Date: Fri, 26 Feb 2016 06:52:59 +0000 (GMT)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Teaching Stuff to Spencer, Chapter 2

TEACHING STUFF TO SPENCER
CHAPTER 2
By Zachyboy
M/b, mast, oral, romantic

The following story is work of fiction. It involves sexual situations
between and adult male and an underage boy, and believe me, if that sounds
kind of exciting and daring, keep in mind, all the characters are actually
made up out of words on a computer screen, and therefore nobody really did
anything to anybody. Talk about a buzzkill.

Still, if reading this type of sheer fantasy is illegal where you live or
otherwise gets your goat, you should probably leave now, because some of us
are going to get down with our bad selves behind closed doors.

Please donate to the Nifty Archive Alliance whenever you can. It helps keep
this great, free story site up and running. There's nothing like it on
earth, and it deserves our financial respect and support.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

On with the show.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Over pancakes, it was clear that "Spencer was doing stuff with Kee's uncle
in the bedroom" was the talk of birthday party. The boys were laughing and
giggling and whispering. At first, Spencer smiled at all of this patiently
with a coy and unassuming smile. He'd just shot his watery boy jets and all
of these little numbnuts friends of his were still blue-balled. What did he
care if they talked and whispered?

I caught snippets of whispered innuendo as I stood at the griddle and
played Aunt Jemima.

Hunter, the 11-year-old ringleader of the group whispered to Kee, "I bet
your Uncle boned him up the butt. Did you notice how Spence is limping like
he just accidentally sat on something big?"

Kee whispered back, "It's not that big. It pokes me when we wrestle. I
mean, it's big, it's just not limping big." (Thanks a lot, kiddo). "Plus,
how would you accidentally fall on one? You'd have to aim."

Freckle-faced Eli, 11, tried to explain it to his little brother Landon, 9,
who wasn't quite getting it.

"So, wait," Landon whispered. "A guy can put a wiener up a kid's butt?"

"You gotta butter it up probably, but sure," Eli shrugged. "Like when Mom
can't get her ring off, she gets the butter out."

"Ewww," Landon said, making a grimace. "You mean Spencer's got all the
butter up his ass?"

Eli shrugged again. Made the "beats me" face.

"I am NOT having the pancakes today," Landon said, reaching for the
Cheerios instead.

Oliver, 11, was having nothing to do with the water cooler gossip. "Shhh,"
he whispered at one point from the other room. "His uncle's right in the
kitchen. He'll hear you talking about him."

Henry, 10, a little cock knocker in his own right and the confirmed
potty-mouth of the bunch responded, "Hey, a guy gives a kid a hump in the
rump, what's he think we're gonna talk about? Disney Channel?"

Owen, 11, seemed clueless. "What's a hump?" he asked.

"Like a camel, Owen," Henry said, rolling his eyes. "Only it fucks
you. Sheesh."

Wyatt, the 11-year-old boner boy of the group seemed the most intrigued of
all. He walked right up to me during round two of pancakes and said in a
low voice, "If you're doing stuff with Spencer, just so you know, you can
do stuff with me too." And then he just smiled and looked up hopefully. And
normally I would have took him by the hand, led him upstairs and taken him
up on the offer, but it was Spencer I was enamored with. And actually
getting worried about.

His smiles at the good-natured ribbing of the other boys had turned to
quiet contemplation, and after eating a few bites and smiling at me weakly,
he retired back out to the patio, sliding the door behind him, still in his
Speedo, but now with a t-shirt on top, sitting at the pool, feet and legs
dangled in.

I left the boys with stacks of flapjacks, cartons of juice and bottles of
grape soda, and slid my way outside to see if Spencer was
okay. Half-an-hour ago I'd had his little cock in my hand, jerking him to a
wild, exquisite and bumpy boygasm. Maybe it really was too much for him to
handle. Maybe I went too fast after all.

"Hey," I said, joining him poolside, sitting down and letting my feet
dangle next to his.

"Hey," he said back, not looking up.

His little toes slid over and he ran them across the side of mine. A soft
caress and a caring gesture. Underwater footsie with a lover's touch. Only
my lover was 11, and he looked scared.

"Are you okay?" I asked him quietly.

He shrugged in a way that broke my heart.

"I guess so," he whispered.

I felt crestfallen. I'd wanted everything to be so slow and gentle for
him. I'd never meant to hurt him or harm him or weird him out in any
way. He'd wanted to learn. I'd wanted to teach him.

"Did I go too fast?" I asked him, honestly pained to think I might have.

He did look up, and his eyes were brimming with tears.

"Oh, no," he smiled weakly. "I like what we did. A lot."

"Well, that's a relief," I told him. "Because I did too. It made me feel
really, really good inside."

Spencer was silent again.

"What's wrong then?" I asked him.

"I just didn't know there'd be this much teasing afterwards," he said. "I
didn't want everybody to know about it."

I rubbed his foot with mine underwater. Stroked his hair. Leaned down and
kissed it. Smelled it. Chlorine and boy salt. Dried sweat from a little boy
who just came.

"They're just being boys," I said. "Gross and dumb. They really don't know
we did anything. They're just giggling and guessing and talking big."

"Yeah," he said sadly. "I guess."

I kissed the top of his head again. My lips tasted salty and he smelled so
fresh and young and good, so unlike any adult I might try to love like
this. I mean I know I'm capable of loving a man. All the parts would
work. But a man wouldn't feel like Spencer. He wouldn't make me feel tears
in the back of my eyes. He wouldn't sound and smell and taste this way.

There's a reason they call us boylovers, you know. When a boy is with us
like this, all other input stops. Sensory experience becomes about the boy
we love and nothing else. Much of the outer world just simply vanishes, and
all that's left to us is the sweetest duet, profound and invaluable. We
feel nothing else by our heartbeat and their presence.

"Can I ask you something," Spencer said quietly.

I tipped his face up with a finger under his chin.

"You can ask me anything, Spence. Anything at all."

He blushed.

"I'm embarrassed."

"Hey," I said sincerely. "Don't be. There's nothing you need to be
embarrassed about with me. Ever."

He smiled weakly. Got up his nerve. I could tell he was looking for the
right words for it. He was searching for subtle. 11-year-old eloquence,
which is a hard voice to master. Finally, frustrated, he just came right
out and said it.

"They're all talking about butt fucking," he blushed. "Like that's what we
were doing up there."

I smiled and hugged him to me.

"Oh, Spence," I laughed gently. "They're just being boys. Dirty, funny,
horny little boys."

Spencer smiled. Laughed a little.

"Especially Hunter," he grumbled. "He asked me how big your dick was and if
it fit up my ass."

"What'd you tell him?" I smiled.

"I told him to find his own dick. Yours was taken."

My eyebrow arched.

"Then I held up the biggest banana on the counter, and I said, twice as big
as this, buttface...and then his jaw dropped open and he shut up."

I ruffled his head.

"Nicely done."

"Anyway, I'm just not ready for that part yet, okay?"

He looked at me. Challenging. Almost waiting for me to argue. I did not.

"Okay," I said simply. "I wasn't after that part anyway."

Now HIS eyebrow shot up.

"You don't want to butt fuck me?" he asked incredulously. "I thought all
gay guys liked to butt fuck and stuff."

"Well, yeah," I told him. "But it's not like the meter's running. We don't
have to run up the stairs and do it right now."

He giggled. "Good," he said. "Your cock's too big. It would never fit."

"Well," I said, "I think you'd be pleasantly surprised what fits when you
take your time and go slow."

He grinned at me again.

"Well anyway," he said. "No butt fucking right away. You gotta take me on
some dates first."

I laughed. Held my hands up.

"Fine," I told him. "Fine, fine. I'll keep my dick in my pants and out of
your butt."

"Well, you don't have to keep it in your pants," he said quickly. "Just
don't aim it in my ass the next time we do stuff."

"We're gonna do more stuff?" I asked him hopefully.

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "Way more stuff. I just wanted to take my butt off the
table."

I smiled at him. Ruffled his hair again. Kissed his head and basked in the
Saturday morning scent of him.

"Let's go in," I told him, rubbing his foot with mine. A gentle rub. A
lover's touch.

I saw Kee standing at the patio door watching us, an odd look on his
face. And a few steps back in the kitchen, my sister Abby, confused or
disapproving, I couldn't tell which.

I didn't care. I had boylover butterflies in my stomach, but Spencer seemed
more important than anything right now. Even their curiosity. Even their
need to know.

"Let them talk," I said, rubbing his soft, white shoulder and tracing my
finger along a tendon in his neck. "Whatever we do is private," I promised
him. "Let them giggle and let them talk."

"Horny fuckers, right?" he smiled, and he went back in before me.

I watched his tight little ass sashay in a t-shirt just a little too long
for him and shook my head in disbelief. Abby saw me do it. I smiled
sheepishly and shrugged.

"Dan," she said, after Spencer had rejoined the other kids, "You didn't
really do anything with that little boy upstairs, did you?"

"All I can tell you, Abs, is his ass is off the table. He made that
perfectly clear."

She sighed and handed me a dishtowel. "Well, whatever that means, wash your
griddle," she grumbled. "And try not to get arrested before the party is
over."

I shrugged and held my hands up in classic "what's a guy to do?" innocence.

I mean, Abby knows all about my propensity for boylove. She's my sister, I
love her, and we talk about everything. So the fact that boys have made my
motor race since I was 15 has been discussed to death in philosophical
terms. I just don't think she ever anticipated seeing it in
action. Particularly not in her son's bedroom, with a load of giggly boys
outside the door. But once a boylover, always a boylover. She knew
that. That's how she got me to chaperone this dick-leaking all-boy party in
the first place.

Spencer smiled at me from across the room. Just watching him breathe, just
seeing his tiny chest rise and fall under his t-shirt send thousands of
volts through me. He was talking with Landon. Being kind. Even the kindness
in his eyes aroused me. And not my dick. I don't mean that. I meant it
aroused my heart.

"Sorry, Abs," I said to her. "You don't put nine little chocolates on the
table and ask a starving man not to nibble on at least one."

She shook her head and walked off. Too much, too soon probably. But she'd
come around. She was my best friend. She knew about all this. How I was
inside.

And Spencer. My God, he made my heart ache. I wanted to be Landon right
then at that moment, just to be on the receiving end of such monumental and
effortless kindness.

I wanted to pop him in my mouth, close my eyes and say "mmmm," right then
and right there. Let him melt on my tongue and fill up my senses with
sweet, delicious overload.

My heart beat erratically in my chest and my eyes painted him with so much
love he could feel it like brush strokes, warming and soothing him when he
looked at me. He blushed. He could feel it.

You know you truly love a boy when he can feel your heart's brush strokes
from thirty feet away, across a crowded room. That's what a boylover does,
after all.

We paint from a distance.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Time marches on so quickly where boys are concerned. Today they're the
innocent, curious creatures who fall in love with you for so many reasons
beyond the sexual. They crave the attention and the time that you give by
just being present with them in whatever it is they are doing. In today's
world, we've almost forgotten how to truly be "present" with others. With
boys, that window is so very short. They'll outgrow you before you can even
catch your breath.

In my heart, a heart that had already fallen completely in love with
Spencer, I knew that my time was fleeting and I wanted to make every moment
with him count. And so I made good on my promise to "date" him.

It was such an adorable request, that desire to spend time together
"getting to know one another," as if I hadn't already had my hand on his
sweet little cock in Kee's bedroom.

But the truth of the matter was, I just wanted to spend every waking moment
with this boy, no matter what the circumstances. Just to be near him caused
my heart to leap with joy.

So I worked through Abby to arrange some Saturday outings with Kee and
Spencer. I love my nephew, but I really wanted to spend time with Spencer
one-on-one, but knew that for the sake of appearances I needed other boys
along for the ride. And if Kee wanted to bring along one of his other
buddies, that would be fine with me.

That first Saturday we planned a morning of miniature golf and video games,
followed by lunch at Spencer's favorite fast food restaurant Burgers and
More.

I picked the boys up at my sister's at nine o'clock that morning and the
three of us headed out for our adventure. Kee seemed happy to be spending
time with me, but Spencer was a bit quiet on the ride over to the course. I
was already to attuned to his moods and his presence, that I knew he was
uncomfortable. I think the fact that Kee was joining us made him jealous
for some reason.

Once we arrived the boys piled out and requested, no, make that demanded,
that I get some tokens so that they could play games in the arcade before
we went outside to the golf course. Not one to deny either of these boys a
request, I shelled out the twenty bucks to buy them each 40 tokens.

Armed with their key to video heaven, they darted from game to game,
leaving me to watch in amazement. And watch I did. Even from across the
room Spence caused my heart to beat more rapidly and when he occasionally
looked my way, blushed ever so slightly and gave me that hint of a smile, I
wanted to collapse in need and gratitude

At one point while Kee was busy winning an obscene number of token tickets
on the other side of the room, Spence came up and gently grabbed me by the
hand.

Have you ever truly been in love with a boy? If you have, then you'll
understand the high you feel when he does something as simple and profound
as taking your hand. The touch of his skin against mine.....in that moment,
everyone and everything faded into the background. All that mattered was my
hand in Spencer's. It was as if time was standing still.

My reverie was broken when I realized Spencer was looking at me and
speaking.

"I need to go to the bathroom"

"Sure Spence, no problem. Go ahead"

Spence cut his eyes up at me with a look of exasperation on his face.

"Can you go with me?"  And then in a quieter tone, "I want you to go with
me"

And like a thunderbolt, realization dawned on me what he was asking.

"Oh yeah, sure I can do that"

And that is how I found myself in the restroom of the local miniature golf
course with the boy who had stolen my heart.

No sooner had the door closed and I had thrown the latch, than Spencer
grabbed me around the middle and hugged me tightly

"I missed you so much. I was hoping today would just be me and you"

How do you explain the complexities of public appearances to a boy who
lives on emotion and need. How do you explain how things look to others?

"Oh Spence, I know. It's hard for us to be alone. We'll figure it out."

I could see a bit of fear in his eyes as they moistened with tears. And I
realized that he was feeling insecure, unsure that I really cared about
him. I think he wanted to know that I loved him and not just his cock. That
he meant something to me.

I gently wiped away the tear that sliding down his cheek and my heart
nearly broke thinking that I had hurt Spencer or caused him to be confused.

"I love you so much, Spencer. I promise. I'll find a way we can be alone
together."

And I lifted up his chin with my fingers and without thinking, leaned down
and gently kissed his sweet lips. Not a passionate kiss, but a kiss of
reassurance.

I pulled back and looked into his eyes and saw a need and a hunger there
and I shocked and excited me at the same time.

I leaned back down for another kiss, this time lingering for a few more
seconds....longer that I probably should have because Spence whimpered into
my mouth and pressed himself hard against me, letting me feel how hard his
cock has gotten in the space of that one kiss.

And I let my lips part and my tongue touch the edges of Spencer's mouth. He
responded instantly, letting his own lips part and his tongue press
tentative against mine, testing, teasing, searching to see if our private
moments at the birthday party were more than just a passing fancy.

I answered back with an insistent thrust of my tongue into his sweet mouth,
flavored by the root beer he had been drinking in the arcade.

Passionate kissing....letting Spencer touch my cock through my pants, but
stopping him before we went too far.

I was supposed to be the "adult in the room", but I felt increasingly lost
in Spencer's presence, so much so that I was likely not doing a very good
job of concealing my affection for him.

We left the bathroom, lost in each other, neither of us noticing Kee
standing off to the side, empty token cup in his hand, watching our every
move with a hurt look on his face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't love boys.

When did it start? In the Kindergarten coat room, when I hugged Marky Kane
longer than two boys should hug, but I didn't even care because it felt so
good to hug him?

In first grade, when my loose tooth came out in music class and Julian
Barillo called me brave because I didn't even stop the song and ask for a
Kleenex to dab the blood drops?

I loved those boys even then, with a love I can't describe in any other
terms you can understand. If you don't know what it is in someone's soul
that makes them love boys through their whole existence and timeline, from
then to now, I could hardly hope to explain it in a paragraph of prose.

To men like us, boys are simply beyond compare. Perfect like sunsets and
holy like angels. The mere sight of a boy brings a lump to our
throat. Makes us dizzy. Makes us stop breathing until we gasp in boy
apnea. It makes us want to cry because they're so impossibly beautiful and
we can never, ever have them. We don't want to harm them. We want to fold
them into our hearts and merge into them.

Harm them? We're in awe of them.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

"You're really not in love with that boy, are you Dan?" my sister asked me
while we sat alone sharing a bottle of wine on her couch. Kee was off at a
friend's overnight. Wyatt. The boner boy who'd all but offered himself to
me.

"I don't know, Abs. I don't know what to tell you."

"Dan. He's 11."

"I know he's 11."

"Like Dane was 11."

Dane was the boy I loved when I was 15-years-old. He was a neighbor boy
from down the street who'd moved into our neighborhood that summer, and
he'd captured my eye, and my heart, immediately.

Abby walked in on us accidentally, upstairs in my teenage bedroom with the
shades pulled down and our clothes on the floor, with me making love to
Dane on my bed with no covers over us. His eyes were closed. His neck was
tilted back and I was kissing it, spooning him, as my cock slowly slid in
and out of his hairless, tiny bottom.

She closed the door quietly out of embarrassed respect. I was too enamored
to worry. I finished making love to him. Kissed him and caressed him for
another sweet hour. Whispered secrets and promises to him. Brought him to
two dry climaxes with my mouth. Loved him again. Swirled my semen inside
him. Mixed it with the semen I'd already left there. Only then did we dress
and part ways, leaving me to explain my gayness and my love of boys to my
teenage sister. She was cool and accepting like she always was.

She'd had intergenerational relationships too. With a teacher that
summer. With our dad a little. With me, once, until we knew it wouldn't
work. She was not one to judge at 16, going on 30. Her sexual existence was
as complicated as mine. And her teenage bed was not empty either on
certain, humid, hot summer days, or fan-cooled quiet nights when our daddy
needed love.

"But Spencer's 11 and you're not 15 anymore," she said to me quietly,
bringing me back to the present. "This is something else now, Dan. This
has...well...legal difficulties."

"I know," I nodded. "I think he understands that."

"Just be careful," she said, sipping her wine and looking at me
thoughtfully. "It's not the right world for this Danny. I don't want
you..." she struggled, "I don't want you...caught. We need you."

"Yeah," I said, swirling the sweet moscato and taking a small drink. It was
fruity on my tongue, and rich and renewing, like Spencer's kisses. Even
now, all I could think of was holding him. My sister's concern couldn't
even deflate the aching pull of my open-ended yearning to see him again. To
finish what we'd started.

"Kee's really hurt, you know," she said.

She said it quietly, not accusingly, just a simple statement of fact.

"What?" my eyebrow raised. "He's hurt? From what?"

"The attention you give Spence. The time you spend with him. The golf
course. The arcade. The bathroom. You shut him out. Left him in the
hallway."

"Oh God, Abs. I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I've been so – "

"Lost in him?" she said quietly. "Lost in Spencer?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling like a heel. I'd never meant to leave my beautiful
nephew behind. It's just that Spencer...well. Spencer was quickly becoming
my everything.

"He's curious, Dan."

I nodded, believing her.

"He's curious about the relationship. He's certainly curious about the sex
part. He's a boy, you know. And he's not naïve. He's active now. He
masturbates. He does it quietly at night. He thinks I can't hear him. But I
do. He makes little noises."

I shivered a little. "I wondered if he was old enough."

"He whispers your name sometimes when he does it."

I didn't know what to say. Her casual mention of such a thing floored me. I
was caught off guard for a moment and blushed at the thought. My little
nephew pleasuring himself and thinking of me.

"Wow," I said simply, and the silence ticked on.

Abby refilled her wine glass and touched my cheek. Cool like she always
was.

"So...just be careful with his heart, Dan."

"Okay," I said.

"Both their hearts," she said. "Be careful you don't hurt them. This is
grown-up math for boys who just learned to add."

I nodded. I agreed.

"Be careful with the rest of them too," she added ambiguously. "Not just
their hearts, but the rest of them."

"I will," I pledged, and my oath was sincere. "I promise."

Made in love from a brother to his best friend, it's a promise I've kept to
this day.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

In the days ahead, I took Spencer and Kee to the movies, to the food court
at the mall, to laser tag, to mini golf, and I tried to divide my public
attention to them evenly. I wanted no more hurt feelings, no more of my
nephew aching inside because I clearly loved one of his friends in a way I
didn't love him. Or did I love Kee that way too, but I was too scared to
admit it? Spencer was one step removed. Kee was flesh and blood.

"He whispers your name sometimes when he does it," she'd said. I looked at
Kee in a new light now. I didn't know where love left off and lust took
over. They were both so pretty, Spence and Kee. It was impossible not to
love them both.

It wasn't until the next Saturday when Spencer and Kee and I joined nearly
a dozen other kids for a birthday party at the bowling alley that I got to
spend some much needed, much anticipated private time with Spencer in the
restroom, under the guise of...oh hell, there was no guise. We simply bowed
out of the second game, and disappeared on our own into the last stall of
the men's room while Kee and the other boys were bowling.

"I want to touch your thing," Spencer said breathlessly as I locked the
door behind us. "There's never any private time. And I want you to teach me
stuff so bad. It makes me ache in my insides."

I hugged him to me. I could tell he was hard. His little bone was pressing
against me. Mine was hard too.

I cupped his face in my hand and I kissed him.

"Quickly," I whispered. "We have to do this quickly."

I felt him shudder and I heard his breath quicken as his hand fumbled for
my zipper. Shaking, I offered him my erect cock. Took his hand in mine and
placed it over my aching hardness.

I needed him so badly. I needed him to do this. Here. Now. Anywhere. As
long as he could make me cum.

"Stroke it, Spencer," I coached him hungrily. "Jack it up and down."

"My mouth," he whispered. "I want it in my mouth."

I moaned out loud. He looked at me hungrily.

"Teach me."

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

The first time I sucked a grown man's penis, I was 14-years-old. His name
was Jared, he was 45, and I met him in a community theatre play I was
in. He was a boylover. It was probably the first time I fully understood
the concept that "some" men liked "some" boys, always with their hearts,
but sometimes with their bodies.

I was not scared to be in this relationship, nor was I used, nor was I
manipulated, nor was I naïve or taken advantage of. I understood what he
ultimately needed but was too afraid to start with me, I understood what I
ached for so badly it made me shake inside. I had a hunger in my heart that
transcended silly sex and base biology. Man or boy, it's all the same; we
crave oneness from a lover, not sex, not fucking. Sex is just what we do
because we can't become one with them or meld with them in any other
way. It's the next best thing.

As it turned out, I had to seduce him. Most boylovers are like that. Unable
out of fear, unable out of respect, to initiate. And I wish people
understood that. After we'd done stuff, become physical that summer, Jared
told me he would have been perfectly content to just be in my company that
year. Just see me and spend time with me. Just take me
places. Non-threatening. Non-sexual. No tricks. No agenda. And if that kind
of love from a man to a boy is called grooming, then fine. Then I was a boy
who needed desperately to be groomed, even if I had to lead him to the
stable myself.

"I just need to be with you, Danny," he said, as he rocked me naked in his
arms. We were lying in bed and he'd just made love to me. I was sticky and
content with the deep-inside heat of him. How he'd filled me. Stretched my
whole existence. His heat and his scent rolled off me like a new and
comforting coat I'd just tried on and found miraculous and right. My ass
was empty now. Wide and wet and pulsing with his echo, but oh God, how he'd
fit me perfectly.

"Just being with you is enough, Danny. I swear, I didn't ever need this."

I kissed his beautiful lips and raised my arm to stroke the stubble on his
cheek. Tears formed in my eyes to hear such love from him. To be held so
close to him like this, feeling so safe and kept, so willingly
acquiescent. There are moments of surrender in our life that transcend
everything we've waited for, and this was mine. My first and most
essential. Naked in his arms, I'd never in a million years known love from
a man could be so warm and right and palpable.

"This," he said, letting his hand wander down to touch the hot hardness I'd
made for him, "is a miracle. It's a wonder. It's more than I ever could
have dreamed of," he said, kissing my eyebrows. "But if it's ever not what
you want – this part – I'm happy just to know you. Just to be with
you, Danny. I'll be anything for you. Whatever you need me to be. I hope
you know that."

I cried into his chest as he held me and rocked me in his arms. Nobody'd
ever loved me like that. Nobody'd ever respected me like that. I was a
little child being loved by a man. And it wasn't puzzling. It wasn't
wrong. My heart just grew and grew and grew that summer. Into magic and
memory, forever sweet. To this day, grateful and overflowing.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Spencer stroked my hard cock in the stall of an empty bathroom at the
bowling alley. His hand was unsure and arrhythmic, but it felt so good to
have his warm fingers around me, I knew I was only seconds from cumming.

"I can suck it for you," he whispered breathlessly. "You can cum your juice
in my mouth."

"Oh, Spence..."

He got down on his knees immediately and opened his mouth.

Just the act of seeing him kneel down for me, open his mouth, bend
submissively and willingly to please me, to need me, was all it took to
send me immediately over the edge.

"Oh God," I stuttered. "Oh God, Spence, I'm sorry, it's happening too soon,
oh GOD!!!!!!"

And without warning, my balls exploded, my mind shot fireworks, my cock
fired out a volley of semen into Spence's waiting mouth. He coughed. He
choked. He gagged on the force of it. But his lips wrapped around me,
determined to do this big-boy thing. Determined to not let me see him
defeated.

"My baby," I whispered. "My angel." Incoherent with my love for him.

He looked up at me, smiled weakly and swallowed. Winced at the strong
taste. His eyes asked, "Are you proud."

"Oh, baby," I whispered. "Come here." And I kissed him.

A sweet forever kiss. He was too young to be doing this. I knew it. But I
needed him.

I kissed him, with hunger. Tasted my own semen on his lips. In his
mouth. On his tongue.

He kissed me back with a hunger that defied his age.

"I want you so much," he said, and there were tears in his eyes. "You can
do whatever you want to me. You can put your finger in me. You can put your
thing in me, but just not hard."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think straight.

"You know how I said I didn't want to learn butt stuff yet?" he asked me.

I nodded.

"I think I do now."

I held him.

"I just don't want it to hurt me, okay?"

"Okay, Spence," I promised him.

"Can we do it? Can we do it now?"

I shook my head. My mind was racing. My dick wanted everything. Too
fast. We had to slow down.

"It has to be private," I told him breathlessly. "It can't be here. It has
to be beautiful and it has to be private."

He threw his arms around me and cried. "I hate all the waiting. I hate how
they watch us."

I nodded. I was under Abby's microscope. And Kee's, too. I knew his
frustration.

"I wish you could adopt me," he whispered. "I wish I could just be your
boy. Alone and forever with nobody watching."

I hugged him to me, my dick still wet with his spit. My mouth still
spinning with his semen-flavored kisses.

"I'm going to figure this out, Spencer," I promised him. "Figure out a way
we can have some time together. You'll trust me, right? Trust me and be
patient."

He squeezed me tight.

"I just want to learn," he whispered, looking up at me with wet, wide
eyes. "I just want you to teach me."

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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