Date: Fri, 27 Oct 2000 05:25:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Wishus Teglin <teglin@excite.com>
Subject: Three Weeks to Heaven book 2 chapter 8

Three Weeks to Heaven
Book Two, Chapter Eight

by Teglin
teglin@excite.com


FOREWORD:

My final thanks, at least in this story, to Ganymede.  Read the forewords
to previous chapters to see other things I've said about him.  Plain fact
is, I owe to him a truly great debt.  He showed me the way, in writing,
and more importantly in understanding my love for boys.  I started this
story to repay him, to try to give him some moments of pleasure in
reading and fantasy.  And so I finish it.

Other dedications will follow, but as always, this is dedicated to the boy,
wherever he may be, who needs love and care.  In short, dedicated to all
boys, anywhere and everywhere.

Copyright 2000 by Teglin.  You may freely copy this boylove romance
and distribute it.  Please have the courtesy not to alter it in any way.


WARNING:

This boylove romance contains descriptions of sexual acts between men
and minor boys.  Their sexual relationships are very important to the
story, as part of their love-making, but it is their spiritual relationship
that I wanted to explore even more, as the very essence of boylove.

If this story is illegal where you are, or for your age, or the concept of a
man/boy relationship offends you, don't read further.


Final comments (indulge me!):

Apart from my desire to thank Ganymede, and to write something he
would enjoy, writing Three Weeks to Heaven has been all about
presenting what I consider to be an ideal boylove relationship. Could
such a relationship happen? Yes. Will it? Has it? I don't know.
However, in the course of writing the story over the last three years,
I've been privileged to learn about some boylovers who certainly live
one aspect of my ideal. I want to dedicate TWTH to two of these men,
who love and care for the boys in their lives with every beat of their
hearts.

In his free time, Pawel runs a sports club for boys. Most of his boys are
too poor to get their own equipment. Pawel helps provide it. Most are
too poor to provide their own transportation. So Pawel makes sure they
never miss out. Some of the boys lack the attention at home that all
boys deserve. So Pawel makes time for each one. He teaches them how
to take care of themselves, but when they need help, he gives it. He
builds up their self-esteem, but is there to comfort them, when they fall.
He loves the boys, and you can be certain they love him.

Pawel, remember how Teg taught Wishus to fish, to cook, or to take
care of the farm animals? How he gave Wishus a sense of worth and
confidence? And how he comforted him when he was sad, or just plain
exhausted? That's the way I sometimes see you. I admire you beyond
measure.

Dax goes through life making good things happen. Twice he's opened
his heart and his home to boys in desperate need. Twice he's done
whatever it takes to meet their emotional, physical, and spiritual needs.
Well, twice that I know of. I suspect Dax has touched the lives of
others, as well. He has immense common sense, and the kind of good-
will that Will Rogers used to talk about.

Dax, remember how Teg decided he was going to find a way to make a
difference in Wishus' life, no matter what the barriers? Remember how
Teg put everything in his life aside, when Wishus needed his presence?
It was a selfless act. Yet supremely selfish too, because what Teg
wanted, is the same that you have always shown that you want - to
serve your boys with all your being. I call you 'boylover extraordinaire'.
Sometimes I call you a Saint! I guess what's more important, is that
your boys - somebody else's
throw-away boys - now call you Dad. May you and yours always
prosper, together.

Finally, some thank yous: Thanks to both the Michaels that I know.
You have been supportive in many ways.  To each of you, there's a boy
out there, just like Wishus, who needs you. Someday you'll find him.

Thanks to all the readers who sent me comments, criticism, and support.
I appreciated every one.

Thanks to Ty, who ... well, words fail me. What can I say about the sun
in the sky!? I met him after it all started, but it's his spirit and his
promise, that I tried to convey in this story.

A Special Note to Ty:

I have a favor that I would like to ask of you Ty. You have a new
brother that has lost much. Like you, he lost the love of his mom and
family at a young age. First of all with his mom's refusal to say the three
words that he so desperately needed to hear, "I love you". He has
bonded to you in a way that was never allowed by his 'old' family. He
looks up to you with the utmost respect and love, because you have
shown him your soul. Tristam worries about you. He does not want to
loose someone close to him again.

Second, his older brother was many times the source of his abuse. And
many times when things looked like they might become friends, he
would only betray that trust with shame. I know that Tristam has
attached himself to you, in a way acting like a guardian angel to make
sure you don't fall. You have scared us a couple times trying to cope
with things. And Tristam has sensed that from you. I know that at times
you get annoyed at him because he won't always give you that personal
space. But take it for what it is. He loves you very much, and probably
more than words can say. And I want you to promise to him that you
will never let him down. And to promise him you won't abandon him
like his real family did.


Chapter 8

"I never ... thought you would want to ... touch me there, Teg," Wishus
said in a voice just above a whisper, hushed and hesitant, almost
breathless.  I knew he felt just as I did.

His lips were rigid, almost grim  His little nostrils flared, filling with the
pungent, musty scent that perfumed our little bedroom.  His most
private scent ... from between his upraised legs, from that always moist
and secret place between his parted cheeks, from the puckered little hole
of his anus.

My chest tightened.  I breathed with effort, through lips taut and tense.
I felt like my whole face was pinched, skin drawn tight with emotion.
With lust.

His eyes were little circles of ... fear?  No.  Wishus had no reason to fear
me, ever.  It was ... expectation ... desire, a desperate yearning for
something we had never given ourselves before ... but now we would.

We both were crossing a line set by our own inhibitions.

Morning sunlight streamed in through cracks in the brightly lit lace
curtains, warming us against the chill.  Dust motes floated in the still air
of our bedroom refuge.  The three feet of new snowfall, the icy
temperatures - all were forgotten, as we gazed with pent-up lust into
each others eyes.

"I've wanted to touch you here for the longest time, dearest," I
answered, my own voice husky with the constriction in my throat.  "Oh
God, how I've wanted this moment ...."

I pressed the pad of my right thumb across the rim of his tightly
stretched anus, and very slowly pushed to and fro, and in circles, around
it.  His heaving chest told me that it felt so good to him.

"Why ... didn't ... you say you wanted ... it?" he asked.

"I was afraid, Wishus.  Afraid that you might think ... it was dirty."

"Maybe it is, Teg.  But please don't be mad at me for touching myself
there.  It does feel so good, and ...."

"It's not dirty.  It's part of you.  I love every part of you.  When you
withdrew your finger, would I have kissed it, and sucked on it, if I
thought it were dirty?"

"I guess not.  So, you don't think it's wrong for me to play with myself
there?  I've been doing it when you weren't looking.  I'm sorry I hid it
from you, but ...."

I lifted my thumb from the heat of his soft and pliant hole, and brought it
to my nose, and smelt deeply of the aromatic, penetrating, pungent
scent.  It was intoxicating, literally, and I felt my eyes rolling up in their
sockets, and my head lifting, as if floating.

'Oh dear God!" I cried out, almost in pain, I was so delirious with the
joy of this moment.  My back arched, I lifted up on my knees, and all
seven inches of my erect penis slid smoothly up along his upraised butt
crack.  I shuddered, in what could only have been a mini orgasm, a
spontaneous release, brought on by Wishus' most private scent, by the
magic of this moment, and what it might mean for our future.  Droplets
of my pre-cum spilt onto his balls and the underside of his dick.

"Did you cum, Teg?!" Wishus whispered in awe, as he reached down
between his upraised legs, grasped my shaft with both his hands, and
with his thumbs started sliding the gooey coating all over my glans.  He
pulled back my foreskin, and I cried out again, as he spread the cum all
along and beneath the ridge of my glans.

"No ... I don't ... think so ... but I ... will if you ... keep that up!" I
gasped.

A knowing little smile formed on his lips, and his eyes glistened,
sparkled.  He let me go, and slid his cum-slicked fingers down my thighs
lovingly.  My dick slapped softly back down between his buttocks, and
he seemed to want to hold me there in that position.  I could have taken
him then!  Plunged my tool deep within him ... yet ... we had never
even talked about such a thing.  I could not do it, could never do it,
before he asked me to!

"Well, what do you want to do with me there, Teg?" he asked, forcing
me on.

Wishus seemed driven now.  When I had awoken this morning, I found
him already awake, lying on his side, facing away from me.  His legs
were drawn up and he had one hand buried between his butt cheeks.  In
surprise, I could see he was probing there!  Rays from the sun shone
down on him from every opening in the thin white curtains that were
drawn across our bedroom windows.  He looked like a white marble
model of a boy, skin mottled with light and shadow, almost unreal in the
perfection of his lines and the smoothness of his every curve.  A boy lost
in self-exploration and gratification.

I had arisen quietly upon my elbow, only to find that his eyes were
closed, and he was obviously feeling waves of quiet pleasure  - his head
lolled, he breathed through his open mouth, each breath labored and
audible.

"That is perhaps the loveliest sight my eyes have ever beheld," I said, to
show him that I was awake.

His eyes sprang open, and he rolled his head back to me, looking panic-
stricken.  "I'm s-s-sorry, Teg! I s-s-s-shouldn't be ...."

"Hush!" I whispered, and gave him a quick understanding smile.  Why I
thought to do what I did next, I don't know - but it seemed to be just
the right thing to tell him that pleasuring himself like that was just fine.
I reached down and placed my hand over his, where he had jerked it
from between his cheeks.  I slowly lifted it to my mouth.  He rolled over
onto his back, staring at me wide-eyed, looking astonished.  He had
been probing himself with is middle finger, and it still stood out separate
from the others, moist, coated with his inner essence.  I folded his hand
in at his wrist and brought the anointed finger to my lips.  I kissed its tip
first, then sucked it into my mouth and savored the ripe taste!

His mouth dropped open in wonder.  Then he smiled quizzically as I got
up on my knees, lifted his closest leg over me, and positioned myself
between his legs.  I dared finally to do what I had wanted to do for all of
the six months since we had been safely back at our Arizona ranch.  Not
a day had gone by, without us making love, but never had I dared to ask
him for this prize.

"May I?" I whispered, looking from his eyes, down between his legs,
and then back up, in entreaty.

"Yes," he answered, hoarsely.  He lay back, his slim white arms laying
straight out flat upon the bed, his palms up.  He had lost all the golden
tan of the past summer. His tiny pink nipples stood up hard, plainly
visible against the nearly translucent, pale white flesh of his unmuscled
chest.  I could see the lines of every rib, his breastplate, collar bones, his
shoulders - all boy, all gloriously tender, sweet, beautiful little boy!

For a moment I caressed the tops of his slim thighs, splayed on either
side of me, then I reached beneath both his knees, and slowly,
reverently, raised his legs, up, up, up, till they began to press back upon
his torso, pulling his bottom up with them.

His little two inch penis, still hard from the pleasuring he had been
giving himself, pointed straight up his body towards his face.  His
ballsac was loose, laying flat, spreading like it was molded over the two
little marble sized testicles within.  The skin of his scrotum hung down,
laying flat upon his bottom.  From beneath, the fine, upraised ridge of
his perineum flowed straight back, a raw, pinkish-red line, leading to the
edge of his anal ring, falling within, deep down into him, into the
smooth funnel that led into my boy's body.

Now, the faint, pungent scent of Wishus's most secret spot, drew me on.
That he would let me gaze so openly upon it, was the truest sign of his
love for me that he had ever given.  I dared to wonder if he would let
me taste it.

Many times, while sucking him, or undressing him, I had glimpsed his
anus.  I had even brushed it, sometimes pressed against it, when making
love.

This was different.  Totally different.

He looked up his long, smooth, perfectly white body at me
beseechingly, almost begging me to go on.  There was a look on his face
now, that I had never seen before.  I had seen him in the throes of
passion.  I had seen him wanting and waiting, and expecting, to be
kissed.  I had seen his eyes afire, when his body was on the brink of
climax.

Yes, this was different.  Truly different.

There was a longing in his look, yet something akin to apprehension
too, all mixed up with daring and wanton desire.  His chest rose in
short, quick, staccato increments, as he tensed for feelings,  pleasures ...
fulfillment ... that he had only dreamed about, before.

His private spot, his secret recesses, were not just 'there', for my
exploring hands to enjoy.  He reached up now and put his hands behind
his knees, keeping his legs widespread.   Was he freeing me to explore?
As I knelt lower, I knew not where to start!  His balls were right under
my lips, completely vulnerable.  His penis was turgid and inviting, hard
and so virile, calling to me.   And then, I could  feel his muscles strain,
to lift himself further, to bring his most sacred spot to my lips.  To my
loving touch.  To my eyes.  To my nose.

Wishus.  God on Earth.  He was laying here, in my grasp, opening his
very being to me alone!

I suddenly felt feint again, with the enormity of it. I looked deep into his
eyes, once more exchanging assurances with him, before lowering my
head to take what he had offered me alone!

My tongue extended out as of its own accord, and licked the very
bottom of his ballsac, then I  slipped both of my hands around his thighs
and beneath him, cupping his buttocks and lifted up.

Slowly, savoring the taste and texture of his flesh, I began to lick
downwards along his perineum, towards his anus.  The taste was a
precious mixture of the earthy, slightly salty flesh itself,  and the
pungency of his sweat ... and the fluids that inevitably seep from within,
from his hole.  He could have bathed ten times just moments before, and
I knew I would still taste it.

What a useless concept, in this instance – the concept of `clean'!
Involuntarily I uttered a weak, choking moan of my own fulfillment.
Essence of Wishus!  I was tasting his essence as never before
imaginable!  I've tasted his lips, his ears, his neck, his nipples, his
glorious boyhood, his toes, his thighs ... now I tasted from within his
precious body!

I licked closer and closer to my prize, letting my saliva mix with his
bodily excretions, then licking it up hungrily.  The ridge of his perineum
was rough in comparison to the surrounding tissue, a tiny, tender saw-
toothed line.  As I slipped along it, I knew Wishus could feel the
abrasion of my tongue.  He squirmed, and I felt the heat of his inner
thighs tightening reflexively against my face.

My spirit soared.  I just couldn't believe this was happening!   I was
giving myself to wanton lust, yet still I was attuned to my boy's
pleasure.   If only I could impart to him my gratitude for the treasures he
was granting me.  I wanted this to be so pleasurable for him that it
would forever overcome any of his inhibitions.  It was the first step
towards our ultimate union.  I knew that.

He had freed my hands, holding his legs back over his torso himself.
With my right hand I started caressing and kneading his thigh and
buttocks, cupping them, pressing them into my own cheeks.  I reached
across the bottom of his upthrust thigh with my left, and gingerly
grasped his penis, my thumb pressed lightly just beneath the bottom of
his glans, two fingers pressing from above.  Very slowly, naturally
falling into a rhythm with the motions of my tongue, I started jacking
him, letting his foreskin tighten over his glans, but not yet pulling it
down all the way, as I so loved to do.

I felt the tip of my tongue slip into the depression of his hole.
Tentatively, I pointed my tongue and probed the tiny corrugated folds of
his entrance.  Then flittered it all around his hole.   His body squirmed,
pushing up against my tongue, as if he wanted more.  So I boldly
flattened my tongue, and swiped his anus broadly - feeling his body
tense and jerk, as a million nerve endings exploded simultaneously.  I
couldn't help but moan deep in my throat, savoring the taste!

His own moans echoed mine.  I realized suddenly that I had my eyes
closed.  I opened them and looked up his body, to see that he lay with
his head back, his own eyes closed, eyelids fluttering.  He was breathing
hard through his nostrils, his lips pressed tight against one another.  His
hands clutched tightly behind his knees, and his calves pointed straight
up into the air, framing his angelic face.

I listened.  His moan was unconscious, not something he even knew  he
was doing!  It sounded monotone, unthinking, an automatic response to
sensations he had never felt before. It sounded almost as if he had
temporarily lost his mind, like something one might hear from a mentally
retarded boy, who moans unknowingly.

Then he pushed against me, and I knew he was indeed conscious on
some level!  He pushed his bottom up towards me, almost demanding
more pressure on his anus.

I complied willingly, washing, laving, sucking, probing lovingly for long
moments.  Could a boy cum from this?!  I knew the anus was
remarkably sensitive, but like this?!  Wishus was in veritable throes of
ecstasy at these new sensations from my tongue!  He began to move his
bottom in little circular patterns, timed to my probes and licks, timed to
the steady rhythm of my fingers stroking his little dick.  He clenched and
unclenched his butt cheeks, at one moment pressing in on my face, at
others pushing to make me fall even deeper into him.

My cupping hands were drenched now in my own saliva, mixed with his
own inner juices.  I didn't know it was possible, but I tasted the
moistness oozing just barely perceptibly from his rectum, in response to
my probes.

With my thumbs smeared in the slick juice, I caressed and pressed into
the cushiony flesh of his cheeks, occasionally letting my whole palm
spread the slick substance all over his bottom.

Finally, I gave myself to his gift, and lowered my nose to his sanctum,
burying it, pushing into his ring.  I breathed in deeply, feeling the juice
enter even into my nostrils, carrying it's essence of Wishus!

It's a potent drug, one that I was already hooked on.  I couldn't stop, I
could not remove my nose, I could not stop breathing in, to the point
that I become light-headed.  I would have stayed buried like that
forever, if I were here to satisfy my own desires.  I was here for more,
however, to bring him to the heights of pleasure too.

With one final lick, one final taste and whiff, I backed off, and let myself
look upon Wishus's sacred, secret spot.

It was as virgin white as the rest of his perfect body, yet somehow more
so.  That white that is so clear and translucent, that it becomes pink
from the very rush of the life-giving blood within.  It was like a little
funnel, an elongated funnel, all sides of it sloping to a perfect little point
within him.  I thought for a moment how it would look when I had
finally stretched and forced it's crenellated folds to open wide, to accept
my manhood.  I knew that in my passion and his, combined, Wishus'
anus would be abused.  That wasn't really the right word, because it
didn't express our love for each other.  Yet it is the right word, because
I would stretch and pound and rub and suction his sensitive, virgin flesh,
till it was red, perhaps bluish and bruised.  I hoped his anoderma, that
special skin just within the very portal of his rectum, would not split and
bleed, under my pounding, but I had no doubt that neither I, nor
Wishus, would stop, if I felt it rupturing.  If ever I were to fuck him, it
would be his choice.  He would want me to be inside him!

I was still stroking up and down on his dick.  He was still breathing
hard, just on the verge of his orgasm.  I decided it was now or never, to
try something I had dreamed about all my years.  Something I
remembered doing with Demetrio and Rolando.   If I did it right, I knew
it would not be long before Wishus and I would fuck.  He would want it
as much as I did.

The preparation was done.  His anus was slick inside and out.  My
thumb - my whole hand - was sloppily wet with my own saliva and his
anal excretions.  The very air around us was wet and heavy with the
earthy fragrance!  I moved back between his legs just enough to give my
right hand better access, then lowered my palm down flat upon him.  I
continued to stroke his penis with my left hand, and now fingered his
little balls with my right, letting my right thumb reach down towards his
hole.

His little anus seemed to have a mind of it's own.  With every pump on
his penis, with every motion of his hips, with every gasping breath, it
was opening and closing of it's own accord, with a barely audible, wet
smack!  I could literally peer into his depths as it opened so slightly, and
get a glimpse of the slick, reddish-brown inner walls of his sphincter and
intestines.

I lowered the pad of my thumb to cover it, and on it's next rhythmic
opening and closing, it sucked me in!  He groaned loudly, feeling the
rougher texture of my thumb, where he had felt my probing tongue
before.

My heart was racing.  I must have looked like a madman, eyes wide, my
fevered passion written all over my face, with my intent to penetrate
into my little boy!

I started to pump on his dick a little faster, gripping his shaft a little
more firmly.  His whole pelvis responded immediately, circling wider,
lifting higher.  With the each lift I let my thumb fall a little deeper into
his rectum.  I felt the strength of his sphincter muscle all around its tip
now, squeezing, resisting, then suctioning in even more.  It hardly took
any pressure from me at all, till finally I was lodged completely within
his anal ring, fully three quarters of an inch, almost up to my first
knuckle!

He was so tight!  Now I met resistance.  The suctioning force, the
rhythmic opening and closing, now changed to rhythmic squeezing, as if
he intended to bite off my thumb joint inside his rectum.  It was so
deliciously wet and hot!   His sphincter was so strong!  Deeper too, than
I had expected.  It wasn't just a ring of muscle, right at the opening of
his anus, but it was more like a band of muscle, almost half an inch  in
depth.  How delicious it would feel if it were my penis lodged there!

I let my thumb just rest there where it was, and remembered to
concentrate for a moment on his penis and testicles.  Wishus loved to
have his balls massaged and tugged a bit when I jacked him off.  So now
I used the fingers of my right hand to exert just a slight pressure, flat
against his scrotum, pressing his balls into his perineum, and pulling
them down just slightly towards his anus.

He screamed out, above his moans.

"Oh ... God ... Teg! What are ... you doing ... to me!"

"Loving you, Wishus," came my guttural response.

Again I started pushing with my thumb, in time with my hand pumping
his dick.  In ... In ... In ... never letting it come out, but pushing in just
slightly more each time.  Soon I made his little muscle stretch to take
the width of my first knuckle.  Then it slid in more easily beyond that,
like a dam bursting, all the way to the base of my thumb.

Most of my feeling was concentrated in the pad of my thumb, and the
sensations there were incredible!  The smoothness, the silkiness of the
inner lining of his rectal passageway ... the heat of it ... the wetness.  As
my thumb slid along the passage, I could actually feel his innards.
Where was his prostate!?  That's what I wanted to find.  Could I feel it?

Wishus suddenly screamed out again, just as I felt a slight, squishy
resistance pressing against my thumb, from outside the lining of his gut.
I pressed again, and his whole body lifted and spasmed, and he cried out
incoherently again.

"Eeeeeehhhhhhhaaaaa!" he screamed.  Through his labored breathing he
tried to utter something.

"You ... touched someth ... oh my ... God ... you found ... that spot ....
ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh ... Teg!  Oohhh ...oohhh ..
ooohhhh ..."

He started moaning in time with my pumping, and with the now
rhythmic massaging of what I knew must be his little prostate.

I remained silent.  I couldn't even think to talk.  I was poised ramrod
stiff, bent over him, now feverishly trying to keep up the pace, then to
gradually increase it.  Smoothly, firmly pulling up and down on his dick,
gliding the soft skin over his shaft up and over his glans, then all the way
back down again, with each relentless stroke, now baring his glans to
the air.  Still massaging and pressing his testicles, rolling them around
now, letting the pressure on them get more and more forceful - seeking
that glorious verge where the excruciating pleasure could turn to pain,
but never getting there.  My own hard dick lay right there beside his
balls, and I pressed them into my rigid shaft.  I kept plunging the base of
my thumb in and out of his now wide-stretched anus, letting all those
nerve endings fire over and over and over.  Add to all that, I never let
up on his prostate, going around and around it, pushing, probing.

His moans became more staccato.  "Uunnhhh!... uunnhhh!...uunnhhh!...
and I knew he was going to cum like never before.  Wishus could cum
time and again, and I made sure he did everyday!  We had refined our
jacking and sucking techniques to an art, after making love with each
other for the last six months, and I knew how to make him sing every
time.  This one, however, this one was going to be a cum to remember!

"OOOOHHHHHH ... Sweet ... Jesus ... Teg ..." he screamed as his
orgasm finally hit.  As always he practically lifted his whole body off the
bed, slamming his penis up higher than ever inside my grasp, forcing his
foreskin back even farther, stretching his engorged glans down and
down, adding to the moment of overwhelming pleasure.  I became rigid
myself, stopping all my pumping and massaging and rubbing, holding
onto his penis for dear life, pressing down firmly on his balls, and
pushing my thumb in as far as it could possibly go and holding it there
tightly.

We were like a static display for one second, as his body arced up off
the bed.  He lost his breath for that second, and suddenly there was only
the sound of my own rasping breath.  Then he shuddered, and spasmed
repeatedly.

It was like he was impaled on my thumb, like I was holding him up
there.  I let him down gently back onto the bed and released his dick,
letting it flop onto his tummy.  He let go of his legs, and as they started
to fall forward to me, I let my thumb slip from his anus with a little plop,
and moved my arms so he could lay out flat, to recover.

"That was ... like ... I never ... dreamed ...," he panted.

"You liked it ... huh?" I asked unnecessarily, with a beaming smile.

"It ... it was ...." he didn't finish.  Couldn't find any words.  He just
beamed back at me, shaking his head, and flopped both his arms out
onto the bed, palms out.

"Well, now you know what I wanted to do down there!" I said,
mischievously.

"Yeah!  Hey Teg, do you think ... that you'd like me to ... do that to
you?" he said in a rush, the idea popping into his head that if it felt so
good for him, it would for me too.  He always wanted me to share in his
ecstasies.

"Hmmh, maybe sometime, sweetie.  But right now, let's just savor this
moment, ok?  You know I get my greatest pleasure just from making
you happy."

"I know you do, Teg.  I know you mean that.  Well, ok, but it's my turn
though.  At least I get to suck your dick!" he said, as he scrambled up
onto his knees before me.

"As you wish, my boy.  As you wish.  My body is yours," I said, as I
allowed him to push me back onto the bed.

He snuggled up on his knees between my legs, and bent to grasp me.
With one hand he pulled his hair back from his eyes, as he lowered his
lips to my glans.

I brought my thumb, my anointed thumb, to my nose and breathed in
deeply, then lowered it to my mouth.


---------------------


We did our morning routine like always.  Our winter morning routine,
that is.  When you're locked in by three feet of newly fallen snow, and
two more below that, you tend to take things a little more leisurely.  The
stock all had plenty of hay.  We'd dig our way to the barn a little later.

We're kind of funny.  Both of us liked to sleep in the nude, but pull on
our nightgowns in the morning, till after breakfast.  Somehow seemed
more cozy that way.

I got the fires going in the kitchen and living rooms.  Wishus helped
with the cooking.
We ate breakfast together right there at the kitchen table, still in our
nightgowns.  Still awash in the afterglow of our love-making.

Wishus blushed more than once.  I guess I did too.  We didn't talk about
it, directly, but we both knew.

It was a new level of intimacy.  My heart skipped a beat, each time the
thought of my face buried in his bottom popped up.  I knew he felt the
same way.  He had been playing with himself back there for some time.
Now he had let me in on his secret, and we had shared in the breaking of
a taboo.

We would always be closer, because of what we had done this morning.

Wishus kept giggling.  I went along, feeling just as giddy as he did, until
he went too far, and spit toast crumbs all over the table!

"What!?" I exclaimed, wrinkling my brow, trying to look stern, as if I
had no idea what was on his mind.

"You knoo-oo-oo-ww-ww," he giggled again, and smiled so wide that I
could see the unchewed sausage and eggs inside his mouth.  He twisted
his head side to side, mocking me, his eyes just gleaming with delight.

"I have no idea!" I protested, trying to look stern, and failing.

"You had your finger up my butt!" he scoffed.  He wiggled his head
again, with the word 'butt', pronouncing it something like 'bu-ei-utt'.

"Hmmh," I grinned.  "Yeah, I did, didn't I?  But it was my thumb.  This
one right here."  I brought my right hand up, my thumb extended out
from the other fingers, and sniffed it.

"Mmmmm ... sweet!"

He started to answer, but I knew I caught him off-guard with that little
compliment.  He stopped, mouth open, and then dropped his fork, and
put both his hands on his hips defiantly.   "Well, I've put other things up
there too ... oops!"  His hands flew up to cover his mouth.  He was still
giggling, though.

'Oh yeah?  Very interesting, young man.  Like what?"

"Well, I guess the brush handle is my favorite ...."

"You mean our hair brush?" I acted like I was angry.   He didn't buy it.

"Oh well, I washed it off afterwards, every time, Teg."

"Yeah, well, I guess you know now that that wasn't necessary for my
sake!"

"Yeah," he quietened down, and peered at me speculatively, his brows
raised.  "You ... really liked doing it, huh?"

I took a deep breath of just overwhelming satisfaction, at being able to
say this: "It was glorious.  It's part of you.  I ... want to do it again ...
sometime ... if you'll let me."

"Yeah," he almost whispered, and blushed again,

We both fell silent, lost in the glow of just being together, being able to
talk about things like this.  Knowing that it would, indeed, happen again.

Finally I pushed my chair back, stood up, and started to clean the plates
off the table.  "Why don't you go get dressed, Wishus.  I'll clean up here,
then we can go have some fun shoveling a path to the barn."

"Oh, great fun." he said, rolling his eyes.  "Better shovel a path to the
outhouse first, ok?  I think you made me loose back there!"

He got up and turned towards the door, giggling again.   He slipped his
hands back to press his butt cheeks together through the flowing fabric
of his gown, stood on his tippy-toes, and pranced away, as if he just
couldn't contain it any longer.

"Oh get out of here!" I threw the washrag at him, laughing, as he
danced through the doorway.


-------------------------------


I listened for the tell-tale sounds.  He should be putting on his clothes,
maybe making the bed if he felt really energetic ... tinkling into the
chamber pot.  Those were the sweet morning sounds I always listened
for.  I didn't need birds chirping their wakeup melodies.  I didn't even
need the bright rays of the sun shining in.  My good mornings were
defined by Wishus.

Hearing nothing, not even the scrape of his bare feet on the even barer
wooden floors of the hallway, I went searching for him after I finished
cleaning the kitchen.

He wasn't in our bedroom.  Apparently hadn't gone there at all.  I
started to worry.  This was unlike him, out of the ordinary.  Given that
our morning sex had been something new, I suddenly feared that I had
indeed hurt him.  Or maybe he was indeed too loose `back there.'  Or
....

I found him in the living room, standing framed by an aura of bright
sunlight streaming through the large picture window.  The curtains were
drawn wide, and the room was flooded with the sun's radiance.  Or was
it his?

He was, after all, as bright and golden as the sun.  Certainly life-giving.
For me.

I had labored hard, and spent a good part of my fortune, to make my
ranchhouse something more than the typical Western cabin.  Glass for
the windows – I defied all the jibes from everyone around, to ship those
in.  Now all the nay-sayers would confess to their mistake, if they could
just once see Wishus standing here.

The fabric of his nightgown was aflame with the light.  It caught the
suns rays, seemed to soak them in and spread them to every fiber, to
glow like a lamp around my boy's body, framing him, letting me see his
every line and curve through the now transparent gown.

His hair shone too, with highlights so glaring that I had to blink.

I wanted to rush across to him, and gather him into my arms, and make
love to him again, right now, right here!  He was so slender and straight,
such a little boy!

I felt the blood rushing through my veins, and my penis lifting within my
own nightgown again.  Oh dear Wishus, you are lovely beyond words.
Let me make love to you!

But why was he standing here like this?  So quiet.  Unmoving.  Pensive?
Was he crying?  Was he ....

"Wishus, are you ... are you ok?" I managed to contain my passion
enough to ask it.  He had but to say the word and I would rush to him.

He turned, finally aware of my presence.

I blanched.  He looked almost forlorn.  So concerned by something.  As
quickly as I had become aroused, I slumped within myself.  Had I hurt
him in someway?

"What's wrong, honey?" I asked, walking towards him, arms
outstretched.

He turned towards me, and let me pull him into my embrace, but kind of
fell into me limply, his arms slowly rising to grasp my gown about my
waist level, tugging, folding, twisting the fabric.  Something was
bothering him.

"Is this about what we did this morning?   Does it bother you, Wishus?"

"No," he said, mumbling it onto my chest.  I lowered my lips to his hair,
breathed in his scent, and kissed him there.  He kissed me back, right
through the fabric of my gown, lightly pecking my chest.  I felt like the
weight of the world lifted off me with that little kiss.  At least he wasn't
angry with me!

He turned in my grasp, slowly, gently, so that I knew he wasn't trying to
break my embrace.  He wanted to face the sun, to look out upon the
brightly-lit snow covered meadow.   Our ranchhouse was built up high.
It took five steps to get up to the veranda surrounding the house – the
new snow covered the steps completely, and extended off unbroken,
lifting to the very bottoms boughs of the trees at the edge of the
meadow.  We were socked in completely, and the vista before our eyes
was simply beautiful.  White, sparkling, frigidly cold.  Leaving us so
close and cozy, together, inside.

"I've been thinking," he started off quietly, singing his words in that
flute-like voice of his, so high, so sweet.  "Wondering about something.
And I've wanted to ask you to ... do something for a long time, but ...
maybe now, after this morning, I can ...."

He paused.  I didn't say anything for the longest time, waiting for him to
go on.  He just reached up and grasped my arms with both his hands,
and folded them even tighter around his thin chest.  Through his gown, I
felt the soft pads of his thin pectoral muscles and the tiny tips of his
hardened nipples.  He was aroused.

I was almost breathless, wondering, waiting.  What could it be?  What
could it have to do with our love-making this morning?  That I had
finally tasted and touched and penetrated his bottom.  That we had
shared a new intimacy.  That must be it.  But how?

Finally, I said, "Wishus, you know I'll try to give you anything, if I
possibly can.  Or talk with you, about anything.  If it's about what we
did this morning ...."

"How long are we going to be together, Teg?" he interrupted me.

Certainly not any question I had expected!  And one fraught with import
for any boylover.  For any loved boy.  For us.  A question I had not
expected Wishus to be concerned with for many years.  One that I had
thought on many times.  Questioning the very nature of boylove.   One
that I no longer had any doubts about, to be sure.  I hoped I could
convince him of that.

"I'll ... I'll answer your question with another question, Sweet.  How
long will our love last, Wishus?"

"I'm not sure, Teg."

Again not what I had expected!  His answer shocked me.  I could have
let it hurt, but it was of paramount importance to hear him out.

"What do you mean, honey?"

"Teg, I know I'll love you forever, but ...."

"I'll love you forever too, dearest!" I rushed to fill that unspoken void.
"You don't doubt that, do you?"  I gently twirled him around, needing
to see his eyes, to see what he was feeling.  He looked up at me
questioningly.  I kissed him on the forehead and hugged him tighter.

"I don't want to doubt it, Teg."

"Have I ever led you to believe otherwise?"

He raised his brows.  "Well ... you once told me about our special love,
how some men love boys, and ... well, I know you love me because I'm
a boy.   I won't be a boy forever, Teg.  The letter you wrote, the Ode.
It's all about me as a boy ...."

His words started to tumble over one another, and I could see tears
starting to well at the corners of his eyes.

I crushed him to me, wrapping my arms around him bodily, making him
feel every bit of me around him, so that he would feel so secure and
loved that he could never doubt again.  Then I lowered one hand to his
bottom and lifted him up and carried him to the couch, at the side of the
large window.  I sat down and curled him onto my lap, his head against
my shoulder.

I spoke into his hair, softly, soothingly.  "No Wishus, you won't always
be a boy.  I know that.  You will, however, always be the one and only
Wishus.  Yes, I'm a boylover.  I'm attracted to your little boy body and
your little boy spirit.  You should know, however, that there is much
more to boylove than that, dearest."

He lifted his head from my shoulder and shifted his little bottom in my
lap, so that he could look at me, peer into my eyes.  His eyes were
rounded and questioning.  I knew he was listening with all his heart.

"There's the joy of serving you, through all your days.  The deep, deep
satisfaction that comes from being with you as you grow.  Helping you
along your way.  It's the growing together that raises us up above the
plane of normal existence, Wishus.  That's what makes boylove such a
beautiful and wonderful and exciting part of nature's plan for mankind.

"I was given this lust for little boys' bodies for a purpose.  YOU ARE
THAT PURPOSE!  You were given that same kind of love for a man.
For ME!  I think our love is for all time, Wishus.  I think therefore, that
you and I will be together for all time!  We must.  Do you see?"

"I think so." He blinked, meekly, wanting to believe me.

"I'll be here for you, with you, as long as you want me, Wishus.  You're
like a little fledgling birdie.  I'm here to live with and love you, to help
you learn to fly.  I'll fly with you, wherever you want to go, if you'll let
me."

"If we're to be together always, Teg, then is it ... like we're ...
married?"

"Well, now ... I never considered it that way, Wishus, but ... yes ... I
guess we are married!  We share everything in life together, we want to
be together always, we do everything together, for each other.  Yeah!" I
exclaimed, delighted with his suggestion.  "We're married, if you'll take
me for yours, to have and to hold, till death do us part!"

Wishus just lit up, then, smiling so broadly.   He wanted to feel that way
too.   "I do take you for mine!" he giggled.  He twisted around, pulling
his knees up, till they rested in my lap and leaned over me bodily, his
hands now on my shoulders, pushing me back.  He pursed his lips, and
brought them to mine.  Just as my back found support against the sofa
cushion, he opened his lips and let his tongue slip between mine, wetting
me.

He let his legs separate, and his knees slipped down across my hips.  I
felt the stab of his little penis dig into my lower stomach, where he
squirmed in time with his probing tongue.   My own hardening tool
lengthened rapidly, almost instantaneously, and I felt my half-bared
dickhead slip under his gown, and lodge forcefully against his perineum.

"Ummm ... we didn't ... make out ... this morning," Wishus
murmured, as he started in on one his `around the world tours', as he
called it.  Every morning we generally cuddled together after waking.  It
always led to us kissing.  He liked to nibble at my lips, taking them in
between his teeth or his lips, and going all around my mouth like that,
`around the world.'  It usually led to him humping me, his little dick
gliding up and down against my stomach.  I would stroke a bit, but
usually wanted to save my cum for later in the day.  I preferred to just
caress and stroke him!

"Yeah ... well you ... distracted me ... and I got to ... kiss you
somewhere ... else.  Remember?"

Our morning makeout sessions sometimes went on for twenty or thirty
minutes, till he had cum against me at least once.  Sometimes more.  It
was the only way we could get anything done around the ranch!  We
had to get the edge off his libido.

Now however, being socked in by the snow, I figured we might extend
this session.  I started humping the soft, inner surfaces of his thighs,
moving around so my dickhead would go from side to side, slipping up
against his satiny flesh.

Suddenly he pulled back, breaking our kiss!  He was no longer sad, but I
could see that his mind was still churning on this idea of us being
married, of how long we would love each other, and be together.  He
lifted his torso, stiffening his arms, his hands still braced over my
shoulders.  He kneaded my muscles there, and sat back, crushing his
dick hard into me.  I felt my dickhead slip firmly up between his butt
cheeks!

He looked at me quizzically, speculatively.  It seemed that he still
hesitated to say everything he wanted.

After a pregnant pause, I finally said, "Something else on your mind,
sweetheart?"

"Yeah.  We're married, but ...."  He started to say something, then
paused again, pursing his lips.

"But what?"

Never one to let his fingers remain idle for long, he started fiddling with
my gown, fingering the lining of my collar, and looking from there back
and forth into my eyes.

"Well, there's one thing we don't do.  One thing we can't do, Teg."

What's that, honey?"

"Hmmh ..."  he said, almost bashfully, lowering his gaze to my chest.
"Uh ... remember, you said that when a man and a woman love each
other, the man puts his ... thing ... in the woman's hole ... there, where
a man has a peepee, but women don't.  Pits it in her body."

"Yeah.  I remember talking about that.  Back in the Valley ...."

"Yeah, that's how they make babies, remember!  Have a family.  We
can't do that, Teg.  I wish we could have a family together.  I wish I had
a hole down there so you could fill me with those sperm, and we could
have babies, just like married people.  And we could be ONE together,
like we talked about before ... and I was thinking ... that if you would
... put your ... dick ... in me too ... back there ... where you kissed me
this morning ... you said you liked it, Teg!  I know you loved it.  And
...."

He had grown almost breathless with the sudden rush of his words,
seeming to think that if he could only continue talking, I wouldn't have
a chance to refuse his wish.

"Hush, hush, sweetie," I placed my index finger over his lips.  "Of
course I'll make love to you that way, if you want it.  You really have
been doing some thinking, haven't you!"  I was amazed at myself.  Here
he was asking for what I had wanted for so long, yet I met the moment
with such calm.

"Yeah, and Teg, I've been putting things in there, just to try it, and I
know you could get your peepee in there ...."

"Oh God, Wishus, you are so wonderful!  Yes, we can do that.  It's my
greatest dream too, dearest.  To be a part of you, that way, to fill you
with my love in every possible way.  Like men and boys who love each
other have been doing through all the ages."

"What do you mean, Teg?  You mean this isn't just my idea?

"Well, you know, it really is your idea.  You thought of it.  It's just that
other boys and men have had the same idea all through the ages."

I gulped.  The enormity of the moment really did finally hit me.  "It will
truly ... make us like we're married, darling Wishus," I spoke softly
now.  "Through all time, as far back as we know about in history, men
who loved their boys, like I love you, have ... fucked their boys ...."  I
lost my breath.  I felt a tightening in my chest that made me almost feint.

"Fucked?" Wishus asked.

My heart pounded!  My dick raged!  I literally felt it pounding in rhythm
with my heartbeat!  My heavy balls tightened up against my body, as if
ready to spill my seed within him right now!  Hearing that lovely word
from his mouth was the greatest aphrodisiac I could imagine at that
moment.  My Wishus, saying the word `fuck', and knowing it meant I
would join my body with his, that I would actually insert my penis into
his bottom!  He would pull me in, I would plunge in!  We would be
One!

`Yes, dearest," I managed to croak out, then regained my voice.  "We'll
fuck.  I'll fuck you.  You want me deep inside your body, Wishus?"

"Yes!" he almost shouted, at the same time he jerked his body against
me.  I felt his still hard dick press into me again, felt the softness of his
little balls glide along my flesh just behind it.  He scooched up, until he
was sitting just below my sternum, his body stiffening in his excitement.
He bounced up and down on me, and said, "Now, Teg.  Let's do it now.
Let's ... fuck.  Would you fuck me now?"

His eagerness, his willingness, hit me like the double blow of a
sledgehammer!  I was thrilled that he wanted us to join together in this
ultimate act of love, yet suddenly I panicked.  Just as I feared I always
would.  It was as if my mind suddenly raced through all I had learned.
From books.  From Rolando!  From Joey and Tonio.  Yes, doing this
was the way Wishus and I had to consummate our union.  I knew I
could make him feel my love that way, and I just knew that I wouldn't
hurt him.   Mustn't hurt him!

I let my hands roam up along his sides, and held him firmly there, his
body rising so statuesquely above me.  "We will make love like that,
Wishus.  We will fuck.  But let's ... let's ...."  I fumbled for words.
Not wanting him to know that I was nervous about this.  I didn't want
him to think that I had any question about wanting it.

"Let's do it tonight, honey.  It's an important step, I guess you could
say it's like a wedding ceremony for us.  I want to make it special for
you ... for both of us."

"Ok," he said calmly, thinking it over.

"Never any doubts again, Wishus.  Not after tonight."

The darling boy just melted against me then, letting himself slide back
down, scraping his dick across my thrusting member, and lowering his
chest to mine.   He smiled so sweetly, angelically, accepting my words
without even a trace of doubt.

"Yes, Teg.  Tonight, then.  I know all about weddings, Teg.  I've been
to them.  Are you going to give me a ring?  Before we fuck?"

"I'll ... give you a ring, dearest.  Then we'll fuck."

--------------------------

Neither of us ate much at lunchtime, and neither of us wanted any
supper at all.  The jitters, I guess.  We did get a pathway cleared to the
barn ... and to the outhouse.   Checked on the animals.

Most of the day we spent apart.  It was so odd.  Wishus and I had
hardly been out of each other's sight, voluntarily, for longer than a
minute, since I had rolled his near-frozen and lifeless body up with mine
in the tarp, just after he killed Big John.

Now suddenly he discovered his own room.  We always shared my bed,
every night, and he rarely even went into his bedroom, even keeping
most of his clothes in mine.  Now today, he spent the entire afternoon in
his room.  I wondered what he was doing, but didn't intrude on his
privacy.  I somehow felt the same need.

With each passing minute during the day, we were creeping up onto the
crowning act of our union.  We both knew it.  Perhaps there's some
instinct within humans to withdraw into themselves, on the brink of such
moments.

I took the time to just think about our trails through life, how both of us
had reached this culminating moment.  As dusk fell, I was left with two
things, from all my ruminations:  a sense of gratitude that I was a
boylover, that I had been granted whatever life force there is that makes
some men love boys, that I had finally met my boy; and a sense of
calmness, complete and utter assurance, that joining with Wishus was a
positive good in both our lives.  I was blessed, by whatever gods there
are.   I knew Wishus was blessed too.

Wishus was still quiet in his room, his door closed, when I finally left
mine, and went into the living room to stoke the fire.  It was dark out
now.  A moonless night.  I left the curtains before the big picture
window open, so we could look up into the blackness of infinity and see
the stars shine their brilliance down upon us.  The virgin white snow
reflected even the starlight, and there was an ethereal glow about us,
surrounding the ranch-house and our meadow – I almost wept at the
beauty of it all.  I felt like angels were watching tonight, and it was the
glow of their gossamer wings that lighted our world.

In the ten foot open space between the couch and the lounging chairs,
which framed the large window, I laid first a thick padding of bearskin
furs upon the large throw rug that covered the hard wooden floor.
Upon the furs, I laid our softest blankets.

I looked at myself one last time, brushed and smoothed the wrinkles
from my broadcloth formal vest and pants.  What to wear on the night
of your honeymoon, I had wondered all day.  What would Wishus want
me to wear?  Finally I had settled on my finest clothes.  Shoes polished
till they shone in the lamplight.  A soft white silk shirt with ruffles.
Black tie and vest.  Wishus didn't mind my stubble.  He often giggled
when I would scratch his inner thighs with my whiskers.

I stoked up the fire, adding enough logs to battle the frigid winter cold.
I figured we might be in here for a good long while, maybe all night!
The house was built solid, but I wasn't such a good carpenter that a
wisp of cold didn't seep in here and there.

Then I waited. Getting more nervous by the minute. I hadn't seen my
boy for hours! Had he decided he wasn't ready for this? I heard an
occasional rustle from the direction of his room, down the hallway. An
occasional creak from the floor boards.

All else was silent.

The winter storm had passed by with the leading edge of the cold front,
leaving behind a crystal clear sky, obsidian black, but studded with tiny
diamonds, and the frosty trail of the Milky Way. I stood still before the
picture window, just staring out at the wintry vista, for at least a half an
hour, waiting, wondering, hoping, fearing, wanting. I looked out. I
could see the snow, the stars, the frosted spruce, but don't ask me to
describe it now, for all my attention focussed on Wishus. Where was he?
What was he doing? What was he thinking?

Was he thinking of me?

I closed my eyes at one point, trying to envision him. How he would
look, as we made love tonight. How he would look as I entered him for
the first time.

Suddenly I felt like I was dreaming. It was Springtime. The air was
light, and scented with Mountain Jasmine. Oh! ... I remembered how
before we left the Valley, Wishus and I strode across the meadow, hand
in hand, to the far side, seeking the Jasmine that we knew was there,
because it so brightened our world with it's glorious perfume.

We found it, cascading down a rock outcrop, flowing like a waterfall
with green tendrils. Wishus literally bathed its scent, rolling in the vines.
I laughed and laughed, and vaulted him and twirled him around. We
both luxuriated in the beauty of Nature, and the wonderful joy of being
together. He finally plucked a few sprigs, saying he would keep them
forever, to remind him of our Valley. Where we had met.

I opened my eyes almost reluctantly, not wanting the dream to go away,
yet still so on edge, waiting, wanting ....

The scent remained!

It was here! In this very room!

Turning on my heels, I had to draw in my breath in surprise! There he
was! My boy!

And oh God, how lovely he was! The hours of silence, of whispering
rustlings from his room, were all explained in an instant.

He had crept in upon me, on bare feet! Letting only his sweet scent, and
that of the dried Jasmine garland he wore as a crown upon his golden
hair, announce his presence. It must have taken infinite patience for him
to weave the dried flower sprigs into a delicate wreath, to lay like a
diadem upon his head.

I started to cry, right then and there! My breath caught in my throat, as I
moaned incoherently. Tears started to stream from the corners of my
eyes. One simply cannot witness godlike beauty, and stand mute,
unmoved! His hair was combed to a silken sheen, flowing in soft ringlets
and curls down to his shoulders. I felt paralyzed! I tried to raise my
hands, tried to utter a word, but could not! Dare I touch him!? Dare I
try to tell him of his own beauty!?

I could not say then, if he were a god indeed, or a boy. Were they one
and the same, then? Surely. Truly!

He had taken down one of his curtains, separated the sheer, soft white
lining from it, and fashioned a gossamer wrap from the lining, draping it
over his right shoulder, down his back, and then around his waist!
Through it's diaphanous folds I could still see his pale flesh, his tiny pink
nipples, the soft curve of his belly, his dainty little penis peeking through
just above the hem of the fabric! His gloriously long, smooth legs were
naked from the tops of his thighs down to his wiggling little toes.

"Men since time immemorial, have taken their boys, as you will take me,
tonight, Teg," he said, as if he had practiced it. Like an incantation. "I
read about it, this afternoon, from that book of yours. On the classics.
So I thought I'd look the part."

He lifted his arms and held his hands out, presenting himself to me. "Do
I look like a little Greek boy, ready for his man? I tried to make myself
look like one of the pictures I found there, of little Alexander."

My breath stuttered in my throat, as I tried to speak. I finally was able to
say, "Youuuu ... look ... this must be how Alexander conquered the
world ...."

My eyes must have been wide with wonder. At least I had stopped
crying. He was real. He was mine.

"I surprised you, didn't I!" he laughed, and did a slow twirl to display
the results of his labor.   His pert little bottom lifted up the skirt, and the
bottom of his crack was visible below it.!

"You certainly did, Wishus," I muttered, shaking my head in awe.
You've never been lovelier, and to think you did this for me, for ... this
night ...."

"It has to be special, tonight, huh Teg? You dressed for it too. Though
you don't look like any of the men in that book." He stepped closer. In
command of this moment. His words. His bearing. All revealed the
truth.
He was indeed a god. Or the young Prince Alexander. Or just a little
Greek shepherd boy. Whatever form of BOY he wanted to be! And I
was here for him. I was his man.

I reached for his hands, but he slipped one down to slide his fingers up
the rigid pole of my erection, My dick had risen of its own accord,
straight up, feeling like it would burst from the fabric of my pants. Pre-
cum began to ooze already, and my balls felt so full. They almost hurt.
Tonight I would pump my seed into him.

He smiled up at me naughtily, still massaging my tool, with his
unspoken question, 'Are you ready?'

I looked down, and saw that his own little penis was erect now too, it's
head pressing out and up, against the transparent mesh of his toga. I
stepped into him.  He raised his arms up to me, as I wrapped my left
arm behind him, just below his shoulders, and cupped my right hand just
beneath his little bottom, then lifted him, pulling him in to me,  feeling
the fabric of his skirt crumple into his soft buttocks.  His little balls and
his dick pressed into my stomach. He locked his arms around my neck.,
and gave his weight to me, letting me hold him,  his legs dangling off the
floor, as we let our lips meet.

There we stood, kissing and holding each other, all 6'2" of me in my
Sunday best, all 4'10" of him  - a little waif, dressed in his vision of the
loved boy. Man and boy. Truly wed.

Wed, but for the ring I had promised him.

I bent at the knees and lowered him down, till he could stand, then
continued to my knees, and knelt before him.  From my vest pocket I
took a little band of gold and held it out for him to see, resting on my
cupped fingers.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, smiling in delight, his eyes big with wonder,
looking first down at the ring, then into my eyes.  "You did get me a
ring!"  He looked so happy, filled with childlike joy at the surprise.

"Yes, I did, sweetheart.  A very special ring it is, too.  Shall I tell you a
story about it, before slipping it on your finger?"

"Oh yes, Teg!  Does it have a special story?  Wherever did you get it?"

"Well, you notice it's a small ring."

"Yes."

"It's small, because it was my ring, when I was just about your age."

"Oh?" he cocked his head a bit, as he so often did when he
contemplated a new wonder in his life, staring down at the ring so
intently.  Curls of his hair hung down loosely, golden lockes springing
into motion with the slightest turn of his head.

"Yes, it was mine.  It's a ring of love, Wishus," I said solemnly.

"A ring of love?"

"Yes ... I ... didn't know it then, when I first got it, but ... in time ... too
late ... I realized it."  I couldn't help but feel the distant pain of old
memories again.  Wishus saw it in my suddenly half-closed eyes, heard it
in my hushed tone.  He reached out with both his hands and brushed my
hair back.  I felt like a supplicant before him, receiving his healing touch.

"Why too late, Teg?" he asked softly, soothingly, letting his thumbs
smooth my brow.

"Ahhh ...." I had to tilt my head up a bit to look into his eyes.  He was
so concerned for me, that I could see he might break into tears if I let
my memories overcome me.  I didn't want that!  I had a story to tell, but
it was meant to make our wedding vows even more meaningful.

I forced myself to smile just a little, and was gladdened to see the
immediate change in him, in response.  He became all tenderness and
understanding and patience.

"What happened with this ring, Teg?" he urged me on.

"Well ... when I was your age, Wishus, I attended a private boarding
school for several years.  It was a wonderful time, with all my friends
and ... one very special older boy.  He was ... oh, 18 years old, when I
was 11, I think."

"What was his name?" Wishus asked.  He let his hands fall, one to rest
on my shoulder, the other to hold my free hand.  I still held the ring out
before us.

"Fletcher was his name.  Fletch, I called him.  He took me under his
wing, helped me with my studies, let me join in with the older boys
sometimes, out playing ball - oh, he was just wonderful with me,
Wishus!  He ... he seemed to always be there for me.   We spent so
much time together.  And yet, there was always something sad in
Fletch."  I shook my head, feeling the regret again.

"I didn't understand why until much later, when I began to realize that I
was a boylover.  You see, I think Fletch loved me, Wishus.  Like I love
you.  But he never told me.  He never told me, until it was too late.   It
was he, who gave me this ring, the evening before he left the school the
last time.  He gave it to me, and told me to let it always remind me of
our time together.  And that's what I always do, Wishus.  I look at this
ring, and I try not to remember what could have been, but what we did
have together.  All the closeness, the good times, and the unstated love.
I think Fletch was a boylover too.  He gave of himself to me without
limit."

"That's what I do, Wishus.  I love you without limit.   I want to give
myself to you, without limit.  To me, this ring represents that total love.
I hope it will, with you too.

"It will, Teg." Wishus said.

"So.   With this ring, dearest, I thee wed," I intoned, my voice low,
almost whispered.  I took the ring from my palm, and took his right
hand, holding it flat, with his fingers out.  I slipped it on his third finger.
It fit perfectly.  "Will you be mine?"

"Yessssss," he whispered back to me, with such feeling!  Then he lifted
his hand to his lips, and kissed the band of gold.

"Do you take me, too, Teg?"  he asked.

"I do, dear Wishus."

He let me guide his hand to my lips, where I also kissed the ring.

We didn't speak again.  It wasn't necessary.  I simply lifted him up as I
stood, again cupping his soft buttocks in my right hand, holding my left
arm below his shoulders.  Our lips met again, and then we parted them,
letting our tongues begin to explore. The taste of him was so sweet! As
was the hot air I felt strike my cheek from his nostrils.

I carried him to the very center of our bed of furs and blankets, and
gently lowered him bodily, kneeling to lay him flat. Only when his head
touched the blanket did our lips part. He lay there, one side of his body
lit by the licking yellow flames from the hearth, the other by the softer
glow from the lamp at the head of the couch. He held his hands up
briefly, as I released him, as if he didn't want to let me go, then let them
drop to the soft fur padding. The soft, thick hairs of the furs let him sink
within, forming a sort of frame all around his body.   The halo of dried
jasmine that he had placed round his brow, slipped off, to lay above his
head.

His delicate white wrapping had slipped down along the slope of his
shoulder, and pulled up above his pubis. His little cock beat
rhythmically, pulsating in time with his heart. His balls hung loose within
his sac, warmed by the fire.

Darkness enveloped us above, in the rafters, from outside, beyond the
window, and through the hallway door. It was just Wishus and Teg,
alone in all the world, finally ready to consummate our union.

I stood up tall and straight above him, and began to disrobe. We still
didn't speak.

I pulled off my shoes first, tossed them to the side, and then undid my
pants. I watched Wishus all the time, and when my pants lowered to
release my dick, his eyes were fixated on the mighty shaft, as it swung
out and down, to bob from between my legs. My heavy balls dangled
loosely below, announcing my readiness to inseminate my boy.

I stepped out of the pants and tossed them on the couch. then stepped
down from the little boy's side, to straddle his legs, just above his thighs.
He pulled his legs in together, as I stepped over him, giving way, letting
me approach him, but not yet completely submitting to me. Was he in
doubt now, seeing my manhood over him? Did he now fear it? Fear it's
penetration into his body, fear how it would feel, when I pushed my
dickhead in, to stretch his anal ring?

If he feared, if he doubted, I would let him choose the pace, the time. I
would not force him!

Wishus must have sensed my own doubts. Whatever his own fears, he
conquered them. Suddenly he lifted his legs, and placed his hands on the
insides of his knees, and separated them, revealing once more the way to
his most private treasure.

I looked into his eyes, and he beckoned with them, beseeching me.  He
offered himself to me.  Once again, just like this morning, he pulled back
with his hands.  His skirt fell up even more, revealing his bottom and
baring his hips and pubis, all the way up to his lower tummy.  His flesh
was just as virgin white before, but I saw just the hint of added redness
dipping into his little anus.

I quickly undid my tie, unbuttoned my vest and shirt, and threw all of
them aside.  I was completely naked.  I wanted to be.  I wanted to feel
Wishus' body against mine as I fucked him, wanted his very flesh to be
mine.

We knew it was time.  My boy must be fucked.  I knelt between his legs
and looked down, across the expanse of his body to again meet his
beseeching glance.  I noticed his coral necklace, and suddenly reached
up to finger my own.  I could never be completely naked, after all.  The
necklaces were symbols of our union too, tying us together, binding us
always.  Every time I saw his choker, or felt mine so snug around my
neck, I felt our possession of each other.

"We'll do it now, honey.  Dearest."  I uttered softly.

He smiled weakly.  I noticed suddenly that his penis had begun to
soften.  And his ballsac was now drawn up tight, pushing his little balls
up into his body, leaving just the corrugated surface of his scrotal flesh
to my view.   He was indeed afraid.

"We'll take it slow, Wishus.  Trust me, ok?"  I said, now beseeching
him.  "I want to be in you so bad, dearest, but I'll take it slow."

"I ... I ... I  want you ... inside me, too, Teg," he stuttered meekly.  His
voice was more high-pitched than normal, and weak with his fear, yet as
always he was trying to think of me first!  Trying to make me feel good.

Too bad there are no manuals on how to fuck a little boy.  Rolando had
certainly taught me a few things, but now at the moment of truth I
realized I had forgotten the lubricating cream that he had always used!
Was it necessary?  This morning Wishus had become so slick, almost
sloppily slick, with my saliva and his bodily juices.  I stemmed my
momentary panic, and decided to take the time to get him wet again.

"First ... first,  I'm ... I'm going to use my fingers, Wishus," I assured
him, "and then ... when you tell me to, I'll put my dick in you.  Ok,
sweet?"

"Yes ... Teg," he said, still meekly, yet willing to submit to me.  His
fingers were kneading the undersides of his knees, nervously drumming
and digging and stretching.  His bottom pushed up and down erratically.
His eyes were on my hands, not my own eyes.  He watched my every
move.  I needed to calm him, to relax him.

"I love you, Wishus." I said, as I reached out to place my palms on his
upraised thighs, to begin to caress him.

He gasped, still out of fear.  "I ... I love ...."  He was starting to
breathe in short little gasps.

"Shhhh.   Shhhhh, sweetheart ...." I whispered, as I started to stroke up
and down his thighs slowly, gently.  Not even coming close to his hole,
or his genitals.  "You don't have to say anything, sweet.  Just lay back.
I'll take it slowly.   We'll only do this when you're ready, honey."

I followed his worried eyes.  He was staring at my engorged penis,
which was arching up so proudly from between my legs.  It strained
against my foreskin, forcing it back, down my glans, almost baring it's
furious, purplish, raw might.  Cause enough for Wishus' fear!  At the
same moment I was speaking so softly to him, calming him, my dick
was contradicting me, straining, as if to seek immediate entrance into
my boy!

Still stroking him with my left hand, I grasped my dick and pulled back
the foreskin all the way.  I looked from it back to Wishus.  He was
staring at it still.  No way I could gainsay the evidence!  So I just had to
reassure him again.

`I'm so hard for you, Wishus," I said softly.  "Look at my precum.  I'll
smooth it all around my dickhead, to make it slick for you.  It will go
into you easily, smoothly.  This is the way it's meant to be, dearest.
Remember, only when you say you're ready."

"Oh ... ok ... Teg,"  he answered, finally looking back up into my eyes.
I smiled at him, lifting my brows, questioning him.

"Trust me?" I said.

"Yes."

And he meant it.  He closed his eyes briefly, laid back his head upon the
blanket, and then opened them again.  "I'm ok, Teg.   Please make love
to me.  I want you inside me.  I want us to be One, like we said."

"We will, sweet.  We will be One.  Now relax even more, for me.
That's it."

I saw his brow smooth even more, his shoulders relaxing a bit, falling
back.  He consciously tried to breathe more slowly.

"Good.  That's it, Wishus.  Here, you don't need to even hold your legs
back like that.  Just relax.  Just let me do all the work, honey."

"Ok, Teg," he said, as he let go of his legs and let me lower them to the
blankets.  For a moment he didn't know what to do with his hands, and
fidgeted about, brushing a wisp of hair from his eyes, twiddling with the
sash of his Greek boy's dress, flopping to rest on the blanket, then back
up into the air.

I smiled understandingly, and leaned forward to take both his little
hands in mine.  I kissed each in turn, marveling once again, as I always
did, at their delicacy, at how short and soft were his fingers, how
smooth was the skin on the back of his hands.  And now, how lovely the
gold band looked against the pure white of his flesh.

He liked my gentle kisses.  I felt his arms relax.  He smiled too, his head
still resting back upon the blankets, looking down the length of his body
at me, under those long, golden eyelashes.

"My God, you're beautiful!" I exclaimed, though softly, as I gently
placed his hands upon the blankets at his sides, then let my own hands
begin to wander and explore the bare flesh of his left shoulder, the
length of his neck, the choker necklace, the soft, lacy fabric of his gown.

"I want to make you cum first, Wishus!  It will ... fucking you ... will
be easier, I think, if you cum first."

"Yes, Teg.  Please."

With my left hand I started to ever so lightly finger his ballsac.  I traced
my fingertips over the wrinkled, tightly-drawn surface, trying to coax it
to relax and release his balls down a bit.   He giggled!   So I pressed a
bit more firmly, not wanting to tickle him, and began to pluck his
scrotum up, pulling it out between the tips of my finger and thumb.

I slipped two fingers of my right hand under the now flaccid, almost
wieghtless length of his little dick and lifted it.  It was no more than an
inch or so long,  and thinner than my little finger.  The loose foreskin at
the tip draped down over the bottom of my index finger.   With my
thumb, I pressed into the sensitive area just at the base of the underside
of his glans, where his foreskin attached at the frenum.  Wishus loved
me to massage him there, and as he always did, he started to get hard
again.   Sometimes at night, I would put him to sleep beside me on our
bed, just gently caressing him there on his penis, making him hard, but
just letting him luxuriate in the sweet sensations, not bringing him to
climax.  How I loved to see him drift off to sleep, his lips curled up at
the corners with the pleasure of it.

Now he lay back, and I saw his eyelids fluttering, closing, then opening
again.  His gaze was turned inward now.   He was giving himself over to
the pleasure of my caresses, becoming lost in my touch.

As his shaft lengthened and  hardened, I started to jack him, first lightly,
then lengthening the stroke gradually, up and down, farther, farther, till
his foreskin started to stretch over his now swollen glans.   With my left
hand, I started alternating the massage of his ballsac with broad, random
caresses down his thighs, across his tummy and sides, sometimes letting
my finger tips graze the hardening nubbins of his nipples.  Always
returning to his balls.  They did begin to loosen, as Wishus felt the
warmth from the fire, and the inner warmth of his body, responding to
my loving.

We rarely spoke much during our love-making.  I sometimes whispered
my love to him, but Wishus would just become totally wrapped up in
the sensations, almost losing conscious control.  I always thrilled at
what I could make him feel, and as now, when he began to move his
body in sometimes random, sometimes rhythmic response to my touch,
it was all the communication I needed.

I kept the stroke long and slow, pumping his dick lightly, not wanting
his orgasm to be cataclysmic, as the final act of our night together,
rather just the beginning.   When I jacked him off like this, he was
always ready for more, either wanting to do me in turn, or wanting to
flow into my arms and hump his still hard dick against me to another
orgasm.  Or sometimes he would stand immediately, and bring his dick
directly to my lips, seeking entrance into my warm mouth.  I always
obliged, taking him in, and pulling him down upon me.  He would end
by fucking my mouth, or I would soon roll him over, and suck him off.

Tonight would be different.  As I jacked him slowly, I let my left thumb
start to plunge lower and lower along his perineum, till it penetrated to
his little pucker.  He immediately responded, widening his legs even
more, and once again, seemingly without conscious thought, raising
them, and pulling them back over his chest with his hands.

His eyes were closed now, and he was beginning to whimper  and mew
softly, so I wasn't sure if he was even aware that he was opening
himself to me again.  Or was he following instinct?  Was he doing what
little boys had been doing through the ages, and offering himself to his
man?

I continued to jack him, pressing just slightly harder and harder,
squeezing sometimes with the pad of my thumb, as I grazed the
underside of his glans.  With each downward stroke, I now pulled his
foreskin all the way down, tightly, and made his glans stretch over the
hard shaft beneath of his dick head.  Slowly, slowly I pulled up, then
down, the entire two and a half inch length of his erection.   His balls
were now loose, and with each upward stroke, his ballsac lifted them up
high.  I could see the hint of their blood engorged bluish color, through
the near transparent whiteness of his scrotum.   With each downward
stroke, the two little orbs dangled free, and flopped back down upon his
taut bottom.

As I jacked, I started grazing his anal opening with my left thumb.  Then
I would raise my hand and broadly caress the sensitive undersides of his
thighs, where they stretched over his torso.  I don't think he knew
where the sensations felt the best, because he rolled against my hands,
seeming to follow them, first pushing up against my thumb, then shifting
to the right or left as my roaming hand caressed him.

Quickly I brought my thumb to my nose, and breathed in, wanting again
to be intoxicated by the odor from his most private spot.  It was heady,
yet so sweet!  I licked it, tasting the ripeness, the tang!  I dropped some
spittle upon it, and once again brought it back to his opening.  I swiped
the moisture across him, then started to daub it into and around his
pucker with the tip of my index finger.

Again I brought my left hand to my mouth, and this time deposited more
spittle upon my three middle fingers.  I mixed that with my oozing
precum, spreading it all over my bared glans, then shifted my hips
forward, and lowered the head of my dick to his opening, pressing it
down firmly.

He felt it!  He opened his eyes immediately, in obvious alarm.  The huge
shaft of my penis had to feel very different to him from my finger or
thumb.

"I'm not going to push it in yet,"  I hastened to reassure him again.  "I
just want you to feel it.  And I want very much to feel you!"

"Oh!  Ok, Teg ... I trust you," he said, trying to speak through the
building waves of his impending orgasm.

"Good."

"It ... feels so ... good, what you're ... doing!"  he exclaimed, laying
his head back down, and closing his eyes.

It felt good to me too!  The feel of the hot flesh of his butt cheeks
folding over my shaft as I pressed it into his crack, and pushing against
his anus, was sending waves of pleasure up my penis too!  I pushed
down from the top of my shaft, making my soft, pliant glans dip into his
funnel of his rectum, smearing my spittle and precum all around.   In
time with my fingers on his little prick, I slowly started to slide my dick
along the groove between his cheeks.

This was something I knew I couldn't keep up, lest I cum right then and
there.  Fortunately Wishus was nearing his orgasm, long before I would.
I refused to quicken my pace however, loving the way he was trying to
take control with his body, lifting his pelvis off the furs, trying to force
me to stroke harder and faster.

Wishus signaled his climax in lots of ways.  He would become flushed
sometimes, redness touching his cheeks as if he had stepped out into the
cold winter air.  His legs and arm would stiffen too, and flail about
erratically.  Most of all I loved it when he would start to ramble to me,
almost incoherently.

He gave all those signs now.  His face was so beautiful, his blush
making the green of his fluttering eyes sparkle even more, and seeming
to brighten the golden lustre of his flowing hair.  His nostrils flared,
taking in deep drafts of air, as he held his lips rigidly closed.  They were
flushed red too.  I wanted to kiss him now, so badly!

The rambling usually started just before his orgasmic peak.  Like in the
midst of all his overflowing sensations he suddenly wanted to share with
me.  He started now.

"Teg!"  he muttered lowly.  Calling to me, wanting me to listen.

His chest heaved, and his stomach muscles rippled, sometimes sinking in
to form a deep depression below his breastplate.  He was grasping at the
blankets with one hand, and pulling on his diaphanous, sheer white
gown with the other, unconsciously lifting his skirt up higher and higher
across his tummy.  His little belly button winked at me over and over,
with the heaving of his tummy.

"I'm getting ... there ... Teg!"

I just kept pumping, slowly, slowly, relentlessly, watching, feeling, and
thrilling to the electrifying sensations that I knew were rippling though
his body now.    My own dick swept over my slowly pumping hand,
with each slide along his crack.

"Faster ... I need ...."

"I love you, sweetie," I whispered.  But I didn't give in!

"Please ... can't ... control ...."

I knew the climax was just on the verge when he suddenly released his
legs and they shot down around me as if spring-loaded.  Convulsively,
his thighs suddenly became rock hard and tight against my legs, pushing
in on me.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh   Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeg!" he cried, arching his neck
as he always did.  This orgasm was nothing like the explosions he
sometimes had, which would literally lift his body off the bedding, in
shuddering convulsions.  Instead it seemed to flow in slow motion,
starting at his midsection, and the vice-grip of his thighs against mine.
Then his tummy tautened and stayed firm, and his chest stopped rising
and falling, and his eyes stopped fluttering.  They were open, and I saw
his eyes roll up, till I could see the white of his orbs.

I immediately stopped pumping on his jutting penis, and lifted my cock
from his crack.   My seven inches jutted over him, as I knelt back and
again lowered my left hand down between his legs, to continue to probe
and massage his anus.   I wanted this orgasm to flow immediately into
the next, so that Wishus would indeed want me inside him, and ask me
to enter him, needing me in him.

"Oh God, yes!" he exclaimed, finally regaining control.  He blinked his
eyes, and shook his head.  Instantly, his legs loosened, and fell away
from their vice-like squeezing against mine.  He brought his left hand to
his chest, and pressed his finger tips to his nipples, alternating between
them, slowly massaging.  At the same time, with his right, he reached
down to his little cocklet and balls, and cupped them, and squeezed his
shaft.

"It was good, huh?" I smiled, continuing to rub within his crack.  I
brought my fingers all the way up, and pressed them into his perineum,
massaging his prostate from the outside.  I hoped to soon touch it again,
from the inside.

"If only you ... knew, Teg!  I thought you would never ... let me cum
though!"

"Sweet torture," I chuckled.  "You're getting wetter down there,
Wishus.   Are you ready for more?"
Even before he answered, I let the first joint of my index finger crook
forward and into his hole, pushing it lightly.  It slipped into his rectum
easily, with so little resistance.  He felt it, even in the afterglow of his
orgasm, and immediately started to raise his legs again.

"Oh Teg, are you ... going to do it ... now?"

"Not yet, honey.  We'll take it slow."

"That feels so good down there," he said softly.  I could hear the
momentary exhaustion in his voice, mixed with his boyish eagerness to
begin again.   His dick was still rock hard.  It never lost its erection
between orgasms.

I swapped hands, letting my right delve down between his legs, to split
his cheeks.  With my wet slickened left hand,  I again tenderly grasped
his penis.  It was still wet with my spit and cum, so I ever so gently
pulled his foreskin back and with a feather like touch, I started
spreading the fluid around his moist, inflamed glans.  It was almost fiery
red, like the flames in the hearth.  With my fingertip still lightly touching
the slit at the tip of his dickhead, I started to very, very gently stroke
him again.

The sharp, penetrating scent from Wishus' bottom was lifting into the
air now.  I loved it!  I couldn't get enough of it!   I breathed deeply,
reveling in the thought that I was breathing this very different essence
from his body.

As he pulled his legs back, and locked his hands behind his knees again,
I once more had full view of his bottom.  My hand had shifted around,
as he rose against it, but I kept my finger tip embedded within him.
Now I started to slowly revolve it around within the slick ring of his
anal muscle, probing, and pushing out against the ring, trying to widen
it, loosen it.  I brought my middle finger to his orifice, and let it rest
there momentarily, then started to push.

He gasped lightly, but didn't show any sign of discomfort.

"Two fingers now, sweetie.  I'm going to try to loosen you up a bit,
ok?"

"Ok, Teg," he breathed.  I glanced up quickly, almost loathe to take my
eyes off my prize.  He was again resting easily, with his eyelids
fluttering, almost closed, letting the sensations flow through him, from
his penis, and now from his anus.

My two fingers together, were bigger around than my thumb.  But he
had had the brush handle up his bottom, and that was just as big, so I
knew this would be no problem.  I just wanted to take this in gradual
stages.  His anus elongated, only slightly resisting my push, and the first
joint of my middle finger was lodged with him, alongside the shaft of my
index finger.  I let it rest there briefly, then extended the finger all the
way, pushing, stretching his muscle, feeling resistance now.

"Oooooooh!" he breathed out.

"Is it ok?" I asked, almost panicking, ready to withdraw.

"Yes!" he said, louder, more forcefully, eagerly.  "It feels great, Teg.
Can you find my spot in there?"

"Your spot ... oh ... yeah, where I kept touching this morning?  From
inside you?"

"Yeah!  It really feels good when you rub me there, Teg.  Almost like
jacking off, but ... inside me, you know?  There!"

"I got it, huh?"

Yes, you definitely ... GOT IT!"

"I did it again!"  I chuckled, loving this.  I pumped both fingers in and
out slowly, trying to make sure they came into contact with his prostate.

"Is this ... what you're GOING ... to do with your ... DICK, Teg?"
Every time I touched his gland, he lurched, bodily.

"Yes, honey.  This is fucking.  I'm going to slide my penis in and out,
just like this."

"Do it now, Teg!"  he begged.  "I want to feel your peepee in me.
Please, now."

"You need to be a little looser, honey.  I'm going to try three fingers
now, ok?"

"Ok," he answered immediately, and I sensed the renewed trepidation in
his voice.  He did want me in him, but at the same time, he too was still
unsure, knowing that my three fingers would be more than he had ever
had in there.

I lowered my mouth to his balls, still gently stroking his penis with a
light touch.  I licked them, then literally scooped and rounded them up
with my tongue and sucked them into my mouth.  At the same instant, I
withdrew my fingers from his anus, lined up the third finger with the
other two, and without missing even a bit of the rhythm I had started, I
pushed all three against his sphincter, widening it, forcing it, arresting
its' closure.

He stiffened under me.  I felt his thighs and buttocks tighten beneath my
arms, but he didn't release his hold on his legs.  I sucked hard, pulling
his balls into me, and simultaneously plunging my three finger tips past
his tightened guard.

"Ohhhhhhhhh" he yelped.  A high, sweet yelp, not fearful, but accepting.
He consciously attempted to relax, but I felt his thighs and bottom
reflexively tighten and loosen, along with his sphincter.  He could
consciously control his sphincter, but it's also one of the body's
automatic muscles.  He couldn't stop it's alternating dilation and then
it's tight grip, seeking to expel my fingers.

"I ... feel ... like I'm going to ... have an ... accident, Teg!"  I could
hear the near panic in his voice.  He was embarrassed, suddenly.  Once
before, after we first arrived at the ranch, he had gotten sick again.
Probably something in the water.  He had involuntarily pooped in his
pants one day, and had felt so bad.
Now here I was plunging into his bottom.

I quickly released his balls from my mouth, and lifted up.  "It's alright,
sweetie!   You won't have an accident.   We took care of that,
remember?    This morning?  You're the one who demanded we shovel
a way to the outhouse first!"

"Yeah," he acquiesced.

"This is totally different, Wishus.  Doesn't it feel good?   Just let
yourself relax.   Let me in, sweetie."

He was gripping the blanket again, with both hands, and clenching his
teeth.  I saw his breath shudder from his lungs, as he consciously tried to
follow my directions.  He released his fists, and spread his palms upon
the blankets.  "O ... ok, Teg, I'll ... try."

"Great.  That's it.  I'll just hold my fingers inside of you now.  You tell
me when I can start in again."

"Ok, but ... remember, I warned you!" he gave me a half-hearted smile.

"I'll remember."

"Don't get mad if ... I can't control it."

"I would never get angry with you like that, Wishus.  Remember, this is
what men and boys have done for all time.  This is the way we make
love, honey.   I love you with all my heart.  I want this more than
anything.  I want to be in you, Wishus.  I want us to have what a man
and boy should have together."

"Yes.  I want it too, Teg.  Go ahead now."  He laid his head back again,
and closed his eyes, awaiting me.

"I do love you so much, Wishus," I said, feeling overwhelmed by love
for him suddenly.  He was so good and brave.  And he wanted me so
much!

As I said it, I pushed in again with all three bunched fingers.  The little
triangle of hardened flesh widened quickly, from the tips up to their
base, and his anus stretched and stretched, inexorably.

I pushed in a half inch, and held there, listening as he drew in a quick,
startled breath.  Then he relaxed again.

I withdrew just slightly, and then pushed in again.  The mucous from
within him made it slick.  It gurgled now, plopping and swishing with
each movement of my fingers.

"Uhhhhnnnn." He groaned, with the next half inch, but he met my
thrust with a push of his own now.  I rotated my fingers with him, so
that the pads might touch his prostate, and started again into a rhythm.
In a little more each time.  In, out, in, out.

With each stroke he mewed.   With each stroke I widened his hole a bit
more.  We both lost ourselves to the rhythm, to the pleasure, to the
moment.  I felt the warmth of the fire envelope us, bathing us both in
it's soft, flickering light.  The soft piling of furs beneath us, the warmth
all around, the angel glow from outside – the very image of what we
were doing – a little boy on his back, his legs pulled up, his anus
stretched to accept his man's fingers – how could this be forbidden?!  It
was so beautiful!  So good!  So right!   This little boy was giving himself
over to his man, letting all his inhibitions flee away, releasing himself
body and soul in this incredibly intimate act!  Was there ever a more
perfect example of giving and trusting?

I felt so uplifted!   I had three fingers inside Wishus' bottom!   I was
bringing excruciating pleasure and joy to him, because he trusted me.
He loved me!  And we were on the verge of joining in an even more
magical and intimate way.

I was exalted beyond measure.  This was what I had lived all my years
for.  To join with the boy I loved.  To make us both whole, by becoming
One!  This was boylove!

"Now, Teg," I heard his voice, so soft, so sweet.

It electrified me!  I felt my manhood surge with power.   It seemed to
grow and grow, to harden beyond the hardest steel.   Wishus, my boy,
wanted me now.   I was indeed born to be with him, to serve him, to
care for him, to love him, to fill him!

"Yes, Wishus.  Now." I said so calmly, answering him as I should.  His
to command.  His to serve.

Suddenly I knew how to do it.  All my years of wondering, reading,
dreaming.  All my varied lessons with Rolando!  They had brought me
to this moment, but now, with my boy spreading his legs for me, calling
me into him, I realized that I had known what to do always.  Some few
of us, in the course of human existence, are blessed with a natural
passion for boys.  We don't procreate with them, but we do something
just as important in our boys' lives.  We give everything we have to
them.  Our very beings.

I would give my being to Wishus.  Now.

I looked into his eyes.  He held them wide open now.  He was in the
throes of the renewed climb towards another orgasm, yet he was as
clearly aware now as ever before.  He looked at me with a mixture of
longing and a kind of beatific blessing, granting my wish, recognizing
my purpose in his life, and acknowledging his own need.

He was lovely beyond compare, even to any vision of himself!  His little
body, his slim little legs, drawn in together beneath my massive form.
His dainty fingers, clutched tightly behind his knees.  His long, slender
arms, so straight and tender and unmuscled, shoulders rounded, his little
collar bones so delicate.  His flawless, pale complexion, lips red and full,
his eyes sparkling green and golden, the spun-gold of his hair splayed
upon the blanket.  His pure white garment, frilly and soft, pulled up to
allow me to take him as mine.  The coral and ivory beaded choker,
proclaiming him mine.

We were ready.

I withdrew my slick fingers from his wide-stretched hole, quickly wiped
their lubricating juices on my dickhead, and spread my own pre-cum all
around it.  I pulled back on my foreskin, completely baring my flaring
reddish glans, and in one motion inched forward between his legs, and
placed my dickhead against his slowly narrowing rectum.

"I love you, Wishus." I said solemnly, as I pushed in and down, using
my fingers from above to leverage my glans into him, while I pushed
forward with my hips.

"I ... LOVE you ... Teg!" he gasped, responding even as my glans
penetrated his ring.  I pushed forcefully, feeling the resistance of his
anus.  It was loosened, relaxed, but naturally constricting again.

"My ... God!" he screamed, at the very instant the ridge of my glans
passed within his rectum, lodging all the way in.  I screamed too,
something animal-like and incoherent.  I had known that if I bared my
glans, the penetration would almost be painful to me.  Almost!  It was
an excruciating overload of sensation, and when his rectal muscle closed
in behind my glans, on my frenum, I couldn't help but cry out.

Wishus involuntarily released his hold on his legs, and dug his fingers
into my arms, gripping me fiercely.  I had leaned into him, with the
penetration.  I propped myself on outstretched arms, resting on either
side of his body.  His legs fell onto my arms, and slid partly down
alongside them.

He gasped for breath, his diaphragm suddenly tightening along with the
rest of his body, responding to the penetration.

I gasped too, with each involuntary squeeze of his muscle so tight
around the shaft of my dick.

Neither of us could move for a moment, or hardly think.  He calmed
himself first.  It took all my will power to keep from withdrawing my
penis.  Each squeeze upon it sent s shock of deliciously agonizing
pleasure through me.

"You're ... in me!" he said.

"Ye ... yes, sweetie ... can you ... try to relax ... a bit," I struggled to
answer.

I almost wanted to laugh, or cry, I didn't know which.  I had impaled
him, invaded him, but his little body was in control of me now.

"I'll ... try, Teg," he whimpered.

And he did.  I felt every bit of his effort, as he consciously tried to relax
his sphincter.  It fought him for control, instinct only reluctantly swaying
to his desire, constricting again and again, but each time a bit less.

I looked down at him. My head hovered over his now, my hair hanging
down all around me.  He looked up into my eyes, his little eyes roving,
seeking to read my thoughts.  Neither of us smiled, yet we both could
sense the love and need in the other.  I could look down between us,
and see the stem of my dick rising from his bottom.  He strained to look
too, following my gaze.

"Are you ok, honey?"

"Yes," he said.  "I'm ... getting used to it.  It feels ... good, Teg.  And
so big!"

He released my arm with his right hand, and lowered it to feel between
us.  Suddenly I felt his fingers on my rock-hard shaft.  Then he slid his
fingers along the flesh of our junction, feeling how his anus was
stretched so tightly around me.

"Oh god, Teg, it feel so ... incredible!:

I lowered my face, pursing my lips.  He had to strain his head up a bit,
since my torso was so much longer than his, but he met my lips with his,
and we kissed lightly.

"Can you take a little more, honey?"

"Yes, Teg.  I want you in me more."

I looked down between us again, and started to push in.   He guided
me!  I felt his fingers wrap around my shaft, and start to pull me into
him.  The swell of my dick, just beneath my glans, would stretch him the
widest.  He took it with eyes wide, staring into mine.  Neither of us
breathed.  Both of us were totally, blindly concentrating on the slide of
my flesh inside his, for all of another inch into him.  Then we both
rested.

Beyond the tightness of his anal ring, I felt a softer wetness and
warmness envelope my glans.

"It feels so good, Wishus!  I never dreamed it could feel so good, and
I've dreamed of this moment all my life!"

"It's like ... nothing I ever dreamt of, Teg!  I played with myself, like
this, but ... your dick is so hot inside me!  I ... I can feel it beating in
there, like your heart!"

I lowered myself to him again, and we kissed again.  This time he
opened his lips, sucking my tongue into his mouth.  We were joined
there too!

"Can you take more?" I asked, as we separated.

He surprised me again, bringing his right hand up to his lips, and licking
the pads of his fingers, then spitting into them.  Then he reached back
down between us and started to lubricate our junction, then all up and
down my shaft.

"I'm ready, Teg.  Can you ... fuck me ... now?"

My heart ached at his words, and I let out a cry of passion and love and
gratitude.  He overwhelmed me in every way!

"Yes, dearest.  I'll ... fuck you ... now," I tried to answer, at one and
the same time straining to push within him some more, and to breath
against the constriction in my throat.

How deep could I go?  I had no idea.  He had no idea.  Deep enough to
make sure I could brush against his prostate, but not so deep as to hurt
him inside.  Rolando had taken six or seven inches of his dildo.  Joey
had taken most of Tonio inside him.  I slowly thrust in another inch, and
felt him tense at the same time that I felt my glans press against some
soft, but resisting part within him.   So I started a slow slide out.  His
inner juices, his spittle, the lubrication of my pre-cum, all combined to
make the glide smooth.  I felt every bit of the slide.  His bottom seemed
reluctant to let me out, pulling and tugging at my shaft, literally grabbing
at my glans, stretching it in the same way that I stretched his anus.   I
continued the glorious slide all the way till the ridge of my glans was
once more the only thing keeping me inside him.

Wishus must have thought I was going to pull out.  "No!" he exclaimed
softly, but firmly, and he quickly raised both his hands, and strained to
grasp my buttocks, to pull me back in.

"Don't worry, dearest," I said.  "I'm not pulling all the way out.  Just feel
my dick inside you, honey.  Feel it as it slides in again."

"I ... ooooooohhhhhh," he had started to answer, but I pushed back in
immediately, and he seemed to both sigh with relief and groan with the
sensation.

"Do you like it, Wishus?"

"You're filling ... me up, Teg!  It feels ... wonderful.  Keep ... going ...."

My dick slipped smoothly into his heat again.  The slick walls of his tube
gave way to me, but slid along my shaft and glans tightly.  I couldn't tell
if I hit his prostate or not, but my penetration was met with another
whimpering moan, a physical reaction, not one of hurt or fear, but an
automatic response to the sensations he felt.

I lifted a bit and looked down between us again, and saw that I was
planting fully 3 inches of my meat inside Wishus.  The root of my tool
stuck out of his bottom just as straight and hard as the dildo that I had
fucked Rolando with.

As I paused like that, poised within him, he started moving his butt in
the slightest of little circular motions, testing the stiffness of me within
him, pressing more firmly against first one side then another of his anal
ring, just slightly pushing up and then down.  He moaned softly,
continuously, a vibrant, deep-throated hum almost.  I looked down at
his face, and saw that he still lay with his head back, his eyes closed.  He
was in total concentration on the feelings with him.

It suddenly swept over me.  Just the most extraordinary and uplifting
feeling of joy, that Wishus and I were joined so tightly.  I was embedded
within him.  He was impaled by me.  He could have rudely pushed me
out.  I could have grown limp and weak, as I had done with Rolando.
Yet both of us wanted this moment.

"Look Wishus," I uttered softly, arching my back a bit more.  I smiled,
as he opened his eyes again looking almost dazed, as if coming out of a
trance induced by the sensations he was feeling.  "Look, honey, we're
joined, like one body!"

I motioned with my head for him to look down our bodies.  "Look at
my penis, Wishus, sticking out from your bottom."

"We're ... One, Teg," he answered dreamily.  "

"Yes, we are, honey."

Wishus sighed softly, and closed his eyes as he laid his head back down
on the blanket.  He seemed to relax, then.  All over.  He seemed to all of
a sudden simply give in to the new and wondrous sensations he was
feeling.  His hands flopped down onto the blanket, by his sides again.   I
felt his legs rest with their full weight against my arms.   Only around
my deep-thrust pole, did I feel his conscious effort, as he continued to
shift his pelvis, testing the physical link between our two bodies.

Suddenly he discovered that he could control his anus.  He constricted it
around my shaft. "Aayyyyyeee!" I called out, my whole body stiffening
to the tightness.  He was so powerful down there!  He felt my reaction,
and loosened, then constricted again.  When I reacted again, going rigid
and taut again, I heard him laugh so softly.  He had the sweetest, most
self-satisfied little smile on his lips, but he didn't even open his eyes.

"I just can't tell you, Teg ... how good it feels ..." his voice almost
drifted out from his lips, a soft echo of the trance-like state he was in.

"It feels like heaven to me too, Wishus.  When you squeeze me like that,
it's like you had your hand around me, but a hundred times better."

"Fuck me, Teg," he pleaded again, softly.   "Just ... fuck me."

"Yes, Wishus."

To answer his command, I pulled out again. That delicious slide, the
continuous, slick yet tight friction on my glans – I knew that I could not
last long like this.  I would soon cum inside my boy.

Out to the ridge of my glans, hearing his whimper, feeling his whimper.
Then back in again, to the accompaniment of his sweet moan.

We started our rhythm.  He met each thrust with a slight upward heave
of his pelvis.  He began to jerk, involuntarily, at the end of each thrust.
Perhaps the moment when my dick hit his prostate most firmly?
Perhaps the moment when he felt himself impaled, just to the point of
pain.  But never sensing that pain.  Oh, there was no pain in my Wishus!

Each outward movement ended with him breathing an almost panicked,
jerky sigh.  I tensed at that point too, feeling the tightness of his anal
ring on my frenum.  Perhaps we both feared that my penis would
suddenly plop out of his bottom.   It was like repeated steps to the edge
of a precipice.   To step over the line would end this moment of
incredible joy.  We tested the limits with each motion of our fuck.

In to the deepest depth he could allow me.  Out to the threat of
separation.   In to his moans of most intense delight, out to his
whimpering plea for me to stay within him.

I thrust in, feeling so powerful.  Taking my boy.  Making him mine.  I
pulled out, then poised for a fraction of a second, before pushing back
in, to reclaim him again!  My balls slapped down, just grazing his
bottom, heavy with the semen that I would soon pump deep into him.

As we gained a rhythm, a sync with each other, our private little world,
within these four walls, within our lonely meadow, within our protecting
forest, was filled with the sounds of our melding.  We gave ourselves to
it, with complete abandon.  Wishus answered each thrust more loudly.  I
pushed in a little deeper, inexorably plunging more and more of my
manhood into his body.  I began to almost grunt with each stroke in.
Not a moan.  More like a brute announcement of my possession of my
boy.  He answered in his sweet, boyish tones, giving himself.  Letting
me take him.  All to the rhythm of the squishing sound of my dick
sliding in and out of him.

His little body shook with each thrust.  My dick was like a piston,
pushing his whole body down into the furs, and lifting him up with each
outstroke.

Oh god, I felt myself tensing to cum.   I knew I couldn't last much
longer, yet I didn't want this to ever end.  I wanted Wishus to continue
to feel these new pleasures, these new sensations.  I wanted him to cum
with me!  Could he?

I looked down again between our bodies, thinking I should start jacking
him, but not sure I could manage it.  His little penis was limp!   It
flopped wildly across his tummy with each of our strokes.  Yet he was
obviously in the deepest throes of sexual passion!  My constant abrasion
of his prostate, the never-ending jolt from the nerve-endings in his
rectum, my tool expanding and filling him - those seemed to be his focus
now.

I couldn't hold out any longer.  That was the instant I felt my dick
suddenly swell, and my balls constrict.   I shot into him, and plunged the
deepest, all at the same time.  I felt the first spurt of  my semen bursting
out along my urethra, and flooding into him. I yelled out, triumphant,
proclaiming the consummation of our Union!

He tensed to it, and screamed out incoherently.  His arms shot up like
bolts to grasp me round my back.  His legs stiffened and tightened in
against my arms.  He shrieked , and literally lifted himself off the bed,
his whole body pulled up to mine.  In the blind, animal-like moment of
orgasm, I thrust hard, uncontrollably.  He swayed beneath me, in the air,
swinging like  a pendulum under my body.

"Ohhhhh Teg!" he screamed, his voice shrill, penetrating the night air.  I
felt his anus clamp down upon me, even as his body started to go into
convulsions.  It seemed like he was holding onto my penis and my back,
as his only remaining links to the physical world.

I fucked and fucked into him, my penis pumping my seed deep into his
little bottom.

"It's so ... hot ... Teg!" he yelled in amazement.  "I can ... feel your
cum!  Inside me!  You fucked me, Teg!  You fucked me!"

He continued to hold himself up off the bed, against me, swaying with
my body.  Finally I quit thrusting, feeling that incredible, almost painful
sensation from my glans – like if I moved one more fraction of an inch,
it would explode.  I wanted to hold him so tight.  I tried propping
myself up with one hand, and raising the other to hold him around his
back, but succeeded only in flopping over on my side onto the furs,
bringing him with me.

I rolled over onto my back, reversing our positions, and wrapped my
arms around him, hugging him so  tight.  My dick slipped out a bit from
his behind, and I felt the relative cold of the air along my wet shaft,
below where we were still joined.

Wishus nuzzled into my chest hairs, kissing me there over and over.  "It
was ... so wonderful ... Teg."

"It was ... beyond words ... sweetheart," I panted.  Our bodies were so
hot against each other.  I felt a sheen of sweat between us.

"You fucked me ... just like husband would fuck his wife."

"Like a man would ... fuck his boy," I answered, and kissed the top of
his head.  I held him still, not wanting to ever let my dick slip out of his
body.  Amazingly, I was still hard.  Normally, I could easily get hard
again after a few minutes, but to stay hard after cumming was just not
normal for me.

"Yeah, Teg.  Like a man would fuck his boy," Wishus raised his head,
and looked up at me, and smiled so sweetly.  "I want to kiss you, Teg."

"I want to kiss you too, sweetie.  But then you would have to get off
my dick," I feigned a pout.

"Ohhhh ... " he sighed, letting it out with such a show of satisfaction,
"that's ok, because we're going to do it again."

"Oh!  We are?"  I asked, as he pulled himself up along my body.  He
wiggled his butt as his rectum protested, not wanting to flare out around
the ridge of my glans, to let me out of his body.  "Oh! There it is," he
laughed, as my dick plopped out.  We both heard a little plop of gas
too!

"What was that!" I laughed.

"Well, hmmh, you were up inside my butt, Teg!" he proclaimed
impishly, then compressed his lips tightly and pushed them out
tauntingly, and tilted his head indignantly.

"Yeah.   I was!"  I laughed, raising my eyebrows in a knowing way.
"Now what's this about me fucking you aga ... ummmmmmh ...."

He didn't let me finish, just planted his lips on mine, and opened his
mouth.   We let our tongues explore softly, lovingly.   He cupped my
head in his hands.  I just held him around his back, locking him to me
again.

Finally he lifted his head, and said, "Yeah, I want it again, Teg.  But this
time, can I ... uh, can we try it with me on top?"

"Well ... of course we can." I was surprised that he thought of it.

"Like this, Teg," he  said, rising up and scooting back down my body
again, over my dick, lying hard against my belly.

He positioned himself so naturally, as if we had been fucking for
months.    I suddenly realized that indeed this was so natural.  Almost
instinctual.  A man and his boy, loving each other this way.  Giving each
other pleasure.  I knew what to do.  He knew what to do.  We were
made this way, to love each other.

He straddled me, right over my balls, and grasped my dick, lifting it up
like a pole.   "It's so slick and gooey, Teg!" he exclaimed.

"Our juices, Wishus.  From inside your body, and from my cum."

"Yeah, and I can fell it wet around my hole too," he said, his eyes round
with wonder as he reached back with one hand, lifted himself off my
thighs, and probed back there.

Without further exploration, he got on his feet and straddled me higher,
positioning my dick right up against his anus.   He pushed down, letting
himself literally sit on me.   My dickhead slipped into him again, this
time with very little resistance.  Slowly, slowly, he impaled himself this
time.  Taking it at his own pace.  He held my dick in one hand, and
propped himself over me with the other, leaning a bit.  He chewed on
his lower lip,  and looked off into space, concentrating blindly on the
penetration of his bottom.

I remembered doing this with Rolando.  Wishus wanted it as much or
more than Rolando had!  This time I remained stiff, knowing I was
sharing my manhood with my intended.

Wishus looked so sexy.  His sheer white garment was draped in lewd
disarray down past his shoulder, lowering across his chest to reveal his
bare nipples.  I reached up and lightly caressed them with my thumbs,
then traced my fingers along his sides.

His dick dangled out half-hard, his balls hung loose.  I lowered one hand
to cup them, and lightly pluck at his scrotum, then up to fondle his tool.
He moaned again.

"Oh God, it feels so good, Teg," he said softly, his eyes closed.
Sounding dreamy again.

I fingered his balls again, tugging them outward gently.  He moaned
loudly, and squirmed on my dick.  Then I let my fingertips trace the line
of his perineum, all the way to his dick-plugged anus.

I felt all around, amazed at the sight of his little form impaled on me.
Leaning forward, I reached behind him.  He was so small and slim, that I
could cup his buttocks in one hand, squeezing them, feeling the pressure
on the head of my dick inside him!  My cock looked so huge sticking up
inside him, like it should split him wide apart.

He was almost in a delirium.  His head lolled from side to side as I
squeezed his bottom against my shaft, and that unconscious, continuous
groan of his started to build again within his throat.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm," he intoned, his mouth closed,
his voice somehow gravelly, yet still so high and soft.

"Wishus," I whispered.  He continued to just sit there on my prick,
swaying, moaning, lost in some enchanted world of sensations that I
could only imagine.

"Wishus..." I said a bit louder.

"Yessss ... Teg," he answered from out of his trance, not even opening
his eyes. "Uuuuuuhhhhhhnnnnnnnn."

"Wishus, what are you feeling, honey?  What does it feel like to have my
penis up inside you?"

"It's like ... oh God, Teg!  I can feel you in there, just filling me up ...
and it's like ... around my bottom," he said in a dreamy monotone.  "...
my hole there, is trying to squeeze ... all the time ... but I can't ... control
it anymore ... you're peepee is so big, and ... and it's ... holding me
open."

"Does it feel good?"

"Teg! It's ... it's ...." His head suddenly fell forward, his hair falling all
around it, then he arched his back and pulled his head back up, breathing
in deeply.  He sounded like he was going to cry.  Each word came out
by force of will, as he tried to explain what he was feeling.

"I ... feel ... how hard ... you are, in there ... Teg!  It's like ... I'm helpless
... but I know I ... could get off now ... if I wanted to.  But I don't want
to!  It's like I ... want you to just go in deeper and deeper, and fill me
up."

"It doesn't hurt?"

"No!  It's ... killing me ... but I've never felt ... anything so wonderful ...
oh God, fuck me, Teg!" he called out, letting his head fly back again.
His whole frame was ramrod stiff upon me, his arms propped on mine.

"You can do it, sweetie.  Just move up and down on me.  You can fuck
me, Wishus."

He took my cue immediately, and started to tense his thighs, raising his
bottom up along my shaft, letting me slide an inch, then two inches out
of him.  Then he started down again, sitting on my tool, forcing it back
up into his cavity.

"How does it feel ... for you, Teg?" he asked suddenly, his eyes still
closed.  He kept up the rhythm, slowly lifting himself off me, then back
down, each time letting me about 3 inches up into his bottom.  Each
stroke he let out a low, almost whispered moan, that I don't even think
he was aware of.  His arms seemed to wobble a bit, threatening to
buckle under the effort of holding his body poised over me.

"Feels like ... home, Wishus.  Where I belong.  My dick buried in your
body.  Feels like when you suck me.  Hot, wet, and a hundred times
tighter.   Feels like ... I'm making you happy ... like you want me in you
...."

"I do, Teg!  I wish we could fuck like this forever!  But ...."

"But what, Wishus?"

"Teg, I don't know if I have enough strength to do it this way.  Just
...."

He paused, bouncing ever so slightly on my dick, letting it slip inside
him a little bit more, as if he were losing the strength to hold himself up.

"Just what, honey?"

"Can you ... just ... fuck me like before?   Could you do it to me?"

"Of course, dearest.  I'll fuck you any time you want it."

Why I did it I don't know.   It wasn't a conscious act.  This was our
bridal consummation room, where we had finally joined our bodies.  But
for some reason, I felt like taking him to our bed.

In one sweeping motion, I raised up at the waist, putting my arms
around his back as I arose, letting him fall back into them, still impaled
on my outthrust dick.   I just lunged up, cupping one hand beneath his
buttocks, letting my lower two fingers feel around our junction.  His
little anus gripped my shaft tightly.

"Let's fuck in our bed, honey," I said, as I carried him like that through
the hall to our room.

"Ok, Teg, let's fuck ... in our bed," he leaned into me wearily, dreamily,
just a little boy letting his man take control.  A little boy, impaled on his
man's dick, ready to make love again.


----------------------------------


"Teg," Wishus whispered, waking me.  I immediately felt his hand
hefting the flaccid shaft of my dick.  He stroked it, in the familiar way he
always did to get me hard.

"Yeah honey,"  I said, opening my eyes to the darkness of a pre-dawn
morning.  We were cuddled together deep under our covers, warm and
secure.  I smelt the stains on our bedclothes of our love-making last
night.  We had fucked in our bed, the second time, then fallen asleep like
this after I withdrew.  He had spooned his body against mine, and fallen
asleep almost immediately.  My semen and his rectal juices leaked from
his bottom onto the sheets during the night.

He pushed his bottom back against my lower tummy.

"It was so wonderful last night," he uttered so softly and simply.

"Yes it was, dearest."

"My bottom feels ... kind of funny," he said.

"Does it hurt?"

"No ... well, just a little bit, but ...."

He hesitated.  I waited a minute for him to continue, just luxuriating in
our warmth.

"But?" I finally asked.

"Well, it feels ... kind of ... loose."

I chuckled.  "Yeah, I expect so.  I rode you pretty good last night.  I'm
sorry it hurts, even a little."

"It doesn't really.  In fact, I ...."

He paused again, but still fondled my dick.  It was now answering to his
touch, and rising stiff and hard.  He patted the slit at the tip with one
finger.

"You what?" I asked, this time a little more quickly, wondering if he
meant what I thought he meant!

He pushed his bottom back and slid down a bit, pressing his crack
against my dick head.

"I'd love to, Wishus," I whispered.  I reached down and gently caressed
his upthrust hip, beneath the covers, then let my hand slide down
between his crack.   Tentatively, lightly, I let my middle finger touch his
hole.   It was soft and wet, feeling a bit more puffed and swollen than it
had the day before, when it was still virgin.

He didn't cringe or show any sign of pain, so I leveraged the head of my
dick up to his anus and used his juices to slick my bared glans.

He pushed back again, signaling very clearly just how much he wanted
me inside him.  I suddenly felt a million little itching pinpricks in the
head of my dick.  I drew in a deep breath, letting the urge build up in
me.  I just had to be inside him!

With my cock lodged up against his hole, I reached around to grasp him
and pull him onto me.  His little dick was hard!  I held it firmly between
my thumb and index finger, and used the rest of my hand to pull him
onto me.

He was sloppily wet back there, after two fuckings within the last 8 or
ten hours.  I had pumped two loads of semen up into him.  My glans
slipped in past his loosened ring fairly easily.

He gasped and tensed, so I stopped and just held him there, kissing his
hair from above, tenderly jacking his little dick.

In a moment he relaxed a bit, and pushed back again.

"Fuck me, Teg." He whispered those magical words again!

I pushed in, deeper and deeper, sliding easily into his slickened canal,
glorying again when I felt his body jolt ever so slightly as I brushed his
prostate.

I slipped my left arm underneath his side, and grasped his little peepee
with it, freeing my right to caress up and over his thin chest.  His flesh
was so warm underneath our blankets, so soft.  Lightly I touched first
one nipple then the next, exerting the slightest pressure, kneading,
tweaking, till both were hard little nubbins.

Then I started fucking him.   Slowly, gently.  In and out in a continuous
motion, never pausing or thrusting hard, matching this fuck to this
moment of early morning tenderness.  He began to whimper very lightly
this time, with the same unconscious, automatic response to the
sensations with him, but this time more quietly.

"I ... love having ... you in me ... Teg," he uttered.

"I love being a part of you, sweetheart."

"Do you ... want to ... go deeper?" he asked querulously, as if unsure
of himself, unsure if he himself wanted to test the limits.

"Is that what you want, Wishus?!" I answered, feeling a surge of
emotion and wonder.  "To feel me as deep as possible within you?"

"Yes! I want that.  I want you in me always, Teg.  I need you in me."

I stopped thrusting, thrilling to his words, and feeling so complete inside
my boy.  We were truly joined.
My dick was embedded 4 inches within him, and he wanted me deeper!
I placed my arm across his lower tummy, and held him firmly, as I
started pushing in once more, slowly, patiently.  Another half inch.  An
inch.

Wishus moaned lowly, feeling my invading member deeper than ever
before.  I paused momentarily, then again began to push.  His bowels
took me in deeper, deeper.  Another half inch again.

I heard his breath catch in his throat and he tensed.  He clutched his
pillow to his face, and bit into it, his little fingers twisting and turning.  I
was fully 5 and a half, almost 6 inches inside him, my dick stretching
him wide, my glans touching some firm, yet soft spot within him.  He
trembled, down the length of his whole body, the tremors continuing,
like I had directly touched a nerve deep inside him, and his brain could
not figure out how to deal with this new and strange stimulus.  The
moan started again.  Low and soft, a subconscious tribute to my
penetration.

I just held him there like that, firmly.  Impaling him, feeling his inner
heat, feeling like my cock had somehow become a part of him.  That to
withdraw it even a fraction of an inch would be sacrilege.

He made no effort at all to pull forward, to make me withdraw.  His
body continued to convulse. I felt it all around my dick.  I felt his legs
thrash in small, uncontrolled motions against my own.  His upper body
shivered, even deep down inside our warm blankets.  His arms and
shoulders shuddered against me. Gradually, after long moments in which
both our hearts raced, the trembling ceased and he relaxed his grip on
the pillow.

He reached back finally, and placed his hand possessively on my hip,
pulling me forward firmly.  Keeping all six inches embedded within him.

"Remember, Teg, you said ... you'd never leave me." he muttered, his
voice muffled by the pillow that he still held to his lips.

"I remember.  I'll always remember, sweet."

Neither of us moved after that, for the longest time.  The sun began to
rise.   Our blankets were dappled in the sunlight through the lace
curtains.  It was magical.  I felt it.  I know he felt it.  We were like one
being laying there, our bodies touching from his head against my chest,
to his heels against my feet, my hard penis lodged unmoving inside him,
filling him.  His body stretched to take me inside him.

"Teg?" he finally called to me, so softly.

"Yes, honey."

He lifted his head off the sheet just a bit, as if trying to look back at me.
A lazy, relaxed effort, knowing I was there for him.  Knowing I lived to
hear his words.

"Can we ... can we be One like this, forever?"

"Yes, Wishus. I will always be your man.  You will always be my boy.
We will be One. Forever."

The End