Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

 

A BOY ISN'T JUST FOR CHRISTMAS

BY

HUGH COX

 

 

T

his story contains scenes of a sexual nature involving an adult male and a boy under the age of eighteen. The characters and events portrayed are totally fictional and any similarities to genuine people or events are entirely coincidental.

 

 

A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

 

A

t this time of year it is traditional to give gifts to those that we care about. If you are a regular Nifty reader, then I'm sure that you care about this site and would miss it if it ceased to exist; something that could happen all too easily if readers continually download stories without making any contribution to its running costs. Why don't you make a donation to Nifty one of your gifts this year; trust me, it'll make you feel good about yourself and give you a nice warm glow inside. Please go to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html and pass on a little of that Christmas spirit.

Thanks, Hugh.

 

PART ONE

 

T

here was no doubt about it; this was going to be the worst Christmas ever. There probably isn't a good time to break up with your girlfriend but just before Christmas is quite possibly the worst; especially when I was meant to be spending the holidays at her place, my parents were with my sister and her family in Australia and my remaining housemates were going to be at my friend's home together.

I suppose I better introduce myself and explain the circumstances that led to my current situation. My name is Chris Anderson and I'm a twenty one year old, third year student at Camford University; one of the most prestigious seats of learning in England. I'm dark haired and brown eyed; an athletic six feet one inch tall, weigh about one hundred and seventy five pounds and have been told that I'm good looking. For those of you who worry about these things my vital statistics are six and a half inches, slim and uncut with a slight upward curve; nothing special you might think but perfect for what was going to occur in the days ahead, not that I had any idea about that at the time.

When I arrived at university a little over two years ago I moved into on-campus halls of residence, like most first year students. I made two good friends very quickly, Mike Rogers and Megan Franks, both of whom were doing the same engineering degree as me and therefore attended the same lectures. Megan and I soon became more than just friends, began a sexual relationship and started looking for a place to live together off-campus. Mike then suggested that we move in with him and another friend of his, Brian Watkinson, who played in the same rugby team as him. Mike comes from a very wealthy family and they were in the process of buying a three bedroom house for him which he intended to share with friends; this would split the housekeeping costs and give us accommodation with a much lower rent than we would pay elsewhere. The house had two large bedrooms and one smaller one; Megan and I shared one of the larger rooms and Mike took the other, while Brian made do with the third one.

For two years we all cohabited very happily; Megan and I together, Mike being joined occasionally by his girlfriend Joanne, who still lived in his home village and Brian either alone or with whichever girl he happened to be shagging that week. As Christmas 2017 approached, we all made plans for the holidays; my parents wanted to visit my sister in Melbourne to see their six month old granddaughter for the first time and enjoy the first real Christmas for my nearly three year old nephew. Megan's parents were kind enough to invite me to stay with them for the holidays and Mike was taking Brian, whose scientist parents were in Antarctica for the winter (summer down there), back to his place. The pair of them also had a lads skiing trip organised for the week between university finishing and Christmas; they asked me along as well but, having been invited to Megan's, I had to turn them down.

Our final lecture was on Thursday the 14th and the boys flew out to France the next morning but Megan and I stayed in Camford for a few more days because we were going out with friends on the Friday night and planned to depart on the Sunday. Then disaster struck, we had a silly argument over nothing and she stormed off home, withdrawing the invitation for the holidays. All it needed was for one of us to apologise but we were both too proud to make the first move and I spent the rest of a miserable week on my own. Several times a day I came close to calling her but I felt that to do so would be like begging her to let me come to her place for Christmas and therefore she should call first in order to re-invite me. The call never came and as the week dragged on, the horrible realisation dawned that the festive season was going to be anything but for me.

 

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T

he following Friday, just after lunch, I was sitting in the living room with a book, turning the pages occasionally but not really taking in the words, when Mike walked in, having returned from his trip. "Hi grumpy, what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked cheerfully. "I thought you were going to Megan's for the holidays."

I glowered back at him and explained what had happened. "I can't say I'm looking forward to spending the holidays here on my own," I moaned. "It's not exactly going to be a very merry Christmas, is it?"

"Is that all that's bothering you?" he laughed. "That's easily sorted, you can come with me and Brian. There's plenty of room at my place, the more the merrier."

"I can't just turn up uninvited. What would your parents say?"

"Don't worry about it, they're used to things like that. Mum's younger brother, my Uncle Tommy, is forever turning up unexpectedly with his latest squeeze."

"That's different, he's family."

"Look, there are twin beds in the spare room where Brian's sleeping and there's always far too much food, so one more mouth to feed won't matter. You won't be turning up uninvited because I'm inviting you and my parents will be delighted to see you at long last, the mysterious tenant they've never met."

I weighed up the options; I could spend the holidays alone and miserable or I could overcome my reticence and accept Mike's kind invitation. It was no contest really and I found myself packing my bags and feeling much better about things, even if I was still a little uncertain as to the reception I would receive.

Mike drove with Brian in the front passenger seat and me in the back. I knew a fair bit about Mike's family but as we went he explained how Christmas worked at his house. His mother came from a titled family, her father was a lord or something like that and their home was a six bedroom, Victorian manor house in Yorkshire. His uncle Tommy was the heir but he was something of a black sheep, having dropped out of university and set off to explore the world. Every now and then he'd show up for a few weeks before disappearing again and, on one of those occasions, he'd persuaded his father to invest in a `dead cert' financial deal that had failed miserably and virtually bankrupted him. Fortunately, Mike's mother had married a wealthy City bond dealer and he'd paid off the debts; in return he and his family had taken possession of the manor house and the lord and lady had moved into a cottage on the estate, something that actually suited both parties very well.

The house had six bedrooms, one each for Mike, his parents and his two younger siblings and two spares, one with a double bed, which was going to be occupied by Mike's paternal grandparents at Christmas and another, with twin singles, which Brian and I would use. The other set of grandparents would be coming up to the main house on Christmas Day making a total of ten, eleven including me; I could see Mike's point that one extra wouldn't make much difference.

It was the Friday before Christmas and traffic was heavy, the journey north took over four and a half hours and it was nearly six before we arrived. As soon as we walked into the kitchen, where Mike's mum was preparing the evening meal and I saw the look on her face, I knew that Mike was wrong and that my initial fears about my reception were about to be realised. "Hi Mum," an oblivious Mike said breezily, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I've invited Chris as well. He and his girlfriend have split up and he was going to be all alone for Christmas, I knew you wouldn't mind."

"Oh Mike!" she exclaimed, "Why didn't you ask first? Your Uncle Tommy's turned up with his latest partner and I've had to give them the second spare room. They're here until next Friday and then they're going to London for New Year; God knows where I'm going to put everyone until then."

"Male or female?" Mike asked.

"Female this time, thank goodness," she replied. "I think your grandparents would've had a fit if he'd still been with his previous boyfriend."

"Tommy's bi," Mike explained to Brian and me, "He turned up last summer with a teenage Goth boy with loads of make-up and piercings."

"Unfortunately, while Tommy and his lady friend are here Brian's going to have to slum it on the couch in yours. God knows where Chris is going to sleep."

"If it's going to be a problem, I can go back to Camford," I suggested mournfully but Mike immediately rejected that idea and his mum concurred.

"He can sleep with me if he wants," a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see a teenage girl that I assumed was Mike's fifteen year old sister, Monica; although she could easily have passed for seventeen or eighteen.

Mike laughed and his mum smiled and replied, "Thank you for the offer but I don't think that's the solution to this little problem."

"If Brian's going to be on my couch then Chris can sleep on Ben's," Mike suggested. Ben was, at twelve years old, the youngest of the three siblings.

"He'll never agree to that," his sister retorted.

"I bet he will," Mike responded.

"Monica's got a point" her mum said. "We'll have to ask your brother if he's alright with it. He's at a funny age and might not be comfortable sharing his room with a strange man."

"Oh come on, Chris isn't that strange," Mike replied. "He's a little odd perhaps but not really strange."

"You know what I mean," his mum replied with a laugh, while I made a silly face at him.

We all trooped through to the living room where, what could only be described as a very cute, blue eyed, blond boy, was watching TV. He looked up as we entered, frowned when he realised that we were all looking at him and asked, "What's up?"

"Mike's brought a second friend home for Christmas and he needs somewhere to sleep," his mum explained. "We're hoping you'll agree to him using your couch."

"No way!" the boy exclaimed. "I'm not having one of his weirdo mates in my room." It looked like Mike's `bet' was going to be a loser.

"That's not a very nice attitude," his mum chided him. "Chris won't have anywhere to stay if you say no."

"Do I have to?" the boy whined, turning his gaze to me and obviously trying to decide just how much of a `weirdo' I actually was.

"No, you don't have to but don't you think it would be the right thing to do? It is Christmas after all."

"Oh, alright then; but he better not snore." I glanced at Mike and he grinned and winked at me, obviously pleased to have been proven correct, although I got the impression that there was something else; a private joke that I didn't understand.

Mike took Brian to his room while a sighing and tutting Ben showed me to his. The house had originally had more than six bedrooms but had been modernised internally, creating fewer but larger rooms that were all en suite. The bedrooms were all on the first floor, two on each side and two at the rear, with a corridor around the inside which overlooked the central hallway. Ben's room was at the end of the corridor, on the left if looking from the front and so only had one other adjoining it, Monica's as I found out afterwards. Mrs Rogers' description of sleeping on the couch as `slumming it' was a little inaccurate; it was a bed-settee, one of which each of the three siblings had in their rooms to provide a comfortable place to relax if they wanted to spend time on their own but also to allow friends to sleep over without being stuck in a spare room. Ben gave me a few brief instructions on how to transform the couch into a bed and pointed out where the spare bed linen was kept. I thanked him for allowing me to stay in his room and was rewarded with a shy smile before his mum called up to say that his dad had arrived home with his grandparents and he hurried downstairs to greet them, leaving me to unpack alone.

When I had finished I looked around the room; a typical twelve year old boy's bedroom with a basically blue colour scheme and posters of sports stars on the walls but no female ones; obviously he hadn't discovered girls yet. The door to the bathroom was in one corner, past the double bed and, like the bedroom, it was clean and tidy without being too neat; the boy wasn't a slob but he was a boy and the place looked `lived in'. I found a spot to stash my wash kit and, as I exited the bathroom, Mike stuck his head round the bedroom door and informed me that it was dinnertime.

During the meal Brian and I were introduced to the rest of Mike's family. His dad, Tim, was a pleasant, easy going man in his mid-forties and he and Mike's mum, Jane, who was a few years younger, were excellent hosts who made us very welcome. Tim's parents appeared to be in their seventies and were a little more reserved, probably unused to being in the company of so many younger people. Monica and Ben were better behaved than most kids of their age and the boy seemed to have accepted the sleeping arrangements that had been forced on him and was reasonably friendly. Uncle Tommy was a real character; a bit younger than his sister, with longish hair in a ponytail and sporting a wispy beard that looked like he'd forgotten to shave for a few days rather than it actually being planned. I got the distinct impression that Mike's grandparents didn't really approve of him and suspected that they would indeed have had a fit if he'd brought the Goth boy with him. As it happened, his current partner was an attractive, twenty something, redhead called Imelda; obviously he liked people younger than himself.

Somehow the conversation got around to why I was a last minute guest and I briefly explained about my split with Megan and how that had ruined my plans for Christmas. "Do you think the two of you will get back together?" Jane asked solicitously.

"I don't know," I replied. "It was just a silly argument but I have to admit we've both been pretty immature in how we've handled it. If something this trivial can cause such a problem maybe we're just not right for one another."

"Don't get down about it," Tommy put in. "There's plenty more fish in the sea."

"Tommy!" Jane exclaimed, "Show a little concern for the lad."

"Well, you know me. I've never believed in getting tied down. A young man like Chris should be sowing a few wild oats." I saw Brian grinning and knew that he would be in full agreement with that sentiment.

I had just taken a mouthful of food and nearly choked when young Ben chipped in with, "Maybe you could have a boyfriend next, for a change."

"Ben!" Jane's attention seemed to be on her in-laws reaction as much as her youngest child and they certainly looked shocked at what their grandson had just said.

Mike didn't exactly help the situation by laughing and then asking his brother, "Are you interested in the position?"

Ben blushed and retorted, "No, of course not. It's just that Uncle Tommy has boyfriends sometimes and I thought Chris might as well."

Everyone's attention seemed to be on me, "No Ben," I finally replied when I'd recovered, "I like girls and I've got no interest in men."

I thought I saw a slight look of disappointment on the boy's face but my attention was soon taken away when Tommy said, "You don't know what you're missing, variety is the spice of life." There was a fair bit of laughter at that, although not from the grandparents and I was thankful when Jane announced that it was time to change the subject.

After dinner Mike, Brian and I went to Mike's room, where he got us a beer each from his fridge and we relaxed and made plans for the weekend. Nothing much was going to happen that night; the other two were shattered from their skiing trip and wanted an early night, plus Mike's girlfriend was out at her work's Christmas party. We decided to go into town the following day and do a bit of last minute shopping, before going to the village pub in the evening to meet with Joanne and her friends. On Sunday, Christmas Eve, we'd go to the pub at lunchtime and then spend the evening with Mike's family; while Christmas Day would take care of itself.

By nine thirty the other two were almost dropping off where they sat and I left them to go to bed and returned to the room I was sharing with Ben. I assumed that he was still downstairs with his family and walked in without knocking; as I did so the boy walked out of the bathroom completely naked. He was about five feet, a slim but not skinny eighty five pounds and his skin was smooth, flawless with the remains of a slight golden tan, apart from a white section around his middle. I didn't see much of his genitals before he squeaked with embarrassment, grabbed his pyjamas from the bed and dived back into the bathroom, giving me a rather better view of his cute, white bum as he went.

I sat on the couch to wait for him to re-emerge and was surprised and a little disturbed to find that I was sporting an erection. Like many boys I had messed around with friends when I was Ben's age, masturbating together, then each other before progressing to oral. I lost interest in their bodies as they matured, discovered girls instead and hadn't seen a naked, pre-pubescent boy since. When I said earlier that I had no interest in men I was being honest and I had always assumed that I was completely straight; now I was shocked to find that seeing a naked twelve year old boy had turned me on. If I wasn't gay perhaps I was bisexual but the idea of a naked man certainly didn't interest me and the alternative, that I was a paedophile, was not a pleasant thought. I had also heard the terms pederast and boy lover but had always assumed that those were just used as excuses for perverts who wanted to abuse children.

My train of thought was interrupted by the boy coming out of the bathroom, slowly with his head lowered and a tinge of red on his cheeks. "I'm sorry Ben," I said, "This is your room and I should've knocked before I came in but I thought you were still downstairs."

"That's OK," he replied with a wry smile. "I kinda forgot that you were sharing with me, I should've taken my PJs into the bathroom with me."

He climbed into his bed while I turned the couch into another, then stripped down to my boxer briefs and headed for the bathroom to wash and clean my teeth. When I came out I switched off the light and got into bed but it was still early and I couldn't sleep immediately, instead I lay awake and thought about what had just transpired. While I was undressing I had watched Ben out of the corner of my eye and was in no doubt that he was studying me intently. Whether his interest was sexual or simply childish curiosity I couldn't tell but, when added to his comment at dinner about me having a boyfriend next and the look of disappointment he had when I dismissed the idea, I began to suspect that he was developing a bit of a crush on me. This wasn't something that I wanted to encourage, so I knew that I'd have to be careful over the next few days to treat the boy correctly and avoid any behaviour that might give the impression that I had any sexual interest in him but without hurting his feelings.

 

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H

aving gone to bed early it was no real surprise when I woke just after six the following morning. I tried to get back to sleep but a full bladder put paid to that idea so I got up, dealt with that little problem and then decided that I might as well get showered and dressed. After the shower I returned to the bedroom to dress, keeping quiet as Ben appeared to still be asleep but when I heard a slight noise and glanced over at him, I was convinced that I saw his eyes closing; he'd been watching me again. Pretending that I hadn't noticed, I finished dressing and left the room making it obvious that I was trying not to wake him. As far as I was concerned he could watch all he wanted and I'd just make out that I was oblivious to it, he was hardly going to rape me after all.

I headed down to the kitchen and sorted myself out with some breakfast; we'd been informed the night before that it was a `help yourself' meal in this house. I started with a bowl of cereal and had just cleared that up and settled down at the table with a mug of coffee and a couple of slices of toast, when Ben appeared, still in his pyjamas and overdoing the, `I've just woken up' routine, with exaggerated yawns and stretches. He sat down opposite me and attacked his cereal with such gusto that I couldn't help but watch him. The top two buttons of his pyjama top were undone (deliberately?) and I found my eyes drawn to smooth skin of his exposed chest, the inevitable result being another erection which was fortunately hidden below the table. When about half the bowl had disappeared he looked up at me and smiled, "You look as if you're enjoying that," I said, returning the smile.

"So do you," he responded, his smile becoming a cheeky grin which tended to confirm my suspicion that he'd exposed some of his chest for my benefit.

"Watching you eat is fascinating rather than enjoyable," I replied and his confident grin faltered and a slight doubt showed on his face. He was obviously trying to make himself attractive to me but my attempts to appear aloof and disinterested seemed to have been successful, so far at least.

Jane walked into the kitchen at that moment, "My god I must have overslept," she joked, ruffling her son's hair and kissing his cheek. "It must be nearly lunchtime if you're up and about on a Saturday."

"Ha ha, very funny," the unamused boy retorted.

Jane and I chatted briefly, that conversation providing sufficient distraction from the boy for my erection to subside and then Tim arrived followed closely by his parents. After greeting his dad and grandparents, Ben disappeared upstairs to get dressed, which removed temptation from my perverted sight and I went through to the living room to read for a while until Mike and Brian put in an appearance.

I didn't see the boy again that morning; the Rogers' were a traditional family who put up their decorations on Christmas Eve rather than several weeks earlier and Ben went out with his dad to collect the tree. Mike and Brian, still recovering from their week away, didn't get up until ten and it was nearly eleven before we headed into town. The place was about half an hour away and it took the same time again to find a parking space at the shopping centre. The three of us planned to exchange gifts and, although Brian and I had been told that we weren't expected to buy presents for the entire family, we'd agreed that we should get something for Mike's parents since they'd been kind enough to put us up for the holidays. I also thought it would be nice if I got Ben a gift to thank him for allowing me to sleep in his room; he'd mentioned that he was going to use any cash gifts that he received to buy the FIFA 18 game for his PS4 so, after checking with his brother that no one else was planning to give him the game as a present, I decided to get it for him. We had a Burger King lunch at one and by three we'd all bought everything that we wanted, had had enough of the crowds and headed back to Mike's home.

When we got back, we went upstairs to wrap our gifts before meeting up in Mike's room to chill out until dinner. We ate earlier than the previous evening, as we were going out that night, then got showered and changed and set off for the pub just after seven thirty. We stopped off at Mike's girlfriend's house on the way, Brian and I knew Joanne from her occasional visits to Camford but the beautiful blonde friend she had with her was a stranger to us. Unfortunately for me, Jo had been expecting Brian's visit and had arranged for her friend, Liz, to partner him and make up a foursome. I was a late addition and, although she'd contacted several more of her friends, none of them had been available at short notice, so we were going to be a slightly awkward group of five.

The pub was packed, unsurprisingly for a Saturday night two days before Christmas, but the five of us managed to squeeze around a table for four and the early part of the evening was very enjoyable. I'm not much of a drinker; Megan never drinks all that much and I tend to match her consumption but that evening I found myself going beer for beer with two rugby players who consider any fewer than eight pints to be a `girls night out'. The real girls were smart enough to go at their own pace but my macho pride forced me to stick with the other two; by the time we'd put away six pints, my head was spinning and Mike and Jo were discussing going to a club in town. Being on my own gave me the excuse to decline the invitation and, despite the other guys' somewhat negative comments as regards my masculinity and sexuality, I said goodnight and weaved my rather unsteady way home.

Jane and Tim were still up when I arrived back and I think that I was able to explain that the others would be back much later before making my way up to bed. I left the light off to avoid disturbing Ben but that only resulted in me kicking and tripping over every piece of furniture in the unfamiliar bedroom. Eventually I found the bathroom, emptied my bladder and somehow made it back to my bed in one piece. Converting the couch in the dark defeated me and I was forced to switch a light on but, when I looked over at Ben, he was completely under his covers and seemingly asleep. I finally succeeded in turning the couch into a bed and removed my shoes and shirt but then made the mistake of lying down to rest before completing my disrobement and promptly fell asleep.

 

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M

egan isn't a great cocksucker but I don't like to criticise in case she takes umbrage and refuses to do it at all. On this occasion she was doing her usual trick of taking the head of my cock into her mouth and wanking the remaining five inches. Then she started to lick my shaft before surprising me by sucking on my balls; after a few moments of this novelty she went back to my cock and amazed me by taking the whole thing into her mouth and throat, something she'd never done before. At this point my alcohol befuddled brain finally engaged first gear and I began to doubt that it was really Megan who was performing fellatio on me; then it changed into second and I remembered that we'd split up and therefore it couldn't possibly be her. Moving smoothly into third gear I recalled that I was spending Christmas with Mike's family and a rapid change into fourth reminded me that I was sharing a room with his younger brother. The final and inevitable move into top gear brought the devastating realisation that I was being expertly sucked off by a twelve year old boy and I burst into full consciousness with a shout of "No!"

As I sat up and opened my eyes, Ben jumped back and looked at me in wide-eyed shock. "What the hell are you doing," I demanded angrily. At that point his face crumpled, he burst into tears, jumped off my bed and ran back to his own, where he threw himself face down and cried his little heart out. By this time I'd pretty much sobered up, my erection had subsided and I was beginning to think that I might just have overreacted; when I saw the boy sobbing away on his bed I knew that I had. Ignoring the fact that I was now naked, I got up, walked over and sat down on his bed, placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry Ben, please stop crying."

"Leave me alone," he responded tearfully, moving away from my touch. "Why do you hate me? I thought you liked me."

Deciding that strong action was required to prevent an unfortunate situation becoming a disaster, I grabbed him with both hands and lifted him from the bed, turning him as I did so until we were chest to chest with his head on my shoulder and my arms were wrapped around him pinning him in place. He struggled for a few moments but I held him firmly until he stopped and then said, "It's OK Ben, I don't hate you. I do like you really; you just took me by surprise, that's all." By this time my left arm was around his shoulders and my right hand was gently caressing his lower back.

"I . . . I'm s . . . sorry," he stuttered, "I was just going to finish undressing you and help you into bed when I got an urge to look at your cock. I know it's wrong but when I saw it I had to touch it and when you got hard I couldn't help myself; before I knew what I was doing it was in my mouth and it was the coolest thing ever."

"Ben, you were very good at it," I replied, "That wasn't the first time you've done stuff with a man, was it?"

He pulled away slightly, looked up at me and shook his head slowly from side to side.

"Who was it?" I asked.

"I can't say."

I was glad he felt that way but I didn't let up. "It was your Uncle Tommy, wasn't it?"

He paused for a few seconds and then nodded reluctantly. "He did stuff with my brother when he was younger and still does with my sister, he's taught all of us about sex." To say I was shocked by that comment would be the understatement of the year.

"How far does he go?"

"All the way with Monica, so she said but Mike insisted that he only did oral; he didn't want Tommy to fuck him."

"What about you?"

"We started doing stuff last summer. I wanted him to fuck me but he said he wouldn't until I could shoot. The last few weeks I've started to produce a little bit of fluid when I cum, so I hoped he'd do it this time. That's why I didn't want you in my room; I thought it would stop me doing stuff with Tommy. Then, when I saw how you looked at me I thought maybe we could have fun together."

"What do you mean `how I looked at you'?" I interrupted.

"Tommy didn't just do stuff with me, he gave me a lot of good gen too; like how to spot guys who like boys by how they look at them."

"But I've been deliberately doing the opposite," I protested.

"Tommy said that paedophiles will look right at me and give me what he called `the come on'," he replied with a grin. "He also said that I should avoid guys like that."

"I haven't done that."

"No, you've been watching me out of the corner of your eye. Tommy said that boy lovers are much more subtle; they watch boys surreptitiously, make friends with them in a non-sexual way and let the boy take the lead. That's what you've been doing with me. He told me that if I'm going to do stuff with a man, then I should pick a boy lover and not a paedophile."

"I didn't know that there was such a big difference."

"He said that a paedophile is only interested in his own pleasure, whereas a boy lover gets his kicks from pleasing his boy."

"What makes you think that I'm a boy lover? I've got a girlfriend you know."

"An ex-girlfriend you mean," he responded, causing me to wince, although I think he was just being honest and didn't intend to be hurtful. "The way you look at me shows that you find me attractive but this is the real giveaway," he said, taking hold of my cock which I hadn't realised was erect again.

"Ben I don't think this is a very good idea," I said, moving his hand away, "you're only twelve."

"So it's my age that's the problem, not me being a boy. Does that mean you'd do stuff with me if I was older?"

"No, if you were older I wouldn't find you attractive."

"I knew it! You do fancy me then."

This conversation wasn't going well at all, a twelve year old kid was running rings around a supposedly intelligent engineering student; clearly I hadn't sobered up as much as I thought.

"Ben it's illegal for me to do anything sexual with you. If your parents found out I'd go to jail and lose my place at university; my entire life would be ruined."

"They're not likely to find out and even if they did nothing would happen; they know about Tommy doing stuff with us and they've always turned a blind eye."

"What! They really know what he's been doing and they don't mind?" I was incredulous; no parents I knew would ever behave in that manner.

"Tommy calls it `teaching the kids life skills' but they know he's been doing sex stuff with us, even if they don't know all the details. As long as we're OK with it and he doesn't force us to do anything we don't want to, then they're pretty cool with things."

"How do you know all this?" I asked, still not convinced that it was true.

"I overheard the three of them talking one night last summer. They were in the living room having a few drinks when I came down to the kitchen to get some water. I heard my name being mentioned and listened outside the door, Tommy was telling Mum and Dad that the others were straight but I was definitely gay and liked older guys. Dad said that he just wanted me to be happy but was worried about my safety and Tommy promised that he'd warn me about the dangers and teach me how to look after myself. Mum said that she'd rather I met a nice guy and did stuff at home, than went out getting picked up by strangers."

"Wow, your parents sound like pretty cool people."

"They are sometimes," Ben responded, "but don't you see, you're a nice guy and not really a stranger; so it's OK for us to do stuff together."

The boy's logic was impeccable, assuming that his parents had really said and meant what Ben supposedly heard but one part of my anatomy was definitely ready to believe every word of it and the lad's hand had already found its way back on to my still hard cock. As he slowly jacked it, my resistance finally crumbled and I succumbed to the seductive charms of a cute, smooth, pre-pubescent boy.

My previous sexual experience with young boys was limited to experimental teenage fumbling, since when I'd only ever had straight sex and that had mostly been vanilla. Being a little unsure as to how best to proceed, I let my right hand drop onto Ben's bum and gave a little squeeze, then paused to see how he'd react; the boy grinned, threw his arms around my neck and hugged me. Taking this as permission to continue, I slipped both hands inside his pyjama bottoms and caressed his cheeks before running one of my fingers up and down his crack and across his hole; the resulting moans and tightening of the hold he had around my neck removed any remaining doubts and convinced me that the boy really did want this to happen.

I pulled my hands out, placed them on his hips and paused; he sat back with his hands resting on my shoulders and gave me a slightly puzzled look. I leaned forward and let my lips graze his briefly, before kissing him again, a little more firmly. I broke the kiss and moved away and this time it was Ben who pressed forward and initiated oral contact; our lips parted and my tongue prodded hesitantly into his mouth, withdrew and he followed suit causing a tongue battle to ensue. When we parted again he grinned and said, "That was cool, I've never kissed like that before."

Now I switched to his neck, kissing gently around until I came to his left ear and nibbled on its lobe; meanwhile my hands were busy undoing the buttons on the front of his pyjama top and then removing it. I began to move down, planting soft kisses on his shoulders and chest and, as I did so, he raised himself to give me better access and soon I was licking and sucking first one and then the other of his small, hard nipples, eliciting another moan of pleasure. I wrapped my arms around him again, lifted him and then laid him on his back in the middle of the bed, where he automatically spread his legs and raised his arms above his head, taking up a naturally submissive posture and making it obvious that his body was mine to do with as I pleased.

I returned to his nipples, aware now of the sweet aroma from the pheromones being produced by the aroused boy and surprised by the effect that it had on me; my cock was harder than I could remember and already leaking more pre-cum than usual. I followed my nose and was soon kissing and licking each of his armpits in turn, which produced a combination of groans and giggles from Ben as he writhed in pleasure. Now I headed south again, leaving a trail of kisses behind as I went, until I came to the elasticated waistband of his pyjama bottoms where I stopped and looked up at him, waiting for permission to take the next, massive step and uncover his private parts.

Our eyes locked and he nodded without hesitation, "Do it," he added, just in case I hadn't got the message. I was the one who paused, taking a deep breath and then pulling down his flimsy garment as he raised his hips to help; four hard, uncut inches of boy cock slapped against his lower torso as it came free. Even when he was erect his foreskin completely covered his glans, unlike my own which partially retracted and allowed the tip of my cockhead to show. His scrotum was up against his body but, when I gently kneaded it his balls were a little larger than I had expected and I remembered what he'd said about producing a small amount of fluid when he came and I realised that he was on the cusp of puberty, although there was still no sign of any pubic hair.

He obviously enjoyed having his balls played with so I leaned over and sucked on each in turn before taking both into my mouth and sucking hard while ensuring that I didn't overstep the mark and turn pleasure into pain. I released his scrotum and licked the length of his shaft, before taking it in my right hand, pulling back his foreskin and licking his glans. Now I took his cock into my mouth, sucking on the first inch or so and using my tongue as well, before taking in all of his four inches. I hadn't done this for several years but, while I might have been out of practice, I discovered that it was one of those, `once learned never forgotten skills' and he was small enough not to stretch me beyond gagging point. I began to mix up the licking, sucking and deep throating and after a few minutes he started to hump into me before giving one final thrust and squealing in ecstasy as he came, rewarding me with a few droplets of watery boy juice, as sweet a nectar as I'd ever tasted. I continued to suck for a few moments more, releasing him before he became oversensitive and ceased to enjoy it.

I sat up and looked down at him as he lay with his eyes close and I gently rubbed his chest as he came back down from his orgasmic high. When he'd recovered, he opened his eyes, grinned and said, "That was great. Now it's my turn to do you."

"You don't have to do that, you know," I replied, more out of politeness than anything else because I wanted him to do it more than I would've believed possible before that moment. I was also fully aware that this had all started when I woke up to find him sucking me, so I didn't really expect him to change his mind and decide against it.

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed, "I want to do it, I love sucking cock."

I sat at the end of the bed with my back against the headboard while Ben scooted around to my right side where he knelt down, took my aching six and a half inches into his mouth and gave me the best blowjob I'd ever had. My friends and I hadn't done it for long enough to become expert and none of my girlfriends had been that great either but Tommy had obviously taught his nephew well because the boy's technique was perfect and after only a few minutes I was warning him that I was about to cum. He never wavered, continuing to bob up and down until I could hold back no longer, grasped his head with one hand and held him in place while I unloaded several ropes of thick cum into his mouth. He kept sucking and swallowing until I had finished, then sat up and grinned, showing me that he'd retained some semen in his mouth, a little of which dribbled from the corner of his lips. I leaned forward and licked this from his chin and then we kissed and shared what remained; a saltier, tangier flavour than the sweet nectar that Ben had produced.

I got up and switched off the main light, leaving just the bedside one illuminated and we got under his duvet and spooned up together with the boy wrapped in my arms. "Can we fuck now?" he asked.

"Not tonight, Ben," I replied.

"Why not?"

"What we've just done was a huge step for me; I've become a child molester in the eyes of the law. I want to see how I feel about it in the cold light of day before I go any further. If I'm repelled by it, I can always console myself with the fact that you've already done the same things with your Uncle Tommy but taking your virginity is an even bigger step and I have to be certain that I'm comfortable with the idea before I agree to do that."

"OK, I think I understand. I've been waiting for months for Tommy to come back, I'm sure I can wait another day."

I switched off the bedside light and drifted off to sleep, still holding the special little boy with whom I was in severe danger of falling in love.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

 

I

don't know how much we moved during the night but, when I woke up in the morning, I was lying on my back with Ben's head on my shoulder and his left arm and leg across my body. My own left arm was under him and I found that it had gone numb so I eased myself out from underneath and rubbed the arm vigorously to get the blood flowing again. I sat on the bed, looked down at the sleeping angel and tried to think dispassionately about what had occurred the previous night. I had mixed emotions; on one hand the boy had given me an amazing blowjob and I had thoroughly enjoyed pleasuring him but looking at him now reinforced the fact that he was just a child and the idea of fucking him appalled me. I showered, changed and went down to the kitchen to get some breakfast where I had a friendly if inconsequential chat with Jane before Tommy appeared and I went the empty library to have some time on my own to think things over.

I had been there about half an hour and still hadn't come to any conclusions whet there was a knock at the door and Tommy came in. "Hi Chris," he said, "I saw how confused you looked in the kitchen and when I realised that you were in here alone I guessed what was troubling you; you've done some stuff with Ben, haven't you?"

I was about to deny it when I realised that was pointless; he already knew and, since he'd done the same things with the boy, at least he was someone I could talk to about it. "Yes," I replied, feeling my cheeks burning as I did so.

"It's not something to get embarrassed about," he reassured me, "not with me at any rate. If you've done what I think you have then I can assure you that I've been there, done that and got the T-shirt."

"Yes, I know," I responded with a grin, "Ben told me about you."

"Oh he did, did he? He's not supposed to tell other people about it."

"It's not really his fault, I guessed that you were the one who taught him to be such a good cocksucker," I replied and told him what had happened.

"Well, I suppose there's a compliment in there somewhere," he said, laughing, "but now you're obviously worried about what you've done and the possible consequences, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's exactly how I feel."

"Listen, when I was eleven and my sister was fourteen, she had a nineteen year old boyfriend; I seduced him and he popped both of our cherries. She found out about it and we haven't kept any secrets from one another since then; for your information, the guy was Tim, so he knows all about adults having sex with willing kids. All children become curious about sex as they approach puberty and Jane's three are no exception. I've allowed each of them to use me to find out about sex and to discover what they like and dislike. Mike was a little curious about the male body but was clearly straight; when he was fifteen I brought an eighteen year old girl home, we had a threesome and we were able to teach him about the female body. Monica is also straight, we've been doing stuff since she was twelve and I fucked her for the first time last year when she was fourteen; at her request I hasten to add.

"I've known that Ben was going to be gay, or maybe bi, for years; probably before he knew himself, because I recognised the signs when he was merely confused. He's more precocious than the other two; little gay boys tend to be, especially the ones who like men rather than other boys. I allowed him to do stuff last summer when he was still eleven but I refused to fuck him then; my cock is over eight inches and it's pretty thick so I knew I would probably hurt him and that's the last thing I want to do. I told him I'd do it when he could shoot, thinking it would be another year or two but the little sod seems to be an earlier developer than Mike was and the first thing he said when I turned up three days ago was that he was having wet orgasms now."

"Yeah he is," I told him, "and very sweet it is too," I added, with a grin.

Tommy laughed. "Now I suppose he wants you to fuck him and you're worried about it?"

"That's it in a nutshell," I replied, relieved that I was able to talk about my fears with someone who understood.

"What size are you?" he asked, taking me by surprise more than a little.

"Err . . . about six and a half inches," I responded, blushing again.

"How about girth?" he continued, obviously more comfortable than I was when it came to discussing sexual matters in such a forthright manner.

"Well, my fingers and thumb meet when I hold it, so I guess I'm not all that thick."

"Maybe not but it means you're perfect for a boy like Ben. He's determined to get fucked and I think it would be much better for him if you did it rather than me. Don't you agree?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds reasonable," I said, "but what will his parents say if they find out?"

"What do you mean `if'? Of course they'll find out, Ben's certain to tell me and I've already told you that Jane and I don't keep secrets."

"Shit; that means they're going to find out about last night as well."

"Sure they will but don't worry about it. They like you, they were saying yesterday what a pleasant young man you are; they'll be delighted that you're making Ben happy and even more so if it's you who pops his cherry."

I was finding all this extremely difficult to take in. I had no idea that Mike's family was so unconventional in its attitude to sexual matters in general; and children's sexuality in particular. I also realised that Mike and Monica would soon know about Ben and me as well and I thought back to my arrival; she had been adamant that Ben wouldn't want me to sleep in his room, probably because she'd known about him and Tommy. Mike, on the other hand, had been certain that his younger brother would say yes and I now suspected that his reaction when the boy did, suggested that he thought things might happen between us; what did that say about my friend's opinion of me?

"You've given me loads of food for thought," I told him. "I need a bit of time to think things over now."

"Good idea," Tommy replied, "I know this has come as a shock and can't be easy for you. Try and put aside everything that you've learned about the rights and wrongs of man-boy sex; think about what we've discussed and what's best for Ben, he's the one who really matters in all this." With that he stood up and left me alone with my thoughts.

I lost track of time and was surprised when Tim stuck his head around the door and said it was time to go to the pub. His parents had gone to church where they were meeting with Jane's parents and then going back to their cottage for lunch. The rest of us were going to eat in the pub, thus sparing Jane from having to prepare Sunday and Christmas lunches on two consecutive days.

The table for nine had been pre-booked and, when we first sat down, I found myself between Mike and Brian but Ben had other ideas and soon shifted his brother, plonked himself down next to me, moving his chair as close as could and pressing his right thigh against my left. Brian to my right and Imelda, further down on the same side of the table, seemed to be unaware of the boy's actions but as I looked around I could see from their smiles that all of the family were fully cognisant of the situation and, from Mike's broad grin, that he was also aware of the reason for it. I glared at him but it soon became obvious that while they all seemed to know about me and the boy, none of them cared; they just carried on as if it was an everyday occurrence for them to sit down to lunch with a twelve year old boy and his twenty one year old male lover. Despite the weird situation, what followed was a perfectly normal Sunday pub lunch and gradually I relaxed, joined in the conversation and began to enjoy myself; a couple of large glasses of red wine with my roast lamb probably helping somewhat.

I asked Brian how things had gone with Liz, "They didn't," he replied, pulling a face. "She's into relationships and doesn't do sex on a first date; not my type at all. Thank god Mike stayed at Jo's last night and I was able to have a good wank, how do you manage with the boy being in the room with you?"

"I have to be very careful," I responded, somehow keeping a straight face as I gave what was actually a perfectly honest answer.

At the end of the meal Brian and I offered to pay since we were being put up at Jane and Tim's expense. They demurred but Tommy said that he thought it was an excellent idea and that he'd chip in as well, so we split the bill three ways.

We returned home and spent the rest of the afternoon helping Tim put up the tree and the other decorations before having a fairly light evening meal, following which I was introduced to another Rogers' family tradition, the Christmas Eve quiz. Tim had organized it and was quizmaster, the rest of us being divided into teams of two based on who we were sharing a bedroom with, Jane and Monica also teaming up. As it happened they won, Jane's excellent all round general knowledge being boosted by Monica's knowledge of modern pop culture; a total lack of which saw her grandparents trail in last, although they didn't seem in the least bit put out by that. Mainly through my efforts, Ben and I managed to come second and, when Tim announced the result, I was rewarded with a big hug from my team mate, which brought a few more smiles from the family and a somewhat puzzled look from Brian. I shrugged in reply, as if to say `I don't understand it either' and he gave me a rueful smile and shook his head.

It was obvious that Tommy had been right, the family weren't in the least bit bothered about what Ben and I might get up to, assuming that the boy was willing and wasn't hurt. Brian could turn out to be a problem though; if he sussed out what was happening I had no idea how he would react. I suspected that I was going to have to discuss the situation with Mike, something that I'd been too embarrassed to do so far.

Ben excused himself and went up to his room around ten and an hour or so later there seemed to be a general consensus amongst the rest of us that it was bedtime and we all headed upstairs to our respective rooms. The boy was sitting up on his bed, dressed only in a pair of white cotton briefs, when I entered and as soon the door closed he looked at me expectantly, it was decision time. I locked the door, sat down on the couch, patted the spot next to me and he joined me as requested.

"Ben, are you absolutely certain that you want me to fuck you?" I asked.

"Of course I am," he replied.

"You can only lose your virginity once; it should be a special occasion."

"I know that."

"What I mean is, you can't change your mind and get it back. If you decide later that it was the wrong decision, you could regret it for the rest of your life."

"I won't, I was looking forward to doing it with Tommy but I think it will be even better with you. You're much more handsome and you're not my uncle, so it's not incense."

"You mean incest," I replied with a laugh.

"You know what I mean," he replied, punching me on the arm.

"Yeah I know what you mean but there are two problems that I can see. One, I've never fucked another guy, let alone a young boy, so I'm not an expert like Tommy; I can't guarantee that I can give you the wonderful experience that you're anticipating. Two, we'll have to be very careful to make sure that Brian doesn't find out; your family has a very unusual attitude to sex and an outsider like Brian might find it very difficult to accept the idea of the two of us doing it together. Please try to act casual tomorrow, don't make it obvious that you've just been fucked for the first time."

"Don't worry, I'll be Mr Cool; even my family won't be sure whether or not we did it. I'm glad you've never done it with another guy; I know you're not a virgin like me but it's almost like your first time too and I think that's better than having an expert who's fucked lots of other boys."

I slipped my left arm around his shoulders, pulled him close and kissed the top of his head; he smelled of shampoo. "Did you shower when you came up?" I enquired.

"Yeah and I had an enema too," he replied, hanging his head a little self-consciously. "I wanted to be nice and clean everywhere for you." It occurred to me that, thanks to his uncle, this twelve year old virgin knew more about gay sex than I did; as the adult I would be expected to take the lead but I'd probably be relying on Ben to guide me along the way.

I tilted his head up and kissed him on the lips, gently at first and then with more passion; our mouths opened and our tongues went to work. At the same time I ran my right hand over his chest and tweaked his tiny nipples before moving lower and caressing his smooth, slender thighs which he soon spread apart to give me better access to the parts he really wanted me to touch. I broke the kiss and eased him onto his back with his head resting on a cushion which I propped against one arm of the couch; he clasped his hands behind his head and spread his legs, once again taking up a very submissive posture which I now realised was the natural state for a boy when he was having sex with a man.

I repeated much of what I'd done the previous night, kissing his face, neck and ears before moving on to his nipples and pits. This time, when I reached the waistband of his briefs, I bypassed his inviting bulge and worked my way down his right leg before giving his foot and toes a good tongue bath; his frustration at the lack of attention to his dick was replaced by appreciative moans as he experienced a new sensation and discovered that pleasure could be had from parts of his body that he hadn't previously considered to be erotic. I moved on to his other foot and then worked back up that leg until my main target was right in front of my face. I nuzzled him through the fabric of his briefs, eliciting a few moans followed by a frustrated, "Take them off."

I looked up and grinned, "What do you say?"

"Please take them off," he whined plaintively and I rewarded his politeness by acquiescing to his request.

Now I gave his genitals my full attention; licking, sucking and deep throating until he began to hump into my mouth which, I recalled from the night before, was a prelude to his climax so I stopped and stood up. He looked at me incredulously, "Why did you stop?" he asked. I just smiled and began to strip my own clothes off; slowly and sensuously, giving the horny boy a good show. When I was completely naked I moved Ben so that he was sitting on the couch with his bum near the edge, knelt down in front and returned to fellating him. Once again I stopped prior to his orgasm but this time I pushed his legs back, exposing his backside and licked the length of his crack and perineum, bringing a gasp as my tongue passed over his anus.

This was the part I was least confident about; I had heard about rimming but had never actually experienced it, either giving or receiving, so I was a little unsure of myself. I examined the boy's hole and was relieved to see that it was clean; he'd had an enema and a shower and had obviously taken the time to wash himself properly there. Taking a deep breath, I kissed his anus and then licked around it, stimulating the sensitive nerve endings and causing Ben to squirm and moan with pleasure. I poked my tongue tentatively at his hole but discovered that, no matter how willing a virgin boy might be, his body's natural reaction is to stop any foreign article from entering via that particular orifice and realised that I'd have to work at it if I was going to gain admittance. I continued to lick, suck and slobber over his anus, getting it as wet and slippery as I could, until I finally won the battle and my tongue pushed through his defences and into his love tunnel. I found that it was hard work and I was aching a bit by this time, so I only tongue fucked him for a few minutes before pulling out, picking him up and heading for the bed, where the real action would take place.

I placed him face down with a pillow lengthways below him, which presented his arse to me perfectly. One spit slicked finger slipped into him easily, replacing the tongue which had preceded it a few moments earlier but, when I tried two, there was too much resistance and I realised that I'd need some sort of lubricant. I panicked for a moment, wondering how I'd forgotten such an essential item but, when I looked over to the bedside table, there was a tube of KY lying there; clearly Ben, or perhaps Tommy, had given the planning more thought than I had. The single digit went back inside, lubricated with more than spit this time and the KY ensured that my second attempt with two fingers was more successful than the first had been. I considered trying a third digit but decided against it; my slim cock wasn't much thicker than three fingers and was a more rounded shape, so I reckoned I'd cause Ben less discomfort by moving directly to fucking than trying to stretch him anymore.

I turned the boy onto his back; I wanted to see his face as I penetrated him to make sure he wasn't in too much pain and found that turning the pillow ninety degrees and placing it under his lower back raised his arse to a comfortable level for both of us. I lubed up my cock, held the glans against his anus, pressed forward and watched as my slippery appendage slid away from its intended target. Two more attempts provided the same result causing more than a little frustration on both our parts.

"You need to relax more," I told Ben, thus blaming a twelve year old boy for my own lack of experience and technique.

"I am relaxed," he retorted, "You can't be doing it right." Touché.

I realised that I was pointing at a slight angle so I repositioned myself and tried again; this time I made some small headway but still didn't gain access.

"Relax baby," I said.

"Push harder," he gasped.

I think we each responded a little to the other's instruction, the result being that my cockhead slipped past his sphincter and into his rectum, the muscle clamped down on my shaft and I stopped to allow him to recover a little before I continued. He'd kept his eyes closed during all this and when he opened them I saw tears, "Are you OK?" I asked, "I'll stop if it's hurting too much."

"No!" he reacted fiercely. "Tommy said it would hurt to start with, I'll be fine in a minute."

We sat like that for several minutes, my right hand holding my cock in place in case his body ejected it, while I caressed his chest with my left and encouraged him with soppy endearments. Eventually he gave a strained smile and said, "I'm OK now, try putting more in."

I pushed forward once more and gained another inch before he winced and I stopped again. This time I only had to pause for about thirty seconds before continuing and, after a few more minutes of push and pause, all that I was going to get inside him was ensconced his hot, tight tunnel. I leaned forward, taking my weight on my elbows and kissed him tenderly before sitting up and pulling back slowly until only my glans remained inside. Then I pushed back in equally slowly repeating the action several times, noticing that the resistance seemed to lessen each time and that Ben appeared to be in less pain and actually starting to enjoy the experience.

"Are you OK now?" I asked.

"Yeah, it still hurts but it feels really good too," he replied, with a weak smile. "There's one bit that gives me tingles each time you go in or out, I think that's my prostate." A little experimentation allowed me to discover where his sensitive gland was situated and I began to use shorter, faster strokes that ensured that my glans rubbed over it every time. "Oh fuck, yeah. That's amazing, keep doing it like that." The boy's enjoyment was unmistakable and music to my ears; I could tell that he was still experiencing a little pain but at least pleasure now seemed to have replaced it as the dominant factor. The downside to this change of technique was that I felt my own climax approaching, so I switched back to longer, slower strokes until the urge to cum had waned and then returned to the quicker ones again.

Throughout all of this, Ben's boy cock had remained flaccid but now I noticed that it was erect again and he was slowly wanking himself with his eyes closed as I fucked him. "Are you getting close baby?" I asked.

"Uh huh."

Coincidently it was just about time to speed up again and, when I did so, I saw Ben's hand keep time with my increased tempo. Once again I felt my orgasm approaching but this time I didn't slow down but kept going and in fact began to pound him even harder and faster while his hand was now a blur as he jerked himself off. I couldn't hold off any longer; my climax hit and I gave one final thrust and unloaded inside him before slumping forward onto my forearms and burying my face in his neck. When I recovered and sat up, Ben's eyes were closed tightly and he wore a contented smile; he'd stopped wanking but a couple of wet spots on his belly confirmed that he'd cum as well.

I leaned over again and kissed him softly on the lips; he wrapped his arms around my neck, opened his eyes and grinned, "That was so fucking amazing," he said. "I was worried that it would hurt too much the first time for me to really enjoy it but it didn't; the pain never went away completely but the good feelings were so strong that I didn't care about it. How about you, did you enjoy it too?"

"Yes baby, you felt incredible; much tighter than any pussy. I think that was the best orgasm I've ever had."

At that moment his arse ejected my softening cock and I went down to have a look at the damage. His hole was closing up even as I watched, although it was no longer the tight pucker it had been before. It was red and puffy but there didn't seem to be much in the way of blood and no sign that he was still bleeding. My biggest fear had been that he'd need medical treatment but thankfully he appeared to be OK, though I was sure that he'd be tender in the morning.

There was a rumbling sound from somewhere inside the boy and he scrambled up with an exclamation of, "Oh shit," and scurried into the bathroom. Eventually the sound of the toilet flushing was followed by extensive use of the air freshener and I had to force myself not to laugh when he returned to bed wrinkling his nose in disgust.

We got under the duvet and I wrapped him in my arms and asked, "Are you sure you're OK baby, not too sore?"

"I'm a little sore but it's not too bad. Why do you keep calling me baby?"

"Sorry, it's just an endearment. I'll stop if you don't like it."

"I don't mind it as long as we're alone. I wouldn't want you to call me it in front of other people, though."

"Don't worry, I won't. I could get into trouble if the wrong person heard me say that to you."

He giggled and then asked, "Does it mean you love me?" Alarm bells began ringing inside my head, sex with a twelve year old boy was bad enough but love was something else again; at the same time I didn't want to hurt Ben's feelings if he regarded his current emotions as being love.

"It means that I care about you Ben," I replied. "I think it would be dangerous for us to fall in love with one another, it would be very difficult for us to have a long term relationship."

"Why?"

"I like women and I now realise that I like boys too but I'm not really gay, I've got no interest in men. Remember what I said last night, when you're older I won't find you attractive anymore, although I'll always care about you."

There was silence while he thought about what I'd just said.

"I understand that but we can still do stuff for a while though, can't we?"

"As long as you want to do stuff with me and your parents are willing to let us see one another, then I'll be happy to keep having sex with you until you reach the point where you stop being attractive to me."

"Cool. I'll shave all my body hair off when I start growing it, so that I keep looking young for you."

I laughed, "Just have the body type that suits you and don't worry about what others think. You'll find someone who loves you for who and what you are."

Ben turned his head and we kissed one last time before settling down to sleep.

 

END OF PART ONE

 

© Hugh Cox 2017

 

My previous Nifty stories can be found in the authors list under Hugh Cox.