Date: Fri, 11 Apr 2003 15:07:40 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Hamme <lingomark@yahoo.com>
Subject: DIMENSION:BOYLOVE (CHAPTERS 1-11)

DIMENSION: BOY LOVE
or
THE OTHER SIDE OF YESTERDAY:

Time stands still for a mere boy

INTRODUCTION:  This is a long, sweet, hot, loving, emotional sci-fi
fantasy adventure about 2 teenage boys' love relationship, the one boy
16 and the other 12.  Sex is described among minor boys in this story.
If you don't care for such, or it is illegal where you live, you need to
leave.  But, otherwise, you, dear reader, are invited to go on, and
enjoy.  I wholeheartedly welcome your comments, and seek your
correspondence and friendship.

CHAPTER 1: HYPERCUBE OR JUST HYPERACTIVE?

I never have subscribed to sayings or to any other opinion of man.  I did
enjoy dissecting them, though, and coming to conclusions as they fit my
circumstances.  They say that knowledge brings responsibility.  I came to
feel, however, that it is the other way around, in my case.  This being
that responsibility brings knowledge, sometimes of things you would
rather not know.
Being 16 and reflecting back on the responsibility that I was born with,
and that which I accepted, namely, being the oldest child, was sobering.
I had endured all of mother's frequent illness, and our poverty, too,
that being with a resolution that I would make the best of it, and try to
get my sister and brother to do the same.  Perhaps the responsibility
also did not let me forget the knowledge that because of mother's
sickness, and father's being unable to care for us by himself, that we
landed in foster homes for a summer.  Taking the emotional burdens too,
only I remembered this episode.  So the responsibility I kept of
firstborn gave me quick knowledge of the cold hard facts of life.
Did I mention that the knowledge that it forced me to confront was not
always good news?  Undertaking a roll to help keep the house clean, the
yard mowed, the garden tended, and my own room well kept was not met with
the greatest of respect from Christine and Wayne, my younger sister and
brother.  Now, I suppose that what made me do these things in addition to
obligation was an enjoyment of hard work and its rewards.  However, they
seemed to be most indifferent to this.  Their own rooms were pigsties and
they did not care to lift a finger to help around the house, nor in the
garden, or draw water from the spring, or any such thing.
Perhaps, too, what was most troubling for me was the lack of affection
that I could gain from siblings of such attitude.  Sis was okay, but
Wayne, well, despite my devotion to him and our relationship becoming
sexual, as I suppose many brothers do such experimentation, it really was
far from fraternal.
I had porn from an early age and knew that it made me seek any type of
sexual outlet, that is, as soon as I knew what I was seeking.  I never
had masturbated, and therefore knew little more sexual joy then the
boners I got, until I turned 12 and had my first wet dream.  Now, that
got me going, and seeking sexual pleasure, and to pleasure anyone who
wished for me to.
As it was my custom to jerk off in those early days of my adolescence, I
was laying on the bed one day, with my pants down, and my favorite porno
mag in my free hand.  In walked Wayne, and I will credit him with being
intrigued by my hard meat, and the exploration it caused him to do.  He
dropped his pants, and showed me his stiffy.  We soon began exploring and
sucking each other's wieners.  He was a good 69 partner, and he got me
off a lot, but I would withdrawal my hardness from his mouth prior to
coming, so he would not have to taste my cum.  Also, I would cover my
spewing meat with a towel or something so as to keep him from seeing it.
He just would assume I was done, and was drying off.  I suppose seeing me
spurt one day made him fear reciprocating, but I always continued to suck
his stiff 2-inch meat, getting off on pleasing him.  I never had reason
to think he had orgasms, though, and sometimes he would be soft for long
times, and seem sometimes indifferent of my efforts to please him.
Not only was our sexual relationship one sided, but also so was our
emotional one.  I never got hugs or any gratitude expressed for anything
I did for him.  I would expend myself to practice baseball with him, as
he joined the little league, but even when I was not, I could not break
his attention during the day from the glove and mitt, or his constant
catching of a rock in it, or a Frisbee, or whatever came to mind when he
had misplaced or ruined all of his and my balls, bat and mitts.
I think a good outlet from my cares at the house were some intellectual
friends I had made in the seventh grade, a year after I started jerking
off and coming.  Bart was very smart, but Joseph, his younger brother,
was a prodigy in his own right, as all scientific and mathematical
knowledge is what he absorbed.  Plus, he had every iota of computer
knowledge before they could develop into what they are today.  I could
not keep up with their scientific wizardry, but he and Bart and I were
cut from the same fabric, as it were.  I later learned computer science,
and took the academic science and math courses, but linguistic arts and
such were my forte.  I was top German scholar, and speaking better German
than Joseph and Bart was a proof of my genius in something, as Bart and
Joseph's mother was a full-blooded German.
It was painfully obvious that Bart and Joseph were boys, and liked
looking at my porn mags too, just like every other boy in the
neighborhood did.  I just wish I could get more of the boys wanting to
have sex with me, though.  But, I could not, just had Greg my bud to do
this with, and like Wayne, was never much of a reciprocator, nor
emotionally loyal.
Well, Joseph sure was a brain.  He knew every scientific precept.   He
eve spoke of dimensions, and the 4th dimension as being a hypercube, a
cube within a cube, a theory that could scientifically rationalize time
travel.  The closest thing I had to that was my hyperactive brother.  I
don't think I could equate them at all.  And, I must admit, I spoofed
the idea heavily, as I often joked of dimension travel as one of my
fantasy exploits.
Joseph did not know it, but he would be planting seeds in me that would
grow, and allow me later to exploit the potentials of the fourth
dimension, once I stumbled on it, and saw a need to use it.

CHAPTER 2: A BEAUTIFUL DEVELOPMENT AFTER ALL

Well, Greg did share interest in my porn collection, and would often come
down to my house to look at those magazines with he women's legs spread
wide for us to see what they had.  I too was grateful that after 1974,
newsstand mags like what my older brothers bought and passed down to me
were showing such explicit stuff.  We even got to see some nice dicks in
the mags, a few erections, and lots of stories in the forums.  At that
time, you could read underage stories and they were legal.  The whole
thing thrilled me to no end.  But, it was my secret that I loved guys'
dicks and stories of people loving little boys as much as anything.
Greg and I shared the interest in the pussy parts, plus in helping him
get off, once he started cumming when he was 13.
Really, though, this was another case of one-sided enjoyment.  I am not
saying that I did not enjoy getting him off.  I did.  But, he was
amazingly selfish.  Not only did he stop sucking me, but thought that I
was not good enough to come spend the night at his house, or he at mine.
Outright, he was a spoiled brat and snob.  I much rather would have been
sucking off any other of my buds, but I never got a go ahead from them.
I think the sex could have been better with boys that I had more
connection with.
It really was not just Greg's fault.  Another field that was sold out to
a housing development bordered the cornfield that surrounded our house.
Greg's was the first house built there.  They were fine, two storied
houses within an hour of two metropolises, that cost in excess of one
hundred thousand dollars in 1980.  And they came with generous one-half
acre lots.  All though I did not envy them at all, the general consensus
of those living there were to look down on those of us who lived in the
more established homes.
I suppose our home was well established.  It was built about the turn of
the century, and it had cold running water until the pump broke.  The
pump was in the basement, made of dirt.  I spent some time there like I
did in the attic.  Mother kept home canned goods in the cellar, as was
done in older houses by past generations.  There was a trap door in the
floor of my room, one by which one of the huge cabinets was hoisted
upstairs and left by previous tenants.  It and the other old fashioned
cabinets and closets, all large pieces of furniture, intrigued me, as did
the pie safe and ice box in the cellar.
Recurring dreams kept me in a sort of mystic awe of the whole thing.  I
frequently would dream that I found an enchanted rhyme to speak, and walk
into one of the large closets, and emerge the other side in a parallel
dimension.  Time and space were so distorted there that there was no time
passed in our home upon my return.
Portals of other mysterious but real events abounded about that house.
The spring where I drew water for our home and our garden was an
excellent location to grow my own patch of vegetables each year.
Although I helped father with the rest, whatever I undertook: corn,
watermelon, or pumpkins for that matter, proved to be the hardiest and
most beautiful of plants, with unrivaled fruits.
The striped tabby kitten that my brother got grew up, and had her first
litter of kittens in a whole in the wall of the foundation of the chimney
in the cellar.  Upon emerging from it one day, the cat had a fresh
circular wound on it's belly, and was unable to nurse the kittens.
The yard in itself was intriguing.  Color, smell, and taste abounded.
The north was our front porch.  I never wandered too far without finding
the handle of some antique tool, like an early screwdriver, or a sickle,
sticking up out of the ground, like it was planted there.  To the east,
we had an Orange Blossom Bush, then a Purple Lilac Bush, and A White
Lilac Bush.  This alone gave the most magnificent aromas, as if these
natural hedges in front of the garden were planned.  Irises abounded the
East Side as well.  On the south, lay the best climbing trees, and to the
west, were 2 large Red Cherry Trees, plus several small Yellow Cherry
trees as well.
Often I contrasted the good, and the bad, the explained, and the
unexplained goings-on at our house with those in the perfectly fabricated
homes in the housing development behind us, with their spacious half-acre
lots, and the wonderfully mundane and snobbish lives the majority lived.
I felt deprived of little that was offered there, except one desirable
element.

Grateful I am that the rare exception to the snobbish rule did come in
all shapes and sizes, as well as situations and backgrounds.  When Wayne,
my little brother was about 8, not long after we became sexual, he made a
friend from the development named Stevie.  He told us about him, and said
that he wanted him to come down to our house sometime that week.
Stevie was a slender, dark but wide-eyed little boy with short black
hair.  His tan was just perfect, and he often came around with no shirt,
and nice tight shorts that showed his butt to be very developed and
muscular.  He had perfect muscle tone all over, and was as active as a
boy should be, but did not overdo it, either.  I liked the company of
people that could enjoy some quiet times after work or play.
Sometimes, a young man who aches to be of some account to someone younger
gets to be pleasantly surprised by the opportunity that presents itself.
Stevie was not an only child, but had only a younger sister.  His mother
and father were working, and he for sure had no guidance from an older
sibling he did not have.  I don't think there was a sweeter disposition
to be had in a boy, either, for he loved to find me when he first came to
the house, and put his hands on my shoulders and look into my eyes to see
what exiting thing I was going to tell him that we could do.  This was
when he didn't refrain and give me a full hug.
Sure, Stevie was there for my little brother, but anything I could
provide for them to do, he would eat it up.  He especially liked it when
I told him I had pitched the pup tent in the back yard, or in the
cornfield, and would follow me into it, and I would admire his sweet
body.  He loved seeing my hard dick as I pulled it out when we would look
at the magazines.  Wayne's little stiffy was out too, for we usually
would go nude in the cornfield.  Stevie would often stop undressing at
his underwear.
The year was 1984.  My tenth grade literature class had read the book
about this year.  It predicted, among other things, that children being
sexual with each other and adults would be widely practiced, and
accepted.  Well, perhaps widely practiced, just a big secret.  But, it
was not accepted, and I knew that approaching any smaller boy with my
wanting to make love to him was delicate at best.
"Stevie, you can take your underwear off.  We are boys here, and you
know I think you have a very nice body for a boy your age.  There is
nothing to be embarrassed about.  I am sure you have a lovely, nice sized
little dick, " I said, trying like anything to make my little adopted
brother feel comfortable.
"Yes, there is.  And like all the other boys I have seen naked around
here, you would not understand, " he replied, as he fidgeted at the bump
in his underwear.
"You are being silly, buddy.  I have yet to see a boy's dick that could
embarrass me or the boy who had it."
"I-I just can't let you see it, not now, Eddie.  L-listen, I am the
only boy I know who is not circumcised.  I think it looks so weird
compared to boys who don't have this extra skin on their wiener's
heads.  I wouldn't feel good about pulling it out in front of you.  I
hope you don't mind."
If there is anything I wanted more at that time than to see his beautiful
equipment all exposed, and to talk about what he might want to do with
it, it would be to make sure he feels good about himself.  I put my arm
around my little admirer, and said, "I don't want you to feel bad about
anything that you do.  I really think that your little dick would be just
beautiful, like the rest of you, but you don't have to show us if it
makes you feel bad in any way."  He just put my arm around me as we lay
in the tent.
This still did not keep me from wanting to get to where I could make
sweet love to his beautiful body one day, let alone seeing it exposed to
my grateful eyes.  And I felt in one way rejected by this boy, though
feeling his constant want for my fraternal love, but I felt like there
was no hope to ever see it.

As Stevie left the tent and wandered through the cornfield towards his
house that day, I looked up to the houses in the development where he
lived.  I saw the housing development in a brand new light, as I
contemplated what a wonderful little boy came out of one.

CHAPTER 3: MORE AFRAID WHEN I'M INVITED

Perhaps one of the things that makes somebody feel that he is invited to
continue doing something with a boy is his erection.  I always felt that
stiffies do not lie.  Maybe I was not the only one who feels that way.
There is one little boy who loved sucking the little dicks of the other
tykes in the development.  It seems he got addicted to boycock when his
older brother made him suck him off and swallow his cum.  I never had met
this little fellow, but wished I did.  We could have a lot of fun
together.
One particular afternoon, I needed my little bud Stevie.  I rode my
bicycle to his house and asked if he wanted to ride with me.  It seems
noone challenged our need for each other, and Stevie's parents said that
he could go, of course.  I think they sensed my brotherhood with the boy,
one that they could not provide for him.  Big Steve always gave me a
smile of approval, and any instructions as to any thing he could not eat,
or drink, since his little system was intolerant to certain things.  I
just loved being responsible for him, and with him.
We rode toward the intersection of the main road and the housing
development.  Near the stop sign, a pretty little redheaded boy rode in
circles.  His hair was curly, and a cute set of light freckles adorned
his cheeks.
"Stevie, who is that boy?"  I just had to know.
Stevie just gave me a stare, and I realized that he must be the boy who
likes sucking other little fellow's boydicks.  Man, I wished he knew me
and wanted to come with me!  I was quite convinced that I could give the
fellow more than his satisfaction of sucking and being sucked.
Despite my lust, I remembered Stevie was with me.  I was going to get
off, but not by ignoring Stevie, or forcing him to get naked, either.  We
were going to the tent that I still had pitched in the cornfield.  I
beckoned for Stevie to come, as he seemed disinterested in the redheaded
cutie, anyhow.
When we got to the tent, I hastily gave Stevie a girlie mag to look at,
as I lay one in front of me, and pulled out my dick on the towel under my
belly.  Stevie was on my left side, and I wrapped my arm around him as I
jerked with my right.  He really couldn't see what I was doing, and my
touching the hot bare back of my little buddy, plus our conversation, got
me shooting jets of cum into the towel in no time.

"Stevie, you seemed to have no interest in that redheaded boy that sucks
wieners.  Everybody talks about him.  I figured you'd find his company
interesting in some way."
"Eddie, he does interest me, but not as you think.  I have got to watch
him suck on other little boys, too, but I won't pull out my dick, for
even him."
Man, that did it.  I just had to pump it hard and finish the job, and
like I said, it sure got me shooting hard.  Even after the sex glow was
gone, I still liked holding Stevie.  I never liked to see him get on his
bike and go home.
That was the day that Mother said the Aunt Violet was getting too old to
keep up the work on the yard and garden at the farmhouse she rented.  We
would be moving into it, with her reference.  We would finally live in a
house with running water.  But, it was a farmhouse, and I felt especially
comfortable with that.
The moving day finally arrived and we got everything moved in about 6
trips.  Although I was exhausted from helping dad with the loading and
unloading, I just had to do some exploring.  The house was a two family
dwelling now, and we had the full attic and cellar, but only 2 of the 6
bedrooms.  We also had a very sparse living room, and a tiny section of
the porch.  The cellar steps were just off of the kitchen.
This house was 150 years old, and well preserved.  Of course, the
plumbing was put in at a later time.  It was the only farmhouse in city
limits.  What impressed me so much was it's remarkable ability to stay
warm in the winter, and cool in the summer.  That was something that was
true of the other farmhouse we had just moved from.
In the basement, I found some old canned goods.  I opened one jar, and
tasted some sweet cherries.  It was about a quarter into them that I
began to feel dizzy.  I called Aunt Violet, and she said that there was
no way the cherries could be anything but spoiled, as she had neglected
to dispose of them 20 years ago.  I assured her, they were quite sweet.
My only conclusion was that they had fermented, and were causing an
intoxicating effect on me.  A strange feeling of wishing to live the good
old days formed in me.  This was indeed odd, as we were so happy to be in
our house with the modern convenience of plumbing.  Plus, never having
been drunk, I assumed the feelings were just that, and dismissed it for
some time to come.  I had other emotional needs to fill besides living in
the past.
Really, when we moved, my relationship with Stevie did not change.  We
moved to that old house when I was 15, and Stevie and Wayne were both
11.  Stevie came over, just not as often, but he still relied on me for
the entertainment.  His first time to visit us in our new house was an
overnighter. I didn't have the tent ready, for I had an old chicken
house that I fixed up as a recreation room.  I completed this with every
item I could make use of: a daybed nobody wanted, a small table and chair
set, an old tube intercom from the shed to the house, a cheap telephone,
and a $4 refrigerator dad and I bought at an auction.  Since there was 3
of us, I felt it would be selfish if I slept on the daybed.  So, we all
slept in sleeping bags on the floor.
Stevie knew that if he slept next to me that I expected him to be quiet
in the mornings and let me sleep in.  Instead, when he awoke, he started
making snoring noises and giggled, saying, "That's what Eddie sounds
like all night!"
He was testing my limits, and as a sort of reprisal, I was going to test
his.  Perhaps this was not fair, given his feelings on things, but it
seemed right.  I unzipped my sleeping bag and pulled him too me.  He
giggled as I held him to my body and tickled him.  But, I was not done.
I sat him in my lap, facing him, tickling him all the way.  Then, I lay
him down, with his head by my feet.   I stripped his shorts off and
pinned his arms down with my legs.  As I got the shorts down, I held his
feet as I pulled his underwear off, and I put one leg under each arm,
spread them out, and viewed that beautiful body.
Really, Stevie looked just fine to me.  His little dick was flaccid, and
covered with skin, but pretty, like his developing balls.  He objected,
but not strongly, so I flickered his little boymeat in my hands, as my
brother Wayne just laughed.  Of course, having his naked boycrack on my
meat sure made me hard and so amazingly horny that my dick hurt.
Well, I pulled Stevie too me and hugged him. He did not seem to even
whimper in protest for what I had just done.  I held him in my lap with
my cock pointed inside his crack, and it at least had some relief.
Was Stevie really modest about his uncircumcised boycock?  It would seem
not, as he flashed it and his tight buns to Wayne and me, then wrestled
naked with my little brother for what seemed like five minutes.  It was
probably only 10 seconds, for I took advantage of the time to view his
naked ass and stroke myself to a hard cum in my sleeping bag.  Well, at
least I got my fingers around that boyhood, even it being soft.  I got
the natural high of seeing his perfect boy ass in front of me, and the
imagination of what it would look like on top of my face as we would 69.
Such tight, smooth buns that wiggled so during movement were enough to
get me off and shoot hard and fast.
The next sleepover was sort of tantalizing in itself.  Stevie came over
and seemed uneasy, but relying heavily on being near me.  He never seemed
to be over an arm's reach away.  Finally, near bedtime, he sat down with
me on the bed.  He put his arms around me, and said, "Can you get
everything ready for me to take a bath?"
"You know I love you even if you stink, so I don't guess you have to.
You still want a bath?"
He giggled, then as quickly as his laugh came, his look turned serious,
and a bit embarrassed, but he did know he could talk with me.  Did he
have diarrhea again like the second night of the last sleepover, and
needed to get cleaned up?
"W-well, I was having trouble peeing, and Daddy had me get circumcised.
The last of the stitches are supposed to fall out on my next bath.
Really, they dissolve in water.  They are irritating me, and I can get my
wiener wet tonight for the first time."
"No problem, champ.  I'll get things ready for you, and the hook on the
door is over there."
This fellow did it to me again.  Sure, I wanted nothing more to get in
his pants and see his boydick, soft, hard, cut, or uncut.  But, when you
care more about your brother than your own lust, you look at things
differently.  Love that is true will follow it's own course, and sex
will become a part of that when the time is right and special for both.
Wayne and I pushed the beds in our room together that night, and I held
Stevie in my arms as he slept.  He knew I wasn't going to try to touch
his genitals in the condition they were in, sore, sensitive, and prone to
infection.  Sure, I was horny all night, but I was content to hold my
loving little bud.

Stevie was able to come over the following summer quite often.  I still
thought of his little dick, and how I might go about seeing it one day.
Perhaps getting the skin cut off made him more shy about it.  I had no
idea what to think.  Stevie was the first uncut boy I knew, and certainly
the only boy whose uncut dick I had played with, and then get the skin
removed.  He must have felt at least odd to have been hard as a cut and
uncut boy, and who knows what else he had done with it before and after?
One day, we went to the swimming hole and splashed around.  A drainage
ditch that ran off excess rainwater fed this swimming hole, but it was
also fed by a constant spring.  We really got to cool off well there.
Wayne waited until no cars were on the road that was visible from the
swimming hole.  Then, he hollered, "Boner!" As he stuck his 3 inch
stiff pubescent meat into the air.  He knew I loved seeing it, since he
came in my mouth at least every evening, and I flashed mine above water,
too.
Suddenly, a flash took place out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to
see Stevie grin.  I asked him, "What did you just pull out of the
water?"
Without hesitancy, or caring if cars were passing, he pulled his body to
the top of the water, and revealed the most beautiful little boyboner I
have ever seen.  It was a full three inches long, if not longer, and very
slender, like my middle finger.  My heart literally skipped a beat.  His
shorts had to be around his ankles!
"Let's take those boners inside the storm drain!"  I cried, as we
dashed into the metal cave, pulling our shorts off.
We stood there and admired each other's bodies.  Stevie, Wayne, and I
walked the length of the storm drain, fully erect.  I had to follow that
little love of mine, and admire his ass.  I couldn't help but take my
hand to my mouth; collect some spit, and rub my aching cock for relief.
My mind drifted back to a dream I had after Stevie got circumcised.
Wayne, Stevie, and myself were all naked, and Wayne had Stevie's hot
boner in his mouth.  Of course, in the dream, I could not see his hard
dick, because I did not know what it looked like.  I had my tongue on
Stevie's boyhole, exploring it.  Stevie was laughing, looking at me over
his shoulder and telling me what a wonderful feeling what I was doing was
making in him.
"Stop playing with your penis!" Were the words that snapped me out of
the daydream, which really was a night dream.  Stevie looked agitated.  I
could not describe the feelings that came over me.  I went from getting
my hopes up about making love with my honorary brother to feeling like I
would scare him if I went further.  I felt he had no interest.
We gathered up our shorts and pushed our boners down, and got back into
the water.  When Stevie left that day, I started to regret that I did not
take him into my arms and rub his little body all over, and go down on
his sweet boymeat.  With a boy that affectionate, he could come to want
to return favors, kiss, and who knows what else?  But, even if not, just
getting to please him would make me melt.
This happened on June 15, after I got my first job, on a day off  I even
marked it down on my calendar on my desk, in code, so noone else could
know what it meant.  I was 16, and Wayne and Stevie were 12.    Stevie
had not begun to show signs of puberty.  I've been sucking Wayne off for
quite a few months now, and he blows cum into my mouth every night. In
fact, I even marked down the day big brother first made him cum, even
though he did not seem to view it as special.   So, I'd much rather have
a hairless cock in my mouth, attached to a boy who loves me a whole lot.
To tell you the truth, just having the love all the time would be better
than what I have now.  And when I get in this mood, I go into the
basement and open a jar of cherries.  Somehow, I get a strong connection
with yesterday, what could have been, and in my case, the things I could
have done with my little snuggly brother.

CHAPTER 4: IT'S THE PITS

When a young man works his first job and earns some money, he feels like
he is accomplishing something.  I loved the fact that I was in no way
intolerant to large quantities of fruit juices nor of fruit, and that I
like them so much.  But juices normally last much longer that fresh
fruit, unless it was canned.  Now, with my own money, I could buy all I
wanted, and put it in the refrigerator in my recreation room.
Boy, did I ever hit the store and stock up, buying all the bargains on
100% juice!  I was quite confident this could last a long time, plus if
Stevie or the boy next door wanted some, I could be generous.  Jamie was
a good smooth boy to 69 with, but I wasn't at all attracted to him, and
he lied constantly.  It seemed he had a bad home life, and was developing
emotional problems due to it, but whom I love the most was not a matter
of pity.  Jamie was like Stevie in not having a brother, but Stevie's
disposition drew people to him.
As it was this summer I started the job, my older sister and her three
small kids came up to stay with us for a while.  I often used some of my
juice to help supplement the sugary drinks they had, and I did this
especially as rewards for being good.
My older nephew Charlie was 3 and I have never failed to notice a
boycock, even on a boy that age, especially if it were stiff.  Charlie
sat on the floor, and played with a book with a glossy laminated cover.
He noticed the reflective quality of the book, and pulled out a little
uncircumcised stiffy to admire it's reflection.  My sister called him
down on that, but I was quite horny, and Charlie was endowed well, and
his boymeat was almost the size of Stevie's, and I had to get away.
I went to the shed for a drink of Cherry juice.  Well, I had none left,
and did not want to open any of the few bottles of other things I did not
like so much.  I was thinking of Stevie so, and grabbed a spoon off the
table, and went to the basement to open a jar of cherries.
There still were several unopened jars, and I did not do this often.  If
I didn't have a whole day off of work, I wouldn't even be here.  But,
now, my mind was on Stevie, and what could have been.  And, too, the
basement was the place of solitude in the house.  I could sit on the
potato bin, which was an antiquity in itself for storing potatoes from
the garden, and spit the seeds on the dirt floor as I contemplated my
being lovesick for my Stevie.  Perhaps, too, one of the seeds would
sprout, and I could start a cherry tree somewhere.
The potato bin ran from a distance 3 foot from the northeast corner of
the house and in itself was only 3 feet long.  It also stood about 3 foot
high.  I often thought of it being so carefully , almost mathematically
placed where it was.  Perhaps the builder wanted it accessible from both
sides, and wanted plenty of room to empty bushel baskets of potatoes from
the field into it. If the potatoes were left not touching each other,
they would not rot or sprout for a long time, into the next year.
I guess it was time I spit the pits into the corner behind the potato
bin.  I probably had about 30 of them, and too, I decided that the ones I
left on the ground in front of the bin were too obvious, and I kicked
them into the little 3-foot square area.  Also, I saw a rusty lid on a
jar.  Upon closer inspection I noticed the jar was partially opened, and
I dumped the spoiled cherries into the area that I just had thrown all
the other seeds.  They would dry out, maybe germinate, who knows?  And
besides, who ever looks behind there?
The summer was over as fast as it began, really.  The only good news, was
that in absence of having Stevie over as much as we did, I got to take
him and my little brother to their middle school orientation program,
just 3 days prior to it beginning.  I was having to take Wayne, so it was
only natural to drive to the old neighborhood and get him, too.
Stevie was just stunningly cute that day.  He had on a white beach bum
type shirt and a pair of white, tight jeans that made me view him as a
lollipop, and I quickly felt like a diabetic, dying to have him, but
knowing that this may be as forbidden.  Still, I put him in between Wayne
and me in the big front seat of my Pontiac Lemans, and we got to snuggle,
like I knew he liked to do.  A clean break from that near the school zone
was in order, though.  After I took him home, it was time to go to the
basement.
Really, quite out of frustration of the sexual tension with him sitting
by my side, stroking my leg when he would talk to me, I was quite horny,
too.  This was something I could do something about.  I had the image of
his beautiful body, boner and all on June 15 in my head, plus the
sensation of him touching me today, all fresh in mind.  I also had a
European book I found in the Dumpster at work, showing prepubescent kids
and teenagers enjoying themselves and each other sexually.  I kept that
one down in the cellar, and it was good mental fuel for a good hard
come.  These were the first images I ever saw like that, and I saw how
honestly the family members loved each other, sex and all, and I only
wanted such intimacy for the boy of my dreams.  His love was nice while I
didn't have the sex.  I couldn't force it.
Pulling my 6 inches out of my pants, I lubed my fingers with my spit, and
began a massage of my sex wand.  I tugged at my balls when they began to
feel tight, and I spewed my sperm. Pics of naked boys, and the one in my
head of a real one, took little time to get me off.   I took the hanky
out of my pocket, and cleaned up.  My sexually fulfilled feelings were
soon enough replaced by ones that made me feel hopeless as to my cause in
love.
Grabbing a jar of cherries, popping it open with my spoon, I sat it on
the ledge of the windowsill.  But, I wasn't going to start eating this
jar, not right now.  I really was not only pitying myself, but feeling
guilty over my sexual feelings for this pre-pubescent boy, and feeling
gay and different, and not at all appreciated by my little brother, and I
had to wonder if it did any good to be kind to Stevie.  I even started to
feel he forgot all about my fraternal attitude toward him, despite
evidence to the contrary.
As the tears started down my cheeks, I heard footsteps on the cellar
steps.  I wondered who that could be, as noone ever came down here except
for me.
"Eddie?" Called out my little brother Wayne.
"What?" I answered, as I turned to face the window, so he wouldn't see
my tears.  It had begun to rain steadily, and the forecast called for it
to do so all night, abating by morning.
"That was Stevie on the phone.  He called to thank you for driving him
to the school.  I think he looks up to you a lot, like the big brother he
don't have.  It kind of shows how he talks about you.  And, what are you
doing down here?"
"Nothing, just tasting these cherries!  Is Stevie still on the phone?"
"Yeah, he wanted me to tell you while he waited."
I smiled through my tears, but would not face him.  "Tell Stevie I was
glad to, and I'll call him later tonight."
"Okay, You know, it`s gonna rain for a while, and maybe get heavier.
I`m gonna go to the shed for a while and look at the porno mags a bit
after I tell Stevie," Wayne said, and went back upstairs.  I could take
my stare off the window, and I swung around to get a view of the quart
jar of cherries, as I had put it on my left side, closer to the corner.
I put the jar back into my left hand and picked up my spoon, which I
quickly dropped onto the floor, in  the 3-foot by 3 foot by 3-foot
corner.  I could have never been prepared for what I saw looking into the
corner where I spit and threw the cherry pits.
I looked at my watch.  It was 3:30, and I knew Bart would be home.  I
would spend all evening in my room, if need be, calling him, discussing
this, and making notes on my paper, if I needed to.  Dad would be home
not long after this and I didn't want him to know I was poking in the
basement for so long.

CHAPTER 5: "ARRAY" OF HOPE

"Bart, I just have to ask your ideas on something.  If you knew of an
archaeological discovery, where small dots were indented into a surface,
in rows of 7, some rows being partial, just the end of a row of 7, or the
beginning, what would you make of it?"  I inquired on the phone, as soon
as I saw the cherry pits in the dirt floor.
"Tell me what the totals of the numbers in each grouping are," said
Bart.
"31, 31, 29, 31, 30, 31, 30, 31, and 31," I replied.
"Well, now, this could be an ancient algorhythm or a dimension in which
we plug in this array of numbers, or even a sub string of variables
for..."
"Hold it, Bart.  I don't mean so much mathematically, although it could
have such significance.  I just mean, overall, what could be the various
explanations for the arrangement of dots?"
"Is this an actual find that you read about, or maybe saw a documentary
of?" Bart inquired.
"Oh, yes, it occurred, and I want to know if you have any hypotheses on
it."  I only told partial truth.  This occurred, but not on an
archaeological dig.
"I can plug these values into my computer, and get back to you, if that
is all right," said Bart.
"It's fine; I will talk with you later.  Auf Wiedersehen!" I replied
in our customary German salutation, and hung up.
With the diagram in my hand, I rushed upstairs to my desk to study it.
This made no sense to me.  What did this arrangement of dots on my paper
mean?  I spaced them out just as I found them, but I did not dare disturb
the arrangement I saw.  Just then, the phone rang.
"Hallo, Eduard?" Bart started his conversation in German.
"Ja, was hast du gefunden?"  I asked, not even thinking that he may not
understand my reply in German, which was asking him what he found.  My
mind was working in German; his was only geared up on the math.
"You'll have to give me a German lesson in a moment.  But first, I have
to tell you, my computer search revealed some interesting things, such as
arrays, a way to average things to about 30, depending on how many groups
there were overall, crude lunar cycle estimations, the Gregorian
calendar, and the list goes on..."
That was it!  A calendar was laid out before my eyes on this paper.
"You know, this could be calendar related, and depending on how they
used these dots, that seems the most logical guess I could fathom.  I
think this was the purpose, though without supporting evidence, you never
know.  Hey, thanks, and I'll tutor you some in German next week, but I
have to go for now."
I went to the basement with my paper in hand.  I lay it down in outside
the 3 foot by 3-foot square section of ground, and stared at the cherry
pits in it.  So, the pits were arranged in groups of calendar months on
the ground, but by whom, or what?  And why?
The mud filled box contained only neatly arranged cherry pits, and one
set of footprints in the very middle.  But, there were none going in, or
coming out.  The prints resembled extremely large boot prints, with no
designs in the underside.  They pointed inward, toward the corner.
As I walked to the other wall, which had no cherry pits arranged, I
walked up behind the foot designs.  I was quite astonished to see a
square hewn perfectly in the mud, in front of each footprint, if it could
be called that.  In each square, were 6 rows of 7 perfectly spaced
indentations.
Aside from these indentations being without cherry seeds in them, I could
detect little difference from the ones with them.  I quickly filled out a
diagram of it, and came to the conclusion that almost all calendar months
have at least 5 partial weeks, and some; 6.  So, really, it could be
deduced that these squares represented blank calendar months.
There was something else just above the two boxes, on the stones that
formed the corner, and barely discernible.  A very crude representation
of a human was formed around the rock, and a dot on either side of the
leg was marked, a lot more clearly than the human figure.  I would not
even consider this, until I figured out the meaning of the other
details.
What was the meaning of this, and whom was it meant for to discern?  What
if it was me?  I had to give it some thought, and I pondered on the
arrangement of cherry pits.  If the third month was February, having only
28 that month, than the first must be December, and the last, August of
this year.  And, what was significant for the month of December, other
than our moving into the house that month?
They call a realization of that magnitude an epiphany.  There was a
message being directed to me, and my use of time.  I came to realize that
whatever it was; it could take some of the gloominess out of my heart.  I
did not like being heartbroken over my little boyfriend, who did not
return my affections in the way I imagined he should.  As these squares
of cherry pits, the most mundane things in the world, were arrayed into
calendar formations on my cellar floor, I began to sense hope, even if it
was for my self-pitying attitude.  I contemplated this all night,
forgetting any other obligations to anyone.  The sound of the raindrops
hitting the tin roof lulled me to sleep, like it always had.

CHAPTER 6: SEEDS WITHOUT ROOT DO STAY IN PLACE SOMETIMES

The next morning, I awoke, and feeling good to be alive.  The rain had
passed, without as much as a cloud in the sky, or in the forecast for the
holiday weekends.  It was Saturday, September 1, and we go back to school
on Tuesday, after Labor Day.  The first thoughts that usually come to me
in the morning are the last things I considered.  So, I thought about the
strange things in the basement.  Then, I thought about Stevie.  Suddenly,
I remembered that I promised him a phone call last night.  I began to
feel a sinking feeling in my stomach.  I had never broken a promise to
him.  I could call him right now, but that would not undo the fact that I
let him down.
Normally, I wake up hungry.  Now, I just felt bad.  I barely had overcome
self-pity from not being closer to Stevie, to feeling like I was pushing
him away with starting to break promises.  I looked at the diagrams of
the calendars in the cellar floor on my paper, and circled yesterday,
wishing I could redo it.  I wondered why there was not a calendar
formation of cherry pits for September.  Slowly, I wandered down there to
look at it again.  I was going to make sense of it yet.

Surprises never cease, and the last box of cherry pits that represented
August was joined by a new one, with 30 dots, this time, with just one
cherry pit in it.  I noticed a pile of pits near each leg of the potato
bin, and wondered if they were being transported somehow from there to
the calendar formations.  I could only assume it was to mean September,
with the first day, today, being in it.  I jotted it down next to my
diagram of August, and went back upstairs to locate the calendar.
My suspicions were confirmed.  The cherry was in the dot that
corresponded to Saturday, September 1.  I circled it on my paper, wishing
that I could trade the days, one for the other, and relive yesterday all
over again.  Whatever powers that brought this all together, it would be
most kind of them to allow that, but, of course, I expected no such thing
to occur.
But, what would be the harm in fiddling with the cherry pits as they lay
in place?  I hastily ran down the stairs and got into the square where
they lay, and moved August 30 and September 1, each into the place of the
other.
At this point in my life, you could not convince me of any sort of
wizardry, magic, or supernatural power being responsible for things.  I
knew unexplained phenomena existed, and the best I reckoned, we just
lacked scientific knowledge to explain them.
But I was astonished at what I witnessed.  I don't give into fear of the
unknown, but I do remain in awe of it.  The cherry pits left the dents I
placed them in, as if by being rolled by some force, took up their
original positions.  So, evidently, changing one of them for the other
within their respective calendars was useless, and I became solidly
convinced that they definitely represented dates on the calendar.
My life did not simply pass in 16 years without me being perseverant
about things.  When you are very poor, have no running water, and lack
many of the normal modern conveniences, you learn tenacity.  I would not
give up, at least when it comes to learning of new things.
Well, I was just as inspired to look for other experiments within the
same realm that I was in.  I honed in on the shoeprints, and the blank
calendars that proceeded each one.  So, I decided to put each cherry pit
within the place corresponding to it on the blank ones.  But, this time,
they did not move.  Really, I was as disappointed as I was amazed a
moment ago.
Undaunted, I switched yesterday's pit with today's.  Still nothing
happened.  Perhaps nothing was happening due to me not pushing things
down firmly.  I stepped into the shoeprints for leverage, but only with
the tips of my toes, as I pressed down on the seeds.  I could not keep my
balance, so I pushed my feet firmly into the boot prints, and then
pressed down with my fingertips.  This in itself was a beginning on a
long adventure that would occupy no more than a day, but its effects
would last a lifetime.

CHAPTER 7: SAME OLD DAY, DIFFERENT STUFF

Often, I felt things that noone else felt.  I often felt mild electrical
sensations from squatting.  I also heard high-pitched noises without any
explanation.  This could be in part from having an accident when I was
12, when I fractured my skull, and experienced memory loss pertaining to
the particulars about the accident.  I also tended to ruin wind-up
wristwatches, and they claimed my body chemistry caused them to stop
moving.  This was a most bizarre feeling when you realize you have
stopped the movement of another watch.  I often sensed it as soon as it
happened.
This feeling, as I placed my feet firmly into the boot prints and pushed
down on August 31 and September 1st's points on the calendar formations,
by means of the cherry pits, was different entirely.  Not shock, nor
nausea, or any other feeling from my past senses, but more like some of
the disorientation caused by driving in dense fog when you cannot see the
road.  Since I experienced this recently, it seemed to be the nearest
thing I could compare it to.
 I heard that airplane pilots experience this type of thing, when they
have no point of reference on the horizon, but they find their
instruments to be all showing that things are fine.  Sometimes, they
distrust their instruments and start flying upside down, with some level
of fatality.
But, even this was not the exact phenomenon.  I was transfixed on the
point where the blank calendars held one seed each, my fingers on them,
and the diagram that was in the rocks by them on the wall.  Despite
having every muscle in by body involuntarily motionless, I did perceive
out of the corner of my eyes, that a glow existed around the visions
before my eyes, roughly 3 feet across, 3 feet wide, and 3 feet deep.
Additionally, the room seemed to spin counterclockwise, at least 18
times, by my estimation.  What appeared to be hallucinations occurred
before me eyes, with the most recent events of the day unfolding during
each revolution of the room, the most recent being first, and the events
of yesterday afternoon being last.  As for me, I was unable to move, as
if I was held in time and space to experience the sensations and
phenomena, which were occurring, and nothing else.  I felt and heard the
ticks of my wristwatch come to an abrupt halt, too, but I was powerless
to the point of even moving my eyes to see it.  I could contemplate,
however.  This watch had a one-year battery, and Mom and Dad had given it
to me for Christmas.  It should not be stopping.
When the room stopped spinning, the "hallucinations" of my memories of
the recent events stopped.  The most recent of these was the conversation
with my brother Wayne about Stevie's phone call, and my going upstairs
to ponder the meaning of the cherry pits on the floor.  My hands were
still upon each seed when I knew it was safe to straighten up and come
back to reality, whatever that was at the moment.
Getting up caused me to see out the window, that it was raining, just
like it had yesterday.  This was really inconceivable when I took into
account the sunny, cloudless sky of the morning, and the forecast.  And,
how long had I been in the spins and hallucinations?  I looked down on my
wristwatch and saw: 4PM, Friday, September 31, as it began ticking
again.
A lesson I learned about having an accident, in which you cannot remember
how it happened, was that it DID happen nonetheless, and you have to live
with the consequences of it.  The matter of fact way in which I deal with
things has been shaped by that.  Knowing that somehow, I was transported
back to yesterday, at 4 PM, I had to deal with it.
As I mentioned, the glow surrounding my 3 foot cubed space was gone.
This was true all except the diagram of the man in the corner rocks.
That is where I noticed that the places by the figure's legs were
pulsating.  I picked each of the seeds I had transferred, and put them at
my side.  The pulsating stopped, but they glowed.  I put them in my
pockets, until I could discern their meaning, and the glow faded
entirely.
Elements of time travel, as proposed by my genius friend Bart, had
remained simple: It was achievable, by a hypercube, and that if it were
to be done, one must fix the problem, not encounter any previous self,
and come back.
Well, I was emerging from a 3 dimensional cube.  The fourth dimension
that it needed to serve as a hypercube eluded me, but was present
nonetheless.  The other Eddie was upstairs, for some time.  My greatest
problem yesterday was failing to call Stevie back.  If I could pull this
off, I would know my limits, more or less.
Timing was of the essence.  As far as I was concerned, yesterday, which
was now, was a perfect day, and nothing was left needing to be rectified,
except for keeping my word with Stevie about calling him back.  Wayne
informing me how much Stevie felt for me was a sure boost to my wishes to
fix my error.  And, although this would only take a phone call, I would
have to avoid the real me, or anyone who knew that I was upstairs.  Dad
would be home in 20 minutes, and he could not see me go down to the
cellar, only to emerge and be found at the same time to be up in my
room.
During this period, the yesterday Eddie was making a phone call, and
waiting on one, all from his own room.  Wayne was in the shed, looking at
porno mags, and probably jerking off.  I or yesterday's Eddie would be
there to suck it for him, if both of us weren't involved with this new
mysterious thing so heavily.  There was just one course of action.
Looking carefully around from the basement door, I exited, and  I was
going to go out through the front, but there was too much risk of being
found.  I took the wetter course of going around back the house, and
outside in the rain, to go to the neighbor's.  At least this one
entrance was enclosed, and I dripped while waiting for Diane to come to
the door.
"Diane, can I use your phone?  Ours is all tied up right now, and I
would like to keep a promise and return a call before I forget," I said,
as she opened the door and let me inside.
"Of course, Eddie.  I don't see why you got so wet.  You could have
stayed on the front porch and come to the side door."
Diane had me sit at the dining room table and handed me the cordless
phone.  She left the room and went to care for some other matters, as I
dialed Stevie's number.
"Hello, Harper residence, big Steven speaking." Was the voice that
greeted me from the other end.
"Hello, Steve, this is Eddie.  Little Stevie wanted to talk to me
earlier, and I was occupied.  Would he be available to speak right now?"
I asked, as my heart pounded at the opportunity to tell him what I felt.
"Of course, Eddie.  I am so grateful you took Stevie with you when you
took Wayne to orientation.  He really looks up to you, and talks about
you more than he does Wayne.  We really appreciate that so much.  And of
course, Stevie is inside, due to it raining.  I'll call him."
"Thanks, Steve," I barely managed to speak those two words without
getting all choked up on the phone.  I did manage to compose myself as I
awaited the voice of my honorary little brother.
"Eddie!  I've been waiting for you to call!  I wanted to thank you for
taking us to the school.  It was so great to have you drive us there.
The other boys think you're my older brother, and I won't let them
think any different.  It sure was funny to see the look on their faces.
Most of them don't get along with their brothers.  I don't see why.
I'd love to have an older brother like you."
How nicely unnerving.  I dropped the phone in shock from the words I just
heard.
"Eddie, are you still there?" I heard as I picked the phone up off of
my lap.
Fighting back the tears, I began to tell him what was on my mind.
"Listen, Champ.  You are very important to me.  You've given my little
brother a playmate, and what is important, someone else to look after.
I'll never be able to tell Wayne how much it means to me to help him
like I help you with stuff.  He doesn't say thanks or anything.  I'd
have you as my brother, too, if I c-could."  I couldn't hold back the
tears much more.
"Eddie, why does it sound like you are shivering?"  Stevie sounded
really concerned.
"Listen, Sport, I was out in the rain, there was something I had to take
care of before it got raining really hard.  So, I'm shivering a bit.
But don't worry about it.  The only important thing is that I love you,
and I got to go, okay?"
"Okay, Eddie, um, I love you too."  I know it sounded strange to him,
since I never said it before, but this was for me as well as for him.  I
couldn't let him suffer in any time, today, or yesterday, or in any
dimension, if I could control it.
"Now, listen Eddie, now that you are done your phone call, I have a
towel for you to dry off with, and here is a nice cup of hot tea to
drink.  Oh, and I have some cookies I bought for Mattie, for when he gets
home from his cub scouts meeting."  Diane said these things and sat down
beside me.
"You know, I overheard enough to know you were talking to Stevie.  I
know you just adore him.  Mattie does not understand, and he gets
jealous.  But, you've been good to him, too, and I want to thank you."
I thought back of the time that Mattie came up behind Stevie and was
attempting to Karate kick him in the back of the head.  He landed flat on
his back.  I had to laugh then, and it was hard to hide the reason for my
smile then.  Diane just assumed it was for the compliment.  Another
reason to smile was his 69ing with me all the time I was free.  Of
course, I suppressed relaying either thing.
"Thanks Diane.  This is good tea, and the cookies were good, too.
Mattie will enjoy them.  I will have to go now, because Dad is due in
soon, and I don't want to miss him."
Diane let me out the door, and I ran around the front porch, since she
let me out that way.  I still was not going to go in the front door, and
I ventured down the front steps from the plantation style porch, and
around to the back door, by our side of the house.
When I got in the back door, I hurried down the steps.  Mission
accomplished for that part. Now, how do I get back to today, which was
tomorrow from now?

CHAPTER 7: THE OTHER SIDE OF YESTERDAY?

If I had a lot of time to ponder and speculate on things, I would do just
that.  But, for reasons I could not fathom at the time, I was transported
back in time to yesterday, 30 minutes behind the yesterday Eddie being
there.  That was just enough time to fix the mistake I made about not
calling Stevie like I promised.  Now, I needed to go back, before Dad
would come home, and perhaps detect one Eddie in his room, one in the
basement, his kid sex book, and his cherry pit time travel devise.
Taking Algebra, German, Chemistry, and English classes made me think
quickly.  I had to reverse the order of what I did to get here, to have
any hope of getting back.  This would mean getting into the boot prints,
putting the seeds down, back in their proper places, and pressing down on
them, if there was any consistency to the laws that govern this process.
All of the laws of known mathematics and science were consistent, and I
hoped these were.
Getting into the box, and stepping into the footprints, I took the seeds
out of my pockets.  The spots on the human figure representing each seed
lit up.  I put them down, in August 30, and September 1.  The lights just
blinked, and nothing happened.
Really, I had to wipe the sweat from my brow, which had come to replace
the rain that had wet my head a few minutes before.  Then, it hit me.  I
had reversed the seeds to reverse the order of days!
I quickly readjusted them, and the remarkable transformation that got me
here got underway.
This was not the same.  Sure, I felt spatial disorientation, and could
not see anything but the figure again.  Of course, I detected the cubicle
surrounding me, and the nearly holographic images of the events from 4pm
yesterday to the present transpire again, but in proper order, not in
reverse.  Also, the room spun clockwise, about 15 times.  I felt my watch
stop, only to realize that the hands were moving, without it ticking
during that time.  Once again, I was unable to move.
Coming back to the proper time, the time I had started out from, was my
goal.  It was 9:15 a.m. Saturday, September 1, by my watch, and the sun
shone through the basement window as it had when I left this this time.
Sure, I had spent perhaps 30 minutes in yesterday, but only 15 minutes
had passed since I first got up today, and headed straight to the
basement.
Now, the only sound thing left to do was to replace the seeds in their
proper places.  The lights went out of the human figure, and my 3-foot
cube room was as I found it.  I had some serious thinking to do, not only
about what this meant, but also about telling Stevie I loved him, and the
consequences that existed from altering the not so distant past.  I got
so carried away in doing so, telling him that I loved him.  He could not
possibly understand.
Going up the stairs of the basement, then up the stairs again to my room,
I was prepared to sit at my desk and contemplate.  I found my little
brother, Wayne on my phone, and he was saying goodbye to someone.
"Eddie!  Guess what?  Stevie is coming over for the weekend!  His
parents had plans to go somewhere for the Labor Day Weekend, but he was
not feeling well enough to travel.  He wanted to stay with us.  He said
he decided this yesterday afternoon, while it was raining.  I wandered
what that had to do with it."
Okay, so I had shaped his ideas of me and his decision by going back in
time and telling him what I thought.  Had I done the right thing, seeing
how I only made this decision after letting him down, when it is what I
would have done, and it is what I did to start with?
I racked my brains with this dilemma, and I just about tortured my
boyloving heart. Now, I felt guilty for two reasons, and I couldn't come
to full justification on either one.  I loved Stevie, tenderly, and I
wanted more of his sweet cuddly love, and I also lusted after him.  I
wouldn't harm him. I wanted to pleasure him without return to me, if he
didn't want it.  But that was a lust in itself, getting off on
pleasuring a boy.  Too, I changed history, even if it was only
yesterday's.  I had to get back to yesterday, the other side of it; the
one I was in before I altered it, and all future to come.
I went back to the cellar with tears forming in my eyes.  I wanted to
leave all events unaltered by time travel, and accept the consequences of
what I had done to begin with.  I raced to the box, and picked up the
seeds of the calendar.  I put August 31 back into the blank calendar
where September 1 was, and pressed the seeds down, as I stepped into the
footprints.  Only the head of the figure lit up, and a voice behind me
said, "Young man!"

CHAPTER 8: VIERSEITIG DABBLES INTO BOYLOVE, TOO

Sure, I was startled, but not overly surprised.  Nothing had been totally
rational lately.  The figure behind me was that of a man, who seemed to
be in his mid 30's, with a very nondescript one-piece uniform, one of a
material I could not identify. It seemed neither metallic, nor cloth. The
color was perhaps gray, but nearly the most neutral color I could
imagine.   It was not what one would imagine seeing on a being that
revealed the things that he did.  The outline of his head glowed, like
that of the figure in the corner of the rocks.
"I am Vierseitig, keeper of the 4th dimension.  We do not let just
anyone in here.  It was a struggle for good to prevail over it and it's
use, so we don't pick our time travelers lightly.  We know all about
you, and that you are a sexual being.  Sexuality is something that does
not pertain to us at all, and I only appear male so you can relate to
me."
"What brought you to our attention was your admirable sense of
compassion, which lacks in your world.  This thing you call love, which
seems to be the chief catalyst of this quality in your world, dominates
your being, and you are intrinsically qualified for use of the power that
it the hypercube gives."
"You are about to make a serious mistake, though.  What you have done is
alter the past.  You did this to change a mistake you already made.  We
know of your love for the boy, and the satisfaction that you add to his
life.  This is a rare achievement in your temporal world."
"By using your cube to make a portal for our dimension, we distracted
you and caused you to be preoccupied with its meaning.  We regret this
development, and your compassion has perhaps taught us to allow you to
correct the fact that you failed to keep your promise.  We realize you
are only human and wished for you to make allowance for that.  In fact,
the things we use for our enabling time travel our not at all
representative of what you would use, so we had to use your Gregorian
Calendar, and the germination pods for the round nutritive substances,
which you refer to the seeds of cherries."
"Generally, we do not wish for our travelers to alter the past for their
own benefit.  This action can be used for malevolent purposes.  But,
owing to the character of one like you, we have permitted it.  We can and
will intervene when we feel that this is about to be misused.  I am the
sole enabler of the physical laws that allow you to travel in time.  I am
the one represented by the human figure, with you serving in my stead in
this realm.  The dots on each side are to represent the days you have
exchanged, and you are to keep the seeds in the compartments of your
garments, which you refer to as pockets."
"We wish in this instance that you put as much faith in your own
integrity to trust the decision you have just made.  In many instances,
we have ones simply take the consequences for this.  It is my feeling
that you need to do both in this instance.  I will not permit for you to
go back and alter tomorrow once more.  This is the end of our
communication on this matter."
And with that, he was gone.
There was no use in trying to summon him back.  He made himself, I guess
in his world, itself clear on these matters.  I felt he may be right, but
I was not convinced, despite being of vastly greater intellect and
knowledge than I.  Feelings in us "temporal" creatures are not swayed
easily, when they are so deeply rooted.
I simply put the "germination pods of the round nutritive substance"
back and left the cubicle, and climbed the stairs to the first floor.  As
I came to the top of the stairs, I turned and looking out the back door,
saw Stevie and his father pull into the driveway, and stop the car.
Stevie looked glum, as he got out of the car, and looked like he was
trying to hide not only a secret, but as if he were straining to be
miserable for some reason.
"Eddie, we want to thank you guys again for looking after Stevie.  He
really likes being with you guys, well, and I heard him say he loves you
yesterday on the phone."
I nearly froze as Big Steve said those words.  I knew it may have been
rushed on my part to do this, and I was awaiting a confrontation about
it.
"It's not every day that a young man like you can be a volunteer big
brother to a boy, and be the just enough of a great fellow to show them
that us males can and should feel.  He nearly cried after hanging up, and
although I knew his stomach was bothering him, I think this is the first
emotionally good tear I've seen him shed.  You are contributing much to
his development as a well balanced little man we can be proud of."
Steve was saying these things to me directly, for little Stevie was on
his way to the house with his belongings.  We were walking behind him, as
I welcomed Mr. Harper into the house.
"Look, you know that Stevie is no baby.  Just don't give him too much
heavy or sugary stuff that will aggravate his diarrhea and you ought to
be okay.  If the diarrhea gets out of hand, he knows how to clean himself
up, and use the bath.  Just show him to the washing machine, and he'll
appreciate your help to keep his privacy.  That`s how we`ve been
handling his episodes, which he hasn`t had for a day or two.  But none
of this surprises you, I know.  You are an uncle to all those rug rats of
your sister I`ve been seeing here."
We had caught up to Stevie by then, and Stevie hugged me, as a child who
was sick would do to a more grown person looking after him.  I looked
down at his long face, and as my bosom covered it, he winked and walked
off.  I was quite sure I detected a naughty smile.
"Stevie, give me a hug goodbye and you do everything Eddie tells you.
Your medicine is here, and this twenty dollars is not for you.  It is for
Eddie to use in whatever manner he sees fit for your care.  He also has a
list of numbers where I can be reached at your Aunt Clara's.  Honestly,
if she had kids your age, and you weren't feeling so poorly, I would
make you go.  I'll get you Monday evening."
As he hugged his father, another wink, and a grin at me when he faced
away from him.  Stevie put on his long face as he faced his father and
said goodbye.  Out the door Big Steve went.
"Okay, little man.  You and I need to talk about what's been going on
here.  Let's go upstairs and talk.  Wayne's in the shed.  I think you
and I need a little private time."  I said this to him as I caught a
serious but not intimidated stare from him, and we went up the stairs.  I
noticed his little, tight butt in the blue jeans, and how they were
filled out by it.  Still, there was other stuff to be discussed.  Sexual
feelings were on the back burner again.

CHAPTER 9: WHO IS KIDDING WHOM?

"Stevie, please sit down.  What I want to talk to you about probably
won't take long, unless you have any questions for me.  But, you are
worth my attention.  I think you know that."  I said this as he
complied.
Look, Champ.  I just need you to be honest with me and tell me.  Is all
this winking and grinning at me to tell me that you are not sick?  You
are not in trouble with me if you are fooling your father."
"No, I am not sick.  I was, but---"
I didn't let him finish.  I picked him up, slammed him flat on his back
onto the bed, and pinned him down.  I thought for sure he'd start
giggling as I tickled him and played with him.
"Dammit, Eddie!  You just don't get it.  I-I'm not playing, n-not..."
That was it.  He started sobbing uncontrollably, and I felt like such a
heel for frightening him.  I lay beside him and pulled him into my arms
and stroked his hair.  That's when I started crying, too.  It seemed to
me, whether today, or yesterday, I just kept letting him and myself
down.  I never could stand to see the heart of a boy breaking.  It's
like someone is stabbing my heart, too.
"Man, Sport, I just don't deserve you.  I was only trying to play, and
I scared you," I said, as I felt his tears on my shirt.  I couldn't
help but notice how mine were falling into his hair as I kissed his
head.  Just then, he looked up at me, and I thought I was getting ready
to lose his respect, and his love.  I deserved that.
Through teary eyes, he caught mine, and tried to smile to counter my long
face.
"You didn't scare me, Eddie.  I love to play rough.  But you didn't
let me finish.  Now this is important.  Are you going to let me finish
telling you something or not?"
Okay, I wasn't as big a let down, but a failure nonetheless.  I wiped
the tears from my eyes, and his, and sat up a big straighter as I held
him.
"What I was trying to say was I was sick, but not for the last day or
so.  I told Daddy I was sick still because I want to be with you.  I love
you."
"I know, we covered that on the phone yesterday.  Look, it wasn't easy
for me to say, but when you love your brother, you just can't help from
telling him."
I did not want to tell him of any other depth of my love, and now was no
time to bring up sex.  I don't think that the keeper of the fourth
dimension knew what he was talking about when he said to trust myself and
my judgment on things.  I did indeed want to tell him.
I could do no right.  He started crying again.  All I knew to do was to
hold him, love him, and hate myself.
"If you weren't so smart, you wouldn't be so dense sometimes!  I just
plain love you!  Yes, I love you as a brother, too, but I've always
loved you!  And you don't understand, cuz noone does.  Boys aren't
supposed to love other boys.  I don't know in what way I love you, but
you don't feel the same."
Well, finally, it was time to stop hurting for myself, and start hurting
for him, and I mean really.  And the only way I've ever known to reach a
hurt heart, even Stevie's was with love.  As profound as what he said
was, I couldn't convince him with words, so I pulled him closer.
This little boy was still crying as I kissed his hair, tasting my own
tears.  I placed my lips on his forehead, and said, "I do understand
Stevie.  You and I think alike."
"No, you don't!"  He shouted at me, but only in frustration, as he
pulled his head into my bosom to sob more.
"You aren't going to believe me then, but you better obey me, just like
your father said to do.  I can't force you to stop crying, but you need
to lie down on the bed.  I don't want to hold you right now, if I can't
convince you that we are talking about the same thing."
He complied, with his hands on his eyes, letting out a wail at what I had
said.  I straddled his body, and bent down, looking down at his face.
After about 5 minutes of battling tears with his fists, he finally looked
up.
" I didn't think you wanted to be with me, while we cannot see things
in the same way."  He said, a little snippily.
"No, little man, I won't hold you while you don't believe me, that is
all." And I kissed his cheek.  But it was time for more, as I watched
his heartbroken eyes widen with the kind of look a boy gets when he gets
a double scoop of ice cream. I kissed his cheeks, both of them, and
nibbled at his ear on the other side.  But, this wasn't for tickling,
and for once, he seemed to know it.

"Stevie, you are right, boys are not supposed to love boys.  It is not
understood by most people.  But I do. When I told you yesterday that I
loved you, you only heard a brother's love. That's all I wanted you to
think, not wanting to have you think I'm weird.  But, I meant a lot
more."
 I brought my lips down fully on his, as I watched his eyes widen in
ecstatic disbelief.  He moved his lips across mine, the best a small boy
could, who has never kissed anyone with passion before.
He pulled away as quickly as he started.  "Okay, Eddie, I believe you. I
never thought you'd really understand, or be like me.  Wow.  What do we
do now?"
I pulled him fully into my arms again, and whispered, "You don't have
to do anything.  Just be yourself.  Let's just lay here a while and
snuggle."
Not only did I have a boner, and didn't want to confuse him, but it just
seemed right.  It was no longer a case of my being in love, WE were in
love.  I couldn't remember anything else before we both were woken up.

CHAPTER 10: WHAT A BOY FEELS IS REAL

"Man, I can't even trust my brother to tell me when my best friend is
here, and already, he is putting him down for a nap.  I wanted to help
take care of the Mongolian stomach flu patient, too you know."  Wayne
was in the door, talking what seemed like a foreign language, since he
was waking us up.
Well, at least we weren't snuggled up.  Wayne knew that was normal for
us at night, as I babied him since the first time he pulled himself to me
when he asked if he could sleep with me, as Stevie did get scared easily.
"Let's go to the swimming hole, boys.  It is quite swollen from last
night's rain."  I said, as they hastily picked up their towels, and
Stevie said that his swim trunks were underneath his jeans.  Wayne
volunteered that he had made the same plan with Stevie.  I made sure I
had the money, and off we went.
The water was a bit warmer than normal, since runoff summer rainwater
filled the hole.  We played like crazy, splashing, dunking, and being
dunked.  Stevie would grab me around the neck at every chance, like he
was playing, but his eyes indicated what such cuddles meant.
Waiting until we were about to swim out from the storm drain opening, he
faced me, put his arms around my neck, and whispered, "I need to talk to
you in private.  While Wayne is not looking, let's go inside, and I can
tell you something, hopefully before he follows us in."
We walked inside the drain, quietly, to avoid being noticed.  About 20
feet inside, he stopped and faced me.
"What is so important it could not wait?"  I asked.
His mouth moved up to mine and locked lips with me.  I felt such beauty
in the kiss, and although starting to get erect, I did not, for our love
was still pure, with or without a sexual element.
"I love you."  Stevie said.
"I already knew that.  I love you too."  I said.
"Look!"  Stevie said, as he pushed his crotch high into the air,
revealing the outline of a 12-year-old hairless stiffy.
"I know that happens to you when we kiss.  My dad already talked to me
about being horny when you fall in love, and I know you want sex.  So, I
want you to take my body and have fun with it.  I don't want to have you
to get frustrated, the same way Dad told me he expects me to do later, so
I don't get a girl pregnant, or take her cherry."  Stevie could not be
accused of being selfish.
"Oh, Stevie, I love you, too, but the timing has to be right, and I want
to tell you some other things, too.  Can you wait until tonight so we can
talk about it more?"
"I sure can, loving brother.  I can't wait to let you get pleased by
me.  You will have to show me what to do."  Stevie volunteered.
I swatted his wet ass cheeks with my hand, and we left to the hole, hand
in hand.  There was only one thing left to do, tonight.
The mental burden on me was heavy, and I could not get into any more
swimming.  I hurried the boys to put on their pants, as I had a surprise
for them.  I told them to follow me, as I climbed the hill to the
restaurant parking lot  overlooking the swimming hole.
"Let's get a sundae, boys!"  I hollered, as 2 giggly, wide eyed boys
sat at the ice cream counter and ordered the most lavish thing they had.
I think I never had seen more grateful eyes on me, except when I first
kissed Stevie earlier that afternoon.
As I paid for the ice cream, the cahier said, "I bet you boys appreciate
your older brother buying you ice cream.  It's nice that he shares,
probably has a job and is good to you cuz he can be."
"Yes, he is.  WE like OUR brother."  Said Stevie.  He and Wayne just
smiled at me, but Stevie's eyes caught mine, and I swear they locked
glances like our lips locked before.
The evening was rather uneventful.  Dad cooked his regular stuff.  We
watched television shows in my room, with Stevie laying in front of me on
my bed, with his butt locked into my crotch.  Every now and then, he
moved to verify that I was still hard.  We would not dare snuggle till
lights out, though.  Wayne was unaware that anything had changed.  As
unaffectionate as he had been, he had not gotten jealous.  I was not
going to complicate things with suspicions, not right now.  It would be
better for him to see me have sex with a boy than for him to catch me in
love with one.
Really, Stevie and Wayne were quite used to the routine at our house.  If
anyone stayed up past about 9 or so, they had to be quiet, in
consideration for Dad or anyone else who wanted to rest.  I was one of
those who did not stay up late on nights that I did not work.
Stevie was the first one to suggest us going to sleep, after Star Trek
went off.  Wayne's sleepy look suggested he agreed.  Wayne would not
think anything odd about our arrangement.  We never did pull the beds
apart from Stevie's last visit, and Stevie was already sandwiched in
between us.  He sure played it up good, as if he was wedged in the crack
between the two beds, and I did little to make it seem otherwise.  I was
on the edge of mine, close to where it touched Wayne's bed.
"Eddie, let me in your bed, where there is room.  I don't want to fall
in the crack between the beds."  It did not matter for Stevie to say
this for Wayne's benefit, as he was fast asleep.
I opened the covers and let his warm body up against mine.  This is a
moment I was long waiting for, but at the same time, dreading.  Today's
events made me feel that way.  As Stevie got close to me, I put a finger
on his lips, and began to suggest through a low whisper: "Stevie, I love
you.  I want us to snuggle and kiss and be in love.  But, listen.  Wayne
and I only ever get to stay up past my Dad's bedtime by whispering,
unless we want to get caught.  Promise me you will whisper.  It is safer,
and much more exiting, too."
"I think I know what you mean.  I love you too.  I'm gonna give you a
big kiss, but what should I do with your thing here?"
If it weren't for Stevie's locking his lips with mine, and slipping his
tongue inside my mouth, I would have noticed his hand on my hard cock
over my shorts immediately.  Man, I had to think fast.  I was going to
risk breaking a heart with my answer, and I simply had to pick my words
wisely.
"Stevie, did you remember when your Dad talked to you about sex, and he
said the timing had to be right, even when two people love each other?"
"Of course.  I want this so bad for you.  You are 16, and have a lot
more feeling to get satisfied than I do.  You can do with me what you
want. So, tell me what to do."
"Stevie, the timing isn't right.  And you don't have any less feeling
waiting inside you for sex than I do.  Soon, I will show you what I mean,
but it cannot be now.  Really, there is too much risk.  If I promise you
it will be soon, will you believe me, and be okay with it?"
"I love you so much.  Of course I do."
We continued to lock lips and to swap tongues, and I taught him how to
kiss with passion, and I told him I enjoyed his little tongue, and
wouldn't give him mine unless he just demanded it.  His eagerness to
please made him comply, and I simply felt him fall asleep after so much
kissing.  I kissed his head to verify his being asleep, and I gently let
go of him.
I could not bear the feeling of knowing that this boy wanted to have sex
only to please me.  This was way too soon, and way too imbalanced.  I
could not blame Stevie, for he only just now could reveal his love to
me.  I simply could not exploit him for my own benefit, though.
My erection had subsided and my heart became heavy.  It was time to do
the only thing I knew to do.  I climbed down the stairs, and walked into
the living room, and stared out the window at the starry skies and
contemplated having been in awe at them alone 2 days ago, but having
conquered even them by going beyond their limits and into the realms of
time.  I hurriedly left the first floor for the basement.  No time had
elapsed since I left Stevie sound asleep, and I felt quite safe getting
away from him long enough to keep him from stopping me.
With enough tears rolling down my face, I stepped into the cubicle in the
cellar.  I was going to go back to December 1.  I was ready to alter the
fact that I had chosen to share a room with Wayne, and undo the sleeping
arrangements that brought Stevie close to me. I could do this by choosing
the room in the back of the second floor.  It was just big enough for my
bed, my computer desk, with the big closet it offered for clothes, and
me.  I needed nothing else.  No boy was going to come to love me and feel
obligated to have sex with me.  I hastily grabbed December 1 and
September 1, or the cherry seeds in each calendar, and began to place
them into the slots for the time travel mode, and stepped into the boot
prints.
The lights began to blink on the dots that represented each pant pocket I
would put the seeds in, once I arrived at December 1.  I was ready to go
so far on the other side of yesterday that I would undo all of this
damage to that young boy's heart.  It seemed quite obvious that
Vierseitig was not even going to stop me.  All lights were on go-ahead
mode.
Nothing happened.
"Fear-sighting is not going to stop you, but I am!"  A small voice
cried out above the sound of silence in the sleeping house.
I supposed so many times in the last 2 days that I had hurt Stevie by
being stupid, and I was wrong, with the exception for now.  The look of a
very distraught boy was evident.  I had only my sense of rightness to
appeal to, as I sought to correct him.
"Look,  you are not old enough to know anything better than I do.  I've
been your older brother for some time now for a reason.  Besides, his
name is `Vierseitig.'  It is German, for 4-sided.  And just how do you
know of him?"
Stevie lunged toward me.  His tears brought out the utter frustration in
him, and he pounded his little fists on my chest as he blurted out heaven
and earth shaking things between sobs.
"You have a lot to learn.  My mom doesn't know more than my dad and my
dad don't know more than my mom.  When either one of them thinks they
know it all, they fight until they see they both have things to learn as
they continue to love each other."
"You aren't smart enough to figure it out.  You want to keep me from
loving you by keeping us from sleeping in the same bed for the first
time.  I've loved you too long for that to work.  I couldn't have been
more than eight when I knew I loved you, and you loved me."
"You don't think clearly, do you?  Maybe that's what I love about
you.  Still, I'm gonna tell you like it is.  When we walked naked in
that storm drain early in the summer, with our hard dicks out, two things
had to be obvious: I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE ME, TOO!"  Those last few words
were very forceful.
"Yeah, I love myself enough to have wanted you to reach down and stroke
my little cock and have you suck on it like you do Wayne's.  He told me
how you did this because you loved him.  I know he don't love you back.
But how can you think I want to find out what it's like to please you
and not be pleased myself?  You have been so blind."
"The fourth dimension master came to me in my sleep, and explained it
all to me in a dream that seemed to last all night.  But I guess being a
master of time, or whatever he is, he don't need to take more than a
minute to let me know everything I need to know. There is a reason I am
stopping you in his place.  It is because I love you."
I listened to the wisdom of a 12-year-old boy for the first time.  As he
saw the resistance melt from my face, he smiled through his tears, which
were replaced a few minutes ago with his anger at me.  I knelt before him
and cried like a baby as he held my head.
"You know, it's time you stopped that and kissed me." He said.  I
jumped to my feet, and he reached up to brush a tear from my eye as I
bent down to give him a long passionate kiss.  His hands freely wondered
my body, including my cock and ass cheeks.  I loved to have it all
fondled, and he seemed to know it.
I put my hand on his little boymeat and dropped his shorts so I could get
at his beautiful body.  But, I had to stop.
"Do you know all about this time traveling cube?"  I asked.
"You got me so horny, and you gotta ask that now?  I told you the Vier
-sight ig dude told me everything."  Stevie objected.
"I'm gonna make love to you, and I'm not going to make you wait.  But
tell me, why didn't the light show up on the head of the human to
indicate I couldn't go on?"
"The fourth dimension master was not going to use his power to stop you,
after I told him the power of love was stronger than what he had.  I
guess he agreed and told me to wake up, and come down here and stop
you."
I looked over Stevie's shoulder and saw Viersieig's image.  It became
apparent to me at that point, that even Dimension Masters smile. With
that, he was gone, leaving Stevie and me alone.
"Well, little man, where do you want to go in time?  You are my equal,
and always have been.  Now, you are a time traveler, too, knowing as much
as I know."
"Just lift the seed for September one and put it into the travel box.
Time is going to stand still for a while."

CHAPTER 11: LOVE HAS NO MERCY

I suppose Stevie knew what he was saying, for my watch stopped when I did
it.  He took me by the hand as he took his shorts in his hand, and led me
up the stairs.  We walked out the front door of the house, and cars on
the highway were dead still.  Time indeed stood still, except for us.  My
little man was master of time, and he was going to be master of my body,
in a way that pleased him to please both himself and me.
Stevie picked up the radio on the front porch, which had a tape deck.
"What is that for?"  I asked him.
"You will see.  This has to be right."
I don't think he could have thought of anything sexier that to lead me
to the swimming hole, with me following his naked sexy butt.  Noone
existed but us, until we said they could.
The night was hot, and we stopped by the water and lay down and locked
arms and lips, rolling on the grass, with us both grabbing for each
other's cocks, him following my lead as I probed his ass crack with my
hand, cupped his balls, and rubbed that stiff meat.
"Stevie, I love you.  I want to make love to you"
"No, I want to make you feel good first!"
"I tell you what.  I will show you what do, and how good it feels.  If
you still want to, you can do what I do, okay?"
"Mmm" He said, as I began to kiss my way down his body, lingering on
his neck, sucking on his earlobes.  I flicked his nipples with my tongue,
and rolled him over. My hand stayed on his boydick as I worked on the
erotic way to bring him off.  I kissed my way down his back, skipping his
butt and landing my tongue on his thighs.
I worked my way up his butt cheeks with my mouth, which had began to suck
on those pretty bare mounds of flesh.  That is when I decided to part
those cheeks and probe my finger in that crack.  He groaned with delight
as I flickered my tongue across that anus with each swoop of my tongue.
I still did not do more than lightly massage his tiny pecker as I
pleasured his body.
Spreading his legs, his balls were next to go into my mouth.  Jerking him
softly, his body was writhing in utter pleasure.  I quickly swung my head
underneath his ball sack, as I got too exited to leave his penis
unattended to.  As soon as my mouth found it, he grabbed both of my legs
with is hands, and put his head into my waiting crotch.
A handful of bobs of my mouth as my fingers manipulated his balls and ass
had him pumping my mouth with his meat before his tongue barely landed on
my dick.  It was time to show him what sex was for, as I put that thing
in between my teeth and cheek, and applied all the suction I could
manage, and I saw them hips rock back and forth, but sideways as he
hummed out his pleasure through his lips and onto my cock.
"Stop for a minute little lover, and come up here."  He quickly turned
around, but replaced his hot mouth on my dick with his soft hand.
"What you just had is called an orgasm.  All boys and men, girls and
women can have them.  The only difference, is when you make sperm, your
body shoots them out in semen when you have them.''
"Eddie, I want you to have an orgasm, and your sperm to shoot out.  What
do I have to do?"
"Lover, just do what you feel best, and watch me as I shoot it.  It is
called coming.  I'll tell you more about it after you see it."
"Well, something has to happen first."  He said, as he turned the tape
deck on.
Very slow music began to play.  I heard the soft rock singer sing "Hold
on to the night. Hold on to the memory..." and I just felt as If nothing
could be more special.
Stevie went back to sucking on my cock, and I asked him as I fondled his
boymeat and pressed it to my lips if I could suck him again.  He hummed
an umm-hmm into my cock and kept sucking.
We lay there and 69ed until I pulled my penis out of his mouth and jerked
my cum out of it in one stroke, but about 10 long spurts.  I was quite
sure to be deep sucking his little wiener when this happened, so that the
reaction would be two for one.
"Wow!  That is sooooo-mmmmmm! he groaned."
He breathed hard onto my legs and fell off of me.  He thought nothing
about placing his hand on my cum coated dick as he pushed his tiny tongue
into my mouth.  I lifted his hand and told him about the first time I
tasted my buddy Greg's cum, and how it tasted.  I licked some of it off
his hand, and he did the same.
"This tastes salty, like potato chips, but it's creamy.  I like it.
Can I swallow it like you do for Wayne?"
"I'd be a fool for not letting you make love to me like you want,
little man."  I looked back at my watch, and it showed 9:10 as the time
we stopped time to come out here to make love.
Stevie wiped the cum off of my dick with his tongue.  This time I led him
by the hand to the house, sat him on the couch, and told him to wait.
I returned with the Vaseline from the medicine cabinet.  I smeared some
on his cocklet, and lay down in front of him, and told him about the time
Wayne tried to penetrate me.  He was unable due to the thick ring of skin
around the base of his cock head and getting too exited in trying.
Stevie would be able to.
Without hesitancy, he pointed his wiener toward my hole, and I helped
guide him in.  The feeling was divine as he stimulated my hole with his
meat.  He expertly grabbed my cock with a hand lubed with spit, and
rubbed on it.
Stevie continued to jerk, faster even as his humping brought him to the
third orgasm of the night.  He withdrew, but not until deeply kissing me
as he had his boyorgasm, moaning into my mouth.  He lowered his lips to
my dick, and swallowed as I jetted cum, brought on by his hot kiss as he
made love to me.
"Do you want to keep time still for a while?"  I asked.
"No, I want to go put things back, and you and I can sleep in real
time.  Didn`t you hear my love song telling you to hold onto the night?
You don`t have to make time stand still to do that."
We went back to the basement, putting things back, and put on our shorts
before climbing the stairs.  Slipping into the covers, we pushed our
shorts down, and fully cuddled.  I had a confession to make.
"I went clear to the other side of yesterday for your love, but you made
time stand still to teach me how to gain it.  And I don't mean when you
took me outside.   I love you, little man."  Tears were past us.
"Time always stood still for me too, every time we looked at each
other.  We don't need a time machine to make that happen."
"That may be true, but I never did figure out how it was that a 3-foot
cubed space made up four dimensions."  I said, not expecting any answer.
"You are so silly.  The fourth dimension is love.  You never could have
done this if you didn't love me."
My little teacher just yawned and fell asleep.