Date: Tue, 19 Aug 2008 23:09:17 +0100
From: Jonas Henley <jonas_henley@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Sweetwater Boys, Chapter 02

Sweetwater Boys
by Jonas Henley

Chapter 2
The Lightness of Achieving Twelve


January 1995

Another month passed by and the three friends were as thick as ever.
Andrew's 12th birthday was fast approaching, and all three were looking
forward to the party. A few other boys were also invited, and there was
going to be a spend-the-night party afterward.

The day came and there were 11 boys at the party, 7 of whom would be
spending the night. Andrew answered the door when Bobby and Paul arrived
together, having met up and ridden their bikes from Paul's house.

"Hey Andrew! Happy Birthday, dude!" Bobby called out loud, and then leaned
in and said much more quietly, "Man, have I ever got a birthday present for
you! You're gonna bust a nut!" (Bust a nut was one of the playground
phrases that the three of them had finally figured out the meaning of after
much consternation.)

Andrew looked at Paul and raised his eyebrows.

"Don't ask me. He won't tell me,"  Paul added, as he came in the door.

"Well, all right. I guess you can put it with the others on the kitchen
table."

"Oh, no, no, no. Can't do that."  Bobby said as he winked at Andrew.

Andrew just smiled, going along with the secrecy and shrugged saying, "OK,
in that case, maybe you should put it in my room."

"Right-O," said Bobby, and he took off up the stairs, passing Andrew's mom
on her way down.

"Hey, Mrs. Tyson! Just putting my stuff upstairs."

"Hello, Bobby. You guys are sleeping downstairs, dear."

Bobby stopped in his tracks. He had a slightly hung face, and the
disappointment was evident. "Downstairs? You mean in the living room?"

"No. All the way downstairs. Surprise! We finally finished the basement.
It's a game room now, and big enough to hold 7 rowdy boys all night."

Bobby's face lit up. "NO WAY! That's so awesome, Mrs. Tyson! All right! Can
we stay up all night?"

"It's Friday, and it's a birthday. I don't see why not."

"Yahoo!!!"  Bobby yelled.

Mrs. Tyson smiled and said, "Well, as long as you aren't THAT loud, we
won't even hear you guys, or have to come downstairs."

"No, no, you don't have to do that Mrs. Tyson," Bobby said, a little too
eagerly. But Mrs. Tyson didn't read anything into it. After all, Bobby
himself was only a month away from 12, though he didn't look as developed
as Andrew, or for that matter Lincoln or Kyle, two other 12 year olds just
now being let in the house by Andrew.

Lincoln was a tall, good looking black boy who, much to Paul's later
chagrin, wouldn't be staying overnight. His family had to go on a trip
early the next morning. The other boy, though, was staying. Kyle played
football for the middle school and though not quite as tall as Andrew, he
was more muscular. Bobby ran back down the steps and ran up to Andrew,
five-slapping Kyle's hand on the way.

"What's up Bobby?"  Kyle asked him.

"Hey Kyle," Bobby briefly replied before turning on Andrew and exclaiming,
"Dude! How come you didn't tell us your parents were finally doing the
whole rec room thing?"

"You got a rec room now?"  Kyle interjected.

"Yeah," Andrew smiled and said. "It's pretty sweet. And big too. We can
stay up all night and play pool or air hockey or watch movies. Sweet, huh?
I didn't say anything because I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Super-duper sweet! Show it to us! I'll leave your present down there."
Bobby was definitely excited about tonight.

"What did you get him?" Kyle asked as they headed to the stairwell to the
basement.

"He wont say,"  Andrew called back up.

But Bobby just smiled and nodded and said, "Oh, you just gotta wait, too.
You're gonna like it, though."

Andrew shook his head and Kyle laughed as the three headed downstairs. Two
other boys, Ronnie Gaston, another 12 year old who was staying, and Byron
Keller, who wasn't staying, went with them.

"Fucking sweet!"  Byron exclaimed.  "I wish I could stay."

"He's right," Bobby added. "I bet there's gonna be a bunch of other guys
that wished they were staying, Andrew."

"How many are?" asked Kyle as he walked over to the pool table and ran his
hand over the green felt in admiration.

"Just seven. I think eleven guys are coming." Andrew said, and the three
boys headed back up to the party.

The beginning of the party was upstairs. Andrew's mother and father had
decided to let the boys alone throughout most the evening, except to go
down and fetch each boy that was not staying as it was time for him to go
home. Therefore, they decided to have the cake and ice cream first upstairs
and then later would get some pizzas for the boys to take downstairs.

The ice cream was more along the lines of super sundaes. There were at
least 8 kinds of ice cream that Mr. Tyson had picked up at Baskin-Robbins,
along with various syrups, nuts, candy toppings, and whipped cream. It was
a hit and the boys were having a blast. The Tysons weren't too worried
about anybody getting sick, as 11 and 12 year old boys can eat pretty much
anything.

Ronnie Gaston's little brother Mikey, who was the youngest at the party and
almost exactly one year younger than Ronnie, managed to combine the most
different types of ice cream at 6 flavors. Jason Bonner, who everybody
called Boner (though usually only when the rents weren't around), was next
with 5 flavors, but he managed more toppings than Mikey.

The gifts were to come next. They had been moved to the living room when
Mr. Tyson had brought the ice cream. Everyone headed in to the room and Mr.
Tyson called Andrew aside as all the boys left behind the delicious but
sticky mess in the kitchen.

"Are you enjoying the party, Andrew?"

"Yeah, dad! You guys are the greatest. Thanks!" and he gave his dad a big
hug.

His dad returned it and said, "Good, I'm glad. Just remember that in a few
minutes."

"Huh?"  Andrew said, backing up.

"Well, it's not really a birthday without what comes next."

At first Andrew looked at his father with a confused look. Then his eyes
lit up, "Oh yeah! The presents!"

Andrew hurried off to living room and didn't hear his dad say, more to
himself, "Well, before that, actually."

As Andrew came into the living room, he paused. Every one of the boys had a
mischievous grin on his face and was twirling a rubber band around on his
finger. He looked confused at his mother who just smiled and shrugged and
handed another rubber band to his father as he came in around Andrew, who
was still stopped just inside the entry.

"Hey, uh, what's with the rubber bands?"

"Well," started his father, "remember two months ago when you got in
trouble at school for popping Jason with the rubber band?"

"Yeah, that was funny," Andrew said, remembering Boner's reaction. "You
should have seen him jump and yell. The teacher was so mad."

His father nodded and said, "Yes, well, I'm glad you thought it was funny;
then you're really going to like this next part. Do you remember what your
excuse was? - that `it didn't really hurt any'?"

"Um, what does this have to do with my presents?" Andrew was growing a
little uneasy.

"Oh the presents are later, dear,"  his mother said.

"Yeah, boy!" Yelled out Ronnie in an enthusiastic counter to Andrew's
unease. The affirmations were picked up by a chorus of boys.

"So, um, what is this about?"

"Well what this is about, is your mom and I were trying to come up with an
imaginative way to give you your birthday spankings . . ."

Andrew smiled uneasily and started backing away to the door, understanding
everything when he heard Boner jump in with, "So I gave them this idea!"

"That's right," his dad added. "Eleven boys, eleven rubber bands. Your mom
makes 12, and I get to give you one to grow on."

Andrew gave a short grunt of semi-understanding, all the while still
smiling and backing out the door.

"Don't let him get away!" one of the boys yelled, and the chase was on. The
boys scattered in all directions through the house with Andrew twisting and
turning to avoid the mass chasing him.

"Owww!!"  Andrew's still somewhat high voice was heard. Number one.

"Hey guys," another voice, and this voice in an obvious struggle with
pubescence, announced to the others who didn't witness the first hit,
"Carlee got him GOOD!"

Carlee was the favored shorthand for Carlson Lee, one of the older of the
group, and the biggest, already looking more like 13 than 12.

Another shout of surprise from the sting of a second rubber band followed
this one, and Bobby's voice could be heard; "Got him!!!"

"What? No, wai- OW!, Noo!! OWW!!" Number three and four caught him trying
to round the corner back into in the kitchen. Lincoln Simmons and Alfaro
Cortez, the next two oldest boys, had caught him in a surprise double
attack. He continued on to the kitchen pursued by Paul with an energy
seldom seen in the younger boy. Paul was laughing like a mad man, and
Andrew too, in spite of the real effort he was expending in avoiding
another rubber band. His parents were not cheap on quality either; these
were some serious rubber bands.

He led Paul around and around the kitchen island, both boys hardly able to
give enough effort from their giggling. All the while Andrew kept up a
stream of `No's and `No don't's. He was cut off on the next go around by
Adrian Rosen, a boy about two months older than Andrew, but about the same
level of development as Paul. He was standing side by side with Mikey
Gaston, rubber bands stretched, drawn, and at the ready.

"Whooaa-oh" Andrew yelled out as he saw them and tried to turn immediately
and run the other way, but Paul was waiting and launched his rubber band
straight into his best friend's dick. Andrew went down with a laughing
owwwww and got a sting in each buttcheek as Adrian and Mikey let loose into
the inviting target.

There were still five rubber bands left out there, and Andrew felt out of
breath as he struggled to get back up. The two boys who had just got him in
the butt were high-fiving each other when they were pushed aside by Mikey's
brother, who launched a strong snap, close-up and straight into the crack
of the boy as he struggled up. It struck on the underside of his butt and
the full force of it went mostly into one cheek. "Owww! Ronnie! That one
hurt!"

"I thought you said they didn't hurt!"

Andrew looked up over the island to see who the sound of this higher voice
belonged to. It was Jason, aka Boner, and he was dangling two rubber bands
from his hands. "Your mom said I could have hers cause she was going to
clean up the ice cream."

"Oh god,"  was all Andrew could reply.

"That means you boys have to get out of the kitchen!" his mom added from
the kitchen table where she was cleaning up amidst hooting and hollering
boys. Andrew didn't waste another second but darted away from the kitchen
and away from Jason with his two rubber bands and headed for the back door.

He almost made it when Byron Keller, always surprisingly aggressive for an
11 year old, though he easily looked more like 12 himself, got him in the
left thigh with rubber band number 9.

"OWwwuhh."

"He's out the back door!" Byron yelled to the others in the house as Andrew
made a bid for safety in the back yard. He ran down the back steps and
practically right into Kyle Brooks.

"Hands up, Tyson,"  the slightly older, and definitely better fit boy said.

Andrew's hands immediately went to cover his crotch. He was half smiling
and shaking his head no. "No way! Come on, Kyle, I've already been shot by
like a dozen of those."

"Hands up, Andrew, or I just step closer." With this he actually took a
half step closer. "Come on, try your luck; I might miss from this
distance."

Andrew gave a half-laugh.  "Yeah, right. I'm not stupid, Kyle."

Kyle took another half step forward. "Come on, old friend. I can just have
everybody else hold you down. You're parents are too busy cleaning up to
help you." He finished with yet another half step.

Andrew started to take a half step back, but Kyle warned him that if he
moved he would have everybody else hold him down. Kyle was still aiming at
Andrew's now-12-year-old crotch, though Andrew was still keeping his hands
over it. The cries of assent from some of the boys who had come out of the
backdoor let him know that Kyle would be able to do exactly as he
threatened. Andrew moved his foot that had tried to help him flee right
back to where it was before Kyle threatened him. Still he kept both hands
in front of the target.

"Come on, Andrew. We haven't got all night. I'm hungry for some pizza."
Another half step and he was getting dangerously close. Andrew could swear
the boy was even stretching the heavy duty rubber back even farther. He was
still thinking about it, but that was costing him too much, Kyle had moved
yet another half step forward.

"OK! OK! You win. Just don't come any closer."

"Then get those hands up over your hand."

Andrew very slowly, very cautiously and fearfully began to move his hands
away from his crotch and out to his sides. As he did so a cheer went up
from the other boys who had filed out around him and Kyle to watch the
action.

Andrew continued moving his hands upward, trying to will himself to not
move. They were about shoulder height and continuing upward when he began
begging, "Come on, Kyle, don't do this. Kyle! Kyle, are you listening?
Don't hit me in my nu---"

He never got to complete the sentence. He crumpled, thankful at least that
he was wearing jeans. Still it hurt. A lot. The rest of the boys cheered.
What else would you expect? Give a bunch of boys on the cusp of puberty a
bunch of rubber bands and set them loose, and someone, at least eventually,
is going to go for the nuts. Unfortunately for Andrew, it was his one
friend who played football and had a bit of the rambunctious streak in him.
You could maybe at some times call it a mean streak, but it wasn't quite
that bad. For a split second, Andrew would have disagreed.

But now as he rolled on to his back, still half moaning and watching his
friends enjoying themselves, he said, "Ohhhhhh, please, tell me that was
the last one."

"I think that was 10,"  he heard Alfaro Cortez say.

"Oh, it was." Byron added, "There's still three more out. Your dad's got
one of those."

"And I think Boner has the other two," Ronnie said.

"Oh god! Not Boner! And why two? What was my mom thinking?" Andrew had
forgotten that small but very important and potentially painful fact. He
saw Alfaro offer him a hand to help him up and he took it.

"Hey boys! The pizza will be here in another ten minutes." James Tyson
called out and then followed his own voice into the backyard. "Is my son
still alive?"

"Yeah, no thanks to you and mom."  Andrew said, though good naturedly.

Mr. Tucker then asked,  "So how many are left out there?"

"Oh, you had to ask, dad?"

"I still got two, Mr. Tucker," Jason said as he stepped forward.

"Oh right, Sylvia gave you hers. Well, let's wrap this up, boys. OK, Jason,
how do you want to give it to him?"

"Dad!"

"Fair's fair Andrew, besides, you said it didn't hurt, remember?"

In the end Andrew had to go along with everything. And that's just where he
got it, too, in the end. The back end. He had to lean up against the back
wall of the house and let Boner take his shots. At least his dad didn't let
Jason get as close as Kyle had. Still, by the time he was done, there were
two more OW!!'s hollered out and a nice sudden sting in each buttock.

Andrew was rubbing his backside, walking away from the wall to the cheers
of all the boys when he heard his dad ask him; "Are you ready for my rubber
band?"

The boys really started to hoot and holler now. But Andrew knew the answer
to that one, "No way! Come on, Dad!"

"OK, your loss," was all the response Andrew got as his dad started to walk
away. Something was up. His dad never gave in this easy.

"Wait. . . ."

James Tyson turned around.  "You do want it?"

Something was definitely up, the boys were all yelling, "Give it to him, Mr
Tyson", but all Andrew could get out was, "Ummm . . . . ."

"Well, either you do or don't. I have to get in there to pay the pizza boy
when he comes."

"Uh," he knew he was going to regret this. He knew his dad was just baiting
him for something. Whatever it was, though, he would live. So he decided to
bite. That's just the way Andrew was. "OK, You win. I want it."

The boys were really cheering now, and Andrew watched with fear and
trepidation as his dad pulled out the rubber band, and the boys first
hushed and then went wild. Andrew hadn't even noticed THAT in his father's
pocket, but there it was. A big roll of money, a really big roll of money,
with his dad's rubber band wrapped around it.

"You sure you want it?"

"Yes, sir!!" Andrew ran into his father's arms and gave him a super big
hug. He had already been told that the party and the rec room were all the
presents he was going to get from his parents. This unexpected surprise
thrilled the boy.

"It's yours. You can spend it however you like, on whatever you like."
There was a chorus of "Wow"s, "Oh man!"s, "Awesome!!"s, and even a "Your
dad is the coolest!" before Mr. Tyson turned and said, "Well, there's the
doorbell. That must be the pizza, boys. You guys come on in if you're
hungry."

Yeah, like they wouldn't be hungry. Boys.

For the next hour the boys ate pizza, talked loudly and watched as Andrew
opened all of his presents. He really reaped some major funnage on this
birthday. The money roll was the biggest hit, though. When he unrolled it
and counted it all, it came out to 12 twenties, 12 tens, 12 fives, and 12
ones, and a hundred dollar bill "to grow on," his dad said. All his and his
alone. $532 to do with however and whatever he wanted. Maybe he would get
that leather jacket. Maybe a new bike. Maybe just save it and parcel it out
slowly. It wasn't like allowance money, though. He didn't have to account
for this. The ramifications were too big even for a well-off 12 year old
kid, rich even, relative to those Indian Spring kids they had to go to
school with now. This was Sweetwater, though, so even though the money was
a big deal, most of the boys were able to soon let it pass out of their
heads. Not before a few comments, however.

"You could buy a hooker and get laid with that, dude." This came out of
Byron's mouth, though Ronnie gave a good laugh. Andrew quickly looked
around for his parents, who thankfully weren't in the room. He would not
have thought of that on his own. He still wasn't sure what to think about
it, or how to respond. So he didn't.

At this point Bobby leaned over and said, "Well my present isn't that nice,
but I think you'll get a lot of use out of it."

Andrew was hooked.  "Come on Bobby, what is it?"

"Later."  was all Bobby would say.

The boys all went downstairs at this point, which was good for Mr. and Mrs.
Tyson, who were starting to get worn out by so many boys. They sure were
glad they got that rec room redone. The boys played pool and air hockey,
ate more of the pizza, played some Playstation, including the new games
that Adrian and Paul had given Andrew. Gradually the boys not staying began
to drop out and leave. Carlson was first, after being undefeated in 8
straight air hockey games. He said his husky goodbye to the boys around 8
pm.

Byron left shortly after him. Alfaro's older brother came at 8:20pm and
gave Jason (Boner) a ride home while he was at it. Lincoln's mom had called
a bit earlier to say that she was late getting out of a meeting and
couldn't reach his dad, so it looked like the handsome black boy would be
staying a bit longer.

This delay made Bobby pretty happy. He was waiting until all the boys were
leaving to bring out his present, but that was just because he didn't want
Andrew's parents coming downstairs, which they wouldn't after the last of
the non-staying boys were gone. But with only one boy left . . . that still
diminished the risk considerably. Plus it was Lincoln, and maybe, just
maybe . . . .

So Bobby broke out the present.

"Finally!" one of the boys said. They had all gathered around on the
sleeping bags, tired from many games, and the evening in general, except
for Ronnie and Paul, who were still playing a game of pool. Paul was doing
better than Ronnie had expected, since he had read up on the geometry
behind the dynamics of pool. But even with that, Ronnie had the older boy
advantage, an older boy that even at the tender age of 12 had probably hung
out in a few pool bars, waiting for his dad to down a few. Paul struggled
just to make it look good.

"What is it?"  asked Mikey when he saw the wrapped present.

"Feels, kind of like a magazine," Andrew said as he took the present from a
broadly smiling Bobby and began to tear at the wrapping.

"Whoa!!! It's a nudey magazine!" Lincoln threw out as he saw the large and
well-breasted front cover model come into view.

That caught Ronnie's attention, and Paul's as well. Both boys stopped at
their game to see the magazine. As he looked down at just the front cover,
Ronnie unconsciously gripped the pool stick even harder in his hands,
rubbing his hands around it some. "Oh crap, fuckin' sweeet," he said under
his breath.

"A nude magazine with girls." Mikey said, as though anybody needed
clarification.

"Of course with girls, moron!" Bobby said. "Why would there be guys in it?
There's two of them, Andrew. Happy Birthday!"

Andrew moved the top magazine back, and sure enough there was another
there. The top was the new January issue of Playboy and underneath was a
special, extra large Girls of Winter issue.

"Oh wow! Awesome! Bobby, how did you . . ." Andrew began, amazed at what he
was seeing. Amazed and already rapidly inflating at the prospect of
tomorrow's private time.

"Uh-uh. A Man has to have some secret sources."  Bobby cut him off.

"A Man, right. Come on, Andrew, rip the plastic wrap off those babies and
pass them around," Kyle called out, second by a chorus of eager boys.

This was what Bobby had secretly hoped for, a bunch of eager, and not too
shy about it, boys sitting around with some girlie mags. It was interesting
enough to Bobby to have seen his two best friends in all their glory, and
hard at that; but he had an interest in seeing more. It truly was just a
natural curiosity, but a hyper one.

Andrew just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Sure. Why not?" He smiled and
started opening the plastic up. He wasn't shy about his gift, might as well
let his friends enjoy it, too.

As Andrew started ripping into the plastic, Kyle surprised them all by
saying, "Well there's no way I'm gonna look at these and only just WANT to
jerk off." He immediately pulled his shirt off over his head and then asked
Andrew, "You sure your parents aren't gonna come down here?"

"Nah, they won't bug us anymore, why?" he responded, forgetting that
Lincoln's parents still had to pick him up.

"Cause, why do you think? I'm gonna get ready to look at some pussy and
think about it with my right hand" making a jerking motion with his right
hand to punctuate this statement before both hands went for the button and
zipper on his pants.

Bobby looked at the hands on Kyle's zipper and thought that this would get
interesting after all. He didn't know, as none of them did, that Kyle was
used to being naked with boys in the showers after football practice and,
once or twice, a bunch of them had even jerked off together to see who
could shoot the most, the farthest, etc.

Paul was also transfixed as he watched the beginning jock peel both pants
and white briefs down his hips, down his legs, and then off his feet, half
straightening to do this, his hardening 12 year old cock bobbing a little
more as he did so. He stood up and looked around, while everyone else made
mental notes of comparison to the already curly line of incipient hairs
across the root of his penis which was still slowly making its way upward.
Bobby reckoned that Kyle was at least an inch longer than his own. The boy
looked as though he was quite well endowed - over 4 inches at 12 years of
age. He really was going to get all the girls. He already had the great
looks, the fitness, the sports stardom (probably), and the attitude. All
the rest of the boys realized that he was going to have the dick department
wrapped up as well.

"Well, I ain't putting on a show. Don't tell me you guys never jerked off
before."

The other kid in the room that had everyone wondering, and Bobby and Paul a
bit more anxiously so, was Lincoln. Was it true what the playground wisdom
said? Were black boys bigger down there? At this point Lincoln smiled big
at Kyle and just said, "You white boys do crazy shit together. My cousins
would never do this for just a picture of a girl, but it's cool. I'll join
you, Kyle."

Bobby and Paul's eyes grew wide with anticipation – though, let's face it,
at least inwardly every one of the boys except Kyle were wide-eyed with
interest, having never seen black dick before. There just weren't too many
black kids around. Sweetwater, which was more than just a little exclusive
where it could afford to be. But Lincoln's parents weren't ones to accept
social or economic pressures, and they could push back pretty well. Lincoln
inherited that sense of self worth, as well as their strength. From the
moment he received his name, there was nothing but Liberty that exuded from
him. But right now the boys were interested more in seeing what he was made
of on a bit more physical level.

Lincoln snapped open the top button of his pressed jeans and slid the
zipper down. The boxers that appeared didn't allow for any judgment of what
might be coming. Lincoln hooked his thumbs in underneath his boxers, and
more than one boy unconsciously caught his breath.

"Lincoln, honey! Your dad's here!!"

No one had heard the door open, but they heard the steps of Mrs. Tyson
follow her voice down the stairs. They could see the lower body of Andrew's
mom appear, coming down the steps, and slowly more and more of her
appearing until very shortly her face would appear and everything in the
room would be open to her view, as well. Lincoln very hurriedly pulled the
zipper up on his pants and threw the hem of his T-shirt over the still
unsnapped jeans just in time.

Poor Kyle was petrified with fear but managed at the last moment to swoop
down and grab his jeans and hold them up against his middle. It wasn't soon
enough, and Mrs. Tyson got an appreciative glance of the very handsome
hunk-to-be. She was impressed and very briefly wished she was 12 or 13
again.

"MRS TYSON!! We're getting dressed for bed down here!!!" Kyle yelled out,
not able to think of anything else to say.

"Ooops, sorry boys," she replied, decently turning around and guiltily
pushing her previous thoughts out of her head (though not out of her
subconscious mind, as the boys would have known if they could have heard
the marathon sex session that Andrew's mom and dad were about to have two
floors above them).

"Lincoln, just come along with me then; hopefully you're still dressed."

"Yes ma'am. See you guys! I wish I could stay."

At this point, Mrs Tyson turned back around and started to stay "Well,
Lincoln, if you want, we, uh . . . " and she got stuck. Kyle had turned
around to get the shirt he had tossed to the side. He was still holding the
pair of shorts up in front of his middle, only nothing was blocking the
sight of that incredible ass. And Damn what an ass! and only on a 12 year
old!! So muscular, yet so perfectly squeezable . . . Mrs Tyson almost had
to slap herself. This was a kid after all - a friend of her son's!! She
quickly turned back around and struggled to find words to finish what she
was originally trying to say. "Uh, I mean, um, we can, uh, talk to your
parents. Yes. We can talk to your parents, Lincoln, if you want to stay."

"Yeah!" She heard Bobby shout, "Talk to his parents. Come on Lincoln,
stay!"

This request was seconded and chorused by a bunch of boys, some for reasons
of friendship, some for personal perversions of curiosity. Even Mrs. Tyson
was trying to not picture the strapping young black lad now at her side,
wondering how tight and fine an ass he had. She shook her head, trying to
clear her thoughts. But she still heard Lincoln tell the other boys:

"No, I really can't; we're leaving very early to go to my grandparents for
a week. It's why my mom had to work so late, Mrs. Tyson."

"Oh that's fine dear. Come on then, your father is waiting upstairs with
James." She then called out over her shoulder without actually looking
back, "Boy's, Mr. Tyson will be down shortly with the last of the pizza and
some cokes. Don't make too big of a mess and this is the last we will be
down tonight - provided you behave."

"We will."

"Yeah, we'll behave, Mrs Tyson."

"No problem."

"Goodnight, mom!"

After a little while, Kyle was partly redressed in some gym shorts and
underwear, though having taken off his socks, and Mr. Tyson brought down
the remaining pizza, said his goodnights, and left the boys to their own
devices for the evening.

"All right," said the partly redressed Kyle to Andrew , "So NOW are we all
alone for the night?"

Even Andrew had to admire the developing muscles and chest of the boy as he
answered, "Yeah, definitely they won't be back down."

"Yeah," said Bobby, who was also admiring the half dressed football player,
"they're cool like that."

Paul just nodded in agreement before heading over to get another slice of
pizza. He wasn't so much hungry as he was unsure of how he felt about the
direction that this evening was about to take. He wondered also why Bobby
did this, though he himself had something of a clinical interest in seeing
this through. Clinical because book smarts could only take you so far, and
it would be an interesting corollary to everything he had read so far to
actually see a variety of boys his own age. He just wished that they
wouldn't have to see him and his smaller and less developed state.

Paul turned this over in his mind as he chewed a mouthful of pizza. Just
how much embarrassment was he willing to trade for an informative look at
the development of boys in general? Plus there was another kind of
curiosity brewing inside that he couldn't quite as yet identify.