Date: Tue, 27 Oct 2009 01:51:38 +0100
From: auroratopper@gmx.us
Subject: Juan and Matt pt 2

	I yawned and stretched. It was already noon on Sunday. Yet another
day half-wasted. The blanket tented between my legs.

	Morning wood is such a beautiful sight. I throbbed in double time
to the image of Juanito's peepshow dance from the other day. Just a single
bead of glistening boy sweat lubricated that pathway I so wanted to
explore.

	This alone was reason to get my ass out of bed and into the
shower. If I wanted to catch the Mass he usually attends, I'd have to
hurry. No one wants to be too late and face the scorning assembled group of
devout Catholics and their often beautiful children.

	The cold shower softened my seven by five inch prick. I dried my
hair, splashed some cologne on my neck and grabbed a pair of jeans from the
bedroom closet.

	The Central bus was on time for once and I made my genuflect at the
only open pew in the room. This Mass was really full today due to the Feast
of a patron saint of Caucasia. There was one for each ethnic group that
attended services.

	And like most Sundays, today there was an occasional buzzing of
whispers and protests followed by babies screaming followed by a doting
mother exiting the Church with the noisemakers.

	And there he was! Unfortunately Juan was seated next to his mother
on the other aisle. The organ grinder hit his mark and we were off. I
picked up a booklet to blend in and stood up as Father Gomez made his way
around the room flanked by his handsome group of pre-teen boys. His harem,
I mean, altar boys are always first rate and it's a very prestigious group
of families fighting for the chance to offer their youngest blossoming boys
into the arms of the Father.

	I thanked God for all the boywatching He could grant me this
afternoon. He had blessed me not only with Juan's smiling face but also
several other boys I'd seen a few times around the church before. I really
wanted to speak to Father Gomez about teaching Sunday School classes. Great
idea, right?

	We all settled in for the long haul and I stared and daydreamed. In
the distance, Juan was tugging on his mother's sleeve. She was distracted,
listening dutifully to the Word of God spoken so gently by the priest. Juan
started to get antsy. He had to go the bathroom. Sweet Jesus, a miracle!

	As one of the early songs ended, I took that as a chance to beat
him in a race to the bathroom. He watched me head downstairs and since no
one but him was paying attention, I made a motion for him to follow me and
smiled big.

	I flipped the light on at the top of the stairs so he could see
where he was going (the light was definitely out of his reach). As I
descended, I heard the door creak open at the top and saw his little Pumas,
unsure of what to do next.

	"Juan!! Come on down buddy, I left the light on for you!"

	The church basement was definitely something any kid would do a
double take before entering. Musty and cold, glass brick windows the only
source of light and hundreds of candles in varying states of burn.

	Twenty seconds pass and I yell again.

	"Juan!!"

	"Matt, I'm-a-scared of monsters down dere!"

	I smiled and walked slowly up the stairs to him. As I neared he
smiled and held hid crotch tightly. "Matt! I haveta pee real bad but don't
wanna go by myself. Mami says I have to be a big boy and learn how to go
alone."

	"Will you pleease take me, papi?"

	And I was erect. Why did hearing that word drip out of Juan's mouth
stimulate me?

	"C'mon babe." I reached out my arms to him. He hopped on and we
turned around and headed to the bathrooms. He giggled very seductively in
my ear as he got comfortable riding in my arms. His little gasps warmed my
ears.

	The mens room was our first stop. It was a dank spot; and there was
no top light. It had been mysteriously or conveniently never replaced due
to faulty wiring the church couldn't afford to have repaired. Or Father
Gomez and I might not have a quiet place for boyloving. Wiring be damned!

	Juan walked over to the open toilet and I neared the wall
urinal. He dropped his pants to his ankles and his overlywashed and
extremely tight white underwear tented in the front. A very big wet spot
was present and you could see dried spots from what had clearly happened
many times in these thin boys' briefs.

	He was waiting for me to start pissing, I think. Semi-soft, I
unzipped my jeans and parted the crack in the front of my boxers.

	I took my pale white cock with a pink tip out of my dark denim. A
quick pull and my recently shaved nutsac bounced in the open air.

	His mouth dropped open.

	"Matt! I can't get my undies off!"

	Oh.

	I hadn't started to piss yet, so I walked slowly toward him. He
obviously couldn't really walk with his pants around his ankles, so I went
around behind him and slowly slipped my large hands into his tiny cotton
briefs so the elastic would expand wide enough to allow his savory boyhood
to expand fully toward the toilet.

	It surely lasted no more than two seconds but the scene was freeze
framed in my mind. And there they were. The cutest pair of butt
cheeks. Pert and medium brown. Just more than a palmful each. I stepped
back just to stare at these beautiful hills of boyass when I was startled
by a pair of voices getting louder.

	Dammit. Not now!

	"Matt. You can't look, I'm pee shy. Turn around!"

	I got myself together. Yes. That's OK. I kinda am, too I
thought. "OK buddy, I'm turning around. You finish up in here and I'll wait
for you outside.

	A pair of Polish grandmothers were gossiping and oblivious to the
whispers in our Men's room.

	They disappeared around the corner to the Women's Room. I returned
to find Juan shaking the last drips of urine from his proud uncut
boyhood. He bent completely over to pull up his pants and I got an quick
flash of that little rosebud. Wow.

	Again, good thing the bus was on time.

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