Date: Sun, 15 Feb 1998 22:29:02 -0000
From: Ken Claybourne <kencly@globalnet.co.uk>
Subject: A Shocking Little Boy

	Usual stuff. You shouldn't be reading this if you are under
age. And please, Please, PLEASE don't do this at home.

		A Shocking Little Boy
	   A fiction by Casey, for Norman

	Derek and I had been friends since childhood, and we remained close
friends after he married. I stayed single. I had friends, some intimate
friends, of both sexes, but had not met anyone with whom I felt able to
form a lasting relationship. In a sense, none of them were
Derek. Fortunately I got on very well with Margaret, Derek's wife. She
never seemed to resent the times he and I would go off for the day, just as
we had done when we were schoolboys together.

	When their first child Robert came along, I was an obvious choice
as babysitter, a job I was happy to do for them. I watched Bobby's growing
up with as much pleasure as if he had been my own child; and he took me
totally for granted, as young children will. By the time he was two, and
toddling happily, he would come and climb into my bed on those mornings
when I had stayed overnight; a common enough occurrence, as Derek and
Margaret did enjoy a good night out, and were deep in post-party slumber
when he woke up. I would give him a cuddle, and entertain him until his
parents got up. A favourite game of his was to burrow down under the
blankets and make a little `den` formed by my raised knees. He was always
naked, having disposed of his wet nightclothes on the way to see me. As I
had decided, having got wet pyjamas a couple of times, to sleep in the same
state, the not unpleasant odour of child urine was easily showered off.

	Then along came number two - Victoria. Derek and Margaret went out
less often now, and only rarely stayed very late. I stayed the night now
and then, at weekends; but as they were usually up early, the visits from
damp Bobby stopped. And in any case, his bladder control was now fairly
reliable. He still liked to run about the house in the `altogether`, a
thing that his parents approved, thinking it the easiest way to let their
children become aware of the essential differences between boy and girl.
	The children grew, as children will. Bobby started the long crawl
of education, and three years later; Vicky joined him at the little village
school. Now friends started to enter his world, and we heard what Jimmy had
said, what Charlie had done, where Don and his sister had been for the
weekend. Another name came into his chatter, and soon began to dominate.
`Ahmed this`. `Ahmed that`. `Ahmed three bags full`. Ahmed was the
eleven-year-old son of the new proprietor of the village Newsagent and
Tobacconist's shop. Also the sweet shop! A cynic might say that Bobby's
friendship with Ahmed was not uninfluenced by the sweets that Ahmed's kind
father always gave Bobby when he went there to play. Shame on them! The two
did seem to be really close friends. Though Ahmed was the older by a couple
of years, they were similar in build and height - and a total contrast in
colour. Black hair and fair, Brown skin and pink, Brown eyes and blue.

	One evening, while I was at home, I got a call from Derek.
	"David, could you manage next Saturday?"
	"Of course, Derek."
	"We'll be very late, so stay the night, and then have Sunday lunch
with us. Oh, and can we book you again for a fortnight later? Same thing."
	"What's this then, old friend. Twice in a month!"
	"Coincidence. This week it's a works do. The later one is for our
anniversary."
	"I suppose that means a present, you scrounging sod. Yes, of course
I'll do both for you."
	"Thanks, as always, David."

	So the following Saturday I went across in the afternoon, and
played with Vicky for a while. Bobby was out somewhere with Ahmed. At
teatime they both came rushing in.
	"Mum, can I go to Ahmed's for tea?"
	"No, Bobby. You know we're going out soon, and I want you in. Uncle
David hasn't time to go searching the village for you."
	"OK, mum. Then can Ahmed have tea with us?"
	"You never give up, do you?" she laughed. "Oh, OK. Ahmed, you'd
better ring your mum and tell her. We must be off by six, Derek, so we'll
leave David to cope with this lot while we get ready."
	So Ahmed stayed for tea, with firm instructions to be home by
seven. A little charmer, he was, and he was almost as friendly with Vicky
and me as he so obviously was with Bobby. The evening was a pleasure. At
ten to seven I told him he must leave. The night was dark, so I walked with
him the fifty yards or so to the street corner, and watched as he ran
home. He turned and gave me a wave as he went in.
	I went back in, and organised the kids' night routine, a thing I
had done so often. The bath (still both together, splashing happily); the
towelling and obligatory tickles; the story. Then the goodnight hug from
nine year old Bobby, the sloppy kiss from five year old Vicky. The usual
stuff. By nine all was quiet. I got out a couple of beers, and watched a
film on the video. By eleven I was in bed. I knew that Derek and Margaret
would not be in before two in the morning.

	I was woken up at seven the next morning. A naked Bobby climbing
into my bed.
	Now Bobby had not wet his bed for many years. And I had put him to
bed in his pyjamas.
	"Where are your pyjamas, Bobby?"
	"Where are yours, Uncle David?"
	"You know I never wear them, Bobby. You started it!"
	He was cuddled up against me now, as he used to be when he was
tiny.
	"What do you mean, Uncle?"
	"You used to come in to see me all damp, so I started to sleep
naked to avoid getting wet. Then I found I liked it, and I've slept like
that ever since. What's your excuse?"
	"I like it as well. I took my pyjamas off as soon as you went
downstairs last night. I always sleep like that now. Like you. Can I play
tents?"
	So he remembered the old game! I wondered what had brought the idea
back into his mind after all this time.
	"OK, Bobby. Down you go!"
	He wriggled down the bed, and I put my knees up in the old way. He
went down to the bottom of the bed, and turned and looked up at me. I had
my usual morning half-erection. I didn't worry: Bobby must have seen me
naked dozens of times, and his parents had told me of their policy of
allowing the children to see them in their natural condition. Then I felt
his hand on my cock.
	"Uncle David, your Willy is just like Ahmed's: all shiny at the
end. Why?"
	My `Willy` was also growing up quickly! `Play it cool, David`, I
thought. `Just childish curiosity`.
	"The skin at the end was too tight when I was little, and the
doctor cut it off."
	"Did it hurt?"
	"I don't remember."
	"No. Ahmed says he doesn't remember either. It looks nice,
though. It's very big, isn't it?"
	"Yes, Bobby. That happens to men and boys sometimes. Mine usually
gets like that in the mornings."
	"Mine does as well, Uncle David. Look!"  I looked. His little cock
was sticking out straight from his hairless body - all two inches of it!
	I couldn't decide whether he was doing what he was doing to me
deliberately or not. But he was certainly doing it! His little hands were
wandering up and down my erection. Then he moved up, and lay on top of it.
	"I'm just giving your big Willy a hug. Is that nice?"
	Then the little devil started to move his little hips on me, and I
knew that there would be an explosion of cum any moment now.
	"Yes, very nice, Bobby. But I must have a pee."
	I leapt out of bed, and went for my dressing gown. His eyes never
left my jutting erection. I dashed for the toilet, and a long piss
gradually tamed the monster. I wasn't prepared to risk getting back into
bed: I had been far too turned on by his sexy little body. So I went down
to the kitchen and made myself coffee. Bobby joined me, and I made him some
orange, and sat and chatted to him about this and that. Well, not about
that!
	His parents came down stairs, and soon afterwards little Vicky. We
had breakfast, and a lazy morning with the Sunday papers. At twelve, when
the village pub opened its doors, I took Derek across for our pre-lunch
drink. I got the first round, and took them to a quiet corner.
	I told Derek about what had happened. "The trouble is, Derek, he
really turned me on, and I had a job to avoid disgracing myself. You're the
only person in the world I could admit that to."
	Derek was silent for a long minute. Then he spoke, not looking at
me.
	"It started about three months ago, David, one Saturday morning.
Margaret had got up early to go across to see her sister, and she took
Vicky with her. I was treating myself to a lay in, and Bobby came in to see
me, dressed in nothing, as usual. He climbed into bed with me and started
exploring. I was half-asleep, and didn't twig what he was up to until I
found that he was playing with my cock. I'm afraid I didn't have your
control over my feelings. I let him carry on until it was too late, and I
spurted cum all over the place. He seemed to take it for granted, almost as
if that was what he expected."
	"He must have got the idea from somewhere, Derek. But where?"
	"I can only think young Ahmed. But he's only eleven. Surely he
can't produce yet?"
	"Oh, I don't know. It's possible. I've seen Asian kids with
moustaches at twelve. Maybe the boys have been doing some exploring of each
other, and Ahmed has shown Bobby what cocks are really for. After all, you
weren't much older when you started having that sort of fun with me."
	"As I remember it, Derek, it was you who started it first!"
	"Was not!"
	"Was!"
	We burst into laughter. "What did you do about it, Derek?"
	"Nothing. I told him that it mustn't happen again, of course. But
it did. He knows it is `forbidden fruit`, because he's always careful to
choose times when Margaret is out of the way. I found myself wondering if
the same thing happens in other households. Ahmed's, for example. I suppose
Bobby came to you this morning thinking you were worth a try. Ahmed was
here yesterday evening. Did anything happen then?"
	"Nothing I noticed. A bit of whispering and giggling, but kids are
like that. You don't think Ahmed put him up to it?"
	"I don't know what to think."
	"I know what I think, Derek. I think it's your round. Just as
well. I've got a good eight incher trying to get out of my pants!"
	Derek got the drinks, and we sat considering the situation. "What
do I do if it happens again, Derek? I mean, I'm here again in two weeks. I
think you'd better have words with him before then."
	"What exactly do you expect me to say, David? I'm too far in
now. This thing between Bobby and me happened, and will keep happening. He
knows not to talk about it: he'd have said something by now if he were
going to. And I never approach him, he always comes to me."
	"I expect you to say that Uncle David would welcome another morning
visit. Uncle David wouldn't say no to a visit from Ahmed, either. Nor would
you, I suspect."
	Derek grinned. "No, I wouldn't. I was thinking of taking the two of
them for a walk across the fields sometime. I don't suppose you'd care to
join us?"
	We finished our drinks, and went back to the house. Margaret said
that dinner would be a few minutes yet. Derek took me down the garden to
the little shed where he kept the mower and tools. "I've something I'd like
you to see, David."
	We went in, and he knelt down in front of me.
	"I'm sure you won't mind this, for old times' sake." He got my cock
out, and gave me a good sucking. I got there in no time. "And now you, old
friend. You must need relief too!"
	I returned the compliment, and he was as quick to climax as I had
been. Just as well. Bobby came down the garden to tell us that dinner was
ready. We hastily tidied ourselves and walked back up the garden.

	Two weeks later I was at the house again. Things followed their
usual routine. As I tucked the kids up I gave Bobby a big hug, and
whispered "See you in the morning?"
	He nodded happily.
	When he arrived next morning, there were no preliminaries. He dived
down the bed head first, and had my cock in his naughty hands. I played
with his for a moment or two, and then said "Oh look! I've found a little
lollipop!" and took his little stiff cock into my mouth. He fell in with
the game at once.
	"And I've found a BIG one, Uncle David." He took my glistening bulb
into his little mouth, and sucked like an expert. Either Derek or Ahmed had
been giving him lessons! I took his cock and tiny ball bag in my mouth, and
did my best for him. I pressed my finger against his little hole. Not
inside, not yet. I carried on sucking at him, and now let my finger go in
just a little way. He writhed with pleasure, and started to quiver. I was
giving him an orgasm. Non-productive, of course, but none the worse for
that. My culmination was close now, so I told him to take his mouth
away. He was just in time. My spunk shot out onto his chest, and some of it
landed on his lips. He licked it off.
	"Uncle David, that was lovely. You gave me the special feeling. You
had it as well, didn't you? Daddy told me that you get it when the white
stuff comes out. He says it's OK if I taste it. Once he did a bit right in
my mouth, like Ahmed does. It was fun! I liked your finger in my bottom
hole. I'll ask Daddy to do that next time. Daddy says I can do this with
you and him; and Ahmed, of course, but nobody else until I'm bigger, and
it's our big secret. I hope you'll come again soon, Uncle David."
	`With you, Bobby, I could probably `come` again in half an hour` I
thought. He came back up the bed, and gave me a big kiss.
	"Yes, Bobby. Our very special secret: and next time, I'll give you
a bit more finger!"
	And the time after that?