling my testicles down and getting the razor into the 
furrow between my legs, then carefully around the scrotum, then 
back up over my penis. I grinned down at the boy, intent on his 
work, absorbed totally by his position of control, in his own way 
making us equals. He continued, going back over places that he'd 
already visited, once, twice, even three times, getting every last 
strand, leaving only perfectly smooth hairless skin in his path, 
until only a few smears of soap were left. He was finished and he 
came back to his feet, pushing his wet darkened hair back and he 
came to his tip-toes, leaning forward and kissing me passionately, 
hot, wet and very eagerly. He pushed his flat brown belly into my 
still rigid cock, grinding his hips vigorously and working his own 
now-erect cock against my thigh. "Well?..." he teased, the husky 
note suddenly appearing in his strained voice, then added after a 
long pause, ".... You wanna do it?"

I shook my head, knowing how sore the boy must feel, but 
fascinated by his desire. Just then Kelly walked into the bathroom, 
looked at us, then smirked knowingly. "Heh Dad, Mom's on the 
phone," he said. "What are you guys doing now?" he asked. "Heh, 
Dylan's penis is standing up again, Daddy," he observed 
shamelessly, oblivious to the fact that he too was standing there 
before us, his naked body concealed by only his underpants.

"Shit!", I laughed, "Of all the dumb times to call," I said, 
stepping back from Dylan and out of the shower. "I'll be right 
back", I added as I quickly towelled myself dry. Dylan followed me 
out of the shower, his little stiff penis bobbing, slapping against 
the gentle curve of his lower belly, his immature testicles hanging 
loosely below in the delicate folds of his tiny scrotum. He picked 
up a towel and began to dry himself with quick energetic movements 
as he worked the towel over his narrow back and down his slender 
brown legs. 

Almost as soon as Dylan straightened up, Kelly smirked, 
pointing between my legs, "You look just like Dylan,... and 
me,...you look like a little boy, Daddy."

Dylan started to laugh as he looked at my freshly shaved cock, 
"He's cute like that, isn't he. You're right Kelly, he looks just 
like us. Only his dick is a whole lot bigger and he can 'come' and 
neither of us can yet."

Kelly and I both laughed and the two boys followed me out of 
the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I picked up the telephone 
and the two boys leaped onto the bed, wrestling playfully. I tried 
to concentrate on my wife's long-distance phone call but the boys 
were an impossible distraction, giggling, squealing, tumbling over 
each other like two little puppies.

"...Look, I can't get back this week. I still have a lot of 
work to do here.... Max is thinking of stepping down as 
President....", she said. I caught most of her words but I turned 
to the boys hushing then with my finger as I tried to listen to 
what she was saying. Dylan had Kelly pinned on his back and was 
tickling him under the ribs furiously. Kelly let out a loud yelp 
and finally pushed the older boy back, then scrambled to his feet, 
panting with pretended anger. "... I'm not even sure about next 
week.... Max is talking about a month,..."

Kelly yelped again, struggling valiantly but still easily 
overpowered by Dylan. The two boys writhed around on the bed, bare 
buttocks, arms and legs entwined, fingers digging furiously at each 
other's slender chests. I looked again, surprised. Somehow Kelly's 
underpants had come off. Like Dylan, the younger boy was erect. 
Kelly's penis was perhaps just a half-inch shorter than Dylan's, 
who was five years older, but it was not a lot smaller, since it 
was about as thick as Dylan's penis. I dragged my attention back 
to the telephone but continued to watch the boys, entranced by 
their beautiful naked bodies, twisting and turning noisily on the 
bed, each boy now grabbing for the other's exposed genitals. ".... 
I'm not sure about,.... call me next week,....I have to fly,... 
how's Kelly?"

"He's fine, he's wrestling on the bed with Dylan right now. 
Do you want to speak to him?" I said loudly, finally giving Dylan 
a playful slap on his bare buttocks. For a few moments both he and 
Kelly were quiet. I wondered what my wife would have said if she 
knew that the three of us were stark-naked together on the bed and 
her nearly-seven-year-old son was engaging in his first 'cock-
fight'.

"I'm flying out to Boston again in an hour, I still have to 
pack. Look I have to go, tell Kelly I love him. Bye!" she finished.

"What did Mom want?" Kelly asked, looking at Dylan 
suspiciously as he grinned first at me, then at Kelly, his body 
tensing, his right hand hovering protectively near his groin, ready 
to lunge back to the tickling, grabbing, squeezing attack.

I put the phone down. "I'm not sure. I think she'll be gone 
for a month still, at least that's what it sounded like." I grinned 
at the two boys, their bare brown bodies exposed, small hard 
penises sticking straight up in the air, both boy's testicles 
forming taut wrinkled little knots.

"Let's get Daddy, Dylan," Kelly squealed, turning quickly back 
to me. I leaped to my feet and Dylan hurtled against me, lifting 
the boy up and twisting him away before tossing him back onto the 
bed. I followed through, slapping his buttocks with loud, playful 
slaps, giving his little penis a quick tug downward. It snapped 
back against his belly as he jerked away, his hand flying down to 
cover the exposed part. Kelly came into the attack bravely, but I 
grabbed him around the waist and flopped him onto his back. He 
struggled, shrieking at the top of his lings, begging Dylan to help 
him. Dylan was laughing so hard that he could barely save himself. 
I forced my son's hands back over his head, holding them both with 
one hand, covering his flailing legs with one of mine, then 
teasingly walking my fingers down his heaving chest, across his 
soft belly and onto his hard penis, "Oh! Look, and what do we have 
here,... It's a PENIS," I laughed.

"Daddy,... No!,... You're going to make me pee," the boy 
giggled as my fingers squeezed the tiny, but very sensitive tip, 
teasing it by rubbing it around and around against the smooth skin 
of his lower belly. He wriggled, squirmed and jerked, enjoying 
every precious moment of my hand on his cock, until finally, unable 
to resist the delicious sensations, sighed and relaxed back onto 
the bed. The smile on his small face was a study in absolute bliss 
and it frightened the hell out of me. My own cock was rigid, so 
hard that it was throbbing, pulsing in time to the pounding in my 
ears. I glanced at Dylan, he was sitting back on the pillows, 
watching. I swallowed, and pulled away, aware than Kelly's eyes 
followed me hungrily, demandingly, insistently. My hand was 
shaking, my body seemed to be trembling as I came to my feet 
guiltily looking down at the small naked boy lying stretched out 
on the bed, his eyes wanting me, penetrating into the depravity of 
my mind. I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion, to deny 
the urgent desire to return to the boy's side, to finish what I had 
started, but my own inhibitions were too strong.

"You guys better get dressed," I mumbled self-consciously, 
aware that both boys saw my hard penis, knowing that I was every 
bit as excited as they were. I went over to the dresser, opened the 
top drawer and extracted a pair of briefs, awkwardly pulling them 
on, feeling relief as my cock disappeared from their sight. I 
turned back, Dylan and Kelly glanced at each other, sharing a look 
of despair, of excitement and desire suddenly, irrevocably crushed. 
Dylan came easily to his feet and bent down to pick up his clothes 
as Kelly crawled to the end of bed and slowly came to his feet.

The silence was overwhelming as the boys and I shared our 
culpability. Kelly lingered as he retrieved his underpants, pulling 
them on slowly, Dylan sliding into his clothes as fast as he had 
slid out of them. "What are we going to do today?" Dylan asked 
changing the subject suddenly.

I looked up from fastening my belt, "Huh? Oh! I,... I haven't 
thought about it. What do you guys what to do?" I asked.

"Daddy, you promised we could go see the new exhibit at the 
zoo today!" Kelly piped in as he finally stood up, his boy-genitals 
now safely concealed in his underpants.

"I guess. What do you want to Dylan?" I asked.

Dylan grinned, "The zoo would be great."

Kelly grinned and ran out of the room to get his clothes, his 
rampart sexual urge temporarily suspended. Dylan watched him go, 
then turned back, "He's sexy!" he observed quietly.


Chapter 8.

I carried the tray downstairs, preceded by Dylan who ran ahead 
with Kelly. The two boys were laughing and shouting, as they took 
the stairs two at a time. Then from about halfway up the first 
flight, Dylan leaped the rest of the way, whooping at the top of 
his lungs as he pivoted around the newel-post at the bottom of the 
stairs. Kelly followed from two steps lower. I don't remember 
having ever seen Kelly so boisterous. While he wasn't what you'd 
have called a quiet kid, he usually wasn't this noisy. It was as 
if the two boys fed on each other, challenging, supporting, evoking 
a restlessness that was ignited by their sexual urges, even though 
the episode in the bedroom was now just a distant memory for both 
of them. There was, however, a pleasant coolness in my groin, a 
heightened awareness of the sensitivity of my freshly shaved skin 
that I relished. As I came into the kitchen I found that the boys 
had finally quietened down a bit, Kelly sitting on the floor 
putting on his sneakers, his small fingers hurrying with the laces. 
I watched them run out into the yard, hearing them yelling loudly 
as I placed the dishes in the washer, quickly tidied up the kitchen 
and went outside myself. The boys were shooting hoops, or at least 
Dylan was, Kelly was hitting the hoop instead.

"Heh guys," I called as I came up, "You want to go in the 
Corvette or the Jeep?"

"The Corvette," they both answered at once.

I laughed, opening the garage door and standing back to avoid 
being trampled by two excited boys. "So who's riding in the 
middle?"

The boys exchanged glances, then pointed at each other, "He 
is!", they said in unison.

I laughed, "Well, I think Dylan did last time. Your turn 
Kelly."

"Ohhhh!" he said, pretending to be upset but unable to help 
himself, finally broke into a grin, "Okay,... but he has to next 
time."

Dylan grinned, "If I squeeze over, maybe we can both fit in 
the seat," he suggested.

I nodded and Dylan followed my son into the passenger's side. 
It was a squeeze but I discovered that it is possible to fit two 
boys in a Corvette seat. I got in, started the engine and carefully 
reversed out, hitting the remote control button as I went so that 
the door closed after us. I turned into a responsible adult, making 
Dylan buckle his seat-belt around both of them. They were a 'pair', 
giggling and chattering excitedly the entire way to the zoo. Once 
we'd parked the car, the two boys took off again, their energy 
seemed boundless, almost frenetic as they raced around. I couldn't 
help but laugh when I theorized that they were burning off their 
libidos. The line that had formed for the next exhibit was already 
long and we decided that we'd come again when it wasn't as busy. 
The boys took off again, Dylan leading the way, with Kelly in close 
pursuit. I followed the boys up toward the elephant house. I was 
still some distance away when they came charging back, both boys 
wearing the biggest grins I'd ever seen.

"Heh Dad,... it was 'awesome'," Kelly yelled as he came up to 
me, "You should have seen it," he added between fits of laughter.

"Seen what?" I asked patiently, fascinated by the boy's 
exuberance, his imitation of the older boy who was laughing as 
well, wondering what on earth they could have seen to make them 
this excited.

"The elephant! You wouldn't have believed it!" he shrieked, 
still laughing.

"Believed what?" I asked.

"The elephant,... he did pee-pee,... you should have seen how 
big his penis was? It was enormous," Kelly grinned, his eyes 
watering from his prolonged laughing, "It was this big," he added 
holding his arms wide, his hands as far apart as he could get them. 
"Wasn't it Dylan?"

Dylan nodded amid peals of laughter, "It kind of slid out of 
him until it was huge. It was a monster-dick. When he peed,... it 
was like a hose got turned on full pelt,... he just kept on doing 
it. It was,... his dick was huge."

I laughed, pulling Dylan and then Kelly to me for a brief, 
playful hug, feeling the momentary pressure and warmth of their 
slender young bodies, enjoying the close contact with each of them. 
Then the two boys took off again, like a team, usually with Dylan 
in the lead, but sometimes the younger boy. I followed them around 
the zoo as they 'terrorized' the animals, sometimes catching up to 
them, sometimes watching from a distance. They were irresistible, 
two beautiful young boys full of life and energy. Despite the five-
year difference in ages the two boys were fast becoming best-
friends, a fact that was patently obvious in their enjoyment of 
life and of each other. But what I liked the most was the fact that 
they always can hurtling back to me with stories of the animals 
they had discovered. They hugged me ferociously like the bears they 
had visited, and I knew that they depended on me, that for each boy 
I was the center of his life.

That morning at the zoo is one of my most precious memories, 
I began to imagine Dylan as my son, and I saw the two boys almost 
as brothers.

We had to back-track because we missed the island with the 
monkeys. I sat down at a seat on the other side of the 'lagoon', 
watching the antics of two 'monkeys', my two boys, as they imitated 
with remarkable accuracy, the antics of the real monkeys. I was 
glad of the rest, enjoying the last cool freshness of the morning 
as it gradually became hotter. Below the planked walkway fat golden 
carp swam lazily and I watched them move easily, gracefully through 
the weeds. I looked up suddenly as the warmth of the sunlight was 
blocked. Dylan had approached silently, standing barely a foot away 
from me.

"Hi monkey!" I teased.

The boy returned a grin and sat down next to me, his bare leg 
touching mine, There was a shock at the contact of his skin against 
mine, the flow of warmth between us. Dylan glanced around, then 
assured of his privacy, looked downward pausing, then said quietly, 
"I love you."

"Yeah, I know," I said, "It's mutual,... but I've always been 
attracted to monkeys you see."

The boy giggled, then did a crude, but very effective 
imitation of a monkey. "Hmmm,... Can I ask you a,... kind of 
personal question?" he said hesitantly.

"Huh? I think I've heard that before somewhere?" I teased. 
Dylan smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, his blue eyes 
sparkling. "Of course you can,... you know you can."

"Well,... I know we love each other,... and well we do 
stuff,...together,... that people do when they love each other,..." 
he began awkwardly. I nodded reassuringly. Dylan thought for a 
moment, ".... Well they do that stuff,... like mostly after they 
get married,... don't they?" I nodded again, wondering where the 
boy was headed. "Only we're not,... But you are married to Kelly's 
mom,..."

He stopped, brushing his unruly golden-blond hair back from 
his forehead, uncertain of what the question was any longer. He 
thought for a moment or two, "Do you,... well do you do stuff,... 
with her too?" he blurted out.

I smiled at the boy, "No,... well not for a long time,... 
since, well from,... I don't know when. I still love her, Dylan,... 
but it's not the same as I love you."

"But you did stuff,... with her before that? You had to,... I 
mean to make Kelly and all,...? he continued nervously.

I nodded, "Huh huh. It's been a few years," I said honestly.

"Did you,... I know I'm just a kid,...but,... Did you like it 
better,... with her?" Dylan blurted out, his voice strained, 
demanding an answer.

I was silent, trying to find the words, wanting to tell Dylan 
that the happiness of only a single day with him was the only real 
happiness I'd ever known. "Dylan, I love you,... I love what we do. 
It isn't just that it feels better, what we do together, it's 
special, you're special to me in a way that Kelly's mom, any woman, 
could never be."

The boy was quiet for a long while, holding his head between 
his hands, his knees supporting his elbows as he leaned forward, 
looking aimlessly, but very thoughtfully out to the 'monkey 
island'. "What happens now?" he asked. The nervous tremble in his 
voice was marked, suddenly he seemed very fragile, so young, too 
young for the kinds of emotional demands that our relationship had 
placed upon him.

"I don't know Dylan,... I don't,... I wish I did,... I really 
want to have the answer. But I don't," I answered gently. I glanced 
around, looking for my son. "Where's Kelly gone off to?" I asked.

Dylan looked up, glanced around, then pointed over to the red 
pandas. The boy's eyes were so much stronger than mine, but I looked 
in the same direction and finally spotted the younger boy. "You 
have good eyes, kiddo," I said. The boy shrugged, his unanswered 
question gnawing at him, insistent in his mind.

"I love you, Alex,... I don't want to leave you, ever,... I 
don't want her to come back,... I.... I don't know,... I,... I get 
scared when I think about it." Dylan choked back a rising sob, but 
a tear rolled down the boy's smooth brown cheek, "I,... don't 
know,... what to do,... I,... I,... love you,... and,... and,..." 
He started to sob, tears welling in his pale-blue eyes, then the 
dam burst and the boy shuddered involuntarily, the single tear 
becoming many as he lost control.

I pulled the boy towards me, holding him tightly, my fingers 
caressing his silky-soft hair, "I know. I know. I love you too. I 
love you too," I whispered in his ear soothingly. I could feel his 
slender body trembling uncontrollably, his face pressed hard into 
my chest shamefully, the moistness of his tears on my shirt. He 
sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, then reached 
down, his small fingers grasping and closing on my fingers. "I love 
you Dylan," I said with absolute finality, "I love you very much. 
I don't know what will happen,... but it'll be okay,... I promise 
you it'll be okay."

The boy looked up, his cheeks now wet, his eyes reddened, he 
swallowed, sniffing, holding back tears. "I,... I,... love you 
too,... but,..."

I smiled, lovingly stroking the back of the boy's hand, tiny 
veins rippling under the soft skin, "Trust me Dylan,... I 
promise,..." 

Dylan nodded and slowly a small smile formed. He rubbed at his 
eyes, wiping tears away bravely. "I,... I made your shirt all wet," 
he observed, "Pretty dumb, huh?"

"No Dylan, I understand,..." I answered. We both looked over 
to where Kelly had been. My son had moved over the other side of 
the enclosure. "He loves the pandas, he always has, ever since he 
was a baby," I said. "Sometimes I think he should have been one."

Dylan smiled, "He's a lucky kid. I wish you were my dad," he 
said wistfully.

I looked back at the boy. His eyes were serious, attentive, 
still reddened. "I wish you were my son, Dylan." In that instant I 
knew that I would do something, anything, whatever it required to 
keep Dylan. That knowledge scared me. I changed the topic quickly. 
"What happened last night? How did your mom find out?" I asked.

Dylan looked down guiltily, realizing that it might have 
turned out quite differently as he said, "When I came in she asked 
me if I had a good time. I said that I had the best time I'd ever 
had. I told her about riding the horses and swimming, and the fun 
in the car. I guess I was acting weird but I was really happy and 
I kept on talking about you. Then when I was having a snack in the 
kitchen she asked me if I liked you a lot. She kind of asked in 
this strange way, like she thought it was wrong of me to like you 
so much. I told her that I liked you more than anyone else in the 
whole world. I thought that was all because she was really quiet 
for a long while, then just as I got up to go to bed,...she,..." 
The boy was suddenly quiet, remembering the fear, the shock, the 
turmoil that had overwhelmed him. "She asked me if I,... if we,... 
had sex."

I placed my hand on the boy's thigh, my fingers stroking the 
soft brown skin, downward to his small knee, then back up to the 
edge of his shorts, gently caressing him, comforting him, hoping 
that no one was watching.

"I didn't know what to say, Alex. It was like she already knew. 
She wasn't angry, not really, but I knew she wasn't happy. I guess 
my silence sort of answered the question, she just kept on looking 
at me, then I started to blush and I felt so hot all over. I started 
to panic because I could tell from how she was looking at me that 
she knew. Then she said it again, but it wasn't a question 
anymore,... like,... like we had sex didn't we, or something like 
that. Alex, I tried to say no but all I could do was shake my head 
and I tried to look away. She knew I was lying and I've never lied 
to her before. She sort of shrugged and shook her head like she was 
really disappointed in me, then she told me to go up to bed and 
we'd discuss it in the morning."

Dylan looked up at me for support. He breathed out, a long 
drawn-out sigh from deep inside him. "So I went to my room. I was 
really scared and I felt so bad, like I'd done something dirty and 
terrible with you. I got into bed and tried to go to sleep but I 
was so worried, all I could think of was you, that I'd gotten you 
into trouble. It was a lot later, maybe about an hour, when I 
suddenly got the idea that I should call and tell you what happened. 
I went out into the living room as quietly as I could. I thought 
Mom was in bed, but she wasn't. The lights were out and she was 
sitting in the dark. I knew she'd been crying and I felt really 
ashamed. I went over to her and said I was sorry. I started crying, 
I haven't cried for a long while, but I couldn't help it. Everything 
seemed so screwed up, I told Mom I wished I was dead, I really 
wanted to kill myself. She asked me to sit down and then we started 
to talk. We talked until after midnight, about how I felt about 
you, about what I,... we had done,... about everything.... Well 
almost everything,... I didn't tell her about Kelly. Mom wasn't 
angry, she was sort of understanding, kind of like,... like she 
already knew I was gay before,... well."

Dylan looked up. The boy smiled, shifting his hand so that it 
brushed against mine, stopped so that his small fingers locked 
between my fingers. He tilted his head up looking at the sky, as 
blue as his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he 
turned back to me. "She said it was okay, Alex,... if you loved 
me,... if I loved you,... I was old enough to decide,... for 
myself,... If I,... we wanted to,... have sex and all that,... then 
she wouldn't stop us."

I nodded, "Your mom is a wonderful person. Most grown-ups 
could never understand the feelings that you and I have for each 
other. They'd be very angry at us, even at your mom."

"But,... well it's none of their business. My mom's right, I 
know she is. I know I love you, even though it's only been a little 
while. And you love me too. So they're wrong!" the boy said 
emphatically.

We looked up as Kelly ambled up and stood before us, his 
playful grin suddenly appearing as he announced, "I know what you 
two guys have been talking about. Making babies!" Then, in a 
quieter, teasing voice, barely more than a whisper, he added, 
"Fucking!"

Dylan and I both laughed as we tried to grab him. I missed but 
Dylan connected with Kelly's wrist, pulling him down onto us, onto 
the seat. I grabbed my son around the waist, restraining him while 
Dylan proceeded to tickle him furiously. Dylan and I were laughing 
and Kelly was giggling hysterically, writhing as he tried to 
escape, as an old man and his wife walked down the path and turned 
onto the planked walkway that followed the edge of the 'lagoon'. I 
heard the woman say, "Those two certainly are very handsome boys 
aren't they John", as she passed. I nodded and smiled at her, and 
playfully cuffed Dylan. He responded by turning his tickles to me 
and ganging up with Kelly. Twelve-year-old boys can be so fickle!

In the middle of the struggle, amidst cries and squeals of 
joy, Kelly reached down, grabbing for Dylan's penis and testicles. 
The older boy yelped, not in pain but in surprise and turned his 
attack back to Kelly. I couldn't stop laughing, finally I managed 
to break in, "That's enough, you guys. Not in public, okay? Heh, 
who's hungry."

It was a little after twelve o'clock and even though the boys 
had eaten breakfast only a few hours earlier, it was no shock to 
me that they answered as one. "Yeah!" Growing boys, especially boys 
as active as mine, get hungry fast. I followed the boys again as 
they took off towards the concession stands and the zoo restaurant. 
By the time I'd arrived they had already decided what they wanted 
so I gave Dylan ten dollars and went over to a table in the shade. 
Someone had left a Sunday paper lying there, actually about half 
the Sunday paper. The news and sports sections had disappeared, as 
had the advertising magazines of the department stores, the ones 
that feature the models wearing the season's fashions, the one's 
that occasionally have pictures of boys as beautiful as my two. I 
browsed through what was left of the paper. A few minutes later the 
boys came back, each carrying a coke and two hot dogs. I watched 
them eat as I sipped the coffee Dylan had brought back for me. I 
didn't know where they put all the food. They were both slender 
boys, there probably wasn't a spare pound of fat between them, even 
Kelly was fast shedding his baby fat and growing into a lean, lithe 
boy like Dylan.

The boys talked incessantly, slurping their cokes noisily as 
I tried to concentrate on reading the paper. When I got to the 
Travel Section I stopped. The story on the second page featured an 
area in western Kentucky/Tennessee called the Land Between the 
Lakes. A picture of a boy about Dylan's age diving into the water 
from a houseboat caught my attention. With Dylan sitting not much 
more than a foot away the picture no longer drew the same interest 
from me that it would have only a few days earlier. I don't know 
how the idea came to me, it just occurred as I scanned the article. 
It formed inside me until I knew. "Heh, You guys," I grinned as I 
stood up, "Behave for a few minutes, okay? I've got to make a phone 
call." I tool the paper and went over to the public phone on the 
other side of the restaurant.

It took a minute or less to dial the number on my credit card, 
then I was through. "Kentucky Lake Houseboats", a southern-sounding 
male voice drawled.

"Hi!" I said, "I calling about a rental. I wonder if you've 
got anything available?"

"Nah, nothin', everythings out, bin booked solid for a 
month,..." the voice replied. There was short interruption, voices 
in the background, words indistinguishable through the phone half-
covered by a hand. The voice came back, "Sorry,... well we got one, 
a cancellation it seems. It's the honeymooner!"

"Huh? The what?" I asked uncertainly.

"The honeymooner! It's a houseboat with a single bedroom. Got 
a king-size bed. We get a lot of honeymooners in Spring. Was booked, 
but they called yesterday, must have killed the wedding I s'pose. 
Great boat for a couple?" the man said.

"It's for me and my two boys," I answered. "Anything else?" I 
asked, as my mind raced ahead.

"Nah, nothing available anywhere on the lakes. Busy time this, 
last few weeks of school holidays 'n all. There's a couch that makes 
up a bed?" the voice suggested.

"Hmmm, I don't know. They had their hearts set on bunks," I 
lied acutely aware of my heart leaping.

"Yeah." I heard voices in the background then a click as 
another voice came on. "Hi, I'm Leo, manager here. We can do you a 
great rate on the honeymooner, if you was interested. Normally 
she's out at six hundred dollars plus gas for the week. We can do 
four hundred if you want because we have the deposit. You 
interested?"

"That sounds okay, but,... well my boys are a bit of 
problem,... they did want bunks,..." I said with deliberate 
hesitation.

"Yeah. Well how long would it be for?" the manager asked, 
"Maybe we could get you on another boat next week."

"Well I was thinking about three weeks. 'till school starts." 
I said, enjoying my game.

"Three fifty a week, for three weeks on the honeymooner?" the 
manager said, then added, "Plus gas, okay? You want linen it's an 
extra thirty a week."

"Sounds good. Let me check with the boys, okay. I'll call you 
back in a bit."

"Okay. Don't let it go too long. Busy time this. Bye!" the 
voice said before the phone clicked.

I put the phone down and looked over at the two boys. The 
honeymooner sounded exactly like what I needed. Their lunches 
finished they were looking at the comics section of the paper. I 
smiled and went back over to them. Dylan looked up, noticed my smile 
and raised his eyebrows. "What's up?" Kelly asked.

"Up? Hmmm! I don't know. I might have a surprise for you two 
boys. It depends on Dylan's mom. Come on guys. Let's get going," I 
said, wrapping up the boys' cups and napkins with my coffee cup.

"My mom? Why?" Dylan asked, "We're we going?"

"To your place", I replied, leading the way out of the 
restaurant seating area. We went back to the car and the boys 
crowded into the front seat. It took about forty minutes to get out 
of the zoo and drive to Dylan's house. Her Volkswagen convertible 
was parked in the drive and we got out.

Before we got to the door Diane Brady was there. I followed 
Dylan into his house for the first time. The living room was nicely 
furnished, two couches and a coffee table in front of a fireplace. 
A piano was against the wall. Somehow I hadn't thought of Dylan 
playing the piano but I knew instinctively that it was his. Within 
seconds, even before I sat down with his mother, Dylan and Kelly 
disappeared down the hall and into the boy's bedroom. We looked at 
each other silently. I wondered whether she resented me, it was 
impossible to tell, her face gave nothing away.

"Diane,..." I began, "I,... well I,..."

Diane smiled and sighed, shaking her head slightly, "I should 
have known shouldn't I,... at lunch, when you told me how fond you 
were of Dylan,... when I realized how much Dylan liked you. 
He's,... well,... he's a lucky boy in some ways."

"We're both lucky. I do love him you know,... I love him very 
much," I added.

"Yes, I think I knew that when we had lunch. I think I've 
always known,... that he was,... gay. He is gay isn't it?... He's 
like other boys in lots of ways but,... he's different too. He's 
very affectionate,... for a boy."

I nodded, "Dylan's a remarkable kid," I said honestly. "He's 
caring and sensitive. He's everything he should be and more, much, 
much more."

Diane looked down at the magazines on the coffee table, "His 
father was gay,... I've never told Dylan this,... but he left us 
after he met someone he worked with. Dylan's a lot like his 
father...." I nodded understandingly. "I guess I shouldn't be too 
surprised that Dylan is,... well sexually active with you. It's,... 
well it's only natural for him isn't it. It's just that he's still 
so young. He's only just turned twelve, and he's quite a bit smaller 
than normal for his age."

"Diane,... I'm very careful with him," I said gently, then 
added, "You have to believe that I would never do anything to hurt 
him."

"Well, yes,... but for a boy, doing those things,... having 
sex,... it's not easy for him, is it?" Diane asked, the stress in 
her voice clearly revealing her worries.

"You're right,... it's not easy. It can be quite painful,... 
at first,.... until he gets,... used to it. Diane,... I don't know 
how to say this,... except if Dylan was my son,... I'd be scared 
stiff..."

She wiped at her eyes and breathed out, "I,... I get so worried 
thinking about him,... with Aids and all,... if he,... well,... He 
said,... he said you didn't use a condom,... he could die,..." she 
choked back a cry.

"You have to trust me to do the right thing. I love Dylan, I 
love him a great deal,... I'd never do anything to hurt him,... 
never. Dylan and I have to trust each other,... if he knows 
love,...and we're not promiscuous,... he'll be okay."

"Love?" Diane said weakly, "God I hope so! He's so fond of 
you,... I've never known him to be this happy, just the last week 
even. He,... he needs you, Alex,..."

 "Dylan needs time, Diane. He needs time to adjust and get 
used to what it means to be gay. I need to spend time with him, I 
need to love him and help him and be with him. I want to get to 
know him better."

"Yes, I s'pose. I know you do. It's what I expected,... I think 
when I called you this morning. I know that the two of you need 
time together," Diane said quietly.

"I want to take Dylan away with me,... for a holiday, Diane. 
For three weeks, until school starts," I said simply. "I know it's 
a long while,... but once he starts back at school we won't have 
much time."

"Three weeks,... it is a long while,... I know you'll,... have 
sex with him,... but it's,... such a long time. I guess, but take 
him where?" she asked.

I felt my heart leap. Unless I was mistaken Dylan's mother had 
just agreed. "To the Land Between the Lakes, in Kentucky,... I want 
to rent a houseboat. I'd like to take him down there this 
afternoon."

"Oh! I,... Does Dylan know?" she asked uncertainly.

I shook my head, "I'm asking you first. I don't want to get 
his hopes up. If you say yes, I want to surprise him."

"A honeymoon?" she said, "It is isn't it,... in a way? I guess 
so," she said, shaking her head resignedly, "What about your son, 
Kelly?"

I nodded, "Kelly will come too. The boys are getting to be 
best friends. I want Kelly to understand what Dylan and I feel for 
each other before he's too old."

"I guess,... there really isn't much difference between a 
bedroom in your house or on a houseboat is there?" She smiled and 
shrugged, "I'd hoped that Dylan would just spend time with you 
around here, well for a year at least, until he understands more. 
I guess so, go and tell him so he can pack. His room's a bit of a 
mess, he's supposed to clean it up before tonight, but tell it's 
okay to leave."

I stood up wanting to thank her but I knew that any words would 
be cheap, unable to cover my gratitude to her, to compensate for 
the loss she felt. I smiled and she smiled back, resigned but 
somehow knowing that she'd made the right decision for her son. I 
left the room and walked down the hall. The boys were lying on the 
floor in Dylan's bedroom playing with model cars. The room was a 
typical twelve-year-old boy's bedroom, complete with the 
paraphernalia of youth, model cars, trains, boats and planes, 
trophies mostly for swimming, an assemblage of books and games and 
everything a boy accumulates. It was mostly a mess! The single bed 
was unmade, and it was funny to think that Dylan had slept there 
only hours before, that he'd dreamed there, that he'd masturbated 
there while he pretended he was with me. The door to the closet was 
half-open, a few clothes were scattered on the floor. There was a 
slight, but distinct odor of boy, the sweet smell of Dylan, his 
twelve years spent mostly in this room.

The two boys looked so innocent lying there together, pushing 
their small plastic vehicles around, making growling sounds, 
squealing sounds, simulating a car chase at high speed. Dylan 
twisted over onto his back and looked up at me, "Well, what did you 
and my mom talk about?" he asked.

"It's a surprise. Come on let's get you packed," I teased

"Packed? Where am I going? Am I going to stay at your place? 
Can I, please, go on say yes, please say yes, please?" The words 
tumbled out as Dylan leaped to his feet, excitement flashing across 
his face.

I shook my head watching as the boy's face registered first 
shock, then as his excitement deflated I started to laugh, "You're 
not staying at my house, Dylan. You're going on a holiday though. 
But where?... Now that's a surprise!"

The excitement came back in a flash, doubling as the boy let 
out a long "Yeahhh!", and then tripling until I thought Dylan was 
about to lose it. He grinned, turned to Kelly and yelled "Yeahhhh!" 
again at the top of his voice.

I shook my head, "Well Dylan, I'm glad you're excited, but we 
have to you get packed. We have a long way to drive."

"We're leaving today?" he asked.

"In about,... an hour,..."I said, looking at my watch. "Now 
we need a bag, you got something like that somewhere in this mess?"

The boy grinned sheepishly, "It is kinda, isn't it? I didn't 
expect you or Kelly, I gotta clean it up before we leave,... I 
promised Mom," he said going over to the closet and extracting a 
large gym bag from the chaos inside.

"That's okay, your mom said to leave it." I went over to the 
boy's chest of drawers. "I guess you're going to need a few pairs 
of underpants and socks," I prompted. Dylan joined me and we filled 
the bag in under five minutes, but then a twelve-year-old boy 
doesn't need that much on a houseboat besides a swimming costume, 
a couple of pairs of shorts and a few shirts. I went out to the car 
with Kelly and waited. I knew that Dylan and his mom would need to 
talk for a while. After about ten minutes they came out onto the 
porch together. The boy hugged his mother and I watched as she 
brushed a tear away. He waved as he trotted down the driveway and 
slid into the passenger seat next to Kelly.

Then it was home to my house and I called and confirmed a 
booking for the honeymooner for three wonderful weeks, wrote 
directions, gave them my credit card number and hung up. Then there 
was a frantic forty minutes of packing clothes, food, games, 
fishing equipment, and anything else that conceivably could be 
useful on a three-week holiday with two boys on a houseboat. It was 
just after 1.30 pm. when we finished loading the Jeep and I pulled 
out onto the street. I had a very long drive ahead of me.

I put an Everly Brothers tape in and settled back. The two 
boys were in the back seat, carrying on like two brothers, teasing, 
squabbling, playing games, chattering away. It wasn't until we were 
on the road for about forty minutes that Dylan suddenly looked up, 
twisted around and began to search in the back of the Jeep. A few 
seconds passed, then "Oh Shit!" he said loudly, his voice unusually 
angry.

"Huh?" I said.

"Damn! I left my bag in the Corvette, behind the seat,... It 
isn't here at all."

I laughed. "Well what's so funny? I don't have any clothes," 
Dylan retorted.

"No worries kiddo. I bet that isn't the only thing we forgot. 
We did leave in kind of a hurry. We can buy you some more stuff.... 
In fact I think I know just the place," I answered.

I did, about another thirty miles or so down the road there 
is one of those manufacturer outlet malls that are purported to be 
cheaper. I pulled off the freeway and parked the car in front of 
Bugle Boy. The three of us went in and we were served by a guy who 
was obviously a little weird. He looked Dylan up and down and 
smiled, "Well, he's a twelve,... a nice slim twelve. He might fit 
into a ten but he'll grow out of it too fast,... won't he? We have 
some nice clothes over there,... very much in fashion too." The 
assistant lead the way down through the aisles of clothing. Dylan 
looked up at me uncertainly. This was the first 'gay' I think he'd 
ever seen. I shrugged, the boy smirked.

It was a good time to shop, with summer ending, fall clothes 
were already on the racks, the previous season's clothes were 
heavily discounted. I picked out one black and one white tee shirt 
and matching cotton shorts, the kind with elastic waists and loose 
legs, for Dylan to 'bum' around in. He went over to the change room 
to try them on and I browsed around looking for something a little 
dressier. Kelly meandered off browsing through the aisles. After a 
few minutes Dylan came back. He was dressed entirely in white. The 
boy looked even more beautiful, the white emphasizing his tanned 
skin, picking up his golden-blond hair and giving him a purity, an 
innocence that was becoming. He was an angel! He grinned cheekily. 
The clothes made him look younger, thiner than he already was. He 
turned around, the shorts cutting into the boy's crack slightly and 
showing the rounded halves of his cheeks. "Pretty sexy!" I 
observed.

"Can I have them? Please?" he asked. I nodded and Dylan 
stepped forward and gave me a quick hug.

"Go put the black ones on," I laughed.

Dylan hurried off and came back after a few minutes. The 
change in the boy was remarkable. No longer an angel, his blond 
hair seemed to glisten like gold in a jewelry store, he radiated 
an aura that was at once sensual and intense. He looked like a boy 
prostitute working the streets around 42nd Street in New York City. 
The boy sensed the change in himself and he smiled shyly, "Pretty 
sexy too, huh?" He looked at me uncertainly, "Can I have these too?"

I nodded, glancing around to see if anyone could hear us, "You 
wear those around me and you know what's going to happen?"

Dylan blushed slightly, stepped forward and said quietly, "I'm 
gonna get fucked?" I grinned at the boy and nodded. Dylan shrugged, 
"Okay!" he teased playfully, "When?"

I stifled a laugh and handed the boy the pair of denim shorts 
and shirt I'd picked up, "You like these too?" The boy looked 
uncertainly at the shirt. I smiled, "Okay, it's your turn to pick 
something out that you like,... only there's one rule,... no long 
sleeves, okay." The boy grinned and looked over at a rack of clothes 
that had first caught his attention. "Sure, what ever you want," I 
added. I followed him over and he selected a stripped knit shirt 
to go with the shorts I'd picked. "Yeah! You're right, I like it 
better too. Go try them on too Dylan," I said.

Dylan headed back over to the change area and I ambled over 
towards Kelly. He was looking at the fall fashions. This would be 
the first year I could buy his clothes in the boys' department and 
the range of clothes was a lot bigger than in the young boys' 
section.

"Hi Daddy," he smiled as I approached, "Dylan looks great, I 
love the black ones.... These are nice, aren't they?" he said 
pointing to a pair of sweat pants and top. The display model was 
bright yellow and edged with purple trim, one-inch wide stripes 
down the legs and arms, like something a race car driver would wear. 
They were expensive at thirty five dollars apiece but the inside 
of the material was soft and fuzzy and very warm, the kind of thing 
that felt wonderful on bare young bodies. He smiled a smile that 
was impossible to resist. I picked up one for Kelly, size seven, 
and other for Dylan, size twelve, both yellow, both very sexy. I 
saw Dylan coming out of the change room and I went back over to 
him. He looked great in the clothes we'd selected. I picked up two 
more pairs of black and white shorts and two tee shirts  as Dylan 
went back into the change room to get dressed and collect the 
clothes he'd left there. Almost as soon as Dylan came back out Kelly 
came over to us wearing a mischevious grin. "You guys have to come 
with me. He needs undies too doesn't he Dad? I found some that are 
the same as the ones you wear."

I nodded and followed my son towards the back of the store. 
There was a couple of stands of deeply discounted clothes, stuff 
that never sold, one was underwear. Actually bikini-briefs would 
be more accurate. Not the kind of thing that parents bought for 
their sons except maybe in California. They were in packages of 
three, brightly colored, sometimes neon, sometimes stripes or 
patterns. They were a stark contrast to the conservative, hide-it-
all design of Jockeys. The store assistant wandered up, "They're 
on special,... you get three pair in the box for five dollars, but 
if you buy six or more it's only three dollars." I nodded. The store 
assistant  smiled sweetly, too sweetly and he looked at Dylan 
appraisingly. "He's quite slender isn't he?... about a 22 or 23 
inch waist,..." He turned to Kelly, "and the little one is about a 
20. They're pretty stretchy so the size really isn't all that 
important anyway. These boys could probably even wear the same 
size."

"Thanks," I said then looked at the two boys, "You guys pick 
out some you want, say six pairs each, okay?" Dylan and Kelly 
grinned at each other and went to work, scrambling through the 
assorted collection of little plastic boxes to find what they 
wanted. The store assistant looked on with obvious interest, I 
could feel his eyes feasting on Dylan, almost smelling the man's 
arousal. For a few seconds I tolerated his invasion and then I 
couldn't stand it any longer, "Let's go ring this other stuff up. 
The boys will be finished here in a bit."

"Oh!" the assistant said, suddenly startled out of his dream, 
"Yes of course," he added and lead the way back to the check-out. 
The total bill with tax and three pairs of socks came to a penny 
over $170. With the clothes in two large plastic bags, we headed 
back the car, the store assistant giving Dylan a long hungry look 
as we went past the window.

Back on the freeway the boys resumed their games and chatter 
and I sat back watching the miles tick past on the odometer. After 
a while they played one of Kelly's computer games, then they 
engaged in a squabble about who'd taken a turn out of sequence, 
then more computer games, then it was quiet. Too quiet, far too 
quiet, and I glanced up in the rear-vision mirror. I couldn't see 
much unless I strained my neck upwards, changing the angle of view, 
I guess I expected to find that the boys had finally dozed off. 
They hadn't. I stifled a laugh and watched closely. Kelly was in 
the act of taking his shorts off, lifting his hips up off the seat 
and tugging them downward. Dylan was already naked from the waist 
down, his shorts and underpants discarded somewhere on the floor 
of the Jeep, even his socks and shoes had disappeared. He was 
stroking his erect penis with his right hand, slowly, deliberately, 
up and down, his fingers pressing gently into the underside, his 
thumb looped around it. Then Kelly's shorts and underpants were at 
his knees, pushed hastily down his little legs and past his feet. 
His hand went to his genitals. Like Dylan, his penis was erect too, 
but his hand moved uncertainly, imitating the older boy sitting 
next to him. He trembled slightly as the hard little penis reacted, 
tingled, throbbed, sending a thrill down his spine that made him 
gasp. Dylan whispered something in my son's ear and the two boys 
smiled. Then Dylan reached over, his hand gently closing around the 
almost-seven-year-old boy's penis, moving rhythmically along the 
short hard shaft. After a few moments Kelly's small hand slipped 
downward, then onto Dylan's thigh, then hesitantly caressed the 
older boy's penis. They smiled at each other, ready to giggle, each 
boy quivering with excitement as they pleasured each other, as 
Kelly's confidence grew his hand movements became more controlled, 
rubbing carefully with short strokes. It was beautiful, sweet and 
gentle, not demanding. It was innocent exploration, the two boys 
giving freely, shamelessly engaging in a mutual game that made 
their young bodies glow with life and happiness.

I don't know how long I watched them, occassional glimpses of 
bare brown legs and thighs, legs slightly apart, small brown arms 
moving, little cocks standing up hard and pround, held tightly in 
small hands. By now the freeway was relatively deserted, we were 
miles from anywhere, just woods and fields of corn that stretched 
away into the distance, small farmhouses and barns dotted the 
horizon. It would have been difficult for anyone to see into the 
back seat of the Jeep, except for a truck driver, and it was Sunday 
afternoon so there very few trucks. I think that the boys may have 
known that I realized what they were doing. I didn't care, it seemed 
very natural. It was part of becoming closer and as the time passed 
I wondered how many older brothers had initiated their younger 
brother, or, how many best friends.

It went on and on, sometimes sharing, sometimes by themselves, 
exploring, examining, comparing. I was fascinated by the fact that 
Dylan's penis wasn't more than half-an-inch longer than Kelly's, 
even a bit thiner because Kelly's penis was wedge-shaped, his 
little balls just a little bit larger. Dylan's penis was more like 
mine than my own son's penis was. Unable to climax, to achieve the 
relief from orgasm, the boys' game was endless. On one occassion I 
glanced up to the mirror and I saw Dylan's face tighten, his teeth 
clench momentarily, a small but intense convulsion that marked the 
swift passage of an immature orgasm. But Kelly was still too young 
to have a build-up phase, for him it was just fun and nice feelings 
that went on and on. They did it for more than forty miles, their 
healthy young cocks staying rigid the whole way.

As we approached the next large town (city) I finally had to 
laugh, "Okay you guys back there, I think it's time to pull the 
pants up for a while. We're coming into Louisville now."

The boys started to giggle. "See I told you he knew, Kelly. 
He's been watching us in the mirror since we started," Dylan said 
unashamedly. I watched as Kelly blushed and Dylan smirked cheekily, 
meeting my eyes in the mirror. "Can we wear our new undies?" he 
asked.

I tilted the mirror down slightly, aiming back towards the 
boys, getting a complete view of their bare brown legs, of the pale 
flesh of their upper thighs and groins, of their short penises 
still erect. "So who's got the biggest one?" I teased.

The boys giggled. Dylan answered, "You have!" he said, "Then 
me!" He yelped as Kelly's hand jerked sharply, a playful tug on the 
older boy's penis, squeezing as he pulled back, "Yyyouch, heh make 
him stop,... that hurts," he squealed, amid a flurry of giggles as 
he struck back at Kelly. "Okay,... okay,... so Kelly's dick is 
fatter than mine,... okay!" he cried as Kelly's grip tightened.

"Okay guys," I laughed, "Quieten down and get some clothes on 
back there. Yeah Dylan of course you can put your new underpants 
on." I watched as he scrambled around in the seat, getting a 
fabulous view of his small buttocks as he leaned over the back of 
the seat and rifled through the plastic bags. He turned back and 
handed one little plastic box to Kelly, keeping another for 
himself. I looked away, back to the road as we neared an 
interchange, shaking my head in loving exasperation. I loved him, 
I loved them both. When I looked into the mirror again the boys had 
their new briefs on, brightly colored, small rounded bulges in the 
soft cloth, more pale, untanned skin showing than would be 
considered decent by any responsible parent. Then a minute later 
the boys were fully dressed again and sitting side by side 
engrossed in the computer game, both so innocuous and virtuous that 
it was almost impossible to imagine them any other way. Their 
awareness of their sexuality seemed only a momentary lapse from the 
innocence of youth as the sensual aspect of their bodies took 
control, then quickly relinquished or suppressed until the next, 
almost spontaneous ignition occurred. They were, I realized, that 
afternoon, both incredibly sexy boys though their sexual desires 
were still developing, coming and going almost without warning.

We stopped in a town called Henderson for dinner. It was a bit 
early but the boys were hungry again and after Henderson there 
wasn't much until we arrived. The gas tank on the Jeep was just 
about empty so I filled up first then went searching. First choice 
from the back seat was for pizza and I had every intention of 
meeting it. It took a while to find a restaurant that did a bit 
more than cardboard with sauce but we finally did. Feeding the two 
boys was an experience in and of itself. They chattered, gulped, 
chewed noisily, chattered and gulped some more. They were happy and 
excited, but then, so was I, happier than I had ever been.

Back in the car the boys slowly quietened down, the long day, 
the excitement, finally taking its toll. They didn't sleep, though 
I wouldn't have been surprised, they just sat next to each other 
and listened to the tapes as they looked out the windows.

We arrived about an hour before sunset. The houseboat was 
everything I expected.  The manager was on hand  and he showed me 
over the boat, giving limited instructions in a southern drawl 
about starting the engine and other vital mechanical and electrical 
equipment. I did my best to listen but it was difficult. The boys 
went wild! When Leo was indicating on a chart where some nice spots 
were located I finally gave up. 

"You guys, stop chasing each other and quieten down. If you 
want to help start bringing on the stuff from the Jeep". That was 
all it took and the two boys settled down right away, carrying, 
lugging, dumping boxes, bags and fishing tackle onto stern deck.

"Sorry about not having a boat with bunks for those two kids," 
Leo said as he stepped off the boat onto the dock. 

I smiled, "Doesn't seem to bother them now. I think I'll use 
the couch otherwise they'll keep me awake most of the night."

"Kids get excited 'round boats. Those two sure are cute kids 
though. Now you guys have fun, 'n I'll see you in three weeks. If 
you got a problem you have the number here, okay?"

I looked at Dylan and Kelly, they were more than cute, they 
were downright  beautiful boys but I wasn't going to say that to 
Leo. "Heh Dylan, make yourself useful, go on the bow and when Leo 
unties the line, you pull it aboard."

"Yeah, sure,... Dad," Dylan called back. My heart leaped.

"Kelly you watch out behind me and tell me if I'm going to hit 
anything," I said, smiling as I saw my son's small face beam with 
a flash of recognition. I motored out into the channel and the boys 
joined me up on the 'bridge'. Once out of the marina I opened the 
throttles and the houseboat picked up speed, skimming across the 
almost dead calm water. The sun was just beginning to set, a rosy 
red hue that promised a splendid day to come. Once on the other 
side of the lake and about five miles from the marina we travelled 
more slowly, searching for a quiet cove, a break in the shoreline 
that was unoccupied. After about ten minutes, just as the light was 
fading we motored into a small bay, peaceful, secure, private, 
except for a few dozen ducks. Kelly was yawning and stretching, his 
eyes almost closing, as I switched off the outboard engines.

I went forward, anchored the boat and then went into the main 
cabin, Kelly had already curled up, still in his clothes, asleep 
on the king-size bed and Dylan was undressing, his shirt thrown 
over the chair, his tanned chest and stomach revealed. He looked 
up as I came up next to him. "Kelly went out like a light," he 
whispered. Then the twelve-year-old boy smiled sleepily, his own 
eyes struggling to stay open, tugging his shorts slowly downward 
to his knees. "We can do it,... if you want,..." the boy mumbled, 
his voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.

For most of the long drive I had thought of little else than 
this moment, of taking the boy to me and loving him. Gently I 
pressed him back onto the bed next to Kelly and untied his shoe 
laces, pulled them off, removed his socks and then finished taking 
his shorts off. Except for the little neon-blue briefs, Dylan was 
naked. I was going to take his underpants off too, to reveal his 
magnificent boy-body but he was already sound asleep. Like Kelly, 
he too 'went out like a light'. It had been a long day for Dylan 
and I leaned forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. His 
skin was soft and warm and dry and I felt the hot moistness of his 
breath on my cheek, heard the boy's voice whisper, so quietly that 
I could barely hear, ".... love you....", as he faded into sleep. 
I sat there for a long while watching the two boys sleep, watching 
the gentle movements of their chests, rising and falling with each 
small breath, the little bodies stirring as dreams came. 


Chapter 9.

I awoke slowly, dreaming of Dylan, of the beautiful naked boy 
with his arms wrapped around my waist, his slender brown legs 
around my buttocks, my penis inserted full depth into his anus. The 
boy was using all of his strength to lift himself up and down, his 
muscles straining, driving my cock hard into his body, then pulling 
up, sucking loudly as my cock came almost all of the way the way 
out, leaving just the head still inside, restricted by the boy's 
tight anal band. His mouth was half-open and he was breathing 
quickly, gasping for air, his hair dishevelled, tiny beads of sweat 
on his forehead, his eyes closed. Then his motions became more 
frenzied, jerking deliriously, his rectum squeezing, convulsing, 
his head throw back, a scream of ecstasy as he climaxed. His body 
erupted, from his small boy-penis a spurt of white-hot semen shot 
out between our bodies, landing on his chest, then another, more 
copious, thicker, like a grown man, his cock throbbing as more 
spurts came, unbelievably white and gooey as it drooled down over 
his narrow chest and belly. I stirred, sighing, trying to change 
the outcome of my dream, trying to reverse and then replay Dylan 
the way he was. Still not awake but semi-conscious, my eyes closed, 
I lay still as the outside world became real again.

"Look at Daddy's penis, it's huge isn't it? Isn't it stiff? 
Is it always this stiff?" I heard Kelly whisper.

"Huh? Yeah,..." Dylan whispered back, "Isn't it 'awesome'? 
Stop wriggling 'round Kelly or you'll wake him up."

It took all my concentration to prevent a smile as the boys' 
words entered my world. I sighed gently, then made my chest rise 
and fall with each deep breath, feigning sleep.

"Can I touch it?" Kelly whispered, shifting slightly so that 
he was closer to me.

"No dummy, that'll wake him for sure," Dylan admonished.

"I like how it looks without any hair, it's funny,... it looks 
so smooth like that," my son whispered.

"Yeah! It looks like ours, like he's still just a little 
kid,... except his dick is a whole lot bigger,..." Dylan giggled.

"Do you think my penis will be that big when I'm grown up?" 
Kelly asked.

"I guess,... you're his kid,... you'll probably be as big I 
s'pose. Your dick is already pretty big compared to mine isn't it," 
Dylan said. There was a note of sadness, regret, even a little shame 
in the older boy's voice. For some reason every boy is sensitive 
about the size of his penis. Boys like Dylan that are smaller than 
average are always at a disadvantage.

"Does Daddy's penis really go inside your bottom?" Kelly asked 
after a long pause.

"Huh huh", Dylan responded uncertainly. There was no denying 
the urge that grew inside him even now, the desire becoming 
stronger ever second that he lay there next to me. The boy's pale-
blue eyes were glued to my erect penis, remembering the sensations 
he'd already experienced. The pain at first, the terror as the huge 
cock sunk into him, the pressure building until he thought his body 
would explode, then the bruising endless thrusting that lifted him 
up even as the cock pounded down in his buttocks, down into the pit 
of his belly, until every part of his young body was concentrated 
below his spine. Part of him had hated it at first, tried to deny 
that it had ever happened, demanded that he resist, then only a few 
hours later in the dark bedroom he had conquered the hatred, 
understood that he could never deny it again. The truth had risen 
up inside him, he had discovered his true self that afternoon at 
the farm. Even now Dylan knew that his own small cock was hard, 
pointing stiffly out into the nylon of his new briefs. There was a 
feeling in his belly, or rather deep inside his body, that gnawed 
hungrily, a void demanding to be filled.

"How far, Dylan,... you know,... how far inside does it go?" 
Kelly whispered, bringing Dylan back from his silent thoughts.

"Huh? Oh!,... Pretty far,... mostly the whole way in I guess," 
Dylan whispered, remembering, feeling a sudden rush of excitement, 
now very aware of the demanding, aching presence of the void, 
making his sphincter tighten though not uncomfortably, squeezing 
on his bowel again and again. "Yeah, his dick goes in pretty far," 
he added proudly for emphasis.

"But,... doesn't it hurt, Dylan? I mean,... well Daddy's penis 
is so big,... and well,... your bottom isn't that big,... He really 
puts it in where you poop?" Kelly asked curiously. Confronted by 
my erect penis, I could hear that the younger boy was frightened 
as he considered what the answer to his question would mean.

"Yeah! It hurts,... at first it hurt like hell,... but I 
didn't tell him. I knew he wanted to do it to me so much. Then after 
a bit it doesn't,... well hurt as much,...well only it does, but 
it's different. It gets kinda stretched back there, in my butt-
hole,... Don't be a dummy, Kelly, of course that's where he puts 
it in me," Dylan whispered. I sensed Dylan's hand move slightly, 
dropping downward, then his small fingers enclosing, squeezing on 
the swollen rounded end of his penis where it is the most sensitive.

"Wow!" Kelly breathed out in awe, "It must be really big 
inside you. Does he do pee in you? the younger boy asked 
uncertainly.

Dylan giggled for a moment, "Not that big, like I said it 
stretches inside me so he fits, at first it's really tight inside 
if he just puts his finger in, then it gets loose after a bit. 'n 
he does pee inside me Kelly, he puts his sperm in me," he whispered.

"Huh? Well,... but what's,... sperm?" Kelly asked 
persistently.

"It's 'come',... what he makes babies with,... what he made 
you with,... only he put it inside your mom," Dylan answered 
patiently, then added as an after thought, "It's white and kinda 
thick and creamy. You don't get it until you're older,... like a 
teenager."

"So you and Daddy are making babies! I knew you were!" Kelly 
said with conviction.

"Don't be dumb Kelly. I'm a boy, I can't have a baby, only 
girls can," Dylan retorted.

"Okay, so why does he put his stuff in your bottom,... his 
sperm stuff?" Kelly continued.

"'cause,... well 'cause it makes him feel good,... and me too 
I guess,... It makes both of us feel good inside Kelly,..." Dylan 
said as he looked down at my still erect penis, no longer excited 
by my dream but by the boys instead. "It's,... well it's kind of 
special, Kelly. I think it is anyway. I don't know why,... maybe 
because part of him is inside me,... after he takes his dick out." 
In those last few seconds Dylan's breathing had quickened and his 
voice became increasingly husky and strained. I had a good idea of 
what was on Dylan's mind.

The boys were quiet for a minute and I considered 'waking' up, 
fairly certain of what awaited me. I liked the thought of what Dylan 
had in store for me.

"Dylan,... can I,... ask you something?" Kelly began 
awkwardly, his voice trembling nervously.

"Yeahhh," Dylan said huskily, his fingers squeezing harder and 
faster on his rigid penis, rubbing the little head with his thumb, 
"Yeahhh what Kelly?"

"Well,... can I watch?" Kelly mumbled.

"Huh?" Dylan sighed, moving his legs apart slightly, then 
trembling as he squeezed his hand, rubbing on the short hard shaft 
of his penis, massaging his little testicles under the nylon of his 
bikini briefs, then pulling his legs back together again as the 
pleasure mounted swiftly.

"Can I,... watch,... you know what you do with Daddy... Can I 
watch him put his penis in your bottom,... can I?" Kelly asked 
urgently.

"Huh? You already saw that,... on the farm," Dylan said, "on 
Saturday,...have you forgotten?"

"No,... well,... but I didn't see that,... I saw you both 
naked,... and I could see Daddy moving,... and you were kinda 
crying and jerking around on the bed,... but I didn't see,... that 
in your bottom," the younger boy answered. I knew Kelly had pointed 
to my cock, I heard the peculiar mixture of fear and respect, the 
wonder that a young boy feels when he is first confronted by a man's 
erect penis, the tumescent power that commands obeisance, his own 
small penis neglected and depreciated.

"Yeah,... I s'pose Kelly,... but you dad might not,... I guess 
I don't mind but you can't ever tell anyone," Dylan said.

This was as good a time as any to wake up. I shifted, stirred, 
sighed, rolled over slightly towards Dylan so that my nose was 
pressed into his bare shoulder. He was warm and soft and sweet-
smelling. "Hmmmmm," I sighed, then I licked the boy's skin. Dylan 
giggled as I licked again, downwards towards his tiny nipple. I 
touched the softness of the little mound of flesh, probed with my 
tongue, then nipped it lightly. "Hmmmmm, you taste soooo goooood," 
I said.

The older boy giggled again, "Hi! I thought you'd never wake 
up.... It's almost nine.... Kelly and I've been awake for a long 
while."

I started to laugh, unable to hold back any longer as I lifted 
myself up, then scrambling over Dylan, pressing him back into the 
bed, my legs either side of his, taking my weight on my arms. "So 
Dylan,... I hear you like having my sperm in you?" I teased, my 
cock jerking and throbbing hungrily as it protruded outward 
pointing downward slightly toward the boy lying underneath me.

The boy looked up into my eyes, and he smirked obscenely as 
he nodded, "I like it when you 'come'. It's awesome, you get all 
shaky and wild-looking." He reached up, pulling my head down 
towards him as he lifted up to meet me. The kiss was sweet and 
gentle, Dylan's little tongue probing for mine, then as my tongue 
found his, his mouth opened wide and he sucked me back, taking all 
of my tongue before his own came swirling back to embrace me. I 
lowered my hips, pressing down onto Dylan, taking just enough of 
my weight on my knees and elbows so that he wasn't uncomfortable. 
I felt the boy's hard little penis squished under my belly, his 
slender arms locked tightly around my neck. My own cock lay in the 
gap between his legs, the engorged head pressed hard into his 
little soft scrotum, forcing his tiny delicate balls to the sides. 
I knew what I wanted, I was pretty sure about I knew what Dylan 
wanted.

I heard Kelly chanting childishly, "... Daddy and Dylan are 
in love. Daddy and Dylan are in love. Dylan and Daddy are 
kissing...." but I ignored him. I kissed Dylan again and again, his 
hot wet mouth sealed to mine, his tongue pushing up, exploring all 
the way into my mouth, my hips thrusting gently, making my cock 
pulse forward into the rounded little hemisphere of the boy's 
balls, rubbing his small cock under me. 

Playfully slurping noisily as he broke the suction, Dylan 
pulled his mouth from mine, "You wanna fuck me?" the boy whispered 
in my ear, "'cause I do."

I grinned at him, my face only inches away from his. "You fell 
asleep last night", I teased.

Dylan grinned back, "So! I'm not sleepy now, am I?"

"No," I laughed, "You certainly aren't. My little friend down 
there feels pretty hard too." 

"Yeah! So's mine... So you wanna?" Dylan asked huskily.

"Heh Dad, Dylan says he doesn't care if I watch," Kelly 
blurted out, "So can I?... Please?"

I glanced sideways at my son. He was sitting up looking at us. 
He'd taken his clothes off, everything except his pink-neon 
underpants, so that like Dylan, he was nearly naked. The little 
pointed tent in his new nylon briefs was unmistakable. I glanced 
back at the boy underneath me, he shrugged and then smiled shyly, 
"I don't care if he sees everything,... he's gonna see us sooner 
or later. I guess the sooner he knows what happens, then he won't 
bug us." 

Dylan's logic was irrefutable. Get rid of the younger boy's 
curiosity and he'd leave us alone.

I turned to Kelly, "Okay, but just this time. You have to do 
us a favor first," I said. Kelly grinned at Dylan and nodded 
obediently, his eagerness clearly displayed. "Okay, go get the 
little jar of yellow stuff out of my bag, I think I left it on the 
couch outside." Kelly hurried off and I turned my attention back 
to Dylan. We kissed urgently, hungrily, enjoying the privacy we now 
had together. With our mouths stilled locked together I carefully 
rolled off Dylan and onto the bed, twisted back and with my left 
hand tugged the boy's blue-neon briefs downward, my fingers crooked 
under the thin elastic waist-band.

The tip of Dylan's penis caught under the waist-band, levering 
it downward, then suddenly, loudly it came free and smacked against 
his flat brown belly. "Ouch", Dylan complained, though now happy 
to be free of the constraining cloth.

"Sorry," I teased as I pulled the offending briefs downward, 
"Dylan junior sure is hard isn't he. I s'pose that hurts more than 
getting him stuck in a zipper huh,?"

"Yeah! You gotta be more careful. He's just a little guy," 
Dylan answered as his feet came through the briefs and he was naked 
and exposed. "Yeahhhh!" he sighed, his slender legs parting wider, 
his hips pushing upward to make his cock surge forwards.

I leaned forward over the boy kissing him again as my eyes 
travelled down his slim body, his small thin penis suspended 
parallel to his belly, his balls shrivelled up beneath, then I 
followed my eyes down with my fingers and lips, kissing his neck 
and shoulders, tracing circles on his chest, teasing his nipples, 
then kissing his chest, his belly, tracing his firm stomach muscles 
down to his groin, then feeling the hard hot head of his penis 
between my lips as my fingers enclosed the slightly moist heat of 
his scrotum, squeezing on the precious cargo within as gently as I 
could. Although this certainly wasn't the first time I felt the 
boy's testicles, I was suddenly very aware of the delicate skin of 
the boy's pouch, the size of his testicles, barely bigger than 
marbles, the role that they would eventually play as he grew into 
manhood. Parts of my dream returned and I felt sad that eventually 
Dylan would no longer be the same boy that he was now.

"Daddy's sucking on Dylan's penis," Kelly chanted in his 
teasing sing-song voice. He stood in the doorway, clearly 
fascinated, obviously very excited, fingers enclosing and 
squeezing on the bulge in his briefs, cupping between his little 
brown legs, working his fingers into the underside of his ball-sac.

Dylan was not one to teased at a time like this, "So! So what? 
I love it when he does this to me. It feels awesome! Did you get 
what he wanted?" he asked, challenging the younger boy.

"'couldn't find it. I looked all over too," Kelly retorted 
angrily.

I sighed, knowing it was there, reluctant to get up and go 
look for it myself. Finally I pulled my head away from Dylan's 
throbbing, now-very wet cock. "Okay, well go out there and find the 
bottle of vegetable oil,... it's got Crisco,... C-R-I-S-C-O- on the 
label,... it's for cooking,... it's with the food things," I said.

"Okay,... but well,... why do you need it?" Kelly asked, 
"'cause I thought you were going to fuck Dylan," he giggled, then 
added, "'n his skin isn't that dry anyway."

"Well Dylan needs something to make him slippery inside. 
Otherwise it would really hurt a lot," I answered, "Go and get the 
oil tiger," I added. 

Kelly disappeared again, a few seconds passed, sounds as he 
looked though the boxes, then he padded back into the bedroom 
carrying the bottle of Crisco. "This it?" he asked as he placed it 
in my hand. 

I nodded and unscrewed the cap. "Okay Dylan, assume the 
position, kiddo. On your belly, butt up, and part those beautiful 
cheeks of yours," I laughed. Dylan complied eagerly, crouching down 
with his buttocks lifted up, his small thin fingers grasping each 
pale smooth cheek and pulling them apart to reveal the length of 
his crack. I smeared my fingers into the crevice, running from his 
little scrotum all the way up to his spine. Dylan sighed, then 
sighed again as my fingers returned, pausing at the soft 
indentation of his anus. I wasn't sure that it would do the job but 
there was only one way to find out. The amber-yellow oil was cool 
and it glistened on my fingers, it was slippery and oily, not greasy 
like Vaseline. I pressed my forefinger into the boy's bud, felt him 
tremble at the contact, the momentary resistance, the quiver of his 
sphincter, the flesh parting as my finger penetrated the boy's 
tight anal band. The warmth and pressure inside Dylan's body was 
instantaneous. He gasped, then breathed out as he felt my finger 
surge forward, a relentless pressure driving into his body slowly, 
a spasm as his muscle instinctively contracted on the foreigner. I 
twisted my finger down, grinding into the boy's prostate. Dylan 
yelped, a sudden intake of breath, then breathing out slowly, so 
slowly that it turned into a long drawn out moan as the incredible 
pleasure he'd discovered within his body returned again. "Yeahhhh 
Yeahhhh! Do it there,...that's soooo good!" he whimpered, taking 
his hands away from his buttocks and using them to hold the pillows 
at his face and shoulders.

Kelly looked on, visibly enthusiastic, captivated as he 
watched the older boy writhing, pushing back, demanding more of my 
finger, his gasps increasing in intensity with every second. After 
a few more minutes I eased my finger out. Already Dylan's anus was 
dilated, not fully, but enough that it didn't close up again as my 
finger pulled free. I picked up the bottle of oil, then lifting 
Dylan's buttocks higher, and pushing his cheeks apart, I placed the 
opening of the bottle at the boy's anus. I squeezed gently, forcing 
the oil bottle forward so that the openings were sealed together. 
Dylan shivered slightly as he felt the coolness of the oil seeping 
down into his rectum. A little escaped, dribbling down his crevice 
and onto the wrinkled little ball-sac, then dripping onto the 
sheet. I didn't care but I was glad that I'd decided to bring our 
own sheets and towels. I stopped when I figured there was a bit 
less than a half of a cup of oil inside him. Dylan crouched 
uncertainly, feeling the coolness inside his body fade slowly, a 
warm pleasant sensation. He looked back over his shoulder, "Put it 
in," he said, his voice breaking.

I needed no further invitation, I laced the bottle of oil on 
the night-stand and ran my oil covered hand up and down the shaft 
of my cock, making it glisten. I moved until I was kneeling behind 
the boy and I came forward as I leaned over him, bringing my hips 
towards his buttocks. The boy tensed as he felt my cock probing 
into his crack, locate the soft hot opening, then press forward, 
burrowing into him. The oil made a remarkable difference. His anal 
band resisted my entry valiantly for a few seconds, then in the 
slippery oil, I slid through. Unused to my cock going in so quickly, 
Dylan shuddered and tried to pull away but I held him tightly by 
the hips and I pushed until I knew that the boy was on the verge 
of panic. He was shaking like a fish on a spear, impaled on my cock 
without warning. Already I was about half in. I held onto the boy 
tightly as his struggles passed, becoming feeble, then finally he 
was quiet, breathing deeply, his anal band stretched tightly around 
my cock. I began to thrust, using slow gentle motions, moving my 
cock little more than a fraction of an inch. Then as he loosened a 
bit more I began to move a more, still not more than an inch, each 
time going just a little deeper until enough of my cock, probably 
five inches or more, had disappeared and my balls were beginning 
to slap against Dylan's small scrotum with every thrust forward. 

Kelly was squatting on the bed watching us, watching the 
rhythm of my body against Dylan's body, watching the boy shudder 
and gasp every few seconds, twitching as spasms continued to pass 
through him without warning. "Aren't you hurting Dylan?" he asked 
me nervously.

I was about to say no, that the boy was okay, when Dylan 
twisted his head around towards Kelly. I saw Dylan smile weakly, 
then shaking his head he said hoarsely, "No,... he's,... not,... 
hurting,... me.... I,.... feel,... so good,...inside."

I felt happy with about five inches inside the boy, his rectum 
was tight and it seemed that if I pushed any further the head of 
my cock was forced into a very sensitive place that resisted my 
deeper progression. It was, I thought, probably the end of his 
rectum as it turned to the side and merged into his large intestine. 
I had no desire to displace his insides or rupture his bowel. Dylan 
seemed comfortable at that point as well, a little deeper, a little 
greater pressure and I could sense his body fighting the sudden 
pain that welled up inside him. I began to move my hips a little 
faster, building up the rhythm and allowing my cock to pull back 
further and further in the slippery hot flesh. It was like being 
inside a tube, a very hot and alive tube, every movement of my body 
transferred directly into Dylan's body and every movement of his 
came back into mine. We were joined as one, inseparably moving as 
one, sharing just five inches of our bodies, yet each of us 
concentrating all of our feelings, every sensation. It seemed as 
if our entire beings were located there, as if we existed only for 
the overpowering delight that began at the base of Dylan's spine 
and ended in my hard throbbing cock.

With my cock still embedded inside the boy I carefully rolled 
the two of us onto the bed so that we were lying on our sides, Dylan 
facing towards Kelly. He was curled up slightly, his knees drawn 
up towards his chest as though he was still crouching on the bed. 
My body followed Dylan's, curving behind his back, my hand around 
the boy's waist, gently stroking his little navel. I couldn't see 
the expression on Dylan's face but I could see Kelly's. It was one 
of wonder, of rapture, of delight. I doubted whether it was that 
much different from the expression on Dylan's face, except that the 
older boy was in considerably greater ecstasy. In this position 
Kelly could see very little of what I was doing to the older boy 
and it upset him, for a moment he leaned forward on his haunches, 
peering down between us, now unsatisfied, his view obstructed 
almost completely, he straightened up, pouting.

I smiled at my nearly-seven-year-old son, fascinated by his 
sexual interest, wondering what thoughts were passing through his 
small head as he watched. I knew that he'd been extremely 
interested, perhaps entranced would be a better word, as he watched 
my thighs moving back and forth against Dylan's small pale buttocks 
even though he could have seen very little from where he was. Sooner 
or later Kelly would have to know what my love for Dylan actually 
entailed and this seemed like as good a time as any. I placed my 
hand on Dylan's upper leg, sliding my fingers between his leg and 
thigh, behind his knee. Slowly I lifted his leg upward, he shifted 
uncomfortably as his legs came apart and my cock moved inside his 
belly changing the position of the pressure within him. I held his 
slender leg high in the air, almost perpendicular to his body, 
revealing his genitals, exposing the both mine and the boy's body. 
I looked over his shoulder, seeing Kelly staring between Dylan's 
legs, his mouth open in amazement, his eyes wide, focused on the 
older boy's penis, then the sudden realization that he was looking 
at my penis disappearing into Dylan.

Dylan's penis was limp, retracted slightly into his body so 
that it was barely two inches long, his testicles had tightened in 
a small knot of crinkled flesh, fine corrugations criss-crossing 
over the taut pouch, a little fold of skin running from the 
underside as it followed the line of his urethra back into his crack 
before it merged into his body. Two inches further along the boy's 
crack and the dark ring of his anus was stretched impossibly wide 
around my cock and forced inwards. Like an O ring, it formed a tight 
seal, swelling around the underside of my cock, but the seal was 
imperfect, both mine and Dylan's cock and balls were coated with 
the glistening oil that seeped out, a little amber-colored trickle 
running down the length of the boy's crack. About two inches were 
still outside, the rest contained deep inside Dylan's body. I 
pulled back gently, withdrawing almost all the way until only the 
swollen helmet head of my cock was still inside, the flange pulling 
into the boy's anal band, ready to pop free. I saw Kelly's eyes 
staring as my cock came into view, the boy's anus pulling back with 
it slowly, trying to hold on before the friction was broken. Dylan 
groaned, feeling the pressure fading, the void forming inside him. 
Then gently I thrust my cock back into Dylan, sliding on the oil 
slicked flesh until my balls pressed into his cheeks. Dylan groaned 
again as my cock filled him, surging past his aching prostate. I 
paused letting the boy relax, his ragged breathing slowing rapidly 
until he was breathing deeply.

"It doesn't hurt him," Kelly whispered, "Your penis is in 
Dylan nearly all the way and he's okay."

I nodded, feeling Dylan's sphincter tighten involuntarily, 
momentarily grasping on my cock. "He likes it Kelly, if I move very 
gently,... he likes it a lot."

"But,... well Daddy if he likes it,... so much,... then,... 
well,... why is his penis so soft? You said it gets hard when he's 
excited. Your's is really hard but Dylan's isn't!" my son observed.

"That's because all of the good feelings that Dylan has are 
deep inside him, not outside on his penis, Kelly. Inside his body, 
where my penis is right now there is a very sensitive place, his 
prostate, and my penis rubs against it. A little bit further inside 
is his bladder, remember I said that was where he stores his pee, 
sometimes my penis pushes into his bladder. That feels so good that 
it makes him lose control a bit, so he pees a little bit at a time," 
I said.

"Like before, at the farm, when there was pee in his belly 
button?" Kelly asked curiously. He looked down at Dylan 
thoughtfully, "But,... well why doesn't his penis feel good now?" 
he asked doubtfully.

"Because I'm not touching it right now. If I was Kelly, he'd 
be nice and hard, just like you are," I grinned, looking at the 
little 'stick' poking out in Kelly's briefs.

My son glanced down between his legs and smirked back at me, 
"Can I,... can I make Dylan's penis stiff like mine?" he asked.

I nodded, and Kelly reached forward tentatively, the tips of 
his little fingers gently stroking the wrinkles in the other boy's 
scrotum. "Squeeze his balls Kelly, just a little bit," I 
instructed, "Kind of roll them between your fingers,... he likes 
that a lot," I smiled as Dylan whined in delight. "Don't do it too 
hard, he's still a little boy and his balls are very sensitive,... 
we don't want to hurt him,... just make him feel good," I added as 
Kelly's fingers tightened slightly.

"Oh!... Sorry Dyl," he murmured. The older boy, his face half-
hidden in the pillows, shook his head, gasping as my cock became 
alive inside him again, pumping steadily but very carefully.

"Wow! That's incredible," Kelly said, "I can see your penis 
moving in Dylan's Tammy. It's making it bulge out as you push it 
in and out," he giggled.

I looked down along Dylan's body, he was shaking slightly, his 
bottom leg trembling, twisting. Kelly was right, there was a 
distinct movement in Dylan's lower belly, a kind of bulge that 
moved up towards his navel as I pushed in, then down again as I 
pulled back. I had never noticed it before, never realized what 
happened as my cock filled him, displacing his insides, suddenly I 
felt intensely proud of the naked boy lying before me. I eased back, 
taking my hand away from Dylan's leg and placing it flat on his 
lower belly. As I pushed back I felt his belly surge, a hard bulge 
that was the head of my cock deep within him. I felt the same 
intense thrill that I had known the first time that I felt Kelly 
moving inside his mother's body. It felt alive, and very, very 
special. "You feel okay Dylan?" I asked gently.

The boy nodded abruptly, his unkempt hair an unruly mess of 
silky golden-blond strands. I put my hand back under Dylan's leg 
and continued to move slowly going as deep as I could until the 
boy's body resisted me. Slowly Kelly teased Dylan's small penis 
into responding, then as the blood flow increased, the older boy 
stiffened rapidly, his small cock springing up until it was rigid 
and almost unyielding. The minutes passed as I began to move a 
little faster, as Kelly's hand fluttered urgently, stroking Dylan's 
little penis feverishly. Then without warning Dylan began to writhe 
on the bed, trying to grind his hips back onto my cock while working 
his cock against Kelly's hand, "Faster,.... okay,..." he hissed as 
he breathed rapidly, short panting breaths that didn't fill his 
lungs. I watched as he began to strain, felt his rectum squeezing, 
forcing himself onto my cock, trying to increase the already 
unbearable pressure on his immature prostate. His legs were 
quivering, his arms jerking, then his body arched back against mine 
and I could feel every muscle in that slight body straining hard, 
the muscles in his belly standing out as he tensed, then he 
convulsed with a sudden squeal from deep in his belly, shuddering 
as his body began to twitch. I stopped moving, taking my cock out 
almost to the rim of his anus, leaving just enough inside so that 
I still possessed him but giving him the relief that he desperately 
needed. A couple of pale watery droplets of urine dribbled out of 
the end of his penis, running down the swollen little shaft and 
wetting Kelly's hand.

"What happened to Dylan, Daddy? Why did he go all funny like 
that?...He did pee pee again too, Daddy," Kelly smirked.

I grinned at my son, "Dylan had what's called an orgasm, 
Kelly. It's when all his feelings come at once, and he feels so 
wonderful inside that he can't control himself. It's not a proper 
orgasm, like he'll have when he's older, when his sperm will come 
out, but it's still an orgasm. You helped him, Kelly,... by rubbing 
on his penis, you made him feel 'specially nice down there."

I let the boy relax, waiting for the tremors to pass, for his 
body to regain it's control, knowing that I could keep on and he'd 
have more, several more before I finished. His body had loosened 
even further, the sphincter dilating fully, allowing my cock to 
slide back into him, now his rectum felt less like a slippery pipe 
than it did his mouth, the soft hot tissue enveloping my cock. It 
was wetter, juicier than it had been before, almost as if a copious 
flow of mucous had been part of his orgasm. My cock moved easily 
now, there was little resistance, just the ever-present tightness 
of his anal band like a ring around my cock shaft, the suction of 
my cock caused mostly by the slippery juice that oozed around my 
cock.

"It feels really loose Dylan," I said.

"Yeah! Yeah I know, I feel like,... like jelly inside."

Kelly grinned, "That was cool Dylan, you went wild for a bit, 
like you were crazy or something."

"I'm sorry I peed on your hand, Kelly," Dylan said with 
effort, his body drained from the effort of the last few minutes, 
"I,... I couldn't help it."

"It's okay Dyl, really I don't mind,... It sure smells kinda 
funny, though," Kelly added. He was right, the smell wafted up from 
between our bodies, the odor was distinct and not unpleasant, a 
sweet smell, not of faeces, but musky. Kelly grinned at Dylan as 
he identified it's source, "It's coming from Dylan, Daddy. He 
smells like bread, like right before it goes in the oven."

I nodded, my son had described it perfectly, a sweet, yeasty 
smell, like the smell a child gets when he has a very high fever. 
"It's from inside his body, Kelly. And you're right, it does smell 
like that doesn't it?"

I began a slow regular rhythm, moving my hips backward and 
forward as I rocked against the boy's buttocks. There was no rush, 
I wanted to savor every blessed wonderful feeling of being inside 
my beautiful young boy. After his orgasm Dylan's penis had 
subsided, no longer erect, but not soft either, it was rubbery and 
firm, still slightly elongated, and non-responsive to Kelly's 
gently moving hand. My son turned to me curiously, "What's 
wrong,... why won't it get hard again like before?" he asked 
nervously, "Did I hurt it,... or break something?"

I grinned and shook my head, "No Kelly, he's okay,... he's 
tired that's all, and his penis is sleepy,... like after you've had 
a big dinner," I added.

Kelly giggled, "Okay, but what should I do now?"

I shrugged, "Whatever you want... Maybe Dylan would like you 
to play with his balls... Why don't you ask him?"

Dylan looked up at Kelly and smiled, still exhausted but 
sympathetic to the younger boy's need to participate. "Yeah", he 
said hoarsely, twisting his head around so that he looked at me 
over his shoulder, "Can I have him suck me,... like you did?" he 
asked. 

I shook my head, "Kelly's not ready for that yet Dylan, not 
like this anyway, not now, okay." Dylan nodded. "Kelly just play 
with his balls the way you were before,... or if you want, let Dylan 
do your penis instead."

My son grinned and complied willingly with the my last 
suggestion, quickly sitting back on the bed and tugging his little 
pink-neon briefs off. He tossed them onto the floor and settled 
back with his head in the pillows next to Dylan, his body facing 
towards the older boy. Dylan reached forward, taking the boy's 
small hard penis between his fingers, rubbing on the tiny helmet-
shaped tip, the minute slit barely visible. I was still thrusting 
gently into Dylan, feeling the fabulous lubricity of his body 
working against mine, I planned to keep doing it for a long while, 
pausing whenever I felt my own orgasm approach. I watched Dylan 
masturbating Kelly, his hand moving awkwardly, stroking the short 
hard shaft with difficulty as he tried to concentrate on pleasuring 
the younger boy while at the same time his own delight was 
boundless. After a few minutes Kelly began to reciprocate, fondling 
Dylan's delicate balls, trying hard to renew the older boy's 
erection. It was difficult for both boys, I could see that Kelly's 
heart wasn't in it. After a few minutes he lost interest and he 
took his hand away. "I'm hungry, Daddy," Kelly announced curtly, 
as he sat up again and swung his legs off the bed, "You guys have 
fun fucking, I'm gonna get somethin' to eat."

He padded, almost noiselessly out of the room. "What's wrong 
with Kelly?" Dylan asked quietly, "He's acting like he's angry".

I shrugged, "Jealous of all the attention you're getting 
probably. Don't worry, he'll get over it," I whispered in Dylan's 
ear. Lovingly I touched his soft ear lobe with my tongue, pressing 
it close to his head, burying my nose into his soft hair, "I love 
you Dylan Brady, Kelly has to understand what that means. That 
we'll be together sometimes, we'll do things that he can't always 
be part of."

"Yeah, I know,... I love you too... Holy shit! Alex, that 
feels so good,... when you do it slow like that... It feels all 
mushy inside me.... But Kelly's part of us too,... Well I like him 
a lot,... I always wished I had a baby brother," Dylan murmured.

"In a way, well I guess you do," I said gently, pushing a 
little deeper into the boy, until his resistance increased, before 
backing away. "God you feel wonderful Dylan."

It seemed endless, our bodies moving relentlessly, right up 
to the point of my orgasm before I eased off, taking Dylan over the 
precipice time and time again until the boy was almost unconscious, 
his body drained, his young strength exhausted. Then I felt the 
point of no return, realized that this time I was going to be unable 
to hold back, and I began to pump faster. Dylan summoned the last 
of his energy, thrusting back against me as hard as he could, his 
hips moving feebly, his pitiful gasps coming between barely audible 
moans. For a while my cock hadn't been all that hard, but it was 
hard enough to keep Dylan very, very happy. It hardened again in 
those last few seconds, my orgasm imminent, then as I thrust 
wildly, my body flailing, my hands grasping the boy's hips so that 
we were locked together, I felt my orgasm bursting up the shaft of 
my cock and spurting again and again deep inside Dylan's body.

And then it was over, as the dying spasms made my cock jerk, 
I dropped back, my heart pounding, gasping for air, totally 
drained, my cock pulling free of the boy's body so that the final 
spurt came over the pale, glistening skin of his cheeks, dribbling 
down onto the bed. I hugged Dylan to me, he was sobbing, not crying 
but close to it, trembling as his own delight faded.

Minutes passed, long slow minutes until the heat in Dylan's 
slender body passed, until his rapid breathing quietened, until his 
heart slowed, until the longing that continued deep inside his 
belly faded. Then I sensed that the boy had dozed off, finding 
relief in sleep. I held him closely, pressing into his soft warm 
body, nuzzling his smooth neck, kissing him gently on the 
shoulders, trying to relive the precious time I'd shared with him, 
wishing that the boy was still awake so that I could tell him how 
much I loved him. Suddenly I became aware of Kelly standing in the 
doorway, watching silently, still totally naked, his little penis 
now hanging limp and loose between his legs.

I saw that Kelly was about to say something and I pressed my 
forefinger to my lips to show that he should be quiet, smelling the 
pungent, though sweet odor that lingered from the juices that still 
flowed inside the boy's body. Kelly nodded and tiptoed over to the 
bed, standing shamelessly naked before me almost flaunting his 
beautiful little body. In the last few months Kelly had become 
increasingly inhibited about the private parts of his body, no 
longer charging around the house stark naked, or coming into the 
bathroom or bedroom when I was. Though I still saw the boy naked 
several times a week it was without the freedom he'd had earlier. 
Now he was reversing his recent progression, undoing the influences 
of his friends at school and societal standards, his small hand 
shifted towards his genitals, then placing it in the furrow between 
his groin and thigh, he cupped his little fingers around and under 
his scrotum, massaging himself deliberately as he looked down at 
me. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to 
do, but then Dylan and I were naked as well. 

"Dylan's asleep," I whispered, looking up at my nearly seven-
year-old son, amused by the fact that his penis, when limp, was 
every bit as big as Dylan's was. I wondered how large Dylan would 
be when he grew up. He was slender now, a slim boy that was less 
than average height and weight for his age. Kelly was a good ten 
inches shorter than Dylan and he weighed just on forty-eight pounds 
dressed the way he was right now.

Kelly nodded. "But he just woke up, Daddy?"

"He's tired, Kelly. Doing what we did takes a lot of energy. 
He'll wake up in a bit. What's the time?"

"Huh? Oh,... it was,... um,... ten 'oclock a bit ago," he said 
quietly.

"What, I didn't think it was that late,... are you sure?" I 
asked.

Kelly nodded. I was surprised, I knew I'd been with Dylan for 
a long time, but an hour? Actually a little over an hour if Kelly's 
ability to tell the time was good. I looked down at Dylan proudly, 
"No wonder he's asleep," I thought aloud.

"Huh?" Kelly asked.

"Oh,... nothing.... I was just thinking.... Have you had 
breakfast yet?" I asked.

Kelly smiled and shook his head, "I was outside on the deck. 
It's nice in the sun. There are ducks hanging around and the water's 
so clear I think you can see fish.... Can we go fishing Dad?" he 
asked excitedly.

I grinned, remembering what I had said to Dylan about Kelly 
being just a little bit jealous of all the attention the older boy 
was receiving. Carefully I pulled away from Dylan, and got to my 
feet. I looked down at the sleeping boy. For an instant I thought 
Dylan looked innocent, as only children can when they are asleep, 
but there was a large round stain under his hips, dark against the 
white cotton sheets, a clear sign which together with the sweet, 
musky smell provided vivid evidence of what had transpired on the 
bed. Luckily, for once there seemed to be no blood on either of us, 
and I lifted the sheet up over him so that his naked body was 
hidden.

"Come on Kelly," I whispered, leading the way out of the room. 
He glanced down at the older boy and then followed me out of the 
room.

In the front 'cabin' I turned and faced my son, we looked at 
each other. I admired my son's perfect little body, the wide gap 
between his slender brown legs, the minature genitals, the smooth 
hairless skin. He smiled shyly, knowingly and he swallowed 
nervously as he summoned up his courage, "Daddy,... Are you going 
to do that,... to me too,... when I'm older?" he asked.

I looked at the boy, noticing that his eyes were fixed on my 
groin, on the pale hairless skin around my limp penis, still 
glistening with an oily sheen, still slightly wet with the mucus 
slime from inside Dylan and the semen that I had deposited there. 
Suddenly I wasn't certain of the answer to his question. I felt 
sick, not as though I was going to be sick, but unhappily sick, a 
kind of dread that I'd started something that could only end in 
complete and absolute disaster for all of us.

"You want to eat breakfast first or go fishing?" I asked, 
breaking the silence that had filled the room.

"I already had some,... I got some Cheerios outta the box," 
he said, still nervous, on the edge of fear. "I guess fishing," he 
added.

I picked up the two fishing rods and the cardboard box with 
the night crawlers that I'd bought at the marina and guided Kelly 
outside into the warm sunshine. It was peaceful and beautiful, the 
sun sparkling on the water, the early morning mist still visible 
amongst the trees where the sun had yet to reach. A few mallard 
ducks were swimming about forty feet away, the water so clear that 
you could see to the bottom, perhaps ten feet down. "So where did 
you see the fish?" I prompted.

"Up front, Daddy."

There was no one around and the little bay was totally 
private. I walked up to the bow with Kelly, our naked bodies side 
by side, then we sat down, dangling our legs over the side. Kelly 
turned to me and grinned, he was a very happy little boy. I passed 
my son his fishing rod and watched from the corner of my eye as his 
small fingers tried to attach a crawler. He was growing up fast. 
He flipped the bail back and dropped his line into the water with 
a little splash. It sank away into water. I sighed deeply. "What's 
wrong Dad?" he asked gently.

I turned to Kelly, "Huh? Oh! Nothing's wrong.... I don't think 
I've ever been this happy before."

Kelly looked up at me, "Because of Dylan?.... Because you love 
each other?"

"Yes,... that and the fact that I'm here with you." I placed 
my arm protectively around his bare shoulders and he scooted a bit 
closer so that his small leg was pressed against mine.

The boy glanced downward, "I like him,... your penis,... like 
this,... without any hair,... your penis is just like mine,... and 
Dylan's too.... It's like we're three boys?"

I grinned, letting my own line drop into the water and I hugged 
Kelly closely to me.

Kelly was right, there were fish in the water, big ones, about 
a foot or more in length, you could see them swimming around lazily, 
coming nearer to the bait, then shearing away as if they had nothing 
better to do than play with us.

Kelly and I started to make jokes about them, pretending that 
the fish were geniuses, or that they all had college degrees, or 
that ..... An hour passed without a nibble before we were ready to 
give up, get up, and get breakfast.

I heard Dylan come out of the cabin even as he called out, 
"Hi! So you guys catch anything yet."

Kelly and I both turned around and smiled at the naked boy, 
"You finally decided to get out of bed?" I teased.

Dylan grinned and stepped closer, "So where are all the fish?"

Kelly giggled, "They're too smart for Daddy. I think they 
don't like eating crawlers for breakfast."

Dylan grinned and came up next to me, his hand dropping down 
onto my shoulder, rubbing gently. It was more than a friendly 
gesture, it was full of love and happiness, and fond memories of 
what we had shared only an hour earlier. "I'm starved," he said. I 
reached around, sliding my hand up his bare leg, past his knee, 
then following the inside of his thigh until my fingers brushed 
against his delicate little scrotum. In the heat, without the 
demands of passion, it had loosened up, the tiny pink folds as soft 
as the purest silk, a tracery of veins under the almost translucent 
skin. "You feel okay?" I asked.

Dylan nodded, "Yeah! I guess,... it feels kinda sloppy 
inside,... like it's all wet and loose back there... But it doesn't 
hurt or anything like that."

"It is wet and loose back there,... we did it for over an hour, 
Dylan. I'm surprised you can still stand up, let alone walk." I 
teased.

The boy smirked, "Yeah! Well I probably couldn't swim or dive 
or anything like that. Have you guys had breakfast yet?" he asked 
hopefully.

I got up, pulling my son to his feet, "Come on Kelly, let's 
get breakfast, it sounds like Dylan is getting hungry. We can leave 
the rods here, maybe something stupid will come swimming along."

The boys laughed and I led the way back into the cabin.  I'd 
brought eggs and bacon for our first breakfast on the boat. The 
boys and I needed the energy boost of a fried breakfast. It was 
impossible not to notice Dylan's naked body and remember, to feel 
an overpowering urge to take him back into the bedroom and repeat 
the experience, again and again. He was beautiful, not even close 
to the onset of puberty, still a boy with a young boy's body, but 
one that was fit and healthy, and perfect in every way. Again and 
again my eyes came back to admire the lean slender torso, the lithe 
brown limbs, the little boy genitals, bouncing, bobbing, always 
arousing my interest.

I had almost finished cooking the eggs when Kelly began to 
giggle. He pointed at Dylan, at a dribble of yellowish fluid that 
had run from the boy's crack and half way down the inside of his 
right thigh. "You're dripping," I laughed, "I guess you must be 
pretty juicy back there," I teased.

Dylan was hungry and in no mood to be teased, "Well you put 
it there," he retorted.

I put the spatula down and pulled the naked boy to me, placing 
my leg between his legs and hugging him, smearing the wetness over 
us as I tickled the squirming body in the places where I knew he 
was most sensitive. Dylan started to giggle then he began to hug 
me back, pressing his little cock into my leg as his mouth came up 
to meet mine. "Gee you guys, come on I'm hungry," Kelly complained.

I laughed as I pulled off a paper towel from the side of the 
stove, turned Dylan around, knelt down and carefully wiped out his 
crack. The boy was still dilated. I knew that his opening was not 
as large as it had been earlier, but it wasn't far from it, perhaps 
a half inch in diameter still, the muscle of the boy's anus still 
stretched so that I could see the crimson-red of the inside of his 
rectum. There was no sign of the pucker that a boy should have, his 
anus opened inwards and the narrow rim was darker than I'd ever 
seen it. I leaned forward and kissed his pale soft cheeks on either 
side and then straightened back up. "You're pretty big back there," 
I said.

"What do you expect after fucking me for over an hour?" Dylan 
grinned as he went over to the table to get the plates.

I looked at the two naked boys and knew this was going to be 
an 'awesome' three weeks.


Chapter 10.

We carried our plates out into the sunshine and sat at the 
small table in the stern sun-deck. It was a wonderful meal in a 
beautiful setting, but more than anything else I enjoyed watching 
the two boys devour their food hungrily.

The sun streamed onto their naked bodies as they stretched 
out in the chairs, legs shamelessly stretched wide apart, small 
genitals exposed to the fresh air and sun. For a boy who spends the 
vast majority of his life clothed, the sense of liberation that 
comes with being naked and free is exhilarating. The boys giggled and 
teased me continually. None of us had even eaten breakfast in the 
nude before and it was a lot of fun, harmless fun, without any 
sexual overtones except for the occasional giggle about my hairless 
dick!

After breakfast, and a late breakfast at that, the boys and I 
went back to fishing. This time, they promised, they were going to 
'show me how to do it'. Dylan had never been fishing before. I guess 
that fishing is just one more thing, of a great many things, that 
most mothers don't get into with their sons. No wonder Dylan was 
anxious to have a man's company, he needed my attention in more 
ways than the one we'd already experienced that morning.

 I handed my fishing rod to Dylan, pulled up a deck chair and 
settled back in the sun. It was amusing to watch Dylan and Kelly 
together as they sat side by side, like two brothers, fishing off 
the bow, their slender brown legs dangling over the side. Since 
he'd woken up, Dylan had quietened down considerably. I wondered 
whether the memory of what I had done to him was still strong in 
his mind but the more I thought about it the more that I was 
convinced that there was a deeper problem. I waited, sooner or 
later Dylan would open up.

Dylan was noticeably quieter than usual, not sulky, just much 
quieter, almost as if he was still exhausted, though I knew that 
he'd pretty much gotten his strength back while he'd slept and from 
a hearty breakfast. For Dylan had eaten like a horse, and a hungry 
horse at that. I smiled as I looked at his lean body, tiny brown 
ripples of skin at his belly. He was slim, his waist and hips so 
narrow that you had to wonder where he put all the food. He finished 
off his share of the eggs and bacon in nothing flat and then started 
on my breakfast. But then, that is one of the delights of boys like 
Dylan.

I let him eat most of the bacon, I didn't need the saturated 
fat; and one of my eggs, I didn't need the cholesterol either. But 
I drew the line at my toast and coffee and one solitary egg. After 
all I needed to keep my strength up too.

 The sun rose higher in the sky and it began to get quite hot. 
After about half an hour I could feel the sun burning into the pale, 
untanned skin of my thighs.

The last thing I wanted was one of the boys, but especially 
not Dylan, to get sunburned down there. Dylan has the kind of skin 
that tans quickly and darkly. For that matter so does Kelly, though 
his skin is fairer and more delicate, and more likely to burn if 
he gets too much sun at one time. I got up and went back to the 
cabin, found the large squeeze-bottle of suntan lotion and went 
back outside. 

The boys looked up and smiled as I came up. "Who's going 
first?" I asked. I grinned at Dylan, "The last thing we want is 
Dylan junior getting sunburn."

Dylan grinned back at me cheekily, "Or Dylan's butt either,... 
'specially not Dylan's butt."

I laughed, "You're not wrong about that Dylan. I do want you 
to have a nice tan,... all over though," I said. Dylan smiled and 
I reached down and took his hand and lifted him up easily. It was 
nearly midday and as I touched his bare skin I could feel the sun's 
heat burning into him. I stood in front of the beautiful young boy, 
knowing without even looking down that my penis was stiffening from 
just being so close to him. I didn't know whether Dylan was the 
same way but I did know that it wouldn't take him very long. The 
boy looked up into my eyes and I tried to see into his head, to 
read his mind, to discover what was bothering him so much. Guilt, 
shame, fear at being gay? I wanted to help him, I wanted to show 
him how much I loved him, I wanted to take care of him for ever. 
As the boy looked back I could sense the love he had for me, more 
than just the lust and the passion we'd shared on the bed, but a 
deep affection that seemed to grow stronger every minute we were 
together.

I squeezed a large thick line of white cream over his 
shoulders and chest and began to massage it in thoroughly. Dylan 
didn't mind this one little bit, unlike Kelly who usually puts up 
something of a fight. Dylan just stood there with a happy smile on 
his face, enjoying the firm movement of my hands on his body, 
meeting my eyes every few seconds, breathing steadily. I worked my 
way around his back making sure that all of the exposed flesh was 
well protected. Then I began on his buttocks, covering the pale 
smooth skin of his small cheeks thoroughly.

I even made sure that there was some inside his deep crack, 
though it was unlikely that the sunlight would ever see it. It was 
a good opportunity to make sure that his anus was still on the way 
to recovery. I knelt down, parted his cheeks gently and examined 
the boy. 

The boy's anus was still contracting, getting smaller and 
tighter, though still dilated. I wondered whether I had stretched 
him too far, but other than the residual slackness at his small 
orifice there seemed to be no other damage. There was some 
yellowish slime that had oozed out of the opening and formed a 
little foamy spot where his anus was. It smelled exactly like 
rising dough, the yeasty smell that Kelly had identified earlier 
that morning. It was a sweet smell, a nice smell, a smell that I 
had brought forth from deep inside the young boy's body. I inhaled 
deeply, absorbing the odor.

Then with my tongue extended as far out as possible I licked 
the boy, from the back of his silky-soft ball-sac, all the way along 
the length of his crack, and up to his backbone. Then back again, 
pausing for a brief second at his still loose hole. It was 
remarkable that after two hours the boy's opening was still dilated 
enough for my tongue to slip inside easily. The taste of Dylan's 
body was overpowering, the taste of salt and a not unpleasant sweet 
taste. As I licked and sucked I couldn't help but wonder if Dylan 
was enjoying it as much as I did. Then as the thought entered my 
mind Dylan let out a sigh of pleasure and my tongue surged into him 
as far as I could reach. The boy responded immediately, pressing 
back against me so that my face was squashed against his warm smooth 
cheeks. His bottom was slippery from the lotion and the smell was 
very different suddenly. Still I inhaled deeply, he was wet and hot 
and like me, quickly becoming aroused again.

Kelly interrupted us, hearing Dylan's sigh, followed by a 
little whimper of unbridled delight. He turned around and looked 
up. "What are you guys do...Yuck,... that's gross," the boy said, 
the note of disgust clearly present. I held back a laugh and 
continue to probe Dylan's anus with my tongue. I adored Dylan and 
I loved the taste of his beautiful young body. I basked in his 
flesh, overcome by the intimacy of our contact, wanting only to go 
on sucking and licking. "Yuck!" Kelly said again, "That's dirty. 
That's where Dylan poops from." I didn't think that Kelly could see 
what I was doing to Dylan, all he could see was my face pressed 
tightly into the older boy's buttocks.

Dylan saved me the trouble of answering, "It's not, Kelly. 
It's not.... It feels so awesome," Dylan sighed out. 

My tongue probed back into the boy as far as possible, then I 
pulled away, gave the boy's crack one long wet lick, kissed him on 
either cheek and turned him around. In the few all too-brief moments 
that I had spent, Dylan had become erect again, his little penis 
sticking straight up pointing towards his navel, though falling a 
long way short of the little fold of brown flesh that was stretched 
across the top, half covering the small indentation in his belly. 
His penis reached somewhere about half-way I guessed, but he was 
only twelve years old.

"You can see how much Dylan likes it, Kelly", I said, wiping 
the saliva from my lips with the back of my hand, then playfully 
tweaking the small hard penis. "Yeah, I guess it is dirty in a 
way,... but you know it's a very special part of his body too. It's 
where Dylan and I make love. It's not as if he wasn't clean 
there,... but you're right,... we do need to be careful. There's 
no point in any of us getting sick."

Kelly looked at me obviously confused, wondering why I was 
worried about getting sick, thinking it was probably because of 
'germs'. I wasn't sure that Kelly needed to know about sex and 
hygiene but it was certainly time that Dylan had some basic 
instruction. And Dylan gave me the perfect introduction.

"That guy yesterday,... the one in the store where we bought 
the clothes,..." Dylan said hesitantly. I nodded as I continued to 
apply the lotion to his thighs, getting very close to, but not 
touching his rigid little cock. "....well he's gay too,... like 
us,... isn't he?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, Dylan,... I imagine he is,... but not quite like 
us." I replied

Dylan nodded, "How is he different?" he persisted.

I shrugged, "How he acted."

"Oh!" Dylan said, "Yeah I guess he did act kind of weird." He 
grinned, "It was like he wanted us to know that he was gay. He was 
kind of showing off wasn't he."

"Huh Huh! But it was a bit more than that," I said.

"Because he was acting like a sissy the way he spoke and 
stuff?" Dylan asked uncertainly. I nodded and smiled at the 
observant twelve-year-old. Not much escaped Dylan's eyes, and with 
his intelligence, he'd figure out most of the world around him fast 
enough. "But,... well why?" Dylan asked still uncertain, then 
added, "I don't want to be like that when I'm older. I know I'm gay 
now but, well I want to be like you when I grow up."

I smiled and playfully flipped at the boy's penis, pulling it 
downward towards the deck. He flinched as his penis bobbed back and 
smacked against his belly with a loud slap. "You won't kiddo. 
There's no way I'm going to let you grow up like that."

"Well why does he have to act like that if he's gay? You don't! 
I felt really strange around him."

"What made you think he was gay, Dylan?" I asked.

The boy thought for a moment. "I dunno,... I guess,... well I 
s'pose it was how he kept looking at me. It made me feel,... well 
uncomfortable,... like he was looking at my body and I was naked. 
I like it when you look at me,... you know what I mean,... but not 
him though. I didn't like him at all."

I smiled, "I'm glad Dylan. I really don't think I could live 
without you," I thought aloud.

"Huh?" the boy asked.

"What's the problem Dylan?" I asked gently. "You know sooner 
or later you have to trust me. You're happy aren't you? What's 
bothering you?"

The boy looked away and shrugged, "Yeah, Alex I'm happy, I've 
never been this happy in my whole life. I'm okay."

"Dylan,... trust me, please," I said reassuringly, stroking 
the boy's lithe, muscled legs, marvelling at the smoothness of his 
skin, not even a trace of the faintest down.

"I,... I don't,... It's okay, really it is," the boy said 
absently.

"Dylan," I said quietly.

The boy looked back at me, breathed out with a sigh, "It's 
nothing." He hesitated then murmured, "I love you.... Alex I want 
to be with you always,... I want to live with you and Kelly,... and 
do what we did this morning in bed."

I smiled gently, "What about you mom, Dylan? She'd miss you. 
She loves you too, doesn't she?" I said.

"Yeah. Yeah I know that,... but well it's different,... you 
know that."

I nodded. "It is different, you know it and I know it, but 
most people in the world would never understand. They'd think it's 
terribly wrong, what we do together."

I looked up following the boy's body. His penis had softened 
again. For some reason that worried me and my eyes continued up. I 
found the boy looking down at me, tears forming in his beautiful 
pale-blue eyes. He sniffed and pressed his lips together, then 
swallowed.

"What's wrong Dylan?" I asked gently. 

"Oh! I was just thinking about you,... and Kelly too for that 
matter. I love you, I really do. I,... I want people to 
understand,... I don't want them to hate us."

I squeezed some of the lotion out into my hand and began to 
massage it in to the few square inches of Dylan's body that remained 
free of lotion. It was the most important part of the boy, the part 
that made him special, the part that made me love him.

"You know Dylan, both you and Kelly are beautiful boys. There 
are a few men out there who would do anything to be here now with 
you, men that would be kind and gentle,... I think some men would 
love you every bit as much as I do. But you know there are a lot 
of other men who wouldn't love you, they'd take advantage of the 
fact that you're still young, they could hurt you a great deal. 
You're both so young, it,... well it wouldn't be too difficult for 
a man like that to ruin everything."

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Kelly asked.

"Well some men love boys, they love them so much that they 
would never hurt them. They want the boy to be happy above 
everything else. They will have sex with the boy, but it's a part 
of their love. Like with Dylan and me. What I do with Dylan is the 
way I show Dylan how much I love him."

Dylan grinned, lovingly placing his hand over mine, pressing 
it tightly into his groin, squeezing my fingers back into the soft 
little pouch under his penis. "Kelly I love your dad too,... I want 
him to do that stuff with him more than anything else in the whole world. 
That's what being gay means!" he said smiling at me.

"Dylan's absolutely right," I added. I took a deep breath, 
"But not every man is like me. A lot don't care about loving you. 
All they want is sex, and well, when you're young and as good-
looking as you two boys,... well they want it even more."

"How can they hurt us? I mean,... well Dylan said that you 
hurt him a bit the first time,..." Kelly asked.

"It still hurts when I first put it inside him. It does doesn't 
it, Dylan?" I said.

The older boy nodded slightly, "Yeah, it hurts,... but I don't 
mind,... it stops pretty quickly once your dick is in a fair way. 
Like this morning, it just hurt for the first couple of minutes,... 
then it felt nice."

"That's only a part of the hurt, Kelly." I looked at Dylan and 
smiled, feeling ashamed and sad that I hurt him, that he kept it 
'bottled' up inside him. I wanted to feel his pain, to make 
everything good and happy and nice for him. "Having sex,... with 
some people,... is bad for you," I said slowly. "Having sex,... 
with some men,... well it isn't like Dylan and me,... it, well it 
could even kill you," I said slowly.

"How?" Dylan asked nervously.

"Well,... I guess if the man's penis is too big, or he isn't 
as gentle as he should be when he puts it inside the boy,... it's 
very likely that he'll be hurt pretty badly, the boy's insides will 
be damaged or torn up. Dylan bled quite a bit the first two times and 
I was very careful." I said. "Then there's Aids,... you know what 
that is?"

Kelly looked uncertain but Dylan nodded, "Yeah! It's a disease 
or something."

"Yes, Dylan it is. It's a terrible disease, there's no cure, 
almost everyone who has caught it dies. It's a disease that gays 
get."

"Is it caused by germs?" Kelly asked.

I nodded. "The germ gets into your blood and starts reducing 
the ability of your body to resist other germs, that's what the 
word 'Aids' stands for Kelly, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. 
It means that your body's immune system breaks down, so you get 
sick,... Normally when you get sick you body makes things that 
fight the germs so you get better,... or immune. But with Aids it 
doesn't,... so eventually you get so sick that you die."

"But well how does the germ get inside?" Dylan asked.

"Is it something like a cold?" Kelly asked.

I shook my head, "No it's not like a cold, Kelly. Mostly the 
germ gets directly into your blood but you can get it other ways 
too. If the other person had Aids it's very likely you'll get it 
too. He might not even know he's got it... then again he might,... 
but he doesn't care about you enough to worry. The germs are already 
in his blood, or in his semen,... that's his sperm,... even in his 
saliva. When he puts his penis inside you, in your bottom, or even 
in your mouth, the germs go into you."

"Yuck!" Kelly exclaimed.

"It's worse for a boy like Dylan,... because his body is 
fairly small inside,... well it's very likely he's going to bleed 
when the man's penis is inside his bottom,... then the germs go 
straight into his blood. If the man's penis is inside his mouth 
it's still very dangerous,... but at least there's a chance the boy 
won't get it. Back here," I said, gently squeezing Dylan's small 
firm cheeks, "...well it's almost certain."

"But you don't have it? Aids that is?" Dylan asked nervously. 
I looked at the boy gently. He thought for a moment and then smiled 
knowingly, "'cause we wouldn't do that stuff if you did, right? You 
wouldn't want to hurt me?"

I nodded. "Your mom knows about this Dylan. She'd much rather 
you were having sex with a boy about your own age. I think I would 
too, even though I know it would mean that I wouldn't be here with 
you now. It's probably better that you find out about your body 
like that....with someone your own age. Dylan,... the problem is, 
well,... not every boy is the same,... most boys, if they're 
interested, have sex together... A few boys are different. They come 
to grown men to find out... You know a boy may not even be gay,... 
but it's part of growing up,... of finding out about themselves."

Dylan looked at me uncertainly, "Like Gary, my friend from 
school, I don't think he's gay,... he just wanted to have fun,... 
when I wanted to do more stuff,... well, he didn't. I,..." The boy 
swallowed awkwardly, "I started pretending I was with a man, looking 
at pictures in books or magazines,... I even cut a few out and hid 
them in my room,... pictures of guys in their underpants and stuff 
like that. I guess I'm one of those boys huh?... Is that bad?" he 
asked after a long pause.

I shrugged. "Dylan a lot of people wouldn't understand that 
you could feel that way. They don't realize that you could be 
interested in me in the same way that I'm attracted to you. They'd 
say you were too young to know what you wanted or what was good for 
you,... they think I am doing a bad thing, taking advantage of you 
because you're so young. They'd say that I forced you to have sex."

"But I'm not so young, I'm twelve. I love you, I,... well I 
only do what I want to with you,... you don't force me," Dylan 
retorted angrily. "Why can't they understand? Why can't they mind 
their own business and leave us alone?"

I nodded in agreement, "A few might understand how we feel 
about each other, but not many. Mostly I think they're scared. They 
don't understand because they don't have the same feelings. They 
become frightened, I guess because they think of their own 
children, that somehow I'd lead them astray, that my sole interest 
is enjoying their bodies. Dylan, you know I love you. I love you 
because of what and who you are, but also because you love me back. 
I'm not interested in taking advantage of some little boy. But 
there are a lot of men in the world who are interested in that kind 
of thing."

Dylan nodded understandingly, "Like the guy in the store? 
Yuck! I would never do that stuff with him. He's,... well he's kind 
of slimey."

I laughed, "Well, that's one word for it, I guess. Mostly he's 
just different. He needs understanding too. He's probably a nice 
person deep down, it's just that he thinks differently."

"Yeah I guess," Dylan said unconvincingly.

I grinned, "You don't have to like him,... and I certainly 
don't want you having sex with him,... but,... well you don't have 
to hate him. All he did was look at you, Dylan."

"Yeah! I know that,... I don't think I hate him,... I just 
don't,... well like him, and I don't want to grow up to be like 
him, that's all," Dylan said.

I laughed, "Don't worry kiddo, you won't. I always want you 
to be able to talk to me Dylan, more than anything I want us to be 
friends. Even if we stop having sex, I'll still love you, I'll still 
want you to be my friend."

Dylan looked up, I could see the shock, the fear, the terror 
that my words brought, "But,... well I,... we,... always will won't 
we. I like doing stuff with you," he said, suddenly on the verge 
of crying, "I love you, Alex,... I don't wanna stop,... never,... 
ever! I won't ever do this with anyone else! I promise."

Lovingly I fondled the boy's golden-blond hair, it was so 
soft, like silk, glistening in the midday sun. "I hope you don't 
Dylan because it would tear my heart out. But as you get older,... 
well we don't know what will happen then,... Later on, maybe 
tonight I'll show you and Kelly a way to avoid getting Aids."

"But I won't,... Not if I'm always with you and neither of 
us,... well,... you know," Dylan said sadly. "I guess I don't want 
you doing this stuff with another boy except me."

I wasn't sure how to answer that. Sooner or later Dylan would 
grow up. I didn't know if I would lose interest when he was no 
longer a boy. I hoped not. I shook my head and lovingly pulled the 
naked boy into my arms and against my chest. We hugged as Kelly 
looked up at us and smiled. "I'm glad you guys love each other and 
all that, but I wanna fish some more," he giggled.

I pulled away, holding Dylan's shoulders, tenderly stroking 
his thin brown neck with my thumbs. I knew that in some ways I was 
taking advantage of the boy, but someone would sooner or later and 
I was glad it was me. I grinned down at my son, "Good idea Kelly. 
Let's put some lotion on you before you get burned okay."

I turned back to Dylan, our eyes met and I could feel the love 
we both felt surging between us. "I bet Dylan catches the first 
fish," I said.

"Why? Why not me?" Kelly asked jealously.

I laughed and pointed at Dylan's fishing rod. The tip was bent 
over in an arc, jerking with sudden force, "Holy shit!" Dylan shouted 
as he jumped away, and grabbed his fishing rod. I smiled as I 
watched the two boys, both naked, their small firm buttocks still 
pale, their slender brown bodies excited, their squeals of joy as 
Dylan wrestled his first fish aboard, Kelly shouting encouragement 
and instructions. It was a nice sized bass and a nice surprise since 
it was in the middle of the day.

As soon as the boys quietened down, which took quite a while 
because catching one's first fish tends to leave a boy in something 
of a 'high', I made Kelly stand up and try to remain still while I 
applied suntan lotion to him. Getting Kelly to be still for any 
length of time is nearly impossible. Full of life, his energy kind 
of spills out, and he wriggles and twists and does just about 
anything to get free. Finally I had enough of him covered that I 
was certain that any sunburn wouldn't be too painful.

The boys fished for another two hours and caught two more 
fish, and even though both were attributed to Kelly, I think Dylan 
shared in the glory. By then it was more that hot enough to swim 
and when the boys put their rods down and suggested going for a 
swim I was happy to go along. It had been more that four hours since 
I'd finally pulled free of Dylan's body and he'd been so exhausted 
that he had not moved. Now I watched the boy clambering up onto the 
rail, balancing for a brief second by leaning his buttocks back 
against me, then executing a perfect dive into the water from about 
five feet up. It was as if nothing had happened, he was healthy and 
happy and just like any 'normal' twelve-year-old boy. He arced into 
water with barely a splash, and from above I watched his beautiful 
naked body moving in breast-stroke under the surface. He emerged, 
shaking his head, laughing, calling for us to join him. Kelly 
jumped in with a big 'cannonball' splash and I dived in from the 
side of the boat. Needless to say a water fight started as soon as 
I came to the surface, Kelly and Dylan ganged up on me and although 
I could have won I took the coward's way out and beat a hasty 
retreat to the shore amid hysterical giggles from the two boys. 
They followed me up on the shore and we spent the next hour or so 
exploring. Following the two naked boys around as they discovered 
the world around them, made up names for the different places, 
pretended they were shipwrecked, and then wild indians, and then 
pirates, was as much fun as I have ever had. The boys still lived 
in a precious world, a world of dreams and fantasies, a world that 
I was still a part of because of my association with them.

It was close to four o'clock when I finally convinced the boys 
it was time to go back to the boat. Neither boy was willing to 
leave, the shore had become our special island, something that 
we would always treasure, but it was getting late and I still needed 
to motor back to the marina and pick up a few essentials. So after 
I promised that we would come back later that afternoon, the boys 
and I swam back to the boat, stood on the stern sun-deck and ate 
big slices of red watermelon, spitting seeds into the water and 
dripping on the deck. Then it was into the cabin and dressing, 
finally covering our bodies for the first time that day. I pulled 
up the anchor, with help from Dylan and Kelly, carefully steered 
out of the little bay and headed for the marina. As we came into 
clear water I handed the helm over to Dylan. He grinned like a tiger 
and didn't do a half-bad job either, then shared it with Kelly, 
which sent us careening over the water in something of a sine curve.

After we tied the boat at the dock we went up to the car and 
drove the half-mile or so into town. At the supermarket I spotted 
a telephone and led the boys over to it. It took a minute to call 
Dylan's mom using my credit card. It was after five o'clock and I 
was hopeful that she was home. She picked up the phone almost 
immediately and I handed the receiver to Dylan and nodded as I 
playfully squeezed his shoulder. I heard Dylan say "hi mom" as I 
turned and pulled Kelly after me into the supermarket. 


Chapter 11. Moral Bankruptcy

Dylan finally caught up to us in the dairy section of the 
supermarket as I was trying to choose between skim milk (good for 
me) and whole milk with vitamin D (good for the boys). It was nearly 
twenty minutes after Kelly and I had gone into the store. Most of 
that time Dylan had been on the telephone with his mother. He 
grinned as he came up. "Hi guys,... Mom said to say thanks,... I 
guess for letting me call on your credit card and all... I think 
it made her pretty happy," Dylan said.

I smiled back at the boy. "No problem. I think she needs to 
know that everything is okay and you're having a good time. You 
are, aren't you," I teased.

Dylan gave me a cheeky grin and nodded and then looked into 
the shopping cart, already half-filled. He saw the breakfast cereal 
I had picked out, "Special K" and you could see his distaste as his 
little nose wrinkled playfully, "Yuck, this stuff is truly gross 
man."

I grinned, giving in without a fight. "Okay Dyl, you and Kelly 
go pick up something that you both like,... just go easy on the 
sugar okay."

He grinned and headed off with Kelly. I put the whole milk 
with vitamin D into the cart. At least they'd get a few things that 
were good for them. The boys came back with breakfast cereal. It 
was a box of sugar coated cereal, "Fruit Loops" or something like 
that. "Yuck," I teased. "You guys really aren't going to eat that 
stuff are you?" Kelly and Dylan grinned and they nodded together. 
"Okay, well I guess you guys are old enough to make some decisions 
for yourselves.

They both smiled, and took off again. They reappeared about a 
minute later with a packet of cheese-filled hot-dogs, dropped it 
in the shopping cart, giggled and took off again. The two boys fed 
on each other, each boy providing inspiration and a challenge to 
the other. For the next ten minutes they ran back and forth through 
the store, sometimes returning the things I had already picked up, 
though I expected that they usually just dumped the stuff somewhere 
where it didn't belong, always bringing back new acquisitions that 
were more to the liking of pre-teen boys. I couple of times I had 
to ask them to quieten down before they scared some poor old lady 
half to death as they hurtled down the aisles. But it was all in 
fun, mostly they were more interested in having a good time than 
in actually buying anything. I said no to a few of the things that 
the boys brought back but they got away with murder. Still, it was 
a holiday for them as much as for me.

I was fairly certain that we'd bought just about everything 
in the store and I started towards the check-out. I was just about 
to go through the check-out, although Kelly was dragging along 
behind looking at something or other, when Dylan came up beside me 
as said quietly, "I want to ask you something?"

"Kind of personal huh?" I teased.

He grinned, "Yeah, kinda." He stretched up and I bent forward 
slightly and he whispered, "That KY stuff, or whatever it was that 
you told me about,... you know for making me slippery back 
there,..." I nodded, "Well,... do you think they'd have something 
like that here?"

I shrugged uncertainly, "Maybe. It's probably over in that 
section if they do," I said, pointing vaguely towards the other 
side of the store where we had seen the array of drug-store-related 
things. "Why?" I teased, "You got something in mind?" I stopped 
pushing the cart forward and pulled back into the aisle we'd just 
come from.

Dylan gave me a cheeky grin, "Yeah!" he whispered, then looked 
around before he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "The same thing 
you've got in mind."

I grinned at the young boy, "You really want the KY? It was a 
lot of fun just with the Crisco wasn't it? And we already know 
Vaseline works okay."

Dylan smirked at me, blushing slightly as he remembered. 
"Yeah! The other stuff is okay, at least the Vaseline is, but I 
don't wanna use the oil again for a while, okay?"

I remembered the wonderful lubricity I had experienced inside 
the boy's taut young body only hours ago. It had been overwhelming 
as my penis had slid back and forth inside the oil-slicked tube of 
the boy's rectum, the excess oil spilling out until my entire groin 
and most of Dylan seemed to be covered in a glistening slippery 
film. "Why not Dylan? It didn't hurt did it?" I asked nervously.

Dylan shook his golden-blond head and said hesitantly, "It 
didn't hurt at the time,... it was really nice,... better than at 
the farm even.... But when I woke up I,... well I didn't like it 
that much, okay?"

"But why?" I asked, "It looked fine back there at breakfast. 
Your hole was pretty big of course and it looked like it was a bit 
swollen and bruised... I think,... well considering what we did,... 
well,... it probably ought to be a bit sore after that."

Dylan swallowed nervously, thought for a second, then said 
slowly, "It isn't sore,... well a bit okay... If you really must 
know,... when I woke up I felt awful,... like in my belly,... you 
know when you have to go to the bathroom. I just made it in time. 
I never pooped like that before. It wasn't like diarrhea, it kind 
of exploded out in big lumps at first,... then it got really watery. 
It was gross,... and real smelly too. I pooped a whole lot,... and 
even after it stopped coming out I kept on getting cramps like you 
get with diarrhea."

I looked at Dylan, "Jesus, Dylan, I'm sorry. Why didn't you 
say something you poor bugger?" I turned the cart around and headed 
back down the aisle towards Kelly, still wandering along looking 
at just about everything.

"I thought I was going die,... it felt so bad. I felt better  
as soon as I'd finished,... like I was all emptied out inside. I 
thought about telling you but,... well I guess I didn't want to 
worry you and make you think I was sick or something like that." 
The boy smiled shyly, slightly embarrassed, "Later on I kind of 
figured out that it probably was the oil,... because nothing like 
that happened before when we used the other stuff. At first,... 
well I thought it was,... well because we did it for such a long 
while,... a whole hour,... and maybe something got hurt inside me."

I nodded, steering the cart with one hand, my other arm around 
Dylan's shoulders as he walked beside me. "I guess it acted like 
an enema,... it made your poop loosen up. Well,... next time we 
know better,... no more oil from now on okay?"

Dylan looked up at me awkwardly, "I don't want to never do it 
again like that but,... only,... well maybe we shouldn't use so 
much of it next time." 

"Well anyway Dylan," I smiled, "I think you're right about the 
KY. It's probably a lot better for you. Let's see if we can find 
some."

Dylan walked beside me and Kelly dragged along in the rear. 
Lubricants were exactly where you'd expect to find them. Below the 
condoms and just above the ovulation and pregnancy tests. At least 
that's where you'd find them in most of the U.S., but in the 
backwoods of Kentucky, where selling booze is illegal, I didn't 
know what to expect. The funny thing was that I was embarrassed. 
Here I was shopping with an incredibly beautiful twelve-year-old 
boy and I was buying KY. I stopped the cart a few feet further up 
the aisle, past the KY, looked behind us to make sure that no one 
was watching, then I backtracked and picked up two tubes of KY, the 
6 oz. kind in the cardboard box. I even pointed the condoms out to 
Dylan remembering our earlier talk about sex. 

I don't know about boys today. When I was twelve I had a good 
idea what condoms were for but Dylan was completely uninterested. 
I guess all he wanted was the KY but the idea of 'doing it' with 
him and having a piece of rubber stretched over my cock wasn't that 
appealing to me either. As Kelly caught up we headed back up towards 
the check-out. Picking the right check-out was a bit of a problem. 
Only three were open. One was 'manned' by someone who looked like 
the assistant store manager, the other by a girl in her late teens, 
and the other by an a black woman, somewhere between thirty and 
forty, if I had to guess.

The manager type was a definite no-no. He probably stocked the 
shelves. The girl was a good bet, she'd probably never had a use 
for a lubricant other than what she produced herself. The problem 
was that she might know what KY was used for. By myself, I wouldn't 
have batted an eye, and walked right on through, but with Dylan 
right next to me, Kelly too for that matter, it seemed terribly 
obvious that I needed it for one, or both of the boys.

The black woman, would she know or wouldn't she? That was the 
question. For a moment I considered sending Dylan and Kelly outside 
until I was though the checkout. But hell, for all she knew I needed 
it for my wife, or girlfriend, or.... I went into her check-out and 
Dylan helped get the things out of the cart. Kelly looked over the 
display of candy but knew better than to ask. I made sure that the 
KY was buried somewhere in the middle of our groceries, hoping it 
would go through the scanner unnoticed. Incredibly, everything went 
smoothly, she rang the total, I paid and we pushed the cart, now 
full of paper bags, out to the car. I breathed a sigh of relief as 
soon as we were safely outside.

By the time we had finished shopping the sky had started to 
cloud up, suddenly getting much darker in the west, a clear sign 
that a thunder storm was brewing. I drove back to the boat as fast 
as I could, assigned bags for the boys to carry and hurried down 
to the marina. I couldn't tell how long before the storm would break 
but it was obviously headed in our direction. Once everything was 
aboard I gave serious thought to staying at the marina for the 
night. It would curtail our activities for the evening but it would 
be a lot easier than facing a storm out on the lake. The boys 
decided for me.

"You want me to untie the rope at the front," Dylan asked.

"Huh?" I said. "Oh! Well it looks like a storm, I was thinking 
that maybe we should stay here tonight.".

"Well you did promise," Dylan said.

Kelly nodded, "Yeah, Dad. You said we were going back to where 
we stayed last night. You promised. Dylan and I like it there."

I smiled and gave in, there was still some time before the 
storm arrived. "Okay, Dylan," I said, "You know what to do, go up 
there and let go the rope when I say. Kelly, you keep watch behind 
me."

The boys jumped, eager to get back to the little bay they'd 
named KayDee Bay, and I started the engines. As soon as we were in 
the channel I sent the boys down into the cabin to start putting 
things away. I opened the throttles wide open on the twin fifty 
horsepower Evinrudes and headed back across the lake at full speed. 
The sky was getting even darker as I reached the other side, turning 
an almost greenish color, and I could hear the threatening roll of 
thunder in the distance. I almost missed the break in the shoreline 
that led into our bay. Once inside the narrow opening I cut the 
engines and drifted until the boat stopped. I went forward, dropped 
the anchor, then went into the cabin just as the first huge 
raindrops started splattering on the deck. Perfect timing. The boys 
had finished unpacking the things we'd bought and were sitting on 
the couch looking at the two "Super Heroes" comic books  they had 
tossed into the cart.

Dylan looked up with a grin, "Just made that, huh?"

I nodded, "You're not wrong Dylan. Won't be able to go 
swimming now though."

The boys shrugged. For the moment at least comic books won 
over swimming and playing on the shore. In the little bay, we were 
protected. Through the window we could see the trees at the tops 
of the surrounding hills being tossed in the wind, but where we 
were moored was calm. I went to the refrigerator, actually more 
like an ice chest, and retrieved a beer. I had only brought a dozen, 
but who would have expected that this would be a dry county. I went 
over to the boys and sat on the only other chair, watching them 
recline on the couch, now completely absorbed by the comics. They 
were quiet at last.

Dylan looked sexy, he was dressed in his black tee shirt and 
shorts. His golden-blond hair seemed to glisten even in the dim 
light provided by the cabin lights. His hands seemed so small, his 
fingers deftly turning the pages, then pausing as he read the 
captions. His arms were slender, even browner than they had been 
only hours ago. I could not look away even I had wanted to. It was 
as if the boy had a magnetic power, demanding my complete 
attention. His body seemed so small, so fragile, so innocent. His 
legs were slightly apart, slender and as brown as his arms, 
disappearing into his shorts, leading upward to the most wonderful 
part of him, the small, ever-present little bulge that was revealed 
by the folds in the soft cotton. He radiated sex. It seemed to come 
from every part of him, from every motion. Dylan lay on his side 
next to Kelly, supporting his head on one hand, his elbow pressing 
into the couch only a fraction of an inch from Kelly's bare leg. 

After about five minutes Dylan looked up suddenly from his 
comic book, caught my eyes and grinned. He pushed the comic book 
away, momentarily sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, brushed 
the hair back from his forehead, wriggled on the couch, stretched 
and arched his back like a cat, smiled at me again, and finally 
said, "Well?"

I smiled back. I tried to read the boy's mind, concentrating 
my entire being as I focused on him, "Huh?" I said absently.

Dylan smiled, "Well?" He slowly came out of his reclining 
position and sat up, stretched his arms back and yawned, then his 
eyes met mine again. The 'magnetism' was overpowering. I watched 
the boy breathe deeply, in and then out, letting out a little sigh 
that conveyed as much to me as anything he could have said. He 
glanced at the doorway that led back to the bedroom, then his eyes 
returned to mine.

"Well?" I said teasingly. Dylan smiled shyly. "You bored 
kiddo?" I added playfully. Dylan raised his eyebrows slightly, 
meaningfully, knowingly.

"I am," Kelly piped in. "It's too soon for dinner. What are 
we gonna do now?"

I grinned, "What do you guys want to do?" I asked.

"I dunno," Kelly said, "Maybe watch TV, I guess,... or play 
games,... we did bring some,... I know we did."

I nodded, "I think they're in the bedroom. You can get one if 
you want."

Kelly scrambled to his feet and started into the next room. 
There was a disappointed look on Dylan's face that was much like 
the look on mine. "Heh, Kelly, hold on a sec', I've got a better 
idea. How about we play cards instead," I said quickly, suddenly 
remembering that I'd seen a deck of cards somewhere on the boat.

"Well,... can't we play Monopoly or something else. I don't 
know how to play cards," Kelly replied.

I glanced at Dylan. The older boy shrugged. The last thing I 
wanted to do was play Junior Monopoly. "Okay, well I'll teach you. 
You want to play cards Dylan?"

"Yeah! I guess so... But I don't know how to play either," 
Dylan added.

I laughed, suddenly remembering where I'd seen the cards. They 
were in the bedroom, in the drawer next to the bed. I told Kelly 
where the cards were and he went off to get them. He came back a 
minute later and passed the box to me. I opened the box. The cards 
were still new, they had a picture of the marina on the back and 
the name and phone number of the rental company. I shuffled the 
deck clumsily, I was never much good at that. "Okay, so what do you 
guys want to learn first? Poker?" The boys looked at me without 
much interest. I grinned, "Okay,... how about,... strip poker?"

That piqued Dylan's interest, "Huh?"

"Strip poker,... we play for clothes." I smiled at the boy and 
raised my eyebrows, "You lose a hand, you lose a piece of clothing. 
The last person to be naked, wins."

The boys giggled. "Yeah?" Dylan smirked as the idea grew in 
his mind, "Wins what?" he added.

The boy had me there, what on earth did one win with strip 
poker, other than seeing the other guys strip. I shrugged as I 
thought, "Oh I don't know. I guess anything. We'd have to decide 
that I s'pose."

Kelly and Dylan grinned at each other and then at me. "Okay, 
I know," Dylan smirked, then added, "The winner gets what ever he 
wants, okay?"

I laughed, the boy was catching on fast. "Okay that's fair." 
Kelly nodded his agreement. I placed the cards into three almost 
equal piles, then distributed them to the boys and myself. I 
figured that we each had seven pieces of clothing to lose. "The 
rules are really simple guys, I'll teach you as we go. If you lose 
a hand, you have to take off one piece of clothing,... and each 
sock or shoe counts as one piece." The boys exchanged grins. I put 
down the first card, a Ten of Hearts. "Okay Dylan, your turn." He 
put down a Three of Spades. "Now you Kelly."

He turned the card over slowly, looking at it as he peeled it 
away. It was a Jack of Diamonds. I grinned. "Okay, now when someone 
puts down a card like this, either a Jack, or a Queen, or a King 
or an Ace, then the next person has to put cards down on top of it. 
Like I have to put one card on Kelly's Jack. If it was a Queen I'd 
put two, three on a King and four cards on an Ace." I drew a card, 
it was a Six of Hearts. "Now I lose this hand so I have to take off 
a piece of clothing." The boys giggled as I kicked off a shoe. "Now 
Dylan you go next."

The game continued for about ten minutes, amid a lot of 
giggles and teasing, until Kelly and I were down to our shorts and 
Dylan still had the additional cover of his tee shirt. On the next 
hand Dylan dropped a Jack of Spades onto the pile. Slowly Kelly 
lifted up the next card, then grinning cheekily, dropped a Nine of 
Hearts on the pile. My son giggled sheepishly, glanced at me, and 
stood up. Without a word he pulled his shorts downward, letting 
them slide down his little brown legs to his feet. He stepped out 
of them, dressed only in his bikini-briefs. Like me, and I expected 
like Dylan, he was as hard as a rock, his little penis sticking 
outward and upward in the taut patterned nylon, the tiny head 
clearly outlined in the thin material by the little ridge around 
it. He smirked and then sat down on the couch again.

On the next round it was my turn to drop the shorts. I followed 
Kelly's example and stood up, shucking my shorts to the amusement 
of the two boys. My penis was fully erect and it stuck up under the 
elastic waist-band of my briefs. The boys chortled as my penis came 
into view, the swollen purplish head and about two more inches 
poking out. I laughed with them, pushing it to one side so that it 
was covered before I sat down again. We played two more rounds until 
I played an Ace to Dylan and he wasn't able to cover it. He grinned 
at me and slid out of his tee shirt, pulling it upward over his 
head and then he tossed it at me playfully. The cloth was still 
warm from the contact with his beautiful young body.

On the next round Dylan played a Queen of Diamonds. Kelly 
peeled a Five from his cards first, smiled at Dylan and then slowly 
lifted up a Seven of Spades. He hesitated. "Go on Kelly, drop 'em," 
Dylan laughed. My son blushed slightly as he stood up. Slowly his 
hands moved to his sides, then lifting the thin elastic waist-band 
outward and away from the small spike that jutted from his pubis. 
He tugged them down, all the way to the floor before he straightened 
up. His penis was rigid, perhaps harder than it had ever been. Tiny 
blue ripples marked the swollen veins, the skin so delicate that 
it seemed almost transparent. His scrotum was still loose, the 
rounded shape of his little testicles visible in the soft pink 
folds. I gazed at my naked son. Nearly seven, his little body was 
perfectly proportioned, his thighs and pelvis already a bit darker 
from his exposure to the sun that afternoon. Kelly giggled, his 
hand coming instinctively to his penis, stroking himself gently, 
as he looked at Dylan and me, shamelessly but naturally excited. 
Then his fingers moved around so that they were supporting his 
immature testicles, cupping them, squeezing as gently as he could. 
He looked anxiously at me for a few seconds. The room was suddenly 
very quiet. I smiled at Kelly and he smiled back and then he flopped 
back down on the couch, now out of the game. 

Dylan was one piece of clothing behind me and I took it on 
that round. He stripped off his shorts the same way that Kelly and 
I had, standing up and looking at me, holding my gaze for an 
instant, then deliberately, slowly, pulling then down his thighs. 
Like Kelly he was wearing his new patterned bikini-briefs. His 
penis was sticking out too, pulling the nylon into tight, small  
folds from between his legs, his ball-sac forming a little rounded 
hemisphere below. Dylan and I grinned at each other, we were now 
on an even footing. I drew the next card, an Eight of Hearts. 
Dylan's card was a King of Clubs. I played two losers. The third 
card I drew slowly, watching the boy's eyes as he tried to peek. I 
sighed, breathing out in relief. It was the Jack of Hearts. Dylan 
looked up suddenly, seriously, challenging me with a silent stare. 
He knew I hadn't cheated but he tried to pretend anger. "You 
cheated," he accused me playfully.

I laughed and shook my head, "Your turn kiddo," I teased.

Dylan shook his head, then he smiled at me cheekily. He lifted 
up his next card so that I couldn't see it and peeked underneath. 
Then he looked back at me, his eyes alight with a sudden surge of 
excitement. I saw a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, his 
little dimples suddenly appearing as if by magic. Then slowly he 
turned the card over. It was the Two of Hearts.

I smiled at Dylan and he stood up, his little hard penis making 
a pointed tent in his briefs. His hands came to his hips, slipped 
under the waist-band and pulled down slowly, his eyes meeting mine 
as I watched intently. The tip of his penis caught under the elastic 
and was pulled downward, then suddenly it sprang free and snapped 
back up, slapping against his lower belly. It seemed loud in the 
silent room. I watched as Dylan completed the motion, pushing his 
bikini-briefs all the way to the floor. Then the boy stood up 
straight again, his lithe slender body as straight and full of life 
as the little hard penis that throbbed between his legs. He was 
beautiful. He stood still and silent, waiting as my eyes travelled 
up and down, taking in every precious inch of him. Now naked, he 
was freed from the inhibitions that come with clothes. He flexed 
his penis, making it jerk slightly, hungrily, his scrotum 
tightening and drawing his testicles upward for the merest fraction 
of an inch. The boy's sexuality was overpowering.

"You win!" Dylan said huskily as he grinned. My eyes came back 
to his. "You get whatever you want."

I half-closed my eyes, pretending to think, "Hmmmm! Whatever 
I want?" I said, trying hard to control my voice.

"Huh huh!" Dylan said, his voice becoming urgent as he 
breathed deeply.

I stood up, "Well,... what if,... I want,... you?" I said 
slowly as I stood up and took a step forward.

The boy breathed out, "Huh huh!" he whispered.

I could see his chest rising and falling, his ribs outlined 
in the smooth brown skin, the firm muscles of his belly almost 
quivering. The boy swallowed, then his little pink tongue came out 
and he licked his bottom lip. Desire, lust, love, cascaded through 
my mind. I could have whatever I wanted. What I wanted, Dylan wanted 
as well. Kelly, now excluded from the 'game', was sprawled out on 
the couch. He twisted around and looked up at us silently, his 
attention now diverted away from his comic book, even if only 
briefly. I reached forward and gently took Dylan's hand and drew 
the boy slowly, inexorably towards me. As his body brushed lightly 
against mine it felt as though something arced between us. He was 
warm and alive, bursting with the energy of youth, spilling into 
my body and renewing me. I stooped slightly, placing my left arm 
behind his knees, my right arm around his narrow shoulders, and I 
lifted the naked twelve-year-old boy up in my arms. This beautiful 
boy was mine, mine to love and to cherish and to enjoy.

I stood there looking down at Dylan as he lay back in my arms. 
He was excited. From his breathing, from the rapid movement of his 
eyes, from the beating of his heart, from the unmistakable tremble, 
I knew he was excited. He was happy and eager. For a moment we 
looked into each other's eyes, sharing our thoughts silently. 
Outside the storm had passed, now there was just the steady, 
peaceful sound of rain falling on the deck above us. Carefully I 
carried the boy through the doorway and into the bedroom. I left 
the door open. Kelly knew enough to leave us alone and even if he 
didn't, I knew that my son would see nothing that he had not already 
seen. I placed Dylan on the bed, then kneeled over him, straddling 
his slender legs. Lying there on the white sheets the boy looked 
innocent, almost virginal, perfect in every way. His arms reached 
up for me, his hands locking behind my neck, pulling me down to 
him. The kiss was sweet and gentle at first, then as our passion 
grew, his mouth became wetter and his little tongue became more 
active. We kissed and kissed, longer and harder than we'd ever 
kissed before.

When we parted after long and very wet minutes we were both 
trembling, our hearts pounding rapidly, our cocks throbbing, aching 
for relief. The boys had placed the KY on the night-stand beside 
the bed. One box was already opened and the tube had been taken 
out. The plastic cap was back in place but I could see that it had 
been squeezed, even if only slightly, but such is a boy's 
curiosity. I picked it up and flicked the cap back, then squeezed, 
watching the crystalline jelly ooze out onto the fingers of my 
right hand, a long thin glistening diamond. Dylan watched with 
fascination, then as I placed the tube back on the night-stand he 
rolled over, twisting so that he lay on his belly, his little 
buttocks lifted up slightly, waiting. I settled beside the boy, one 
leg over his, parting his crack with my fingers and smearing most 
of the gel directly into and around the small soft place in the 
center of his crack. The boy was serene as he felt the pressure of 
my finger, then suddenly I penetrated him and he sighed as my finger 
sank into him.

When Dylan was ready he let me know, his sighs becoming more 
intense, his breathing coming in spurts, then when he started 
working his hips obscenely I used more KY to lubricate my penis. 
Getting that first inch of my penis inside Dylan is always the 
hardest. It's painful more often than not because the boy's body 
has to yield and accept the presence of my penis while his anal 
band tries to resist. But once inside, I gave him a few minutes to 
adjust. The tension faded slowly and I began to increase the 
pressure, sinking into him a fraction of inch at a time until five 
inches of my penis was inside him. Then I began moving gently, 
letting Dylan's body relax momentarily after each forward thrust. 
Dylan trembled, quivered, shuddered, and cried, not in pain but in 
that incredible delight that began inside him and flowed through 
his young body.

We climaxed within seconds of each other, both of us shaking 
uncontrollably, my cock jerking wildly with exploding spasms. Then 
we collapsed, exhausted, our passion quietened at least for the 
present. I lay over Dylan, careful to take most of my weight on my 
elbows, but keeping my groin hard against his small pale cheeks. 
My cock softened and I felt the seal between us getting weaker. I 
was still part of Dylan's body, as he was still part of mine. After 
a long while I finally extricated my penis from its hot wet home 
and we dozed off, like lovers often do after sex, our hearts 
content, our bodies satisfied. Dylan was curled up with his head 
on my shoulder, one arm draped possessively across my chest, one 
leg over my thighs, just touching my genitals, his own immature sex 
organs pressed firmly into my side. 

It was nearly dark when I awoke and I was startled to see Kelly 
standing by the bed looking down at us. A moment later Dylan 
struggled awake, blinking and rubbing his eyes sleepily. The sweet 
musky smell of our love-making seemed heavy in the air. He smiled 
at Kelly. It was smile that conveyed his happiness, his affection 
for the other boy. In the faint light I barely saw my son's lips 
press together, the boy's desire evident in his hard short penis, 
his little brown chest rising and falling rhythmically. I reached 
out and took Kelly by the hand. Like Dylan, I saw a smile form at 
the corners of his mouth, then widen until he beamed happily. I was 
uncertain, I knew that psychologists would say the boy would be 
damaged, but I knew that it was something that Kelly wanted every 
bit as much as Dylan. He came willingly, drawn forward by my hand, 
down onto the bed. I reached back to the night-stand and picked up 
the tube of KY. We'd have to get more pretty quickly I realized as 
I passed it to Dylan and settled back in the pillows to watch.







..........................THE END...........................









Epilogue.

After three wonderful weeks on the houseboat both Dylan and Kelly had
sun tans you wouldn't believe (head to toe, and everything in between).
Dylan's hair was silver-blonde and Kelly's was a couple of shades
lighter as well. They were both very happy boys and a close friendship
had developed between them, despite the difference in their ages.

Both Dylan and his mother live with Kelly and me now. The 
relationship that was formed during the three weeks aboard the 
honeymooner was so strong and so positive that we had little choice 
but to establish 'something more permanent'. I was divorced shortly 
after our return. It turned out that my wife had met someone else 
during her forays and it was a mutual separation.

Dylan is now fifteen, he's nearly five foot four inches tall 
and is about one year into puberty. He sends his love! Kelly turned 
ten only a few weeks ago. Like Dylan, my son is a very sexy boy 
(with Dylan and only Dylan).