Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2017 08:12:24 +0000
From: Andy Brown <andybrown2000@outlook.com>
Subject: Tutoring Dylan - chapter 17

Tutoring Dylan - chapter 17


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Will the key turn up soon?  Will Dylan's cock finally be released from its
cage?  What will Dylan do once his cock is free?  Read on to find out.

***

From the end of chapter 16: As we settled into our seats, popcorn firmly
held on Dylan's lap, the film began: Ben-Hur, a remake of the 1959 Charlton
Heston classic.  It had been Dylan's choice.  I think the poster showing
the male lead without many clothes on had swung it.  I'd been doubtful
about it, but soon began to enjoy it.

Dylan was enraptured by the action on screen, swallowing down handfuls of
popcorn as he watched.  I grabbed the occasional piece from the tub, our
fingers touching on several occasions as we inadvertently dived in at the
same time.

As the long waited for chariot race began, Dylan put his hand on my thigh,
obviously feeling tense.  Putting my arm round his shoulder, I pulled him
towards me.  It was lovely, just holding him like that.  My mind began to
wander, thinking about me and Lars; Dylan and Oliver.  Soon all this could
be over, each of us going our own way.  A silent tear trickled down my
cheek.


***


Having to be in work for nine on Monday morning, I'd set my alarm for
seven.  I awoke immediately as it began to sound, and quickly turned it off
so as to try and avoid waking Dylan.  Beside me, my teenage beauty began to
stir.

"Don't worry Dylan, it's only my alarm.  Go back to sleep," I said, giving
him a kiss on the forehead.  Closing his eyes again, he rolled over and
soon drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

After grabbing my clothes, I headed to the bathroom where I undertook my
usual morning ablutions.  Once dressed, I headed downstairs for a bowl of
cereal and a mug of coffee.

Stomach filled and caffeine pumped into my body, I was ready to face the
day.  Quietly, I crept upstairs.  Going into the study, I grabbed a pile of
paper: a few pictures I'd printed out whilst Dylan was otherwise occupied
yesterday afternoon.  Picking up a ball of blu-tac from my desk, I worked
my way round the house, sticking up several photos in each room.  It was
turning me on to look at them.  I was confident it would have the same
effect on Dylan, keeping him on edge and ready to agree to the next item on
my list.

Task completed, I grabbed my bag and headed off to work.


***


That morning's bus ride was a comparatively lame affair.  The top deck was
virtually empty when I clambered up there.  This was by no means unusual.
Mine was only the third stop along the route and so I'd often find myself
getting on to a relatively unfilled vehicle.

As the journey went on, the top deck began to fill up, though there was
little conversation as most people sat alone.  Disappointingly, nobody was
talking on their phones.  I put this down to Monday morning blues and
nobody being very awake yet.


***


Arriving at work, I walked towards the lift.  As I stepped in, I felt
someone bump against me from behind.

"Sorry, sorry," I heard a sort of familiar voice say.  Spinning around, I
saw it was the vision of beauty that had entered my life so dramatically on
Saturday morning.

"Good morning Lars," I said to the blonde haired teenager.  "In a bit of a
rush are you?"

"Hi Andy," he said, looking flustered.  "Sorry.  Yeah, woke up late.  I'm
meant to be at Mrs St Clair's office by nine.  Don't want to be late."

"Don't worry about it," I reassured him as I pushed the button for the
third floor.  "And call her chief, that's what the rest of us do.  Or
Rottweiler."

Lars chuckled, then paused as if working himself up to say something.  "Do
you want to... you know... do what we did on Saturday again?"

I smiled.  "Sure.  Yeah.  That'd be great."

"Cool," he replied, his body visibly relaxing with relief.  "When?"

"I'll be going for lunch at half twelve.  Come find me then."

"Okay."  Just as he said that, the doors opened and we stepped out onto the
third floor.  Lars hurried off to find the chief.

After checking my pigeon hole for any post (I was unsurprised to find there
wasn't any), I looked up what station I was using today: 37.  I strolled
over to my terminal and logged on.

Several calls later, my phone bleeped.  A message from Dylan: 'You're a
bastard.  Though those guys are really hot.'


***


Picking up my bag, I headed towards the employee lounge for lunch.  There
were a few of my colleagues sitting around eating, but no sign of Lars.
After pouring myself a glass of water, I sat down and tucked into my
sandwiches, making small talk with my co-workers.

Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of Lars.  I started to get
worried.  What if he'd changed his mind?  What if he was regretting what
we'd done on Saturday?

Just as my thoughts were getting the better of me, a figure appeared at the
door.  "Hi, Andy," Lars said.  "The chief wants to see you in her office."
My panic level rose.  Then Lars winked at me, and I cottoned on to what he
was doing.

"Sorry guys," I said to my colleagues.  "Best go see what she wants."

Following Lars out of the door, I quickly checked we were doing what I
thought we were doing.  "She doesn't really want to see me does she?" I
queried.

"Of course not," he replied.  "But I thought 'Andy please can you come to
the toilets with me' might arouse a few suspicions."

"Very clever," I said.  "You're a smart lad."

"Thanks," he said, as we headed towards the bathroom.

"So what've you been up to this morning?" I enquired.

"HR.  I think it stands for Horrifically Repetitive."

"I'm sure it's not that bad!"

"It's okay, I suppose.  There is one big problem though."

"Oh, what's that?" I asked.

"You're not there."  I blushed ferociously and I swear my heart skipped a
beat.

Entering the toilets, we dashed into a cubicle, locking the door behind us.

"How do you wanna do this?" I asked.

"Oh, I wanna blow you first," he replied.  "I spent all day yesterday
thinking about sucking on your cock again."

Hurriedly, I unfastened my trousers, pulling both them and my underpants
down to my knees.  Reaching out, Lars took hold of my straining erection
and pulled it towards his sweet lips.


***


The bus ride home was far more interesting than the morning's journey.  A
couple of stops in, a pair of teenage lads, both probably around 15 and
fairly decent looking, came and sat behind me.

"So what's the plan for tonight bruv?" one of them asked.

"We go round mine and get some food," his friend explained.  "Then later,
Kelly's gonna text me, let me know her rents have gone out, get me.  We go
round, wait for her bruvva to go to bed, then I bang her."

"And what am I meant to do?"

"Don't worry bruv.  Lisa's gonna be there too.  She's a right sket.  I'm
sure you'll get some uck."

"Sick!" his friend replied.  Teenage lads, I thought to myself, always
thinking about sex.  Then again, so did I most of the time.

The two horny teenagers got off soon afterwards and I then listened in to a
phone conversation between a middle aged man and who I assumed to be his
stressed out wife.  By the sounds of it, she was just about ready to murder
their kids.


***


I arrived at the gymnastics centre in good time, the traffic on the roads
moving quite nicely that afternoon.  Walking through the doors, I entered
the practice area.

Looking around, I could see Dylan stood to the side of the vault, sharing a
few words with JJ.  Across the opposite side of the apparatus stood one of
the female coaches.  At the end of the runway, Noah was swinging his arms,
his blonde hair spiked as usual.

He began sprinting down the runway, arms pumping as he ran.  Hitting the
springboard at pace, he launched himself forwards, springing off the vault
with his hands.  Like a Catherine Wheel, he got into a tuck position and
rotated twice in midair, before landing cleanly on the mat.

Wow, I thought to myself.  This kid's good.  Noah walked over to Dylan and
JJ, high-fiving both of them.  Dylan then made his way towards the end of
the runway.  I was looking forward to this.

He set off.  Not quite as quick as Noah perhaps, but with longer legs he
didn't need to be.  As he hit the vault, he whipped his legs over his head,
tumbling and twisting through the air, his feet a mere fraction from
scraping the apparatus.  He landed perfectly, his arms and legs stretching
beautifully.

As I applauded, Dylan looked over, only just realising I was there.  He
gave me a quick wave.

Next up was JJ.  The hunky, brown skinned boy took his position.  I watched
keenly as he sped down the track.  Like the other boys, he launched himself
forwards off the vault.  As his body came over he got into a tuck position
and made a half-twist in mid-air.


Suddenly, the shrill sound of a whistle blew.  The noise obviously caught
JJ off guard too as he fumbled his landing.  Then came the booming voice of
the head coach: "okay guys, great work again today.  Hope to see you all
tomorrow."

Dylan had a quick chat with his two mates before coming over to find me.

"Hi," I greeted him.  "You looked good out there."

"Thanks," he said.  "It's one of my better events."

We walked out to the car, strapped ourselves in, and set off home.  "Did we
get any post today?" I asked.

"Only a letter from your electric company," he said, sounding disappointed.

"So the key hasn't arrived from my uncle then?"

"No, it bloody well hasn't!" he replied.  "Though I wish it'd hurry up."

I smiled to myself.  "Oh well.  I'm sure it'll arrive tomorrow.  Hopefully
it's not got lost along the way."

"It bloody well better not have done!"

I laughed.  "So what have you been up to today, whilst I've been hard at
work?"

"Not much," he replied.  "Though I did have to a fair bit of time taking
all those photos down.  I couldn't exactly spend all day looking at hot,
naked men, could I?  I'm fit to burst as it is, without those getting me
even more turned on."

I laughed again.  "Sorry," I said.  "I thought you might like them."  Dylan
shook his head in despair.  "So what else did you do?"

"Well after I'd taken them down, I had breakfast and watched TV for a
while.  Then I went out for a bit to try catch some more Pokemon.  Didn't
do bad today, managed to find a Sandshrew, a Charmander, and even a
Aerodactyl."  He looked really pleased with himself.

"Cool," I replied, still not having a clue what any of it meant.

"Then I did a bit of exercise before lunch, just some sit-ups and
press-ups, and then I Skyped Jamie."

"Great.  How is he?"

"Oh, he's fine.  A bit bored.  His mum leaves him at home a lot, especially
now she's started seeing Martin, you know, that guy she met when we were on
holiday."

"Aha."

"And he's still got another four weeks off.  He goes to a private school,
what with his mum being loaded."

"So what's he been doing with himself then?" I asked.

"Not much.  He doesn't have many friends where he lives.  His prep school
was about an hour's drive from their house.  But he finished there in July.
He starts his new school soon, but that's gonna be even further away, so
he's gonna have to live there."

"Ah, so he'll be boarding.  That could be interesting for him."  I gave
Dylan a wry smile.

"Yeah," he said, catching my drift.  "I bet it'd be fun being at a boarding
school.  Imagine what you could get up to with your roommates at night!"

"Perhaps you should ask your parents to send you to one."

"Maybe.  It would be fun.  But I think I'd miss my mates too much.  And I'm
not sure mum and dad could afford it."

"Have you two made any plans to see each other again?"

"Nah," he replied.  "He lives too far away.  It'd take pretty much all day
on the train just to get there."

"That's a shame.  And I bet he's feeling quite frustrated not being able to
mess around with anyone after what the two of you got up to together."

"Probably.  Though he's got his ten year old cousin coming to stay later in
the week.  I think he's planning to show him a thing or two."

I chuckled to myself.  It was like I'd started a chain reaction.  I'd
inducted Dylan, who'd then taught Jamie, who was now planning to show his
younger cousin what to do.  It made me feel quite proud.


***


After eating a quick dinner of pork chops, potato wedges and salad, we
chilled on the sofa with a bowl of ice cream each.

"So what do you fancy doing tonight?" I asked him.

"Dunno," he replied.  "Just... no more sex stuff.  Please.  I don't think I
can handle any more."

I put my arm around him.  "It's okay," I reassured him.  "I know it's been
tough for you.  How about we just watch some TV tonight."

"Yeah.  Sounds good.  Thanks."

We spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa.  With the Olympic
action over, and the closing ceremony not starting until midnight, I
managed to find a fairly entertaining La Liga match on Sky where Las Palmas
surprisingly beat Valencia 4-2.


***


I had to be in work even earlier on Tuesday morning, so left the house just
after seven.  I'd been as quiet as possible as I disentangled myself from
Dylan's arms and got ready for work.

As I waited at the bus stop, I hoped that the key would arrive today.  It
had been fun having Dylan caged up, and I knew he was so desperate for
release that he would do literally anything once the time came.  But at the
same, I knew how agonising the past few days had been for him, and
actually, I missed being able to see, touch and suck on his hard, teen
boy-stick.

 Several minutes late, the bus pulled up and, after letting an old lady on
before me, I boarded the vehicle.  Taking one of my usual seats upstairs, I
sat down.

Across from me sat a young lad, who I reckoned to be no older than 9 or 10.
It seemed odd that a boy that age would be riding the bus alone,
particularly so early in the morning.  With longish hair and plump lips, he
was very pleasant to look at, pretty almost.  Although his puffy eyes were
looking straight ahead, I could tell he'd been crying.  A rucksack was
placed on his lap, his arms wrapped around it.

"Hi," I said.  No reply.  I shuffled across to the aisle seat.

"Hi," I repeated.  Still no reply.  I was becoming concerned.

I stood up and stepped towards him.  His face remained fixed straight
ahead, though I was sure his eyes flickered in my direction for the
briefest of moments.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Slowly, he turned his head towards me.  His face was etched with fear, and
his arms drew his rucksack in even tighter.  Hesitantly, he nodded his
head.

"Are you sure?" I queried.

"Yes," he said, his high-pitched voice barely audible.  "Sorry.  I'm not
meant to talk to strangers."

"Well no, you shouldn't," I replied.  "I'm Andy, I'm a teacher," - yes, I
know, I was stretching the truth slightly - "and I was just a little
worried seeing you sat there by yourself.  Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You just seem a little young to be travelling by yourself."

"I'm eleven," he said, now speaking a little louder.  "I'm going to big
school soon.  I was at a sleepover last night, but mum wants me home before
she goes to work."

"Oh, okay," I said.  I was slightly taken aback to hear he was as old as he
said.  He looked a year, if not two years younger than that.  I went and
sat back down in my seat.  I wasn't entirely convinced by his story.
Something seemed slightly iffy about it all, but I couldn't put my finger
on what.

As the journey continued, I kept stealing furtive glances at him.  At one
point I even took my phone out, pretended to play on it, and took a quick
photo of him.  I didn't quite know what I was going to do with it,
something just told me it was the right thing to do.

As we came towards my stop, I stood up and rang the bell.  The
nervous-looking boy was still in his seat, his arms still clutching his
bag.  I gave him a final glance as I headed towards the stairs.  I was
convinced he was lying to me.  His story simply didn't stack up.  Even if
he was eleven, as he'd said, the likelihood was that the friend who he'd
said he'd been staying with would have been a friend from school.  If that
was the case, then surely they'd live quite close to each other.  As it
was, this kid had just travelled for over half an hour on the bus, across a
big city, and showed no signs of getting off any time soon.  I knew that
the bus only had three stops left.  The first stop was further on in the
city centre on a street full of offices and cafes.  After that, it stopped
at the train station, then the bus station.  If he got off at either of
those two, then there was no knowing where he'd end up.

Still mulling the situation over, I clambered off the bus and took the
short walk to the office.  Unsurprisingly, what with it being so early, the
lift was empty.  It stopped at the third floor, and I stepped out.  I
checked my pigeon hole, finding there a brown, hand-written envelope.
Eagerly opening it, I pulled out and unfolded the letter it contained.  As
I read it, I smiled to myself.  Sliding the letter back into its envelope,
I stuffed it into my bag and looked to see which station I was using today:
number 4.  I strolled over to my terminal and logged on.


***


Sales were fairly slow during the first half of the morning.  I hadn't been
at my best, the boy on the bus occupying my mind.  Going over to the
machine, I poured myself a cup of coffee.  As I sat back at my desk, I
decided to do something about it.

Rifling through my wallet, I finally found what I was looking for.  I
pulled out the card, took out my phone, and began to type in a number.

"Good morning, Jane Gregory speaking."

"Hi, Jane," I responded.  "It's Andy Brown, I don't know whether you
remember me.  We met a couple of years ago.  I worked at a school.  You
helped us with one of our pupils - David Fairburn.  You ended up taking him
into care."

"Oh yeah, I remember," she said.  "I'm a bit surprised to hear from you.
Especially during the summer holidays."

"Yeah, well, I don't work there anymore.  I left last summer.  Long story.
The thing is, I was on the bus this morning and there was this young boy
sat opposite to me and... I don't know... there just seemed something not
quite right about him..."

"Okay... umm... so what was it in particular that concerned you?"

I explained what I'd seen, the conversation I'd had with him, and how far
he'd travelled.

"Well thanks Andy," she said, after I'd finished.  "Yeah, I can see why
you're worried.  Technically, it's not in my patch, but I'll have a word
with my colleagues in your area, see what they can do."

"Thanks.  I appreciate it."

"Did you say you got a photo of him?"

"Yeah, I know that seems a bit weird, but..."

"No, no, you did exactly the right thing," she reassured me.  "Could you
send it through to me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks Andy.  As I say, I'll get in contact with my colleagues and
hopefully they'll be able to find out what's going on."

"Thanks.  Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure.  What is it?" she asked.

"Can you let me know how they get on?"

"Yeah, will do.  Bye Andy."

"Thanks.  Bye."

Feeling slightly better, I sent the photo through to Jane.  I was about to
put my phone away when it bleeped.  Expecting it to be a reply from Jane, I
was slightly surprised to see that the message was in fact from Dylan: 'The
post hasn't arrived yet.  Grrrrr!'

I sent back a reply: 'I'm sure it'll come soon.'

Getting back to work, I called my next potential customer: a Mr Derek
Underwood from Ashby-de-la-Zouch.  The call was going well and I was
closing in on a sale when I felt a looming presence behind me.  Talking Mr
Underwood through the process for switching, I turned around.  Behind me
stood the towering figure of my supervisor Dan.  I mimed going fishing, the
agreed office gesture to signal we were 'reeling in' a client and couldn't
talk now.  Dan gave me a thumbs up, the sign to continue, and within a few
minutes the deal was complete.

"Sorry about that," I said to him, once the call was over.

"No sweat," he replied.  "Sales come first."

"So what can I do for you?" I asked.

"Well, we've got a bit of a problem with Lars, the work experience lad, I
think you met him on Saturday."

"Oh, yeah," I said, trying to sound far more laid back than I was feeling
inside.  "What about him?"

"You see, the thing is, he was meant to be shadowing Wendy today, sort of
seeing what her role involves..."

"Hey, we'd all like to do that," I quipped, knowing that Dan shared my
feelings about her.

"Too right," he chuckled.  "Anyway, the Rottweiler's not in today,
something about a family emergency apparently.  So we don't really know
what to do with him.  He'd been in HR yesterday, but I don't think another
day in there would be too great for him.  And then he's meant to be in
accounts tomorrow.  I did suggest we move that a day early, but apparently
they've got too much on today and he'd just get under their feet.  So I was
wondering..."

"...if I can have him hanging around me all day again," I said, doing my
best to fake annoyance.

"I know it's a big ask.  But I'd be ever so grateful."

"Fine, okay," I sighed.  "If I must."  Despite my Oscar winning acting,
deep down inside my stomach was doing cartwheels.

"Thanks Andy, that's really good of you.  I'll be back in a moment."

As Dan walked off, I pulled up an unused chair and grabbed a spare headset
out of the cupboard.  Just as I was plugging it in, Dan returned, teenage
cutie in tow.

"Thanks again Andy," Dan said as he left Lars with me.  The blonde haired
lad beamed at me.

"So," I said to him.  "Another day together.  Looking forward to it?"

"You bet," he replied.  He sat down on the spare chair and pulled himself
so close to mine that our knees were touching.

"Cool.  Now let's get some sales made."

I clicked on the next name on the screen, a Mrs Julia Hipkins from
Aldershot, and began to call her.


***


Just like Saturday, Lars acted as a lucky charm and I'd already made
another seven sales by lunchtime.  After quickly eating, we headed off to
the bathroom, locking the cubicle door behind us.

Pulling Lars towards me, we began to make out, our tongues entwined and our
hands roaming over each other's bodies.  As our hands explored, shirt
buttons became undone, giving better access to the flesh hidden within.

"Andy," Lars said breathlessly, as he broke our kiss.  "Do you want... to
fuck me?"

"Have you done it before?" I queried.

"No," he replied, almost silently.

"Then no," I said.  "At least, not yet.  Not here.  Your first time should
be special.  Not in some office toilet.  We will do it, if that's what you
want.  But somewhere else, somewhere nicer."

Lars looked upset.  "Okay," he replied, his response thick with
disappointment.

"But we can still blow each other," I suggested.  His smile returned as he
unbuckled my trousers and sank down to his knees.


***


Two o'clock, and it wouldn't be long before my shift ended.  Sending Lars
off to check with Dan what would happen at three when I left, I sent Dylan
a quick text: 'Post arrived yet?'  Then, placing my phone down on the desk,
I went to grab us both a cup of coffee.

Drinks made, I returned to my terminal only to find Lars already back and
reading something on a phone.  Getting nearer, I realised it was mine.

"What're you doing with that?" I asked, a hint of anger in my voice.

"Sorry," he replied, noting my reaction.  "It buzzed, so I thought I'd just
check it for you."

"Yeah, well next time don't," I snapped, putting down the two cups and
snatching the phone off him.  I placed it on the other side of the desk,
away from his reach.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments as I sat down.

"Who's Dylan?" he asked.

I didn't like where this was going, and began to dread how much he'd read.
"He's my nephew," I replied.  "He's staying with me at the moment."

"Oh.  Okay."  Another pause.  "He says the post's arrived, but seemed
annoyed that some key hadn't been delivered."  Lars shrugged his shoulders
as he said this.

"Right, thanks."  I hoped he wasn't going to pry.

I was about to put my headset back on when Lars asked, "So, what's the key
thing all about?"

Shit, shit, shit!  "Ummm... well... it's for his bike lock.  He'd left the
key at his parent's house... so they've posted them to my house... but
we're still waiting for them to arrive."

Was that plausible?  I wasn't sure.

"Oh... right," Lars replied.  He didn't sound convinced, but I was glad
when he didn't say anything else, and I could get back to making my calls.


***


In the middle of a call to an elderly lady in Manchester, my mobile began
to ring.  Lars looked at me.  I shook my head.  He got the message.

After ending the call - sadly no sale this time - I checked my mobile.
There was a missed call from Jane, as well as a voicemail message.  Looking
at the clock, I could see there were only ten minutes of my shift left.
I'd ring her back when I finished.


***


Final call made, and another sale bagged, it was time to go home.

"Right Lars," I said, logging off the system, grabbing my bag, and stowing
my phone in my pocket.  "Time for me to go.  Sorry about snapping at you
earlier."

"Don't worry," he replied.  "I shouldn't have been looking at your phone."

"So, are we still friends then?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"And do you still want to... you know...?"

"Of course."

"Great.  Well, I best be off, and you best go find Dan.  See you tomorrow."

"Yeah.  See ya."

I headed off to the lift, Lars going in the opposite direction to see Dan,
my supervisor.

Walking towards the bus stop, I pulled out my phone and listened to the
voicemail message.

"Hi Andy, it's Jane Gregory.  Just to let you know that there's been a
development in the case you phoned me about this morning.  If you want to
give me a ring back, I'll fill you in."

As the message ended, I could see the bus just pulling in to the stop.
There were a few people standing there already, so I knew I'd be able to
make it.  Quickening my pace to a jog, I reached the doors just as the last
person was paying the driver.  I showed him my pass and then climbed the
stairs to take my usual place on the top deck.

After taking a few moments for my breathing to recover, I phoned Jane.

"Good afternoon, Jane Gregory speaking."

"Hi, Jane," I responded.  "It's Andy Brown.  I'm just returning your call
from earlier."

"Hi.  Thanks for calling back.  As I said in my message, there's been a
development since this morning."

"Is that good or bad?" I asked.

"In this case good.  I contacted my colleagues in your area, as promised,
and filled them in on the details.  They then contacted the police.  As it
turns out, the police had had a call this morning to say a child had run
away not too far from where you'd got on the bus, and the descriptions
matched."

So I was right, I thought to myself, there was something dodgy going on.

"Luckily, the police managed to get hold of the CCTV they needed," she
continued, "and managed to work out that the child in question had boarded
a train to Birmingham.  The West Midlands police were informed and the
child was picked up at Birmingham New Street station.  The parents are on
their way down there now."

"Thank goodness for that," I said, breathing a sigh of relief.  "So do you
know why they ran away?"

"I don't know the full details, no.  Something about a family argument from
what I could gather."

"Oh, okay.  Well thanks for letting me know what happened."

"My pleasure," Jane replied.  "And anyway, it should be us thanking you.
If you hadn't reported it, it would certainly have taken a lot longer to
find the child, if at all."

"No problem.  I'm just happy to hear that everything turned out okay."

"Yeah.  Me too.  Well, thanks again.  Bye Andy."

"Yeah, bye Jane," I replied as I ended the call.  Putting my phone away, I
sank back into my chair, relieved to hear that the youngster had been found
okay.


***


Arriving back home, I went upstairs.  Going into our bedroom, I got
everything out that we'd need for later and hid it in the bottom of the
wardrobe.  Heading back downstairs, I picked up my car keys and set off for
the gymnastics centre.

The traffic between my house and the centre was fairly easy, so it didn't
take particularly long to get there.  Glancing at the clock on my dashboard
as I arrived, I calculated that they were about halfway through the
practice time, which gave me plenty of time to watch (and perv on) Dylan
and his teammates.

As I entered the hall, it took me a few moments to locate where the trio of
studs were.  They were over in the far corner, practicing on the rings.
Walking over, I received a few smiles, nods of the head, and "good
afternoon's" from a few of the parents.  It seemed that I'd now become a
familiar face at the sessions.

Getting closer, I could see that the blonde-haired Noah was up on the
rings, his body straining, a look of steely determination in his eyes.  His
head was level with the rings, the rest of his body upside down and
stretched out towards the ceiling.

"Hold it," cried Phil, their coach.  Noah was shaking.  "Okay, and
dismount," Phil instructed.

Noah let his legs drop, bringing him the right way up.  He then relaxed his
arms, let go, and dropped onto the mat below him.

"Well done," his coach said, patting him on the shoulder as he walked to
the side.  "You're getting there.  A definite improvement."

The dark-skinned JJ was up next.  The coach hoisted him up and the lad
grabbed hold of the rings.  Then he pulled upwards, his biceps working
hard.  Soon his shoulders were level with the rings.  He continued to pull,
until the rings were by his hips.  His body was rigid, his arms locked in
place.  It was a very impressive sight.

"Okay, now down into the iron cross," the coach said.

The boy began to push the rings outwards, his arms remaining locked in
place.  He hung there, both arms extended straight out from the sides of
his body.

"Very good," Phil said.  "Now into the reverse."

Keeping his arms straight, the boy pulled his legs upwards until they were
pointing to the ceiling.

"Hold it," came the command.  Unlike Noah, JJ's body remained perfectly
still.  "Okay, and dismount," Phil instructed.

The boy brought his legs back down, relaxed his arms, then let go of the
rings as he descended.  Just before landing, he bent his knees slightly.
It was superb!

"Excellent again JJ," the coach beamed, giving him a pat on the back.
"Right boys, come gather round.  It's time to look at a new move.  This
one's called the Maltese cross.  You may have seen the Olympians doing
this.  You hold your body parallel to the ground at ring height with your
arms extended laterally.  It's the same shape as the iron cross, but it's
this way, instead of this," he said, showing what he meant as he gestured
with his arm.  "Let me demonstrate.  JJ, can you hoist me up?"

The oldest boy nodded and then helped his coach up on to the rings.  The
coach demonstrated the move to the lads, first getting into the familiar
iron cross shape and then raising his legs until they - and the rest of his
body - were parallel to the ground.  He held himself steady in this
position for a good five seconds before he brought himself back to the iron
cross position and then dismounted.

All three boys gave a round of applause as Phil hit the mat.  I found
myself joining in.

"Thanks boys," Phil said, looking a little bashful.  "Now it's your turn.
Dylan, you're up first."

Looking wary, Dylan walked over to the rings and Phil lifted him up.  Dylan
copied his coach's routine, though he was a little slower at getting into
each position and began to shake slightly after a couple of seconds in the
Maltese cross.

"A good effort," Phil said as Dylan dismounted.  He patted the boy's bottom
on the way past.  I hadn't realised it before, but Phil was very
touchy-feely with these three lads.

Over the next ten minutes, the boys took it in turns to perform the
routine, Phil giving a few words of encouragement or a tip to improve each
time.  JJ was clearly the best of the three - he was, after all, two years
older and had far bigger biceps and shoulders - but the two younger lads
were definitely improving.

Eventually, a whistle blew.  Phil looked at his clipboard and told the boys
to make their way over to the floor.  At the other side of the square stood
a middle aged woman, her brown hair tied back in a pony-tail, and a
clipboard in her hands.  She spent several minutes explaining something to
the lads.  From where I was standing, I couldn't hear what.

For the next half an hour, the lads practiced all manner of moves on the
large floor space: tumbles, turns, rolls, handstands, leaps and jumps.  It
was incredible to watch.  The fascinating thing was that each of the three
boys seemed to have their own speciality.  For JJ it was the handstands.
Noah was excellent at rolling.  With Dylan it was tumbling at which he
excelled.

The shrill whistle blew once again.

"Right guys," a voice boomed.  "Good work again today.  See you all on
Thursday."

The three boys thanked their coach and each headed off to find their
parents.  In Dylan's case, that meant coming over to find me.

"Hey," I said, as he came over.  "Good session?"

"Yeah," he replied, "not bad.  The parallel bars and rings were knackering
as always, but I think I'm getting better at them.  And the floor usually
goes well."

"Yeah, you looked good," I encouraged him.  "Especially with the tumbling.
That was amazing!"

We headed out of the hall doors, down the corridor, and into the car park.
Once in the car, Dylan began to bemoan the fact that the key hadn't arrived
in the post yet.  I commiserated with him.


***


After dinner, we headed upstairs and I told Dylan to get undressed.  Once
the boy was naked, I began to kiss his neck and then worked my way down
until I was kissing and licking the exposed skin surrounding his encased
boyhood.  As I caressed his skin, the boy moaned and whimpered beneath me.

Placing my hands behind his knees, I firmly lifted his legs up.  Dylan
quickly got the hint and pulled them up the rest of the way, exposing his
cute, winking boy-hole to me.  I leant in and breathed deeply.  The scent
was intoxicating.  Bringing my head down, I stuck out my tongue and licked
at his rose-bud.  Divine!  I ran my organ up it several more times, and
then I began to feast.

"Oh... oh yeah!" Dylan cried out.

After several minutes of working my tongue into his chute, I pulled out the
six-inch dildo and began to tease his hole with it.  As I switched it on to
the vibration setting, Dylan began to squirm on the bed, groaning with
pleasure.  Slowly, I began to work the tool further into his rectum,
eliciting ever deeper and louder moans from him.  With nearly five inches
inserted, I left it there, the silicone phallus quietly humming.

Sliding off the bed, I pulled an envelope out of the back pocket of my
trousers.  "I got a letter at work today," I said to him.

"Oh, right," Dylan grunted, lowering his legs as he did so.  "Anything
interesting?"

"Yeah, it was actually.  It was from my uncle."

Dylan's eyes widened.  "Does that mean...?"

"Yup," I replied, as I pulled a tiny key from out of the envelope and waved
it in front of him.

"You bastard!" he groaned, still being pleasured by the dildo's vibrations.
"Why didn't you...?"

"...get him to send it here?" I said, finishing his sentence for him.
"Because then you'd have unlocked yourself before I got home, jerked off,
and wasted that massive build-up of cum."

Dylan frowned slightly and then sighed, knowing that I was right.  "So are
you going to let me out now?"

"Soon my love... very soon."  He smiled, looking relieved.  "But before I
do, there's something you've got to agree to," I added.

"Anything!" he blurted out.  "I'll do anything!  Just please, get me out of
this thing!"

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes!  Yes!" he shouted.  "Please!  I'll do whatever you want!"

"Okay," I said, bending down and whispering something in his ear.

He sat up, looking shocked.  "Oh, come on Andy, not that," he pleaded.
"Anything but that."

"Okay.  In that case I'll just have to keep doing more of this."  Slipping
the key into my pocket, I bent down and lapped at one of his nipples.  At
the same time, I grasped hold of the end of the dildo and began to thrust
it in and out of his boy-hole, causing him to gasp every time it grazed his
boy-button.

"Stop, please!" Dylan begged.  With a final push, I buried the tool back in
his rear and brought my lips away from his chest.  Dylan stared at me.  For
a few seconds there was silence.  "Okay," the boy sighed.  "If that's what
it takes, then I'll do it."

I smiled.  Reaching down, I gently pulled the dildo out of him.  Dylan
groaned as the tip came out with a 'pop'.  "Right," I said to him.  "Come
stand up."

The boy did as requested.  "Now remember, no touching yourself until I say
so," I instructed.

Pulling the key back out of my pocket, I reached down and began
disassembling the cage.  Gently, I pulled the device away and Dylan sighed
loudly with relief.  I stared at the now fully naked teen, his dick
momentarily limp.  As if on cue, it began swelling rapidly.  It took just a
few seconds for his cock to stand at full attention.  Dylan smiled.

"Does that feel better?" I asked.

"Yeah," he sighed.  "But I want to cum so badly!"

"You will, soon.  Though first we've got to take care of business."

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes.  "But why d'ya wanna shave me anyway?"

"Because when your skin is smooth, it becomes much more sensitive.  There
are no hairs to take the sensation away.  And it'll make you look even
sexier!"

"You're weird," he chuckled.  "It will grow back, won't it?" he asked,
sounding unsure.

"Yeah.  It's only temporary.  It'll grow back in a couple of weeks.  Just
in time for starting back at school, in fact."

"That still means everyone at diving will see I'm suddenly hairless.  How
am I going to explain that?"

"Just tell them you read something about how getting rid of hair helps you
glide through the water better," I suggested.

"Fine," he sighed.  "Let's get this over with then."

Leaning forward, I gave him a quick kiss on the lips.  Then, stepping away
from him, I pulled the equipment we needed out of the wardrobe.  Picking up
the bowl, I headed off to the bathroom to fill it with warm water.

After the bowl was full, I returned to the bedroom and nearly dropped it.
Dylan had his back to me, and the perfect sight of his teen body took my
breath away.  I scooted round him, groping his amazing arse as I did so.
"Right my sexy boy," I said to him.  "Let's get you laid down on the bed."

Dylan did as instructed.  Grabbing the flannel, I plunged it into the water
and looked down at the olive skin on the teen boy laid out in front of me.
Shaving him wasn't going to take very long.  At just 13, he wasn't
particularly hairy: a sparse patch in each armpit, a small bush above that
delectable boy cock of his, and just a few hairs sprouting around his arse.
Obviously, his arms and legs were going to be a bit trickier, as the fine
hairs that had always been there had recently started to thicken.

"Arms up!" I ordered with a smile.  Like a solider being captured by the
enemy, he lifted them above his head.  As I began to use the flannel to
dampen his under-arm hair, he began to giggle.  His fidgeting only got
worse as I added the shaving gel and lathered it up.  Finally, I grabbed
the razor.  Three swipes under each arm was all it look before he was once
again smooth under there.  Though that was more than enough, as he
continued to giggle and squirm each time the razor made contact with his
skin.

Next up was his groin, which I wet down with the flannel and covered in
shaving gel.  Then, holding the razor near his skin, I looked up at him.
He had his head raised, watching as I lined up to remove the clearest
evidence of puberty that he had: his pubic hair.  Slowly, I began moving
the tool across his skin.  Like his armpits, the shaving only took a few
swipes.  Dylan continued to look on as I used a hand-towel to wipe away any
foam that remained around his now hairless groin.

"Woah," he murmured.  "It makes me look like I'm 10 again!"

I smiled.  "Don't worry," I replied.  "Like I said before, it'll grow back.
Now roll over and get on your hands and knees."

He followed my instructions, presenting me with a most glorious sight: the
perfect mounds of his arse cheeks.  Repeating the process for a third time,
his virgin hole was soon as smooth as his armpits and crotch.  As I looked
at his now bare bottom, I smiled to myself knowing that before too long it
wouldn't be a virgin hole any more.

"Time to stand up again," I instructed.  Dylan did as he was told, and I
motioned for him to stand on the hand-towel which I'd now placed on the
floor.  "Last things to do are your arms and legs.  Now it'd take quite a
bit of time to shave them, so instead we'll cover them in this cream," I
said, showing him the tube.  "Once it's on, we just wait 10 minutes before
we scrape it off.  It's the easiest way of doing it and it's much safer
than using a razor.  But just remember, no touching yourself while we
wait."

Squirting out the cream, I covered both of his legs, and then his arms.  I
then took the opportunity to admire my handiwork thus far.  It was
remarkable how young it made him look.  Although, sadly, I'd never gotten
to see him naked when he was nine, I imagined this is how he'd have looked.
Though, of course, he was far less muscular back then!  My thoughts must
have begun to run away with me, because it seemed only moments before Dylan
broke into my reflections.

"Hey, times up...that's 10 minutes gone," he said, indicating the clock on
the bedside cabinet.

I almost jumped in surprise.  "Sorry... I must have got distracted, you
know, just thinking about things."

Dylan grinned at me.  It was almost like he could read my mind.

Pulling myself together, I quickly scraped the hair removal cream off his
arms and legs.  "Right then, off to the shower with you.  But remember..."

"...no playing with myself," he mocked.

While Dylan was in the shower, I pulled off my own clothes and climbed onto
the bed.  In typical teenage fashion, Dylan eventually emerged from the
bathroom.  As he walked into the bedroom, I swear I stopped breathing.
Although at first glance the smoothness of his skin made him look like he
hadn't yet entered puberty, his toned physique showed he was a perfect
specimen of teen boy.  For a moment, my teenage Adonis paused in the
doorway, almost as if giving me permission to check him out.  As I stared,
a bead of water ran down his neck and arched over his collar bone.
Entranced, I followed it as it trickled down further: past his nipple, down
his firm stomach and across the smooth skin of his pubic area above his
cock.  His cock was still very hard, and very much demanding attention.

As I looked at him, I licked my lips.  Dylan took this as his cue to climb
onto the bed with me.  Slowly, I reached over towards his chest.  I brushed
the tip of my thumb over his right nipple.  It hardened, almost
immediately.  I did the same to his left nipple: same result.  As I began
to circle them, I could hear Dylan's breathing get heavier.  He was
certainly enjoying it!

I decided to move my interest further down.  Bypassing his pulsing boyhood,
I focussed my attention instead on his totally smooth legs.  Ever so
lightly, I began to brush my fingers up and down his perfectly hairless,
and now very sensitive, skin.

"Woah!" Dylan exclaimed.  "You were right.  That feels soooo good!"

"Just you wait!" I quipped as I once again dragged my fingers up his smooth
legs.  Bringing my hands up level with crotch, I rested them on his hips.
Then, so slowly it was almost as if I wasn't moving them, I ran my thumbs
down his V causing them to brush against his balls.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Dylan groaned.

"That feel good?" I asked.  Dylan simply nodded.

He gasped again as my thumbs retraced their steps.  Once back on his hips,
I dragged my fingers across the smooth, bare skin of his pubic area,
causing an even louder groan from Dylan.  Almost automatically, he thrust
his groin into the air and a pearl of precum bubbled up out of the tip of
his penis.

Leaving his cock so-far untouched, I shuffled along the bed and kneeled
over him.  With a knee nestled in each of his sensitive armpits, my hard
cock was pointing directly at his face.

"Suck it," I ordered.

Lifting his head up slightly, he reached over with his hand to grasp hold
of my rod.

Bringing my own hand down, I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.
"No you don't," I said, "just use your mouth."  The sight of my gorgeous -
and now very smooth - boy had got me worked up.  I knew it wouldn't take
much for me to blow my load, and I wanted to make it last as long as I
could.

With his arm now pinned down to the bed, he stuck out his tongue and licked
the end of my cock.  I moaned in delight.  Leaning further forwards, he
wrapped his lips around its head and began to suck.  The pleasure he was
giving me was exquisite.

All too soon, my orgasm came over me, like waves crashing against the
rocks.  Half a dozen spurts of cum shot out of my cock, and into Dylan's
waiting mouth.  Expertly, he swallowed each jet as it came.  Then, having
sucked me dry, he lowered his head onto the pillow, releasing my appendage
from the confines of his warm, wet mouth.

"That was awesome!" I told him.  Shuffling back down the bed, I leaned down
and brought him into a kiss, tasting my jizz on his tongue.  I then worked
my way down his body, trailing little kisses along his torso and towards
his groin, Dylan whimpering and moaning with each contact of my lips
against his skin.

"You want to cum, boy?" I asked.

"Yes!  O yes!" Dylan gasped.

Pulling out a bottle of lube I dribbled some onto his enflamed boy-rod.  He
gasped as the coolness of the liquid landed.  I then squirted a few drops
onto the previously discarded dildo and slowly began to push it into his
bum-hole.

"Ohhhh!" Dylan moaned as the tool worked its way up his tight chute.

With my free hand, I wrapped my fingers around his achingly hard boy-stick.
Soft yet solid, his cock pulsed in my hand.  How I'd missed playing with
this over the past few days!  As I held it, Dylan thrust his hips upwards
as if to tell me to get on with it.

After giving it a couple of strokes, I let go.

"Oh, come on Andy!" he whined.  "I'm so close!"

I smiled at him, and then, instead of taking it back in my hand, I lowered
my head and engulfed his cock with my mouth.

"Oh, yeaaahhhh!" Dylan moaned.

Ever so slowly, and knowing how near the brink he was, I began to suck on
his dick.  With my lips moving up and down his shaft, I swirled my tongue
around his head, causing him to whimper.

Not wishing to leave his hole unattended, I flicked the switch and the
dildo began to vibrate.  The look on Dylan's face was priceless as the
sensations were taken to a whole new level.  Ramping things up even
further, I slowly worked the tool back and forth.  A guttural moan escaped
his lips each time it thrust over his boy-button.

"Andy... I think... I'm gonna," he muttered, sounding almost delirious.

Letting his cock slide out from between my lips, I looked up at his
awe-struck face.  "Here we go then," I said, before taking his boy-rod back
into my mouth.

It only took a few more rapid sucks and it began.  Dylan's pleasured
whimpers turned into an ecstatic scream as the eruption began.  His first
jet shot so hard into my mouth that his cock jumped out from between my
lips.  Several ropes sprayed across his chest, one even hitting his own
cheek.  Some landed on Dylan's stomach and belly button, which quickly ran
down into his now naked crotch.  His cock continued to twitch as the last
few drops oozed out onto my fingers.  It was, by far, the biggest load I'd
ever seen Dylan shoot.  As I watched, my own dick hardened once again.
Meanwhile, Dylan's whole body was still convulsing with pleasure.

"How was that?" I asked, as I leant over and licked the spunk off his
cheek.

"Oh my... it was... so good," he gasped, almost breathless.

"I told you it would be," I said, as I switched the dildo off and pulled it
out.  I then proceeded to lap up ever last drop of boy-cream from his body.
Once finished, I pulled him towards me and shared his delicious load with
him.

As we lay there in each other's arms, exhausted after our exertions, we
drifted off to sleep.


***

End of chapter 17.  I wonder what Andy has got planned next for the now
hairless Dylan?

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated - andybrown2000@outlook.com