Axel Chamberlain-Smith

Perfect Son:
Daddy's Perfect Lover

Part I
The Early Years: A Precocious Taste for Men

As an adult Nicholas remembered those formative years with fondness and a certain longing. He saw nothing peculiar in this. It was perfectly normal to him. Yet for this one unforgivable breech society branded him with a secret mark of shame, a giant P carved on his forehead. He could no longer be a boy, he was glad that he had become the adult male he was. As an adult, he remained a man who enjoyed the same man-boy relations he had experienced as a child. From lover of men, he became lover of boys. He became a dedicated pederast. For this passion for boys he felt not one whit of shame. In them he saw his formative self. As his relations with men when he was a boy never seemed wrong, it never occurred to him that his budding taste for pretty little boys was in any way wrong. It was not wrong when as a boy he experienced the love of men, and it was not wrong in its adult reversal. The whole situation was absurd, a cosmic joke. As an adult he simply became the man he had adored as a child. And now he sought that intense gratification of his youth in reverse. Like the men he had sex, he now desired the sexual company of pretty boys. He loved to make love to them As an adult, he found boys intoxicating and powerfully attractive. From his own experience he knew that boys even in their immaturity were often very curious about men and sex. And he knew that they could be very manipulative, as he had been. They were complicit in their own seduction and therefore were completely complicit. He felt no one twinge of guilt for this passion. He saw nothing wrong with himself or his desire to bed boys.

Nick had a long history with this taste. That history, that desire made him very comfortable with it and with the man he had become. He was accepted and understood fully those psychological aspects of his personality that comprised the mature man he was. Though he was only 28 years old, his experience with man-boy love had been both personal and satisfying. As a beautiful little boy he found himself the object of intense attention from many men. He did nothing to discourage this attention. He liked it and encouraged it. He had experienced the love of a man at the age of 8 years old. He sought it, and he liked it. From his first memories, he had felt a special attraction to men. He admired them and, he was drawn to them. He enjoyed men. He adored his father, he, and he loved insinuating himself into his father's circle of friends. As the only child of a single father, he has special access to his attentions. His father included him in many of his adult activities. Nick had been exposed to men on an intimate level at a very early age. If he adored his handsome father, he liked his friends. Given the special circumstances, he was accepted by them and treated almost as a mascot. He learned early how to ingratiate himself with his father's friends. The boy was ever curious about them, their ways, and their interactions one with another. He observed them silently with interest. And because he and his father were a unit, they had only each other, he found it easy to monopolize his affections. He could even have been thought of as spoiled but for his sweetness. Adoring his father as he did, he did everything he could to be with his father, to charm him and to please him. His reward was the singular possessiveness, the ownership of his father that he felt his due. His father was an extraordinarily handsome man. His father was a source of great pride to little Nick and he did everything to demonstrate his singular possessiveness of him. From him he had inherited a fine set of genes. His youthful beauty matched the mature handsomeness of this father. If anything he was better looking than his father, and he knew it. There's was a tight bond. Where his father was, he wanted to be. Whatever the activity he was happy to participate, to be with his father and by extension his father's male friends. He followed his father around like a happy puppy. He rode in the golf cart with him, he had a Shirley Temple at the Nineteenth Hole with the guys. Basking in the reflected glow of his presence was where he wanted to be. He knew that there were some things he could not do with his dad. He could not go to work with him, his father had his guy things, and his father had dates. He could not touch him in a certain way that he longed to. As much as he longed to, he knew he could not. But as a good little boy he was happy that on occasion he could shower with him. His father knelt in front of him, water cascading over them, to wash his hair and scrub him down. Nick held onto his father and gazed solemnly, adoringly into his eyes. It was then that he could touch his father almost as he really longed to touch him. The laughing boy, alone with his father in the shower, alone and naked, was completely, totally happy. He wanted to keep his father solely and exclusively for himself. He fervently prayed that his father's dates would not produce a new mother. Several of his father's girlfriends tried to ingratiate themselves with him. They met a stony wall of silence. He aimed to have his father to himself. He adored is handsome father. No one would stand between them. His father in turned loved his son. His son's love for him was evident. It flattered him and, he found it very gratifying. His son was an angel and, he considered himself the luckiest of fathers.

Nick's desire to co-opt his father often brought him into the company of his father's friends. The core group formed a small cadre of men who were almost as attractive as his father was. That is most of them were almost as attractive as his father. Several were not. But mainly he thought them the best looking men around. He liked being with these men, he liked their company. He became a mascot of a sort to their group. He was ever curious about them. He particularly enjoyed the mystery of their physicality, their masculinity, the hair on their arms, their beards, and their manly bodies. The differences among them fascinated him. He often stole a peak at them in the locker room. They were discrete but he was more discrete and his discretion was amply rewarded with peaks at these men in their private, unselfconscious moments. Nick knew that, as with his father, certain things were forbidden. Such curiosity about his father's friends was forbidden. But his curiosity about men outweighed what he knew was wrong. He looked and he was rewarded. He liked what he saw. He was fascinated by these men, their bodies, their muscles, their man hair, and what hung between their legs. He wanted to be like them, and he prayed that one day he would be. He had his doubts about that but, he hoped. How did they get that way? He longed to touch them, he wanted to feel their hairy chests, and to touch their pee pees. But this he knew was really forbidden. He was especially curious about their pubic hair, the hair that he did not have. He wanted touch it and to feel the hair on their chests, and between their legs. He wanted to caress their faces and, he wanted to feel their lips. He adored them for being the men they were. He wanted to be with them. He knew that because his father was his father, he could touch him. That was not forbidden, although here too he knew that there were boundaries he could not transgress. He loved to cuddle up beside his father while he watched the news or read the paper. He adored the closeness of him. He loved storms. Although he was not in the least afraid of them, he pretended to be and used that as an excuse to sleep with his dad. He was a resourceful little boy and he was a very fast learner. He learned ways to satisfy his fascination with men, including his father. His father was his lode star. He adored him. He was a god. Theirs was a tight bond. It make little Nicky proud that his father was the handsomest of men, that he was his father, and his alone. In his father he found the perfect man. If his father was a lucky father, he was a very lucky son.

Trailing his father adoringly around the golf course produced other benefits apart from the welcome the proximity to men and their world. By osmosis and then with his father's encouragement and instruction little Nick learned to swing a golf club. He was naturally graceful. For one so small he swung a wicked club. He had observed well. Correct form came naturally to him.. Nick was happy to learn golf because it brought the approbation of his father and the admiration of his father's friends. He was proud that his father was so obviously proud of him. His father gave him a set of old clubs which he had sawed down and had regripped. His father often dropped a ball for him and let him hit with him. When his father realized that the boy had a real aptitude for the game, they hit balls alone and played together, just the two of them. Nick took his father's instruction well. He was always anxious to please. They made a charming twosome, single, handsome, reserved father and stunningly beautiful, brilliantly pretty son. The boy was about as tall as his father's driver. Mitchell Perry's pride in his son was evident. He bought him real golf clothes, bright slacks and brighter polo shirts, and little spiked Oxfords. The boy wore a tiny golf cap, with a properly bent brim. He was simply edible, almost a miniature version of his father. They couldn't miss, and no one did miss dad and son.

As his aptitude for golf developed, so did the boy's love for swimming grow. His father was of little help in the swimming pool, but he did his best. He encouraged his son. He knew how much Nick enjoyed it. He tried to find quality time for time in the pool. His son eagerly anticipated these times when his father would do a bathing suit and join him in the water. In the afternoon after work Mitchell often sat by their pool while Nick frolicked in the water. With his father's limited but enthusiastic help, and, with his encouragement, Nick learned to swim. The boy soon became adept in the water. His father saw that he had brought his along as far as he could. When he could find the time to take his son to the club pool, he did. But this happened so infrequently that little Nick did not make friends with other children at the pool. Knowing how much Nick enjoyed swimming, and also knowing that the boy spent almost no time with other boys, Mitch thought that it would be a very good thing for him to take lessons and perhaps even join a swim club. Mitchell worried that his son saw very little of boys his own age. It did not seem to bother Nick but, it did worry his father. After doing a bit of investigation he called the Dolphin Swim Club and spoke to the coach of the club. Carefully Nick's father explained the circumstances, briefly told the coach about his son, about his natural grace, about his ability at golf, his eagerness to swim, and of his desire to find a happy outlet for his boy. He emphasized that he was a single father and that he adored his little boy. After a short discussion, Coach McCarthy agreed to stop by to meet Nick and his father.

Nick was as usual in the pool when Ken McCarthy arrived. Nick spied the stranger out of the corner of his eye as he cannonballed into the water. A tiny splash tried mightily to slosh over the edge of the pool onto the deck.

"Hey, Nick, we have a visitor. Come meet Mr. McCarthy."

Nick clambered out of the pool and approached the strange man who stood on the terrace with his father. He was a naturally curious little boy, especially when it came to adult men. His father whistled him over. The boy approached, towel wrapped around his pretty waist.

"Ken, this is my son Nick. As you see he does like the water and he can swim. Nick, this is Mr. McCarthy. He is Coach at the Dolphin Swim Club. I told him you were a good swimmer, and he has come over to see you swim. Maybe he will let you join the team. Why don't you show him what you can do?"

Nick reached out and gravely shook Coach's hand. "Hi. I'm not very good, my Daddy thinks I'm good at everything," he apologized. He cast his eyes up at the man whose hand he held. The man who was the object of the boy's curiosity wore a tight, white T shirt with a dolphin breaching printed on it, gym shorts and flip flops. Sunglasses sat on top of his head. There was not much that his shorts and T did not reveal. Mr. McCarthy was a big man, taller than his father. Nick did not think him as handsome as his father. He was old, but all men were old to a boy so young. All his dad's friends were old, but he liked them and they liked him. Old meant very little to him. He liked older men. The man he was being introduced to was hardly of an average sort. Nick noticed. He was very good looking. But he was very different from his father's circle of friends. He was very powerfully built. He was very fit and muscular, that was quite obvious to the boy. He was very like some of the super heroes in Nick's favorite movies, or so it seemed to him. He had short slightly curly black hair. He possessed a hyper-masculine face. He was darkly handsome. A permanent 5 o'clock shadow etched his square jaw. His upper body, was strong, well-muscled. Even though he was a big man by any standards, he was not fat. There was not an ounce of flab or loose skin on him. His upper arms looked as though he lifted weights, just like the guys on TV. He stood in front of the boy with his legs spread wide. His dark hairy legs were taut, muscular. He was very well proportioned. They matched his upper body perfectly. It was evident that they had spent endless hours doing kick board laps. Nick broke his gaze. He shyly looked down. He was mesmerized by the man's brown feet. Long dark hair sprouted from the tops of his toes. Nick was fascinated. He had never been so close to such a very different sort of man. Despite the inevitable comparison to his father, Nicky thought he was very handsome. There was more. His head came up just to the man's lower torso. The unmistakable mound in the man's gym shorts caught his rapt attention. The shorts left little to the imagination of the boy. Nicky stared straight at his crotch. He was mesmerized. He had never seen such a big mound on a man before. He wanted to touch it. And now he wanted to make the team.

"Will you come and swim with me? We have a very big pool." Both men laughed. "Daddy, maybe Mr. McCarthy will come in too? Then he can really see me swim." He wanted the man to join him in the water. He wanted to see more of him and to be closer to him. He wanted him to get into the water. The boy's agile mind was in over drive.

"Nick, Mr. McCarthy is here to see you swim, not play around. Daddy would like you to do well, and make the team. That would make Daddy happy."

The boy beamed. He said simply "OK, but I would like Mr. McCarthy to come into the pool with me. I want to see him swim too. Ii bet he is a very good swimmer." He was very firm in his desire to have Mr. McCarthy join him. He was intrigued by the masculine man who towered over him. He was dazzled by him. He wanted to climb all over him and, the pool offered a perfect opportunity for that. He glanced up at the man again. He smiled shyly. He liked the man he saw. He wanted to touch him, he knew he wanted to touch him. Most of the men he liked were like his father, tall and thin and lean. Some were fatter but, he ignored them. Mr. McCarthy was very different; he was a big man, a muscular man. Nick smiled ingratiatingly at him again and was rewarded by a bright smile in return. The man's white teeth, set off by his deep suntan, flashed. His pale blue eyes danced in the sun. He was a very attractive man and Nick wanted to touch him.

"No, Mitch, it's fine. I'd be happy to swim with Nick. You want me to come in, Nick?" The boy nodded vigorously and pulled the man' hand. "Half my life is spent in the water. I'd be glad to swim with you, Nick. I have my suit on, I seem to always to be ready to go in."

Then and there he stripped down to a dark green Speedo. When he ripped his T Shirt off, Nick little mouth went dry. He had the chest of a real swimmer. It was the chest of a breaststroker, broad, defined by long horizontal muscle bands. It was relatively flat. It was cut like a swimmer's. To the boy's amazement it was covered in thick hair, darker even than the hair on his head. His chest hair spread luxuriantly across his pecs to his armpits. Nick saw also that the man possessed a flat, taut, swimmer's torso. His stomach was tight and cut lean . It too was partially obscured by a thick coating of hair. The hair disappeared into his Speedos and reappeared again on his upper thighs. The man's pubic hair erupted from his Speedos. Nick could only imagine what the rest of him looked like. He gazed at that bulge that filled his bathing suit. The bathing suit accentuated the pronounced mound of his manhood that marked the man as a real stud. His Speedo set off his manly bulge off to perfection. He was indeed very different from Nick's Daddy's friends, and Nick was completely dazzled. He was fascinated by this very masculine man. He stared at his tight, hairy abs, and down at his muscular hairy legs. The bulge marking the man's private parts signaled to the boy a special masculinity. Nick was not naïve and he was vey precocious. He had seen naked men and he knew this was indeed a different sort of man. Nick wanted to touch him. He wanted to touch the man's hairy arms and feel his stomach. He wanted to touch his face, and most of all he wanted to see what that mound hid.

Shyly the boy took Coach's hand and pulled him towards the pool. "Come on!"

Both men laughed. Coach shrugged and allowed himself to be tugged to the pool. As they got to the pool side, Coach picked the boy up, put his big hands around Nick's tiny waist and dangled him over the water. Nick held onto the man's arms. For an instant he felt the hair long dark hair that covered them. Coach flexed his powerful arms and with a flick tossed the feather light boy into the water. Nick was delighted; he shrieked as he flew through the air. Ken dived in and came up beside him. The boy was beside himself. He gazed at Coach in awe.

"What do you want to see first? I can swim under water and on top. Daddy taught me to do the free style."

"Ok, show me your free."

Without another prompt the boy struck out for the other end of the pool. Ken was impressed. The boy breathed properly, he was fairly fluid in the water and he actually covered the distance. Nick was being extra careful. He certainly wanted to impress this man, and he wanted to make the team. While his stroke was hardly the most efficient or powerful, Coach had not expected as much as he saw. He was impressed. When the boy reached the far end, Coach who was treading water, kicked up and applauded.

"Good swim! You're not a guppy, that's for sure."

Coach struck out and in a few stokes stood beside little Nick at the shallow end of the pool.

"So would you like to be on the team? Would you work hard?"

"Yes!" The boy nodded vigorously. "I'd work real hard. I want to be on your team, Mr. McCarthy."

"Then call me Coach, all the boys on the team call me Coach."

"Ok 3; Coach. When can I start?"

"Our next practice is Friday afternoon. I want you at the pool, 3P sharp. I'm gonna work you hard. It's not easy."

"I'll do everything you want! I'll work hard. Daddy, I'm on the team!!"

Mitchell Perry who had heard this exchange beamed. He nodded to his son. The excited boy jumped into Coach's arms. He held on to the man's hairy muscled arm. He was fascinated. He stroked his arm unselfconsciously as he examined it. It was as hard as a rock.

"Gosh, Coach. You have such a hairy arm. I can't wait 'til Friday. Let's race to the other end."

The boy who had wrapped his legs around Coach's waist, pressed closer to him and then wriggled free.

"I promise I'll work hard for you."

They raced to the end, Coach let him win.

"Coach, you let me win."

Coach McCarty shrugged and laughed. Nicky in his exuberance swam to the other end of the pool. He could hardly contain himself. He took a deep breath and disappeared under the water. In 15 seconds he surfaced right in front of Coach. He gasped and grabbed the man's legs. Coach was surprised. He felt the boy touch him. It felt good. His mind raced. He pulled Nicky up, and held him out of the water. They gazed at each other. Nicky smiled brightly. His pretty teeth flashed in the late afternoon sum. He was as enraptured as Coach was. They both laughed.

"Wise guy, huh?"

Coach lifted the little boy up again and tossed him into the middle of the pool. Nick shrieked with excitement. He swam up to Coach and reached around his neck. They were face to face again, their eyes locked. The boy hung on tight.

"I like you so much, Coach. I'll be a very good boy for you. Will you be my friend?"

The boy clung tightly. Coach spun them both around. A powerful eddy followed them as Coach twirled in the water. Nicky's wrapped his legs round Coach's waist. Nicky held on to Coach. As they spun in sheer happiness Coach reached down and caressed the boy's silky smooth legs. A thrill ran through him. It ran right to his cock. He let his hands rest on the boy's pretty legs. Nicky could not resist. He reached out and placed his hands on Coach's hairy chest.

"Gosh, Coach, you have a lot of hair on your chest, too, a lot more than my Daddy." Coach nodded.

"Yeah, I do. Do you like that?"

"Yes, I do. I like everything about you Coach. Everything."

They spent another half hour in the pool. Coach gave the boy his first real lesson. Nick tried to follow the man's instructions exactly. He was excited and he was happy to be alone in the pool with him. During the lesson Nick glanced over to the terrace and saw that his father was on the phone and when he looked again he had disappeared inside. They were alone together in the pool. Nicky was a very happy little boy. The lesson continued with one-on-one hands on instruction. Coach reached out to the boy and drew him close to demonstrate over arm stroking. He held the boy's arm at the proper angle, brought it down and slashed it into the water. He finished the motion by bringing it through the water, under Nicky's chest and up again. He repeated this several times. He brushed up close and intimate against the boy's lovely body. With one arm he held the boy's waist in a vise and had him repeat. Nicky reveled in the attention. Finally as the boy held his arms stiff at the side of the pool, Coach stood behind him. He grabbed his ankles and moved them up and down, up and down, faster.

"Knees straighter, not stiff, but straighter. That's it. Relax a little. Kick from your hips, not your knees. Good. Man, you learn fast. You're getting it." Coach held the boy's lovely legs. He had done this exercise with many boys, but never had he felt such an electric charge. He was as excited as the boy was, but he thought for a very different reason. As he held the boy by the ankle, he ran his hand up his leg, up his thigh. "Now relax, right there." He stroked the boy's thigh. "That's it right there." He had not done that before, ever. A shiver shot through him.

The boy turned his head back towards Coach and smiled. "How'm I doing?" Coach held the boy's foot in his hand and ran his hand up his leg to his knee again, and then to his thigh. The feeling was electric. He nodded encouragement as he tried to concentrate on the lesson at hand.

"Now kick. See your leg is straighter. Not so hard. Shorter kicks. That's it. It's called a flutter kick. It's a much better kick that way. That's how real swimmers do it." Reluctantly Coach released the boy's legs. "Look." He took his arms, held them in front of himself. He laid them on top of the water, and splashed them in tight strokes in the water. "Like this." Every swim coach knew the demonstration. It had existed as long as swimming lessons had existed.

The lesson became even more intimate when Coach once again took the boy's waist in the crook of his powerful arm, and held him flat in the water. "Now put it all together. Easy, take your time. I got you. Don't worry about staying on top. I won't let you sink. Take your time and pull, pull and kick." The intimacy was not lost on the boy. He returned the pressure. The intense, knowing intimacy between them grew until Coach finally broke away. "Yes, you really are a swimmer. You know some people never get that." As he talked, his thoughts raced. He could not believe what he felt was going on. "Could this little boy, really be coming on to me?" He found it hard to believe, yet he knew it was happening.

At one point near the end of the lesson, Nicky accidentally kicked Coach near his most vulnerable spot. The boy blushed. He was upset.

"Oh, Coach. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you. I wouldn't want to hurt you for anything. I'm sorry." He reached up and stroked the man's face, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that." Tears welled into the Nick's eyes.

Coach was completely charmed.

"No harm, but you gotta watch that. You wouldn't want to permanently hurt me, would you? That wouldn't work."

It was a leading question if ever a question had been led. The boy's face grew grave. "I'd never want to hurt you." Coach laughed and grabbed the boy and held him close. He could have kissed Nicky's wet head. He wiped his tears away.

"It's ok, no harm, no foul."

He wanted to kiss the boy there and then, to make everything better. The boy was intoxicating. He could not wait to have this lovely child, so excited about "making" the team, join the squad. In five more minutes the "lesson" ended with another sprint to the end of the pool. They climbed out together. Nick ran to get the man a towel. "Here!"

He opened the towel and tried to throw it over his coach's shoulder. They dried off together, man to man. They had clearly bonded, and more, Coach felt a stirring in his groin that he had to struggle to contain. He was smitten with new pupil. In the vernacular he was a goner. It was also apparent that the boy was completely captivated by him. He was flattered. He knew that what he felt was clearly out of bounds. He wanted to touch this boy. He wanted to take down his tiny bathing suit and touch him in the most intimate way. He wanted to kiss him. It was way out of bounds, but he could not deny his feelings. This angelic boy had captivated him. He was entranced. The boy had touched him in more than one way. He imagined kissing him, blowing his hot breath on his pretty chest, kissing his nipples. He shook himself. This was wrong. Nicky took Coach's hand.

"Daddy, we had a great practice. Daddy?"

Mitch appeared through the French doors. He was still on the phone. He said his goodbyes and flipped his phone closed.

"Daddy, thank you. I'm going to work so hard."

Ken and Mitch exchanged smiles. The boy stood between them. He looked up at them, adoringly. Now he could not tell which man was more handsome. They were so different. He was a very happy little boy. McCarthy grabbed his shorts, and put them on.

"I have to go. Great first practice!"

Nick stared in awe at his manly legs. He stared at the man's crotch. He wanted to touch it. Instead the wet boy grabbed his father's leg and clung tightly to him. The boy's wet body soaked his father's pant leg. Mitchell Perry didn't care. He was delighted that his son and his new swim coach had bonded. He beamed down at his beautiful little boy. He tousled his wet head.

"Dinner is on the stove. Perhaps you will stay and have dinner with us. We're having cold pasta salad and something else. Our house man left it. And I have beer in the frig."

"Thank you, but I have to hit the road. Nick has worn me out. Early to bed."

They all shared the joke.

Mitch addressed his son. "You need to have a shower before dinner."

Nick beamed back at his father. After a short recap and some small talk, McCarthy reluctantly turned to go. There were handshakes all around. Nick broke away from his father and ran after him.

"Daddy, I am going to take Coach to his car."

He put his small pretty hand into Coach's large hairy hand. He put his other hand over the back of Coach's hand. His two small hands almost covered Coach's, just barely. They walked down the drive together. They were silent.

"Coach, I'm going to work so hard, and be so good."

McCarthy could hardly speak. His thoughts were sexual and transgressive. When they got to the car, Nicky tried to shake Coach's hand. Spontaneously Coach knelt down and took the boy in his arms for a big hug. The boy reached up and returned the hug. Coach stroked the boy's thin back. Nicky pressed in between Coach's legs. Coach inhaled his presence. He almost shook.

"I like you so much, Coach. I can't wait to see you Friday."

"And I can't wait either, little guy. They broke their embrace reluctantly.

"Hey, if you're going to be on the team, you need an official team T shirt. Take mine."

Coach stood up and pulled the damp T shirst over his head. Nicky was quietly beside himself.

"No, Coach, what'll you wear? I couldn't take your T shirt."

"Sure you can. It's a gift to you from me. You're on the team now."

Coach leaned in close.

"Here. Let's put it on now."

The boy raised his arms as coach slide the enormous T shirt over the boy and pulled it down over his thin chest.

"Let's see, how's that look? It's a bit big I think."

The T shirt engulfed the boy, he swam in it and he looked positively adorable in coach's extra large "Dolphin" T shirt. Nicky beamed. "No, it's perfect. I love it Coach." He hugged coach. He was so excited. Coach could see it in his eyes.

"Coach, I'm never, ever going to take it off. It's the best."

Coach reluctantly stood.

"I have to hit the trail, pardner. You're not going to forget, Friday, 3PM."

"No, never," the boy intoned solemnly. Never. I'll be there on time."

Nick stood in the driveway barefooted in his new T shirt. It fell below his calves, almost to his feet. It was almost a dress. He was simply adorable. He was excited, animated and happy. He waved as Coach's car disappeared down the drive. He was the happiest boy.

"Look Daddy. I have a team T shirt. Coach just gave me his T shirt!"

Mitchell was pleased to see the T shirt. He smiled. Nick was so happy and that always made him happy. It was more than damp. He insisted that they toss it into the dryer. The boy could hardly part with it for so long.

"You go have your shower. Squeaky clean now."

"When you get back, it'll be dry. And I'll see what we are having for dinner." When the boy returned he ran to the dryer and took it out. It was warm and dry. He happily put it on. It felt wonderful. He smelled it. He had hoped to smell Coach but all he smelled was StayBreez. He wore the T shirt to bed. But he did not sleep well. He dreamed of being in the hairy arms of a man very like Coach. Coach for his part tossed and turned. He slept fitfully with thoughts of beautiful Nicky laughing, water drenched, pressing provocatively against him. At 5AM, he gave up, tossed aside the sheets, and jerked off. It didn't take him long, his mind raced with thoughts of the beautiful boy.

Nicky joined the Dolphin Swim Club that Friday afternoon. Coach introduced him to his teammates. Most were several years older than he was. As the new boy Nick felt alone and a bit afraid. Still he knew Coach was there and he found that very comforting. He knew he had to prove himself. In the first practice he did just that. He was indeed a decent enough swimmer for one so young. He did have several chits in his favor. He knew Coach would look after him. And he was determined to prove himself to the other guys. His boyish charm and diffidence were powerful assets. But his ace in the hole was his ethereal physical beauty. None of the boys could ignore the beauty of the new boy. It earned him instant deference. He knew this would carry him a long way also. His determination won him the respect of his older teammates, his beauty won their silent awe. The combination of the two eased his way. Nick was determined to do everything right. And he did. He followed orders, he worked hard and he did everything he could to earn his place. His years of assiduously working to please his father paid off. He knew the technique and he applied it to a new situation. And Coach was always there to encourage and teach. His stroke, for one so young, improved greatly under his careful tutelage. Coach had to appear impartial but his interest in Nick and his progress was marked and intense. Nicky was a happy boy, he loved being Coach's favorite. He loved the closeness of the man, and his allure only grew for the boy. Their intimacy was intense and it was facilitated by their physical closeness, the hot house atmosphere of the locker room and their attraction to each other. As August turned to September, Nicky decided that he wanted more. He wanted more than the pool deck and the locker room. He wanted to touch the man, he wanted to touch him intimately and he wanted to kiss him. He knew that Coach wanted this too. He knew it, and he could feel it. At first Coach stood back, afraid to show any favoritism, wary of appearing partial to the charms of this angelic little boy. But Nick continued to work his own special charm and soon they both knew that something would happen, and happen soon. McCarthy was tired of jerking off, thinking of the boy. He wanted to touch him intimately, he too wanted to kiss and to touch him and experience him fully. It was just a matter of time and that time had come. That time had come for both of them.

On a cold day in early October as he climbed out of the pool the cold wind blew through Nicky's thin frame. He shivered. His finger tips were shriveled, his skin was so pale it appeared blue, his teeth chattered. Coach who had been watching his swim while he was doing workout charts beckoned him over to his chair.

"Good swim. Man you're freezing. Here. Wrap up, bud."

Coach took a large white towel and wrapped it around Nick's shivering body.

"You are cold!"

He rubbed the boy's arms and pulled him in closer, between his legs. It seemed a completely natural move, but as with everything between them it was fraught with tension. The boy leaned into the man. He shivered again. "

"Here let me rub your back."

The boy turned around as the warmth of the man enveloped him. Coach rubbed the boy's back vigorously.

"How's that?"

"Better, Coach. I'm still cold."

"Well, I can help with that."

Coach drew him closer, he breathed onto Nick's lovely, thin neck. The boy was happy with the intimacy they shared. He backed in closer between the man's legs. His skinny little boy bum leaned in further until he felt the man's thighs close around him. He liked what he felt. He leaned into the man's crotch and luxuriated in that object that had fascinated him since they first met. He felt the mound between Coach's legs. He shivered again this time with pleasure. And he felt something else. Coach was stiff. He could feel it. This was new. He knew men had bigger, hairier pee pees than his own tiny thing, but he did not know that a man's pee pee could get hard. He backed provocatively into it and felt it against his bum. It felt good. Coach's strong arms encircled him. Nicky in turn held onto Coach's arms. As he leaned back into Coach he wondered at this stiffness. He liked the feeling of the man's hairy thighs holding him tight. And he liked the strange sensation of Coach's hard cock against his tiny boy butt. He shyly rubbed his bum against it again. Coach tensed and held him tighter. After pretending to attend to the boy's shoulders, rubbing him vigorously with the towel, he released the boy.

"Now that should warm you up a bit."

The freezing boy wrapped his towel around himself tighter and turned to face the man. He looked directly into the man's eyes. His honest, wide-eyed gaze tacitly told Coach that he knew what had happened, and that he liked it and that he wanted more. Coach tried to feign nonchalance. Confused and excited he told the boy to get dressed, but his mind raced. He thought, "This is the final test. It has happened, finally." He was relieved. He was fully aware that a signal moment between them had passed. He fumbled his words, he cast his eyes down. Nick touched his thighs with his small hands as though to reassure him.

"I swam well today, Coach." Coach could barely talk.

"Yes, good swim, Nick. You warmer? I don't want to lose my ace swimmer to frost bite."

Nick smiled. They both knew this was not the end of it.

"Sure, Coach. I am warmer now, thanks."

He shivered and touched the Coach on his knees.

"Thanks, Coach. That felt good."

The boy softly caressed the man's thighs.

"Coach, I want to touch you. Coach, I like you so much. I want to kiss you too. May I kiss you." The boy's eyes were wide, vulnerable and pleading.

"Yes, but not here. Yes, I want to kiss you also. I want to smother you in kisses. But we have to be careful. I'll think of something." Nicky's hands were too close to Coach's crotch for decency, he gave the man's knees a squeeze.

"I want to touch you, here." He placed his hand on Coach's raging hard on. Coach felt as though he were going to explode.

"I want to touch you here." The boy reached out and stroked the hair on the man's chest. "Please? I won't tell anyone." With that he turned and ran to the locker room.

Coach sat on the deck in stupefied wonder. He was numb. As much as he had anticipated this moment, he was afraid, afraid of his emotions and afraid of what would happen next. As with every situation of such surpassing strangeness, he wondered, "Did this really happen? Is this what I think it was? Has it really happened?" It had happened. The beautiful little boy knew what had happened and he knew. They both knew. Coach wanted more, and he wanted it soon. He was in shock. Until now they had been playing at a game. Now they were about to take the game to a dangerous new level. He had never transgressed with a boy on his team. He had done it with young boys on several occasions but he had been well protected by distance and the tolerant attitude of Thailand. He had longer for such an experience and it did not disappoint. This situation was entirely different, it was dangerous, but he was lost and he had to act. As many gorgeous boys has he had coached, they remained a distant unattainable fantasy. He had remained unfulfilled, celibate with boys. But here was a gorgeous little boy, offering himself, pleading for Coach's attention, for his kisses, and for his sex. He had crossed the divide. He was determined to act, and soon. He would taste this boy soon.

The next afternoon Coach found an excuse to keep little Nick after practice. He tried to appear calm but he could not. His words were rushed. His face flushed red. He could only hope that no one noticed. He tried to maintain his cool but he could not help himself. So intent was he on continuing what had begun the day before, so obsessed was he, that he could not contain himself. He had spent the last 24 hours in a daze, thinking more than ever of little Nick, never thinking of anything but little Nick, his beautiful body, his seeming willingness, his sweet, grave demeanor. He thought of every part of him. He desperately wanted more. He wanted the boy, totally and completely, naked and beautiful. He was obsessed and knew that soon he would act upon the boy's tacit invitation. He would take them both to a new level of intimacy. He had never felt such emotions in his life. The hours dragged. He was helpless. He spent that evening and the next day aching to touch and fondle the boy. A constant raging hard on signaled his unquenchable lust for the pretty 8 year old.

Coach hatched a plan. It would have to do. It was a bit flimsy, but it was all he had and, it would have to work. He called Nick's dad. He began casually with a report of Nick's progress. He could hear Mitch's interest on the other end of the line. Finally he told him that he thought his son would benefit from one-on-one private coaching sessions. After they had finished he would gladly drive the boy home. The father agreed, flattered that his son's promise as a swimmer warranted extra attention. The ploy worked. Mitchell Perry enthusiastically signed on. That afternoon after regular practice, Coach took Nick aside. They waited for the other members of the team to leave. As nonchalantly as he could, McCarthy suggested that they work on stroke form. Nicky smiled knowingly. He was well aware of the game being played. As soon as his father told him of the special lessons, he knew that it was just a cover. For forms sake, they got into the pool. In the pool, Coach asked the boy to swim to him. When Nicky reached the man he dived under water and came up right in front of Coach. His hands reached eagerly for the prize he sought. Coach backed away slightly but then lunged and caught the boy as he grabbed for him again. They both laughed. They reenacted that first day they had met, only this time more openly and with the intenyion of fulfilling their desire for each other. Both the man and the little boy were very happy. That was apparent. Relief swept over Coach as he felt the tension abate. They continued their tutorial waiting for the pool deck and locker room to empty out. But the touching and intimacy between them carried an entirely new meaning for them. This was only the beginning. Finally they would play out the Third Act. When the last parent had picked up the last son and staff had departed, Coach suggested that they hit the locker room. Nick nodded his assent. Finally. Coach was nervous but excited. He tousled Nicky's hair, grabbed him around the waist and lifted him out of the pool.

"Man, it's cold, grab a towel fella."

They walked silently towards the locker room. Nicky took coach's hand. He leaned into him. Coach put his arm around him and drew him close. They were alone amid the damp, the wet towels and the wet bathing suits. Locker doors stood half open. The lighting was harsh, but they were alone and that is what mattered. Coach was clearly nervous. Nick was not. Coach did not know what to do. He looked around and finally sat on the bench. He looked at Nick, his eyes were pleading. He did not know what to do. Nick silently drew up to him just as he had the day before. Shyly he touched Coach's muscled thighs. The bulge in the man's tight gym shorts was unmistakable. Nick reached for that enticing bulge. He wanted more, he wanted to touch the man, as he had yesterday. He was intrigued. He felt the huge mound of man meat under the shorts. Coach sat stony still. Nick smiled shyly and glanced up at Coach.

"I like this."

"I do too, Nick," Coach sighed.

He could barely speak. Nick smiled up into Coach's face and offered his lush pretty full lips to the man. Coach groaned and stiffened. He bent down and kissed the boy, chastely, softly. Nick leaned in and returned the kiss. He rubbed the bulge in the man's Speedo. It was big, as big as his own little peter was small. It fascinated him. He had never felt a man cock before. He had often thought what touching it would be like, but he had only thought of them as soft. This was entirely different, and it felt strange and good. He had seen man cock at the country club and he knew he wanted to touch it and feel it. His own tiny boy dick stiffened. This had happened before, but these were new circumstances and it felt different, more exciting. He felt a thrill.

"I like touching you, Coach. You have a big pee pee, I think."

He kissed Coach again, closed mouth. "I like you Coach, you're so nice, and I like the way you look. I never kissed anyone but Daddy before. This is different. I want to see you." The boys glanced down at Coach's crotch.

With that Coach stood up and pushed his suit down to reveal a jock strap encasing his now fully erect very hard cock. Its length sat almost sideways in the pouch of his jock strap. The fat head of his cock strained to escape its confinement. Nick felt it. A thrill shot through him. Fascinated he outlined it with his small fingers. He played his fingers along its length. He frowned.

"Coach, your pee pee is very big."

Curiously, gravely his hands strayed to Coach's inner thighs. He was fascinated by the luxuriant dark hair that spread out from the man's crotch. He was very interested in it. He felt the thick trail of dense man hair on the man's lower belly. As with the hair on his thighs, it disappeared into the waist band of the straining jock strap. Coach's cock pulsed. Nicky stroked the hair on Coach's upper thighs. He felt the man's hairy belly. He was curious and purposeful and grave in his probing. Coach groaned, he almost swooned and said,

"You want to see more?"

"Yes," nodded the boy. "Yes, I do. I want to see your hard pee pee."

In one motion Coach reached under the waist band of his jock strap and pushed it down below his thighs. His cock sprang free from its prison. It was stiff, hard, excited. It surged upwards to his navel. Heavy, hairy balls hung below it. The boy stared at the man's crotch. It was as promised, a big piece of man meat, big long and thick. Hastily in one motion Coach bent down and pushed the jock to his ankles. Balancing on one foot he deftly kicked it off. It hit the half open locker door. Nicky gasped.

"Coach you have a very big pee pee. May I touch it? I like Coach's pee pee a lot. It's so big."

"Of course you can. I want you to touch it. Coach likes that."

The boy put both his hands around Coach's fat man cock and squeezed. Coach almost came on the spot. He bent down and kissed Nicky on the top of his head. He inhaled the chlorinated scent of his mop of dark golden hair. He kissed the top of his head again. He felt the boy's thin, beautiful smooth shoulders. He could not contain himself. He sat down again and drew the boy to him. He wrapped him in his masculine arms and drew him closer between his legs. The boy's belly pressed against his rigid cock. He turned the boy's face up to him and kissed him on the lips. This time I was a longer kiss, passionate and deeply felt. This was not a chaste kiss. It was a kiss marked by true lust and excitement. He kissed the boy's shoulder. He caressed his shoulders, his back and then his small pretty flat chest.

"I like Nicky. He is a very beautiful boy and Coach likes that." The boy beamed. "Coach wants to make Nicky feel so good."

"You do Coach. I like this." The boy meant it. During this kiss and exchange the boy's hands had never left the man's cock.

"Please I want to kiss some more. I like that." Coach obliged him with another passionate kiss. The boy willingly succumbed. He melted into coach's arms. Coach opened his mouth slightly and the boy did likewise. This kiss was the even more overtly passionate than the last and signaled a new depth in their explorations. Coach breathed heavily. He could hardly contain himself.

"Touch my cock, Nicky. Coach likes that. You can play with my cock." The boy looked down at the massive meat pressed against his belly.

"Big men have cocks, Nicky. My pee, is a man's pee pee and it is called a cock."

"Oh, I like your 'cock'." The boy hesitated. "It's so big. Mine is so tiny. And you have all this big man hair."

"Yes, I do. Touch it, Nicky."

Nicky needed no other urging. He stepped back and again took Coach's cock in his hand and began to rub it. Any touch, any interaction with this boy could easily send Coach over the edge. He was not a hasty love maker, but this boy was so thrilling, it was all so new that he felt that his cock was a hair trigger. Intuitively Nicky applied himself to Coach's cock with the small delicate hands of an expert. Somehow he knew what to do. He pressed Coach's cock against his hairy belly. He saw a clear drop of thick goo sitting on slit of the large head of Coach's cock. The curious boy rubbed his finger in it. He smeared it over the man's cock head. He applied himself to the man's cock and pumped it with both of his beautiful small white hands. Coach leaned back and groaned.

"Coach you have such big things. See mine aren't big."

"Those are balls, Nicky. Men like to have them played with also. Nicky reached down and shyly touched Coaches hairy nuts. It was a strange, exciting feeling. He felt Coach's cock again. It went absolutely rigid. The boy's soft pretty hand on his bag had done it.

"Oh, god, I can't help it. I'm gonna shoot." Nick looked up at Coach's face. It was contorted, his eyes were closed.

"Shoot?" What did Coach mean?

He grasped the man's cock once again, just as Coach's back stiffened

"Oh, god I can't hold it. I'm gonna do what big men do when they are very happy." Coach's voice was hoarse. He could barely speak. "This is what big men do when they are excited by little pretty little boys." He gasped, "This is what big men do." With that he arched his back, he jerked once and a thick stream of milky white jizz erupted from his cock slit. It shot up his chest. A glob hit his shoulder; several more landed on his chest and stuck in the hair there. A second less violent eruption pulsed from his cock; it oozed from his cock slit and covered the boy's hands. Nicky continued to rub Coach's cock. He stared in awed silence at what had happened. He felt the slippery white milk on his hands. Coach opened his eyes and placed his hands over the boy's hands which still grasped his cock. He spoke.

"So now you know what happens when big men like little boys. I like this boy so much. It feels so good." Nicky smiled and giggled.

"Wow, Coach, does that happen all the time?"

"Only when a boy as sweet as you and as pretty as you, makes it happen. It means I like you, a lot, a whole lot." Coach barely whispered. There was a pause. Neither spoke. Finally Coach managed a sentence.

"Did you like that Nicky? Coach wants you to feel good too."

"Yes, I did. Can we kiss again? I really like kissing. My hands are all gooey."

Coach almost lost it again. He lifted the boy up onto his lap and obligingly planted his mouth on the boy's. He nibbled Nicky's lower lip. The boy giggled.

"That tickles."

They kissed, the boy with growing assurance and expertise. He put his arms around the man's neck and surrendered his mouth. While they kissed his sweet hands roved over Coach's chest. They explored Coach's broad chest, they felt the luxuriant hair on his chest. At last he knew what his father and his friends felt like. And he liked that feeling. He took Coach's head in his tiny sweet, cum smeared hands and kissed him. Their lips met and again they kissed long and deep. He felt the man's face, his five o'clock shadow, his jaws and chin. Coach playfully kissed his hands and drew one into his mouth. He sucked the congealed cum from little Nick's fingers.

"You taste so good with my stuff on your fingers." Nicky giggled.

"I want to touch you again."

"Nicky, you may touch me again and again. I like you so much. You have to consider me your very very special friend. You can touch me anytime, if I can kiss you and touch you also. Deal?"

"Yes, it's a deal." The boy hopped down off his new special friend's lap and earnestly, gravely took Coach's wilting cock in his hand. "Now you look like my Daddy and his friends. Only it's still so big." Instantly Coach's slumping cock began to lengthen. Round Two. Nicky applied himself to a careful examination of Coach's cock. This time he reached for Coach's gonads. He hefted them into his small hands. He was curious about everything.

"Those are my balls. You have little ones, I have big man balls." The boy nodded.

"You do. They are so big, I like them too. I can't decided which I like more, your pee pee, I mean cock or these."

"You don't have to choose, sweetie, you can have both and more anytime you want. Anytime."

Nicky continued to explore with happy enthusiasm and soon Coach had deposited another massive load of man jizz on his belly and on Nick's hand. They slowly came down to earth. The landing was pleasant for both of them. It was time to clean up. Special practice had to end. As they drove to Nicky's house, Coach nervously reminded Nicky that what had happened was to be there special secret. Nicky calmed Coach's nerves. He knew that what they had done had to remain their secret. He did not want to ruin their special secret by giving it away to anyone. Coach was his special friend and his alone. He would not spoil that by telling anyone.

The secret relationship developed rapidly. From kissing on the lips, they learned to explore each other more fully. Coach's hunger for the boy grew only grew more inflamed. He felt true lust for this beautiful, perfect little boy. He had never experienced such lust before. Thinking about his, his cock grew as hard as it ever had. He had to resist jerking off. Sometimes as he longed for the boy, he laid a load on his stomach, thinking of him. The man and the boy found many opportunities to be alone together, especially after regular swim practice. As Nicky's confidence in the art of love making grew, they explored new ways of touching, of kissing and of man-boy love making. The boy grew comfortable with Coach's body. He explored every part of it, including his hairy ass. He no longer asked permission or fondled him uncertainly. His confidence grew and he asserted himself in the love making. He loved touching coach, in certain ways and places, more than others. He took his freedom with his lover. He felt free to touch him wherever he liked and how he liked. For his part Coach found new ways to initiate the boy into the art of love making. He gradually insinuated himself into every part of the boy. He body kissed him. The boy went stiff with pleasure, his head thrown back in pleasure. Coach kissed his skinny belly, tongued his pretty boy nipples, ran his tongue up and down his torso. He inserted it into his tiny belly button, sucking with pleasure. He worked his way down and kissed his smooth, delicious concave belly as his hands explored. He cupped the boy's lovely little pink balls in his large hand. He played gently with his cock with the other. His kissing of the boy's private parts intensified as Nick moaned with pleasure. Working his way down he finally took the boy's tiny erect, perfect penis, his stiff penis, in his mouth and made love to it. He caressed his little nuts, softly, gently and he kissed them too. Nick responded. While he could not express that ultimate pleasure reserved for mature men, he let coach know by word and reciprocal deed that he loved making love with him. Their sessions became more intense, freer and longer. They grew happy and intimate with each other.

"Coach I want to kiss you here. I want to kiss your big cock like you kiss mine. May I? I want to do that."

"Of course, sweetie, if you want that, Coach wants it too. It's called sucking cock and men do that with each other. It's something men who like each other a lot do. I'd like that a lot."

"Finally," thought Coach, "it is really going to happen."

Tentatively the boy bent down. He gazed at Coach's big fat dick. He wondered if he could get it into his mouth. He wanted to do it, as Coach had done it to him. He knew he could get some of it in, but he wanted it all. He put his mouth right next to Coach's cock head. The boy ran his mouth across the dense thatch of pubic hair above his prize. He loved Coach's man hair. He had always been attracted to man hair. That was one reason he liked Coach so much. He was a real man and he liked that. He held Coach's cock in his little hand and gently began to jerk him off. All the while his mouth explored his belly, he kissed his hairy belly, took some of his dense belly hair between his teeth and nipped at it. He moved to his crotch and his upper thighs. His tongue languidly flicked across his thigh. The boy liked what he was going to Coach. He moaned in pleasure as did Coach. Coach placed his hand lightly on the top of Nick's head.

"Oh, Sweetie, that feels so good."

Coach could feel the boy's hot breath on his belly, his crotch. Nicky inhaled the aroma of Coach's dense pubic hair. It smelled of chlorine. It was intoxicating. Finally the boy poised his lovely mouth right above the man's cock head. He kissed it, at first chastely. He did it again and then with more enthusiasm. He opened his pretty little mouth and took the large mushroom head of Coach's cock into his mouth. With one hand he worked Coach's cock as his mouth wrapped around his prize. He worked his mouth up and down taking as much as he could of Coach's big cock into his mouth. It felt good. He liked sucking Coach. He liked the feel of a man's cock in his mouth. Coach's back arched. He held the boy's head more firmly in his big hands.

"Oh, oh, Nicky. Coach is going to cum. Do you want that?"

The boy did not flinch. He held his mouth to Coach's cock. He stopped jerking Coach and placed his hands on his balls. He cupped them in his hands and kneaded them gently. He caressed his heavy cum filled balls. In one final spasm, Coach went rigid and then with one thrust emptied his cock cum into the boy's mouth. A second smaller eruption followed. Silence. Coach stroked the boy's head. Nicky's mouth stayed on Coach's cock. Coach felt him swallow his load. Silence. Coach felt the boy's throat tighten as he swallowed again. Coach opened is eyes and looked down to see the boy looking at him. He reached down and pulled the boy up on top of him. He pulled him close, wrapped his arms around his frail torso. He stroked his thin back. He knew it well now, and he loved that every square inch of it. He loved its velvety smoothness. He loved the possessive intimacy. He kissed Nicky long and deep. Nicky groaned. They kissed again. Coach tongued the boy's lips, cleaning the saliva and stray cum from his lips and mouth. Coach stroked the boy. He felt the boy rock hard dick grinding against his belly hair. He wanted badly to have the boy cum too. But clearly that was impossible. He wanted the boy to feel as he did. With that final initiation into the mysteries of man-boy love, Coach knew that they would go no further. He was happy and he was fulfilled. While he did often dry hump the boy, he did not think of fucking him. The boy was far too young, too sweet, too special for Coach to take responsibility for that. He never thought of broaching the subject. He was in love. He did not want to hurt his lover. He had no intention of taking responsibility for that painful initiation. As it was he was happy, happier than he had ever been sexually and emotionally. Nick was delightful as he was. Their love making was complete. Coach reveled in it and felt complete. On occasion as they found new positions, Coach found himself covering the boy, supporting himself on his arms while he covered the boy's back, his cock poised above his pretty little smooth fanny. He lowered himself and settled his cock onto the lovely crack of his lover's ass. It filled it completely. He gently rubbed up and down that lovely boy fanny, he caressed his pretty thin fanny with his cock. He nibbled the boy's ears, his neck, his hair. He ventured no further, even as little Nicky moaned in pleasure. Nicky asked him to cum on his back, right there, as he put it. Coach obliged but he proceeded no further.

No one could have dreamed how deeply infatuated the man was, but to his consternation he found his need to be with the boy, to be intimate with him, to touch and feel and kiss him, had grown far deeper than he could have dreamed of a few short months ago. His need for the boy was great. Nicky, in his turn, liked the love making he and Coach engaged in, he loved the kissing and touching. Nicky soon learned of the power of sex. He was precocious if nothing else, and of course he was a great deal more. He grew expert in the art of man-boy love making. As the relationship grew he began to exercise his growing sense of Coach's infatuation by being more demanding in their love making. He directed the terms of their coupling. In no way would Coach ever attempt anything without asking permission. Love making occurred on the boy's terms. He began to dictate the terms and from that learned that there was an intense psychological gratification to be had from love making. If he could not yet achieve total gratification during their intense sessions, he could achieve something else that was intensely gratifying. When Nicky realized how much Coach craved his attentions, and how he could direct Coach to do what he bade, the realization dawned on him that he wielded the power in their relationship. He found that he liked that almost as much, if not more, than their love making. His favors to his lover gave him a great deal of power in the relationship. His favors became a means to power. It was a signal revelation for one so young and so aware. It was one of his young life's great lessons. While he could not cum, or even pretend to the heights of sexual gratification a mature male could achieve, he was still a happy and gratified little boy. He loved playing with Coach's manly body. But he also loved manipulating the man. He loved eliciting automatic responses in his lover. He knew how to make the man's cock stiff; he knew that with minimum effort he could make him cum. He knew how to make the man erupt at will. He knew how to kiss him in such a way that he would cum automatically. And he learned the more subtle aspects of love making. He loved kissing coach's cock, he learned to suck it into his small mouth, he learned to play with his big balls, and he learned to kiss those also. And he learned the terminology of love making between a boy and a man.

One afternoon instead of engaging in real love making, he coldly told Coach to jerk off.

"I want to see you shoot a load of cum, Coach. Do it, now."

Nicky stood back as the helpless man, wordlessly spat on his hand and applied the spittle to his cock. "Now jerk of for me. I want a big load." He cooly watched Coach jerk off. When the man had deposited the required load of white jizz on his stomach, Nicky told him to eat it.

"Take it on your fingers. Now eat it. Eat your cum. Lick your fingers. It's good, isn't it?"

Coach sat motionless. The helpless man did as he was told. "Tell me you like eating cum. Tell me," the boy said evenly. Silence.

"Yes, I like eating cum." The boy smirked.

"Now I want a shower and then you can take me home. I don't want to kiss today." The boy turned towards the shower and left Coach sitting on the bench. Nicky had grown up fast, the dynamic had changed. He liked it. Coach sat dumbfounded.

Nick began to think that he might like to explore other men. It was not that he did not like and appreciate Coach for the man he was. But he wanted to try other men. Coach sensed the change; he questioned the boy about it. Nicky coldly told him that he was not that into him anymore. His lover protested, he pleaded. He begged. Nicky would hear none of it and efficiently, with a few carefully chosen words, threatened to expose his lover. Nick told Coach that he would let him know if and when he wanted to make love again. Finally with a kick in the gut he told Coach that he would like a present. "

"You only gave me a few things. Maybe you don't like me as much as I thought you did. I want a Play station, the new model. I have an Xbox, but I think I want a PlayStation."

The words cut Coach to the quick. Nick announced that they would stop on the way home and buy it. It was not that his father would not buy him anything he wanted. He wanted a gift and he wanted Coach to buy it for him. He meant to demonstrate to Coach who held all the cards. And with that final humiliation he dispensed with his old lover and went in search of others choice encounters. Occasionally he allowed Coach the pleasure of his body, but it was always on his terms. Several times he demanded that Coach change his plans to accommodate him. And once while discussing a boy's progress with a parent, Nick told Coach that it was time to go. They left. He let the man suck his stiff little dick for a minute in the drive way before he dismissed him. Coach was devastated. Nicky did not care. He remained on the team. At practice he dismissed the pleading looks cast his way by his former lover. He did thank Coach for that first encounter, that first experience of loving between a man and a boy. And he did appreciate Coach's body. But he wanted to try other men. He was indeed grateful in his own way to Coach. He did not hate the man, he did not despise him, but he had set his sights on new quarry and he wanted to test his new skills and his new awareness of his power. He had outgrown Coach and it was time to end it. Coach had taught him valuable lessons; he had taught himself even more. He was done.

Part II
In his Sights: Man Trap

Coach had taught him well. Nick had been a willing and precocious pupil. His former lover had been the perfect first encounter. He was a real man, fully formed, sexually very potent. He was everything a man should be. He had the equipment of a real man, he had a big cock, a real man tool by any standard of measurement. His mature body spoke to everything a man was supposed to be. His big testosterone built body, his cock, his big man balls, his hairy chest and arms and crotch, he was a no holds barred men. He was the epitome of what a real man should be. As much as he appreciated Coach, Nicky knew that there were other sorts of men, equally attractive men, but different. He was curious about these other men and he wondered if they were like Coach. Or were they very different. One thing he did know. They too offered the possibilities of hot interesting sex. It would be different sex, and he wanted to experience the how and why of other men.

From his first revelatory relationship with Coach Nicky had learned both the vocabulary of man-boy love making and the art of how to do it. He may have remained a virgin in the strictest sense of the word, but he was certainly a virgin no longer after his affair. His intense coupling with Coach had taught him everything. And he learned that he wanted more of it, a lot more. Men no longer remained a mystery and they were much more interesting than he had ever thought. He learned what male anatomy was good for and he learned how men used their equipment. He understood men's plumbing, how their cocks stiffened with urgent excitement, how they could be made to ejaculated streams of sticky hot cum. He learned that men's cocks were very powerful driving forces in their lives. Throbbing male cock intrigued him and it enticed him to want more. He longed to make men deposit hot cum in his hands or on their bellies. He longed to taste it and even swallow it. It was an understatement that Coach had taught him a lot. He was naïve no longer. That he could arouse a man and make him shoot a load was an astonishing revelation. He had the techniques of sexual man-boy love literally at his finger tips. It pleased him that he had such power, that he could make a man so hot that he could make him shoot loads of thick, man spunk. He had the answers. He now understood why he had always been fascinated by the physicality of men. They had powerful physical needs and he resolved that he wanted to manipulate those needs for his own gratification. Man-boy sex was deeply, deeply satisfying to him. In sex with men he found in it the answers and the outlet for his own desires. Always cognizant of his attraction for his adored father, he now found other outlets for those illicit desires. If he could not have his father, if he could not touch him as he truly wished to touch him, then he would have other men. The mystery of men remained a mystery no longer. He had learned what they had and how they used it. He understood how to seduce them and give them pleasure. His knowledge went far beyond the understanding of any boy his age. His new understanding of men was indeed beyond precocious. He intended to act and act soon on to satisfy his growing appetite for sex with men. He would become an expert seducer. He had learned a great deal on the lap of Coach. Now he aimed to test what he had learned to explore and conquer.

Even armed with this potentially corrosive knowledge and intimate self-awareness little Nick did not forfeit one bit of his essential sweetness. Unlike Dorian Gray's portrait, such lethal, dark knowledge, did not lead to rot. His beauty did not putrefy or fade. He knew that, his sweetness and seeming innocence were potent tools as he set out to seduce men. While he was no longer innocent when it came understanding men, he retained an outward innocence that he knew could disarm any man. This allowed him to draw near to a man and to sense whether he was susceptible to his alluring charms. Not all were. But the boy's charm, his innocence, and the inability to of his chosen partners to believe that so sweet a boy could be so manipulative, won the day. Men were had before they knew they were being had.

For a boy who had become so sexually aware at such early an age, his seeming sweet innocence camouflaged his true intentions. His innocence disarmed everyone who met him. But it was not everyone who he desired to seduce. The objects of his desire were mature men and, it was to them that he turned his attention. At his disposal he possessed a formidable arsenal of weapons. He knew how to deploy them. Coolly, with single-minded determination, he focused on men who he found worthy of seduction. His ego and self-confidence, stoked by his conquest of Coach, exploded. The growing sense that he could seduce gratified him. That he knew that he could have sex with men fueled his sense of power and entitlement. This in turn led to a certain moral short circuit in the boy. It was all about Nick. He never considered that the men he set his sights on might have qualms. He desired to touch men, to have sex with them, to know them intimately, to fondle them, to suck their cocks, to kiss them and, he would. This egotism did not in any way evince itself in his outward behavior. All this newly acquired self-knowledge he kept locked deep inside. His sense that he could have men when he chose, as he chose, formed the core of his psycho-sexual make up. The combination of his looks and his understanding of himself was indeed a powerful weapon as he set off on his quest to seduce men. His ego drove him and his ego was satisfied only when he had seduced the object of his affections. He learned to marshal his weapons and the result was more often than not victory. Sex with men, who he manipulated into abandoning any sense of morality, was deeply satisfying to the cunning little boy. He was fully aware of his motives. He knew what he was doing.

Nicky set out to find new sex partners. Coach had given him so much. He had taught him what men liked and he had given him the tools of the trade. His sexual relationship with him had run its course. He looked forward to testing his new skills and experimenting with other men. Coach was only a beginning, a very good and satisfying beginning, a big dick, hot beginning, but a just a beginning nonetheless. But the world, even his small corner of it, was a big place rife with possibilities. Knowing those possibilities and knowing how men worked, he examined the men around him in a new light. The potential candidates for his attentions were all around him. He would select his next encounter carefully. He would bestow his favors only on that next man who he found very attractive and very desirable. He knew exactly what he liked in men. Only men he thought very handsome would be even consider as worthy of his sexual favors.

It did not take long before that man presented himself. The boy arrived home at 5PM one evening in early March. It was just two weeks after he had ended his affair with Coach. Practice had gone well. Manuel had just left for the evening. Martine, the live in maid, was downstairs in her room watching television. His father had texted him to tell him that he had played 18 hole of golf and would be home soon. Nick expected a quiet evening, just the two of them as was per usual. He headed for the shower. He emerged fresh and clean, not one lingering faint whiff of chlorine lingered. He put on a fresh pair of Bambi Boy printed briefs. They were adorable on him. They fit him like Jr. Calvin Klein's. He slipped into a pair of faded jeans. He did not like the usual baggy jeans uniform most boys wore. He thought they were sloppy and too homeboy, and he was definitely not a homeboy wanna be. As small as he was his jeans fit him perfectly. They hugged his lithe little body. They sat just so on his waist, low below his tiny horizontal belly button. They accentuated his adorable ass and his hot, very trim waistline. He put on a fresh Speedo T shirt with the company's logo emblazoned across its back. It too fit him to the "T" it should. He looked fresh, clean, very comfortable and alive. With his new awareness of himself he had begun to develop a sure sense of what looked best on him. He selected clothes that showed off his sleek swimmer's body. Swimming had paid huge dividends. He remained thin, but swimming had given his body definition. His long thin arms and legs had gained tone and definition. They were firmer and beautifully shaped. There was more definition in every boyish muscle than there had been 6 months before. His body, while in no way approaching that of an athletic teenage boy, had nevertheless gained a great deal from the hours he had spent in the pool. For a boy so young he exhibited fine physical form. He was naturally a lovely child. Now his new body became another, essential component of that beauty. His flat firm little chest was beautifully, gracefully defined, set off by delectable small pink nipples. His stomach even sported vestigial abdominals. His skin lay silky smooth s over his taut belly. His waistline was fastidiously slim. There was not an excess ounce of weight on him and certainly not an ounce of fat. His legs were long, lithe and firm. He was a pederast's dream, the perfect image of a young boy in robust good health. He was the personification of boy man bait. Swimming had done well by him and he knew it.

Toweling off his damp hair, he headed down the hall to the kitchen and then made a bee line straight for the refrigerator. He stood surveying the selection, as the kitchen door opened. Still staring into the open door of the refrigerator he said, "Hi, Daddy. I had a great practice." He turned to greet his father. He dropped the towel to his shoulders and stopped in his tracks. Nick brushed his still damp golden brown hair back out of his eyes. It fell in graceful disarray over his brow. Standing beside his father was a man he had never seen before, a man who immediately drew his interest. Who was this stranger? He would know soon enough. He was intrigued. A smile spread across his father's face. Without the slightest pause, the boy ran over to his father, reached up as his father bent down. They kissed on the lips.

"Hey, #1 Dolphin. I want to hear all about practice but, I want you to meet Daddy's friend from the office. Say hello to Mr. Mason." He addressed the stranger. "Will, this is my one and only, Nick."

Standing next to his father was a very, very handsome older man. He was the essence of well-bred White Anglo-Saxon refinement. Since the Perry family shared the same genes exactly, Nicky was quite familiar with the look. But this particular example of the tribe's physical attractiveness was exceptional. The man who stood by his father was perhaps 15 years older than Mitch Perry. Still they looked very alike; both were tall and thin. While the stranger possessed a fine, lean body it was his face that drew Nick's attention. He was indeed very handsome. He had a high, aristocratic forehead. His hair was grey flecked with some remnants of its former brown color. A dusting of white hair dappled the nape of his neck and framed the hair around his ears. He wore it trimmed neatly; it was impeccably cut. It was parted neatly on the left side. His hair was beginning to thin. It was also beginning to recede slightly. His eyes were a lovely watery blue, they gave him a slightly distant air, as if he were looking over the horizon at something only he could see. They were rather more deeply set than his father's. Framing his eyes were fine, arched brows. They had once been brown but were beginning to go as grey as his hair. His nose was perfectly symmetrical, aquiline, narrow, with just slightly flaring nostrils. Below them, above his upper lip, there was a pronounced dimple. It was emphasized by the five o'clock shadow on his upper lip. His lips had thinned with age, but his mouth was wide and masculine. It broadened his narrow face. His teeth were even, straight and fine. Nicky thought them very white, dazzling. His face wore his age well, but there were the unmistakable natural signs of aging in it. Nick thought that only added to the man's good looks. Fine creases extended from his eyes to his temples; there was a slight puffiness under his lower lids. Labial folds on either side of his nose were evident. And there was a slight crepeiness to his upper neck and his neck muscles were beginning to separate. He was clearly older than his father, but that only added to Nick's rising interest and curiosity. All of his father's friends and his father himself were 'older.' He had always been attracted to older men. It was quite natural. But this man was a different order of 'older.' The boy was intrigued. At the club, older men did not look like Mr. Mason, not by a very long shot. His age made him only more handsome and more distinguished in his eyes. Nick thought him very sexy. He was smitten. "Wow. He's older than Daddy but he is very handsome," thought the boy. He remained very cool, but his mind raced. Here was a man of real interest. Here was a man who was worthy of his interest and more. His evident age, coupled with his physical presence intrigued the boy. He was very excited. He extended his hand to Mr. Mason and shook it.

"Hi, I just got in from practice. I am very glad to meet you." He smiled up at the man. Mr. Mason returned his greeting with a 100 watt smile. Nicky was a goner. The boy lowered his eyes and blushed prettily. Since he stood just at the man's stomach level, he continued his survey. Mr. Mason wore navy blue tropical wool slacks. They fit him perfectly. The emphasized his fastidiously slim waistline. His slacks fell straight to his high crotch. There was not one unsightly belly bulge. His pants did not however reveal that other bulge that had been so prominent in Coach. This man was not built like Coach, but that did not bother his admirer in the least. Not all men were built the same. He knew that. Handsome and elegant trumped all other assets and this friend of his father's was very handsome indeed. Nicky briefly fantasized unzipping his fly and fondling his cock. He flashed on it hard, stoked and hot. He flashed on his own lips wrapped around it, his hand stroking it. He cast his eyes down further. The crease in the man's pant cuff landed just so and brushed the dark brown, polished tassel loafers on his feet. Nicky thought him very well-dressed, and that pleased him also. Nicky shyly looked up into the man's face. Mr. Mason smiled again.

"Mr. Mason is managing partner of our Seattle office. You know that case I have been working on?" The boy nodded. "Well, that case is going to trial in two months and, Mr. Mason has come to our office this week to work on it with us. We played a little hooky this afternoon. We took a break and just played 18."

"Oh," said the boy as he slowly, reluctantly withdrew his hand from the much bigger hand of Daddy's friend. He liked the feel of Mr. Mason's hand. He did not have as strong a grip as Coach did. His hand was smoother, very different from Coach's, but he liked the feel of it. His fingers were long and fine. He had beautifully manicured nails. There was not one hair on his knuckles. His lower arms were smooth. They were slightly grazed by straight blond hair. His arms were defined by the long sinewy muscles of a golfer. From even this cursory evaluation Nicky knew that he wanted Mr. Mason, that he wanted to unzip his pants, and fondle his cock, he wanted to see him naked, he wanted to caress his chest and legs as he had explored Coach's and, he wanted Mr. Mason to touch him back. Nick noticed everything about him. He took him all in. This was a very fine, very good looking man. He was in Nick's sights. Nick was a very excited, happy little boy.

"How'd you play, Daddy?" His father shrugged his shoulders. Nicky looked at the object of his growing infatuation. "That means my father played well." They all laughed. "My father is a very good golfer. I hope he didn't win a lot of money from you." He touched Mr. Mason on the hand. It stayed there. "I play golf a little, Daddy is teaching me, but I am not anything as good as he is. I haven't played in two weeks. Swim practice takes up a whole lot of time."

"He actually can hit the ball, Will, but right now swimming has all his attention. Sometimes we hit a few together, and play when the course isn't busy. As the proud father, I'd really like him to get serious about the game one day." Mitch tousled his son's hair.

"Daddy, you know I'm not very good," said the boy. He put both arms around his father's waist. He pressed in. His father bent down and kissed him on the top of his head. "My best thing is that I can hit the ball straight! I can play tomorrow. No practice." He once again addressed the object of his interest. "Daddy, wants me to be good. Do you want to play too?" He smiled winningly at Mr. Mason. It had begun.

"I don't know, Nicky, I don't think we can play tomorrow. One day off is about all I can manage."

"I don't know, Mitch. I think we should think about it. I'd love to play a round with Nick. I'm sure we can find someone in the office to take tomorrow afternoon's meeting. Those meetings are so boring, all nuts, no bolts. I vote for playing tomorrow if the weather is good."

Nicky beamed. "Oh, boy! This is awesome. Daddy, I'll play well, and I promise I won't hold you up, I promise." He thought, "He likes me." Things had begun well. "Mr. Mason, do you have a handicap? Daddy's is 3." He wasn't sure what that meant exactly but, he knew he didn't have a handicap.

"I do have one, Nick, but I am embarrassed to tell you what it is. It's a secret."

"I bet it's a good one. I bet you're almost as good as Daddy. I'm a much better swimmer."

Mitch rejoined the conversation. "Mr. Mason and I are going to have a drink of the terrace and then I thought we could take him to the club for dinner. I know that we were going to have a home alone evening, but it's my treat at the club."

"Daddy, it's always your treat!" The 'I'll treat' line was one of their private jokes. Nicky smiled brightly up at his father. He wrapped his arm around his father's thigh again. It was a not so subtle signal that he owned his father, that he was his and his alone. And he loved the feel of his father's firm, well-muscled thigh. "Manuel left dinner for us, but it's not my favorite. It's vegetable lasagna. The boy wrinkled his nose. He smiled at Mr. Mason again. "If it is your treat, Daddy, I'm on. I can change in a jiff."

"That sounds like a plan. The club it is. And then I have homework and I know you have homework, Buddy."

Will Mason was clearly charmed by the lovely boy. "We'll try not to bore you, he said.

"Oh, no, I want to go. The club has very good hamburgers. I'll be ready in a minute. I have to put on better clothes." With a backward glance at Mr. Mason, Nick scampered down the hall to change into proper club clothes.

"And that Will, is my son. He is very, very dear to me. Now, how about a drink?"

"He is charming, and a real ball of fire. Obviously you are doing a great job with him and he adores you. I'll have a Stoli on the rocks, splash of Perrier or whatever you have."

That evening at the club Nicky sat between the two handsome men in the Grill Room. They might have been three generations of the same family. They were three very fine looking men, dining together in that casual but elegant room. Their table sat right in a large picture window on the 18th green. The late afternoon sun, low in the sky, raked beams of warm light across them. It lit the them perfectly. Nicky remained politely quiet while the two adults reviewed the next day's meeting. In 20 minutes they were done. Mr. Mason turned to Nicky. It was time to put business aside and enjoy this delightful little boy. "So you swim too?"

"Yes, sir. I'm a free styler. Coach says I have to learn back and breast but I am not very interested in them. I love free style! I won today, twice. That's what I wanted to tell you, Daddy." In the slanting sunlight the boy's eyes danced. Mitch Perry beamed.

Mr. Mason dropped a grenade into the conversation. "I see, free style. You may not believe this but a long time ago I swam in college."

Nicky was dumbfounded. "You did?! Wow. What did you swim?"

"I remember exactly. I swam the 100 free, the 200 free and the 400 IM."

"Gosh," Nick's eyes almost popped out of his head. "You were good."

"I was not that good, actually. But Yale wasn't that competitive so I went out and darned if they didn't want me. I really liked it. We weren't a very good team, but we had a good time trying."

"Gee no wonder you are in such good shape. Do you still swim?"

"Well, thank you. I'm afraid I'm not in the best shape either." He was nonplussed. No one had referred to his body as 'in shape" in years. This was a surprise. "I don't think I'm in great shape but, I'll take the complement."

They all laughed. Nick flashed another big wattage smile at the adored man. The boy shook his head emphatically. "You are too in good shape. You look like Daddy and he is in very good shape."

"To answer the second part of your question, no, I haven't really swum in years."

"I bet you're still good." Nicky had a not altogether innocent idea. It had come to him when Mr. Mason had said he used to be a swimmer. "If we play early tomorrow, that would leave time to go swimming. I'd really like that. The club has a good pool, not like Dolphin's, but it's good. We can go look at it after dinner. It's heated." The boy's mind churned. He wanted to swim with Daddy's handsome friend. And he wanted to do more, much more. Swimming was perfect. He was determined to get Mr. Mason in the pool.

"I'm afraid I don't have a suit."

"Daddy will lend you a suit or shorts, or something. Won't you Daddy/" Mitch shrugged. His son was singled minded. He had seen this creative problem solving often. He was proud to see his son thinking the problem through. He knew that Wilson did not stand a chance. He nodded and sat back to watch it unfold. "And if Daddy's doesn't have anything that fits, there's a Pro Shop, we can buy you a suit. I'd really like to have a real swimmer to swim with. I'd like that a whole lot."

The boy was too charming. "I haven't been swimming in a long time. I think I'd embarrass myself in front of you."

"Oh, no, you won't. I know that. Coach says, once you learn, you never ever forget how to swim. I bet you are good. You swam at Yale." Although he was not at all sure what Yale was, he knew what Penn was, his father had gone to Penn, but he had no idea about this 'Yale' place. Anyway it had to be okay when it came to swimming.

Randolph Wilson Mason IV laughed. He was entranced. "Okay, if you insist, it's a deal. But I don't want you to show me up. I don't think I could take that." He smiled across the table at Mitch. "Now, I'm on the spot." He addressed Nick. "I'm not going let you down. I guess we have a date. If you play golf with us, it's only fair that I go swimming with you."

"Nicky beamed. "Deal? I think we had better shake hands on that. Daddy you're the witness." He reached over to Mr. Mason and offered his hand. They shook. The man's hand felt as good to the boy as it had when they first met. Perhaps it felt better. His interest in and desire for Wilson Mason only grew.

"Mitch, I guess now we have to play hooky. I just wrote that Memo." The two men laughed. Nicky was a little boy in man heaven. Seated between his father and this man who he had just met, he could not have been happier.

Nicky placed his hand on Mr. Mason's again. "I think we have to shake hands again. We're going to play golf and then go swimming. You promise?"

"If the weather is good, I promise." He crossed his heart with his free hand.

Nick could scarcely contain himself. He was visibly excited. He regathered himself "After dinner, I'll show you the pool."

"And then we have homework, Sport."

"I know, Daddy, but first let's have dinner and then I want to show Mr. Mason the pool and then homework." He was so excited. Little did the two men know how excited he was.

At home that evening after Nick had done his homework, right before bedtime, he casually asked his father about his friend. "He's not exactly Daddy's friend. He's one of Daddy's bosses. Mr. Mason's grandfather was a founding partner in the firm Daddy works for. He is a senior partner, so Daddy works for him. He is a very, very nice man and, he is a very good lawyer."

"I think he is very nice too. I bet he's a good golfer."

"I know he likes you a whole lot, sweetie. Who couldn't like my Nick? And I know he is looking forward to tomorrow. Promise, Daddy you will go easy on him in the pool. We don't want to get Daddy fired." They both laughed. Mitch kissed his son on the back of the neck. He blew. It tickled. Nick laughed again.

Nicky asked several more general questions about the object of his interest. In short order he learned that Mr. Mason lived in Seattle, Washington. Seattle was the firm's home office. Their biggest client was Boeing, but many other companies employed the huge firm. Mr. Mason was a 'senior senior' partner of the firm. Mason, Allworth and Smith had been founded by his grandfather. He wore a wedding band so, he knew he was married. That mattered not at all to him. Nicky asked about his family. His father knew that Mr. Mason had two sons. Daddy was sure that they were a lot older than Nick. He was sure that they were out of college. Nick digested it all. He had many more questions but didn't think it was a good idea to press his father. He had enough information. He knew that Mr. Mason was very good looking, he was very nice, he played golf, and he was interested in Nick. He could not wait until the next afternoon. Before lights out he and his father looked at Google Earth and found Seattle. Nicky wondered what it was like? As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of Mr. Mason's handsome face.

At 2:15 in the afternoon his father texted him. "Call me when you can."

"High, Daddy. I'm home dressed and ready to go!"

"I have a bit of bad news. I cannot skip out. I have to stay in the office for the next meeting."

Nick's heart sank. He struggled. "Oh, Daddy, I understand." He paused. The bottom had dropped out. He had assumed that the plan was set. He had counted on it. Now the plan had vaporized. He did not want to sound overly disappointed. "Maybe we can play tomorrow?"

"Well, how about this? Your lawyer father has a solution that just might save the day. Mr. Mason doesn't have to be at this meeting. So he is thinking, and I agree, how about this? He will pick you up at 3:00 and you two play together. Besides, you have a date to go swimming that I'm not invited to. There is no reason to scratch the whole day. You two should play. I'll catch you guys up later after your swim. How's that sound? Your Tee time is 3:15. Why don't you and he play? You okay with that?"

The boy literally could not believe his ears. "Oh, Daddy! I can do that! I'll be ready at the end of the driveway. I have my clubs all ready to go. You sure you can't come, Daddy?" As much as the boy adored his father, he sincerely hoped that he would not join them. Bitter disappointment had been transformed into triumph. Nicky flushed with pleasure. "I'll play well! I promise!"

"I know you will. I don't have to tell you that Mr. Mason is our guest at the club. You are his host. Make sure you introduce him if you run into any of Daddy's friends. I think Fred is playing with Charlie this afternoon. Hold on. Mr. Mason is right here. I just told him you two are a 'go.' I don't want you to wait at the end of the drive. He will be there at 3 o'clock. Mr. Mason says he is looking forward to seeing you again. Be a good boy, and make Daddy proud."

"Oh, I will Daddy. This is a lot of responsibility." His father laughed and told Wilson Mason what his son had said. They both laughed. "See you later."

"Bye, Daddy."

Nick simply could not believe his luck. Everything had changed for the worse, then the skies had cleared and everything was much better again. He was astonished and excited by the new possibilities the afternoon held. The ante had been raised by an order of 10. He had forgotten to ask if Mr. Mason had a bathing suit. If he didn't, they would buy one in the Pro Shop. They were going swimming. One way or the other he was going to see Mr. Mason in a bathing suit. Golf was okay, swimming was another thing all together. The pool offered the best place for the sort of close encounter Nicky knew he wanted. The pool was his 'office' and foreplay and seduction were his business. The pool offered the perfect cover for the kind of intimacy Nicky hoped to initiate. Nicky was very sure that the man would respond. The anticipation was unbearable. The clock crept ahead at a glacial pace. He spent 45 minutes trying not to think of Mr. Mason in a bathing suit and a lot less.

As a backup he asked Manuel for his help. He explained the bathing suit problem. They went into his father's room in search of a suit. In short order they found one. Nicky held it up. It swam around his waist. It was perfect, short, not much to it. He carefully folded it and put it in the side pocket of his golf bag. He was covered. There could be no excuse for not going for a swim after golf. At 2:40 Nicky could stand it no longer. He said Good bye to Manuel and went and sat on the front steps of the house. His golf bag lay on the stoop beside him. The minutes dragged like hours. Finally at 2:55 he saw a black Mercedes coupe turn into the driveway. He jumped up and grabbed his clubs. The car pulled up. He ran over and opened the door before Mr. Mason could open it. "Hi, I have my clubs. I'm ready." He beamed at the man. Mr. Mason was more wonderful than he had remembered. Nicky was dazzled. His father's colleague was dressed in black golf slacks, a navy blue polo shirt and black loafers. He wore a smart Hermes black snake skin belt. Nicky thought him perfectly dressed for golf and perfect in every other way. The boy wore a pair of adorable red Gap Kids pants, a white Polo shirt and tiny black NikeSport shoes with white stripes. Nicky shook his hand again.

"I see you're ready. We're both on time, so let's get your clubs into the trunk and hit it." He took the boy's miniature black leather golf bag and lifted it into the trunk.

Nicky deposited himself right beside Mr. Mason in the roadster's shot gun seat. He did not need to be reminded about his seat belt. He turned towards him. He had a very handsome profile. "I'm so excited. I couldn't sleep last night."

"You couldn't? This is supposed to be fun. Why couldn't you sleep?"

The boy spoke simply, as only he could. "I wanted to see you again." He dropped his eyes. "I think you are very nice. And I wanted to play golf with you. Did you bring a swim suit? That's part of our deal, you know."

They both laughed, Mr. Mason perhaps a bit uneasily. "Yes, I did. I had one of the secretaries find me one on her lunch hour. I haven't even looked at it. I hope it fits."

"Oh, well I brought one of Daddy's just in case. It's in my golf bag."

"You schemer!" Mr. Mason reached over and tousled Nicky's hair. "We have a deal. I would not stand you up."

In 10 minutes they arrived at the club. They deposited their bags on the First Tee. "Daddy always says you need to take a pit stop before you Tee off. The bathroom is in the Golf Shop. I think it's a good idea." As they walked to the Golf Shop Nicky took Mr. Mason's hand in his. Wilson, in turn, was more charmed by the boy than ever. In the Golf Shop Nick introduced Mr. Mason to the resident pro. "He is Daddy's friend and his boss, I think. I want him to be my friend too. I think he can really hit the ball. But he says he only average. I know he isn't." He emphasized the word 'average.' Mason's heart melted.

At the First Tee, they were both nervous. They tried to disguise that from each other. Mason was more so. He was on the spot. Nicky expected him to be a good golfer. He had to live up to the boy's expectations of him. He had to hit a great drive or lose a lot of credibility with the boy. He addressed the ball, shook his shoulders out and exhaled. He thought, "This is crazy. He's just a little boy. And how many drives have you hit? Relax!" But it did matter, it mattered a great deal. He breathed deeply again, he concentrated. Slowly he drew the club back and whipped through the ball. He cracked a drive right down the middle of the fairway. The tension in him dissipated. He was relieved and he felt that he had just won the Masters. The ball rolled to a stop 255 yards down the fairway in perfect position for a five iron to the green over the hillock.

"Gosh," said Nicky. It pleased Nicky that he was a good golfer. "I don't think I can come close to that." They smiled at each other. Mr. Mason had torn the hide off the ball. He had hit a perfect drive. Mason was relieved.

The boy, simply too adorable for words, teed up his ball and addressed it. He wasn't nervous at all. He adjusted the brim on his little golf cap. He addressed the ball again, and with perfect form, drew back his driver, paused and launched the ball square off his club face. The ball rolled to a stop 105 yards down the center of the fairway.

"Are you sure you're not a pro? I think you were conning me. I'm glad we aren't playing for money." They laughed and high fived. The tension was well and fully broken. Nicky hopped into the cart. As they drove down the fairway, Nick caught sideways glances at Mr. Mason. Mr. Mason's face was grave, focused, reserved. Nicky was beyond happy to be with him riding down the first fairway on a lovely spring afternoon. It was perfect. Mr. Mason was perfect. As they played they began to talk. Well, irrepressible Nicky talked, about golf, swimming, his father, their life together. Slowly Mr. Mason well and truly began to relax. He surrendered to the boy's enthusiasms, to his beauty to his charm. Mason marveled at the ease with which the boy conducted himself. He was guileless, he was extroverted, he was charming. He marveled at how lively he was. Nicky could have disarmed anyone. Mr. Mason was no exception. As they played, Mason began to respond to the boy's warmth. They talked and as they talked they became ever more at ease with each other. They talked about everything. Nicky was particularly interested in Seattle, and Mr. Mason's sons and what he did in Seattle. Mason for his part was frank with the boy. He explained that his sons were each out of college. One was in Costa Rica, the other in China. He did not hear from them often. They had never been a close family. His wife, Caroline, Mrs. Mason was often away. She had many interests that took her off to travel and visit friends. He often found himself home alone for long stretches. Nicky noted this. Mason spoke with the utmost sincerity and frankness to the little boy.

"You should not be alone." He put his hand on Mr. Mason's. He looked at him with earnest sincerity. "That's not right. Daddy likes you so much, and so do it. You must come and stay with us. We would like that. I know I would. I would really like that." They exchanged glances. Mason smiled at the boy's honesty.

They played on to the third green. Observing Nicky addressing his difficult putt, Mr. Mason offered a suggestion. "I don't want to say anything, your Dad is doing a great job teaching you the game, but you might try this on the green. Let me show you." The man stood behind Nicky as he bent over his putter. He took his arms and wrapped them around the boy's own thin arms. Nicky almost swooned. Mason bent his head over the boy. Nicky could smell him. He smelled fresh and clean and he wanted to touch him. Mason drew the boy's arms back. "Try holding your arms steady at the elbow. Lock but don't tense. It's tricky. Keep your arms loose but locked, and then swing softly through the ball." They practiced the motion. "How's that feel?"

"It feels good." He did not lie. He was intoxicated. The nearness of Mr. Mason, the intimacy of it all, was almost too much for the boy. He looked at the arms that encircled him. He wanted to touch them. He could feel Mr. Mason's legs behind his. They practiced the motion again together. Nicky relaxed.

"Let's sink this," whispered Mr. Mason. They swung through the arc of the putt again, together. The ball left the putter and in a slow lazy arc rolled towards the hole. The ball almost stopped a half inch [1 cm] short, but continued and dropped softly into the cup. Nicky had sunk a 12 ft. [3½ m] putt. He was almost speechless, not quite, but almost.

"Look it went in. It went in! A smile wreathed his face. He dropped his putter and embraced Mr. Mason around the legs. Mason patted his back, at first tentatively and then again. His hand lingered on the boy's back. "You did it, not me. It was all you."

Nicky was very excited. "We did it. Come on, let's get to the next green. I'll need another lesson!"

They played the last of the front Nine, both relaxing more and enjoying themselves more as they played. Mason, for his part, was simply enchanted by the boy. He had already commented to himself on the boy's beauty but his charm also worked its magic. He, in turn, knew the boy was very taken with him. He could feel it in their every interaction. "Was it hero worship?" he wondered. He was flattered. He had not had such attention paid to him in years. He had not felt such an intensity of interest from anyone since the early days of his marriage. He wondered about his feeling. "What was going on here?" He relaxed, laughing. His reserve fell away. He was smitten with the little boy. He began to enjoy himself as he had not for a very long time. He played better, he felt the ball better. He did not resist the gentle touching, the reassurances of the boy's small hands as they cheered each other on. He found the physical intimacy delicious. He did not resist when their bodies brushed against each other. It was so unselfconscious, so innocent that he enjoyed it and in fact he encouraged it. This feeling was simply wonderfully new to him. He had not experienced such physical closeness in years and it felt good. He appreciated that the boy clearly liked him. He was indeed flattered and gratified by Nick's attentions. That such a precious little boy appreciated him was indeed gratifying. He began to feel like the man Nicky saw in him. He could not help but be happy. He felt younger, and happier, and yes more desirable than he could remember feeling. He in no way discouraged Nicky's attentions. Nicky for his part gave Mason tacit permission to touch him. Such gentle interaction encouraged a growing bond between them. Their delicate game of seduction continued as they rode up to the ninth green. It was getting on to 5 o'clock. The trees cast long shadows across the golf course. The hour grew later. Their intimacy and familiarity with each other grew as the shadows did. They sank their last putts. They had both played well. They were very happy, happy in the game, happy in each other's company, happy in the intimacy they had developed. The day remained theirs and theirs alone. But for the sole exception of his relationship with his father, Nicky had never experienced anything like it. It had been a magical round of golf. There was a slight nip in the March air. The boy shivered.

"You're cold. I have a sweater in my bag." Mason drew a folded navy blue alpaca cardigan sweater from his bag. "It's big but I don't think we should worry about that." He knelt down on the green and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders. Let's get your arms through. That's it." He drew the boy close to him. They faced each other at eye level. Nick looked gravely into Mr. Mason's eyes. "Here, let's roll up those sleeves." They needed considerable rolling. The sweater hung down to the boy's calves. As Wilson adjusted the sweater, Nicky pressed against him.

"Thanks. That feels warm." He stroked the sweater against his cheek. "It's so soft, and it smells like you.

"Is that OK?"

"Yes, I feel warmer and, I like you a lot." Nicky stroked the man's cheek. "I think you very nice. You are the nicest one of Daddy's friends I have ever met. I hope you won't go away to Seattle soon."

Mason blushed. He dropped his head. He could not speak. He felt something very special about this wonderful child. It was a feeling that he had not experienced in many, many years. He wanted to wrap this boy in his arms, to protect him from every hurt, to make him safe. He understood the magic of the child and knew why his father loved him so deeply. He wanted to kiss him, tenderly, but he refrained. Slowly he stood up. "So how about a drink? Something warm, I think."

"Yes, but you haven't forgotten that we are going swimming before we meet Daddy?"

"No, I remembered. We have a deal and a deal is a deal. Sure it's not too cold?" The boy shook his head. They grabbed their golf bags, slung them over their shoulders and walked slowly towards the Club House. They talked golf intimately between themselves, just the two of them. They laughed when they rehashed some great shots. Nick pressed against Wilson in the most intimate way. The man was happy that the boy felt free enough to want to be so close to him.

At the Club House they ordered drinks. Mason suggested hot chocolate. Nicky liked that idea. He gave his car keys to the attendant and asked him to put their clubs in the trunk. They took their drinks and walked down to the men's locker. Mason felt awkward again. He did not wish to the break the magical spell that enveloped them. But he had no plan for this delicate moment. Things were about to get more intimate. He had not planned for this. They had to change into their suits. Nicky came to his aid. "The towels are over here. We can take as many as we want." He grabbed a stack. They proceeded to his father's locker. "Mitchell T. Perry" was engraved on a small brass plague on the door. We can leave our things here. You don't have to lock it or anything."

Slowly, awkwardly Mason began to undress. He was clearly uncomfortable. He was in turmoil. He was so taken with the boy. Something wonderful had happened. He had not imagined that what had passed between them could have happened. Yet it did happen. He felt a charge that bordered on the sexual. He tried to explain it and rationalize it to himself. What had passed between them was simply the boy's high enthusiasm for life. It had happened in the moment and was the product of a particular time and place only. The lovely boy in his innocence could not express himself otherwise. He had been raised to express himself in a loving way. He had only expressed his friendship as he felt it. It was thrilling but it was nothing more. Yet to Mason knew that something more had happened. He felt that something unmistakably sexual had happened between them. Something awakened in him, a long dormant sexual urge stirred in him. He was in turmoil and tried mightily to dismiss his own thoughts. And now here he was undressing in front of this delicious little boy. He was indeed very nervous and had every reason to be. Nicky studiously ignored him. He pretended not to notice the situation. He raced along and unselfconsciously stripped down and jumped into his suit. Mason could not help but note his lovely body. Seeing his confidence and lack of modesty, Mason tried to imitate the boy, but clearly he was very uncomfortable. Nicky understood. Since he had initiated what had happened, he felt for the man. Mason was struggling.

Well practiced in the art of locker room voyeurism Nicky decided to take pity on this divine man. If Mr. Mason was not comfortable, he would give him a way out. "I'm ready," he said brightly. I'm gonna run to the bathroom. Daddy says you must never pee in the pool. I'll be right back." His pretty little bum in its tiny red and blue Speedo brushed Mason's boxer-clad ass he scooted around him. "Be right back." Mason was relieved. He quickly stripped down, and pulled a jock strap from his kit. Balancing on one foot he hopped into it and pulled it up. He adjusted his cock and sack in the pouch. He tried to minimize his assets. Then he decided not to and readjusted his package, he looked down. He adjusted his cock so that it lay almost horizontal in his jock.

"Not bad," he thought. He was being ridiculous. "Stop this!" He hurriedly pulled on the blue and orange print jams. He had them on backwards. Frustrated, he stripped down and just as Nick rounded the corner he pulled them up around his waist. Nicky had caught sight of his ass. He liked what he saw. Mason was still nervous. He stood barefoot next to the bench, vulnerable. He could not help but hope he measured up. He very much wanted to measure up. He felt vulnerable, almost naked and very exposed. Nick noted his fine thin body, and his lack of body hair. He noticed the slightly slack belly, his long thin legs. He pretended that he had seen nothing. He pretended that only the pool and swimming mattered.

"Let's take our towels." He led the way out the door. They walked barefooted up the path to the pool. Neither said anything. Mason was tense. He walked very erectly, like a marionette. He had not been seriously in the water in years. As they neared the pool, Nicky broke away and ran ahead. He dipped his foot in. He threw his towel on a chair. "It's nice. Come on! I'm going in." A splash erupted from the pool. Mason dropped his towel beside the boy's and stood awkwardly at the side of the pool. Nicky had surfaced. He brushed the hair from his eyes. "Come on. It's great."

"Ok, I'm coming in." The boy waved him on. With a push Mason sprang off the pool coping and dived cleanly into the water. In a second he surfaced beside the boy. "Say's you. It's cold!" They both laughed.

"No, its warm. The water at Dolphin is 10 times colder." The boy bobbed down and came up between Mason's legs. "He grabbed them. The man did not shy away. "This is the best. Let's swim to the deep end."

"Ok. I hope I make it."

"It's only 20 meters [60 ft.]! Let's go. Nicky struck out for the deep end. His stroke was sure, his breathing even and efficient. He swam beautifully. Mason, not to be left behind, struck out after him. His stroke too was fluid. He felt like a rock, but he was not to be outdone by the boy. He had his pride. He let Nicky hold the lead. They reached the deep end. Nicky grabbed the coping and boosted himself up. He waited for his friend to catch up. Mason took his last stroke, grabbed the coping and gasped.

"I'm way out of shape. You're an ace swimmer!" Nicky glowed with excitement.

"Thanks. I practice hard. Coach is teaching me the flip turn. All good swimmers do it," he said emphatically. "You swim down to the other end and I'll come after and show you."

Mason did as he was told. Nicky watched the man's stroke. He looked good but not great. Mason made it to the end and signaled Nicky to come on. The boy pushed off and with graceful strokes quickly covered the distance. When he got to the end, he ducked his head and flipped. It was not very successful. The boy came up and frowned. "I can do it better."

"Naw, that was great. We didn't do a flip turn in my day. You're way ahead of me on that one. You'll teach me. I want to learn." The boy's face brightened again. Mason could not resist his impulse of the moment. In a spontaneous move he scooped Nick into his arms. The boy was transported. Mason felt his excitement. He enjoyed contributing to it. Nick put his arms around his friend. He looked into his eyes. The water reflected and intensified their blue color. They has softened, they were warm and inquisitive. Nicky looked at his chest. He liked what he saw. He put his hand on his left pec. "I like you so much. I want to play golf and swim with you. You know you are very handsome." Mason did not know what to say. He held the boy close. His heart beat rapidly. Solemnly the boy reached up and kissed him on the lips. "I think you are almost as wonderful as Daddy. Almost, well, mostly almost." The boy cast his eyes down prettily. Mason was nonplussed but he recovered.

"You know I like you too. A whole lot." Nicky smiled and laid his head on his chest.

" I like you so much. I want to kiss you again. And I want to touch you." He gently pushed his little boy crotch into Mason's stomach. "You are so handsome and so nice. I want to touch you like this." He played with the man's smooth chest. He ran his hand lightly across it.

Mason could not say, "No." He could not say that it was impossible. The boy had cast a spell over him. He could only say that he wanted it too. He returned the boy's kiss. "I want it too. But you are such a little boy. I 3; " His voice trailed off.

"I kissed Coach. He kissed me back. I want to kiss you the same way." And I want to be with you. The boy looked up, his eyes were frank. He did not plead. Mason began to understand. The boy was not without experience with men. He relaxed a bit.

"Your Coach kissed you?"

"Yes, he did. And I kissed him back. And it felt good. But it wasn't like wanting to kiss you."

"I see." Mason could not stand still in the water. Slowly he began to spin them around in circles in the pool. The conversation was so intimate, so startling, so unexpected that he had to do something. "You want to kiss me?" The boy nodded again. "What else did you do with Coach."

"Well, we kissed." The boy was suddenly bashful. He blushed. "We kissed, and then I touched him and he touched me. I liked it, but I like you better."

"Well, what should we do about that?" Mason couldn't believe he was saying such things to an 8 year old boy.

"I think we should kiss. Not here, but somewhere." Tears filled the boy's eyes. He clung tighter to Mason. He looked with pleading eyes into the man's face. Mason stoked his thighs, he could not believe the sensual warmth that the boy exuded. He could feel him, close and warm. He rationalized. The boy knew what he was doing. He was lost.

"Does your father know this."

Nicky shook his head vehemently. "Oh, no! He wouldn't like it."

It occurred to Mason to ask. "And this does not happen with your father?"

Nicky appeared shocked. "No! Daddy is my Daddy. No. It only happened with Coach and I feel the same thing with you only a whole lot more. I want to touch you. Please."

"Well, we're touching now."

"No," the boy said evenly. "I mean more. Coach and I touched a lot more." The boy placed his hands on Mason's arms and backed away from the man who held him. Mason was chagrinned; he was chagrinned that they were having this conversation and he was torn that the boy was pushing away from him. What they were doing was wrong, but he did not want it to end. Perhaps he had been too negative and Nicky had changed his mind. That idea was confirmed when the boy struck out and swam away. Mason was in turmoil. He should have been relieved that reason had raised its head, but he wanted to touch Nicky, to hold him, and to kiss him as they had just kissed. He wanted it too. After the boy had swum 5 meters [15 ft.] away he turned, took a breath and dived under the water. Mason saw the boy approaching under water. Nick blasted out of the water right in front of him. He placed is hands on the man's thighs. He felt further up. Mason flinched slightly but said not a word. Nothing needed to be said. Nicky placed his hand deliberately on Mason's crotch. He could feel the man's jock strap, he could feel the wide knit ribs in its pouch. His hand pressed against his man sex. It stayed there. He felt Mason's cock stir. He felt it straining against the pouch of the jock. He felt it grow longer. He loved touching that most private and thrilling place. Since he had broken off with Coach, he had not touched another man. And now he was touching this man, and he was happy. Mason let it happen. Nicky reached up and stroked the man's face. "We touched like that. But we don't do it anymore. You feel so good. I think you are beautiful and, I want to touch you here." He caressed Mason's now fully erect cock."

"Why don't you do that anymore with Coach?" whispered Mason.

The boy fumbled. "I didn't want to anymore, that's all."

"Did Coach do anything bad?"

The boy was puzzled. "We didn't do anything bad. I liked Coach a lot. But he is my Coach and I didn't want to do it anymore. I want to touch you like we touched; only I want it more." The boy was nothing if not frank.

"I'm not sure we can do that."

"I know you're not supposed to. Coach told me that too. I don't know why we aren't supposed to. Some things I don't understand." He had thought about this problem and it genuinely puzzled him as did the problem of 'bad.' "I would never tell. Not Daddy or anyone. I never told anyone but you about Coach. I don't think it's bad. I think it feels good. And I like you so much."

Now it was for Mason to shake his head. "Nicky, I want to but it is simply impossible. Men are not supposed to touch little boys."

"We're touching right now it and I like it and I know," he emphasized that word, "I know you like it. See, I can feel you and I know that means you like it and I think you like me." He put his hand more firmly on Mason's basket. The man sported a raging hard on. His cock was as stiff as a flag pole. Nicky ran his finger along its length, slowly sensuously. "I'm sure you like me."

Mason felt as though he had been slammed by a truck head on. His mind reeled. This was simply impossible. His mind raced in overdrive. "This is not what I expected." He forced a hollow laugh. "You're such a little guy and I am old enough to be your grandfather.

"Gee, I never had a grandfather. I don't know what that is like. Grandfathers couldn't be like you. They are old. I never thought a grandfather could be handsome and as nice as you are. I don't think you're a grandfather." He paused. He was trying to puzzle things out. "I was just waiting for my Daddy and I didn't expect 3; .." His voice trailed off. He was near tears. "I don't see why we can't touch? I promise I won't say anything. And I think we should kiss too."

"Well, here's the deal. Let me think about this."

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Not long, I hope. I think you have to go home soon. That isn't fair." Two huge tears welled up in his eyes. They spilled over and rolled down his cheeks, great liquid spheres. Mason was startled. Of all the impossible things that had happened that afternoon, he had not expected this. He was totally disarmed. He melted.

"Don't cry, precious sweetheart. I promise, we'll figure this out. It will be okay. I do like you so much." He had to be careful. Love was too extreme a word. Given what had happened 'like' was an inadequate word, but it was all he had. He had not thought of such things, much less used the words like 'like' and 'love' in so long he had lost them. "I do like you; you know that."

"You promise? I don't want you to go away. I want you to stay and if you go away I'll never kiss you." The boy struggled to stop crying. "I'll be so good. And I promise I won't tell anyone."

Mason was speechless. "I think we had better head up the locker room. Your father will be coming to meet up soon." They both remembered Nick's father.

"Ok, but don't forget about figuring things out. You promised."

The moment was too fraught with suggestive heat, too serious, too alarming. The tension had to break. It had happened so fast. The situation had spun way out of control before he had even known there was a situation. He was a man used to being in control. He was clearly not in control nor was he fully cognizant of what had transpired. He was dazed. He was not in control of himself or the situation or his of emotions. Reluctantly Mason pulled away. The boy looked stricken.

"It will be okay. I promise you. Now, give me a big hug, and let's be big guys together and go meet your dad." Nicky understood this and he understood the word 'together.' He liked that. If he could not have what he wanted the most at that every moment, he could be together with the object of his infatuation. He liked that.

Mason put his hands around Nick's the waist and boosted him out of the water. The boy ran for their towels. As Mason lifted himself out, Nicky could not help but notice the fine sinew and taut physicality of his upper body. The man's chest muscles tensed. They toweled off in silence. As much as he wanted to touch the boy, Mason was wary of such intimacy in so exposed a place. They had taken too many risks as it was. Anyone could have seen them. They had made a lucky escape.

"You ready?" Mason wrapped his towel around his stomach. He could not resist. He bent down and helped Nicky wrap a voluminous towel around his middle. He caressed his shoulders and back. Nicky leaned into him. He whispered in his ear. "I like you so much. You promised." Nothing more had to be said. "Let's go." As they walked up the path, Nicky took his hand. Mason did not resist.

In the Men's Locker, Mason's modesty and awkwardness returned. The dynamic had changed drastically in the pool, but he was remained wary and even shy. He was especially so given the sexually charged afternoon. Things had been said, things that would shock even the most sexually liberal devotee of unorthodox sexual expression. What was implied in their exchange was staggering. Because of the nature of their most intimate, and for the boy, honest declaration of feelings, Mason was made more nervous by Nicky's close proximity. Because of what had been said, Nicky was very aware of his friend's reticence. Somehow a careful ballet of modesty, nudity and evasion got them showered and dressed and ready to meet Mitchell Perry. Wilson Mason had been more reticent than the boy, but Nicky also felt the strain between them. Mason felt completely off balance. He wanted so to touch the boy, to have their easy initial exchange continue, but things had been said. Things had changed. The half hour they spent in the locker room was an agony for him. Nicky tried to understand but the awkward silences upset him. When they were finally dressed Mason could bear it no longer. He knelt down beside the locker. Nicky looked into his eyes pleading.

Mason took the boy by the shoulders. He found it difficult to say anything. The boy was so young and so fragile, so innocent. He could not bear causing him confusion or upset. "You know how much I like you. But I think this is newer to me than it is to you. I can only tell you now that I like you and want to be your friend, more than I think you know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me like this, nothing like it ever." He drew the boy to him. Nick melted into his arms. He turned his mouth up towards Wilson. Wilson leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. Nicky's mouth gave way. He responded happily and willingly. It was a kiss of passion and promise. They lingered. Nicky kissed him again.

"I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting to touch you and be with you. I may be only a little boy, but I know I like you so much. Wanting to kiss you isn't bad. It's good. You are the nicest man I have ever met. I want to be with you." He gazed into the man's eyes. He stroked his face with his pretty hand.

"I will do my best, sweetheart. I will for us." Nicky brightened. The critical moment had passed. He trusted Will. He trusted that he would find a way. "Now, let me look at you. He straightened the boy's collar. "You are very handsome. He smoothed the boy's hair. Nicky hugged him tightly. He put his arms around him and kissed him again. It was a real kiss. Mason's responded. His lips gave way to the boy's. He felt an electric sexual jolt. They had crossed the line.

"Now let's go meet your father." Nicky took his back pack. Will took his bag. They headed upstairs to meet the boy's father.

"I can't wait to tell Daddy about our day. I made a lot of good putts." Nicky smiled at Will. He took his hand and they went upstairs to meet his father for dinner.

They waited in the Grill Room for Mitchell. Nick had a ginger ale. "I've been thinking, do you have a name I can call you. We're friends and I don't think 'Mister Anything' is what I want to call you." He whispered, "And we kissed. I want to call you something else." Nick touched Mr. Mason's knee.

"Well, let's see. My full name is Randolph Wilson Mason the Fourth. What part of that might you like to call me? My friends call me Will.

"I heard Daddy call you that. I'd like to call you Will too."

"Let's see, how about Uncle Will?"

"No, you're not my uncle. I have an uncle. He lives somewhere. Besides you're my friend, and I kissed you and you kissed me, and you're not my uncle. Daddies and uncles are not like the way I think about you. I don't think you want to touch uncles." They boy's logic was impeccable.

"I would be honored to have you call me Will." Nicky was about to respond. He put his hand to the boy's lips in the most intimate and possessive way. "There is one thing. I think I have to run that by your father before we give it the final okay. Let me take care of this. And may I call you Nicky?"

"Yes, you already call me Nick." They laughed. "I like you so much," he whispered conspiratorially. He was perfectly happy to let Will take care of things. The boy trusted him completely. He trusted that he would figure things out so that they could be together and he trusted him to get his father's permission to call him by his first name. "And don't forget the part about figuring things out." Wilson Mason was on the hot seat. He would have to figure things out.

Just as they agreed to the name 'Will' for Mr. Mason, Nicky spied his father entering the restaurant. "Daddy's here!" Mitchell had come directly from the office. He wore a white shirt, a dark blue an lavender striped silk tie and a grey worsted suit. He looked crisp and cool and his usual handsome self. "Daddy! We had the best, best day. Will, can really hit the ball, he's very good and, he gave me a putting lesson. I sank a 12 foot putt [3½ m] on the Third Green!" His father reached over and kissed his son.

He shook Will Mason's hand. "Thank you for this afternoon."

"Believe me, it was my pleasure. We had a ball. We played nine holes and then I kept that promise to go swimming. A promise is a promise. Nicky is also a very good swimmer. I was sure he was. We had a great day." The emotional intensity of the later part of the day was put aside. Mason preferred not to think about the

wrenching feelings that had come to the surface, interrupting their idyll. The day retained its perfect gloss. I had been a wonderful afternoon, and in their minds, even with what had happened, it was.

"Wow, what did I miss? And what is this with 'Will?'" He looked at his son. Mason stepped in and quickly explained that they had had a talk and had come up with a simple solution. He had given Nicky full permission to call him Will. They had played around with a lot of variations but they thought that the name all his friends used was the best. And it was logical. "In fact it was my idea." He winked at Nicky. While Mitchell was not convinced, he thought it was not properly respectful and too familiar, he reluctantly agreed to allow Nicky to call his very new friend Will. In some families such familiarity was taken for granted. Of course, they were not a family, but since they had so obviously bonded and they both seemed comfortable with calling Mr. Mason 'Will,' he let it stand.

"Are you sure? Nick can be awfully persuasive. You can rethink that."

"No, we like it, the both of us. And besides, friends usually call each other by their first names." That settled it.

Mitchell ordered a drink. They talked over their cocktails and then ordered a very relaxed dinner. They discussed business, the Boeing case. They reviewed the round of golf, hole by hole. Nicky, in his excitement, stood to show his father his putting stroke. He looked to Will for approval which he readily gave. Mitchell was pleased that both his son and Will were animated and happy about their afternoon together. It was clear that they had had a wonderful time. He was gratified that Mason recognized in his son the same qualities that he so loved. And for his part Nicky was clearly star struck. The boy seemed enamored of the older man. Mitchell thought it adorable.

After dinner Mitch invited Will back to the house for a drink. Nick rode with his father. His enthusiasm could hardly be contained. At the house, his father reminded Nicky that it was bedtime. "Come get Daddy when you have put on your PJs and don't forget to wash everything. And your teeth. Come and get me and I'll tuck you in."

"He is something. I had a ball, and I am amazed. He can real wale on a ball. And of course, once again I have to compliment you. He is charming."

"He is all of those things and more to me. He gives my life purpose. I can't imagine my life without him. We have only each other. Sometimes, I think Nicky and I are too close, too alone and too isolated. We really are very happy with each other. I know I am with him. He doesn't really have friends his own age. I have talked to a therapist. He told me not to worry about a problem that doesn't exist. I have tried not to. He seems happy but, I do worry." Mitchell was frank. "That's why I am so glad to see that he obviously likes you so much. I'm glad to see that you two had a good time. I think it's a good thing for him to meet other people and have time away from me. I worry that he needs the experience of other men. I worry that we are just too close. It has a lot to do with me. We live in a world is just us two. I don't think it is very realistic. Because it's just the two of us, and that he has all my attention, I have a real concern that he may become spoiled, more than he probably already is. I adore him and he is the focus of my life, totally. I want to make everything right for him, all the time. But in the real world that isn't possible. The upshot is that what I am trying to say is that I am so glad he has taken to you. You may run for the hills, or Seattle, but I saw it in his eyes. He thinks you are IT right now. I promise you I'm not jealous. So don't worry about that." Mitch finished his stream of conscious monologue. "I would not say being a single dad is the easiest thing in the world. I don't want to make a mistake. I think of that too often. I don't know, perhaps I do spoil him."

"I don't think loving a child, your child, can ever be called 'spoiling.' He is entirely a loving and wonderful child, honest to a fault sometimes, but 3; I don't think you should give your parenting skills another thought. You are doing something right; otherwise he would not be the child he is. I am completely flattered that he does like me. I haven't felt this way in years. Life in Seattle can be rather dull. Nicky is a shot in the arm."

Given the tenor of the conversation, Mason saw an opening and took it. "I live the life of a hermit. My kids are gone, I actually do not know where they are exactly, and I confess I don't much care. Caroline is otherwise engaged and not often at home either, travelling, visiting, being the silly woman she is. I live in a big house with three in help 3; alone. How's that for fun? I don't feel sorry for myself. It is the life I have. But I also think we all have our fates in our own hands. I have thought about that but had not done anything to act on it. Today, yesterday, have woken me up. It has been a real jolt. Today was just, well, exhilarating. I had the best time seeing things through your son's eyes and it was amazing. Nick's enthusiasms are contagious. I feel a million years younger. That isn't exactly true. I'd never let him know but, I almost died swimming two lengths of the pool." He shook his head and laughed. "So what I am saying is 'thank you.' It was a privilege and I'd like to do it again. As old as I am, I feel a hell of a lot younger tonight." He paused. "I would never impinge in any way on your relationship and your prerogatives as his father, but I would love to know him better. I would be very careful."

Mitch smiled. "He can take it out of you. Its 14/7/365 with him. I'm used to it. You did not have to do what you did. Nicky is so happy and that makes me happy. Please, more golf lessons. I think you might be able to get him to give up a few laps for a round or two of golf. I'm a bit selfish. I am very proud of his game and I can't help but day dream."

"I doubt that I can have any effect on him whatsoever. He is a very determined swimmer. But I'm happy to give it a try. Speaking of, and you can tell me to go take a leap but," he paused and took a sip of his drink "there is a pool at the Four Seasons. Perhaps you two could come for a swim tomorrow." he paused. "I was thinking tomorrow afternoon. Come over when you like. I have work in the morning. But the afternoon is completely open. If you don't want to come, Nicky can come over whenever, we can have a swim and, then I would like to take you as my guests for dinner at the hotel. Now that I know what I'm up against, I think I can keep up for a few hours. And a good night's sleep should help a lot."

"We both know exactly what he's going to say. Who am I to stand in the way of you two guys?" Mitch had no idea what he was saying, none at all. "I think it is an imposition to take him on for the whole afternoon. But we can only ask him. You know he is going to jump out of his skin. He'll be so excited. It will give me a few hours in the afternoon at the office. I could drop him by on my way in. If it is not too much trouble, this is a great idea and a big help to me."

Nicky listened as the new plan was laid out. And he did practically jump out of his skin. It being Saturday he had no school, no practice, no nothing. The date was set. "Now to bed. It's late for you, Buddy." The boy went over to shake hands with his new friend.

"I think we can do better than that. How about a hug good night?" Nicky beamed. He put his arms around Will's neck. "Thank you for just everything." He pressed in between his legs. It felt so good. He kept his hands where they were supposed to be. He wanted more. He whispered, "And thank you for tomorrow. I can't wait. May I kiss you good night?" He kissed Will chastely on the cheek. Will turned to petroleum jelly.

"To bed, now!"

"Yes, Daddy, I know. Let's see Mr. Mason, 'er 3; Will 3; to the door."

Nicky and his father waved as Mason disappeared down the driveway. It had been some day.

Nicky opened his eyes. The early morning sun filtered though his bedroom window. It was 7:30. He lay in bed thinking that he would see Will again and he would see him alone. He had kept his promise. He could barely contain his excitement. He did not want to wake his father. He lay in bed thinking about Will, thinking about the afternoon to come, what he looked like completely naked. At 8 o'clock he stole into his father's darkened room and slid into bed beside him. His father stirred.

"Good morning, sweetie. Sleep well?" Nick snuggled up beside his father. His father turned and drew him close. He wrapped his arms around him.

"Yes, Daddy. I did. Daddy, I was thinking. I'd like to give Will a present."

His father murmured, "You would? What sort of present?"

"Well, I was thinking he doesn't have any goggles and you need those if you are a real swimmer. And he doesn't have a real bathing suit."

"He does have a bathing suit. What did he wear yesterday?"

"He doesn't have a real swimmer's bathing suit. Real swimmers wear Speedos." To his completely unsuspecting father, coming as it did, the statement was innocent enough. Nicky, of course, had an ulterior motive. He wanted Will to wear a Speedo when they went swimming. Speedos were very sexy and he liked what they revealed of a man, his package, his ass, more of him. He wanted it and he would have his way.

Drowsily, lazily his father asked, "I wonder what Will is going to have to say about that? How do you propose we accomplish this?"

"It's easy. We can stop on the way at the CrestWave Swim Shop. They have everything."

"Ok," sounds totally do-able. How are we going to get the size right?"

"That's easy Daddy, he's your size only a little bigger, I think."

"Ok, got it." Mitch drew his son closer. He adjusted the blankets. Soon Nick could feel his father's gentle breathing on his neck. That had gone very well. He had a seemingly innocent plan that would get him what he wanted, Will in a revealing official bathing suit, one that would give him everything he wanted. He lay close and intimate and happy next to his father. In a few hours he would be seeing Will and a little while later he would kiss him and touch him and play with him as he had wanted to the first time he had seen him. That was a long time ago, he thought. In the quiet of the bedroom, he snuggled into his father's side and thought of his new friend. It was going to be a long 'few hours' but, right now he was content to feel his father's breath on his shoulder and to think about his friend in a Speedo.

Wilson Mason had spent a difficult night and morning. He had returned to his hotel room to think about what had happened. He was in turmoil. His thoughts were confusing, his feelings conflicted. He could barely understand what had happened that afternoon on the golf course and in the pool. His feelings were inchoate. He certainly had no solution to the insurmountable problem that he faced. What he was thinking was so morally reprehensible, so off the chart, that he found it impossible to give his thoughts any credence. He was shocked that he was even faced with the dilemma that engulfed him. In his wildest dreams he had never thought that such a situation would present itself to him. He had no reference moral reference point whatsoever for dealing with the problem he faced. That he was even contemplating such a moral dilemma was shocking enough but the fact that he was even weighing the pros and cons of the situation in his mind was even more so. He tried reason. How had this come to pass? He reviewed the last 26 hours. He carefully parsed the events of the last day. What exactly had transpired between them? What evidence did he have to support what he thought had occurred? What exactly had been said? He focused his formidable lawyerly skills on the problem. Every time he ran head on a simple unavoidable reality. He was intrigued and flattered and infatuated by this precocious little boy.

Whatever and however he looked at the problem he was simply infatuated with the boy and he ached to reciprocate the boy's too clearly stated desires. When he thought of him his cock hardened and he ached for contact with him. He wanted him, he ached to kiss him and touch him. His emotions were indeed in turmoil. In a nanosecond he seesawed between disbelief, denial, and back to shocked disbelief. Raw desire, desire to touch and kiss this precious little boy reared its head. It trumped all reason. His moral turmoil had nothing to do with Faust. He did not wrestle with the devil over his immortal soul. There was no Faust. This fight existed within his soul and nowhere else. He wrestled with himself and himself alone. He was locked in combat with himself. At times he thought he might be going mad.

Randolph Wilson Mason recognized that all those years without love, without the touch or caress or concern of another person were a factor in the conflict that raged within him. That a child could awaken such passion in him stunned him. That the boy could awaken his deepest desires and light fires in him he had thought long dead shocked him. It was futile to deny what had happened. He had spent the last 15 years in denial, denial of his own needs and his own longings. He had relegated his feelings to a closed cell, locked away in his brain. Nicky had unlocked that cold dark place and the need he had long suppressed came welling up. It was real and his feelings were real. He had been reawakened to a world of sexual desire and passion and need by this sweet boy. His sexual urges, having lain so dormant for so many years, engulfed him. Whatever the clear moral course should have been, he struggled against what his cock wanted. Sex could be had anywhere, he thought. But Nicky could not. And that was the problem. He was miserable, lost. The desire was simply too great. The sound and the fury of his long dormant sexuality engulfed him. It washed over him. He knew that if given the chance he would abandon all and that he would take the boy and return his kisses, fondle him, love him for the beautiful boy he was. He had not felt anything for so long. That desire should return in the form of an eight year-old boy shocked him beyond measure. Years of pent up emotion, years of longing flooded over him. It was almost too overwhelming. He knew that he was lost.

At 3AM he stood in the shower. He tried to clear his mind and to think. As the water flooded over him, he broke down. He cried. His body convulsed. He slid down to the floor of the shower, the water cascaded over him and he wept. He knew that if he could, he would kiss and love that sweet boy. Whatever the consequences, he would respond to Nick's overt expression of desire for him. He desired him back, he desired to kiss and touch him, touch him in his most private places, to touch his sweet little boy crotch, to put his hand on his cock, to stroke it, to caress his boy nuts and to kiss him there and on his lips and beautiful shoulders. He knew he had surrendered. He wanted sex with Nick. Nick had won. His growing passion ruled. He had indeed lost the war that raged within. He ached to kiss Nick. He soaped his hand and ran it across his chest. He felt his pecs, his belly. He closed his eyes and thought of beautiful Nick. He ran his hand down to his crotch. He slid his hand under his balls and hefted them in his hand. His cock pulsed. It stood straight up almost to his belly button. It was long and straight. Its head was engorged with hot blood. It was large and pink and hot. He took his cock in his hand. He stroked his stiff cock, once, twice, he could feel the cum, he could feel the need for the boy, he could feel the cum in his balls. He stroked his hot cock, and thought of Nick's lips, of his shoulders. He could smell his shampoo. He tensed. He stopped. Calmer, relieved that the storm had subsided, he turned off the water and dried himself off. He knew that he had made his decision. His thoughts turned only on images of that lovely little boy and of how he would kiss him and hold him and make love to him. He turned out the lights and got into bed. The struggle had exhausted him. He actually slept until 8:30 in the morning. He woke up and he knew that he had thrown his moral compass overboard.

At 9:00 he went downstairs and had coffee in the atrium of the Garden Court. He tried to read the papers. He went upstairs to check his email. And then he decided to go for a swim. He swam 20 laps and felt better, clearer, more focused. His swim had been exhilarating. He could not wait to tell Nick. He steamed and went upstairs and did showered and shaved. The hours dragged. At 12:00 he called the Perry's. He gathered himself up. He called to confirm the hour of Nick's arrival. But he really called because he had to, his need to hear Nicky's voice to interact with him on any level, was too great. A call, whatever the lame excuse, would have to do. On the phone he tried to hide his anxiety. He forced it down, and pushed it away. It was a short performance. Paranoia crept in. He did not dare to ask to speak to the boy. Perhaps the boy's father suspected something? Nick asked to speak to him. They had a short, seemingly normal conversation. Both were good actors, the boy's ability came naturally, Will's from long hours as a litigator. They hung up. That had been silly and unsatisfactory. There was work to be done but, he could not focus on it. At 2:30 he changed into a Ralph Lauren black and white striped Polo shirt and a pair of handsome plain front medium grey linen slacks. "Enough." He said to himself. He would just go and wait in the lobby. He took the paper and found a seat near the Check-In desk facing the portico. His pulse raced. He tried mightily to contain his excitement and his still churning anxiety. He took a deep breath and gathered himself together. It had been a long, long night. He had made his decision, his fate was sealed.

At 3PM sharp Nick's father's silver grey BMW T-Top coupe pulled into the porte-cochere of the Four Seasons. They had hardly pulled to a stop before Nicky jumped out. He held a small blue shopping bag in his hand. It was tied with an orange ribbon. He hefted his little Prada back pack over his shoulder. Before his father could catch up to him he had run through the glass doors of the Four Seasons. He stopped and looked around. He spied Will who had seen them drive up. The excited boy ran over to him. "I'm here!"

"Hey, I see you are." He laughed. They smiled at each other. Will Mason knelt down. They hugged.

"Daddy's coming in. He wants to say Hi before he goes to the office.

"I see you brought your bag. You have everything you need"

"Yes," Nick could not contain himself. "And I bought you something!" He waved the small blue bag with the orange ribbon. "It's a present."

"It is? You brought me a present?"

"Yes, But I am saving it for later. I hope you like it."

Just then Mitchell Perry arrived. "Hi, as you can see he so excited to be spending the afternoon with you. He's all yours." Little did he know what he said. "Nicky, you be very good, just as we talked about in the car. Will, I can't thank you enough. You know how I appreciate this."

"It is my pleasure. We're going to have a great afternoon. I tested the water this morning."

"You did?" exclaimed the boy.

"Yep, and I swam 20 laps. You got me going, Nick." They all beamed. "Let's say we get to it. I have to put on my suit."

"I have mine in my backpack."

"Ok, so you guys are set. I'll call you later for dinner. Have a great afternoon. I think I'm envious."

"Daddy, we're going to be doing laps and working out. And besides you know I love you the most, even if I like Will a whole, whole lot too."

Mitch shook Will's hand, gave him the eye, meaning he's all yours now, and turned and left.

"So Nick, what say we change and go for a swim? I think you'll like the pool. It's not as big as the club pool, but it is big enough. And last time I looked there was no one in it."

"Ok, we have to go up to your room. And I want to give you your present."

Nicky took Will's hand. He charged ahead. "Which way?" When they go to the elevator, Nicky asked him for the floor and punched the UP button and the Close Door button. They were alone. Nicky looked up at Will. He reached up. "We didn't kiss yet." Will knelt down. "I missed you." They kissed. The man returned the boy's kiss in full, openly. The declaration had been made again, confirmed and sealed with a real kiss. Mason held the boy close in front of him as they counted the floors.

When they reached the room, Will fumbled the room card. Nick entered ahead of him. When he heard the door close he turned around, dropped his bag and rushed into the older man's arms. He looked up at him adoringly. Neither made any pretense about what they wanted. Will scooped him up. They said not a word. Urgency drove them. They kissed and kissed again. Both mouths yielded to the sweet taste of the other. Nicky had dreamed of kissing this man, of touching him. He had wanted to touch him since he had first seen him in the kitchen. They hungrily explored each other. Nicky smothered Will in kisses. He kissed his cheeks; he ran his fingers over his lips, his face. He kissed his beautiful lips. He looked into his lover's eyes. He caressed his hair. "I want us to be together. I want us to do this."

Will abandoned any reserve. His cock was stiff, a rigid maypole of desire. It pushed against his slacks. He had not felt so alive, so full of desire, in so many years. And now the lips of this boy, his lovely body awakened in him all his long dormant desire. He abandoned himself to his feelings. His urge to make love to the boy was everything. Nothing else mattered. He was lost and, he was happy. He greedily returned Nick's kisses, kiss for kiss. He held the boy in his strong arms. He carried him into the room. Nicky wrapped his legs around his waist. Will shifted and cradled Nicky's sweet little boy bum in his forearm and, with his free hand he explored his chest, that chest that he had so desired to touch in the pool at the club. In the privacy of the hotel room, they were free, and they felt no misapprehension or misgivings. They were free to express themselves fully and completely. Yesterday's seduction meant completion today. Will flashed on the previous day in the pool and he knew that what he had felt then was true now. He wanted to make real love, love with this underage, perfectly beautiful little boy. Never had he felt such an urgent need. Each kiss, each caress sent a charge through him. They kissed and, they kissed again. His man mouth almost subsumed the boy's. Nicky moaned. His head fell back leaving his lovely thin neck exposed. Will kissed that lovely boy's neck; he ran his tongue up it and down from his ear lobe to his shoulder. The boy shivered. He sucked on the boy's pretty perfect chin. Nick moaned again. The boy opened his eyes. He gazed with wide trusting eyes at Will. He said nothing. Open-mouthed he explored his handsome older lover's mouth. He ran his tongue along his teeth. Their mutual desire led them on. It was Will's turn to moan.

"Feel me. Please touch me. I want to feel your hands on me. Nick pushed away from Will's chest. He pulled his shirt up revealing his tight boy torso, his thin taut abdominals, his pretty, smooth belly. He took Will's hand and placed it on his chest.

"Touch me here." Will's hand shook. Nicky took his man hand in his own and guided it lower, lower until it rested on that place between his legs. "I know I can't do what you can do, but I like you so much. This happens." Will stroked the boy's crotch. He felt his small hard pee pee inside his pants. It was rigid. He felt its short shaft. He felt Nick's dick head. He could have cum right there. Nicky smiled. "See, you make me happy." He put his hand over Will's hand again. He held it there. "I like you and 3;" He kissed the man again.

Will's body shivered. "Oh, god, I can't tell you what you feel like." Nicky smiled. His hands explored the older man's chest. He felt his taut pecs, he knew that he was smooth underneath his shirt. He too had longed to touch him as Will had longed to touch him. He wanted to explore, and to touch him everywhere. "I want to see you. I want to see you without your shirt on. Please, take your shirt off. I want to see you more. I want to see you with no clothes on. I want to kiss you and I want to touch your cock." Nicky knew what mature men were about. Coach had taught him well. He knew what he wanted and he knew the words. He wanted with Will what he had had with Coach. He would have him as he had had Coach. He was grateful to Coach, and how he wanted to use his knowledge to know this man. The boy reached his arms out and stroked Will's face. "You're so 3; you know I think you are so handsome. You are." His voice trailed off. His eyes were lost in the man.

Will kissed him again softly tenderly. "Sweetheart, I want you too." He set him gently down on the edge of the bed. Nicky stared as he straightened to his full height. He lifted his arms up and stretched. In one smooth motion he grabbed the tail of his shirt and pulled it over his head. His chest and stomach were bare and fully exposed. He threw the shirt into the corner. Nicky gazed at the brown man hair in his armpits. He wanted to kiss him there. Will stood in front of him. He whispered, "Do you like me?"

"Oh, yes, I do and I liked you yesterday in the pool. I liked you the day before that in the kitchen." He in turn lifted his arms up and pulled his own little shirt off. Mason had seen the boy without a shirt but this was completely different. He knew now that he would have that beautiful boy chest, that the promise of his beauty would be his to have. He would caress that flat boy tummy; he would kiss it and have it. This was overt, this was real and it was sex. His confidence grew. He knew that his own passion and desire were fully reciprocated. This was consensual sex between a man and a boy. Nicky slowly lay back on the bed, his legs dangled over the edge of the bed. He gazed at Will. He rose again, supporting himself on his elbows. He spread his little legs apart. He invited Will to come to him. Mason knelt in front of him. He looked at him and with the boy's tacit, silent assent he brushed his lips against his belly. The clean fresh smell of the boy intoxicated him. Nicky watched transfixed. He in turn reached for Will's handsome head, his beautiful grey hair and he stroked him. Will hungrily kissed up Nick's chest, past the small crease where his pecs and torso met. He supported himself on his lower arms. His hands shook.

Nicky reached for Will's chest. He found his nipples. Experience had taught him how sensitive they were. They were beautiful to the boy. They were young looking; they had a flat round aureole circumscribing them. They were pink and very erect. With his left hand he caressed his chest. With the other he gently stroked his left nipple. Will kissed Nick's chest, he ran his tongue across it. He felt his delicious smooth flesh against his lips. He buried his face in the center of his chest. Nicky squirmed. It was almost too much. The boy released his hand and reached down and blindly began to unbuckle his little Ralph Lauren belt. Will sat back. He tried to help. He covered the boy's hands with his own as they both fumbled to undo his belt. They were overly eager. Together they unclasped he buckle. Will slowly unzipped the boy's fly. Nicky raised up as Will pulled his little khakis down his legs and off him. The boy lying on the bed gazed up at him in rapt silence. He invited more. Nicky offered himself to Will. His beauty, his allure had never been so apparent as in this transcendent moment. He was offering himself to the man who stood above him. Nicky's smooth, satiny, hairless legs were beautiful. They were lovely. Will caressed his thighs with the back of his hands. The boy wore a pair of adorable royal blue BambiBoy briefs printed with red and yellow balloons. They were banded in pale blue. His excited little cock stood out against the crotch of his panties. Its outline was unmistakably there, inviting Will to remove his pretty little briefs and touch him and fondle his sweet little cock and his smooth pink balls.

"See how much I like you? My peter is so hard. You make my thing so hard. Do I make you hard? I want to see your cock." The boy full well knew the answer. He stared at the evidence in Will's tented slacks but, he wanted the proof. He wanted to touch Will's hot cock and, he wanted to rub it and play with it and make him shoot a load of hot cum. He sat up. Will drew near to him. Wordlessly Nicky reached for his belt and hurriedly pulled and tugged. He undid the buckle. Will stood frozen looking down at him. He stroked the child's lovely soft golden brown hair. He was transfixed. Nicky unzipped his pants and spread the fly open. With both small hands he reached in and felt Will's rigid cock. It was long and as hard as steel. He felt it his cock. It was not as big around as Coach's but it was 7" [18 cm] of hard man rod. Will shuddered. He dropped his pants down to his thighs. Nicky drew Will's stiff man meat from the encumbering folds of his boxers.

"It's beautiful. You have a beautiful cock." He traced his thumb around his large perfectly cut cock head. The pee slit oozed precum. Nicky loved precum, he knew what to do with it. It was now his turn to be transfixed. He stared at Will's cock. It was beautiful. It was long and smooth and perfect. He bent forward. Will caught his head between his hands. Nicky shook his head. He wanted to taste Will's man cock. He had fantasized about what he was about to do and he would not be put off. "I want you," he whispered. Will could not believe what was happening. He withdrew his hands. Nicky bent forward and took the tip of the man's engorged cock into his mouth. His wet mouth bathed the head of Will's not hard cock. He took more. Will could barely stand. He bent forward. He kissed the boy on the top of his head. Nicky continued to slowly take his cock into his mouth. Will moaned. He stepped back. Nicky looked up at him.

"No, you're gonna make me shoot. You're so sexy. You know what a beautiful boy you are?"

Nicky moved forward again. He pushed Will's slacks down. He looped his boxer shorts in his thumb and pushed them off his hips. Will's rock hard, stiff cock got hooked in the folds of his shorts. Nicky took it in his hand and held it while Will urgently pushed his boxers down. With one hand he balanced on Nicky's shoulder, he stepped out of his slacks and boxers and kicked them aside. He was naked, he felt exposed, which he was, and vulnerable. He stood in front of the boy. Nicky sat back and stared at the man. He looked at Will's crotch. Will's cock was hard, erect and beautiful. It wasn't as big as Coach's rod, but it was beautiful, smooth and he wanted to taste it again. The man's smooth, heavy ball sack hung free between his legs. His nuts were big, manly, juiced. Nicky knew that they held his man load of cum. Will's balls begged to be played with. Nicky wanted that too. Will stood before him naked. His eyes begged for Nicky to say it was ok, that he was ok, that the boy still desired him.

"You're so handsome and you look like you did yesterday, but better. I thought you were so handsome but you are more 3;" His voice trailed off. He finished the sentence by reaching for the man. He begged him to come to him. His hand caressed his smooth belly. He held Will's rod in one hand and with the other he felt his dense crotch hair. Since he had none, man hair always interested him. It fascinated him. Everything about men interested him, but man hair, pubic hair was so different. It made men men, very different from little boys. He saw that Will was very different from Coach in this regard also, Coach was very hairy. Will was so much smoother. His pubic bush of light brown hair was dense above and around his cock but unlike Coach his thighs were not hairy. Nor was his belly. Will's pubic hair covered just his lower belly above his crotch. It extended in a wispy trail up to his belly button. His lower belly was less taut than Coach's but it was flat. Will's thighs were smooth down almost to his knees. His calves were slightly downed in light brown hair. His chest was as smooth as his belly. Nicky had touched it. He wanted to touch it again. The boy sat further back on the bed. He took Will's hands in his and drew him closer. He lay back on the bed.

"Kiss me, please, I want to feel you, I want to feel your mouth."

Will came to him and slowly raised himself up onto the bed. He mounted the bed and the boy. His body covered the boy's. He lowered himself over the child until his chest was just inches away from the boy's face. Nicky stroked his nipples; he lifted up and kissed him on the chest. He lay down on his back again, looking up at the man. Will could have cum then and there. Nicky eyes told him everything he needed to know. His lips slowly met Nicky's. He lowered himself gently onto the boy's body. They lay, boy to man, lovely boy to handsome man and their bodies met. The kissed hungrily. Will ground his hard cock against the boy's belly. Nicky moaned. He returned Will's urgency with his own. He felt his man cock against his belly. Their urgency and desire exploded. They kissed longer, deeper, hotter, heavier. Will wanted to consume the boy. His full weight pressed against him and pressed the boy deeper into the bed. His thrusting hips urged his cock towards release. They kissed, wet and open mouthed. Nicky stoked his lover's neck, his pecs, his back. He only desired more and an extra set of hands. He wanted to feel, to touch to caress, every part of this man, this man who he had waited two days to touch. Their kisses were hot. They mouths merged. Open mouthed Nicky felt the man's sweet wet hot breath. Will tensed. Nicky knew that he was about to cum. He did not discourage him, he urged him on with more slow deep hot kisses. He wanted Will's load on him. Will tensed, raised up and arched his back.

"I'm gonna do it. I can't stop. I'm going to shoot. Oh 3; oh!" Nicky knew he was going to shoot. He wanted it, he wanted Will's hot load on his stomach. It was happening. He felt Will's hot rod against his smooth little belly and knew that he was going to shoot a steamy load onto is stomach. Will pumped his cock against Nicky's pretty flat belly. And then he exploded hot jizz onto his boy lover. He shot a heavy load of hot cum onto Nicky's belly. Their frantic kissing ceased. Will rose up on his elbows and shot again. More cum shot from is cock. Everything stopped. They were frozen, silent. Will opened his eyes. Nicky stared at him. They were together, alone together. They both knew that they had had wonderful hot sex. Their first sex had been everything and more it was supposed to be. It was right and it was hot. It had been between them and them alone. It was theirs and theirs alone. They felt it. They had had hot sex, sex driven by the piston of desire, the boy for the handsome man and the man for the lovely, sexy boy who lay under hm. Their attraction had been consummated. Nicky was quietly ecstatic. Neither said a word, not a sound. Neither had to. Neither wanted to. Nicky stroked Will's chest softly, gently. The silence was beautiful. They had spoken everything to each other in that hotel room. It was complete. Their passion for each other lay on Nicky's belly. Will had deposited his passion on the boy's belly and Nick was very happy. And so was Will Mason.

Will glanced at the clock on the bedside table. They had barely been in the room for 45 minutes and everything had changed. Everything. They lay there. They relaxed. Post coital warmth washed over them. Nicky felt Will's cum, trickle down his side. Will kissed his shoulder. Nick's fingers played across Will's lips, the dimple in his upper lip. Another rivulet of cum trickled down his side. Will rolled over onto his side. Nicky faced him. He touched Will's belly. He dipped his fingers into his man cum. He spread it over Will's stomach and then he spread it over his own. While he did not know the sensation of ejaculation, he knew its power and he knew what it signified. He loved the evidence of man-boy love making.

"Will?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?" Will kissed him.

"Did you like that?" Nicky rolled over. Will followed. The boy climbed onto Will and placed his head against his chest. "I hope you like me."

"I do. Yes, you have to know that. We both know what happened." He stroked the boy's soft hair. "I like you so much. I think we both know that. I know I do."

"Good, because except for Daddy, I love you just about the most. I like kissing you and I don't want to stop."

"Well, then I guess we won't because I like kissing you too. I think I have to show you again." He tilted Nicky's angelic face up towards his. Their lips met. They remained locked together. "You see, that has to tell you that I love you too." They said nothing. Both lay on the bed Nicky lay on top of Will. They said nothing. The seconds ticked. Will wrapped his arms around the boy. The boy's thin, sleek body felt new and exciting, against his. His cock stirred. He softly caressed the boy's lovely back. Their eyes shut. Time ticked. Will opened his eyes with a start. What time was it? He panicked. How long had they been asleep? He craned is neck and looked at the clock. They had been asleep 20 minutes.

"Hey, sweetie," he whispered in his ear. He blew into Nicky's ear.

"Yes," the boy answered drowsily.

"We have to get up. We have to go swimming. Your father will be coming in an hour and a half. We have to go swimming." They stirred.

Nicky lifted off his lover's body. He looked at the dried cum on his belly. "I think we have to wash off. You have cum all over your stomach, and look at me. I don't think we can go swimming like this. Let's wash up together."

"Will rolled over and got up. "Come on then. To the shower with us!" He picked Nicky up and walked towards the bathroom. "Let's get cleaned up." They kissed.

Will stood in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Let's shake it." He smiled at the boy who was just emerging buck naked from the bathroom. "Let's get our suits on." Nicky stopped.

"Oh, I almost forgot! My present. Where is it?" He scrambled and found it beside the bed. Will sat on the bed.

"A present for me?" Nick handed him the blue bag. Will peeked. "Goggles!"

"If you're gonna be a swimmer you need those. I brought mine. And there's something else."

Will dug deeper. He withdrew a navy blue size 38 Speedo racing suit from the bag. It had a pair of white stripes running down each side. He held it up. He looked quizzically at Nicky. "You got this for me? I'm supposed to wear this?"

"Yes, you have to. Real swimmers wear Speedos. We held it up to Daddy in the store. It's a little bigger than Daddy so it should fit. Try it on."

"I dunno. I don't think I can wear this."

Nicky was crestfallen. "Why? It's pretty and Daddy said if there was one you might like, that was it."

"Well Nicky, my body isn't quite as good as yours. I don't think it will look good on me. I dunno."

"Yes, it will." The boy, who had just experienced that body, knew it would look great. "You don't like the color." His face grew solemn. He had bought it for Will especially.

"No, I love the color but, I'm a lot older than you are. Older guys don't wear Speedos."

"Yes they do, the Master Swimmers at Dolphin wear them and they look great. Try it on."

Will reluctantly got up. He shook his head. "Ok, only for you would I try this on." He stepped into the Speedo, tags and all. He pulled it up over his hips to his waist. He pulled the strings and tied them in a bow. They strings pinched his waist. Will thought that he looked like a tube of toothpaste. It was not very flattering and it left him feeling naked.

Nicky laughed. "No, not like that." This time it was for him to shake his head. He stood in front of Will and with proprietarial ease and intimate confidence he untied the strings. "Like this. He pulled the waist of the suit down well below Will's belly button. He yanked the suit down on his hips. He pulled the front of the suit out and put his hand in. He lifted Will's balls into the pouch of the suit. Will stared in disbelief. This he thought is the consequence of their intimacy. He surrendered. His dick stirred. "No, not now," laughed Nicky. "We're supposed to go swimming."

He stepped back. "That's how it's supposed to look. Turn around, please." Will did. Nicky surveyed the man's ass, which in the heat of their recent coupling had gotten no attention and not one look. He lowered the back slightly. "He placed his hands on Will's hips and swiveled him around to face him. "Now, when you're all set, you just tie the strings like this. I like them inside."

Will looked into the mirror. He had to admit that it looked a lot better. He looked as though he might pass as a semi-in shape guy. "So this is it, huh?"

"Yes, now you look like a swimmer." Nicky scrambled into his own navy blue Speedo. It was not by accident that he had picked blue for Will. They put on their shorts and T shirts. They stood in the door. They kissed again. They had a quiet moment. Their first time together was coming to a close. Never again would they experience that first time. Nicky whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"We'll talk about that. Let's go swim, Mr. Swimmer Guy."

They went swimming that afternoon. Their new intimacy and their familiarity with each other caused them to relax and to enjoy each other. Anxiety floated away into the water. Nicky was in his usual high spirits, perhaps more so. Will felt himself relax as he had not in years. Everything had indeed changed. They laughed and splashed and swam, they raced. They did cannonballs. Will won. Nicky pushed him in and jumped in after him. Laughter echoed under the pool canopy. They were blissfully, fully happy. They were together and they had just had sex and they were happy. Anyone who saw them might have guessed that they were grandfather and grandson sharing a moment on a Saturday afternoon. But they were not. The world could never have guessed but they were now lovers, in the fullest sense of that term. They had had hot, satisfying man-boy sex. They knew each other and, post-coitus, were in equally happy spirits. Nicky whispered intimacies in Will's ear as they touched each other underwater. Their familiarity with each other gave them both immense pleasure. It excluded the world. They were one and happy. Nicky touched Will's cock. Will gave him a look. Nicky swam away laughing. It was that joyous an afternoon.

At 5PM they went upstairs to clean up and change. They showered together. In the hot steaming shower, Nicky jerked Will off. He shot all over Nicky's stomach. Reluctantly he watched the globs of cum swirl down the drain. He was blissfully, totally happy. He wanted more sex.

While they dressed, Will introduced a most serious subject. They discussed their secret and that as wonderful a secret as it was, they both could not tell anyone. If either did, they would not be able to see each other again. So secrecy was essential. Will explained that he did not like that, but that was the way it had to be. Nicky, who was all too well aware of what people thought of what they had done, agreed. He promised not ever to say anything. They pledged this to each other. Mitchell Perry's name was not even mentioned. They sat on the bed. Will put his damp head in Will's lap. Will stroked his cheek.

"Will I come over tomorrow? I want to see you tomorrow." He put his hand between Will's legs. He felt his cock.

"I have to go home tomorrow. My plane is in the afternoon." Nicky sat up startled.

"You mean all the way to Seattle." Will nodded. This also had to be discussed. Nicky sweet face clouded. He blinked his eyes. "That's a long way away. I won't see you, will I?"

"I have to go home." Tears welled up in Nicky's eyes. "Don't cry, sweetie. Don't cry. It'll be okay. I'll think of something."

"But you're going away." Large tears spilled over his lower lids. They rolled down his cheeks. This was the second time Will had made the boy cry. He hated seeing Nicky upset, and he hated the fact that he was the cause, two times now, for making little Nick cry. "So yesterday and the day before and today were just once, and you're going away." The boy buried his head in Will's lap. He sobbed. Will was at a loss. It was unbearable. Their magical afternoon could not end with the adored boy in tears. He had to think on his feet, quickly. He stroked Nick's hair.

"Remember yesterday, I said I would think of something. I did. We spent today together. I'll think of something again. I promise. You know I'm pretty upset too. I'm going to be very sad tomorrow."

Nicky sat up. His eyes were wet. His long black lashes glistened with tears. He wiped his tears. "Oh, no, I don't want you to be sad too. Me sad is bad, but I don't want you to be sad." He tried mightily to stop crying.

"I am sad, especially when you are. That's what happens when you like a little guy. But I don't want either of us to be sad. I'll think of something. Remember I found a way for us to be together today." Nicky nodded. He brightened. He knew the adored Will would find a way. The man continued, "But you have to promise me, you'll be very good while I think. We want to see each other and I have to think of a way to make that happen. It's going to take time. I want you to be a grown-up, big boy for me." Nicky nodded, anything for Will, he would try. "Is that a deal? We can shake on it. I'll find a way to see you as soon as I can."

"No, I don't want to shake. I want to kiss." Will laughed and bent down and snuggled his mouth into Nick's delectable neck. The boy turned his angelic face up to him. He waited for Will's lips. They kissed again, with all the passion had been unleashed in that room on that afternoon.

"I don't want your father to think that I've made you cry. That would not be good. Let's go wash up." They went into the bathroom. Will knelt down and washed the boy's face, and patted it dry. "There, that's better. He combed Nicky's hair. "Now, you look VERY handsome! You be brave and I promise, cross my heart, that I we will see each other very soon. OK? " The boy nodded. "Let's go downstairs." Reluctantly they left their cozy lair.

At 6PM they returned to the lobby to wait for Mitchell Perry. He had texted to say that he had left the office and was on the way. At 6:15 Mitch walked through the lobby doors. Nicky ran over to his father. Will hung back.

"You missed Daddy. We had the best afternoon, even better than yesterday. Will is getting to be a better swimmer."

Will Mason who had overheard this as he walked over said, "Oh, gee thanks, I think. You could give a guy a complex." Mitch shook his hand.

"You guys seem to have had a great day."

"We did, Daddy. But I think Will is hungry so let's go eat!"

They had dinner in the casual dining room off the winter garden. The evening was pleasant warm and casual, except of course for the fact that nothing was normal. No veneer of convivial casualness could lessen what had happened between Nick and Will. Will relaxed as the evening proceeded. He knew Mitchell Perry suspected nothing. They were safe. He hated having to think so deviously and be so wary but what had occurred was unforgivable, inconceivable, and he had to be wary. His paranoia was vital. He had to listen acutely for any signs that Mitch might have any inkling of what had happened. Self preservation meant that he had to remain keenly aware and sensitive to Nick's father. As his paranoia abated, he relaxed. He dismissed his thoughts and, as his confidence grew, he began to have a very good time. How could he not? He had had unbelievable sex with the most beautiful boy. He sat right there beside him. He adored him and for his part Will adored him back. He was a stud again, he had had two orgasms; he had been a great lover. He felt great. In the meantime he had made another promise to Nicky and he meant to keep it.

Just as the dinner plates were being cleared, he broached the subject that he had been turning over in his mind.

He addressed little Nick. "I bet you have spring vacation coming soon."

"Yes. It's in two weeks. Right Daddy?" He looked quizzically at his father. His father nodded.

"In two weeks? Really? Then, may I make a suggestion. Mitch, I want you to come out to Seattle. I need you for a week. The Boeing case needs you and I need you to take the lead. My office, that is me, wants to hand it over to you. I want you to come out and sit down with our team and with Boeing and review the case. I don't want any 'i's' undotted, 't's' uncrossed. You can't say no. Does that work for you?"

Mitch was shocked by the suddenness and casualness of the offer. He nodded. It was a great opportunity. He was not about to contradict his boss. He had always been ambitious. He had no intention of questioning his boss.

"Of course, I will do whatever you think is best. It is an important case. Butit is being handled out of your office. It is about as tight as it can get."

"It needs you and I want to back off. It's not what I should be doing. I have other things I should be spending my time on. We will work together of course. I'll always be available but, you've already done so much work on it I want you to take over." Mitch nodded again. He was flattered. The President and CEO of Mason, Allworth and Smith wanted him to take the case.

"That's settled?" He looked at Mitch for approval. "Right?" Mitch nodded and put his palms up. "Good."

"Of course."

"Then it is settled. So let me lay the rest out. Come out during Ace Swimmer here's spring break. "He nodded towards Nick. "And then my new friend can come also." Will looked at Nicky. "Does that work for you." He continued. "How'd you like to join your father and me, the three of us, for a week in Seattle. There's a lot to do. I have a house with no one in it but me. I'd love to have you come and stay with me." It took a minute for Nicky to understand what had been said. He turned to his father for confirmation and retranslation.

"Will is asking us if we would like to come and stay with him during your spring vacation. What do you think?"

Nicky lowered his eyes. He pretended to be coy. He pretended to mull the offer over. He looked up, first at his father, and then at Will. A wide, enormous smile wreathed his face. "Yes! Wow! We're going to go visit Will in Seattle!"

"That's about it. You up for that?" Will knew the answer.

"Yes! When?"

"In two weeks, actually 10 days. Let me check that." Mitch took his Blackberry from his pant pocket and consulted his calendar. "Yes, says right here that your vacation starts on the 20th and goes until the 28th. Does that work for you, Will?"

"Anything works for me. Please email that to Sylvia, so she can put it on my calendar and set things up. There is one other agenda item. Since you are going to be our lead lawyer, I think you need some credentials to back you up. You need to go into that courtroom with your guns blasting. I've thought about it and I'm promoting you Vice President and Partner. And I'm nominating you to the Board. I will clear this with the board before you arrive. But since I vote 64% of the shares I can fairly say it's a deal."

Mitch was stunned. Partner and VP and a seat on the Board. In two minutes he had jumped over every one of his class in the law firm, and then some. "All I can say right now is thank you." Nick did not know exactly what had happened, but he saw that his father was happy, that was very clear, and that made him happy.

"Say, no more. I will canvas the Board on Monday and take a vote. It will be announced on Wednesday. There will be a lot of work at the office, but I would not have done any of this if I did not know what a good lawyer you are." He turned to the object of all this ad hoc planning and of his latest subterfuge. "Nicky, I am looking forward to having you visit. I have a pool in the backyard and the country club has a covered pool. It can be pretty rainy in Seattle." He addressed Mitch. "Send your clubs ahead. We have two 18 hole courses. And of course, Nick I hope you will bring your clubs and play with us." Nick looked at Will as if he were a god.

"Two weeks, that's a long time," he thought, "two weeks and he would see his handsome friend and kiss him and touch him again."

The pleasant evening, with its unexpected, remarkable third act, ended on a very high note. Will took Nicky up stairs to get his back pack. When the door closed, he spoke. "What did I tell you, sweetie? I told you I'd make it OK. It's going to be a long two weeks, but we have to be patient."

"You did it. You always do it." They kissed. Nick expected that they would kiss. Will was grateful that he did. What had happened in that room 5 hours previously was real, it had happened. It was no dream and their mutual passion to touch and probe and feel each other intimately was real. Nicky's kisses were as hot and urgent as they had been. And so were Will's. Nicky unzipped his pants, Will protested, but he was determined to have what he wanted. He unzipped his pants, opened his boxers and played with his balls while be jerked him off.

They gathered Nicky's back pack and went downstairs to meet his father. When Will returned to his room, he went into the bathroom and saw that Nick had left his tiny blue Speedo on a hook. He held it up. "Could he really be that tiny?" he thought. He brought it to his face and smelled it. It was clean and fresh as his sweet boy was. It was as intoxicating as the boy himself was. He folded it carefully. It was the ultimate souvenir.

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