Date: Sat, 2 Jul 2011 15:01:13 -0700 (PDT) From: Joe Hunter Subject: The Commercial Traveler #5 All the usual disclaimers apply: +This story is a work of fiction. If you think it is real, you have a very active imagination. +Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do so. +Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are represented. Do not read further if this offends you. +Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story. If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at: hunterjoe45@yahoo.com A tip of the hat to 'R M' whose Text-A-Boy stories were my inspiration for this series. Thank's 'R M'! (Text-A-Boy Service - part 1 is in the archive, 18 Nov 2008, and the whole series is a fun read!) I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Support Nifty! Joe ____________________________ THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELER #5 ( Tommy/Scott ) (copyright 2011, Joe Hunter) Call me Jack. Like I explained in the first few stories - I'm 37, a boy lover and I fly around a lot on business. A spare cell phone keeps me in contact with a string of young companions and most of the time when I go anywhere, I'm already hooked up... ---------------- | Destination: | | Chattanooga | ---------------- Small planes into small airports. I was thinking this as my commuter flight made its approach to Chattanooga. Outside my window stretched the long swell of Missionary Ridge, once the site of a legendary Union victory in the Civil War, but now merely an upscale suburb, peaceful winding streets of middle-class homes. Off the wing on the other side the rocky height of Lookout Mountain, scene of another famous battle, still retained its wild appearance, preserved as a park. Staring out my window at Missionary Ridge I tried to pick out Tommy's house, but even though I knew the general neighborhood and had a fair idea of where to look there were too many trees and far too many modern developments for me to pick out details. Upon landing I picked up the panel van I had reserved and made my way out onto the highway. It was a beautiful spring afternoon and there was plenty of traffic, but I avoided the worst of it and drove through tangled suburban sprawl to a park on the east side. There, in a complex of five playing fields, several games were in progress, soccer on one side of the road and lacrosse on the other. Trying to look like a casual observer, I parked and walked over to the lacrosse game, taking position away from the small group of spectating parents. Lacrosse was not a sport I ever played so my knowledge was limited to what I had learned from Tommy and Scott. The fine points were lost on me, but after watching for a few minutes I had things sorted out. The players on the field were young boys, one side in blue shirts, the other in red, and from the way their coaches behaved I gathered that the red team was ahead. In addition to their shirts, every boy wore white shorts, knee socks and Nikes. All carried lacrosse sticks and were equipped with a helmet and facemask. The boys ran back and forth in the afternoon sunshine while I watched, enjoying the sight of firm butt's and flashing young thighs. The facemasks made it difficult to see features, but after some searching I spotted Tommy's skinny form. He was on the red team, playing mainly back on defense. It took a bit longer to find Scott but at last I located him, standing to one side behind the other substitutes on the sideline, blond hair gleaming in the sun. Although the same age as the other players (Scott was 11 going on 12 and Tommy had just turned 13) neither boy was very big, or particularly athletic. As a substitute Scott was sent in for only a few minutes a game and Tommy did not get much more, but Tommy had wanted to play and Scott participated because Tommy did. I watched Tommy cover his position, the action swirling around him, his skinny body all knees and elbows as he moved with the gawky awkwardness a lot of boys exhibit when they begin to grow fast. He had no natural grace and only modest talent but I still liked seeing him play. He was a game kid, always ready to try his best and brave enough to risk physical contact. Spectacular plays were beyond him, but I did get to see him defend against a scoring attempt and a bit later, when the ball (or whatever they call the thing in lacrosse) came his way he went up field with it, flying along in his gawky way, avoiding defenders and then making a decent pass to one of his forwards who drove in for a score. The red team was well ahead so the score was no big deal, but I could tell by the way he moved that Tommy was happy. He had spotted me, so on the way back to his position he ran close to the side where I was standing, giving me a furtive glance. I made a slight nod in return to show I had seen, but other than that we exchanged no sign of recognition. At the end of the game both sides exchanged palm slaps and then the red team gathered up their equipment, heading for the cars in the parking lot, probably off to celebrate somewhere. It was what I would have done it had been my team. Tommy and Scott went, too, a little apart from the others, and as a stream of cars left the parking lot I went back to the van. It was all about fitting in, I thought. That was what Tommy wanted. He and Scott both lived on the same street in an upscale neighborhood where doctors, lawyers, executives and professional couples had their homes. Tommy rarely talked about his family, but over time I had learned that his father owned a string of cocktail lounges. There were two older brothers, one still in high school, both in trouble with the law. Their house at the end of the street was the same size and style as others in the neighborhood, but when I had driven by to check it out the lawn was shaggy, the flowerbeds unkempt and several dilapidated cars were parked outside on the driveway instead of in the garage. The school Tommy and Scott attended was the kind where kids wearing the latest fashions got dropped off by their parents in expensive cars. I made sure Tommy had whatever clothes he wanted but nothing ever fit well on his lanky body and too often he wore mismatched colors. Lacrosse was the popular sport among boys there, and when Tommy told me wanted to play I gave him the registration money, although I suspected it was just another of his attempts to fit in. From what I'd seen so far I suspected he was never going to make it. Tommy was on the lacrosse team, but not really a part of it, and at a school where academic achievement was the norm, he was falling farther and farther behind. Our Chattanooga client was relocating to bigger quarters, upgrading all his systems in the process, so for the next few days I was working long hours. Late Friday evening the IT department head brought the new network online with my help and we celebrated over a cup of coffee in the employee lounge. "Nothing but the training sessions left," he told me, yawning. I grinned at him. "We'll have fun with that. I have some good PowerPoint shows. See you bright and early on Monday. Have a good weekend." I slept in on Saturday, not rising until eight - late for me. After grabbing a quick breakfast at the McDonald's near my motel I changed into shorts and a T-shirt, put some necessary things into a travel bag that could be converted into a crude backpack and took off in the van. Saturday morning traffic was already building as I drove into the residential neighborhoods atop Missionary Ridge. Of course I knew where Tommy lived, but I was not headed there now. The text message on my phone had read, "bike trail, 10 am." At one end of the Ridge, sloping toward the river, a rough wooded tract of tangled second growth forest, some of it protected land and some undeveloped, was split up by dry eroded gullies and rocky outcroppings. Mountain bikers and a few ATV riders occasionally used the area, but when I reached the dirt parking area my van was the only vehicle. I parked, got out, checked my watch and then sat down on a boulder to wait. Fifteen minutes went by and the only sound came from a car passing on the county road. Then, in the distance, I heard the snarl of an un-mufflered two-stroke engine. I stood up as the sound grew louder and from a dirt track between the trees a go-kart skidded out into the parking lot, a spray of dirt flying up as it slid to a stop in front of me. My two boys were jammed into the single seat, Scott sitting on Tommy's lap, both grinning up at me. "Hey guys," I said, grinning back. I picked Scott up and placed him on his feet next to the kart. "How's she runnin'?" I asked Tommy. "Fast as ever?" "Uh-huh." Tommy looked down shyly as I gave his shoulder a pat. "Did you re-port it?" "Yeah." The boy nodded and I ruffled his light brown hair. "What time you guys have to be home?" They both looked up at me. "Not until supper," Tommy said. "And Scott's stayin' over at my house tonight." "Good." I gave Scot's slender shoulders a quick hug. "You want to go up on Lookout Mountain after?" "With the kart?" Tommy asked eagerly. "Sure." "Yeah!" The two boys grinned at each other and Tommy held out a palm for Scott to slap. While I got my backpack out of the van and locked the vehicle, Scott helped Tommy turn the go-kart around and then wiggled back onto the older boy's lap. "Jack, Scott says he wants to have his own phone now," Tommy said as I joined them. "Oh yeah?" A little thrill tingled through me. I stroked the top of Scott's blond head and he glanced up at me. "You sure?" The slender boy nodded. "He can do it," Tommy assured me. "OK," I said. "We'll see how it goes." Slinging the backpack up onto my shoulders I jogged onto the dirt path heading into the woods and with a high-pitched snarl of two-stroke power Tommy drove past me, one hand on the wheel and his other holding Scott around the waist. Both boys knew where we were going. A half-mile into the woods was a ravine choked by thick brush where the go-kart could be hidden. Above it, up a steep slope amid trees and boulders, there was just enough level ground for the air mattress that I was carrying in the backpack. Tommy had discovered the spot while exploring and had taken me there on one of our first times together. Since then we had used it regularly in good weather, keeping the panel van as a backup for when it rained or was cold. I would have preferred going to my motel, but Tommy was afraid of being recognized. The track through the woods was narrow, and rough enough so the boys could not get too far ahead of me. I jogged along, following the sound of the engine, savoring with anticipation the thought of finally having Scott all the way. "He's my friend, Jack," Tommy had explained when Scott had turned up with him at one of our meetings about six months before. "It's OK. He's cool. He won't say nothin'." Scott had been so beautiful, and the look he had given me so appealing, I could hardly have said no. "Sure, let him come," I told them, and Tommy had passed the younger boy a smug look. "See? I told you so. Jack's OK." Right away I could tell the boys had been intimate with each other. When Tommy stripped for me, Scott had removed his own clothes along with him, revealing a slender body of such stunning beauty it nearly took my breath. While I was getting out the lube, Tommy had pulled Scott close and the two boys had hugged and kissed, their hands busy on each other's stiff boy pricks. As I had applied KY to his opening, Tommy had kept hold of Scott and the two of them continued to kiss and fondle. "You sure he's OK?" I had whispered and Tommy had nodded. "He wanna' see me do it," the older boy had assured me, lying back and pulling up his knees. Scott had watched, holding his friend's hand, stroking him while I entered Tommy and we pumped together. Afterward, Scott had settled between the two of us, squirming in pleasure while he was fondled and caressed, but when I turned him and slid the blunt tip of my spear between his pretty rounded butt cheeks the boy had flinched and clung to Tommy shaking his head. "Scared of it?" I had asked. "Yeah, kinda'" Tommy replied, stroking Scott. After reassuring the boy that we would do nothing he was not comfortable with, I let it go. Since then, Scott had accompanied Tommy whenever he met me and I had learned that both he and Scott lived on the same street. Scott's father had walked out on the family two years before and now Scott's mother worked full time to keep them in the expensive house so Scott and his little sister could remain at the neighborhood school, the same one Tommy attended. In our meetings Scott had learned all the pleasurable things Tommy and I could teach him, stopping short of surrendering himself completely. Now, apparently, the time had come and as I jogged along the trail I experienced a mounting excitement at the thought of what was to follow. I caught up to the boys at the ravine while they were dragging the go-cart into the brush. Striding past, I mounted the slope beyond and minutes later they joined me at our secret place where I was using a little foot pump to blow up the air mattress. Tommy was in the lead, panting a little, and when he pulled off the faded cami T-shirt he was wearing a sheen of sweat made his lanky young body glisten in the warm spring sunshine. Behind him Scott watched as I finished pumping and then both boys helped me adjust the big mat so it lay flat in the shade of some overhanging bushes. "Come on," I said, beckoning and the boys sat down with me on the mat, Tommy to my right and Scott on my left. The two of them leaned against me when I put arms around their shoulders. "I would have hooked us up sooner," I said apologetically, "But they've had me working around the clock the past few days." "It's OK," Tommy said. He began to untie the scuffed Nikes he was wearing and I gave him a quick hug. Both boys had on shorts, Tommy's a baggy pair that went below his knees while Scott's were dirty white tennis shorts, too small for him, clinging to hips and firm butt, leaving knees and lower legs bare. When Tommy began pulling his Nikes off Scott leaned forward to do the same and I slid a palm down his back, stroking the boy's silky smoothness through the old wash-faded Falcons T-shirt he was wearing. "So, what's with school?" I asked. "How's everything goin'?" Tommy shrugged without turning to look at me. "It's OK," he said. "Come on," I coaxed, knowing the signs. "What's up? What's the deal?" There was another shrug and then, not lifting his head the boy stammered, "I like... Like I may gotta' do like this class in the summer..." My arm tightened around his shoulder and I hugged him. "I told you I'd help if you needed it. Why didn't you call me?" Tommy shrugged again and gave me an anxious look. "I figured you'd be like mad... I figured..." He hung his head and I gave his shoulders one more squeeze. "You know better than that. I don't get mad at you. Never be afraid to ask me stuff. Listen. We'll go over your school stuff while I'm here and we'll work out a time when you can call every couple of days so I can help with your assignments, OK? That way you can stay up with everything." The boy lifted his eyes to mine, nodding, but I knew he was only doing it to please me. Tommy had no confidence that anyone could like him or believe in him and I suspected that, no matter how much assurance I gave him, nothing was ever going to change that. "Come on," I teased, squeezing the boy's shoulders and tickling him a little. "Where's that smile? We're gonna' have lots of fun today. Let's see that famous grin." Tommy squirmed, giggled and reached for my left hand, pulling it down into his crotch where the hard jut of an erection was tenting up the front of his shorts. My thumb and forefinger stroked through the thin cloth and Tommy leaned against me, left hand around my waist, his right sliding up my thigh to push into my own groin and explore the hard bulge he found there. I hugged the boy close, kissed him on the mouth and then whispered, "Are you sure Scott wants to go all the way?" "Uh-huh," Tommy nodded. On my other side Scott finished taking off his shoes and was watching us shyly. I take hold of him, pulled him across my lap and tickled, making him squirm and laugh. Tommy crawled around to help and while I kept tickling, Scott pretended to resist as Tommy unfastened his shorts. The old tennis shorts were so tight the fly gaped when the zipper came down and it was immediately apparent Scott had nothing on underneath. There was a flash of bare stomach and then his rigid boy stick popped out, the slick stretched skin of its shaft shiny in the sunlight. Like Tommy, Scott was slight for his age, but he was beginning to develop and his stiff circumcised rod with the same length and thickness as his older friend's, a fact that I suspected was not lost on Tommy. I held the wiggling boy, his rigid little branch straining upward in a slight curve, while Tommy got his shorts off, sliding them down and dragging them free of the kicking legs one by one. Scott had a lovely body; there was no other word for it. Both he and Tommy were slender, but Scott's lines had a slim elegance Tommy's gawkiness lacked. The young boy gleamed in the sunlight, beautifully proportioned, his groin hairless and the glossy surfaces of hip and mounded butt cheeks smooth as polished stone. As both Tommy and I kept tickling he surrendered to us, letting me pull off his shirt, baring all his silky smoothness, a living work of art. The naked boy lay across my knees, gazing upward, his lips parted and his arms stretched back. I bent down to kiss him and next to me Tommy leaned in as well taking Scott's jutting boy pole into his mouth. Nuzzling Scott's ear I whispered, "Help me strip Tommy," and together we grabbed hold of the older boy who gave up without a struggle and let us pull off his loose baggy clothing. My two naked boys played with me on the mattress, hugging and tickling while I slid my palms on their warm smooth silkiness. Despite their apparent differences I found Tommy just as beautiful as Scott, although he appealed in a different way. The boy was slight and small for his age, and like Scott his groin was still hairless, but similarity ended with that. Tommy was all elbows and knees, long legs and skinny arms. He had none of Scott's delicate grace, and yet there was a certain wistfulness to him, a vulnerability that showed in the occasional wide-eyed looks he gave me, and his eagerness to please. Neither pretty, nor even handsome, his features were on the verge of both, the spill of light brown hair across his forehead framing a face one might see on any boy next door - the one you paid to shovel your driveway, wash your car or cut your lawn in the summer. If Scott was the ideal vision of slim boy-model elegance, Tommy was the picture of young adolescence - awkward, gawky, yet beautiful in all the promise of what might be. I slid my palms on both boys, stroking rounded shoulders, taut waists and smooth silken thighs and hips. They tugged at my clothes, unbuttoning and unzipping, stripping me while I kissed and caressed them, every breath I took filling me with the scent of their young bodies. Once I was naked and my clothes had been tossed aside with theirs, Scott straddled my chest, pert little butt in my face as he bent to suck my stiff rod. Tommy hugged against me, offering his mouth for a long deep kiss and then pleading, "Bone me, Jack." I smiled at him, sliding my hand down over his ribs to the hollow of his waist. "I will. But first, Scott." I pulled Scott's open butt toward me, sucked on his tight little nut sack and then licked back to the small puckered opening, inserting my tongue. It was something we had often done before and Scott squirmed, pushing his hips toward me while his head bobbed on my rigid pole. The boy tasted sweet and clean, his ring smooth and very tight. A tingling thrill shot through me and I had to squeeze, holding back. "KY," I whispered to Tommy and the skinny boy crawled over to my pack, rummaged and came back with the tube of lubricant. I held out my left hand and he squeezed a slippery gob onto my fingers so I could smear the stuff around Scott's opening, pushing more up into him with first one and then a second finger. Scott was accustomed to this kind of penetration and squirmed with pleasure as I wiggled a fingertip back and forth over the nub at the base of his stiff boyhood. "OK," I told Tommy, nodding, and the boy tugged at Scott's slim shoulders, easing him off me. The youngster drew his head back, turned and, putting arms around Tommy, kissed the older boy. The two slim bodies writhed against each other and Tommy fell back onto the air mattress with Scott on top of him. For a moment I thought I might be forgotten, but once their lips parted Tommy positioned himself on his back with Scott straddling him, sunlight glistening on the young boy's slim silky form. He bent down taking his friend's four-inch length into his mouth, lifting his pert little butt into the air and spreading his thighs. Tommy held him around the waist tonguing Scott's stiffy while I knelt down and slid my hands over the glossy butt cheeks Scott was presenting to me. Caressing the two small globes I used my thumbs to spread them apart, uncovering the boy's tight opening. Scott was trembling with what might have been fear, excitement or both, and when I drew a fingertip across the puckered entrance he squirmed, arching himself to lift his butt even higher. "It's all right," I soothed, stroking the silky perfection of his thigh and hip. "It's going to be nice. You'll see." Glopping more KY on my fingers I put another application of lube on Scott's stretched ass, and then leaned over him. "Now, Push down," I coaxed. "Push down like I showed you." Scott arched a little, lean slim body tensing, and the constriction of his tight pucker eased. Using more gel I worked in two fingers, wiggling them both gently back and forth over his little nub. Then as the young boy continued to bear down, I pushed a third finger through the opening. Scott made a tiny sound and shifted position very slightly. For a moment his ring spasmed, tightening around my fingers, but then with a flutter it relaxed and I was able to slide my third finger all the way up. "That's it," I whispered. "Now you're doing good. Keep pushing." I squirted more KY around the opening, packed it in and massaged Scott's nub as firmly as I could until I felt the boy jerk to a few quick throbs pulsing in his lower belly. Below me Tommy was fondling and sucking his young friend's rigid boy stick. "Wicked!" I heard him breathe as Scott's hips bucked. Looking down I saw Tommy's tongue flick over the slit of Scott's straining shaft. With a final twist of my fingers I gave Scott's nub one more squeeze and then withdrew. The young boy's ass stretched open before me, shiny with lubrication, its tight hole relaxed and ready. Working fast I glopped KY on my own rigid member, now so hard the tip quivered with my heartbeats as I smeared slippery stuff around it. The way Scott was offering himself and the sight of his perfect smooth butt thrust up in invitation had me so aroused I nearly went off from the movement of my hand. With a desperate squeeze I held on and, leaning forward, guided the blunt tip of my throbbing spear into the boy's opening. Despite all my preparations Scott flinched when my thick head stretched him. He gave a little cry and wiggled but Tommy had him wrapped up tight around the waist, holding him in place. "Push down," I told him, my voice hoarse with desire. "Just keep pushing down..." Millimeter by millimeter I sank into the boy, my tip squeezing through the tight opening while I held the stiff shaft in place. Scott writhed and gave another little cry, "Uhhhhhh..." as I maintained a gentle thrusting pressure with my hips. Then, with a sudden pop, I was past the constricting ring and inside, that head of my rigid tool engulfed by the hot sweetness of Scott's yielding body. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh..." The boy gave a little cry of what could have been pain or delight and quivered, his legs twitching. The muscular ring of his entryway went into spasm, gripping the neck of my penetrating rod in a tight, painful squeeze. "Push down," I kept whispering to him, stroking Scott, my palms caressing his taut waist and silky hips. "Keep pushing down. Let it in." "Oooo... Oooo... Oooo..." the boy moaned, writhing. I could feel the taut muscular sheath of his lean stomach tense as he attempted to do what I was urging. Below us Tommy giggled. "He like just peed into my mouth, Jack." "That's OK. It won't hurt you." Tommy giggled again. "Uh-huh. I used to do that when you boned me. He's like all limp now, too." "He'll get stiff again." "Uh-huh. Don't stop, Jack. Make him shoot." "Can he?" "Sorta..." Using tongue and fingers Tommy went back to work and so did I. There was no chance of my stopping. The only worry was that I might spurt way too soon. The sensation of being up in Scott, of having his slim elegant body speared on my impaling rod was so exquisite it was all I could do to hold back, and for the boy's sake I wanted to restrain myself so his first time would be a memorable experience of sustained pleasure. The two naked boys wiggled around, Scott with his face buried in Tommy's crotch, squirming to accept my thickness, and Tommy holding him in place while he used tongue and mouth to coax the young boy's slender worm back into rigidity. Leaning forward I let Scott's own movements take me deeper, my thick shaft slowly burying itself in his perfect bubble butt. Little by little I slid inward, pushing up into the boy's sweet body until my groin was jammed tight against his stretched ass, the blunt tip of my rod buried in his loins. I held the slender boy, letting his warm silkiness writhe against me as he surrendered to the sensations radiating through him. His twisting movements wiggled my tip within him and he moaned as a shudder went through him, a rippling pulsation that I felt all along my sheathed rod. Then his hips bucked twice and beneath us Tommy began to writhe as well, sucking eagerly. "Ohhhhhh..." Scott moaned. "Uhhh... Uhhhhhhhhhh..." It was as if some internal switch had suddenly been thrown. Scott arched, his slim body straining in tension, all the swellings and planes of his immature muscles etched in definition by the sunlight. He thrust back, as if urging me to action and I began to pump my hips in a steady rhythm, grinding against his rounded butt at the end of every stroke. "Uhhh... Uhhh... Uhhh... Uhhh..." Scott moaned and thrust his little hips, matching my rhythm, lifting to meet me each time. He began to pant and then little pulsations throbbed within him, tiny contractions that I felt in the tight walls of his hot cavity, rippling like massaging fingers along my up thrust spear. "Ahhhh... Ohhhhhhhh..." Scott groaned, pushing back harder. With a sudden jerk his hips began to buck, and then, slim lean body shuddering, the boy gasped in passion as both Tommy and I moved on him. "Ah... Ah... Ah..." The pulsations only lasted a few seconds and then Scott went limp, his lithe form sagging into Tommy's arms, but I did not stop my thrusting rhythm and very soon the boy was tensing up again. "Ohhhh..." he moaned, arching and drawing his head back. "Ooooooo..." Again, and then a third time, I brought Scott to his immature little climax and by then his opening was gaping so wide I could slide in him almost without effort, withdrawing my entire length and driving it home. Scott writhed with pleasure, pushing back as hard as he could, impaling himself on every thrust, and the boy's passionate response took me past restraint. A spurt of pre-come escaped from my tip and despite a desperate squeeze to hold back the pressure was too great. With a final thrust I drove into the boy, arching to stretch my tip up as far as possible, and then in jerk after jerk after jerk I erupted into him, flooding the boy's hot cavity with my load. "Oooo... Oooo..." Scott squealed. Bucking, legs kicking, the boy convulsed in a dry orgasm more powerful than anything before. The two of us locked together, heaving and moaning while the pulsations lasted, and then we collapsed at last onto Tommy, who sucked on Scott for a few seconds longer and then rolled free to sit up and tug at my arm. "Now me," he demanded. "Give me a minute," I told him, trying to catch my breath. Keeping an arm around Scott I turned onto my back and the young boy snuggled against me, one knee drawn up on my hip and his head resting on my chest. Tommy stretched out on my other side, half rolled against me. "Bone me, Jack," he pleaded, putting fingers into my groin to rub my flaccid member. "As soon as it's back up." I stroked his silky shoulder, pulling him close for a long deep kiss. Tommy loved to kiss, had from the very first time, and liked having my tongue deep in his mouth while we breathed each other's breaths. He wrapped one slim arm around my neck and continued stroking and rubbing me with his other hand. When our lips finally parted his fingers remained busy with my temporarily limp tool while he rested his head on my shoulder. When you gonna' take us campin', Jack?" "When can you guys get away for a few days?" Tommy grimaced. "I can, anytime. But Scott's mother..." I nodded, understanding what he meant. Because of the long hours his mother worked Scott was free to do what he wanted most of the time. But getting away for any extended period was another thing. Either because of her personality or the situation, Scott's mother kept him on a short leash when she could. "Well, she's letting him stay over with you tonight. See if she'll go for it again. I'll be back in a few weeks. We'll set something up." "Yeah, maybe..." Tommy did not sound very hopeful and on my other side Scott stirred and shook his head. "Cheer up, guys," I told them, giving both a hug. "You haven't seen yet what I brought you." Tommy lifted up. "What, Jack?" "Something. Get my backpack." Eagerly, the lanky boy reached across the air mat to grab my pack. I pulled it open, drew out a small plastic bag and dumped the contents. "Oh, wow!" Tommy breathed, his eyes shining. It was a selection of necklaces and wrist rings all made of woven rawhide. Some plain, some decorated with wooden beads and others with bits of coral, sharks teeth, or tiny metal seals. Tommy raked through the pile, lifting out a wooden bead necklace while Scott scrambled over me to grab a share as well. "There's plenty for both of you," I assured the boys, untangling the pile and laying everything out. Tommy bent his head so I can slip the necklace he had chosen over his light brown hair. The thing fit just right, not too loose, the wooden beads lying across the hollow of his throat. "This goes with it," I said, picking up a matching wrist ring. The boy held out his left hand and I worked the leather ring onto his skinny wrist. "Awesome!" Tommy breathed, admiring it. Meanwhile Scott had been fussing around with a wristband of his own, one decorated with beads and bits of coral. Tommy and I helped him put it on and then got the necklace that matched it around his neck. The boy fingered the beads, eyes cast down shyly. "You look great," I assured him. "There are some anklets there, too, if you want to try them." After some debate the boys chose one each; a strand of woven leather with a shark's tooth for Tommy and a similar anklet for Scott except his was decorated with a silver medallion. "Nice," I told them, as they knelt on the mattress showing off, their young bodies gleaming in the sunlight. "How 'bout some pictures?" "Yeah," Tommy said and both boys got to their feet, staggering a little on the yielding mattress before stepping gingerly onto the mossy ground. The boys liked posing for me, and we usually worked in a session whenever I came. My digital camera was in the bag and while I got it out Tommy guided Scott a few steps away to where overhanging leaves filtered the sun's rays into patterns of light and shade. "Not on the air mat, Jack," he told me. "The mat like don't look right." "Yeah," I agreed. "Not natural. We'll just use bushes and trees for background." "Uh-huh." It was strange, but through the lens it was Tommy, not Scott, who always had the most sensual appeal. Scott's perfection, ethereal and dazzling when I posed him in the sunshine, was translated by the camera into an image of subtle awkwardness and stiffness despite all my efforts. It was almost certainly the fault of my technique. Perhaps in the hands of a great photographer like the one who created 'The Field' series, all of Scott's striking beauty could have been captured. Instead it was lanky Tommy who was my best model. Somehow the camera lens transformed his skinny angles into pictures of mysterious faun-like eroticism. Posed on a rock or by a tree, slender form highlighted in sun and shadow, Tommy became a woodland sprite, the spirit of boyhood itself, staring out with eyebrows raised over elfin features as if propositioning the viewer, and mocking him at the same time. Both boys loved to pose, Scott as much as Tommy although he was more self-conscious, and perhaps that explained why I could never get the quality of pictures I wanted of him. For a while they took turns, showing off their new wrist rings, necklaces and anklets. Tommy, my uninhibited one, liked flaunting his body and he led the way, assuming provocative stances with Scott imitating him. After a few dozen poses he whispered something to Scott who nodded and they posed together, Scott in Tommy's arms, leaning back against his friend or half turned to kiss him. I clicked off shot after shot, recording Scott's slender perfection set off against Tommy's hard angularity. Then, when I finally had to stop to change batteries, the boys ran over to me. "Let's see, Jack," Tommy begged. While I reviewed the pictures both of them leaned in on either side, peering at their images in the camera's small back screen. Neither boy was very talkative, but I could tell by the way they pressed against me they were fascinated with the results. Now and then Tommy would squeeze my arm and whisper, "That one, Jack," to indicate a pose a particularly liked. The two smooth young bodies sliding against my own were very arousing, and by the time we finished my rod was swaying in half erection. Tommy's fingers closed around it, his cool touch sending a tangling thrill up through my loins. As I slipped an arm around his waist the boy hugged close and ground his stiff boy stick against my hip. We exchanged a long deep kiss, our tongues exploring each other's mouths while our naked bodies writhed and twisted. Then Tommy was whispering into my ear, "Bone me, Jack. Go up in me..." I handed off the camera to Scott, telling him, "Put it in my bag," and was pulled toward the air mattress where Tommy rolled onto his back, drawing his knees up to offer his puckered entry. The lanky boy moaned with eagerness as I lubed him, flexing to open himself when I smeared KY around his hole and packed more inside. "Hurry..." Tommy whispered. The boy was staring upward shivering with desire. He gripped his knees, strained his slim thighs apart and pleaded, "Bone me, bone me, bone me..." I needed no encouragement. My spear was now so hard that every beat of my heart gave it a painful throb. I coated tip and shaft with gel, handed off the tube to Scott who had taken position, kneeling beside his friend's head, and then I bent forward over Tommy's shuddering body. Guiding my shaft, I pushed the blunt tip into the boy's ring and he mewed, quivering as it slid up with almost no resistance. A thrust of my hips brought me all the way into Tommy, filling him while the boy arched up to meet me, desperate to take all my length into his body. Once my groin bottomed out on his stretched ass I rotated my hips and Tommy's head went back, mouth opening as his breath escaped in a long sigh of pleasure, "Ahhhhhhh..." With slow, gentle movements I began to pump, never withdrawing more than halfway before thrusting in again and Tommy clutched at me with arms and legs, straining to deepen each of my penetrations. His stiff boy boner was trapped against my stomach and I felt the first throbs pulse in it just before Tommy jerked from contractions that rippled through his loins and squeezed my up thrust rod. "Ah... Ah... Ah..." the boy gasped, his skinny body writhing. "Uhh... Uhhhhhhhh..." Leaning down beside his friend Scott pushed a small hand between our bodies, found Tommy's straining boner and began rubbing up and down on the quivering shaft. Tommy threw his head back, mouth opening wide as his slim hard form bowed in ecstasy. More throbs jerked him, making his hips buck. I maintained a slow pace, squeezing to stretch my shaft up into the boy, and with Scott helping we brought Tommy into another heaving spasm. Then, kissing the boy on the lips, I withdrew, nudged him and Tommy rolled onto his side. Without being told Scott moved into the sixty-nine position with his friend, each boy wrapping arms around the other's hips and taking the other's stiff four inches into his mouth. I was now so hard it was painful and after re-lubing I stretched out behind Tommy, the jut of my rigid shaft pushing between his skinny butt cheeks. The boy lifted his top leg for me and with one slow continuous thrust I slid my spear up into his hot tunnel. Tommy quivered, arched and then bucked again, jerking while Scott clung to him, sucking at the clear droplets that ran from his friend's little slit. Pumping faster and squeezing to hold myself back I slid in and out of Tommy's stretched opening, bringing the boy to a second, third and fourth heaving spasm. Tommy moaned in passion, fingers pushing into Scott's butt as he humped the younger boy in rhythm with my pounding. There was a sudden rush within me and then all restraint was gone. I ground against Tommy, my shaft stretching up inside him as fluid poured from the tip. Tommy knew what was coming, and craving the sense of fullness pulsating inside him, he pushed back against me, every muscle in his lean body etched in tension. With Scott clinging, the three of us hung for a moment poised at the brink. Then jerk after jerk released me into the boy, the sensation of my thick shaft spurting inside bringing Tommy to arching, quivering spasm. His narrow hips bucked in convulsive heaves and he gasped, "Ah... Ah... Ah... Ah..." as a wave of boy passion broke over him. Afterwards I lay panting on the mattress while Tommy and Scott huddled together, exchanging kisses. I stroked both of them, caressing their silky smooth young bodies and finally, after my heartbeat and breathing were back to normal, I gave them both a nudge. "Can we like go to Pizza Hut for lunch?" Tommy asked, sitting up. "Absolutely," I answered, and Tommy held out a palm for Scott to touch with his own. I opened the valve of the mattress and the boys rolled around on it forcing the air out. While I was folding it up Tommy gave me a sly glance and asked, "After we run the go-kart, are we like goin' to the ledge? The ledge was another of our secret places, a deserted spot on Lookout Mountain with level space for the air mattress and a nice view. "Yeah," I told him. Tommy nudged Scott and the younger boy nodded back. They pulled their clothes back on and then Tommy began stuffing the bulky mat into my backpack. After a glance at his friend, Scott leaned close and passed me a folded piece of paper. It was his report card and even though I was not familiar with all the new terminology a quick scan told me he had done well. The young boy stared up at me, obviously hoping for approval and I gave his shoulders a squeeze. Whispering so Tommy would not overhear I told him, "Nice going, kid. This is great." Scott took another quick glance at Tommy and then stretched up on tiptoe, pulling me down close to whisper, "I wanna do it more." The boy's silky blonde hair brushed against me. I breathed in his scent: sunlight on bare skin - clean and fresh and all boy. "We will," I whispered back. "This afternoon." Scott remained close as the three of us went back to where the go-kart was hidden. "Are you coming to our game tomorrow?" he asked. "Could be." I turned to Tommy. "What time does it start?" "One," the lanky boy told me. "You gotta' come watch us, Jack." "Yeah, I'll be there." Scott slid an arm around my waist and hugged as we made our way down the steep hill. "What are you gonna' do when lacrosse is over?" I asked him while Tommy got the kart out of the bushes. The slender boy shrugged. Sunrays, slanting through the trees, blazed in his golden hair and in that moment he was so perfect he might have been a young god, playing at being mortal in scuffed white shorts and faded shirt. I smiled at him. "If you had a choice, what would you like to do?" Scott tilted his head as he thought about it. "Tennis," he said. "I like tennis." "We'll find a tennis camp you can go to. You'll have a phone now. Call me and we'll talk about it." I gave his shoulders one more hug and Scott gazed up at me with a hopeful look. The two of us pushed the cart while Tommy steered it onto the path and then I got it started for them. Scott climbed onto his friend's lap and with a wave the boys started back toward the van. Jogging behind them I watched the play of light and shadow on their young bodies, thinking about the future. Tommy was a known quantity. In the well-to-do neighborhood where he and Scott lived he would always be an outsider. Two years, I thought; in two years Tommy would be a pimply fifteen, going the way of his older brothers; rolling joints, drinking beer, working on cars... All the charm he now had lost... But Scott... Scott would fit in. Scott was the future... I would have to find a tennis camp for him, and teach him to keep his white shorts clean... In my mind's eye I saw a lovely golden lad, gleaming in sunlight, deliver an over hand smash to win the junior tennis championship. There was a roar from the crowd of onlookers as they came to their feet, cheering... *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Hope you enjoyed it! This story is the fifth of a twenty-four part series that features the same central character. There will be something for everyone - single hook ups, doubles, twins, first times and hand offs. Drop me a line if you have a favorite chapter (I do, but won't reveal it). Look for a new chapter or two each month. ---------------------------------------------------- Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment, my e-mail address is: hunterjoe45@yahoo.com I will try to answer all serious mailings. My on-line access is very limited. Rants and ravings will not get consideration. To all you readers who enjoy these stories, please support Nifty with contributions and keep the Archive online. Check the Nifty home page for ways to make contributions. Without this Archive those of us who write for you will lose a wonderful resource to get our stories out. You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list. I hope you will read and enjoy! All the Best. Joe