From: wil#m325@news.delphi.com (WILLIAM325@DELPHI.COM)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.intergen
Subject: Boy-Lover/Man Friend
Date: 21 Jul 1994 02:30:05 -0000
Summary: Reprint of NAMBLA Bulletin Letter

Boy lover, man friend

Letter published in the NAMBLA Bulletin, May 1994.

Dear Bulletin,

My first long-term relationship with a boy began in the mid-70s.  His name
was Mark, and we met when he was in the fifth grade. I was a leader on a
camping trip which he went on. Immediately upon meeting, there was a
"connection." I knew that there was something special. Although nothing
happened during the trip, afterwards we stayed in touch, and I became a
regular at his house.

At first I'd get invited to dinner, and then there were family outings.
After a while, I became Mark's baby-sitter. Our relationship developed so
that I became an older-brother figure, and then confidant, and finally
bed-mate. Mark had an exceptional enjoyment for life. He was always on the
go, and was always getting into mischief. There was more than one time
when I'd go over to his house and find him "in the dog house" about
something.

His house had a beautiful in-ground swimming pool which the entire family
enjoyed. Skinny dipping was the norm in this household, although not
everyone would go this way when I was around. The first time I saw Mark
naked was when he was getting ready to go swimming. Early one summer
evening when I was baby-sitting, Mark came out of his bedroom dressed in
only his underpants. I found out later that Mark would shuck his clothing
quite often. He'd come home from school, strip down to his underpants, and
spend the rest of the day dressed that way. He seemed more comfortable
without clothes on.

Mark asked if he could take a dip in the pool. I saw no problem and
agreed. With that, he simply dropped his drawers and walked outside naked.
At first, I was taken aback, really surprised at his lack of modesty. I
guess, however, boys of ten or 11 aren't really concerned about nudity,
certainly when their families are tolerant.  As Mark trotted off to the
pool, I watched probably the most beautiful little body I have ever seen.
His proportions were perfect.  His backside was firm, full, and round, and
the bobbing dick I saw as he walked was good size for his age. He was
definitely still a little boy, but he was nicely developed, not with just
some tiny thing hanging between his legs. His balls were clearly defined,
as well. He was still a few years from puberty.

Mark was an absolute porpoise in the water. You'd think he was born there!
He dove, jumped, and crawled along the bottom. He appeared totally at ease
in this environment.

After perhaps 15 or 20 minutes, Mark surfaced from one of his many dives
and asked me to get him a towel. No problem! I grabbed one from the
bathroom and returned to the pool. Since he was still swimming, I sat on
one of the lawn chairs and watched him. Oh, to be young again!

Mark finally came out of the water. He walked over to where I was sitting,
stood in front of me, and announced, "Okay, dry me!" With that he struck a
spread-eagle pose, arms stretched above his head, legs spread widely
apart. What a sight! This gorgeous figure of youth was asking me to touch
him! Needless to say, I rose to the occasion and did as I was told. First,
I rubbed his head like I was buffing a bowling ball. He liked that because
his hair came out looking like it had just been electrocuted. I worked my
way slowly down his body. First the left arm and each finger, and then the
right arm and fingers. Next came the ears, and then his nose, mouth, and
chin. I wanted to dry him slowly and sensually. After finishing drying his
chest, I said, "Now turn around," and I dried the back of his neck, his
back, and then down to his bum--slowly between and around it, one cheek at
a time. When enough attention had been spent there, I said, "Turn around,"
and moved on to his belly, belly button, and then down to his penis.
Gently I lifted his penis to dry his balls, and then carefully rubbed his
shaft. Mark didn't even flinch; he seemed to enjoy the attention. Finally
I moved down one leg. I had to get on my knees, and Mark had to put an arm
on my shoulder to balance while I dried his legs, and each of his
"piggies." I finished by wrapping Mark up in the towel and giving him a
quick hug. He responded by hugging back. With that, the little tornado was
off to his bedroom, and I was left glowing.

Mark called from his room a while after that to say good-night. He was
actually going to bed without a fight! I went in to make sure everything
was okay, and Mark called me over. "C'mere," he said, with outstretched
arms. Expecting another hug, I went over to him.  He did hug me, but he
then grabbed my face, pulled it close, and kissed me. I said good-night,
shut off the light, and left his room. I spent the rest of the evening
trying to make sense of what had happened. Was this just a very
affectionate boy, or was he a boy who truly enjoyed a man's company? Was
he just outgoing, or was he looking for something more?

It seemed like each time I baby-sat, there would be things added to our
affectionate play. The hugs became extended for longer moments, the kisses
came more often. He'd crawl onto my lap to watch TV, and would actually
grope me while sitting there. He'd ask me to lie down with him while he
fell asleep. Baths were taken every night. He would make requests for me
to not only dry him "like the first time," but to also wash him. Soon came
a specific request to "wash me down there." He would get hard each time.
This erotic semi-sexual foreplay lasted a few months. I was careful not to
go any further than he wanted. He was in control.

Finally, one night he wanted me to lie with him while he fell to sleep. He
was under the covers, and I was on top of them. I enjoyed the closeness a
lot. I told him I wanted a big hug before I'd lie down. He responded by
jumping up and giving a great bear hug, complete with a growl. This hug
was different from the others, because he was erect and pressing himself
against me. I jokingly asked, "What's this?" as I flicked the bulge in his
underpants with my fingers. He said that he got a "boner" a lot when he
thought about my washing him, drying him, or sometimes just being close to
me.

I could resist no longer. The boy seemed to want more than just hugs from
a big brother. I laid him on his back, and gently pulled down his
underpants. He lifted his bum as I did this, and then picked up his feet,
and pointed his toes so I could get his shorts all the way off. What a
beauty! Eleven years old, naked, hard, willing, and obviously enjoying
every moment. He put his hands behind his head, and gave me a big smile,
which almost melted me. I guessed it was okay to go further.

I kissed his chest, and then slowly moved my mouth downward.  What smooth
skin, and that fresh, clean boy-smell! I kissed his stomach as I moved
down further. I swear he lifted his bum to meet my mouth as I made my way
towards his dick. I tickled his dick with my tongue, and then took him
fully into my mouth. Of course, there was no problem with fitting all of
him into my mouth. As I sucked, he moved his hips up and down, making me
wonder if someone had done it to him before. When he was reaching the
point of climax, he sucked in his breath and yanked himself out of my
mouth. I asked him why he had stopped me, and he answered that it felt
like he was "gonna pee." I explained that he wouldn't really pee, but that
something different and better would happen.  "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Absolutely," was my immediate reply.  After contemplating this for a
moment, he said "Okay," and relaxed. I resumed my slow and gentle
blow-job, savoring the softness of his skin, the taste of his boy penis,
and his enjoyment of the experience.

After only a few more minutes of sucking him, I felt him grow super-hard
and firm, and I knew he was over the threshold. He sucked in his breath
and wiggled around, and I felt the muscles of his dick begin to contract
and release--two, three, four times. He was experiencing his first orgasm.
His only verbal response was a soft gasp. After his climax subsided, I
gently released his dick from my mouth, and kissed its little head. I took
a position lying next to him, and gently rubbed my hand from his neck to
his groin. I wanted to show him that love wasn't just orgasm, but that it
was affection, togetherness, and warmth. I continue to stroke and massage
him this way while his penis shrank to its normal, little- boy size. I
asked if he liked what I did. He answered that it was the best feeling he
had ever had. He told me that he was glad that I was the one to give it to
him. He said that he felt all "warm, fuzzy, and sleepy" (his words), so I
covered him up, kissed him good-night, and left the room.

From that night on, every time I came to watch him, and almost every time
we were together, he wanted "that feeling." On the floor, in the car, in a
train sleeping car, swimming under water, at a hostel, everywhere! He'd
give me a poke with his elbow, and when I would look at him, he'd raise
his eyebrows at me. This was his "sex sign," as he put it. I have to admit
that risks were definitely taken, but it sure was fun! Mark was really
calling the shots.

As my relationship with Mark and his family grew, he was allowed to go on
trips with me, skiing or camping. He was allowed to spend nights at my
house. Whenever we were sleeping somewhere, we slept together if it were
possible. There was never a question about that. When bed time came, or
even earlier sometimes, I would hear, "Let's get naked!" We would hug and
nuzzle. He was like a little puppy. God, he was warm! Sometimes I'd awaken
to find him playing with me, and often we'd just spend the whole morning
in bed.

During Mark's thirteenth year, a momentous occasion took place.  We
discovered his first pubic hair. He showed it off with great pride. I said
that I'd now have to call him "Sprout," which I still do! I told him that
soon he'd be able to get cum from his cock just like I could. He wanted
that real bad, "cause that would mean I was a man." We'd joke about that,
about his wanting to be a man.  He'd always want to wrestle to prove
himself. Sometimes I'd let him win. Other times I'd have to strip him to
prove that I won, and naturally that led to "the feeling."

Mark's thirteenth year also brought about a sad occasion. He and his
family moved a few towns away. Our get-togethers became limited. He was
growing, and getting involved with sports and school activities. A couple
of months after Mark moved, he came over to visit. He had grown what
seemed like feet taller, but was really only an inch or two. He was
beginning to fill out as well. At bedtime, when he came out of the shower,
I could see that it wasn't just in height that he had grown. Mark had a
"little forest" down there (his words again). His little-boy thing was now
much bigger.  It hung low and to the side. I think he was proud of it,
because he walked all over the house for no apparent reason other than to
be out and about, and to show off his naked body.

I asked if he had jerked off yet. He said no. He wanted to wait to do it
together. He admitted, however, that he had had a wet dream, so he guessed
that he was ready. Both of us were eager to find out for sure.

Afterwards he said it was the best orgasm he had ever had. He could feel
it (the cum) going out. He had a good load. Shortly after cumming for the
first time, Mark exclaimed "Let's do it again.  Now!" I obliged, and
sucked him off again. It took a little longer the second time. Mark wanted
to do me, so we could compare loads. He was always trying to beat me at
something! He did an incredible job. Can you imagine the energy of a
13-year-old?

Eventually my little Sprout and I grew apart, not from dislike of sex or
each other. He was living out of town, and we were both busy.  He fumbled
through a rocky high school career, but he did graduate.

Mark is now (are you sitting down?) 28 years old. We still keep in touch,
and he often thanks me for our relationship. He says that it taught him a
whole lot about "people and things." I will always cherish this boy, my
first.

To his credit, Mark is "out," and is very happy and satisfied with his
life, very confident. He even came to visit me during my stay at one of
our state's finest facilities. Yes, I'm among the many who have been
incarcerated for doing what comes naturally, but that's a different story.

I'll sign off with the mention that Mark knows I'm writing to you.  He
approves. He even suggested that I send a picture or two, which I have
enclosed. If you wish to use them along with this letter, you may. But if
not, the readers will just have to use their imaginations.

Sign me,
F.T.N.