Date: Wed, 25 Jan 2012 06:10:29 -0800 (PST)
From: David Copperfield <cinepro2002@yahoo.com>
Subject: Teddy

As a graduate student I earned my room and board by acting as a live-in
helper in a family home near the university.  I slept in a small bedroom
off the kitchen.  There were three boys ranging in age from 6 to 12 but I
never really made friends with any of them.  I just went to class, came
home and helped out with whatever I was asked to and lived a generally
isolated life.

One weekend the parents held a party to which a dozen or so relatives and
friends were invited.  They used my bedroom as a coatroom: guests would
toss their coats on my unoccupied bed for later retrieval.  I circulated
among the guests serving canapes and drinks.  My eye was caught by the
youngest guest, a cute little 8-year-old redhead, a nephew of my
landlord's.  After an hour or so he grew tired so his parents asked to put
him in my bed and I agreed.  Half an hour later I needed to get something
from my room (I forget what).  When I opened the door I found the light on,
the bed strewed with coats everywhere except on top of little Teddy.  I saw
at a glance that his hands, or at least one of them, were making a little
bulge in his crotch.

Not wanting anyone else to see what I had, I took a coat and draped it over
his lower body.  Then without saying anything I turned the light off and
left the room.  Now, I thought, he can have his fun and no one be the
wiser.

I stayed at the party for about an hour (counting the time I took to drive
one family to their home and return).  Then I felt tired and asked to be
excused.  Surely, I thought, Teddy will have finished his play and be
asleep by now.  But as I climbed into the bed I couldn't help lightly
brushing his briefs.  To my surprise I found his little penis standing to
attention. Intrigued, I stroked him lightly through the cloth.  He's been
playing with it for more than an hour and hasn't reached a climax, I
thought. Could it be he hasn't learned how?

I continued gently stroking.  He didn't say a word.  I slowly slipped my
hand into his pants and touched his tiny but turgid organ.  He didn't say a
word.  After a few minutes I asked him whether he wanted me to stop.

"I don't know," he said softly.

As a rule I am not very good at 'reading between the lines' but I knew at
once what he meant: "I know this is very naughty, I know I shouldn't let
him do this...but oh! It feels so good!"

So I kept on stroking him.  After a few minutes I asked him again and got
the same answer.  But then he told me he had to pee.  I had heard that many
first-timers misinterpreted their rising excitement as the consequence of a
full bladder and continued my ministrations but Teddy insisted so I let him
go and he ran off to the bathroom.  Apparently he was correct because on
his return he was soft again.  I wondered whether I should leave it there
but just to make sure I touched him again and he stiffened up at once so I
resumed.

I asked again and again he wasn't sure. Then on an impulse I reached into
my own pants and swiped up a glob of the smooth juice I had been leaking as
my excitement built.  I stroked him with my moistened hand for a few
minutes and asked the question again: "Do you want me to stop?"

"NO!" He exclaimed.  I continued.

A few minutes later he whispered politely but urgently:

"Do it faster, please."

I complied.  I was careful to keep from squeezing him as I stroked him to
what soon became a powerful climax.  He shuddered as he came -- and then
began to cry.  What was wrong?  Had I violated some stricture?  Would he
feel dirty or guilty or would he feel those things about me?  It turned out
he was a bit sore, presumably because I had waited too long to use the
lubrication.

By the time his parents called him to get up for the journey home he was
fully recovered.  I often wondered whether he had learned enough from our
experience to be able to get there on his own but alas I never had the
chance to ask him.