#1 Odd-job Boy
To earn the money for a school trip, 12-year-old Andy asks for any odd jobs he could do.
Andy (12yo) and the narrator (adult)
Mb – cons mast oral anal
Chapter 1
I was sitting in my living room one Saturday afternoon. It was around 6 pm and I was starting to think about cooking dinner for myself, when there was a knock at the front door. I opened the door and standing there was a twelve year old boy, with straight brown hair and a pleasant enough looking face.
"Hello," he said. "I'm trying to earn enough money to pay for a school trip. Do you have any odd jobs I could do?"
"No, I'm sorry, but I don't," I replied.
"I only need another $5 and I have to get it before 6.30, when I have to be home. Are you sure you don't have anything I can do? I will do anything," the boy pleaded.
Was this my dream come true? But no, I couldn't possibly, it would be such a stupid risk.
"You want to be careful about offering to strangers to do anything. There are some strange men out there who might ask you to do something you really don't want to do," I warned.
"Like what?"
"Well, what if a man offered you $5 for you to give him a kiss?"
The boy hesitated and looked down in thought. After a minute he looked up into my eyes. There was a hint of some expression in his face. Was it disgust, resolve, something else? I couldn't be sure.
"OK, I would do that," he said.
The ball was now in my court. Would I take him up on his offer? How could I dare take the risk; how could I possibly turn down what will probably be my only chance ever to kiss a 12 year old boy? It was now my turn to hesitate, then I stood back from the door.
"Why don't you come inside."
The boy stepped inside, then followed me as I closed the door and walked into the living room. I turned to face him and he stopped.
"Come here," I said and he stepped closer.
I loosely wrapped my arms around his shoulders and bent to kiss him on the lips. I gently pressed my lips to his, which were firmly closed. Then I opened my mouth and ran my tongue over his lips. I felt the boy stiffen and so did I. Only, it was my cock that became hard, while it was the boy's whole body that went rigid in surprise, and perhaps even shock at this unexpected assault on him. Well, what did he expect from kissing a strange, in both senses of the word, man? My kiss was brief, then I released the boy. He stepped back and looked at me warily.
"Good," I said. "Here's the money for your school trip." And I got $5 from my pocket and gave it to him.
After the boy left, I thought that while I didn't know what odd jobs the boy thought was going to do in less than half an hour to earn his $5, I was sure that he got more than he bargained for. Now was it time to cook dinner? Like hell, first I had to pull down my pants and have a good wank over the memory of the encounter.
Chapter 2
It was several weeks later on a Saturday afternoon and I was sitting, reading a book, when there was a knock on the front door. I answered it to find the same 12 year old boy standing there. I had had a nervous time, wondering when I was going to get a visit by irate parents, or the police, about my molesting the boy. And here he was, but he seemed to be alone as I couldn't see any angry adults behind him.
"Hello," I greeted him.
"Um, hi." The boy was then silent and shuffled his feet. What could he want? What sort of trouble was I in now?
"Why don't you come inside
3; I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."
"It's Andy," was the reply.
"Hi Andy, my name is Alex. Come inside." Andy followed me into the living room. "Did you go on your school trip?"
"Yes."
"And did you enjoy yourself?"
"Yeah, it was cool."
This was like pulling hens' teeth. I'm not great at making small talk with adults, but children were impossible. I didn't know how to relate to them and usually could find nothing to say to them.
"The thing is," Andy continued, "I spent all my money, so I'm broke. I need to earn some more money and I thought, well
3;" The boy stopped speaking.
'Aha,' I thought to myself. 'Now we are getting down to business.'
"Yes?" I asked in an encouraging voice.
"Well, I thought we could do the same as last time. You can kiss me for $5". Andy blushed and looked down at the floor as I gazed at him.
"I don't know," I replied. "The kiss was very nice, but we have been there and done that. Perhaps we could think of something else." This was my chance. What could I get away with? "I'll tell you what. I will give you $10 if you take off all your clothes, let me look at you, and then kiss me."
"Strip naked! No way, man." Andy was highly indignant.
"Well, that's up to you," I replied. "But I'm not interested in just having a kiss, so perhaps you had better go."
"But, but people might see me." Andy pointed towards the French doors leading onto the back deck.
"That's easily solved." I walked to the doors and drew the curtains over them. I turned towards the boy and said, "Now no-one can see, or are you too scared to take off your clothes?"
"I'm not scared."
Andy glared at me. He paused, then slowly pulled his jersey over his head. He turned away to put it on a chair and then removed the rest of his clothes with his back to me. I stared at the naked boy's back and especially at his rounded buttocks. My cock went almost painfully hard and I had to adjust it to a more comfortable position in my pants. Andy turned to face me, holding his hands protectively in front of his groin.
"Take your hands away, Andy," I commanded.
He sighed, then let his hands drop to his side. He had a slender tanned body and a very pretty cock. It was an average length for his age, perhaps two or three inches [5-7 cm], and it curved out and down from his body. It was uncircumcised, but I could see its head peaking out from the end of his foreskin. Andy's balls were filling out nicely and he had a tidy little patch of pubic hair above the base of his cock. I licked my lips.
"Very nice,' I said. 'Now come here for your kiss."
Andy walked up to me and I clasped his naked body to me. I bent and kissed him, opening my mouth and running my tongue over his lips. After a moment he opened his mouth slightly and I poked my tongue inside just a little to explore his gums and teeth. Andy took this for a moment, then he tensed up and pulled himself away from my arms.
"That's enough," he said, "now give me my money."
Andy gave me a challenging look, but was his cock just a fraction larger and standing out just a bit more from his body? I couldn't be sure, so I went to get his money while he dressed.
"Goodbye Andy," I said as I let him out the French doors.
"Yeah, see ya," he replied and he disappeared down the drive.
Would I see Andy again? It was quite possible, but in the meanwhile my hard-on was in urgent need of some attention.
Chapter 3
The following Saturday I was sitting in the living room and reading, when I saw a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Andy standing at the French doors. So he had come back for more and he had only waited for a single week. I had him hooked, I thought. Now it was just a matter of playing him for all he was worth. A little patience and there was no telling how far he might be prepared to go. I went to the door and opened it for the boy. Wasn't this a wicked thing, to be planning how I could use and abuse his body? Well yes, but Andy was a willing participant and he had to know that our encounters were going to escalate. And the money wasn't that much of an inducement.
I went to the door and opened it. "Hi, Andy."
"Hi," replied and he gave me a half smile as he stepped inside.
"How are you today?"
"OK."
"And how was school last week?"
"OK."
"What did you do at school? Anything interesting?"
"Nah, nothing much."
Oh, here we go again, I thought. It's time to up the ante. "Have you come to do some more odd-jobs?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Well, I might be able to pay you $15 this week."
Andy gave me a measured and calculating stare. I could see that he was wondering what new thing he would have to do for the money, just as I was wondering what new thing I could get away with. Go too far too soon and I would lose him.
"What would I have to do?" he asked.
"Take off all your clothes, let me touch you wherever I like, then give me a kiss."
"What, even down there?" Andy sounded indignant at the thought that I would fondle his family jewels. Foolish boy, what else did he expect?
"Down where?"
"You know." Andy gestured vaguely towards his groin.
"I'm not quite sure," I countered. "Where exactly do you mean?"
"My, um, my dick. You knew what I meant; you just wanted me to say it." Andy's reluctance to say rude words to an adult was charming.
"Say what?" I teased.
"Dick, dick, cock, prick, willie, stiffie," he recited. Andy's face was slightly flushed, partly out of embarrassment, but perhaps also he was getting excited by the sexy talk.
"Of course."
"What? Oh." Andy was confused, until he remembered how the conversations started. His brow furrowed in thought for a minute, then he decided. "OK, you can touch my prick; I don't care. Are you going to close the curtains?"
"Yeah, sure." I closed the curtains as Andy undressed. When he was naked, Andy faced me, hands by his sides, accepting of my hungry gaze devouring the sight of his nude body. He was ready for the next stage of our strange journey.
"Why don't you lie face down on the couch?" I suggested.
Andy lay down with his arms by his sides and his face turned towards me and I knelt on the floor beside him. I lay my hands on his shoulders and began to caress and stroke them. I massaged his shoulders and down his back to his waist. He was tense at the start, but after a few minutes I could feel his muscles start to relax. Andy closed his eyes and gave a little sigh. I next moved down to the bottoms of his legs and massaged up his calves and thighs, and then onto his gently rounded buttocks. Andy tensed and I saw his eyes spring open. I stroked and caressed and played with his bottom, which was so smooth and soft and resilient. Then I slipped one hand into the crack between his cheeks.
Andy gasped. "What are you doing?" he asked.
I probed with a finger until I found his little rosebud and started playing with it.
"Oh, I didn't know you were going to touch me there." Andy was shocked that I had touched his most private sanctum, a place more private and personal even than his cock. That was enough for now. I would teach him another time about the pleasure that can be gained from his arsehole.
"OK, you can turn over now," I gently instructed him.
Andy rolled onto his back and lay there, open and vulnerable to my gaze. His thighs were closed, so his cock and balls clustered most appealingly in their little nest of hair. I started to massage him, from his narrow boy's chest, down to his slightly rounded belly, while he inspected what I was doing with a most serious look on his face. After I reached Andy's belly button, I probed it with a finger, then moved down to his feet. I massaged the soles of his feet and his toes, then made my way from calves to thighs. I was getting closer to my ultimate target. Andy knew what was going to happen and, with the anticipation, the inevitable happened. His cute little prick started to swell and expand until it stood proudly into the air. And did I get hard in response? Of course not. I had been as hard as a rock right from when I started to caress the boy, so much so that the movement of my cock against my boxers was almost painful as I moved. Andy blushed and covered himself with his hand.
"Oh, no you don't," I said as I grasped his hand and moved it down by his side. "No hiding the little man."
I lay my hand on my target. Andy's cock was a hot, hard little rod that pressed against my palm. I gently probed and rolled his little nuts in their so-soft nut-sac. Then, with his cock firmly grasped in my hand, I bent over and kissed him. I probed his lips with my tongue and he opened his mouth and let me in. Yes, this boy was mine! How could I stop now? But no, I had made a bargain and one step at a time was the sure way not to frighten him off. I had a last quick exploration of his mouth and tongue, gave his cock a couple of quick strokes up and down, then pulled myself from Andy's grasp.
"That was very nice. You can get dressed now."
"But,
3;" Andy stopped, then got off the couch to dress. His body quivered in frustration and his prick was a hard little spike that jutted into the air and begged for release.
I gave Andy his money and kissed him on his forehead. He briefly wrapped his arms around my waist, then stepped back.
"I'll come back next week, OK?" he said.
"Sure, if you like," I replied casually, as if I didn't care much either way. Yeah, right, as if. I was desperate for him to return. Then with a quick grin, Andy was gone.
It was time for some urgent business. I pulled down my pants and had only given my cock a couple of quick strokes when my come exploded over fist, boxers and pants. What a mess!
Chapter 4
It was the following Saturday and I was sitting in my chair, as usual, waiting for Andy. I had tried to read while I waited, but I couldn't concentrate on the text in anticipation of the afternoon's adventure. Finally, Andy appeared on the deck. He bounced in the room like an eager puppy.
"Hey, man," he greeted me.
"Hay boy," I returned.
"Huh?" Andy decided to ignore my weird response. "What are we going to do today?"
"Today I will wank you."
"Yeah, cool. For $20, right?"
"Sure." I had his money ready in my pocket
"Um, are you going to massage me? That was nice."
"Of course."
"Good," said Andy and he started to undress.
This week he didn't turn away as he took off his clothes. He knew he was on display and he was ready to show off his body. So I gazed at his belly and chest as it was revealed when he pulled off his T-shirt, and I stared at his thighs as he pulled down his jeans to reveal his tight white undies. Andy had a small smile as he watched my hungry stare. He slipped off his briefs to stand naked before me and, as I watched, his cock bobbed and swelled and stood erect as our excitement fed off each other.
Andy lay on the couch and sighed as I started to massage his shoulders. His eyes closed and I could feel his muscles relax as he surrendered himself to the sensation. This week, when I slipped my hand between Andy's buttock cheeks he spread his legs slightly to give me better access. I gently probed and caressed the boy's arsehole before turning him over and massaging his front.
Then it was time for the next stage. Andy's cock was a rigid spike that jutted into the air and quivered in its urgent desire for attention. I grasped it as I bent to kiss him. His mouth opened to welcome my exploring tongue and his arms wrapped around my neck. Then with my had firmly wrapped around his cock I began to wank him. It only took half a dozen strokes when Andy's whole body stiffened. He quivered and gasped and, as I felt a little squirt against my hand, I shot a massive load into my boxers.
I sat back and admired Andy's body sprawled on the couch as he recovered from his orgasm, with cock softening and shrinking, slightly damp from its deposit. A slow satisfied smile spread over his face.
"Man, that was great." He looked down at my groin and the spreading stain. "Did you come in your pants? Gross."
"That's because you are so sexy. I couldn't help myself."
"Oh, yeah?" Andy giggled at the thought of being sexy, then, with the business over he was ready to dress and leave.
I gave Andy his $20 and bent to kiss him goodbye. He raised his face to mine and gave me a quick peck on the lips, then with a cheery wave and 'see you next week,' he was gone. I now had to change out of my damp sticky pants.
Chapter 5
I was just putting the lunch dishes away the following Saturday, when I heard someone come in the French doors, then Andy appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.
"Hi Alex," he said with a cheery smile, then he went to close the curtains. Andy was early today. It must be that he couldn't wait until the next episode of out sexy adventure. I joined him in the living room.
"It's $25 today, right?" he asked.
"Yes, sure." I gave him his money.
"What are we going to do today?"
"Take off your clothes and we will see," I replied, as if I hadn't been thinking all week about what we were going to do today.
Andy stripped down to his underwear, but instead of his usual briefs, today he was wearing brightly patterned boxer shorts.
"Hey, nice boxers," I said. "Now take them off."
"Yeah, but you take off your clothes," he replied.
"Why?'
"Well, you get to see me naked. It's only fair that I get to see you naked," was the answer.
I was paying him, was the reason, but I wasn't about to make that argument. If Andy was ready for us to be naked together, I was more than ready for that. It was one more step in the seduction of the boy. I stripped down to my boxers and Andy's gaze was riveted to where my hard-on pushed out the front of my shorts. I paused, then slipped them off. Andy stared at my rock hard cock jutting out from my bush. He sighed and licked his lips, then looked up at my face. His face was flushed red. Then with a quick movement he took off his boxers. Andy gave a cheeky grin and with a wiggle of his hips his hard cock waggled in the air.
"Why don't we go into my bedroom," I suggested. "We will be more comfortable there." I took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
"Massage first," Andy instructed and plopped himself face down on the bed. I climbed on the bed, straddled his legs and started work.
After I had finished back and front, Andy lay there, stiff cock reaching for the ceiling and eyes alight with anticipation.
"Wank me now," he demanded.
"No."
Andy's face wrinkled in disappointment and confusion. "But
3;" he started.
"Today, I will give you a blow job."
"Cool," he replied. He paused, blushed, then continued. "Um, what is
3;?"
"You will see," I said and bent over his groin.
I blew gently on his cock and it moved in the breeze. I kissed the tip of his cock, where it jutted out from his foreskin.
"Oh," said Andy with a gasp. I gave one ball a lick and then the other.
"Oh," gasped Andy again. I licked up the shaft of his cock.
"Oh." His cock quivered and got even harder, if that was possible. I popped the head of his cock in my mouth.
"Oh, oh." I deep throated, which didn't take much, as it was still a cute little boy cock, and sucked. I pulled back and massaged the head of his cock with my tongue.
"Oh
3; oh
3; aahh," was Andy's response and with a spurt he came into my mouth. I lay down, gathered Andy into my arms and gave him a wet spermy kiss. He looked at me doubtfully, then licked his lips. He screwed up his face in disgust as he tasted the traces of his spunk.
"Oh, yuk, that is my stuff."
I just smiled. If he thought that was disgusting, what was he going to think of what was going to happen next. My cock painfully hard and it needed release. I sat on Andy's thighs and grasped my cock, while he stared in fascination at what I was doing. I few quick strokes and I came on his chest and belly.
"Oh, gross," Andy complained. "Now you've got your spunk all over me." He reached for some tissues to clean himself up. But I think Andy must have found it sexy, as he had a small smile and his cock was swelling and stiffening once more.
Andy squirmed out from under me and went to get dressed. He returned to where I lay naked on the bed. He looked at my cock, where it lay limply in its nest of hair and oozed the last remnants of come, and bent to give me a kiss on the lips.
"What are we doing next week?" he asked.
"Wait and see."
"OK," and with a cheery "see ya," he was gone.
Chapter 6
It was the following week and the usual routine and you should know what that is by now. This week the price had gone up to $30. Andy was horny and eager when he burst into my house. He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the bedroom. He tore off his clothes and plopped down onto the bed to watch me undress. He stared at my hard, throbbing cock and licked his lips at what was to come, then flipped over onto his stomach.
'Yes, my boy,' I thought to myself, 'you will certainly have something to lick you lips over before the day is over'. And I got onto the bed to give Andy his massage.
When I got to Andy's arse, I licked my finger and started to probe his rosebud. He gasped as I massaged the entrance to his back passage and groaned as I pushed the tip of my finger inside. I could feel the muscle of his ring tighten in protest against the violation of his inner sanctum.
"Oh, no man, don't do that," he protested.
'That's OK,' I thought, 'later,' and I withdrew the offending finger.
I finished the massage, I browsed on his straining cock and, with the taste of his little squirt in my mouth, I stretched over Andy's naked body to give him a kiss. But he turned his face to one side, to avoid the taste of his spunk. I wasn't going to have any of that and Andy was going to have to learn to take what I decided to do to him. So I grabbed his head between my two hands, then planted my mouth over his, as Andy's eyes widened in shock at being forced. I forced my tongue into his mouth and coated the inside with traces of his spunk. Andy's body went rigid for a moment, then it relaxed and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. The boy might need a little persuasion, but he was ready to follow me on this exploration of sex.
After we broke the kiss, Andy complained "that was gross, getting my stuff in my mouth."
"Fairs, fair," I replied, "I had your spunk in my mouth."
"Yeah, but
3;"
I sat back on Andy's legs, revealing my hard-on jutting into the air.
"Now it's your turn to suck my cock."
"No way man, that's disgusting," Andy objected and he stared in horror at my cock and the thought of it being in his mouth.
"It's only fair," I responded. "I sucked your cock."
"No, I'm not putting that in my mouth. It's dirty."
"I won't come in your mouth, if you don't want me to," I promised.
"No way. I will give you a wank though, if you like."
I hesitated. This was obviously as far as Andy was prepared to go. And while he may not think it now, there was always another day.
"OK, but you have got to give the end of my cock a kiss first," and I lay down on the bed.
"I'm not going to kiss that thing."
"Do it, boy, or you don't get your money," I demanded as I grabbed him by the shoulder.
Andy reluctantly bent over my groin. As he paused I could feel his soft breath on my cock, then he gave a quick peck on the end. I quivered at the sight and feel of his soft lips on my cock, while Andy sat up and screwed up his face in disgust at what he had done. However, his prick was rock hard once again, so he must have found the experience sexy, in spite of himself.
Andy grabbed my cock and after a few quick strokes I exploded over his hand and my belly. He looked at the mess on his hand with a small smile.
"Taste it, Andy," I coaxed.
"Don't think so," he replied.
Andy cleaned himself off, then dressed. He leaned over me, where I lay naked on the bed, watching him, and gave me a friendly kiss on the lips, before leaving.
Chapter 7
Another Saturday and another visit by Andy. When he came into the house he put his arms around me and I bent to kiss him. His lips parted and our tongues met. This was one horny boy, ready for the days adventure. He pulled back from our embrace.
"I'm not sucking your cock," he warned me with a stern look.
"We'll see."
We settled into our usual routine. Andy sighed and relaxed completely when I started his massage. When I turned him over to massage his front, he was a limp as a rag doll, except for his hard little spike jutting out from his groin. After I feasted on that little spike and accepted his little squirt, I gathered Andy into my arms and kissed him. This week he accepted the transfer of his come from my mouth into his, as our tongues explored each others mouths.
Andy reached between us and grasped my hard cock that was begging for release. I grabbed his hand to stop him from jerking me off.
"I don't want a wank," I told him. "I can do that for myself any time. This week you are going to suck my cock."
"I told you, no way," he replied and he tried to stroke my cock.
"Well, it's either that or I fuck you."
"Hey, I'm not going to do that." Andy looked at me in complete shock, as if the possibility had never crossed his mind. Foolish boy, where else did he think the steady escalation of our activities might end? "I'll give you a really good wank," he promised. "It will be neat."
"Not interested," I responded. "My cock is going in your mouth or arse, or else there is no $35 this week."
Andy frowned and ran his tongue around his mouth and over his lips, as he tasted the last remnants of his spunk.
"Well, OK," he finally said, "but I think it's disgusting."
"Good boy, it's not so bad and you will even get to like it soon enough."
Andy looked at me dubiously and shook his head at the thought of ever liking sucking cock, or that it might become a regular event. He bent over my groin, hesitated as he inspected my red swollen knob, then popped it into his mouth. He started to suck and move his lips up and down my shaft. This was no deep throat, as only the end of my cock was in him, but that was OK.
"Use your tongue, boy," I instructed.
The feel of Andy's tongue massaging the end of my cock sent me over the edge and I spurted into his mouth. I had been saving it for the past week, so I filled his mouth with come. Andy choked, swallowed and pulled back.
"Oh, gross," he exclaimed. "You made me drink your stuff. You promised last week you wouldn't do that."
"That was last week," and I smiled as Andy, in spite of himself, licked the last bit of spunk dribbling out of his mouth. He might feel he had to deny it, but this was a boy who was going to enjoy giving blowjobs. That was entirely appropriate for an odd-job boy.
"And as a reward for being so good, I will do you again," I announced. I pushed him back on the bed and dove back down on his prick that was once again hard and ready for servicing.
Andy was quiet afterwards and he didn't look at me as he dressed. Neither did he give me a goodbye kiss.
"Bye Andy," I called out to him as he left. "See ya next week."
There was no reply.
Chapter 8
The following Saturday, there was no sign of Andy. Had I pushed him too far too fast, past the point that he could accept? I feared that I might have. I was restless all afternoon and couldn't settle down to doing anything. I missed my sexy, cuddly boy and would have been happy with whatever he was prepared to give me. Then, finally, late in the afternoon, Andy appeared on the back deck and came into the house.
"Hi, Andy, how's things?" I greeted him.
"OK," was the quiet reply.
Andy was downcast, hesitant, very much like the first couple of visits. I gathered him in my arms. He stood quietly, not resisting, but not responding either.
"Are you going to fuck me?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," I replied and I kissed him on the top of his head. "And you will get $40 for it," I reminded him.
I led Andy into the bedroom and we undressed.
"Lie on your back," I instructed him. "This week I will start the massage with your front."
Andy was slightly tense when I started, but then gave a big sigh and I could feel his muscles relax completely, as he accepted the gaze of my eyes and the feel of my hands as I stroked and caressed him.
By the time I got to his prick it was rock hard and jutting into the air and Andy had a slight smile as he watched me. I licked his tight little balls and plunged my mouth over his cock and down to the base. I buried my nose in his tidy little bush, then moved back up to the tip to massage the head of his cock with my tongue. Andy gasped in pleasure.
"I will deal with this later," I said and flipped him over onto his front.
I gave Andy his back massage, then was ready for the main event of the day. Was it unfair to inflict this on him? Probably, but Andy knew and accepted what was going to happen, and there was no way I was going to give up the chance to fuck this sexy young boy.
I lifted his hips and slipped a pillow underneath, so that his pert little bum stuck into the air. I plunged my fingers into the jar of vaseline I had ready, in anticipation, on the bedside table. Then I probed between his cheeks to find his rosebud. I caressed and massaged the muscle, then started to push a finger in his hole. The muscle tightened in protest at the invasion, but I just pushed harder.
Andy groaned as the tip of my finger went up his arse and groaned some more as I pushed it deeper. Then he moaned some more as I finger fucked him. When I pulled the finger out, there was an 'oh' of disappointment at the loss of sensation. I didn't know if Andy was ready for the next stage, but I sure was.
I positioned myself over Andy and pushed my cock between his butt cheeks and against his arsehole. I pressed against the entrance to his arse, which tightened in protest at the assault.
As I forced the head of my cock inside, he cried out "aagh, it hurts."
"Just relax and it will be better," I responded and I plunged my cock to the hilt up his back passage.
"Stop. Take it out," he begged, but there was no way I was going to stop, now that I had reached the ultimate goal of my campaign.
I gave a half dozen quick thrusts, but the heat and tightness of his arse to was too much for me to last any longer and I came with a gasp and a sigh.
I rolled onto the bed and gathered Andy into my arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and buried his head into my chest.
"I'm sorry for hurting you, little one," I apologized. "It was the best gift you could give me. And you will find quickly enough that you get used to being fucked, and that it will give pleasure, not pain."
Andy raised his head and looked into my eyes. A sly little smirk spread over his face.
"Next week I'm going to fuck you," he announced.
"Well, OK, but that will cost you $5."
Andy laughed.
The End
#2 Stormchild
A cold and wet boy is picked up by a boy-lover
3; and brought to his home. Then a friendship starts between both, and there are also two little brothers.
Eric (13yo) and Martin (adult), with Eric's brothers Grant (11yo) and Harry (9yo)
Mb – cons mast oral
Chapter 1 The boy who came in from the cold
It was a dark and stormy night. Yeah, yeah, it's so cliche, but I've always wanted to start a story with that. It was night, which happens regularly, at least where I live. And it usually is dark at night. A southerly storm had blown through, so it was raining and there was a bitterly cold wind. The temperature had fallen below 10 degrees (cee, that is) [50°F].
I was driving home when I saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road. Was the figure large, looming and menacing? Well no, it was rather small and pathetic. As I drove past I realised it was just a young child who didn't even have a jacket on and must have been soaked to the skin. I stopped the car and opened the passenger door. The figure ran up and got inside. I saw that my passenger was a young boy and, yes, he was soaked, from hair plastered to his head, through soaked T-shirt clinging to his torso, to sodden blue jeans and sneakers. The boy shivered and wrapped his arms around himself in a futile effort to keep warm.
"Where do you want to go?"
"W
3; W
3; W
3; Woodton." His teeth chattered so much with cold he could hardly get the word out and he had a bluish tinge to lips and face.
Woodton was a half hour drive away and I was concerned that the boy was starting to suffer from hypothermia.
"I will take you there, of course, but you look so cold I think it could be dangerous and you have to get warm as soon as possible. I live just around the corner and I think we should get some dry warm clothes for you. Is that OK?"
He just nodded his head and tried to hug himself even tighter. So I turned the heater up full and drove the short distance home. By the time we got to my house, I was sweltering from the heat, but my passenger looked no better.
We went inside and the boy stood in the middle of the room, shivering, looking like a half drowned puppy, with a puddle of water accumulating on the carpet around his feet.
"You really should get warm as quickly as possible," I told him. "The best way to do that is to have a hot shower while I get you some dry clothes."
'Aha,' you say, 'I know where this is leading. It is standard scenario number 4.'
I led the boy to the bathroom, where I turned on the heater and water and gave him a fresh towel. Then I left him while I found some of my old clothes that were hopefully not too large. After returning with a bundle of clothes in my arms, I hesitated outside the bathroom door. Should I have respected his privacy and left the clothes outside the door? But then he might not have realised they were out there. This was the only reason, honest, that I knocked on the door and slipped them inside.
I daresay I should not have looked at the boy, but I could not stop myself from glancing towards him in the shower. However, he was modestly turned away from me, and all I could see was his back, hazed and obscured by the condensation on the glass door of the shower cabinet. An indistinct view of his rounded buttocks was all I was going to get.
'So this is the stage,' you think, 'where he turns towards you with a huge erection, or asks you to wash his back, or you simply leap into the shower and ravage him with your own enormous prong.'
Ha! I wish. None of those things happened, although my wee willie was starting to think prong thoughts. Instead, I left the boy to shower in peace.
He was in the shower for so long that I was beginning to wonder if he had drowned, or simply dissolved and swirled down the drain. But after all, he had an awful lot of warming up to do. Eventually the boy came into the living room and stood, uncertainly, in the middle of the room, and for the first time I got a good look at him.
He looked to be about five feet [1½ m] tall and perhaps around 13 years old. His thatch of tousled blond hair crowned his very cute, almost delicate, face. As for his body, there was no way of telling whether he was fat or skinny in my clothes. Although I was not a large man, my clothes were definitely too large on him. The jersey was baggy, with arms that hid his hands. The track pants hung loosely on him, although the elastic at the ankles stopped them from trailing beyond his feet. And those feet were hidden by woolly winter socks.
In fact he reminded me of Charlie Chaplin's 'Tramp'. OK, the clothes were completely different, the boy didn't have a moustache, he was much younger and certainly much sexier. But even so, there was that lost and wistful look to him.
"Do you feel better now?" I asked.
"Um, yeah." The boy looked wary, no doubt at finding himself in a strange man's house and clothes. Little did he know how strange.
"My name's Martin. What's yours?"
"Eric."
"It's nice to meet you Eric. Let's find a coat and some shoes for you to wear and get you on your journey."
Once all that mechanical stuff was sorted out and I stuffed his wet clothes, which I had found left in a sodden mess on the bathroom floor in typical boy fashion, into a supermarket shopping bag, we were in the car and on our way to Woodton. We drove in silence, but I was intensely aware of Eric sitting beside me, gazing out into the rainy night. Was this brief time to be the extent of my encounter with this child of the storm. I had a pang of regret for all the possible futures that were unlikely to occur. Which was probably just a fancy way of saying that I fancied the boy something bad, and regretted not getting a look at his cock when I almost had the chance.
Chapter 2 Home, bitter home
Once in Woodton, Eric directed me to his home and we stopped outside. Even in the light of the street lamps I could see that the house was dilapidated. The paint was peeling off the weatherboards and the lawn badly needed mowing. The grass of my lawn was almost as long, but that was a deliberate policy of efficiency of effort and keeping the lawn in a healthy state. When other people don't mow their lawns, it's because they are lazy slobs.
"Thanks for the ride. Um, you had better come inside so that I can give you your clothes back."
"Yeah, sure."
I was not at all sure that I wanted to face Eric's parents, as the meeting could be awkward. But, it had to be faced, so we went up the path and in the front door. The hall was dark, dingy and had a damp, rank smell. My nose wrinkled in protest.
"Mum, I'm home," shouted Eric.
"What? What are you doing here?" came the reply and Eric's mother appeared in the hall.
She sounded cross and looked tired, worn and not very happy to see Eric. And then she saw me.
"Oh, I didn't know there was anyone here."
"I'm sorry to intrude, but I have just given Eric a ride from town."
Eric's mother frowned as she looked at her son. "Eric, what do you think you were doing
3; Hey, what's with those clothes?"
I hurried to explain the situation, though not, strange to say, that Eric took a shower in my house. His mother looked at me with increasing suspicion. This was not one of those mothers who, after five minutes conversation, pleads for you to bonk her young son because that is what he wants and needs. No, this was one of those mothers who knows you are a dirty old man and what you are up to; and lay one finger on her precious baby and you will be in prison with your balls stuffed down your throat. In spite of my wishes, that was the only sort of mother I had ever met.
"Eric, go and get changed now, so we can give the man his clothes. I guess you had better come in and wait, Mr
3; ah?"
"Lynn, Martin Lynn," I replied, as I followed Mrs 'why don't you give me your own name then, dammit' into the livingroom.
In the room were two little brown-haired boys in their pyjamas, sitting on the sofa and watching TV. Two pairs of eyes swivelled towards then, when they realised I was just a grown-up, dismissed me as unimportant and returned their attention to the program.
'Cute little muffins,' I thought, then decided the wisest thing was to focus solely on the mother. "I know it was a bit irregular, but Eric was suffering from hypothermia. It was important he got into warm dry clothes as soon as possible, or it could have been very dangerous."
"Yes, well." This was one unconvinced mother. "What Eric thinks he was doing hitchhiking, when he should have been with his father is another matter. I suppose you had better sit down. What is it that you do, Mr
3; ah?"
"I'm a senior manager at the Bethle oil company."
"Oh, a professional man, then. Where are my manners, would you like a cup of tea?"
"No thanks, I'm fine, Mrs
3; ah?"
"Iris Jansen. Look, will you excuse me, there is something I need to finish doing."
"Yes, certainly," I replied as settled in the chair strategically chosen so that I could easily watch the muffins on the sofa.
The younger boy, the one with very short hair, looked to be about nine and he sat with crossed legs. The older, larger boy may have been about eleven. His straight hair swept across his brow and he sprawled on the sofa with his feet on the floor.
'If they only move a little,' I thought, 'I might be able to see up their shorts.'
My heart began to pound at the thought, as I found looking up boys' shorts an incredible turn-on. One of my most vivid memories of junior school was one sports day when I was about 12, when I was standing across from a boy sitting cross-legged on the grass. With a little movement, I was in the right position to look up his baggy shorts to see his little prick. He wasn't wearing any undies, the grubby little sod. My memories were interrupted by the older boy on the sofa.
"This show is such crap," he complained. "Change to the other channel."
"Nah. I like it, it's fun."
"Change the channel," and he gave his little brother a vicious punch on the arm.
"Ow, stop it. That hurt."
"Then change the channel, or I'll do it again."
"No, don't wanna."
"Gimme the remote," middle bro demanded and he lunged across the younger boy to grab the TV remote.
"No, piss off," little bro protested as he held onto the remote and tried to fend off his brother.
As the two boys struggled, legs flew in the air and I stared intently for views up their shorts. While I did get to see up both boys' pjyama shorts several times, it was not enough to see pricks or balls. But it was enough for my face to go red and my cock to start to stiffen.
"Stop that at once, boys, or I will give you a good belting," Iris shouted as she burst into the room.
I sat back guiltily and the boys subsided, as did my own little man.
Eric walked into the room with my clothes in his arms and Iris switched her attention to her next target.
"And what the hell are you doing here? You are meant to be staying at your father's this weekend."
"He's gone to the pub with his girlfriend and left me alone, so I came home," Eric whined as he hugged the clothes protectively to his chest.
"Well, I don't expect anything better of the bastard, but you could have stayed at his house and watched TV, or somethin'. And you know I don't like you hitchhiking."
"I missed the bus, didn't I. And I got fuckin' pissed off because Dad promised to take me to see Lord of the Rings but he went out with his girlfriend instead. So I came home."
"Don't you bloody swear," Eric's mother shouted. "And it doesn't matter if you don't see some dumb movie; it's not important. Hitchhiking in the storm, when you could get your death of cold, or worse when you are picked up by who know who, that's what's important."
"The movie is important," Eric shouted back, "and now I will never get to see Lord of the Rings."
Conflict is something I hate, so I had to interrupt, even though it is said you should never get between a mother and her cub. OK, I know that doesn't refer to when they are fighting, but stepping into the middle of a fight is always a hazardous thing to do.
"Look, I don't want to interfere, but I would like to see Lord of the Rings again. Why don't I take Eric tomorrow?"
Eric swung towards me. His mood changed in an instant and his face shone in hope.
"Really? Do you mean it?"
"No, of course you can't," Iris said. "It's quite impossible."
She tried to be firm, but with her anger so abruptly deflated while in full flight, her voice was instead weak and uncertain.
"Hey, can we go too," middle and little bro's piped up.
"No, you can't," replied their mother. "That would impose much too much on Mr
3; ah, the gentleman."
"Does that mean it's OK if I go, then?" Eric asked.
"It would be no trouble," I assured Iris, "and it would mean he would be out of your hair, so you could get some peace and quiet. I'm sure he can be a real handful."
Eric scowled at me at that, but kept a tactical silence.
"Well,
3;" Iris hesitated, then "What time is the movie? Eric can't be too late home."
"There's a show at 6 o'clock," Eric said.
"You can't go then, as you would miss tea."
"Oh, that's alright. I will collect Eric early and we can get takeaways at the food court before the movie starts."
"Yeah! Can I go Mum? Please, please, please."
She hesitated, before replying. "Well, that will give me give me a chance to wash your clothes and you can collect them tomorrow when you pick up Eric."
And so it was settled. We organised the details, with one very excited big bro, wearing an enormous grin, and two little bro's, whining and complaining that it wasn't fair, in the background.
As I drove home, I reflected on my encounter with Eric, with his fiery temper and stormy relationship with his family. He did appear to be a child of the storm.
Chapter 3 Travels in Middle Earth
The following day I collected clothes, washed and folded (a pity as I wouldn't have minded having a sniff of unwashed undies that had covered a boy package) and boy, dressed in grey T-shirt and grey nylon cargo pants with red trim, all bright eyed and bushy tailed. Well, Eric certainly was bright eyed, but I didn't know if his tail was bushy, although I suspected it was.
Once again our drive was silent, although Eric did glance at me several times. At the food court I went for an Indian curry, after giving Eric some money to go to the Happy Hoppy Hamburger House. That wasn't its real name and it was, in fact, a well known international hamburger chain, but as they hadn't paid me for product placement, I am not going to place their product.
"This is so great," Eric said, after he settled at our table with hamburger, chips and cola. "We hardly ever get to eat at Happy Hoppy's."
Oh, dear. I was quite happy to contribute to the corruption of young boys, but feeding their addiction to junk food was not what I had in mind. I gazed at Eric as he devoured his hamburger, then he raised his head and looked at me with his bright blue eyes, kissable lips glistening with hamburger grease. 'Yuk', you think, but I wouldn't have minded cleaning them with my tongue.
"What?" he asked when he caught me staring at him.
"Nothing."
Eric gave a small smile, as if pleased that he had my attention, and returned his attention to his meal.
Once his hunger was satisfied, Eric chattered about school and home. I learnt he had just started his first year in high school; that his brothers' names were Grant (middle bro) and Harry and that they were both pains in the arse; and that his father had left the family three years ago. As Eric talked about his father and visiting him, I sensed that his father was more interested in a succession of girlfriends than his children. My heart went out to the poor lad who yearned for something his father was no longer, if ever, providing.
Then it was time to go to the movies.
"I need a piss," I announced and headed to the toilets. LOTR is a very long movie, after all.
Eric followed and stood beside me at the urinal. Pissing together at a urinal is a very intimate activity. There you have two males, often strangers, standing side by side, with their hands on their (own) cocks which are sticking out of their pants. And then there is the need to avoid appearing interested in the other guy's cock, while often actually wanting to check out his equipment. Even the straight guys will do this. It's no wonder so many men have trouble relaxing and letting go.
Having a sexy boy stand next to me didn't help either, but I managed to relax enough to start pissing. I risked a glance towards Eric's crotch, but all I could see was his protecting hand and stream of urine splashing against the back of the urinal. I gave a mental sigh and concentrated on the business at hand.
Lord of the Rings was wonderful. I had seen it before, which meant that I could relax and let it wash over me, like visiting an old friend. I was also very aware of Eric beside me. He was very still and intent on what was happening on the screen.
Afterwards, out in the foyer, I turned to Eric. "I guess I had better get you home now."
His smile disappeared and his face started to crumple. "But I don't want to go home yet," he started to whine.
"Well, we could have supper at my place, first."
"Yeah, cool." And in an instant the smile was back and Eric was a happy boy again.
Back at home, Eric sat beside me on the sofa and we drank hot chocolate as we happily discussed the movie.
"Does Gandalf come back?" he wanted to know. And, "will Merry and Pippin be OK?"
'Aha,' you realise, 'it was The Fellowship of the Ring we had just seen'.
But at last it really was time to take Eric home. He stood in the middle of the room, looking rather forlorn. I hesitated, then reached out to place my hand on his shoulder. In an instant, he melted against me and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. I hugged him in turn and kissed the top of his head.
"I wish I didn't have to go." His voice was muffled as he spoke into my chest.
"I know, I know. But perhaps we can do something else sometime. After all, the next LOTR movie will be out in 12 months time."
"That's too long to wait," and he grinned up at me.
Reluctantly we let each other go and, as we walked out to the car, Eric slipped his hand into mine. This was not the sort of thing that any self-respecting 13 year-old boy would be seen dead doing, as it was deeply uncool. It probably indicated his real need for affection. This was starting to create a major problem for me. On the one hand I would love to have sex with the boy. Oh why didn't I leap into the shower and ravage him when I had the chance? But on the other hand, I found myself increasingly wanting to protect and care for Eric. But then, I supposed that it didn't matter as I was most unlikely to be able to do either.
Again, our drive to Woodton was silent, but this time it was warm and peaceful. It was amazing how much communication there was in our silences, which had been different for each drive. After a while, Eric rested his hand on my thigh and I patted it before returning my hand to the steering wheel.
Hand on thigh? If it had been my hand on a boy's thigh, that would mean that it was about to slip up the leg of his shorts and he would then adjust his position to give me easy access to his dick. At least, in my fantasies it did. But there was an innocence in the reassurance in physical contact that Eric was seeking, as odd as it might seem to say that such a street-wise, and no doubt horny, teenager was innocent.
Back at Mordor, I mean Eric's home, Eric grabbed my hand and dragged me inside; he was not ready to let me leave yet. Squabbling on the sofa were the two junior orcs in their pyjamas. Iris was also in the room, looking drained.
"Hey, Lord of the Rings was wicked," Eric enthused and he started to describe all the cool details.
His younger brothers listened avidly, while I moved slightly to try to get a look up their shorts legs. Grant noticed me looking and moved his leg to block my view, so I hurriedly looked away, blushing slightly at being caught at my perving.
Grant and Harry complained about not getting to see LOTR, and that it was not fair that Eric got to do things, while they always missed out. Eric told them 'tough' and to 'get over it'. Iris told them to shut up, or she would send them all to bed. I thought it was already past the younger boys' bedtime, but this household obviously had different standards.
It looked like turning into a normal evening at the Jansens, so before it could deteriorate further into a shouting match I interjected. "Look, why don't I take all the boys for a walk and picnic somewhere tomorrow."
"Yeah, right on," cheered Grant and Harry. "Can we, Mum?"
"Oh, no, you couldn't possibly. That would be imposing on you much too much," she replied.
Eric frowned fiercely and shook his head, while he silently mouthed 'no'. I rather thought that he didn't like the idea of having to share me with his brothers.
"It would give you a break away from the boys, which I am sure you need and deserve. Besides, I have now raised their expectations and it would be unfair to disappoint them now."
"Please Mum, go on, let us" the younger boys pled, while Eric dumped himself on a chair, folded his arms and crossly started to watch TV.
"Well,
3;" Iris hesitated. "It would be nice, but you don't know what you are letting yourself in for."
"It's no trouble," I assured her, thinking that it was in fact very likely to be a great deal of trouble.
We made the arrangements for the next day and I set off for home, wondering what I had let myself in for. Harry and Grant appeared to be two very troublesome boys, and I wasn't sure how I was going to cope on the walk. From his stormy expression and sullen refusal to say to say goodbye to me, Eric was not happy at having his brothers along. I hoped it did not spoil our developing friendship.
Chapter 4 Down the creek without a paddle
Sunday dawned, warm and sunny. I woke early, as usual, so by the time I was ready to go on the walk, it was still much too early to pick up the boys.
I imagined going to the house and talking to Iris. 'The boys are still in bed? Well, I'm up, so why don't I go to the their bedrooms and get them up and get up them?' Yeah, right.
After waiting until a more reasonable hour, I drove to Woodton. There was a great bustle of preparation and loading the car. Eric settled into the front seat in a way that made it clear that this was his rightful place and that no-one else was going to sit there. We set off, with Grant and Harry chattering in the back, while Eric stared silently ahead.
"Alright, then?" I asked him.
Eric shrugged, then glanced at me and quirked his mouth.
"Yes," he replied softly. We were at peace again.
I had decided to take the boys on the Mandel Creek Walk. It was in the hills, about 30 minutes drive away, and the walk was not too hard or too long. At least, that is what I thought. The start of the walk led uphill, through farmland. The path was steep in places and Grant and Harry were soon complaining about how hard it was and asking when we were going to get to the end. I started to wonder why I had invited the two younger brothers and how I would survive the day.
When we came to the top of the ridge, we stopped for a rest and a drink of water. That led to Grant and Harry to start squabbling over their drink bottle, with each trying to wrest it from the control of the other. Then Eric joined in by yelling at them to shut up and hitting them when they ignored him. I found this very upsetting, but what could I do? Then were not my children and I had no idea how to control unruly boys. All I could do was to sit silently, frowning and looking disapproving.
The boys knew they were being naughty and after a while they started glancing at me, to see my reaction and waiting for me to stop them. But I did nothing and they began to hesitate and slow down as the fight lost its focus. Finally, they were silent and staring at me as I scowled severely at them.
"What?" asked Eric.
"I'm keeping fit," I responded.
"Huh, what do you mean?" Harry looked puzzled at my nonsense.
"Well, they say that frowning uses more muscles than smiling, so you should smile and save energy. I say you should frown and keep fit."
Grant laughed. "What!" he exclaimed. "Frowning doesn't make you fit."
"Hey," shouted Harry, "I'm going to get some exercise."
And he leapt to his feet, put on the most ferocious scowl, and stalked around the field making growling noises. Harry was an amazing sight in his bright yellow shorts and bright red T-shirt with racing car decals, as he pranced against the rural scene of green grassy fields, dark green tree-covered hills in the background, and blue sky above.
Then Grant also leapt to his feet and stalked after Harry, scowling and frowning and growling. I couldn't work out why they were growling, but it seemed to be an integral part of the performance. They ended up face to face, growled fiercely at each other, burst into giggles, and collapsed on the grass in a heap.
"You guys are so weird," Eric laughed.
He looked over at me and grinned. He continued to gaze at me with a look that became speculative and perhaps something else, but I wasn't sure what.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing." And with a small smile Eric looked away.
We continued on our walk and the boys were very cheerful as they bounced down the hill towards the stream.
After we arrived at the banks of the creek I stepped to a low bush to have a piss. In an instant the three brothers were ranged on either side of me, in a semi-circle around the bush. We got our cocks out of our pants and as we let go, four golden streams of piss arched towards the bush. The boys laughed as they aimed their little weapons to make their streams meet and cross.
I looked down at those cute little weapons; how could I not? I could see their pricks peeking out from between their fingers. Harry's piss streamed from the end of a tight little foreskin, while I could see the blunt knobs of Eric's and Grant's dicks. I did not know if they were circumcised, or had pulled their foreskins back, but I hoped to find out some time.
I noticed the boys look over to check out my equipment. They each seemed to be very interested in what they could see, so I made sure that my hands did not hide their view of my man cock. When I finished, I milked out the last of the piss and shook off the last few drops. But then as my cock started stiffen under the attention of the three boys, I thought it was time to put it away. Three little boy pricks disappeared and, as the boys switched their attention to the creek and the walk, the moment was forgotten, though not by me.
Mandel Creek meandered from side to side of a small valley between steep hills. We had to cross the creek frequently as we followed it downstream. At first we could jump from bank to bank, then had to find stepping stones to get across. Finally, inevitably, each of us ended up in the stream when we missed one of the crossings. Fortunately, the water was only ankle deep. After that, we splashed or jumped or hopped from stone to stone as our inclinations took us.
Once we got to the road, it was time for lunch. Afterwards, I rested on the stream bank and watched the boys play in and around the creek, laughing and chattering, throwing stones in the water, and splashing each other. After a rocky start, the walk had turned into a success as the boys were clearly enjoying themselves.
When the boys had had enough and joined me, we walked the short distance up the road to where the car was parked. Grant strode ahead, but Harry walked beside me and held onto my hand. Eric moved to my other side. He bumped against me, arm to arm, then briefly brushed the back of his hand against mine as we walked.
We returned to Woodton, where I delivered three tired, but happy, boys to their mother.
"Thank you for taking the boys," she said. "It was certainly made the day much easier for me and it was good to have a break away from them."
However, while the words were thankful enough, the tone was formal and reserved.
Iris continued, "I really don't know why you would want to bother with three young boys who are a real handful and who you don't even know."
Aha! Iris was suspicious of my motives. And yet, while she was correct about my interest, I didn't take the boys on the trip to have my wicked way with them. I could see that their home lives were difficult and suspected that they didn't have much going for them, so I wanted to do something for the brothers. While they could be horrible little imps when they were bad, I was beginning to find that they could also be nice kids when they were good.
"They were no trouble," I reassured Iris. "It was a pleasure taking them on the walk."
"Yeah, it was fun. Can we do it again?" asked Harry.
Instantly, Eric stormed at him. "No you can't. You've come with us once and you don't have to do it again." He wanted to keep me to himself.
"Why not?" Grant argued. "We can if we want."
"Boys," I interrupted before the argument could deteriorate further into a fight.
They looked at me and let their argument subside into silence. Iris observed this, with her mouth slightly open in surprise at the sight of her sons being under control. I thought this was a good time to leave and made my farewells.
There was a cheery "Bye" and "See ya" from Grant and Harry, but nothing from Eric. My stormy boy was mad at me again.
Chapter 5 Couch potatoes
It was Friday evening and I had just started cooking dinner when I heard a knock at the door. When I answered it, there was Eric, with a shy smile and looking a little uncertain at my welcome.
"Hi, what a surprise. Come on in."
He followed me into the house. "What are you doing?"
"I am just about to start dinner."
"Oh." Eric paused, then "I haven't eaten yet."
"Well, would you like to stay and have dinner with me?"
"Yeah, cool."
"I'm having pasta," I warned him.
"That's OK."
I chopped up some more vegetables, and got out some more dried pasta and store-bought pasta sauce. You don't think I used fresh pasta and made my own pasta sauce, do you?
"How's school?" I asked during the meal. Lame, I know, but I have never known what to say to boys.
"OK."
"And how's homework, now that you are at high school?"
"It's boring."
"Doing your homework is very important, you know, so that you can do well at school."
"Oh, man," Eric complained, "I don't need to hear that crap again."
"Well, if you are going to eat my food, you are going to have to listen to me nag."
Eric grinned at me and returned his attention to his food. I feasted my eyes on his sweet face, serious with concentration as he ate, luscious lips and glimpse of teeth when he shoveled food in his mouth. Eric may have the face of an angel, but his table manners were far from dainty.
After we had finished eating, Eric said "Thanks for tea, it was nice."
"Nice? Really?"
"Well, not very."
"Hah! I never said that I could cook."
"That's for sure."
"Cheeky devil. Don't you know that it's polite to lie and say how good the food was, when you are a guest for a meal."
"It was fantastic, marvelous, wonderful. It was the best meal I have ever had in my whole life and I will never forget it," Eric enthused in the most unconvincing voice imaginable. He roared with laughter at the joke and I sat back and smiled to see him so happy.
Eric helped me wash the dishes, then followed me into the living room. I sat on the sofa and he plopped down beside me.
"Are we watching TV?" he asked.
"Yes, sure."
I reached for the remote and when Eric scooted along the sofa towards me, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. He leant against me and rested his head against my chest. And that is how we spent the evening, cuddled together on the sofa. When I got up to go to the toilet, Eric would wait to pull me back down on the sofa and wrap my arms around him again. What were the TV programs like? Almost certainly rubbish, but I was hardly aware of them as all I could think of was the boy in my arms.
Eventually, in spite of toilet breaks and getting supper, I had to make a move as I was starting to get very stiff. No, it was not what you think. Holding someone starts to get uncomfortable after a while, even someone as cute and cuddly as Eric. And even though I loved looking down at this head resting against my chest, it was getting very bony and heavy. And, to be honest, his hair needed a good wash.
"It's getting late. I think it's time I take you home."
Eric looked up at me with wrinkled brow. "But I don't want to go. Can I stay the night?"
Stay the night? Now there was a thought to make my heart beat faster.
"Well, yes, you can, if your mother says it's alright."
"That's OK, we don't have to ask her. She thinks I'm staying with Dad tonight."
"I'm afraid that doesn't make it OK. We have to phone and let her know where you are and get her permission for you to stay."
"Please don't phone," Eric begged as he looked at me with his bright blue eyes. "She will just get mad and make me go home."
How could I refuse such a request, and from such a sad looking boy? So, after some more pleading, I gave way, even though I knew Iris would not approve.
'Aha,' you think. 'This is where I say that I only have the one bed and that Eric can either share it with me, or sleep on the floor. Which will then lead to a night of torrid sex.'
The thought did cross my mind, but in fact I had three spare beds and Eric had to have seen them in the time he had spent in the house. So I put fresh sheets on one of those beds and we retired for the night, separately. The thought of Eric in bed, in the next room, gave me a hard-on. I grabbed my hard cock, but the thought of having a wank seemed such a sterile pleasure at that time with a sexy boy so close, so I turned over and went to sleep.
Something woke me during the night and when I opened my eyes, there was Eric, standing by my bed.
"Can I sleep with you?" he whispered.
"Of course."
I lifted the duvet and he scrambled into bed and snuggled up against me. As I wrapped my arms around him, Eric gave a big sigh and fell asleep. And what did I do? Nothing. What Eric wanted was comfort, not sex, and I couldn't betray his trust. I lay awake for ages, with racing pulse and rigid, straining, cock, before finally falling asleep.
When I woke in the morning, Eric was still in my arms, but turned so that he was facing away from me. My hard-on was pressed against his bum. I gave two quick thrusts against it with my cock, before I could make myself stop. Any more and Eric would be waking with a wet patch on his butt where I had come against him, and I couldn't do that to the boy.
Besides, I badly needed a piss, so I disentangled myself from Eric and got out of bed. I looked down at his angelic, sleeping face on the pillow. It was too bad I was starting to care for Eric so deeply, or I might have found the temptation to ravish him irresistible. And I rather suspected that he would have let me. Instead, I just sighed and left the room.
I was having breakfast when Eric came into the kitchen in his T-shirt and baggy boxers. His hair was badly tousled, he looked three quarters asleep, and his boxers were tented out. Judging by the profile, I could tell there was a boy cock at half mast behind the thin cloth. So close and yet so inaccessible. It was too bad.
"Good morning, " I greeted him.
"Hmmph."
"Do you want breakfast?"
The only reply was a sort of mumble. This was not a morning boy and, taking the mumble as a yes, I got Eric some breakfast.
"Martin?"
"Yes?"
"Can we do something tomorrow?"
"Yes, certainly. What would you like to do?"
"Can we go for a swim?"
"Of course."
"You aren't going to ask Grant and Harry to go too, are you?"
"Well, I think I might, yes."
"But I don't want you to. Why can't just the two of us go?"
"That would be very nice, but it is not very fair on your brothers. We are already doing things together, whereas Grant and Harry probably don't get taken anywhere very often."
"But they are little shits and they always spoil everything," Eric whined.
I tried to explain. "Grant and Harry are the only two brothers you are likely to have. I know that they can be annoying, but if you can be a bit tolerant and make allies of them, then you will always have their support in the future when you may really need it. If you lose their loyalty when they are young, you will never regain it, or their support, in later years. Family can be so much stronger than friends, who come and go and can't always be relied on. I think you should make an effort, Eric. After all, I'm sure you annoy your brothers too, sometimes."
Eric was silent after that little speech and was quiet in the car as we returned to Woodton. Perhaps he was thinking about what I said, or more likely he had rejected my attempt at preaching.
Then it was time to face the mother. Iris was in the kitchen, where the two younger brothers were having their breakfast. Iris was surprised and rather suspicious at seeing me.
"I thought you were staying with your father," she said to Eric.
"He joined me for breakfast," I hurried to explain before Eric could make things worse, "so I decided to bring him home."
While what I said was not false, it was definitely misleading. Truth can be a very flexible thing, when used to deceive. Besides, I didn't fancy the idea of explaining that Eric had spent the night in my bed, when I hadn't even had the pleasure of molesting him.
Iris frowned, but before she could say anything more, Harry joined in the conversation.
"Last week's walk was so much fun. Can we do it again?"
"We are going swimming tomorrow," Eric explained. "Why don't you guys come with us?"
"Hey, cool," exclaimed Harry.
"You are inviting us to go out with you and Martin?" asked Grant.
"Yeah, I guess."
"That's not what you said the other day about Harry and me keeping out of it, or else."
"It doesn't matter what I said. I can change my mind, can't I?" Eric yelled and he stormed out of the room.
All that was left to do was to make the arrangements. I could see Iris' suspicions about why I was spending so much time with her precious babies, warring with the desire to get rid of the brats for a while. The wish for peace won. I drove home, thinking about my fiery boy and his brothers. Perhaps it was too soon to wish for the storms between them to change for the better.
Chapter 6 Water babies
Sunday, swim day. Public swimming pools are marvelous and intensely frustrating places. There are acres of semi-naked boy flesh to feast your eyes on. And then there is the gut-tightening anticipation of the changing room, with the prospect of seeing naked boys. This is frustrating and usually disappointing.
Pre-pubescent boys are unselfconscious creatures who are usually happy to strip naked when changing. I always enjoyed seeing their cute little naked bodies and their cute little dicks, but they were too young to be of sexual interest.
Young men in their early 20s or even late teens are sometimes ready to get naked and display their solid swinging cocks and dangling balls. But while I liked to check out their equipment, and it's only polite to do so if they are going to make the effort to exhibit themselves, they were of limited interest to me.
It was those sexy boys in their early to mid teens, who were in their early flush of puberty, I craved to see. But unfortunately, these are the boys who are the most awkward and self-conscious about their changing bodies, so are most likely to keep them hidden from view. Usually the most that could be hoped for under their long, loose shirts, were glimpses of arse or ends of dicks.
But that morning, I could only wait and see what would happen with the three Jansen boys.
It was the usual business of collecting three excited boys from their home. Eric opened the door for me with a big smile. I thought he looked particularly sexy in his sky blue shorts and gray sleeveless T, though I wished he would lose his white cap as it obscured his sweet face. Grant was almost as tall as his brother. He was also good looking, but had stronger features than baby-faced Eric, with high, prominent cheekbones. Grant was wearing a red T-shirt and tan cargo trousers, which was a pity as boys' legs should never be hidden. And then there was Harry, with his cute little elfin face and cheeky grin, in his blue floral patterned shorts and lime green T-shirt.
We arrived at the swimming pool, where I paid and led the boys into the changing room. They stood alongside me at the bench and I kept an eye on them, while trying not to be seen looking, while they undressed.
The boys kept their tops on as they removed their pants. Oh well, it was only to be expected, I supposed. Under their pants, each boy was wearing brightly patterned satin boxers, which appeared to have become the standard uniform for boys. The boys slipped off their boxers, but as they were modestly turned away from me, all I could see were glimpses of rounded white bums.
Harry glanced in my direction and saw that I was naked, as it was my habit to strip completely before putting on my togs. His eyes instantly focused on my hairy groin, then he looked up at my face, hesitated, and removed his T-shirt. Harry faced me, so that I got a good view of his naked body. His prick was a small spike, with the end of his foreskin tapering to a point, and his balls were an undeveloped mound underneath. And his reason for showing me his naked body? Perhaps he was using my example as a role model; or perhaps it was a sign of friendship and trust; or perhaps he thought naked bodies were vaguely naughty and he wanted to join in on the naughtiness.
The other boys continued to be modest as they quickly changed. When Eric was finished he looked over at me and at my cock, just as I was covering it with my togs. He licked his lips and looked away again as he put his clothes in a plastic bag.
Pools are wonderful places for getting physical with boys. It is an acceptable and apparently innocent way of having lots of bodily contact, grasping and caressing naked flesh, and so on. And what about the boys, what do they think of all this? They are young animals, where it is natural, and even desirable, for them to play together with lots of physical contact. But the way modern western society has developed, it becomes increasingly difficult for boys over about 11-12 years to find acceptable ways to do this. When they do get the chance, they revel in it. Such physical contact during their play is innocent, of course, and yet also sensual. Even young boys are sexual creatures, though not in the way that adults think of it.
So, when we played in the pool, all four of us sought as much physical contact as possible. I tossed them in the air, so that they fell in the water with an enormous splash. That was very popular, but very tiring. We swam towards each other underwater. When I swam underneath a boy, he would sit on my back, so that when I rose for air, he would be clinging to my shoulders. I would attempt to dislodge him, although not very hard, and he would cling tight until he was ready for a different game and let go.
We wrestled furiously, which was a great chance for my hands to rove over the boys' bodies. The only thing was, I often didn't know what part of the body I was touching, and sometimes even which boy it was. Did I ever grab any rude bits? I could only hope. Did they ever grab my rude bits? Well, yes, one time a boy's hand burrowed into my groin and firmly grasped my package for a moment, before letting go. I was surprised, but wasn't about to object. I looked at the boys to identify the culprit, but could not as all I could see were three bright-eyed happy brothers.
Eventually, it was time to get out of the pool and dress. That is, I was exhausted and needed the rest.
"OK boys, it is time to finish our swim now," I told them.
They immediately protested. "Not yet," and "Can we stay a bit longer," and "But we are having fun."
"No, I have to get out as I'm exhausted. Any more and I will collapse. And as we are in the water, that means I would probably drown."
"We'll have to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, then." Harry giggled at the thought.
Now there was a thought, indeed.
"Yes, you would. And who's going to volunteer to give me mouth-to-mouth?"
"Yeech," laughed Harry.
"Gross, no way," protested Grant.
Eric didn't say anything, but gave a thoughtful smile. I wondered what it was that he was thinking. That giving me the kiss of life might not be completely revolting, perhaps? Even his brothers didn't really look very disgusted, in spite of their words.
I could see that we weren't going to make progress, so I gathered the boys into my arms in one enormous bundle, and started wading towards the end of the pool. As I walked, one of the brothers grabbed my cock. He squeezed it and felt the outline of my cock and balls. I immediately went hard, of course, and that exploring hand caressed the outline of my erection, from the base to tip. This was not a quick grope, as happened earlier, but a full exploration of my hard-on.
You would think I would know which boy was playing with my cock, but all I could see were three laughing, squirming boys. I was peculiarly vulnerable because, as my hands were full, I could not grasp that hand, to stop it's exploration or at least discover who it belonged to. And as for the alternative of asking loudly for all around us to hear, 'who is playing with my cock?', somehow I didn't think so. My only real objection was that it could become very embarrassing. I was getting close to coming in my togs, and if I survived that hazard I would have to worry about everyone seeing that I had a hard-on when I got out of the pool.
I made it to the changing room, without coming in my pants, or anyone obviously noticing my erection, though it did shrivel fast enough after I got out of the water. The boys followed me into the changing room and stood, facing me, on the other side of the bench. I removed my togs, so that I was naked before I started drying myself. I was well aware that I was exposing myself to the brothers' gaze. It was an invitation to inspect my man cock and, who knows, it might provide an example for them to copy.
Harry immediately followed suit and stripped naked, happy to do what I did. He was innocent of the sexual undertones of our nudity, although he was very interested in inspecting my equipment. For my part, I was always happy to have another look at his cute little boy prick.
As soon as I had undressed, Eric had stared intently at my groin. He looked across at Harry and saw that he was also naked, looked back at me, then after a pause started to untie the drawstring of his costume.
'That's my boy,' I thought, 'show me what you've got.'
And he did, standing openly for me to inspect him. Eric had a long, slender, tubular cock that was circumcised. His balls were developed and dangling. He had a small patch of blond pubic hair in each corner of his groin, joined by a narrow strip of hair across the base of his cock. It was such a sweet thing, that I could have feasted my eyes on it all day.
I tried not to stare too intently or obviously, or drool too much, but if Eric didn't notice it was only because he was busy looking at my larger and hairier package. Eric was old enough to be sexually aware, probably sexually obsessed like all teenage boys, and his joining me in my nudity was a gift of trust.
And what of Grant? He also had a good look at what I had to offer, but then all little boys like looking at men's cocks to get an idea of what was going to happen to them one day. Grant also saw that his brothers were naked, but after drying his torso he put on his T-shirt. This boy was too modest to display himself. His T-shirt was too long to show anything as he removed his togs and dried himself and I thought it would be rather too obvious to crouch down to look under it. But I'm sure Grant didn't realize when he slipped on his boxer shorts, how revealing that could be. As he lifted his leg to step into them, the bottom of his T flipped up to give me a quick glimpse of his balls and the end of what appeared to be a circumcised prick.
I wondered at one or both of the older brothers being circumcised, while Harry was not. It had become unusual for boys of their generation to be cut, unlike previous decades, such as in my generation, when circumcision had been a lot more common. Perhaps their parents had finally thought better of the procedure after the two oldest boys had been born.
I also wondered which boy or boys had been sufficiently interested to grope me in the pool. But with these thoughts, my cock started to stir, so I thought I had better dress and return the brothers home.
Iris was waiting for us in the house when I delivered her sons.
"Did you thank Mr Lynn for taking you swimming?"
"Yeah, thanks Martin, it was loads of fun."
"We had a wicked time. Can we do it again some time?"
Eric frowned momentarily at that, before smiling at me and saying how much he enjoyed himself.
"That's alright, boys. I really enjoyed myself too."
Oops! Perhaps that wasn't the wisest thing to say as Iris frowned at my words.
"It's very kind of you to spend all this time and effort with the boys, but, really, its too much, and I don't know why you bother. They can be very difficult and you are taking too much trouble
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I tried to reassure Iris that it was no bother at all, but she had not finished with what she had already decided to say.
"For a stranger to do all this, well, we don't need charity as I can look after the boys perfectly well myself. And what you doing with the boys is not
3;, well, it's just not proper. So I want to thank you for all you have done, but you have done quite enough. In fact, I insist that this must stop now and that you must not have anything more to do with the boys in any way."
After hearing that bombshell, Grant and Harry started to protest, but Eric exploded in rage.
"It's not fair," he yelled. "You always spoil everything. We finally find someone who likes us and wants to spend time with us and do things with us. And now that things are going right for once, you are going to stop us seeing Martin and ruin it all. You are
3;, I
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"Eric," I interrupted before the argument could get any further out of hand.
He stopped abruptly in mid-yell, mouth still open, and looked at me. How could Eric even have heard me, let alone respond, as I had spoken firmly but not loudly? Perhaps, in some way, we were becoming closely attuned.
"Why don't you and your brothers leave the room and give your mother and me a chance to talk."
Eric looked appraisingly at me for a moment, then with a jerk of the head for his brothers to follow, he walked out. It was then time to deal with their mother.
"Iris, I appreciate your concerns, but I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. As I have come to know the boys I can see that they are basically good kids. I know that they can be a bit wild at times, but I have begun to care for them and all I want to do is help. I know that life is difficult for you and the boys, and that your ex-husband is no help at all."
Iris looked unconvinced. "That's all very well, but
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"I know that you are a good mother," I interrupted, "And that you do a fantastic job." Liar, liar, pants on fire; I didn't think any such thing. "But the boys do need a male role model and I would feel privileged if I could help with this. I do care for your sons and I promise that I would never do anything to harm them."
"I don't know," Iris replied, as she started to look increasingly uncertain. "Life gets so hard at times."
"Yes, of course, and if I can take the boys out sometimes, that will make life a little bit easier for you. I think you will find that the boys will be happier and better behaved around the house."
Iris sighed, no doubt tempted at the thought of getting some peace and quiet every once in a while. "I will have to think about it."
That was all I was likely to achieve, and it was time to let Iris think about where her self-interest lay. I suspected that Iris' concerns for her sons were mostly because she felt that society expected her to worry about them. So I said goodbye and left.
Eric followed me out to the car. "Is it going to be alright, then?"
"Yes, I think so."
"So, I can see you again?"
"Yes, if you want."
"Cool."
Eric briefly laid his hand on my arm through the open window of the car and stepped back to let me leave.
"See ya, lad," I said as I drove off.
"See ya, Dad," he replied with a cheeky grin.
Dad? I liked the sound of that, but found the implication that it made my desires incestuous rather disturbing. And my promise to Iris that I would never harm her sons? By her definition, I would likely break that promise if I had the opportunity. But I did care for them and they would never be physically or mentally worse off for knowing me. If we happened to have a bit of mutual pleasure in the meanwhile, I didn't define that as harm.
As I drove home I thought that, being someone who likes to keep a very calm and controlled life, it was disconcerting to become involved with such a stormy, emotional boy.
Chapter 7 Friday night fever
I was standing at the kitchen bench the following Friday, when I heard the front door open and a cheery voice call out "Hey Martin."
Eric bounded into the kitchen with an enormous smile.
"Gidday, Eric. It's nice to see you again."
He stood beside me at the bench to investigate what I was doing and, when I put my arm around his shoulder, snuggled up against my side.
"What are we having for tea?"
We? It seemed that I had a guest.
"Pasta."
"Again? We had that last week."
"Well, if you don't want pasta, you could always cook tea for us," I suggested.
"Oh, that's OK. Your pasta's not too bad."
"Just bad enough, eh?"
Eric laughed.
"Is it alright if I stay the night?" Eric asked me as he helped me prepare the meal.
"What about your mother? Does she know you are here?"
"I told her I was staying with Dad, but he's gone out again."
I raised my eyebrows at this.
Eric raised his chin in defiance. "Well, can I?"
"We'll have to see."
Eric smiled, as he took this as a yes. I thought he was probably right as it was a battle I was unlikely to win, and didn't want to win.
After tea, we settled on the sofa for an evening of TV, Eric wrapped in my arms. I breathed in the aroma of boy, which was slightly earthy and unwashed, it is true, but I also inhaled clouds of testosterone, or at least I imagined there were and that I could smell them.
Several hours later, after Eric had gone for a piss, he returned and lay on the sofa with his head away from me, and with his bare legs draped across my lap. I put a hand on his right leg and started stroking his ankle. I looked across at Eric's face to check his reaction to my caresses. He was looking at the TV as if unaware of what I was doing, but he was smiling slightly.
I took this as an invitation to continue, so I stroked and caressed his lower legs from his knees to his feet. I massaged his narrow feet and finely formed toes. Sucking a person's toes is meant to be erotic and I thought of trying it and of seeing Eric's reaction. But then I thought better of it as it might shock him too much. All this time, Eric looked as smug as a cat, baking in front of a roaring fire. Much more and I expected to hear him start purring.
But even as cats in front of the fire must move eventually, Eric moved his feet so that they were flat on the sofa, leaving his knees pointing towards the ceiling. I looked over at him, but he was still watching TV. Eric was wearing baggy shorts, a modern boys' fashion that I thoroughly approved of. I looked down at his legs and, yes, I could see right up his shorts. The view was heavenly, leading past his smooth white thighs and ending at his groin. That was, unfortunately, still hidden from view by his boxers.
You might wonder why I was so eager to get a look at Eric's dick, when I had already seen it at the pool. But, like any addiction, once is never enough and it had only whetted my appetite for more. Besides, there was something highly erotic and tantalising about his clothed, but suggestive, body.
Those boxers showed no sign of gaping open to reveal what lay beneath, so I looked up, only to find Eric gazing at me. I blushed violently at the embarrassment of being caught cruising his crotch, and looked away.
"Sorry," I apologised.
"Did you see anything?"
My ears burnt even hotter. "Don't worry, no. Look I am very sorry. I shouldn't have looked and I don't know what came over me."
"I don't mind."
I looked at Eric in surprise. "Huh?"
Eric grinned. "Can you see anything now?" And he moved his legs even further apart.
My eyes were drawn back to the view up his shorts, but his boxers still hid their prize. "Um, no."
With a quick look to make sure that Eric was OK with my action, I grasped his knees with my hands and moved them closer together, then further apart.
"No luck. It's those damned undies of yours."
"Oh. Perhaps we had better go to bed, then."
Was this really the invitation it sounded like? Eric's grin had disappeared and he looked slightly nervous, but he got to his feet, grabbed my hand and pulled me off the sofa after him. As he led me into the bedroom, I began to think that perhaps Eric really did intend what I thought. But even if Eric wasn't thinking of sex, I didn't think I would be able to stop myself this time.
I removed my shirt, but Eric just stood in the middle of the room, looking serious and a little uncertain.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.
He nodded his head. Sex was new to Eric and he wasn't sure what he should do. As the adult, it was up to me to take the lead.
"Do you want me to help undress you?"
Dumb question. This was a teenager, with all the pride and insecurities of that tribe. It had been years since Eric had needed help undressing. But he nodded his head again.
I grasped the bottom of Eric's T-shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his narrow boyish chest and small wisps of blond hairs in his armpits. I knelt before him, so that I could reach into the top of his shorts and untie the drawstring. I pulled down his pants and Eric supported himself by placing his hands on my shoulders, so that he could step out of the pants legs. I took his boxers and slipped them over his hips, to reveal his family jewels.
They were so delightful, and so close that I could see the faint sign of veins under the smooth shaft of his cock and the soft wrinkled texture of his balls. His bush was sparse and I could easily see individual hairs. The sight was irresistible, and I bent forward and kissed the head of his cock.
Eric gasped and his little man began to swell and stiffen and stand up proudly, no longer such a little man. At the sight of his hard-on, my own cock became hard and uncomfortably tangled in my clothes, but that wasn't going to be for much longer.
I stood and pulled back the duvet on the bed.
"Why don't you get into bed," I suggested.
That was a very sexy sight, seeing my boy lying on my bed, erection hard against his belly, waiting for me. I removed the rest of my clothes and stood naked before Eric. His eyes widened as he stared at my hard-on as it quivered in the air, with the swollen head a deep red. My erection was only a little longer than the boy's, but it was much fatter than his slender rod.
I joined Eric on the bed and gathered him into my arms in an embrace. We gazed into each other's eyes, then I gently kissed him on the lips. I opened my mouth slightly as we kissed, but Eric's lips were firmly closed. I could feel his heart beating against my chest, his cock was a rigid bar pressed against my belly, while mine was pressed between his thighs. I had to be careful I didn't lose control too soon.
I ran my tongue over Eric's lips, which were as soft as moths' wings and observed his surprise. I wasn't kissing with my eyes closed as I didn't want to miss a single moment of our love making. I pushed my tongue between his closed lips and pressed against his teeth and finally he opened his mouth and let me in. I explored the inside of his mouth and caressed his tongue with mine. Eric lay passively for a while, but then began to respond.
We tongue wrestled, until tired tongues and tender lips dictated that we break contact and rest.
"Wow," Eric exclaimed, "that was great. I never knew kissing could be so wicked."
"It can be, if you do it with the right people."
He smiled. "You must be the right people, then."
"As are you, my boy. As are you."
With my hand I stroked down Eric's back and cupped his bum in my palm.
He gave a mock frown, then grinned. "Hey, that's my arse you are holding there."
"So? What's your point?" I slipped my fingers into the crack between his bum cheeks and poked at the entrance to his hole.
Eric looked surprised at the invasion. I was going to enjoy introducing Eric to the surprises and pleasures of sex.
He frowned again. "You aren't going to fuck me are you? I don't think I'd like that."
"That's OK, there are lots of other fun things we can do."
Eric smiled. "Yeah? Like what?"
"Whatever you like."
I released his arse and brought my hand to his chest, where I began to stroke his chest and play with his nipples. When they became erect I gently trailed my fingers down his torso to his belly button, making Eric shiver in the process. I grasped his cock and I could feel it throbbing and hot in my hand. I released it from my grasp, to an 'Oh' of disappointment from Eric.
But the only reason I did this was so that my mouth and tongue could follow my hand's path. I teased those hard little nipples, to a gasp from Eric at the discovery how sensitive they had become. I explored the depths of his innie navel and finally came to the ultimate target. I looked at Eric's hard-on then glanced up at his face. He was staring at what I was doing with eyes wide open, hardly daring to hope what he thought might happen was actually going to happen. But there was no way I was stopping at this stage.
With a quick movement I engulfed Eric's cock with my mouth. I heard him gasp at the sensation. I plunged my mouth down to the base, so that I could feel the head of his cock pushing against my throat and my nose was rubbing against his narrow strip of pubic hair. His crotch had a somewhat unwashed and sweaty boy-smell, which only added to my excitement. I withdrew and massaged the head of Eric's cock with my tongue, as he moaned.
I plunged to the base and back to the head and that was too much for the boy as he moaned again and with an 'Oh, Martin,' he squirted in my mouth. I savoured the taste of his little gift before swallowing it.
I returned to the pillow, alongside Eric. He lay, stunned, at the sensations he had just experienced.
"Better than wanking?" I asked him.
"Oh, yeah, it was unbelievable. Did you swallow it?"
"Of course."
Eric wrinkled his brow at the thought of swallowing spunk, then looked thoughtfully down at my cock, which was rock hard and in urgent need of attention. I suspected he was not sure about what he was expected, or wanted, to do. Eric grasped my hard-on and the feeling of his boy's hand was almost enough to send me over the edge, but I was not after a wank. I removed his hand from my cock.
"I've got something better in mind," I told him.
"Um?" Eric looked uncertain, but I decided to spare him from giving me a blow job. This time, anyway. It was time for some frottage.
I positioned myself above Eric so that our cocks were aligned. I supported myself on my hands and knees, partly because I was too heavy for the boy to support my weight, and partly so that our cocks would only touch with the most gentle of caresses. I began to rub my cock against his in a thrusting, fucking movement. It had been semi-soft after his orgasm, but it quickly became erect again. Another half dozen thrusts and I came.
Did I ejaculate gallons of spunk that flooded the bed and spread on the floor? Well, no. I don't know about other men, but my balls were a normal size and could only hold the normal modest amount of jism. All that effort and mighty orgasm goes to produce such a small volume, that you look at afterwards and think in disbelief 'Is that it?'
After spurting my little deposit, I collapsed and rolled onto the bed besides him.
Eric looked down at the puddle on his belly and smiled. "Yuk, you came all over me. What a mess."
"Well, I had better clean it up then, hadn't I," and I scooped up a sample of spunk with a finger and popped it in my mouth.
"Gross," Eric laughed. He paused, then "What does it taste like?"
"Delightful."
Eric grinned. "Yeah, but you think your own cooking tastes nice."
I laughed. "Hey, don't be rude. Why don't you try some?"
"No way, man."
"Go on, try it," I urged and scooping up another finger of spunk I started to bring it towards his mouth.
Eric tried to stop me, grasping my arm with both hands and rolling his head from side to side on the pillow, laughing and protesting as he did so. But he didn't manage to stop me from bringing my finger to his mouth and smearing cum across his lips. Perhaps he didn't try quite as hard as he could.
Eric grinned, then abruptly rolled on top of me and kissed me firmly on the lips. "There, you can have your stuff back now."
"Lovely. There's nothing like spunk-flavoured boy's lips."
Eric lay on me, with his head on my chest, while I gently stroked his back and bum. And so we passed into sleep
The next morning was much as I might have expected. A very sleepy boy eventually turned up in the kitchen, dressed in boxers that were tented out in the front. He came up to me for a good morning hug and I gave his little stiffie a friendly tweak. Eric was monosyllabic during breakfast, partly because he was still half asleep, but I wondered whether he was also considering the previous night and what he now thought about it.
When I returned Eric to his home, I was tempted simply to let him out of the car and leave, but I saw his mother at the window, so decided to go in and face up to her.
"Hi Mum," Eric said cheerily as we entered the living room. He had wakened during the drive and was ready for the day.
Iris looked at her happy son as he ambled through the room and out to the back of the house, then she turned her gaze to me.
"Good morning, Mrs Jansen," I greeted her.
"Mornin'. Eric stayed with you last night, didn't he?"
Oops, she had gone straight for the kill, but unfortunately I had never been very quick or convincing in my lies.
"Well, er
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"I can tell he did. Eric's never in such a good mood when he has been with his father."
"Um, yes, actually he did."
Iris stared at me thoughtfully, almost sullenly, while I waited to see how she would respond. This was the critical moment when Iris would decide whether she would accept my presence in her sons' lives. Iris sighed and her shoulders slumped a little as some of her inner tension was released.
"Well, his damned father certainly doesn't do Eric any good. And he has been better behaved since meeting you, so at least you seem to be a good influence on him. I suppose if Eric stays with you every once in a while, it can't do any harm."
"Thank you for your confidence. I will always take good care of him." I hesitated, as I wondered whether this was a good time to see whether I could take advantage of Iris's current mood. After all, it could change again in the future. "You know, if you ever need a baby-sitter for all three boys, I would always be happy to have them at my house for the night."
"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," Iris quickly replied. Then it was her turn to hesitate as she thought about my offer. "Actually, some friends did invite me to go clubbing with them tonight. I turned them down, of course, as it's so hard to get a baby-sitter for the boys."
Yes, I could imagine that most baby-sitters would only last the one time.
"Why don't I look after them tonight. It would be no trouble"
Iris considered this, doubtfully at first, then with some resolution as she made her decision. "It'd be nice to get out of the house and have some fun for once. Yeah, sure, why not."
And so it was decided. I arranged to pick up the boys after tea, then left. Eric had been listening from the next room and he followed me out to the car.
"I wish Grant and Harry aren't coming tonight. We won't be able to do stuff like we did last night."
"Yes, it is a pity, but I'm sure there will be other times." I leered at the boy. "We might even think of some other fun things to do."
Eric grinned, then narrowed his eyes. "You are not going to be doing any stuff with Grant and Harry tonight, are you?" he demanded.
"I have no idea what's going to happen tonight."
"Martin! Not
3;" he lowered his voice, "sex. That's just for the two of us."
"You will always be my special boy," I assured Eric, "and we will always have our special times alone. I don't especially wish to mess around with your brothers and I won't start anything. But if they want to have a bit of fun, it seems unfair to stop them. I can't promise not to do anything."
"Don't you dare," Eric warned me sternly. "You are not sexing with Grant and Harry tonight and that's final. Or else!"
And with those words, Eric stalked back to the house. I started driving home.
Why didn't I promise not to fool around with Grant and Harry? It was a foolish thing to do, when it put my relationship with Eric at risk. Eric was my special boy, who I not only lusted after, but also cared about deeply. While his brothers were cute, even sexy, I felt no great need to have sex with them. I didn't even have any indication that there was the faintest prospect of anything happening.
But I also realised that if the opportunity did arise, I wouldn't be able to turn it down. I had had sex with boys so seldom over the years, I knew that I wouldn't have the willpower to refuse if Grant and Harry wanted some fun. I couldn't lie to Eric about that, as it was so important for Eric to know that I was always truthful to him.
I sighed as I considered the storm I was risking with Eric.
Chapter 8 Boysitting
I returned to Woodton that evening to collect the brothers. They were smartly dressed, with Eric wearing khaki cargo shorts and a grey striped hooded top. Grant was in grey cargo shorts with red trim, a yellow checked shirt and a green jersey. Harry was wearing powder blue shin-length shorts and a yellow T-shirt. They looked to be wearing their good clothes, suggesting that the boys had dressed up for the occasion.
We drove into town, with the younger boys chattering in the back and Eric sometimes joining in from the front. We stopped off to rent a video, where after much discussion we settled on Star Wars, Episode 1, then continued on to my home. After we arrived, Grant and Harry bounced around the house, like a pair of puppies investigating new territory. I told them to put their overnight gear in one spare bedroom, and Eric his in the other.
Eric frowned as he looked at where he was to sleep that night, until I whispered in his ear "Perhaps you can join me later when the others are asleep." He grinned briefly at the thought.
We settled down for the evening to watch the video. Was it an evening of perfect serenity? Not likely! Instead there was a more-or-less constant low level of bickering. These were perfectly normal young boys, after all, and they had a lifetime's habit of squabbling with each other.
Part way through the movie they were having a bout of swearing at each other, when I told them "Hey, that's enough of that." The boys did become quieter after that as we watched the rest of the film.
After the movie was finished, I said "OK boys, you need to have showers before you go to bed."
'Oh, yeah,' you say. 'This is just a cunning plan to get their clothes off.' It wasn't, honest. I was just following Iris' instructions. Besides, I rather thought they probably did need a good wash.
There were groans of protest from the brothers. "No Martin, we don't need to shower," was the response.
"I'm afraid you do. Your mother gave strict instructions for you to wash. Who's going to go first?"
There was silence, then Eric said that he didn't care and he may as well go first, and he disappeared out of the room.
When Eric returned after showering, he was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and had his pyjamas in his arms. I wondered if this meant that he was going to dress in the living room.
"OK, Grant, Harry, who's next?"
"Harry can go next," offered Grant.
"Grant can go next," suggested Harry.
"Why don't you both go at the same time?"
"What? Shower together?" Grant was taken aback at the suggestion.
"Yes, sure, why not?" I replied.
The two boys looked at each other and giggled. It was a novel idea that sounded like fun.
"Yeah, OK," and "Why not," they said and they left the room with more enthusiasm for showering, I suspected, than they had shown for some considerable time.
Eric sat on the sofa besides me, still clad in only his towel, while we waited for his brothers.
"Aren't you getting into your pyjamas?" I asked, anticipating him removing his towel and always being ready for another look at his cock.
"Yeah," he replied, but made no move to do so.
I felt slightly desperate in frustrated desire to see Eric naked again.
When Grant and Harry returned, they were laughing and pushing at each other.
"That was terrible," laughed Grant. "Harry took up too much room."
"You hogged all the water," returned Harry.
"Well, you were poking me."
"You were poking me with your thing," said Harry and he took a swipe at Grant's groin.
"Was not," retorted Grant as he avoided the swipe.
Grant had his towel wrapped around his waist, while Harry held his in his hand. Harry pranced around the room, ineffectually and not very seriously, trying to dry himself. His naked body was an image of promising boyhood, with skinny limbs, undeveloped muscles, little boy dick jutting out above a tight scrotal mound, and small rounded butt. He was an impish, appealing little morsel.
Grant dried himself where he could reach with his towel held around his waist, which was limited. Then with a sly glance at me he removed his towel to start drying his upper body. He was facing me and instantly my eyes dropped to his dick. At last I was getting to cruise the third of the brothers.
Grant was, as I had thought, circumcised. His dick was a good length for a boy of his age, but the head was relatively small and so the shaft tapered slightly from the base to the head. Grant's crotch appeared to be completely hairless, but his balls had started to develop and hang freely. Grant was close to the onset of puberty, but wasn't quite there.
I looked up at Grant's face, to find that he was observing me. He knew what I was doing, and was old enough to realise that my interest could be sexual, but made no attempt to hide himself from my stare. I wondered why he was so calmly, almost deliberately, displaying himself to me as he had previously appeared to be such a modest boy.
Harry noticed that Grant was now naked as he perambulated around the room and, with a mischievous grin, he grabbed a corner of Eric's towel and yanked it off him.
"Hey, watchit," Eric complained, but he made no attempt to retrieve his towel or to cover himself.
I looked down at Eric's limp cock as it nestled in his lap, along with clustered balls and nest of hair. I thought it looked far better than any floral arrangement, and much more edible.
"Now we are all in the nuddie," crowed Harry, as he waved his and Eric's towels in the air.
"No, we're not," said Grant with an evil smile. "Martin still has his clothes on."
"Then let's get Martin naked," Harry yelled and he leapt on me, followed a moment later by Grant and then by Eric.
I lay helpless under the pack of three naked boys as they grinned down at me.
"Take his shirt off first," ordered Eric and three pairs of hands undid the buttons and pulled my arms out of the sleeves of the shirt.
"Now take his pants off," said Grant and he undid my belt and fly.
He paused, uncertain whether I really would allow this intrusion. Grant was uncomfortably aware that children did not take such liberties with adults, even in play. Eric knew, of course, that I would be happy to be naked with them, while Harry was too young to be aware of, or concerned about, the social rules of proper behaviour. So, with no hesitation on their part, Eric and Harry grasped the legs of my shorts and pulled them off me; half dragging my boxers with them until they were stopped by the base of my cock, leaving my bush showing above the waistband.
Then, laughing in triumph, the brothers ripped off my boxers, leaving me lying exposed to their gaze. They had already seen me naked at the pool, but there the situation was quite different. We had been undertaking the serious and proper business of getting changed, and the polite fiction was that we didn't notice each other's naked bodies. This evening was more intimate and sexually charged, even if the younger boys didn't fully realise it. We were now in a situation where we could acknowledge each others nudity.
"Martin's got a hairy sausage," announced Harry in glee at the delicious naughtiness of what we were doing.
I looked at Eric and raised my eyebrows. He shrugged his shoulders and, with a smile, patted me on the shoulder. He wouldn't object to whatever happened that evening, and I was beginning to suspect that a lot might happen.
The hungry stares of three naked boys and thoughts of possible sex games was too much for my cock and it began to swell and stiffen. It rose to the vertical, then back so that it pointed along my belly, twitching and jerking in the desire for release.
"Martin's got a stiffie," announced Harry, as if there was anyone in the room who was unaware of this. "It's huge."
Perhaps it was by a young boy's standards, but at six and a half inches [16 cm] it wasn't remarkable for a man. Not that I was about to tell the boys that.
"I didn't know it got that big," Harry said, staring in fascination at his first erect man cock.
"Oh, I knew that," said Eric.
"Me too," said Grant.
Two boys looked at Eric and all three laughed. Then two boys looked at Grant.
"How d'you know?" demanded Eric.
"In the pool."
"So it was you who groped me in the pool?" I asked.
Grant grinned.
"And did you feel me up twice, or was that someone else?"
"That was me," admitted Harry with a giggle.
"What!" exclaimed Eric in disbelief. "You mean you both groped Martin? You horny bastards."
"Well, you did more than that last night," Grant responded.
Oh, yes, how did he know? I looked at Eric, who blushed.
"You told your brothers, didn't you?"
"I may have said something," he admitted.
I looked back at Grant and Harry and their eager, lustful, faces. I began to realise that I had been set up. The boys knew that I would probably be interested in sex and they had decided that, if the opportunity arose, they would make the most of it. And Eric must have decided that he would accept that.
"If you guys have already touched Martin's stiffie, I'm going to also," said Harry and he firmly grasped my hard-on.
I gasped at the sight and feel of his little hand holding my cock, with his index finger and thumb not quite meeting around the shaft. That was all the invitation I needed and I reached for his boyhood. My fingertips caressed the delicate area between Harry's legs and I could feel his immature marbles and wee willie resting in the palm of my hand.
Grant licked his lips and cleared his throat. When he spoke his normal treble voice was husky with anticipation. "Are you going to suck us, then?"
I glanced at Eric, but he appeared calm. "Yes, if you want."
"Cool. Suck me first," Harry demanded.
"Nah, you're too young to be sucked," said Eric.
"Am not too young," Harry objected. "Will you suck me? Please, please, please!"
With the warmth of my hand and the excitement of the moment, I could feel Harry's prick stiffen.
"Harry's little Harry thinks he's ready," I said and I removed my hand to reveal his erection.
His spike was considerably bigger than when soft, and it jutted into the air at an angle, but his foreskin still covered the head. I lay Harry on the sofa, then bending over his naked body, took his prick in my mouth. I teased the foreskin back from the head with my tongue, then plunged down his shaft until both prick and ballsack were in my mouth. It wasn't a very large mouthful and easily done. In fact, it was entirely comfortable to have in my mouth, with a slightly funky taste where Harry had failed to clean under his foreskin.
I settled down for some serious sucking. One of the boys, perhaps Eric, put his hand on my back and gently stroked me, from shoulders to arse.
"What's it like, Harry?" Grant asked after a minute or two.
"It's nice."
Nice?
"See, I told ya you're too young," Eric said.
I thought he had a point as I wasn't getting any response from Harry. I released my mouthful and sat up.
"I have an idea. Just stay there and I'll be right back." And I went out to the bathroom.
I returned with a jar of Vaseline and my straining hard-on lead me back to the cluster of naked boys at the sofa with their hard little dicks waving in the air. Kneeling to my task, I coated a finger with the jelly and slipped my hand between Harry's bum cheeks.
"What are you doing?" he asked in puzzlement.
"When I suck you off, I'm going to push a finger up your arse."
"Yuk, that's dirty. Want do you want to do that for?" Harry asked.
"Because it will make you feel good, trust me," I assured him. "You have a magic button up your arsehole and when I push that you will get this fantastic feeling." I hoped that Harry's prostate wasn't too immature and that I was telling the truth.
"Magic button!?" exclaimed Eric and Grant, who clearly didn't believe me.
Harry rather doubtfully let me go ahead. I massaged his softening prick with my tongue until it was rigid again, then pushed my finger against the entrance to his arse. There was a little resistance, and then it slid in. I was surprised at how easily my finger had penetrated his little boy ring, which I had expected to be very tight. I decided that as Harry had come to know and trust me, he became completely accepting of what I might do. Harry had no sense of violation at having a finger up his back passage, so he was completely relaxed and did not resist my finger's entry.
I loved the feel of his ring muscle and the warm softness of his rectum as I probed with my finger. And then I felt something small and round; I had found my target.
"Ooh!" Harry's voice was high in surprise at the sensation.
Harry began to groan as I massaged his prostate with my fingertip. Under the double assault of finger and tongue, Harry began urgently to thrust his prick against the roof of my mouth. Then his whole body went rigid and, with a strangled squawk, he reached orgasm.
I released the boy and sat back. Harry lay limply as he recovered from the effects of his orgasm, which was dry but intense.
"Wow," was all he could manage.
Eric and Grant looked amazed and excited at the effect on their young brother.
I bent over Harry. "How are you doing?"
A wide smile spread over his face.
"Let's get you off the sofa so Grant can have his turn."
I gave Harry a quick kiss on the lips and, as he wrapped his arms around my neck, he firmly kissed me back. This was a little boy's kiss with closed mouth, but one of happiness and affection.
I turned to Grant, Harry still wrapped around my neck. "Ready for a blow-job?"
Grant nodded. He looked serious, almost nervous, but his flushed face and hard cock showed that he was ready and willing.
"Huh? What's a blow-job?" asked Harry. "You didn't do that to me."
"Oh yes I did, muffin-boy. Sucking someone's cock is what is called a blow-job, just don't ask me why." And I gave him a gentle slap on the bum as a signal for him to let go of me.
As Grant lay on the sofa, I picked up the jar of Vaseline.
"Finger up the arse for you, too, is it?"
Grant frowned and shook his head. "I don't think so, it's too weird."
"Go on," urged his younger brother. "It feels terrific. There really is a magic button up there and when Martin pushes it, it's like, oh
3;" Words failed the boy.
Grant looked doubtful, then nodded his head. "OK, I will give it a try, but if I don't like it you will take it out, alright?"
"Of course," I replied.
I brought Grant's rigid dick off his belly with one hand, so that I could slip it into my mouth. But then I paused. I nibbled down the side of Grant's shaft, but I what I was really interested in was a closer look at the base of his cock. And yes, there were four lonely black hairs.
"Hey Grant, you've got your first pubic hairs. Did you know that?"
"Yes I did," he replied with considerable pride in his voice.
"Let me see," said Harry and his face appeared by mine as he inspected Grant's pubes. "Cool. Eric, have a look."
"Hey, what about me?" Grant complained. "I'm waiting for my blow-job here, while you guys are admiring my dick."
"Sorry," I replied and I popped his popsicle in my mouth.
I moved my mouth down Grant's shaft, until my nose was touching the base of his belly and I could feel the head pressing against the entrance to my throat. I heard a soft 'aah' from Grant as I started sucking his cock.
I slid my hand with Vaseline coated finger between Grant's bum cheeks and probed the entrance to his arse. As I pushed at his arsehole, the muscle tightened in protest. I played with his pucker, feeling the texture and getting Grant used to the presence of my finger, then pushed harder.
"Ow."
As I forced my finger in Grant's back entrance, I could feel his ring clamp down on the tip of my finger. This was a tight little arse that rejected the intrusion.
"Ow, that hurts. Take it out Martin, OK?"
I paused in my blow-job. "Just relax and push out like you are trying to have a shit. It'll be worth it, I promise."
I had promised to remove my finger if Grant asked and I was going to, eventually. I returned to the frontal and rear assaults. With to-and-fro movements I slowly forced my finger up Grant's arse. Then, as it reached his prostate, his groans of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. With the stimulation by my finger and the effect of my sucking, Grant's cock quickly got to the stage where it gave a throb and with an 'aah' from the boy, he came. I felt a small squirt of a thin watery fluid on my tongue.
I sat up and smiled down at Grant as he lay, recovering from his orgasm, softening dick lying on his belly.
"That's my boy. I didn't know you could shoot spunk."
"I can't."
"Oh? You can now."
I milked a drop of watery fluid from his dick onto my fingertip and held it up for Grant to inspect. Harry and Eric also looked very closely at the prize.
"Well, it looks like there's no sperm yet, but you are producing fluid and the sperm won't be far behind. Why don't you taste it?"
Grant shook his head. "Nah."
"Go on, a boy's first cum is a milestone that should be celebrated in some way. It tastes fine."
Grant refused again, but Harry impulsively stuck out his tongue and licked my finger clean.
He wrinkled his face, then grinned. "Hmm, yum. I just ate some of Grant's sperms. I'm going to have his baby."
That boy had a weak grasp of biology, but a good grasp of devilry.
"Hey, Harry," Eric laughed. "That finger has just been up yours and Grant's poop chutes. How do you like the taste of your own shit."
"Ooh, gross. That's disgusting." Harry made retching noises and frantically wiped his tongue on the back of his hand. "Martin, I didn't did I?" and he looked at me pleadingly.
I smiled and held up my hands. "Different hands," I reassured Harry, to his great relief.
I turned to Eric. "Are you ready for your blow-job?"
"Absolutely," he replied with a broad and eager smile and he pushed at Grant so that he could take his place on the sofa.
"And do you want a finger up the arse?"
"Yep, gimmie the works." He lay back, open and vulnerable, his erection throbbing in anticipation.
I coated my finger with some more Vaseline and felt up Eric's crack for the entrance to his arse. I pushed the tip of my finger inside and massaged the muscles of his rose before pushing further. Eric's face was intent on the sensations from below. His arsehole was tight, but there was little real resistance as he accepted the intrusion of my finger.
As I finger fucked him and Eric began to moan in pleasure, I bent and began to suck his cock. Very quickly, Eric shot his creamy, salty load into my mouth. I raised my head to look down at my boy. He held out his arms for a hug, so I lowered myself into his embrace and gave him a kiss. Eric's tongue eagerly darted into my mouth and searched for traces of his spunk. He looked thoughtful as he considered the taste and what he thought of it.
I looked over at the two naked spectators who had just watched their older brother being sucked off with great interest.
"Did Eric's dickie make stuff?" asked Harry, eyes sparkling. Being naked with his brothers and having fun, rather than fighting, was a new and unexpected pleasure.
"Yes it did," I replied.
"And you swallowed it?"
"Sure did."
"Yuk."
"Eric, you want to be careful when ya go kissy kissy with Martin," said Grant. "You might end up tasting your own spunk."
"But I did," Eric replied and he licked his lips in a mime of pleasure.
"Gross. You're weird, man, for tasting your own spunk. And doing it from another guy's mouth is even worse."
"It's Martin's turn now for a suck-job," Harry announced. He wanted the game to continue.
'Bless you, Harry,' I thought. I had been wondering how and when I was going to persuade the boys to wrap their cute little lips around my cock.
The three boys looked down at my erection, which by this stage was almost painfully hard. Eric and Grant looked dubious, as they considered whether they wanted my prong in their mouths.
"Are you ready to go first, Harry?" I asked.
He thought about it, then giggled. "OK."
He grasped the base of the shaft and inspected my hard-on closely. A clear fluid oozed out of the piss slit.
"Have you pissed yourself?" he asked.
"No, that is pre-cum."
"What?"
"That's a sort of appetiser. The spunk is the main meal."
"Is it nasty?" Harry wasn't sure about this.
"No, it's not. Try it and see."
Harry hesitated, then took a swipe with his tongue. The feel of a little boy's tongue rasping across my cock-head was almost enough for me to give him the main meal and desert too.
"It's not too bad," Harry decided and he popped the head of my cock in his mouth and licked it clean.
He sat back, grinning in triumph. Why was Harry prepared to do this? He felt safe and cared for in the affectionate atmosphere, and trusted that we wouldn't make him do anything unpleasant. He had the natural lack of inhibitions of a small boy, which was only helped by the intimacy of our nakedness. He was ready to try anything we suggested as part of this new adventure called sex. And if something seemed a bit yukky, that only added to its appeal.
"It's your turn now," Harry told Grant.
Grant was not at all keen to have my cock in his mouth, but after his younger brother's example, he felt he had no choice. He bent over my lap and took the end of it into his mouth. He quickly moved his lips up and down the shaft a half dozen times, then released my cock with a grimace of distaste.
Why didn't Grant want to give me a blow-job when he was ready for an evening of sex with us? As he approached his teenage years, Grant had become sufficiently old and self-conscious that he had developed the conventional male view of what was proper and acceptable and what was an affront to his dignity.
'And what bit of the evening was proper and acceptable?' you ask.
The common heterosexual male attitude was that it was OK for another male to suck your cock, if there was no outlet available, as it was 'only getting your rocks off'. But to blow another man implied an interest in his cock that was regarded as queer.
'That's OK,' I thought, 'I don't mind.' But I decided that if Grant was going to continue in our sex games, he was going to have to take everything his brothers did. And I thought he was already enjoying it more than he was prepared to admit. After all, no-one had forced him to do anything that evening.
I looked at Eric. He was eager for his turn and his dick was hard again in anticipation. He bent over to take me in his mouth, but my cock had been so stimulated it felt as if it was about to explode.
"You had better be careful," I warned him. "I'm about ready to come."
"I don't mind," Eric replied and he started sucking.
The sight of Eric's face in my lap and the sensation of his mouth and tongue on my cock was too much for me and I spurted. Eric choked a little at the sudden emission, but he swallowed my spunk boyfully.
"Erggh." Eric didn't look like he really enjoyed the taste, but with a cheeky grin he said "Just like your cooking." Then he was in my arms and returning some of my gift from his mouth to mine.
And why had Eric decided he was ready to suck my cock and to take my cum? We were lovers and he wanted to explore every aspect of sex with me. This was only possible, however, because of the developing love and trust between us.
We rested a little afterwards, to recover from the excitement, and watched some TV, but none of us bothered to put on any clothes.
When it was time to go to bed, Harry came to me for a goodnight kiss. He kissed me on the lips, while I patted his bum.
I turned to Grant. "Are you ready for your goodnight kiss?"
"That's so babyish," he grumbled, but he came to me and submitted to a peck on the lips and pat on the bum. Under that tough exterior was a small boy who wanted to be loved.
I looked at Eric.
"I'll give you your goodnight kiss later," he promised.
Grant and Harry went off to their bedroom, while Eric went with me towards mine.
"Are you sleeping with Martin?" Harry asked.
"Of course." Eric took my hand possessively.
We were in bed and cuddled in each others arms when I asked him, "Didn't you mind when I messed with Grant and Harry?"
Eric thought about it for a few minutes. "You are my special friend, but if you want to do stuff with Grant and Harry sometimes, I don't mind sharing you. After all, they are just my brothers and we are kind of keeping you in the family. But you are not allowed to do anything with anyone else, do you hear?" he warned me.
"I hear you; I belong to the Jansen boys."
Eric smiled happily, gave me a quick kiss, and fell asleep.
Eric was my stormchild.
The End
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