Date: Wed, 27 Jul 2005 09:17:14 -0400
From: g d <parrafan@ureach.com>
Subject: Two Little Fundraisers

Two Little Fundraisers

a story by Parrafan

DISCLAIMER: This story contains material unsuitable for minors.
So if the shoe fits, you better click onto some other site right
now. This story is made up, and none of the characters is based
on real life (whatever that is).

DEDICATION: This story, a little shorter than my earlier ones,
is dedicated to all of those Nifty readers who take the time and
trouble to send an email to the writer(s) of stories that they
enjoy. No, this is not a shameless plug to request more stroking
of my own ego. I simply want to let every reader of these
stories know that the writers don't get paid to do this, and the
only reward they get (apart from seeing their story published
and preserved online) is the occasional note from you, the
readers, to say "Hey! Cool story!". Without readers, there would
be no need for writers, and vice versa, so we are a symbiosis.
Have a go.

* * *

Two Little Fundraisers

"Ah, Saturday at last", I mused, stretching my arms, legs and
neck before reluctantly venturing out of my warm, cosy bed. "I
thought you'd never get here".

I sat on the edge of my bed and took in my surroundings. The
digital clock on my little bedside cupboard showed 8:37. What a
great feeling it is to sleep past dawn! Only on a weekend can
this delight be savoured. My attention was next drawn to the
little blinking light on my computer, indicating that it had
switched itself to 'Standby Mode' sometime during the night.
That meant it had finished downloading all the parts of a rather
lengthy mpeg file I discovered in one of the newsgroups. Two
hundred and thirty seven 500Kb parts in all, plus par files (if
needed). When combined, it should make a movie around 119Mb in
size, which ought to run for just under twelve minutes. If that
twelve minutes was anything like the first three seconds I saw
last night when I downloaded the first part and played it, I was
in for a real treat.

In the brief preview I watched late last night, a man (whose
partially clothed body was only visible from the neck down) was
chasing a boy onto a bed. The boy was giggling (yes, this movie
had sound as well) and  teasing the man by flashing his stiff
little dick at him before jumping away from his clutches onto
the bed. The video was of much better quality than those webcams
I had been viewing lately, almost up to DVD standard. Because of
my slow modem, I decided not to wait up while each of the
sections downloaded, so I just let the machine run while I
slept. Now, to the payoff!

I clicked onto my newsreader program (Forte Agent, of course)
and highlighted the files. I then saved them to a temp folder
and opened Wincode. Yes, I know a lot of people swear by JAS, or
Mastersplitter, but a good file joiner is like a comfortably
motor car. Even though it gets a bit out of date, you don't want
to part with it because it means re-learning all the knobs and
dials in a new one.

A couple of clicks, and the pieces were joined. The file was
called "Mikey03", which suggests the excited little fellow was
named Mikey and there may or may not be two previous movie files
of him in existence. Then again, the file may originally have
been called "vid001", and the person who sent it to the
newsgroup decided to give the randy boy a name. Who knew? (who
cared?).

I keep several movie players on my desktop, so that I can play
almost anything the newsgroups dish up. Sometimes a movie will
play on one of the players, but not on the others. Now comes the
easy task of selecting from among CrystalPlayer, DivXplayer,
Windows Media Player Classic, RealPlayer, well, you get the
picture. No sooner had I double-clicked on WMP Classic, than I
heard the sound of a doorknock. "Funny", I thought, "I don't
remember there being a doorknock on the soundtrack of the
preview last night?". But then I realized my head was not quite
clear of cobwebs yet, because I had not yet selected "Mikey03",
and the doorknock must have emanated from my own front porch.

"If it's those damn Jehovah's Witnesses again, I'll...I'll...do
something!" I muttered to myself as I threw on a robe over my
boxers and stomped to the front door.

"Yes?", I yelled impatiently as I jerked the door open. "Oh!" I
exclaimed as I instantly realized that it was not a pair of
proselytizing preachers, but a duet of delicious darlings. Two
boys stood on my porch, dressed in Scouting uniforms, and they
were easily the handsomest boys I had seen at such close range
(apart from in my dreams and on webcams) for quite some time.

"Uh, sorry to yell, boys, I thought you were someone else", I
explained, lest they run away in fright.

"Hi Mister", the older boy greeted me. He wore a standard Scout
uniform, mostly khaki, adorned with patches and badges
witnessing to his achievements. The smaller of the two boys wore
a Cub uniform, navy blue and with fewer patches. I opened the
screen door and stepped out onto the porch to hear what the two
little guys had to say, while drinking in their beauty.

"Hi Mithter", the younger one echoed the older. It sounded like
he had a slight speech impediment, but as my Granny used to say
"A deaf man would be glad to hear it!"

"Hi yourselves, boys!" I returned their greetings. "What can I
do you for this fine morning?" Any regrets about not instantly
viewing my latest online acquisition were instantly forgotten as
I savoured the good looking boys before me. I walked over to an
old cane three-seater that had sat forlornly on the porch since
before these boys were born and settled myself onto the end,
patting the cushion alongside me for the boys to likewise sit.

"We're fundraisin' for my Scout Troop," the older boy declared,
sitting down next to me. "My little brother is helpin' me".

"I ain't tho little!", the younger lad countered petulantly,
settling his butt onto the other end of the seat from me. "I'm
bigger'n Billy, an' Tommy, an' nearly everyone in my Patrol!"

"Yeah, but you were born after me, so that makes you MY little
brother, don't it", the older boy reasoned. "It don't mean yer
little like a baby!"

"Now, now, boys", I interjected. "It's too nice a day to be
fighting with each other. I'm sure that your Patrol Leaders
would not approve of such behaviour, especially between
brothers". I let my advice sink in for a moment, then continued.

"Suppose you tell me what sort of fundraising you're doing, and
what's the worthy cause you're doing it for, maybe I can chip in
a few bucks", I suggested, thinking that they were going to
offer to wash my car or mow my lawn, or any of a hundred other
household chores that Scouts often perform in return for much
needed funds.

"Uh, we're tryin' ta build a basketball court at the Scout Den,
like, but it's gonna cost heaps. Billy, he's one of the Cubs,
well, his Dad is gonna build the court but he can't do it for
nuthin', so he said for every dollar we raised, he'd throw in a
dollar of his own to match it, for materials, like, and put his
own labour in fer free", the older boy enthused.

"Well, that sounds like a fine ambition. I approve of boys
having their own special place to play sports. So, what are you
doing to raise these funds, and why are you way out here, miles
from town?", I enquired. I guess I just wanted to hear more of
their sweet unbroken voices.

"Uh, we figured the other Scouts would prob'ly knock on doors
close to their homes, so I kinda decided that we'd ride out here
and sorta work our way back towards town", the older boy
explained.

"Well, that makes sense. No point raking over tilled ground,
eh?" The two boys just looked at me blankly, so I translated:
"No point knocking on doors that other Scouts have already
knocked on, eh?". Their smiles told me that I was understood, so
I persevered with my interrogation.

"Well then, what are you guys actually doing to raise the
money?", I asked. The boys didn't have any bags of cookies or
suchlike with them, nor could I see any on the two bikes lying
on my front lawn.

"We're selling kisses", the older boy declared, in a
matter-of-fact way.

I immediately thought that he meant those delicious chocolate
drops wrapped in coloured foil. I have a serious weakness for
anything chocolate, so my interest was instantly aroused.

"Kisses, eh?", I answered jovially. "Well, never let it be said
that I knocked back a kiss from a Scout - how much are they?"

"Er, a dollar from me, and fifty cents from my brother." the
older boy stated. "He ain't had as much practice as me, so his
kisses don't cost as much".

For a moment or two, the power of speech failed me. "Uhh, you
mean, er, kisses, as in, uh, Kisses with, um...lips?", I
stammered.

"Well, we were gonna sell cookies, but on the way out here,
Trent had an accident on his bike, an' the cookies fell in the
creek an' got ruined", the boy explained. Trent (who evidently
was the Cub) looked suitably ashamed of his inept cycling. "Then
I got the idea of selling kisses", he explained, as though it
was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Um, er, what made you think of kisses?", I gasped, still trying
to make some sense of what the boy was telling me.

"Well, our grampa took us to the County Fair last weekend, and I
saw a booth where a girl was sellin' kisses for a dollar, and
when Trent rode his darn bike straight into the creek, an' all
the cookies got wet an' sloppy, I hadda put my thinkin' cap on
and I thought, if she can do it, I sure can."

My head was spinning. I was prepared to sling the two boys five
or ten bucks if they did a bit of work around the yard, because
I could watch them as they did it. Otherwise, I would have
happily parted with a 10-spot for some cookies or chocolates, if
it meant enjoying their company for ten minutes or so. But here
was a boy of about 11 years in my estimation, selling kisses,
real BOY kisses, his own and his younger brother's.

"So, uh, how, er, how much would you have made if the cookies
weren't spoiled?", I asked, trying to keep the older lad
talking.

"Well, mister, we had ten boxes, an' each box sells for two
bucks, so that's twenty bucks, er, dollars", he replied.

"Um, how many kisses have you sold so far today?", I ventured,
trying to keep him talking.

"Well, you're our first house...we ain't sold none yet", the boy
admitted.

"Yeah", his little brother piped up, "we thought we'd thtart
here, cauthe you're at the end of the road".

"Well, you made a good choice", I answered, "because I'm just in
the market for some kisses. Do you want to sell your kisses out
here on the porch, or inside?"

The older boy looked around my unkempt front yard, and beyond it
to the gravel road. "Maybe we can go inside?", he ventured,
looking at his brother for confirmation.

"Yeth, inthide", the smaller boy agreed.

"Okay fellas, pile in", I urged, opening my screen door for the
two uniformed moppets. They trooped in obediently, coming to a
halt in my living room. They turned towards me as I closed the
screen door gently, leaving the solid wooden front door open,
lest the boys take fright.

"You two boys make yourselves comfortable, while I go rustle up
some money. Can't have you giving out kisses on credit now, can
we?" The boys gave out a little laugh at this, then turned to my
couch and plonked themselves down, one at each end.

I sauntered out of my living room, then when I was out of the
boys' line-of-sight I bolted for the bathroom to gargle some
mouthwash. Returning via my bedroom, where I picked up my wallet
and a few coins, I rejoined the boys. They had seated themselves
on my couch, but stood up again when I reappeared.

"It's okay, fellas, stay seated, might as well be comfortable,
right?", I remarked, as the boys resumed their seats. I sat in
an overstuffed single-seater across from them. "Now, I gather
you're Trent, right?", I looked at the younger lad, "but I
didn't catch your name", I continued, turning to the elder boy.

"He'th Thteven", Trent volunteered, before his brother could
reply. "He'th eleven an' I'm nearly ten", he added. For a moment
I thought he was going to recite his address and phone number.

"So, Steven, since this was your idea, are you going first?", I
enquired, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. The Scout
nodded, not with much certainty, then got out of his seat. He
was the older, after all, and it was his idea. He walked the
four steps to my seat, bobbed his head down and gave me a quick
peck on the cheek before I knew what he was doing.

"That'll be one dollar, please Mister", he grinned, holding out
one hand and blushing slightly. It wasn't as bad as kissing his
grandma, anyway.

"A deal's a deal, Steven", I declared, handing over a buck to
the boy who plunged it into his trouser pocket. "However, I
recollect those ladies at the county fair kissed on the lips,
not the cheek. How about you, Trent, you ever see those county
fair ladies kissing?"

"Yeth!", the Cub exclaimed. "They kith on the lipth!"

"And even though your brother reckons your kisses are only worth
half as much as his are, I bet you could give a kiss every bit
as good as one of those county fair ladies. Maybe even better.
Maybe even better than your big brother!", I argued.

"Yeah!", Trent agreed enthusiastically, wriggling in his seat.

"Well, you come on over here and you show your big brother just
how much your kisses are worth!", I declared, and with that, the
nearly ten year old Cub jumped off his seat and scampered over
to me. I held my arms open and after a moment's hesitation,
Trent jumped into my lap and turned his face up towards mine. I
enveloped him in my arms, smiling.

"We'll show your brother, won't we!", I whispered to him. He
smiled and nodded as I closed the distance to his lips with
mine. I felt a shiver - whether of dread or anticipation I did
not know - run through his little body as I grazed my lips
against his. I did not force myself on him, but gently rested my
lips against his and nibbled softly until he got the hang of it.
I heard his brother quietly gasp somewhere in the distance as I
sucked Trent's lower lip between mine, still holding my tongue
back. When I released his lip I felt my own shudder ripple
through my body as he returned the favour by sucking my lower
lip between his. I tightened my arms' grip around him to show
him I was getting serious, but then relaxed and let him fall
back lightly against the armrest of the chair.

"Wow", he whispered.

" 'Wow' is right! You're pretty good at this, Trent", I praised
the plucky little guy, then bending my mouth down to his ear to
whisper "much better than your brother".

"And now for the payment," I stated, holding out fifty cents
worth of change to his older brother, who I guessed was the
treasurer of the operation. Trent had jumped back out of my lap
to watch the financial transaction.

I saw Trent's frown greet the paltry amount, but reminded him "a
deal's a deal".

"But my kith wath much better than Thteve'th!", Trent
complained, pouting. "I thould get a dollar for it too!"

"Now, now, be fair, Trent. I couldn't honestly say how much your
kiss was worth because Steve didn't give me a proper kiss, on
the lips, like you did. Maybe if he was brave enough to do that,
I could compare them".

That did it. No bigger brother, especially a Scout, could just
sit back and  have his bravery challenged like that, in front of
his younger brother, especially as said younger brother had
already done the deed. Steven leapt out of his chair and
demanded another chance to demonstrate his kissing credentials.

"Uh, do I hafta sit in yer lap?" he queried.

"Nah, you're much taller that Trent. I figure you can stand up
like a man and kiss", I complemented, massaging his ego. In
reality there only was about four inches of height between the
brothers. I held my arms open and slid them around his lower
back as he edged closer to me. I then tipped him over a little
so he had no option but to clasp his arms around my neck, to
stop the sensation of falling. His head was now tilted back, his
face in the perfect position. I carefully clamped my lips over
Steven's, pushing my tongue against his teeth and my hips
against his thighs. Steven blinked, as if puzzled, then let my
tongue into his mouth. After slurping all around, I withdrew my
tongue and sucked, pulling his tongue back into my mouth. I
squeezed my arms against his back a little, pushed my hips
forward a little, and generally made out like the kissing
bandit. When I let him go two minutes later (my back was
starting to ache) I first eased him to a vertical position so he
wouldn't overbalance.

"Whew!" he panted when he got his voice back. "Yer sure a good
kisser, Mister. One dollar, please", he asked, and I promptly
paid up.

"You're pretty good yourself, Steve", I returned. "Say, is it
starting to get warm in here?", I asked of neither boy in
particular. I was still wearing my terrycloth bathrobe. I hoped
the boys were too young to have previously heard the oldest
makeout line in the book, but they seemed to take my comment on
face value. Steve nodded in mild agreement, Trent just shrugged.

"Well, I'm gonna take my robe off, I'm starting to feel the
heat. You boys can take your shirts off too, if you want".
Steven looked at Trent, and without a word passing between them,
both boys began to pull their shirttails out of their short
trousers and undo their buttons. I started towards my kitchen,
remarking "My mouth's kinda dry, too. Could you guys use a soft
drink?"

"Yes, please", both boys politely chorused. When I returned from
the kitchen with two half filled glasses I was greeted with the
sight of two bare chests - Steve's a little more defined than
his brother's.

"Here you go, guys, this will cool you down and lubricate you
all ready for your next kisses. It's important to keep your
mouth moist when you're kissing". The boys nodded wisely at this
advice, as though they already knew all about the hydrodynamics
of kissing. By taking their shirts off and staying for sodas I
sensed the boys were happy to linger a little longer, especially
if I was willing to keep paying for kisses.

"Aah", I sighed, finishing my own soft drink and setting my
glass down. I looked up at the boys. "Are you ready for your
turn, Trent?"

The younger boy was so ready that he set his glass down still
not quite drained. When he stood up I had the chance to admire
the bare upper half of his body. Lean, but not scrawny. Lightly
muscled but not too well-defined. The freckles on his face also
appeared on his shoulders, making him look as though he had been
sprinkled with some angelic pollen. Many boys with light sandy
hair have freckles - a charming combination that proves God
loves boys, or at least has good taste.

"Do you want to try a backwards kiss this time, just for fun,
Trent?", I asked the boy, trying to keep my voice light. Even
though he was the younger, he seemed more daring than his
brother, maybe because he knew his brother would always get him
out of whatever mess he got into.

"What'th a backwardth kith?", he asked, seemingly keen to try
anything.

"Well, it's easier to show you than to explain. All you have to
do is stand on the couch to make your head the same height as
mine, but put your back to me. That's the backwards part", I
explained. Trent obliged by stepping up onto the sofa, and
turning his back to me.

"Now, all I do is come up behind you like this", I continued as
I stepped up to the back of Trent. I wrapped my arms around his
tummy and suggested he lean his head back onto my shoulder. When
he did so, I slipped my tongue into his mouth straight off,
caressing his bare stomach with my hands as I did so. I felt him
sigh into my mouth as I stroked his nipples with my thumbs. As
we swapped spit vigorously, he raised his arms to the back of my
head, giving me carte blanc with the front of his body. I
alternated my stroking between his tiny hardening nipples and
his tight, flat belly. At the same time I savoured his mouth and
his dainty little tongue, the boy returning my kiss happily.

I wanted to know how far Trent was willing to go. I dropped one
hand down to his cotton-drill covered hip and held it. In that
position, my wrist lightly lay across the front of his shorts. I
imagined that I felt a little firmness behind his fly, so I
ventured forth a bit more strongly. I plunged my tongue deeply
into his mouth, at the same time pushing his backside a little
with my hips. Trent gasped and shuddered, his distraction giving
me the chance to glide the hand on his hip up and down a bit, my
wrist rubbing his hardness. Trent's response was to clutch at
the back of my neck more tightly, which I took as a sure sign of
compliance, at least, if not enthusiasm.

To this point, I had not actually touched the front of his
shorts with my hand, so I could still claim some small amount of
propriety should Trent object. In addition, his brother was
watching us like a mother hen. I sighed deep in my throat to
signal Trent that our kiss was near its end, rubbed his chest a
few times and broke off our lip contact, pecking him a few times
on the cheek for good measure.

"Gosh Trent, you're a real fast learner!" I gushed, letting go
of his warm body. He smiled crazily, still a bit dizzy. I
reached for my wallet and pulled out a dollar with a flourish,
offering it to Steven. "Definitely worth every red cent of it!",
I declared. "How are the finances going so far, Steve?"

The older boy counted out his takings. "Three fifty so far", he
replied, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Tell you what I'll do", I offered the older lad. "If you give
me as good a kiss as your brother just gave me, I reckon it just
might be worth a buck fifty".

He added up in his head. "That would make five dollars! We'd
be...uh...one quarter the way there!". I was glad they still
taught fractions in elementary school. "It's a deal!" He jammed
the money back into his pocket, stood up, turned his back to me
and stated "I don't need to stand on the sofa, do I mister?"

"Not at all, Steve, you're quite a big boy, almost a man!", I
complimented. Trent scowled at me. I took up my position behind
him and cuddled his middle. He tilted his head back, permitting
me to devour his mouth. As with his brother (who was watching
the action from his end of the sofa), I stimulated his nipples
and draped an arm low down on his hip to try to detect any
stiffening of his resolve, as it were. I was delighted to notice
that the front of Steve's khaki shorts appeared to have grown a
bone, not a large one, but quite rigid for all that. I let my
hand rub his thigh, so that my wrist and forearm could graze
across his small prominence, while sucking his tongue to the
root. After three minutes or so, I broke the kiss off.

"Whew!" I declared. "Steve, you are a natural at this!". His
chest swelled with pride. "You're such a big boy!", I crooned.

"Aww, he ain't tho big", Trent remarked. "He can't even
jackerlate yet!"

"Trent!" a horrified Steve yelled. "That's private!"

"Hey, hey", I cautioned, trying to use my best soothing voice.
"We're all friends here, right? And friends can tell each other
private stuff if they want, can't they? In fact, now I know
something private about you, Steve, I think it's the right time
to tell you something private that I know, something about me."

The older boy had almost gotten over his shock at being outed by
his younger brother as being still pre-pubescent, and was
following my little speech with some interest. "What about you?"
he asked.

"Well, I used to be in the Scouts, like you", I replied. Steve
gave me a look that suggested that he thought my revelation fell
somewhat short of earth-shattering.

"But it wasn't only when I was a boy, but also as an adult
leader", I continued. "My special area of leadership was in
judging and awarding merit badges". Steve was still less than
impressed, so I pushed on quickly.

"One of the merit badges I used to award is no longer available
to any Scout in the world". That sparked a hint of interest. A
badge that no Scout can obtain any more? Steve inclined his head
to suggest he was listening.

"It was the Kissing Proficiency, or KP badge", I whispered to
both boys, adding a touch of the dramatic. "It's been outlawed
now, but twenty years ago you could still try for it. Only one
boy in each Patrol was allowed to qualify for it at any one
time".

Both boys were now intrigued. "What were the requirements?",
asked Steve. "Why'd they outlawed it?", piped up Trent.

"Well, the answers to your questions are kind of related, so
I'll explain them both together, if that's okay". Both boys
nodded. I patted the sofa cushions on either side of me and the
two lads took the hint and settled down on either side of me.

"The KP badge had five tests, all of which had to be passed
before the badge could be awarded. In fact, both of you boys
would have already passed one of the tests just from what we
have done this morning". I noticed that both boys' chests
swelled out a little at that. They had each passed a test
without even knowing it!

"Each test, essentially, obliged the Scout to kiss an adult
male. Each kiss had to be with a different person. Each kiss had
to be of a different type. The Scout had to tell me who the
adults were that they had kissed, so I could verify they had
done it properly". The two boys mulled over that new
information, then their questions began again. Trent looked up
at me first.

"Why'd they hafta be adulth?", Trent queried, wrinkling his nose
up at the thought of it. I was glad he was not including me in
the category of 'adults'.

"Well, as you know, the whole point of the merit badges it to
learn, as well as achieve. And let's face it, why do we have
adults as sporting team coaches, or as Patrol Leaders, or church
ministers, or sports referees? So we can learn from them! You
wouldn't expect to learn anything kissing a boy your own age -
he would only know as much as you about it. Maybe it would be
more fun with another boy, but sometimes we have to let fun take
a back seat if we want to achieve something worthwhile". Trent
nodded slowly as he assimilated this new knowledge.

"But why a male? And why was the badge outlawed?" Steve joined
in.

"Good questions, Steve". He wriggled on the sofa under my
compliment. "Like many things in this life, it has to do with
Politics. National Headquarters decided that having Scouts
kissing adult women might break up marriages. What if the Scout
turned out to be a better kisser than the lady's own husband?
And if she wasn't already married, there was a danger she might
never be happy with her boyfriend after a Scout had kissed her.
So the Leadership decided that it was much safer for the Scouts
to kiss men, because they were in no danger of leaving their
wives for a boy. Men could also provide a good role model, too,
so the Scout could learn how to give a really good, satisfying
kiss", I concluded.

"But why was it outlawed", Steve persisted.

"Well, politics again, I'm afraid. You see, there was nothing
wrong with the kissing itself, just like we've done nothing
wrong here this morning, and neither was the lady in the kissing
booth at the County Fair doing anything wrong. Still, with all
of the hysteria in the last twenty years about  Scout leaders
doing naughty things with Scouts-" here I paused and looked each
boy in the eyes for effect "-the Leadership thought that the
safe option was to discontinue any activity which involved
touching Scouts in any intimate way. That meant the end for
Instructors (such as myself) teaching Scouts the fine art of
kissing". I gave a sigh, to suggest that killing off the KP
badge was akin to abandoning a part of our national heritage. I
think the boys picked up on it.

"Are there really five different kindth of kitheth?, Trent asked
innocently.

"Trent, you are such a sweet, lovely boy to ask that!", I beamed
at him. "Hop up and give me a kiss and I will tell you!" No
sooner had the words left my mouth, but he was up on his knees
on the couch, putting his head level with mine, draping an arm
over my shoulders. I enveloped his thin body in my arms,
squeezing him to me as we had a little smooch. Steve watched us
with interest. Breaking the kiss (but not my grasp of his hips)
I smiled and continued my lecture.

"Trent, there are quite a few more than five kinds of kiss.
No-one knows exactly how many there are. New kinds of kiss are
being discovered all  the time! Maybe one day you or Steven
might do some important, ground-breaking research on the
subject, for the benefit of the whole world!" Trent, I am sure,
did not understand all of the words I said, but I think he got
the gist of them because he chuckled and gave me another peck on
the lips. I squeezed him again in response, then released him,
allowing him to slide back down to a sitting position next to
me.

"The five kisses to qualify for the KP badge could be chosen by
the Scout himself", I ventured on with my speech, "but they had
to include two special kisses, the All-Nighter and the KMA". I
paused to let that sink in, and was relieved and delighted when
Steve picked up on it.

"What're those?', he asked, not concerned that he was showing
his ignorance in front of his little brother. He was quite right
to be ignorant, after all, as I had just now invented both
names.

"I knew your inquiring mind wouldn't let me gloss over those,
Steve", I praised him. "C'mere!" I ordered, holding out my arms.
Steve had just seen me kiss his brother, so I was sure he knew
what was coming. Instead of getting up onto his knees like
Trent, Steve just swivelled his upper body around so that his
back fell into my lap. He looked up expectantly at me, waiting
for his kiss. I didn't make him wait long, wrapping my right arm
around his neck and bending down to savour his lips once more.
My free left hand rubbed his tummy just under the bottom of his
ribcage. I felt Steve shudder as I touched his bare flesh, then
wriggle a bit to get more comfortable. When I broke the kiss, he
remained in my lap, and I was more than happy to allow him to do
so, especially as my hand was still making lazy circles on his
satin-smooth tummy. An added bonus was that my elbow rested
right over Steve's crotch. Trent did not want to be left out of
any affectionate touching, cuddling under my right arm and
hugging it to himself.

"The All-Nighter, as its name suggests, required an overnight
campout. The Scout would invite some friendly man to help him
complete the badge requirement, maybe a neighbour, uncles were
always handy for this, or even an older cousin. After hiking to
a suitable location, away from other campers, the two would set
up camp, eat dinner, then at sunset they retired to their tent
and kissed for the whole night, until sunrise. The Scout had to
report to me as soon as they got back from the hike". I smiled
broadly, prompting Steve to ask "What's so funny?"

"Well, the All-Nighter was a good test because I could always
tell if the Scout had done it properly. After kissing all night,
a boy could barely move his lips to speak. I knew that if a boy
was able to say 'I just completed my All-Nighter' that he must
be fibbing, because his lips just shouldn't be able to get
around those words. Only a boy who had actually done it properly
would know that he would be unable to speak. It was perfect for
me, as Instructor".

"Did you ever go on an All-Nighter with anybody?", Steve asked
dreamily as my hand continued its gentle stroking of his stomach
and lower chest. My elbow was making the tiniest of indentations
on the front of his shorts.

"The rules did not permit it", I replied. "It wouldn't be fair
if the person who had to award the badge also took part in the
achievement of the badge. It would be like, er, a witness in a
trial also being on the jury. You can't do both". Steve just
nodded. "Still, if I was allowed to have an All-Nighter, you two
boys would have been the first ones I would have picked!" I got
smiles from both of them at that piece of blatant flattery. I
squeezed Trent with the arm he was holding to his chest, and
contorted myself to bend over and peck Steve on the forehead. I
was a bit worried I might be putting him to sleep with my
sensuous one-handed tummy massage, but he dispelled my concern
with "Tell us about the KMA!". Trent also showed his interest by
cuddling in even closer, tugging on my right arm until my
fingers rested lightly on the bunched-up material of the front
of his shorts.

"Ah, the KMA", I mused."Most Scouts found this to be the
toughest of the five tests. Part of its difficulty lay in
selecting the right man to do it with", I explained.

"What actually ith it?", Trent asked softly.

"Well, now to answer you, Trent, let me ask you a question. Have
you ever heard any boy, maybe in the park, or some guy on TV,
use the phrase 'Kiss My Ass'?", I asked.

"Thure! Billy'th older brother thayth it all the time. An' I
heard it on TV lot'tha timeth", he replied.

"Did you ever wonder where the phrase came from?" I enquired.
Trent just shrugged a non-committal response, but I felt Steve
under my left forearm start to sit up, saying "You don't
mean..."

I gently pushed Steve back down with my hand (because I was
enjoying the caressing too much to let him get away now),
nodding as I did so. "Yep", I declared. "It was Scouts invented
that phrase. Scout Historians believe that some civilians might
have been lurking under the window of a Scout Den,  listening
in, when they heard Scouts inside the Den use the phrase in its
proper context. Nowadays, it's just a dismissive insult, like
'Take a hike', or 'Go to hell'. But back then, before the KP was
outlawed, it was not unusual to hear an Instructor, such as
myself, direct a Scout who was trying to gain his KP badge to do
exactly that! The civilians started using the phrase, but
without the action it described, and it passed into common, if
vulgar, usage".

Steve gaped up at me. "You mean...you...uh...boys really...er".
I spared him from having to do any more beached fish
impressions, and satisfied his curiosity. "Yes, that's exactly
what I mean, but before I ever let a Scout loose on anyone else
to practice his KMA, I trained him thoroughly - very thoroughly
- in the correct technique. I might say, I never had a failure.
No Scout I trained ever let me down".

A heavy silence descended on the three of us as the two boys
digested what I had just told them. It was Trent who piped up
first. "Did you really kith boy'th bottomth?"

"Sure", I replied jovially, trying to make out it was not such a
big deal. "We did it all the time. Some of the boys even made a
joke out of it. A Scout who was preparing for his KP was known
in the Den as an Ass-Kisser, because they all knew what he had
to do to get his badge".

"There's a boy in my class that everyone calls an Ass-Kisser",
Steven commented in his dreamy voice, "but I thought it was
because he's a kind of teacher's pet".

"And that's what the phrase means today," I concluded for him,
"but you can see where it got that meaning - today's Ass-Kisser
is someone who is willing to do any menial task if it gets him
in good with some authority figure. But the Scouts of times gone
by - now some of them were excellent Ass-Kissers!". I let them
think that over for a moment, then dropped my bombshell.

"So, Steve, do you think you're brave enough to have your ass
kissed?", I asked, keeping my voice as light as I could. Inside,
I was trembling.

"You...you want to kiss...my ass?", he whispered, not believing
his own words.

"Sure!" I replied. "You came here to sell kisses, right? Well,
I'm buying. Tell you what I'll do. Since an Ass-Kiss is pretty
special, as I'm sure you'll agree once you've had one, I reckon
they're worth, oh, say, two dollars apiece". I smiled sweetly at
his incredulous face.

"Would ya pay two buckth to kith my ath too?" Trent piped up,
coming to my rescue. Before I could reply, Steve cut in: "He
asked me first!" I think Steven might have been worried that
there was only one Ass Kiss to be had that morning, and if so,
he was not going to miss out.

"How...er...what do I...", Steven stammered. I leapt to his aid.

"You want to know what you have to do? Certainly Steven.
Remember I've had a lot of experience at this". I hoped my nose
did not grow too long as I fibbed my way into the crack of young
Steven's derriere. "Trent, could you sit over in that chair
there, and watch what we do so you'll know what to do for your
turn". The younger lad jumped up immediately, galvanized by the
promise of things to come.

"Now, Steve, just sit up and lean your elbows on the side of the
couch, there, that's right, and kneel on the cushion, that's it.
Pretend like you're a puppydog listening for his master to come
home", I coached.

"Er, will I...do I...do you...", Steve attempted another
question.

"You want to know will your shorts have to come down? Well, yes,
I'm afraid it's physically impossible to properly kiss an ass
through a pair of shorts. You just stay in that position, that's
it, and I'll reach 'round and undo your belt. Got it. Now for
the clasp. There. Now I'll just lower your zipper carefully.
Easy does it now. All right, I'll just ease these down over your
hips, just wriggle a bit for me Steven, they're a bit
tight-fitting, aren't they, for Scout trousers. Ah, I see you're
wearing briefs, very good, I'll just slip them down a bit so I
can get at the crucial spot".

The purpose of keeping up all this patter was to give the
impression that I knew what I was doing, and that it was
perfectly reasonable for a bare-chested eleven-year-old Scout to
be having his short trousers lowered to mid-thigh by a
forty-three year old man who up until this morning was a
stranger. Trent just stared at us from the single-seater, mouth
agape.

As soon as I uncovered the twin moons of his bottom, I suggested
to Steve (with a choke in my voice) that he move his knees apart
a little, so that I could begin. I was only wearing boxers
myself, and the sight of Steven's smooth, round bottom nearly
made me shoot myself in the foot, as the saying goes. Steven
murmured a little hum of agreement, then edged his knees about
twelve inches apart. I rested my hands carefully on the
indescribably beautiful pillows of flesh that Steven sat upon
every day, moving my thumbs towards his pucker. At least I was
expecting a pucker. I had only seen a few assholes in my time,
both virginal and otherwise, and I was expecting Steven's to be
in the former category. But it definitely showed signs of use
other than waste management. A one-inch bruise surrounded his
fundamental orifice, like a pair of fading pale purple crescent
ribbons, suggested that Steven had more experience than I gave
him credit for.

However, that could wait. The task at hand was an Ass Kissing
never to be forgotten. I licked all the way down his crevasse
before swabbing his anus with the broad part of my tongue. I
made like I was painting his hole with saliva, using my tongue
as the paintbrush. Steven's little yips of surprise and pleasure
turned into soft moans as I made my tongue into a point and
slowly pressed forward. Steven tried to pull his bottom away at
first, but I held his hips firmly in place. When my oral organ
was inside him about three quarters of an inch, Steven expelled
his breath in a "whoosh!", then began to push back. I gathered
that meant he liked it. I was loving it, although the connective
tendon of flesh under my tongue was starting to hurt. I longed
to reach around and feel his tool and marbles, but restrained
myself. I did, however, pull his shorts and briefs down to his
knees, which was as far as they would go.

I was now poking and jabbing with my tongue. Steven was
alternating between moaning and panting, with quite a bit of
backwards hip thrusting as well. My tongue was moving beyond
soreness to numbness, so I went for the big finale. I drove it
up as far as I could and held it, licking around his inner ring.
He gave a huge sigh and a shiver of the hips, then let his head
slump forward onto his arms. I reached over his back to whisper
in his ear.

"Good boy, Steven, good brave boy. Now take your shorts and
undies off and go to the fridge and get yourself another soda.
You earned it". He climbed off my couch and shook his last
remaining garments to the floor, stepping out of them before
heading for my kitchen. Darn! I still didn't cop a look at his
tool. The sight of his bottom jiggling as he walked made up for
it though, for now. I sat up, turning to Trent, patting the seat
alongside me.

"Wow! Double wow!", Trent gushed, hopping off his chair and
sitting next to me. "That wath way cool! Are you gonna kith my
ath now?"

"Trent, I would dearly like to give you an Ass Kiss, I bet
you've got a really scrumptiously kissable ass, but not right
away. There is one more important thing I have to tell you". The
spectacularly naked Steven walked back into the living room,
carrying a glass of soda and showing his beautiful boy parts in
all their glory. His weapon was still erect, although 'rampant'
might have been a more accurate descriptor. Only the size of my
middle finger, it stood up at a seventy degree angle, quivering
as he walked to the sofa and sat beside me. His pouch was tight
and smooth below.

"Great to see you back, big boy", I smiled at Steve, "and I mean
that in every possible way. Now I have told you one private
thing especially for Steven, the KP badge and the KMA thing, and
to be fair, I want to tell a private thing to Trent". Both boys
looked at me expectantly. Trent looked a little sad because he
guessed he was probably going to miss out on a KMA. Steven
looked like the cat who had not only swallowed the canary, but
had made vigorous love to it prior to its demise.

Turning to Trent, I began: "Trent, my second private thing, is
that when I was your age, I too had a speech impediment, just
like yours. I had a very pronounced lisp. But I was lucky,
because my Patrol Leader gave me a cure".

Trent's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "But you talk real
nithe now", he stated in a shocked voice.

"Yes, and let me tell you how it happened. When I first joined
my Scout Patrol, I was very shy. I would hardly say a sentence
in public because I was so worried about my lisp. But before the
other Scouts could poke fun at me or bully me because of it, the
Patrol Leader told them he would personally make each of their
lives a living hell if they so much as looked at me sideways".

"That wath a good thing for him to thay", Trent said wistfully.

"But that wasn't all", I continued. "He asked me to stay behind
after our patrol meeting, so I did. He then showed me how to
cure my lisp, and within one year, it was gone".

"What wath it? What did he do? Pleathe tell me!"

It was heartbreaking to see the earnestness in his face, and to
hear it in his voice, but I was determined to get my rocks off
before my testicles exploded from overstimulation, so I pressed
on.

"My Patrol Leader explained to me that in order to correct my
lisp, my tongue muscles had to be strengthened. The best way to
strengthen them,  he suggested, was to give them a special
exercise". I paused, hoping Trent would pick up on what I just
said.

"What wath the eck-ther-thithe?", he pronounced, rather
pathetically.

"It wasn't that difficult, Trent. All I had to do was put my
mouth on his penis, and say a sentence: 'She sells sea shells by
the sea shore' forty times".

Trent gave me a suspicious look. "Ain't that jutht a blow job?",
he queried.

I was impressed with Trent's worldly wisdom. I wondered how a
ten year old would know about such things. But I was desperate,
so I pressed on.

"The rest of the sentence is 'And the sea shells that she sells
are sea shells I'm sure'. But I can see you are skeptical,
Trent, and you have every right to be. I think, to be a blow
job, you have to bob your head up and down on the person's dick.
This is nothing like that at all. What you would be doing is
what I did, all those years ago, and that is, exercising my
tongue muscles. But, if you don't believe me, no harm done, just
don't do it".

Trent was still very wary. Apparently all those talks in school
from Officer Friendly about Stranger Danger actually had some
effect. "But why doeth it have to be your dick?" he pleaded.

"I'll be honest with you, Trent", - (someone once told me that
line works on over 80 percent of boys) - "I don't know why. All
I know is I put my mouth on his dick for about ten minutes for
one night a week for a year, and I stopped lisping. It's up to
you. We'll still be friends afterwards no matter what you
decide. I guess all that matters is how badly you want to lose
that speech impediment".

Yes, I know, I am a horrible bastard who should burn forever in
hell for taking such shameless advantage of an innocent boy, but
you aren't looking at him. You can't see the wanting in his
eyes, the sensuous thick lips, the tiny raised nipples, the
freckles. And did I mention the freckles?

Trent looked across me to his brother, who was still on cloud 9
after his KMA. Steven just raised his eyebrows, as if to say
"Whatever?". With a look of resignation on his face, Trent bent
over to plunge his face into the fly of my boxers, wrestling
briefly with my stiffie as he released it through the opening. A
moment later I felt the hot little mouth, with its vigorously
working tongue, exert its magic on my knob. Overflowing with
lust, I twisted my upper body to Steven, holding my arms out to
him. He allowed me to enfold him, our lips meeting in another
deep kiss. I was still in the throes of this first kiss when I
exploded in Trent's mouth, but the little trouper appeared to
take it in his stride, as he continued his muffled speech
exercise.

Trent finally lifted his head after ten minutes, a total of six
hundred seconds of penile stimulation that I would not have
traded for all the gold in Fort Knox. My sperm trickled down his
chin and out his left nostril, but the brave little guy had a
look of defiance on his face. "Thame time next week for another
treatment?", he asked. "You bet, Trent", I replied. "One year,
my guarantee", I added, but he had already looked away to wipe
his face on his forearm. I turned my attention to his older
brother.

"Steven, I'd like to ask you something", I began. He looked up
at me with a look that said he was now beyond shame, having had
his ass kissed.

"When I gave you the KMA, I noticed that your anus, that is,
your hole, seemed to have been...er...not quite...virginal. Want
to tell me about that?"

"Dunno whatcha mean", he answered lazily.

"A Scout is always truthful", I reminded him.

He looked at me with a scowl, then with a kind of pleading look,
then with resignation. He grudgingly began his story, aware that
his younger brother was listening with rapt attention.

"About a month ago there was a basketball camp in the City. Fer
elite players. A kind of development squad. There was one place
given to our school for its best player. But our school doesn't
have a basketball team, just some kids who play a bit at
lunchtime. So they picked me to attend. They said I was good at
sports, so deserved to go. They gave me the day off school on
Friday, and there was a holiday on Monday, so the camp ran for
four days over the weekend".

"When we got there on the Friday morning, it was a big stadium,
with a full size indoor basketball court and everything, a
gymnasium, weights room, sauna, lap pool, squash courts,
cafeteria, everything. The basketball people had booked it our
for the four days so it was private for us. The first thing the
coaches told us ta do was ter have a shower and get ready fer
physicals. There were about thirty boys and eight coaches. All
the other boys were much taller'n me - I didn't even believe
they were eleven, but they all said they were. After our
showers, the coaches told us ta line up for our physicals before
getting dressed. So we were all naked, dripping wet, while the
coaches walked around and inspected us".

"One boy sprang wood when a coach lifted his...uh...balls up.
Another boy laughed at him. The coaches took the boy that
laughed out ta the front and held his arms out. They whispered
in his ears for a bit, and he sprang wood too. The coaches told
everybody it was no shame ter spring wood, that every boy does
it and it was a sign of manhood".

"We had four sessions of exercises a day, apart from practice
games, and the coaches said we had ter have three showers a day
so we wouldn't stink. We had ter do the exercises nude, so by
the time Saturday came 'round, mosta the boys didn't bother
gettin' dressed after exercises or showers. Nearly everyone was
naked all the time by Sunday".

"Most of the other boys had big dicks, and balls that hung down,
not like mine. And hair. Nearly all of them had some hair. A lot
of boys were hairier than my Dad. But nobody laughed at me
because of what the coaches did on the first day ter that boy
what laughed".

"On the Friday night, one of the coaches, Jim, said he had seen
my little dick, and that if I wanted to do something about it, I
should come to his room later that night. I thought about it,
and thought about all the other boys' big dicks, and I made up
my mind to go see him after lights out".

"When I got to his room, he told me to lie on the bed with him.
He said that I needed some male hor-mones ter make my dick grow
big. He said he had the hor-mones in his own balls, and he could
give 'em ter me in my bum".

"Jim rubbed my bum for a while, then he rubbed some slippery
stuff on my hole. Then he stuck his dick into me. He said he had
to fuck me to make the hor-mones come out. He fucked me for
about half an hour, till I felt his stuff shoot into my bum. He
held me close and said it took a few times for it to work
properly, so I  let him do it ter me again. I stayed in his bed
all night".

"Next day Jim found me takin' a shower. He said we better fuck
again, just to make sure it works. He bent me over and fucked me
right there. Some other boys saw but they didn't say nuthin'.
Then just before lunch everyone was having practice games of
basketball on the big court. Jim called me up to the skybox what
the commentators use. He stripped my shorts off and told me I
don't need to wear clothes no more. He bent me over the desk and
fucked me while we watched the practice games. He pushed extra
hard every time somebody scored. When he blew off he pressed the
time buzzer and everyone looked up and saw us".

"In the afternoon Jim took me down to the lap pool, and said we
should get in. He pulled me to the side of the pool and fucked
me while I hung onto the tiles. Some other boys were there,
watching us, but they didn't do nuthin'. One of them sprang wood
watchin' us, and beat off. He shot his stuff into the pool at
the same time Jim shot his stuff in me".

"That night I went to Jim's room again, like he told me to, and
he told me I had to sit on his dick. The bed squeaked something
awful, so we got on the floor and I rode his dick till he come
in me again. We got back up on the bed and I slept with his dick
up me for the rest of the night. I was startin' to get pretty
loose by then. I guess he fucked me again in the night, I can't
be sure".

"The next morning, Sunday, I was in the weight room using one of
the Nautilus machines. There were about ten other boys in there,
most of them nude like me. Jim came in, saw me, and came
straight over. He was half boned up already. He told two other
boys to hold my ankles back over my head so he could give me a
good fuck. He told them that boys like me need a lot of fucking,
and that they could have me when he was done. He fucked me quick
and hard, then pulled out and left. One of the boys that was
holdin' my ankle blew off on my face while Jim was doin' me. The
other one waited until Jim left and then took his place".

"At lunch on Sunday in the cafeteria, Jim made me sit in his lap
and ride his dick in front of everybody, even the other coaches.
I didn't feel much like eatin', so after Jim squirted in me I
went back ter the dorm ta lie down. While I was on my bed, two
of the biggest boys came along and fucked me, one after the
other. I just lie there an' let 'em do it".

"Sunday night I was too tired to visit Jim's room. On Monday,
Jim grabbed me after showers and took me to the basketball
court. About twelve boys were playin' a scratch game. Jim put me
over a bench on the side of the court and started fuckin' into
me, in front of the other boys. He told 'em whoever high-scored
could have me right there. That made 'em show some hustle. Most
of 'em were nude and a few of them had sprung wood. At half-time
he picked me up and carried me to the tip-off circle and laid me
on my back. 'Anyone want a free throw?' he said, holding my legs
back over my head and showing everyone my sloppy asshole. I
guess the other boys were kinda feelin' sorry for me by then
because nobody took him up on it".

"I was really tired by the time the bus dropped me off at home
on Monday night. I never even told Trent about this because I
was ashamed to be used by Jim like that. He never once showed me
love, he only fucked me. Today, you showed me real love, lickin'
my hole without tryin' to fuck it. I reckon I'll come back next
weekend, if you'll let me, ter learn more about the KP badge,
and other Scout stuff". A tear welled up in Steven's eye as he
finished his story. Trent sobbed quietly alongside me. I stood
up and helped Steven into his clothes, handing over the balance
of the twenty dollars he needed to fill his cookie order. He
gave me a wan smile as he headed for the door.

Trent buttoned up his shirt, then beckoned me to bend down for a
hug. I graciously complied, only to hear him whisper in my ear
"I'll come back too, for my next treatment. If you wanna fuck me
after, that'th okay".

I was left standing in my living room, eyebrows raised, watching
the backs of two boys, one a Scout, the other a Cub, as they
retrieved their bikes and cycled off. Only another seven days to
wait. I wonder how that Mikey03 movie turned out?

end

parrafan@ureach.com