Into Ian


This story is a work of fiction, meaning it did not take place.  It contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent which may be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live.  If this is the case for you, please read no further.  I do not condone the actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story. 

This story is probably technically copyrighted, but I reserve no rights.  Use as you see fit.

Other stories on Nifty  by Mark Adams:
  1. Temptation of Adam - My first attempt at publishing a short story on Nifty.
  2. Playground of My Heart - A brief memoir of a gay youth.
  3. Goodnight, John Boy - A not-too-deep or apologetic story.

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Into Ian - Chapter 1

As a teacher in a small suburban city northeast of Dallas, I'm constantly surrounded by boys.  And, as a lover of boys, it would be reasonable for you to assume I'm constantly seducing-- or planning to seduce-- one beautiful child or another.  But you'd be absolutely wrong, dear reader.  Despite my profound attraction to younger males, it has never crossed my mind to actually act on any of these desires.  I'm quite happily married, have a wonderful son, and a reasonably comfortable life.  No, I felt truly blessed to just be surrounded by wonderful children, helping them in a mentoring role at what I feel is the most important phase of a young person's life.

I teach fifth and sixth grade math, which is most of the students' least favorite subjects, and I realize that.  As a result, I do my best to make class as enjoyable as possible, and try to give the students practical applications to what they're learning.  I must do a reasonably good job, as many parents have thanked me for opening their child's mind to the fact that math doesn't have to be difficult and can, in fact, be quite enjoyable and useful.

My son, Josh, is in sixth grade at the school where I teach, and is a fairly popular boy.  He's as smart as a whip, a star soccer player, the first chair flautist in his band, a red belt in Tae Kwon Do, and a patrol leader in his Boy Scout troop.  The list goes on and on.  I'm a doting father and, like most families in this small town which seems centered on education and youth, I am quite active in various youth activities.  Among other things, I serve as an assistant soccer coach on Josh's team and as an Assistant Scoutmaster in his Boy Scout troop.  I was an Eagle Scout when I was a child and have many fond memories of my scouting experience and, even though I find the current experience a bit watered down and hyper-sensitive, it is still very enjoyable and a great opportunity to play an active role in my son's life.

My wife, Bonnie, is a successful real estate agent in North Dallas and, although she is also involved in many of our son's activities, she's often working in the evenings and on weekends when folks are generally available to look at homes.  So she is rarely available to attend any of the scouting events that keep us busy at least one weekend a month.  But she's an excellent mother and a very supporting wife.  Her income often averaged three times my own, but I was not an insecure man-- at least not in that regard.  I was pleased that Bonnie had a career she enjoyed which happened to provide well for our family.

We met back in college, and we were initially just very close friends.  As a result, she knew me when I was experimenting with and questioning my sexuality back when we were both undergraduate students.  Bonnie, however, is thoroughly heterosexual.  Although that may sound strange, I'm certain there are a lot of people in a similar situation.  I elected to live a life 'in the closet' and married my best friend because everything I wanted in my life, such as teaching or having my own children, required I at least act straight.  Furthermore, after dabbling in a couple gay relationships throughout my sophomore year, I soon realized I wasn't really attracted to men, but to younger males, perhaps 13 or 16 years old.  My life as an openly gay male seeking a temporary relationship just didn't make sense after that realization.

So just what did Bonnie see in me, a gay male?  She married me because, in her words, I was everything she wanted in a life partner; I just happened to be predominantly homosexual.  As she figured it, the passion and lust were one of the first things to fade in a relationship, but sharing a life with your best friend-- the one for whom you would do anything-- is what keeps a relationship growing and strengthening over the years.  I'm certain there are many who would scoff at such a notion, but after 15 years of marriage, I love Bonnie more than I've ever loved another.  True, there have been times where our choice has been difficult and the confusion of my orientation has occasionally caused strain on the marriage, but that's where being married to your best friend comes in.  I had always been faithful to my lovely bride, and she's had faith in me.  Furthermore, our focus on raising Josh has been central to our relationship and our desire to do our best for him has helped ease us through some of the tougher times.

We had built a comfortable life together and had everything we desired.  We had a loving and healthy son, a lovely four bedroom home we'd had built two years ago, two late-model cars, a truck, a motor boat which we used often on the nearby lakes, and we had reached a point where we no longer had any debt-- not even a mortgage.  We had everything but the white picket fence, but only because our Home Owners' Association wouldn't allow it.  Everything was nearly perfect until last year, when I met Ian.

On the first day of school last year, when the new students began to file into my fifth grade math class, I was standing at my desk in front of the classroom looking toward the door, checking out the new crop of students.  Most looked timid, fresh from elementary school and still a tad overwhelmed by changing classes, having no recess, and such.  I knew from experience that would all fade by the end of the week or the beginning of the second week, but I always enjoyed that first day.  The school had adopted a school 'uniform' policy this year (to which I was an outspoken critic), so all of the kids were dressed in their new school clothes, Docker style pants or shorts and solid color polo shirts.  I watched all the new students as they made their way into the room, excited, nervous, and perhaps a bit hungry since this was the class right before the lunch period.  All in all, they were a fine looking group of kids, but I admit I was paying particular attention to the boys.

As I said earlier, my attraction to younger males was a constant in my life, but I had somehow carved out a part of my heart and mind which was almost entirely separate from my 'real' life.  I was friendly with all kids and considered them almost sacred and, though I didn't avoid touching them, I restricted myself to respectable boundaries.  I had developed a fairly extensive fantasy life which excluded my wife and son and I accepted that as a small cost of the choices I'd made.  But in the process, I'd found the age of the boys who intrigued me begin to slip lower and lower, down from the upper teens when I was in college, to (at times) as low as four or five years old. It's not as if I actually felt there was any realistic way to have a relationship with a child or that actually touching a child that young was good or healthy, it was just fantasy.  But it was a fantasy that was slowly creeping at the edges of my real life.

Because of how close we were in most ways, I think Bonnie was painfully aware of my attraction to boys, though I'm still certain she chose to believe I was primarily attracted to 'older' boys, in their teens, for her own mental health.  But she knew a young boy could occasionally turn my head and steal my attention from whatever discussion we were having, leaving me stuttering and wondering what we'd just been discussing.  Over the years, we'd even discussed, in a roundabout way as the subject arose, intergenerational relationships, and Bonnie had made it clear she felt that someone who had those types of desires was not inherently evil, but that crossing that line most certainly was.  I believe she was indirectly informing me that I was safe as long as I never acted on my fantasies, and that's more than I could have hoped for; more than I deserved.  But I was on notice.

I was standing there at my desk, smiling at the students as they made their way into the class, filling in the seats, from the back to the front, just like at church.  I could already spot the suck-up, the class clown, and the potential trouble maker.  I say that half in jest, because Texas schools (especially in my district) are notoriously more disciplined than many others.  The bell started to ring, just as one final student came rushing through the door.  And when I saw him, something stirred within my soul.  I've seen many a beautiful boy, and even had a rating scale of sorts.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who does, but I'd never seen a genuine '10' in all my life.  There were several who had approached that rating but, for the first time in my life, there he was, entering my classroom-- the boy who broke the scale as well as my resolve.

When his eyes met mine, it felt as though my heart had stopped.  I felt an instant longing, as if he were the spark which had ignited a long dormant memory, leaving me breathless and a bit dizzy.  I actually held the edge of my desk to steady myself.  His eyes were a pale, blue-gray, the kind that are so uncommon they almost force you to stare.  His blond hair was cut somewhat short, and I noticed the hair was somewhat matted with perspiration at his ears and the front was somewhat longer and kind of sticking up in front, combed that way intentionally.  He appeared to be quite tan, but that could have been because his hair was so light.  His features were remarkable, as if carved by a master sculptor, and had a slightly European look.  His nose was small, his brows thin, and his eyelashes were quite long, almost effeminate.

All this I noticed in the time it took him to find one of the last remaining desks, all of which were at the front of the class, because time had seemed to slow down upon this boy's entry.  Trying to regain my composure, I sat in my chair, facing the class.  I shuffled through some papers without breaking eye contact, taking a deep breath before I began.

"Welcome to sixth grade math, everyone," I told the class.  I couldn't help but stare at the boy who had nearly been tardy on his first day.  The children were silent and attentive.  "Please be in your seats and ready for class before the bell rings."  I said it to the class, but I was looking at one student in particular, and he lowered his eyes to the desk.  The separation of his eye contact finally allowed me to break my gaze.

I had a little introductory speech prepared for my classes, which basically introduced myself to the students, and that probably saved me.  "My name is Mr. Adams," I began, and I smiled, scanning the room. "You may call me Mr. Adams."  The class laughed lightly.  I went over the basic school and class rules rather quickly since they'd already heard them several times already that day.  I scanned the class roster before beginning to take role.  Which one was the mystery boy?  "When I call your name, please raise your hand and tell the class a little about yourself.  Thomas Anderson?"  I looked up to see if this could be the boy god, but it was not.  Another boy raised his hand, telling the class something about himself.  Having calmed down, I stood up from my desk and moved to the front of it, leaning against it and calling a couple more names.  Each raised their hand and gave a similar introduction.

I reached a name I wasn't entirely sure how to pronounce.  "Ian Con... Conag..." I stumbled.

"Conaghan, sir," the mystery boy politely informed me, raising his hand.  I looked up from the attendance sheet to the boy who had nearly thrown me off my game.

"Thank you, Mr. Conaghan.  Would you please tell us a little about yourself, Mr. Ian Conaghan," I said, trying the full name on for size.

"I'm a new student," he began, and a few students snickered because, as fifth graders, they were all new students at this school.  He smiled, realizing what he'd just said and I noticed he had deep dimples in his cheeks and that he was wearing braces.  "I mean I just moved here a week ago.  From Austin."

"Oh, really?" I asked.  "How are you liking it so far?"  Our town was growing rapidly, so it wasn't unusual to have new students moving in throughout the school year. I just wanted to hear more of his amazing voice.

"I really like living so close to the lakes." He grinned like the little kid he was, his eyes shining brightly as if lit from behind.

"Any activities?"  I inquired as I drank him in, savoring every detail and memorizing every feature.  In addition to his mesmerizing eyes, his ears were exquisite.  How could ears be exquisite?  His lips were full and moist, and I watched his mouth as he spoke.  Did I imagine that sparkle from his braces?

"I like soccer, band, camping, and water skiing."  As he went through his list, I saw his eyes were smiling as well.  He'd fit in just fine, it seemed.  "I also like PE, and English.  And social studies."  He'd practically recited his class schedule, leaving out math of course, and I had to smile.  I'd have to see if I could add a favorite to his list.

"Well, welcome, Ian Conaghan."  There were a hundred other questions I wanted to ask him, but there were other students and a limited amount of time.

"Thank you, sir," he said.


During lunch, I sat in the teachers' lounge, picking at a sandwich and thinking about Ian.  I just couldn't shake him from my mind.  He seemed to have it all.  A beautiful face, an athletic body, a lovely voice.  And, of course, spellbinding eyes.

"He's a new student from Austin," I heard one of the nearby teachers saying, and my ears perked up.  I looked over to the table next to mine, where a few female teachers were seated.

"Quite a looker," another added, and I thought they must be talking about Ian.

"Did you notice his eyes?" the third one asked, and I knew they were talking about Ian.  As silly as it may seem, I envied their ability to comment on and discuss Ian's beauty so openly.  Of course, they were not speaking lustfully, but I knew I had no such outlet.  I had often wondered how women seemed to be able to openly admire the beauty of a child, to hug and hold them, and even kiss them or talk about how cute their 'bottoms' were, even with the child's mother without any sort of stigma attached.  Perhaps it was the result of a seemingly all out media assault on pedophiles, the confusion of child rapists and murderers with those who loved children.

My mind immediately shifted to Josh, and I wondered if I could even consider accepting an adult lusting for my child.  No, I don't think I could.  I had never consciously felt any sort of sexual attraction to my own son despite his incredible beauty, and perhaps that was some sort of subconscious way of protecting him from his own depraved father.  Or maybe it was just that my paternal affection for him, having changed his diapers and spent long nights awake with a sick child.  Whatever the reason, I was at least fortunate I'd never had to deal with the implications of any of those emotions.  So I could understand completely the aversion to someone lusting after my own son with one part of my mind, while longing for someone else's with another.

As quickly as the subject of Ian had come up, the ladies had moved on to gossiping about some fat kid, and how it was really the parents' fault.  I had to agree with their assessment, since obesity seemed to be my single turnoff, but I was no longer interested in eavesdropping since the subject had changed from Ian.  I stood from the small table and threw the mostly uneaten remains of my lunch in the trash.  I needed some peace and quiet, and decided to go back to my classroom.  I just needed to get Ian off my mind, or at least find a way to deal with it.

As I approached the classroom, I saw Josh sitting in the hall against the wall outside my room with, of all people, Ian.

"Hey, Dad!" Josh greeted me, as he saw me approaching.  He hopped up from the floor and ran up to meet me.  My son was still at an age where he wasn't yet embarrassed to hug his father, and he did so.  I kissed him lightly atop his blond head, smelling my sweaty boy, a scent I could recognize blindfolded.

"Hey, sport.  What're you doing here?"

"I wanted to introduce you to Ian, but he told me you're one of his teachers."

"Hi, Mr. Adams," Ian said as he extended his hand to me, and my heart skipped a beat.  I really needed to get control of myself. His hand was flawless, his fingers perfectly proportioned.  He had one of those rubber bracelets supporting something or another-- they were all the rage.

"Hello again,"  I replied as I took his perfect hand into mine, shaking it.  I noticed that, despite how soft and small his hand was, his handshake was firm and he nodded his head once without breaking eye contact.  Someone had taught him well.  I reluctantly let go after a respectable amount of time.  "How are you liking your new school so far?"  I asked, rubbing my hands together as if to transfer some of that energy to my other hand.  I looked down to his tiny waist, cinched with a belt that was a bit too long, the end of it protruding and hanging a bit.  I furtively looked below the belt and noticed how his pants poked out at the fly and wondered if boy parts were pushing the material forward enticingly, or if it was just fabric jutting forward.  I couldn't tell.

"It's great!" he replied enthusiastically.  "It's way better than my previous school."  His smile was beautiful.  Now that I was closer, I noticed how perfect his teeth looked and wondered if that was a result of his braces or if his parents were, like so many others in this upper income area, simply vain and seeking to make their childr perfect.  It didn't matter either way to me, since I had a particular fascination with boys who wore braces.  It was merely one in a long, and growing list of fetishes I was developing in my overactive fantasy life.

"But anyway, Dad," Josh interrupted, "I was wondering if Ian could come over after school to play?  He just moved into Jimmy's old house."  Jimmy Murphy had been Josh's best friend since we had moved into the half-built neighborhood, before his father was transferred to Australia by his company.  The homes in this area all had the garages in the back, and the rows of houses backed onto a narrow alley, and the Murphy family had lived in the house just behind ours, across the alley.  I'd noticed a family had begun moving in to the house, but I hadn't introduced myself yet, not wanting to interfere with their moving process.  What were the chances of Ian moving into that particular house?

"Sure, that's fine," I said, a bit too enthusiastically.  I was excited by the prospect of Ian being Josh's new best friend; and living right behind us.  "But you know the rule about the pool."  Although we had a neighborhood pool, we had chosen to install a swimming pool for ourselves when we had our house built and, while it had been a considerable splurge for me, it was a veritable boy magnet and I considered the steady stream of topless boys in my yard a excellent return on investment.

"I know, Dad.  No swimming without adult supervision."  He rolled his eyes, having heard this prohibition a million times, give or take.

"You've got a pool?" Ian asked us both, obviously excited.  "Cool!"  Ian was a very animated boy, and I loved his almost over exaggerated facial expressions.

"Uh huh," Josh replied.  "And a hot tub, too."

"Cool!"  Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"Remember we have scouts tonight, too, Josh," I reminded him and Josh nodded.

"You're in Boy Scouts?" Ian asked and Josh told him he was. "I'm in Webelos, but I haven't found a new Pack, yet."  His voice was so smooth and pure.  And so... sexy, I thought.

"You should join my old Pack, and then when you cross over, you can join my Troop!"

" That would be awesome,"  Ian stated sincerely.  "I wish I was already in Boy Scouts."

"How old are you, Ian?" I asked.  I knew he was somewhere between ten and eleven, probably the latter.

"I'll be eleven on January 12th," he told me.  I just wanted to know his age and, after he told me, I had no response.  So I just stood there like an idiot.

"Ok," Josh said.  "Let's go."  They turned and began to walk down the hall before Josh stopped and turned around.  "Oh yeah.  Thanks, Dad!" 

"Yeah, thanks Mr. Adams!" Ian added over his shoulder, equally excited.

I was admiring how Ian's torso tapered gently into his khakis and his perfectly formed butt as they made their way down the hall.  "My pleasure," I told him.  And I meant it sincerely.


I made it home a little earlier than usual that afternoon, just before four o'clock.  Although we both went to the same school, Josh would often ride his bike home since we lived so close and I usually stayed after school a while for meetings, to grade papers, or to prepare a lesson for the following day.  But, this being the first day of school, there were no papers to grade and... well, I also wanted to be at home while Ian was still there.  I thought a bit more about the situation with Ian after the final class let out, and I felt a lot better.  I decided I'd just been a little overcome with seeing my first real '10' that day, but there was really nothing to worry about.  I was a grown man with a lot of self-control, and I'd always overcome the occasional infatuation.

I laughed openly at myself on the brief ride over from school, and marveling at my own reaction when I met Ian.  It was like I was some silly school girl, penciling Ian's name out on my notebook with hearts.  No, I didn't do that, but it didn't really seem so silly to me anymore.  I chuckled again, as I turned into the alley behind my house.  But, as I pulled into the driveway and saw a bicycle lying in the driveway next to my son's, a familiar surge ran through me.  I reminded myself to calm down.  Ian was a student, and he was my son's friend.  And he was only ten years old.

I entered the house and heard the boys immediately, horsing around in the family room.  As I rounded the corner, the boys were playing tug of war with Tigger, our two year old German Shepherd.  The boys had changed into their play clothes, and Ian was wearing a pair of gray nylon shorts, the kind that only come down to mid-thigh, and a sleeveless white tee.  Tigger was pulling on the chew toy, and Ian was down on his knees, bent over with his rump facing me.  The shorts were silky smooth, and I could tell he was either wearing boxers underneath or... or nothing.  Ian was giggling and jiggling, and each time he pulled the toy toward himself, his ass would thrust out, and I thought I could see a bulge where his balls should be.  Oh, this was going to be more difficult than I thought.

"Hello, boys," I said, making my presence known, and they paused just long enough to return my greeting.  Tigger instantly ran up to greet me, however, and I crouched down to pet him.  Josh then sauntered over and hugged me around my shoulder while Ian spun around to sit on his butt, his legs splayed enough that I could see up the leg of his shorts enough to know he was wearing boxers.  My eyes lingered only for a moment before I raised them to stare into his eyes.

"Hi there, Mr. Adams," Ian said, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.  I thought he may have seen where I had been looking only a moment earlier but that might have just been my own guilt.  He crossed his legs and, for a split second, I thought I may have seen more than just his upper thigh as he did so.  "How was your first day?"  I was impressed with his manners and I had to smile.  His feet were bare and I noticed his feet looked simply delicious.

"It was pretty great," I told him, looking back to his face.  "How was yours?"  Josh stood from my side and resumed the game of tug of war half-heartedly with Tigger and I stood as well.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed.  He stood from his seated position and moved over toward me, putting his hands up and outward.  Was he asking for a hug?  Did he want me to pick him up?  He moved up closer, and I put my arms out slightly.  I didn't want to look like an idiot, but I didn't want to refuse whatever he was seeking either.  He didn't seem to be bothered about looking foolish, and just walked up and wrapped his arms around my torso, giving me a quick but friendly hug.  I returned the gesture, hugging him around his shoulders, feeling his warmth-- his body heat as well as his friendliness.  Some kids are just affectionate, and I'm not averse to hugging my students from time to time, but we'd only met a few hours before.  His body felt so small in my arms, all bones and muscle.  He released me almost immediately after the hug began, and then moved over and hugged Tigger.  I felt like a dork.

When we separated, I glanced toward Josh, wondering if he found the hug strange, but he was just smiling and tugging on Tigger's toy rope.  Of course, I was over-thinking things.  He had no reason to feel anything was out of place.

"Hey, Dad?"  Josh said as I looked over at him.  "Can Ian and I go swimming?"

"I'm sure y'all can, Josh," I replied, and he rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming next.  Ian chuckled, and I guessed he saw it coming, too.

"May we go swimming father dearest?" he asked me.  What a butt.

"Well, probably not today," I told him.  "We need to have dinner and we have scouts after that."

"Oh, Dad, we just want to swim for a little bit."

"Is Mom home?" I asked.

"She's on her way," he replied, "She called just before you got home and said she's bringing home pizza, and she said there was enough for Ian, too.  So we have a couple hours to swim.  If you'll watch us," he added with a coy smile. 

I looked over at Ian and, as usual, he was smiling at me expectantly.  How could I resist that?

"Do you promise to get get ready when I tell you it's time?"

"On my honor."

"Me, too, Mr. Adams" Ian added, though I hadn't placed any conditions on him.

"Ian, will your parents mind if you go swimming?"

"No, sir.  I already asked my Mom and she said it was fine as long as it was ok with you.  And I brought my trunks," he added with his own coy smile.  "Just in case."  That smile had me hypnotized.

"Ok, then," I told them, and they began whooping it up.  Tigger joined in their excitement, bouncing around as if he were going swimming, too.  Josh and Ian zipped up the stairs to change with Tigger in tow.

I headed for my bedroom, which was on the ground floor, to change out of my work clothes.  I wondered if the boys would change together, and then immediately chastised myself for the thought.  I wondered, too, if I should change into my suit.  I wasn't sure if Bonnie would want help with feeding the kids, so I decided against it, and changed into some shorts and a tee shirt, just as I heard Tigger running down the hall toward the laundry room, whining.  Bonnie was home.

I headed out to the garage to help Bonnie with the pizza, kissing her as she got out of the car.  "Hello, baby," she said.  "How was your first day?"

"Brilliant, as always," I replied with a smile, reaching into the back seat and getting the food.  "How was yours?"

"Short, thank God," she said.  "But I think the Liebermans are going to put an offer in on the house down on the corner, so I just grabbed some pizza." 

"Cha-ching!" I said, and she snickered.  The house was one of the nicer ones in town, so that meant a fairly nice commission.  Despite how new the neighborhood was, there were already people moving out and others moving in.  We headed into the house and into the kitchen, setting the food up on the counter.  Josh, as if pulled down by the scent of pizza, came jogging down the stairs, running around the bar in just his swim suit to greet his mother.

"Hi, Mom!"  He hugged and kissed his Mom.

"Hello yourself, naked boy," she teased as she hugged him.  "Are you going swimming?"

"Uh huh. Dad said it was ok."

"Well, ok," she said, glancing at me questioningly.  She knew I didn't normally allow Josh to swim before Scouts.  As much as he loved Scouts, it was always a little stressful getting him to get ready for his troop meetings.  "Where's your friend?  Ian, is it?"  She glanced over at me again, and I felt a little guilty.

"Yep.  He's coming down in a sec.  He's really cool, Mom.  Huh, Dad?"

"Yes, Josh," I told him.  "He's so cool, he's wearing a leather jacket into the pool."  I did think he was cool, but why?  And how could I agree with that?

"Dad..." he groaned.

As if on cue, I saw Ian coming down the stairs first because of where I was standing.  I think I imagined the spotlight and sultry music, but I am pretty certain he did float down the stairs without touching a single one, moving in slow motion.  He was wearing navy blue swimming trunks with a white stripe down each side, which was split up an inch or two.  The trunks hung well below his navel, giving me an expansive view of his lower abdomen and the muscular lines which extended from his hips down into his suit and I thought about where those lines would meet-- right at that pleasant little bulge in front.  The waist band of his trunks couldn't have been too far above his penis and, in fact, it appeared to rest right along his root.  I felt my mouth go dry.

Considering his age, Ian had the most impressive six pack I have ever seen, much more so than Josh's, which I thought was among the best. I could see each individual muscle clearly displayed, and they rippled and flexed as he made his way down the stairs.  His tight little belly button was an inny, which I preferred.  His nipples were merely dime sized and were framed by-- I swear-- a little shelf of pecs.

The suit extended just above the middle of his thighs, and I was thankful he wasn't wearing those trunks that hung down below the knee.  I hated those, and I hated them for the reason I loved the one he was wearing-- they displayed the most beautiful pair of muscled thighs I had ever seen, hairless except for a little peach fuzz on the lower shins.  His knees were perfect for his body, not knobby in the slightest.  I was so taken with his beauty that I heard my son as if he were speaking in some other room.

"Hey, Ian," Josh called out to his friend, "come meet my Mom.  Mom, this is Ian."  I'm not sure who else it could've been, but Josh seemed to be quite proud of his younger friend.

I looked over to Bonnie and, instead of looking at Josh's friend, she was looking directly at me, and in that moment I knew that she knew. Without missing a beat, she looked over at Ian and greeted him warmly.  "Well, hello Ian.  How are you?"  She opened the boxes of pizza on the counter.

"I'm doing well, thank you" Ian told her. "Nice to meet you." He approached her and reached out and shook Bonnie's hand, which made her smile.  "How are you?"

"Just dandy," she joked.  "Are you boys hungry?"

"Yeah!"  The boys dove in to the pizza and I noticed Ian took only one piece while Josh had placed three on his plate.  Josh moved over to the breakfast table and sat down, while Ian stayed with Bonnie and me.

I had noticed that Tigger and I had received hugs from Ian, but Bonnie had not.  Perhaps to even the score, or perhaps from a little lingering guilt, I hugged Bonnie.  She returned the hug before separating.  She asked me "Aren't you going swimming, Mark?"  Was that a set up?

Josh continued eating, but I noticed Ian looked over to me expectantly.  "Yeah, Mr. Adams," he said, "You should come swimming with us."  He flashed me a smile and I again noticed how much I liked boys with braces.

"Might as well," Bonnie told me.  "You're going to have to be out there anyway."  I detected no sarcasm or sigh in her voice.

"Well..." I said, thinking it over.

"Come on," Ian urged.  "It would be funner if you did."  I thought it was unusual Ian wanted me to go.  I don't think any of his friends had ever pleaded with me to go swimming with them before.

"Ok," I replied after thinking it over a second.

"Cool!" Ian said, and with his free hand, he patted me on my shoulder.  I grabbed a piece of pizza and a plate, and moved to the table with Ian following close behind, sitting in the seat across from Josh, next to me.  Bonnie, however, headed down the hall toward the master bedroom, presumably to change clothes.

The boys chatted, and I noticed Ian chewed with his mouth closed and didn't speak with his mouth full, both of which were pet peeves of mine.  Yes, this boy might just be perfect.  Ian ate his pizza slowly, carefully chewing each bite.  I motioned to Ian that he had a little smear of sauce in the corner of his mouth and he just kept chewing, but leaned his face toward me and tilted his head.  I picked up my napkin and I wiped the corner of his mouth, like you would do for a little boy.  He smiled, raising his eyebrows to me in thanks, I think.  It must be something his parents do for him, I thought.  I noticed, however, that his left hand went to his lap and he held his penis through his trunks with his thumb and middle finger.

A little jolt went through me and I looked back up to his face.  He captured me again with his eyes, and held the gaze with a smile.  "Thanks," he told me when he finished chewing, but I noticed with my peripheral vision he gently rolled his penis around between his fingers for a moment before finally releasing it.  I returned his smile, a little nervously.  Was it even possible this boy was flirting with me, I wondered?

"Uh... you're welcome," I told him.  Ian looked over at Josh, and I did as well.  He was already working on his third slice of pizza.  Ian looked over to me again.

"You should probably get changed," he told me.

I stood from the table before realizing I had developed a slight bulge in my shorts.  Only noticeable to me, I thought, but I noticed Ian's gaze had dropped to my waist, or thereabout, for a second before returning it back to his plate and he smiled.

I headed down the hall toward the bedroom, closing the door behind me.  Bonnie must have been in the master bath, and I took my shirt off, looking at myself in the mirror above the dresser.  I still had a very fit body, mostly because of good genetics but also because I exercised regularly and ate a fairly good diet (pizza excepted).  I turned to each side, looking at myself from a couple different angles, generally pleased with what I saw.  For a 35 year old, I was doing pretty well.  My blonde hair had become a bit darker, but I still had all my hair, and I hadn't yet developed the mass of chest and back hair my father had.

"You look fine," Bonnie teased, coming out of the bath.  I hadn't heard her coming and I felt a little embarrassed for my vanity.  She reached around my waist from behind with both hands and her right hand slid down onto my cock.  I'd seen this type of behavior a few times from Bonnie, when she felt my eye was wandering, and I knew well enough to let it happen.  It wasn't as if she was staking a claim, but almost like she was trying to distract me from my obsession.  We never talked about it.  I saw in the mirror she wore no top, and her I could feel her breasts pressing against my back.

She unbuttoned my shorts and seductively slid the zipper down, running the tips of her fingers along my partially erect cock.  "No underwear?" she asked.

"No..." I began, but she just chuckled.  I occasionally went commando, and she wasn't really asking for an explanation.  She wrapped her fingers around my lengthening cock and gently pulled it forward and then back again.  I closed my eyes, putting my hands behind me onto her hips, running my fingers along her silky panties.  I was soon at my full, if uninspiring, six inches.  Bonnie slid down to her knees, turning me around by my waist, my shorts around my ankles now, and took me into her mouth.  I closed my eyes again, but Ian flashed into my mind and I opened them again quickly as if to banish the thought of him.  She wrapped her left hand around my nearly hairless scrotum, above my balls and sliding her right hand along the top of my ass, pressing me further into her throat, down to my neatly trimmed pubes.  Her fingers then trailed down between my cheeks, which she knows gets me going.

A knock on the bedroom door made Bonnie stop, just holding my cock in her mouth.  "Are you coming, Dad?" Josh asked impatiently through the door.

"In just  a minute, son," I called out to him, and both Bonnie and I laughed quietly.  I heard Josh going down the hall.

I put my hands on the side of Bonnie's face and began pumping into her mouth.  She had become quite an avid cocksucker over the years, and I guess my own experience had been transferred to my wife.  I'd never really been sexually attracted to another woman, but sex with my wife was an expression of love, and I'd rarely had any difficulty performing with Bonnie.  I'd never thought of sex with males when having sex with her, either, but now I felt my mind kept wandering back to Ian, and it was bothering me.  I imagined it was Ian's face I was holding, that his full lips were the ones wrapped around my staff.  I kept trying to push him from my mind, but the more I did, the more intense the images were.  I imagined him leaning down in those silky gray shorts and how they matched his eyes, my hands pulling them down and exposing his firm ass and his ball sac, so plump and so tight against his body, just below his rosebud.  I envisioned him sitting at the breakfast table, fondling himself through the swim suit, and pulling them up at edge so I could see his erection, both hidden and visible through the gauzy mesh liner of his trunks.

I shook my head violently, as if to shake the images of Ian from my mind, just as I blew a full load of spunk into Bonnie's warm mouth.  I usually warned her and gave her the option to decide whether this was a swallowing session or not, but this one had come out of nowhere.  I heard her slurping and sucking as my knees began to buckle and, after a moment, she pulled herself up by my waist to face me.  She kissed me passionately, and I could taste my own cum in her mouth as my cock rubbed against her belly.

She pulled away after a little while.  "You'd better get changed if the boys are going to have any time to swim," she told me, running the back of her hand against the corner of her mouth.  She headed off to the bathroom, leaving me standing there with my cock still pulsing and my mind still pushing the thoughts of Ian from my head.  I stepped out of my shorts and opened the dresser drawer, selecting a navy pair of swim trunks which matched Ian's and stepped into them, adjusting my half-hard cock into a comfortable position.  I opened the blinds to allow a little light into the room, and I saw the boys in the backyard, tossing a football back and forth.  I noticed how all of Ian's muscles seemed to work in concert before I grabbed a towel and went out to the patio through the back door.  It was a typical hot and humid August afternoon.

When the boys saw me, Josh tossed the football to the side and they both gave a little cheer.  Something about swimming brings out the best in boys, I think, and these guys were no exception.  "I'm tired of waiting for you guys," I teased, and they groaned.  "Are you ready to swim or what?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Ian, and Josh just did a cannonball right into the water.  Ian laughed out loud and gave me look that seemed to say "Kids..." and I smiled back at him.  "Thanks for letting me go swimming, Mr. Adams," he told me.  I wanted to tell him to call me Mark while we were out of school, but decided against it.  That's not really done here until a parent gives their permission, and I hadn't yet met his folks.  Besides, I needed to keep this relationship from getting too close.

"You're more than welcome," I told him.  He moved over toward me and again gave me a quick hug, and I savored his nearly naked body as it pressed against mine.  I could smell his special scent, all boy, and almost kissed him on top of his head, just before he released me and trotted to the edge of the pool and hopped in.  I watched as he surfaced, his hair now plastered down on his head.  I watched the boys romp a bit in the water as I sat on the edge, dangling my legs into the cool water.  Ian noticed I wasn't in the water yet and swam up to the edge.

"Come on in," he told me, "the water's fine," and I laughed at him.  From his current position, he could stand, the water up just past his waist.  He began pulling on my leg by the ankle and just above my calf, trying to pull me in.  I relished in the touch of his bony hands probing me, and delayed entry into the water to prolong it.  He released my calf and moved his right hand to my left ankle and began pulling.  He was stronger than I thought and I leaned back, shifting my weight for my advantage.  He slid his hands up my legs, under my knees for more leverage.  I noticed he seemed to be looking at my crotch, and I felt my it responding slightly.  To avoid a scene, I gave in and allowed him to pull me in to the water.  He laughed one of those full body laughs and I lunged forward to dunk him.  He continued his melodic laughter, swiftly pulling away and swimming to the far side of the pool.

Josh saw the game going on and wanted a piece of the action.  He swam around to my side and latched onto me, somehow thinking he could dunk me, I assume.  I peeled him off me, lifted him into the air and tossed him into the water, causing him to shriek with pleasure.  I couldn't see where Ian had gone, but then I felt him pounce onto my back a split second later.  His arms wrapped around my chest and he pulled his legs up around my waist, latching his ankles together above my drawstring.

"Gotcha!" he yelled.  I tried to discern if I could detect his bulge against the small of my back, but I could not.  The weight of his body, however, was pushing my trunks down slightly as I tried in vain to escape his hold.  I reached my hands behind me and began to tickle him, just above his hips.  He squealed, but gripped me tighter with his arms and legs, and I really thought I was at risk of losing my suit as it pushed further down, just past my crack.  At the same time, I could feel his heel against my swelling manhood.  I pushed my hands deeper between us, moving toward the lower part of his belly to tickle his tummy when I felt it-- a distinctly firm lump against the backs of my fingers under Ian's trunks.  Maybe it was just the waistband...

Josh was trying to assist his friend by splashing me with water, making me close my eyes against the onslaught.  I began to tickle Ian just below his belly button, and he broke free, swimming quickly away from me.  Josh let out a victory cheer before swimming off toward the diving board, and I wondered if I had freaked Ian out.  I scanned the pool, rubbing my eyes.  He had moved over to the other side of the pool, about 15 feet away.  His back was to me, but I could see he was looking down and his hands were under the water, obviously adjusting himself.  I felt a little guilty until I saw him turn around and smile at me, and he actually winked at me.  Maybe he just had water in his eyes, but I didn't believe that. 

Excited and confused, I pulled my swimming trunks back into place and moved to the edge of the pool nearest me and pulled myself up out of the water onto the edge, leaning forward to conceal my slightly bulging shorts.  I saw Ian making his way back toward my side of the pool, presumably to pull me off the edge again.  I debated whether to repeat our game, but before I had arrived at a decision, Ian was almost there.  I slipped into the pool and turned toward the house to hide the tent in my trunks, and rested my arms along the top edge of the pool.  I saw Josh flinging off the diving board into the water as Ian snaked his hands around my hips and locked his hands together, trapping my erection between the palms of his hands he tried to pull me backward.  I could clearly feel his firmness against my thigh.  He pulled harder and slightly downward, causing the head of my penis to stick out above the edge of my suit under the water.  He ran his clasped hands up along my shaft and squeezed the tip of my penis between his hands.  Up until that point, everything could have been explained away as accidental, but not now...

There I was, standing in the pool with a nearly eleven year old student of mine, masturbating me, his own erection poking me from behind.  I was thoroughly conflicted.  Wasn't this what I thought I wanted, to be seduced by the most beautiful boy I had ever seen?  Or was this the stuff of fantasy only, the reality being too much to comprehend?  I struggled to think clearly, diverted by the movement of Ian's thumbs as they came along the side of my swollen head, his hands still clasped together and pressing my cock through my suit.  I could feel precum lubricating the friction between my cock and his thumbs.  Young boys don't really do this sort of thing, do they?

I wriggled to shake him off of me, or to enhance the pleasure he was giving me--  I honestly don't know which.  I heard him giggling and grunting as he latched on tighter and pushed the front of my suit down further to the base of my cock.  One hand moved to the base of my cock, holding it firmly, while the other began masturbating me now in earnest.  I was approaching the point of no return when something in me clicked.

"Ian," I choked, releasing the edge of the pull and putting my hands on top of both of his small hands.  He stopped for a moment, but didn't release his hands from my erection.  "We need to stop for a minute."  He released me then, and began to swim away and I turned my head to look at him.  His face was sad for the first time since I'd met him earlier today.  He went to the stairs and sat on one of the middle steps, wrapping his arms around his legs.

I pulled up the front of my trunks, trapping my erection with the waistband and, after a moment or two, I moved over toward the steps and leaned down on my knees in front of him.  My erection had begun to subside.

"Are you ok?" I asked him.  I could still hear Josh splashing up a storm somewhere behind me.

"Uh huh," he acknowledged, but said nothing else.  I moved closer and put my hands on his calves.  He looked into my eyes, but he didn't recoil from my touch.

"Did I hurt your feelings, Ian?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Adams.  I didn't mean to."  He looked down toward the knees again.

"It's ok, buddy.  You just surprised me a little."  He looked like he was going to cry, causing my heart to swell into my throat.  I have a very tender spot in my heart for a crying boy.

I'm still not sure why I did it-- perhaps to tell him things were fine, or perhaps to make him feel better. But no matter how many times I've run it back through my mind, I don't believe it was for purely selfish reasons.  But there, in my back yard with my son in the pool and my wife somewhere on the other side of the windows, I slid my hands up his legs, under the water, and ran my hands up his smooth, thighs until I felt the mesh liner beneath the loose legs of his trunks.  His eyes snapped up again to meet mine, his blue-gray eyes moist and his face questioning.  I ran my fingers against the liner along the top edge of his thighs, and he spread his legs a bit, giving me more access.  He placed his left hand on my shoulder as if to steady himself.

Nearly oblivious now to my surroundings, I was now in a world of my own.  There was no sound now but the far away splashing of water and the erotic panting of Ian.

I ran my fingers downward along the liner, reading the somewhat silky, yet coarse material with my fingertips as if it were braille.  My fingers were just beginning to prune up from the water, but that only heightened the sensations as I ran them down between his thighs.  He scooted forward to the edge of the step which caused his legs to separate even further.  I was like a blind man 'reading' another's features as I traced along the inside of his thighs and along his balls, but I could clearly see Ian's sweet face, his eyes half closed.  As my fingers moved back upward, I could feel the mesh material pulled sharply upward by his erection.  I pressed my fingers up alongside his scrotum and could clearly feel his rapid pulse beneath my lustful touch.

He moved his right hand to my other shoulder now, pulling me slightly into him.  I ran my fingers just under the edge of the liner and along his silky smooth, hairless scrotum pulled tightly against his little body.  My fingers met at the base of his small, marble-sized testes and the fingers of my right hand crept further to the fine line of his perineum.  I rubbed it gently and slid one finger backward until I encountered his tight little hole.

Ian grunted lightly which brought me back to reality.  I scanned my surroundings and saw Josh climbing the ladder on the far side of the pool for another dive.  I looked back toward the house and looked at the windows, but the light reflecting on them still hid anything from my view.  I looked over my shoulder toward Ian's house, but could only see the roof line from the pool.

He squeezed his legs together briefly to let me know he was still there, and my hands resumed their exploration of the boy god before me.  I knew I was a little more aware of my surroundings now and knew I should quit while I was ahead, but events were set into motion I was reticent to interrupt.  My cock was rock hard, pressing my suit out obscenely as I heard a splash as Josh dove into the pool again, and I pushed my whole hand inside his liner, cupping his small basket in my right hand, eliciting another groan from Ian before I felt his hand grab mine.  Had I gone too far?

At that moment, I heard Josh swimming up behind me and I quickly pulled my hand out of Ian's pants.  "What are you doing?" asked Josh, and my mind began searching for a plausible reason for the situation.  I began rubbing Ian's powerful calf.

"Ian got a cramp," I lied to my son.  "I'm just trying to work it out."

"Oh, that happens to me all the time," Josh told Ian.  "You need more magnesia in your diet."  I laughed out loud.

"Magnesium," I corrected him.  "Not magnesia.  And potassium, and maybe calcium."  My heart was pounding in my chest from lust and fear.

"Oh yeah," Josh said with a goofy smile. "That's what I meant!"

"Yeah," Ian said, his voice a little shaky.  "Magnesium..."  He smiled at me as I worked out his fake cramp.

"Feel better?" I asked him, continuing the ruse.

"Well, I still feel a bit tight, but I think it'll be ok," he said with another wink.  This boy was sharp.  "Thanks, Mr. Adams.  That felt good."

"Well, let me know if you get another cramp," I told him.

"Oh I will," he said.  "I meant I will tell you if I do, not that I'll get another cramp.  I mean, I probably will get another cramp, but... oh, you know what I mean!"  All three of us laughed, each for a different reason.

We goofed around in the water a while longer, Ian and I still playing a bit of grab ass, though much more cautiously.  It would have looked completely innocent to the average bystander.  Eventually, Bonnie stuck her head out the door.  "Time to get ready for Scouts, guys."  I scanned her face quickly, but detected no awareness of anything amiss.  I'd need to be more careful in the future, I thought to myself.

"Alright, honey," I called back to her.  "Let get out, boys."  I lingered in the water for a bit, waiting for my partially inflated cock to subside, but the lingering images of Ian meant it was probably a lost cause.

"May I go with you guys some time to Scouts?" Ian asked me.  "I know I'm only in Webelos, but maybe I could come along some time?"

"Absolutely," I told him.

"How 'bout tonight, Dad?" Josh asked.

"I can't tonight, Josh," Ian told him before I could answer.  I was going to say yes.  "But maybe next week?"

"We'll see," I said, the typical parental answer, not wanting to sound too enthusiastic.  "I'll need to talk it over with your parents."

"Ok," he said.  "I'll ask 'em, though."  He stood in front of me on the step of the pool and I saw his water soaked suit was pressed against his crotch.  I couldn't determine the size or shape of his equipment because of the folds of the garment, but I could definitely tell he was a boy.  He reached down under the legs of his shorts and ran his fingers along the liner, getting everything back in place.  I shook my head with the realization that my hand had just been in those trunks a couple minutes earlier and I hadn't touched his stalk.

Well, there's always tomorrow...

To be continued...