From: an225037@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an225037@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 15 Apr 1995 17:22:28 UTC
Subject: New Story: Cub Scout Camp (Mm, pedo)

                    **** WARNING ****

Do not read if under 18 
If you object to peado postings, please do not read, I did
put warnings in the header, so ignoring this is at your risk.
None of the characters is real, it is all a product of
my own warped or otherwise imagination, this does not happen
in real life, even if we want it to!

               ***** Cub Scout Camp Part 1 *****

Some time ago I encountered a number of young gentlemen who  were 
to open my eyes to more things than I could have imagined.   For 
many  years I had known about my own attraction to boys, but  had 
held back from any contacts because of the possible consequences.  
On  the  other hand, I had established a reputation  as  a  local 
photo nut, always with a camera at the ready, and always  willing 
to take a shot of a smiling face.  That many of my subjects were 
the  local youth was apparently no problem, and I had even had  a 
small exhibition of my work in the local library.  As a young man 
in  his  early twenties, my lack of  girlfriends  also  attracted 
little comment.

It  was  then that one of my friends, Arcala for  the  local  cub 
scouts asked if I would be interested in spending the first  week 
of  the summer holidays helping out at a camp for the  boys.   It 
seemed   a  perfect  opportunity  to  expand  my   collection   of 
photographs  in  perfect safety, so naturally I agreed.   It  was 
difficult  to  restrain my acceptance, as the thought of  a  week 
surrounded  by eight to eleven year olds was rather too much  for 
the brain to absorb in one go.

Prior  to the camp, my friend took me along to the Pack  meeting, 
to introduce me to the little wolves, and in his words, to let me 
know just what I had let myself in for.  They were like any other 
bunch of young lads, a diverse mixture, thick and thin, tall  and 
small, the boisterous and the shy, but overall the impression was 
of twenty odd enthusiastic little tornadoes, with hardly a bad one 
in the bunch.  One of the Sixers, leader of Red Six, took me into 
his protection, and for the rest of the evening assumed that I was 
going to be with his group.  He was a lively, intense eleven year 
old,  by no means the largest in his Six, with short, dark  hair, 
hazel  eyes,  and  a spring to his walk which was  a  delight  to 
watch.   He  was called David, and insisted that  it  was  David, 
never Dave!

I  was  introduced  to his little band, and  will  give  a  quick 
description  of each of them, just to avoid digressing  later  in  
this narrative.

David's  Second was Peter, nicknamed 'Ox'. As  his  nom-de-guerre 
implies, he was a big lad.  Just over ten years old, he was about 
five  feet four inches tall, and heavy, not fat, in  build.   His 
blond  hair was fine, almost thinning, and with bright  blue  eyes 
looked as if there was more than a touch of Viking blood in  him.  
Despite his bulk, he was careful with the other boys, only  using 
his strength when called on by David in the Pack games.

The  three  others in Red Six were Alan, an overweight  ten  year 
old,  who's grin was always present, despite being teased by  the 
others  for his lack of fitness and ever ready appetite.  Ivan,  a 
thin  willowy  boy of Eurasian descent, with long arms  and  legs 
looking  out of proportion to his body, and whom all  the  others 
claimed  was an expert in martial arts.  Last was Steve, a  small 
eight years, with huge dark eyes that could swallow a  susceptible 
chap  right up.  All his clothes seemed several sizes too  large, 
which  was  explained by the others as  his  mother's  optimistic 
attitude that he would some day grow into them.

As  those of you who were keeping count are about to  point  out, 
this  is only five boys, yet I referred to them as a  Six.   Well, 
each  sub-group in a Cub Pack is called a Six, and when you  only 
have  twenty  boys, equal division is rather messy,  and  usually 
fatal  to the lads you try to perform the division  on!   Anyway, 
the  leader  of  each Six is a Sixer, if I were  to  rename  them 
Fives,  the leader would be a Fiver, which is either five  pounds 
sterling,  or  suspiciously like something out of  a  book  about 
rabbits!

Several more pre-camp visits to the pack reinforced David's  hold 
on me, so when the arrangements were made, it was decided that  I 
would  be with Red and Green Sixes, and the Arcala would be  with 
the Blue and Yellow Sixes.  This fitted the rather limited number 
of  tents the pack had, giving eleven boys and one adult to  each 
tent.   This,  as many younger readers may point  out,  would  not 
happen  now.  Not only was the ratio of adults to boys very  bad, 
but  having  adults in the lads tent  is  virtually  unthinkable.  
Well,  this  was some time ago, and life a little  different.   I 
must admit, it was only a few years after this that things  began 
to  change,  but  at  the time no one  thought  to  question  the 
arrangements.

The Pack had also given me a name, and I became Ballo, the  bear.  
My  preference  would  have  been  something  like  Bargera,  the 
panther, but no, although I was not a large chap, they had  made 
their  minds up that I was more like a big, bumbling bear than  a 
sleek black cat, and I guess they were right.

The  Saturday we set off was overcast and dark, not  boding  well 
for  the  coming week, but the half dozen boys  travelling  along 
with Arcala and myself in the van, along with all the  equipment, 
were cheerful and happy.  As was apparently normal, we were  only 
taking  the lads who had no transport of their own, and the  rest 
were  being dropped at the site by their parents.  It was  a  big 
site,  with  a couple of Site Wardens resident  for  the  summer.  
They would help with the activities, which we would do  alongside 
several  other  Cub Packs.  All the food for the  week  was  also 
being prepared by Site Staff, so except for the camp cooking  day 
we would at least eat reasonably.  I don't know if you have eaten 
food prepared by a group of enthusiastic but generally  unskilled 
Cubs, but I do not recommend it as a regular diet!

On  the other hand, do not assume that there was nothing for  the 
boys  to  do  but play, as not only did they have  to  assist  in 
pitching the tents, they all had regular jobs around camp.   This 
could be helping with the washing up, collecting the laundry,  or 
ensuring  all  litter was picked up.  The idea was to  develop  a 
certain amount of responsibility, as well as have a good time.

By  the  time  we were all sorted out,  tents  up,  sleeping-bags 
assigned, the evening was drawing in.  The Wardens called all  the 
Packs  together,  and regaled us with a few stories  before  each 
Pack  was called to attention, the closing words spoken, and  the 
Packs  dismissed to bed.  Arcala and myself spoke with  the  other 
leaders  for  a while, discussing the next few  days  activities, 
before  retiring to our tents.  As we did so, the rain  that  had 
threatened  all  day started to softly fall. 

Back  at my tent I checked the boys, all were breathing the  long 
breaths of boy sleep, most looking like small angels in the light 
of  my torch (not all, some lads will look ugly if you do a  full 
film make-over on them, and a few will always look malicious).  I 
stripped  off to my under shorts, and slipped gratefully into  my 
sleeping-bag by the tent flap, to be at hand if they needed me.

Some time before midnight I was woken by a small hand shaking  my 
shoulder, and a whispered 'Ballo!'.  It was David.  He  explained 
that  his sleeping-bag had touched the edge of the tent, and  was 
now  soaked by the heavy rain I could hear pounding down  on  the 
canvas  above.  He had checked that none of the others were in  a 
similar predicament, and finding all alright, had decided to  wake 
me.   What  I was to do was a mystery, as all the bags  had  been 
used, but David had a suggestion I would never have dared voice.
'Can I come in with you, Ballo?'
I  prevaricated,  but he claimed to be cold from  the  rain,  and 
indeed the boy was shivering, wearing only pj bottoms against the 
cold  night  air, so I agreed, expecting to evict him  early  the 
next morning before the others awoke.  I unzipped the side of the 
bag to let him in, when he slipped off the pj's!
'But their wet, Ballo, I can't wear them now.'
His  shivering had increased, so I ushered him in beside me,  and 
zipped us up together.  The bag was fairly large, but with two of 
us  the room for manoeuvre was very limited, and David pressed  his 
cold skin to mine as much as he could.  Having no other option, I 
held  the  half  frozen boy to me, until, as he  warmed  up,  his 
breathing settled into sleep. My own reaction to this little body 
was, to me, slightly embarrassing, as a certain part of my anatomy 
rose to the occasion.  I guessed that David had not noticed,  and 
with his otherwise welcome and comforting prescents beside me,  I 
slept.

My second wakening that night was abrupt and startling.  A  large 
clap  of  thunder  crashed  around us, and I  could  hear  a  few 
whimperings  from around the tent.  What was more  disturbing  was 
the  realisation that the hand of the boy with his sleeping  face 
inches from mine was firmly wrapped around my decidedly  aroused 
organ! I spoke gentle soothings to the other boys in the tent  as 
I  tried  to disengage from the small fingers, but every  time  I 
moved,  his hand tightened it's grip, and began to slide  up  and 
down.  Still there was no change in his face or breathing, but my 
voice began to crack as I continued to sooth the disturbed  sleep 
of the rest of the tent.  Slipping a hand down I intercepted  his 
wrist,  but  as I attempted to put his hand off  my  now  pulsing 
member,  his  legs  moved, and a small knee  pressed  between  my 
thighs, squashing a very important bag! Each time I pulled at his 
wrist, his knee thudded in my groin.  I was pushed tight  against 
the  sleeping-bag, with no room to move, so tried  staying  stock 
still.   It  was to no avail, his hand cupped  round  me,  little 
finger straying over the head of my cock on the up-stroke,  thumb 
burying  itself in the hair of my pubis on the downward  journey.  
Only  in  my dreams had this even been a vague  possibility,  and 
here was a boy I had found attractive and fun masturbating me  in 
his sleep.  Panic set in as I realised I was about to  ejaculate, 
would the boy wake? And if not, how would I explain the debris to 
him in the morning if I could not reach to clean him up?  Then it 
was too late, as he brushed his palm over the tip of my  hard-on, 
I  shot the lot into his hand.  Thankfully, unlike some,  I  only 
ever have a small amount to give, so there was none of that messy 
flooding  his chest with gallons of semen, but it  was  definitely 
going to cause some problem.  But as I shuddered, squeezing out a 
last  few drops, I felt the lad move. My eyes, which  had  closed 
during my climax, sprang open, expecting to see a newly woken boy 
wanting answers.  Instead, I found him looking, smiling, straight 
at  me,  as  he brought the cum coated hand  to  his  mouth,  and 
delicately licked it clean. With that he said 'night', turned over 
and fell asleep.  I was too astonished to do or say anything, and 
another  clap  of  thunder,  with a  bright  flash  of  lightning 
redirected  my attention to the signs of panic in other parts  of 
the  tent.  By the time I had calmed down the others,  David  was 
definitely asleep, and I decided that explanations could wait till 
daylight.


                 *** Cub Scout Camp Part 2 ***

The next morning I awoke to find myself alone in my sleeping bag, 
a situation I was no means unhappy about, as the thought of what 
the other boys would have imagined if they had found David and me 
in the same bed disturbed me somewhat, particularly as they would 
have been right!  Looking across the tent I saw the magnifcent 
sight of young David bent over, back towards me as he stepped 
into his underpants.  Seeing his slim bottom vanish under thin 
cloth made me realise that there was far more that I would have 
liked us to have done the night before, and was instantly flooded 
with shame at what I was thinking.  I must have made a sudden 
move, as he turned round to look at me, smiled with a twinke in 
his eye, and stepped over the sleeping bodies to crouch beside my 
head.

Raising a finger to his lips to ensure my silence, he indicated 
that I shoud get up.  Swiftly, I slid out of my bag, and pulled 
my trousers on, turning red as my erection showed itself clearly 
to the boy.  His reaction was to grin at me, pull forward the 
front of his pants to reveal a small but hard cocklet, and mouth 
the words 'Me too!'.  He let the elastic snap back, dismissing 
the state of us both, and pointed to the other sleeping bags 
surrounding us.  Only about half of them seemed occupied, until I 
realised that there was more than one boy in most of the filled 
ones.

My first thought was that there had been a mass orgy the night 
before, but David must have guessed the line my reasoning was 
taking, and corrected me with a quick 'No, stupid! They were 
frightened by the storm!'.  Of course, first night away from 
home, and we have a thunder and lightning storm!  The kids most 
frightened had bolted to the safety of their only slightly less 
terrified friends, who had welcomed a comforting closeness!  Only 
two boys were still alone, Mark someone-or-other (never was much 
good at names), the Sixer of the Greens, and his Second, an 
attractive lad whose name totally escapes me.

To avoid embarresing the twosomes, David and I woke them first, 
only rousing Mark and his side-kick after the other boys were up.  
I had noticed that three of those in other boys bags were naked, 
despite the fact that all of them had been properly attired the 
night before.  Checking their original bedding, I discovered that 
in each case the fear of the night before had given rise to a 
small epidemic of bed wetting.  The light coming in from the 
outside indicated that the sun, against all predictions, was now 
blessing us with it's full attention, so as the boys dressed in 
their uniforms, I asked how many had bedding wet from the rain.  
David was the first to pipe up, swiftly followed by the other 
three, one of whom was little Steve.  Quickly I had them scoop up 
their sleeping bags and other 'wet' gear, and dispatched them off 
to the drying lines.  I know that it should have all been washed, 
but I had a feeling the youngsters would prefere things this way.

After making sure the lads were performing their ablutions 
correctly, and finishing mine, I met with Arcala to discuss the 
days plan.  The normal pattern was that the boys would be called 
to raise the flag before breakfast, during which time they would 
have to wear their uniforms.  For those of you who are unfamiliar 
with Cub Scouts at this time, it consisted of a green jumper, 
under which either a shirt or T-shirt could be worn, grey shorts 
lined with white polyester, grey long socks held up with garters 
(green garter tabs poking from under the top fo the sock), blak 
or brown shoes, a scalf held by a woggle at the neck, and a green 
cap with gold/yellow piping.  It was a very practical uniform, 
making the boys look smart as a group, and relativly easy to 
maintain.  After breakfast they had to change into rough-housing 
clothes for the mornings activities, until the evening, when a 
Pack meeting would require a change back into uniform.  Any time 
they were going off site they were also required to change.  To 
modern eyes this may seem excessive, but gave the boys a 
structure and pattern to each day that they were all aware of.

The first mornings activity was a talk by one of the Wardens 
about field crafts, showing the lads pictures of the common 
tracks that could be found around the camp area. As I half 
listened, I looked at the varied boys scattered about me.  The 
discription of rough-house clothing appeared to have been taken 
literally by most of the mothers.  There were boys dressed in 
ripped jeans and old, marked shirts, others in clothing either 
way too large for them, obviously worn out hand-downs from older 
brothers, and a few in the reverse position.  Both Alan and Ox 
were in this latter group, although where Alan seemed to spill 
over the edges of his shorts and shirt, Ox looked to just have 
grown out of his vertically, his hands pulling down on the edge 
of his T-shirt in a desperate attempt to rejoin it with his 
jeans.  

All in all it was a very plesent sight, and I started snapping 
off a few shots for the record.  The boys for the most part took 
little interest in my activity, letting me snatch some good 
figure and portrait work.  However, David played up to the 
camera, lounging back on the straw bale that made the benches, 
legs falling wide open.  His shorts were blue, tight and short in 
the leg, and the strip of cloth between his legs insurficient to 
cover the white of his pants.  I snapped off two shots, realising 
that this could be a film I might have to develop and print 
myself!

The morning was finished off with the lads scattered all over the 
field, to find as many different tracks as they could.  As each 
Six found a new or suspected new track, I had the duty of 
recording them for prosperity, along with the young chap who had 
found it.  By the end of that, then recording them at their 
chores after dinner, followed by a long and exausting field game 
played first between Sixes, then between the winning Six in each 
Pack, and I realised that I would have to pace my photo-taking or 
end up running out of film before the mid point of the week!

David's Six had won the field game out of our Pack, but had then 
been swiftly thrashed (get down all you C.P. lovers, I mean they 
lost, not were physically beaten!) by a Six from a Pack that 
seemed to be made up of full size rugby players (Football to all 
you from the far side of the Atlantic).  He was down in the 
dumps, until Mark, of the Green Six, commented that the Reds 
would have won if it wasn't for Alan or Steve being members.  
David rose like an avenging angel in defense of his men, with a 
reply to the sense that they had at least managed to thwart 
Mark's ambitions.  It looked as if a fight was about to break 
out, and I was about to intervene when Ox stood up from where he 
was sitting, just behind Mark, and between him and the sun.  Mark 
realised his personal space had just got darker, as a shape 
behind him eclipsed the sun.  He turned to see Ox grin down at 
him, and instantly shut up.  Spinning back to face David, he said 
'Get you!', and stormed back to where the rest of his Six were 
sitting.  The episode threw a (literal!) shadow over our Pack, 
souring what was an enjoyable day slightly, but at least it had 
blown over with no injuries.

That night, after I had had a short time with the other leaders, 
I retired to the tent.  Before undressing, I checked on my 
charges, especially a certain young man.   All seemed to be 
soundly asleep, and I admit to being a little disapointed, 
although also relieved in some ways.  It could have got a bit 
awquard, particularly if one of the others woke up and found the 
two of us ensconced in my sleeping bag.  I stripped off, and fell 
comfortably into bed, sleep coming almost imediatly.

He did it again.  This time, instead of waking me and claiming 
asilum from a wet bed, he must have unzipped my sleeping bag and 
slipped in, closing it behind him.  The first I know is waking to 
find his body hot against mine, both hands trying to pull my 
shorts off.  I started to exclaim, to send him back to his own 
sleep (honest!), but he pressed a finger to my lips, and 
whispered 'Don't want to wake the others, do you?'.  I stopped in 
my tracks, not only would it look extremely bad if the tent was 
roused just at the moment, but also I was looking forward to a 
repeat of the night before.  I nodded agreement, and to emphisise 
my complience, slipped my shorts the rest of the way off.  He 
grined and pecked my lips with his, then dove down to grasp my 
very active organ in both hands.  I must admit, I am not hugely 
endowed, just your average chap, so his grip covered almost all 
my erection (O.K. about six to six and a half, if you must know). 
I moved my groin, not to dislodge him this time, but to thrust 
against his hands.

He let go with one, and guided my own fingers between his legs, 
to grasp the lovely hot cocklet I had glimpsed that morning. I 
remember it being about the thickness of my index finger, and 
similar in length, just over two inches long (so I'll never be a 
piano player), hard but with enough loose skin to move my fingers 
smoothly along the shaft.  I slid my other hand under his side, 
and down to the two mounds of his buttocks.  We continued for 
only a couple of muinetes before he stopped, and indicated for me 
to stop fondling him and lie on my back.  As I did so he rolled 
on top of me, slipping down slightly until our cocks rested side 
by side.  Slowly he began to pump, and again I matched his 
movements with my own.  Then he stopped again, grinned in my 
face, and reached for something beside the sleeping bag.  He 
brought it in front of my eyes, and I could just distinguish the 
shape and writing - it was a jar of vasaline!  This was the 
ultimate in my fantasies, and I could hardly believe that he ment 
what I was imagining, but he swiftly scooped out a handful, and 
reached between our bodies to massage it into my tool.  The the 
fingers left my skin, and I felt him scrunch up, sliding further 
up my chest, little prick hard against my belly.  I guess he was 
spreading himself with lubricant, oiling what I imagined was the 
cutest boy bum-hole, if only I could have seen it!  He finished 
his ministrations, and began to edge his body down mine, towards 
my waiting organ.  I felt his fingers on it again, guiding it 
between his buttocks.  I pushed up gently as I felt the tip touch 
his body, encountering a small resistance until David jerked 
sharply down, impailing himself.  He crossed his arms over my 
chest, rested his chin on top, and grinned again.  Having a boy 
grin at you while working his way down your shaft is slightly 
disconcerting, particularly when you are not sure what his 
overall intentions are, but there are worse situatuions!

He stopped with about two thirds of me imbedded in his nether 
regions, with the whispered comment that that was all that would 
fit!  Gently I started to pump in and out of his pliant rectum, 
as he resumed his counter movements, cock almost in my belly 
button.  I could only sustain this for a short while before I 
shot my sperm into his bottom.  He continued his pumping, until 
my now dead errection slipped out of him.  'Bugger, you cum 
already?', he said, before sliding down inside the bag, where he 
cleaned any debris from my genitiles by the gentle suction of his 
mouth!  Finishing his housework, he surfaced to sit on my chest, 
and point his cocklet at my mouth.  I guessed his intentions, and 
drew his errection between my lips. I sucked and licked his 
boyhood, running my tounge over and round his tight little 
scrotum, until, after about quarter of an hour, his body 
stiffened, and he slammed his groin into my face. I tasted a 
small unknown taste, a sweetness with a hint of salt, and 
swallowed his product.  He pulled back, and lowered his face to 
kiss me again, this time lingering, and I responded in kind.

With no further word, he rose, and vanished to his own bed, 
leaving me in a turmoil of agony and extasy.  This was the best 
thing that had ever happened to me, yet what was going to happen, 
why had he chosen me, and what would happen I anyone else found 
out?



As usual, any notes that you enjoyed this story are welcome, and 
keep me writing.  Any faming will be ignored - I post enough 
warnings, so if you have got this far I am assuming the story is 
to your taste.  Constructive critisism is very welcome, as I am 
sure my writing is far from perfect.


                 ***** WARNING ******

This is the third part of a paedophilic story involving boy/s
and a man.

If you are under the age of consent in your country, please
do not read this (in fact, does your mother know you are down
loading this kind of story?)

If this type of story is likly to upset or anger you, please
do not read it, you are not going to enjoy it, and it would
be a waste of your time.

None of this story is true, I have on occasion posted things
about my childhood elsewhere, they are true, this is not, and
is very unlikly to ever have been, or will be.  If I post a story
and say it is not fact, I mean it, when I post facts, I will
let you know.

By th way, the rest of the text has been spell checked, (dyslexia
kules RO?), but some words for some reason are not in the computer,
sorry about that.

Hope you enjoy this.

P.S. Cubs are between eight and eleven.
P.P.S. David is eleven


           ***** Cub Scout Camp Chapter 3 ******

Yet again the day broke to a beautiful blue sky and warming sun.  
Looking around the tent, I could see that all my charges were 
still deep in the land of sleep.  Quietly, I prepared the camera, 
attaching the flash to the top.  It would have been better to 
use natural light, and I was a little concerned that the bright 
flash might wake some of my subjects, but I wanted to take a few 
good shots of these angelic faces peeping out from their covers.  
Starting round the tent, only about half had enough head (and 
yes, I do mean the one with hair, eyes and teeth in!) showing to 
make a good picture.  Starting in no particular order, I took a 
couple of frames of each sleeping boy, eliciting no more than a 
few flickers of their eyes, or an occasional murmuring.

My last subject was David, and I had taken two shots when his 
eyes sprang open, showing an instant alertness.  Boys seem to 
come in two varieties when it is to do with waking - those that 
spend half an hour in transition from one state to the next, and 
those that click from sleep to full awareness in a moment.  He 
grinned his familiar grin at me, and slid his sleeping bag down 
his body to reveal he had been sleeping au natural.  Pushing the 
coverings with his arms extended showed his naked chest, stomach 
and hips, and the start of his pelvis V, pointing to where his 
delightful organs were just hidden.  I rapidly stood, to fit all 
of his displayed length in my lens (none of this wide/telephoto 
lens business which makes life so much easier now, I was stuck 
with a few fixed length ones, and the wide angle was on the other 
side of the tent), and snapped off two more shots, giving the 
flash just enough time to recharge.  If there had been a prize 
for the most erotic non-pornographic boy pic of the year, I was 
sure that I had just taken it!  It was as well that I was using 
black and white film, as I could develop and print those at home, 
and I did not really want this particular roll to go to the 
processors.  The boy pulled his legs out of their wrappings and 
up to his chest, small feet bouncing on taut buttocks, showing a 
small dark rose where I had been housed the night before. My 
mouth hung open, staring down at that little hole, trying to 
imagine how it had accommodated my admittedly average cock.
'You going to take another photo or not?' the young voice 
enquired, but as I raised the camera to my eye there was a 
coughing from one of the other boys, and this started a general 
moving and waking around us.

My small friend sprang up and started to pull on various items of 
clothing, as I busied myself giving the impression that I was 
doing the wake-up rounds.  I must say he was slightly 
provocative, as most boys start by putting on their underpants, 
where as he had jumper and socks on before even searching for his 
nether garments!

Steve saw the camera in my hand as he got up, pj's as big as all 
his other clothing, making him look as if he, rather than his 
clothes, had shrunk in the wash.
'You been taking pictures of us, Ballo?', he asked.  I replied in 
the affirmative, but he was disappointed that he had not been one 
of my subjects.
'You were buried right at the bottom of your sleeping bag, Steve, 
all I would have got would have been a little lump under the 
covers!'
He agreed it would have been pointless, as he divested himself of 
his nightwear, but made me promise to do a portrait of him later 
that day.  At that point I would have agreed to anything, as he 
made his request while slowly pulling on his underpants, letting 
me see all his wares.  Like the rest of him, he was small, 
probably the smallest I have ever seen, tiny balls in an almost 
non-existent bag, surmounted by a button mushroom of a penis.  
There was almost no shaft, the circumcised head standing out at 
right angles to his body.  I wondered if it would change when 
erect, as it looked like it was constantly ready for action.

It was our Pack's turn for showers that morning, and can you 
guess who had volunteered to supervise at our meeting the 
previous evening?  Wrong!  The mention the night before that the 
twenty boys needed overseeing for their showers had stunned me to 
such an extent that my good friend Arcala, may his dick rot and 
drop off, had taken that particular duty upon himself, thinking 
my hesitation was reluctance.  The grievous pity was that the 
sight would be completely wasted on him, as he was as straight as 
a die.  

Still, the die was cast, so to speak, and I ended up taking 
charge as they filed in for breakfast.  Their wet hair brought 
visions of what I might have seen swimming through my brain, 
until I was distracted to the point of spilling piping hot coffee 
down my front.  I was never sure whether the look that crossed 
David's face as I yelled out was horror that I might not be up to 
more night manoeuvres, or amusement at my predicament, and he 
always refused to tell me exactly what had gone through his mind 
at that instant.  It was all I could do not to strip the hot 
clothing from my body there an then, but before I could act, Ox 
threw the contents of a full jug of iced orange juice into my 
lap.  As I sat there gasping at this rapid switch from excess heat 
to extreme cold, he proudly said 'We learnt that for first aiders 
badge', and thrust his badge covered arm towards me to admire.
'Thanks, Ox, owe you one.' I managed to respond, before retiring 
to the tent to change.

My wounds seemed minor, and I was looking forward to the coming 
night, with all it's possibilities. Looking down at my slightly 
reddened cock, I could hardly believe that it had been enclosed 
for most of it's length by a boy as sweet as David (by any boy to 
be blunt!) . I knew we would have to find somewhere rather more 
private that a tent full of boys if our activities were to 
develop, somewhere we could talk, and with a bit more light, so I 
at least could see more of the lads charms.  First, though, there 
was a full days activities to go through.

The morning was occupied by a talk about building shelters, 
seeing examples of how various cultures constructed temporary 
living quarters.  The lads then had to put together a small hut 
or other construction, using only the materials they could find 
in the adjoining woods, with strict instructions that no wood was 
to be cut!  Even then ecology and a respect for nature were 
strong in the Scouting movement.  Each Six took a leader to give 
assistance and suggestions, but we were to allow the boys to make 
their own plans.  Naturally, David's Red Six co-opted my skills,
and armed with only a few additional bits of string and a sheath
knife in my capable hands, we delved into the woods.  It was
great to see them work as a group, and David was a natural
leader, only asking my assistance where they truly needed it.  In
some ways I think he was showing me how able he was, which was
good to see, as he was indeed organising and planning wonderfully
well.

The other boys responded well to his encouragements and
instructions, showing they had listened well to the Wardens talk.
Each brought different skills to bear, Ox's strength, Alan's
thoughtful additions to David's ideas.  Ivan's agility had him
swinging through the trees above us, bending branches carefully
down to the waiting hands of the others.  Little Steve was the
knot expert, linking the tree limbs together quickly and tightly.
I am not going to say that the structure they eventually created
was fit for the Ideal Home Exhibition, or even that it would have
kept us dry during a storm like the one the previous Saturday,
but it was cleverly constructed and as well thought out as could
be expected.  So it was with pride in their achievements that we
returned to the camp for lunch, on the call of the cooks.

Although the boys were all very grubby, apart from checking they
had washed their hands we allowed them to eat as they were, for
we were returning to the woods to complete the shelters, and
afterwards would head for a dip in the camp pool.  During the
afternoon the boys turned their skills to furnishing the
shelters, building racks from dead branches to hold shoes and
clothes off the ground, broomsticks from twigs, and other 'home
comforts'.  By the time the call to swim was made, all of the
youngsters were plastered with grimy sweat - some people don't
thing young lads sweat, but after a hard days work, they are
definitely covered in something of the sort!

I, who had done little but sit back and watch the activity around
me all day, went back to the tent with them to pick up my camera.
This time I was not going to join them, but act as life-guard,
having taken a course at college.  This was one of the reasons
Arcala had asked specifically myself along, so I was going to
take the duty seriously.  Thankfully it did not stop me from
indulging in my love of photography, and after taking several
rolls, Steve reminded me of my promised study of him.  I
suggested he stayed by the poolside when the others dashed off to
change for tea, and he agreed that that was the best course.
Before I get to that session, let me remind you that this was
some time ago, before the introduction of swimming shorts and
bemudas, and all my merry gang were clad in brief style trunks,
usually of elastine fabric, but sometimes woollen costumes.  The
length of the outside leg varied from a hip revealing half inch,
to a severe three to four inches.  All had the charm of being
close fitting to the groin, and much of the fabric was on the
thin side, so I was in photographic heaven.

Of my group, David was clad in a wisp of red, draw string
dangling delightfully down his inner thigh. Ox wore a severe
black suit, but like all his clothes, he had out-grown it some
time ago, so the fabric strained to maintain it's grasp on his
frame.  Alan had, I think, blue speedos on, but from the front
his bulk hid most of the cloth, which bit into his body, and from
the back the stretched fabric seemed to forget quite what colour
it had in it's normal state.  Ivan cut a dashing figure in yellow
and green vertical stripes, emphasising the length of his limbs.
The last of the gang, Steve, had tied his huge costume of light
blue as tight as he could round his puppy fat tummy, but having
little sign of a waist, every time he dived into the water the
suit attempted to relocate itself somewhere near his knees.  His
only saving was his unusual stick-out pole, which more than once
snagged the top of the costume and prevented further exposure.
This was of little use, for after he had adjusted his clothing,
the legs gaped open at his every step, giving heat stopping
glimpses of the contents.

When the others were departed, David with a wicked wink in my
direction, and yet another of his dammed grins, I began to pose
my young model.  For him and his parents, I took some portraits
of the tousled haired angel, then tried some three-quarter and
full length shots.  Finally, I had him sit on his heels on the
edge of the pool, which made his knees fall slightly apart.  From
several angles I snapped away, careful to include as much of his
intimate charms as were visible.  Finishing, we returned to the
tent, and made ready for tea.  We were the last in, and David was
just leaving to help wash up.  As we passed he pushed a note into
my hand, and skipped out.  When I could without drawing undue
attention, I perused the note.

IN THE SHOWER BLOCK TONIGHT AT ELEVEN

This has had one or two errors removed, but I think you will
understand as I did the import of that message.  Of all the camp
buildings, the shower block and the toilets had their lights on
all night, and the showers should be empty, and had a door on the
changing part with a bolt on the inside!

The next few hours seemed to be an eternity, until eventually,
the boys retired to their beds, swiftly followed by their
leaders.  I could not even begin to imagine sleep, and kept
glancing at the luminous watch by my head.  Somehow I must have
dozed off, for the next time I looked, the time was about five
past!  Pausing to slip on trousers and shirt, (I know, silly
thing to do!) I hot-footed it over to the showers.  The door was
slightly ajar, so I scraped in, closing and bolting it behind me.
I was certain a particular chap had already arrived, as I had
checked that his bunk was empty before I left the tent.

Inside the changing area, sitting on one of the slatted wooden
bunks, was the small figure of my beloved, clad in thin cotton
pj's of light blue cloth.  He was shivering slightly, as there
was a minor chill in the night air, and said as he looked up at
me 'Thought you wer'nt coming.'
The accusation was sincere, and I knew I had hurt his feelings by
my tardiness.  Crossing the space between us, I sat beside him,
and hugged his tender frame to mine.
'For you I would cross the seven seas themselves, but might still
turn up about half an hour late, I'm sorry, am I forgiven?'
(Yes, I know it was a corny thing to say, but I was younger then,
and my chat up lines still owed a lot to cheap romance books,
anyway, David liked it).  He nodded his assent, and put his arms
around me, responding in kind to the gentle massaging I was
giving to his back, neck and head.  My hands felt his delicate
ribs under the thin fabric, and I knew I wanted to gaze upon
their beauty, absorbing the fineness of his build with my eyes.
Even though I had seen him in his little costume earlier in the
day, this was different.  Passing my hands under the edge of his
top, I skinned it from him, to leave slightly pale skin to glow
in the stark light of the showers naked bulb.  It had been a poor
Summer up to then, and no-one had had much exposure to the sun.

He stood up on the bench, hands behind his head, and waited as I
first admired the gentle rising and falling of his chest and
stomach as he breathed in and out,  then, slowly, pulled the
sweet pj bottoms down to his ankles.  There was no sharp thwack
as his fully erect prick slapped against his belly, because it
was only half hard, and hypnotically swung back and forth before
my eyes as it was released from it's covering.  His emerging legs
did not show defined, strong muscles, but were rather the trim
young thighs of a reasonably fit young boy, but in my sight he
was perfection, a living image from some Greek temple, last seen
crook in hand, heard of goats following obediently.  I ran my
hands over this perfection, soft marble beneath my fingers.

As I continued, his erection hardened, poking towards my face,
so I did the only thing I could think of, and drew it's short
length between my lips.  It was hot, pulsing slightly, and I
wrapped my tounge round it's small girth, feeling the silken
length.  His foreskin still partly covered the head, and I pushed
the tip of my tounge into the opening, gently sliding the fold of
skin back, until I could feel the whole of the glans free from
it's covering.  David had ceased his statuesque posing, and was
by this time draping his body over my head, hands entangled in my
hair, trying to force himself against my probing.  I was sliding
my hands from the backs of his knees to the base of is buttocks,
enjoying the feel of his firm flesh, and providing a little
support to his weakening knees!  To offer greater support, and
free up one hand, I hugged his legs to me with one arm, and
started to explore the globes of his buttock, and more
importantly, the valley between them, with my fingers. This
expedition seemed to increase his fervour, when I attempted to
push a finger into the dampening hole I had found.  OK, so my
fingers are a little stubby, and the nails a tad long, but he had
accommodated something a shade (!) bigger the night before, so his
reaction came as a surprise to me.
'Ow!  Stop!'
I inquired as to the problem as he pulled away from me.  Sitting
down to protect his bottom, he told me to undress, then after I
had complied, had me bend over and hold my knees.  Getting behind
me, he thrust his small index finger right up my rectum.  I got
the point, literally.  Dry fingers and unprepared bum holes do
not mix, and size is less important than preparation.  Still, we
were now both in the buff, and ready for anything!  David had
remembered to bring the Vaseline, and lay back on the bench, legs
up and apart, allowing easy access to both his front and back
parts, that having been liberally greased.  I resumed my
ministrations, lapping at the cocklet and tight scrotum, working
my finger deeper into the now happy boy.  He crossed his legs
behind my head, inner thighs acting as the most delightful ear
muffs I have ever worn.  With my free hand I massaged his soft
belly and boney chest, lingering on the penny sized nipples.
Each time I touched them, he giggled, tightening his sphincter on
my probing finger, and slammed his legs against my ears.  It was
wonderful to feel, but I was slowly going deaf!

He loosened his leg hold on my battered head, and suggested a
change in our positions, with me crouching over his prone body,
head to tail, and as by now my situation was enlarging, I jumped
at the idea. Never releasing his dainty parts, or removing my
finger from what I now wanted to be it's second home, I swivelled
round.  He sent electric shocks through my body by breathing
softly on that tender part of me now suspended over his angelic
face,  then drew me into his velvet embrace.  A small tounge
lapped over the sensitive tip, and I felt his sharp teeth on my
shaft (Please, don't let him sneeze!).  Before I was aware of it
myself, and with no time to warn the prostrate lad, I ejaculated
into the welcoming cave of his mouth.  I thought he was mad at me
as he pulled himself out from under me, my finger popping from
his hole, but instead he grinned, lips together, then open
mouthed, to show me my juices stickily coating it's inner surface.
We drew together, and I kissed him, this time with an open mouth,
sharing the mixed taste of his saliva and my sperm.  Pulling away
again, I saw him lick round the inside of his cheeks, then
swallow the contents of his mouth.  I ran my own tounge over my
teeth, tasting again that vibrant mixture.
'You sure cum quick!' David commented, 'You need more practice!'

Now, although I had come to climax way before I was ready, I do
have one trick that not everyone can copy.  So I may not shoot
the biggest load in the world, and my size in not more than
average, after I come, as long as I still feel energetic, I
retain my erection.  After a good work-out, I can even have a
second climax, and on one occasion have managed a third, but I
was truly shattered after that episode, and can not recommend it
as a regular exercise, unless you have the stamina and heart of a
rhino.  So I was able to respond to my derisory little lover that
if he thought I needed to practice more, he had better sit down
on my still active organ and give it a good lesson!  This was to
his liking, so after he had spent a minute or two lubrication the
beast (never need to be told twice, I don't), I lay back and my
friend positioned himself over me.  Like a reverse rocket launch
where the sky dropped to cover the rocket, we counted him down
(you start with ten, nine, touch-hole, seven, in, six, five,
rest, three, two, stop!).  As before, he could only accommodate
about two thirds of my length, but that hot hole was a delight
however much was in.  The feeling of closeness at that moment
transcends any other, as we were almost part of the same being.
He began to bounce up and down, his tight sphincter a ring of
pleasure along my shaft.  Reaching forward I fondled his penis
and balls, probing occasionally to where our bodies joined,
touching the expanded edge of his anus, and the top of my shaft.
As time went on, a minute changing to five, five to ten, then
ten to fifteen, I broke into a sweat, and David's breathing
became rapid and shallow.  Suddenly he convulsed, throwing his
head back, bottom pushing downwards, groin pressing hard against
me hands, rock hard cocklet spurting the few drops of his fluid
through my fingers to spatter half way up my chest.  This
naturally had quite an effect on me, particularly as his bottom
was rapidly clenching and releasing my stiff member.   I fired a
second time that evening into David, this time filling (OK,
slightly filling) that loving cavern.

He fell forward onto my chest, smearing his love offering between
our bodies (damn, I had wanted to taste that!).  My exhausted rod
snaked from between his bonny buttocks, and slapped wetly on my
leg.  We lay in harmony, regathering our strengths, until the
chill of the night caught us, and it was time to leave.  The
shower block had been an ideal choice, as before leaving we were
able to clean the vapours of our endeavours from each other.  David
insisted on cleaning my delicate parts by 'hand' so as to speak,
although hands did not make much of an appearance.  To respond, I
ensured his nether regions had equal attentions, and both of us
were well pleased.  Redressing, we kissed long and tenderly, and
just before returning to the tent, David whispered gently in my
ear 'I love you, I've loved you since I first saw you last year
when you were in the park taking photos of a football match.  I
love you for coming on the camp, and for comming in me!'

My head reeled, this was only Monday night, there were four more
nights before the end of camp, then what possibilities might the
rest of the Summer holidays hold?

We slipped back into the tent, checked the sleeping youngsters
around us, and fell back into our own beds for a good nights
sleep.


                     ****** Cub Scout Camp Chapter 4 *******

Tuesday morning dawned, and I nearly missed waking the boys up, 
probably because of all these late nights I seem to be having!  
What made it worse was that it was my bright-eyed and bushy-
tailed (yes, I did sneak a look, and yes, it was bushy, such is 
the recovery rate of the young) co-conspirator who woke me up.  
On the other hand, being woken by his gentle whispering in my ear 
has to be one of the ways I would most like to be awakened (we 
might look at other favourites later).  I struggled up, finally 
remembering that the Pack was being taken for a long hike that 
day by the Wardens, and Akela and I could call off if we wanted.  
This was not all altruistic by the camp staff, as they had 
decided, after inspecting the shelters that the boys had made the 
day before, that the Sixes could sleep overnight in them.  Thus 
it would be up to us two mugs to split the night into shifts, 
patrolling between the four sites.  Giving us the day off was a 
hint that we prepare ourselves for a busy night.

After breakfast I watched the delightful sight of twenty boys in 
Cub uniform line up in twos, and march off into the distance, 
little bottoms swinging away.  I was disappointed in a way not to 
be going, but I decidedly needed the rest!  Going back to my 
tent, I gazed over the sadly empty sleeping bags, and promptly 
dropped off.

By the time they returned in the mid-afternoon, I had regained 
consciousness, and was ready to look after their before tea swim.  
As they marched back onto the field, I could hear the high voices 
singing a trail song (sorry, the words have slipped my mind), and 
I was surprised to find that little Steve was leading the 
singing.  His clear voice was distinct among this compatriots, 
and it was obvious that he was no novice in the vocal arts.  
Akela lent over as he saw the notice I was taking of the singing, 
and commented 'You can see why he leads the church choir, can't 
you.'  I nodded my agreement, and suggested that we get the lad 
to sing a few songs that evening at the camp fire.

Soon, the walk weary boys found a new lease of energy, as they 
donned their swim-suits and raced to the pool. I snapped a couple 
of shots as the leaders of the group reached the edge, and with 
hardly a pause dived or leapt in.  One of those shots now has a 
place of honour on my entrance hall wall.  It shows David, a 
perfect arrow, lifting off from the side of the pool, beside him 
is Ox, knees bent up under him, holding tight to his nose, toes 
just entering the water, and on the other side of David, a lad 
whose name I no longer recall up to his chest in the water, a 
crown of spray blossoming upwards around him.  Several of the 
others can be seen in the background, but as out of focus blurs.  
That photograph won me the action section competition in my local 
camera club, and made a close second in the regional finals. I 
also got an inordinate number of requests for reprints after it 
appeared in the local paper, some from single gentlemen from 
quite a distance away (yes, I did check on one or two of the 
requests, and my inquiries produced a few interesting results!).

I was lounging back, taking in the gorgeous view of so many 
active young bodies, when from the diving board came a high 
pitched scream.  The boys had been jumping or diving from the 
board, which was only a couple of feet above the water, for some 
time, under the strict orders not to jump until the way was 
clear.  They had been very sensible about this, possibly 
encouraged by my warning that if they messed about in the deep 
end then the diving would be stopped.  My head snapped round to 
take in the scene, and everything went into slow motion.  Steve 
had evidently slipped as he came down on his first bounce, and I 
saw him spinning upwards, arms and legs flailing.  As he came 
down, his hip caught the side of the board, and by a fluke the 
large trunks slid over the corner, pivoting him against the 
underside with a jarring impact before he fell backwards into the 
water.  Impelled by the sight of a possible tradegy occurring in 
front of my eyes, I was diving out and over the water towards him 
even before the lad vanished from sight.  I came up beside him as 
he surfaced, screaming and struggling, something that is always 
good to hear from any casualty - at least he was alive and 
conscious.  I gripped him to me, talking to calm his initial 
shock, and brought us to the pool-side.  His gasping breaths were 
more from shock that water inhalation, and with Ox's help, I 
boosted him out of the water.

The boy lay on the cool tiles, crying inbetween shuddering 
breaths as I examined him for breaks and other injuries.  The 
other boys gathered round, some trying to give sympathy to their 
hurt friend, others just to gawp.  After a few moments, I was 
satisfied there were no major injuries (OK, now we would have him 
packed off to hospital for full X-rays and observation, but this 
was, as I have repeatedly said, some time ago), except for a 
triangular red mark on his right hip, where there was going to be 
a full blown bruise.  I sent Ivan and Alan off to the cook-house 
to beg a large bag of crushed ice, and set to soothing the still 
shocked little boy.  As his two friends returned with the ice, we 
inspected the damage to his trunks.  The right side had been torn 
out, leaving all his buttock and groin in sight, and was 
obviously beyond mortal repair.  This seemed to upset him more 
that his hurt, as he thought that that was the end of his 
swimming.  He sat, depressed, between David and myself, watching 
the others splashing happily as the ice melted at his hip.  My 
beloved looked thoughtful for a while, as the two boys whispered 
to each other, my attention being more given to the activity in 
the pool - I had no intention of having a second accident!

A while latter, Steve seemed to cheer up somewhat, and young 
David skipped off.  I saw him first talking to the others in the 
Six, then speak to Akela.  Moments later, Akela was asking me to 
call all the boys out of the pool, and arranging them as for a 
Pack meeting.
'It seems that Steve here has torn his trunks too badly to use, 
and won't be able to swim any more.  His Six have got together, 
and decided that if he can't swim because he has no costume, they 
won't either, but they have asked me if they can help Steve 
another way.  They say that, if I agree to let them, they will 
all swim, with Steve, but without their costumes so he will not 
be alone.  I think this is very brave of them, and have agreed, 
and have called this meeting to tell you why they will be 
swimming without their costumes, and to ask you to respect their 
decision.'
The other Sixes looked stunned, and Red Six stood, some of them 
reddening slightly, not looking directly at any of the others in 
the Pack.  The Blue Sixer stepped forward, and asked if he could 
support them by swimming naked too, and turned to ask his Six if 
they would follow him.  All did, and as Akela nodded his 
agreement, Yellow Six followed.  Although some of Mark's Six 
looked to him as if expecting him to do the same, the boy just 
shook his head slightly and scowled at the rest of the Pack.  In 
jubilation the sixteen new naturists, including Steve, whose 
bruised hip suddenly seemed to be of no consequence to him, 
stripped off their coverings, and as a mob, charged for the pool.

I swallowed hard, watching the totally visible boys, larking as 
before, but now with an occasional grab for a swinging member.  
There was every combination under the sun before my eyes, long, 
short, thin, fat, cut and uncut - the uncut being in the vast 
majority, as at the time circumcision was confined mainly to the 
Jewish faith, or done for some medical reason, as was probably 
the case for Steve.  It was Akela who suggested I take some 
photos to immortalise this solidarity among the lads.  My camera 
was lying forgotten by the poolside, and I probably would not 
have had the courage to take any except for my friends 
encouragement.  On the whole, I stayed with groups, including at 
least one of the adult leaders in as many frames as possible (to 
show official sanctioning of the exercise), as this was one of my 
few colour rolls, and would have to be developed commercially.  
However, I did manage to snatch a study of David, poised artfully 
on the edge of the pool, the toes of the foot farthest from me 
curled over the tiles, other foot slightly behind.  His near arm 
was at his side, held back at the elbow by his other arm 
threading behind his back.  The gentle curve from his chest down 
to his groin emphasised his grace, and his sweet cock resting 
down on his soft ball sack showed his perfect sex.  This photo is 
behind the door of my toilet, and you would be surprised at the 
number of my so called straight male friends come out of there 
showing an obvious effect in their groins.  Female friends, oddly 
enough, often ask who that delicious boy in the photo is, and 
comment that he looks good enough to eat, in that hungry, 
feminine way that has just a hint of predator about it.

While we are here, I suppose I had better describe the chief 
characters by their now visible distinguishing features.  Both 
David and Steve's specifics have been described in earlier 
chapters, so if you missed those, too bad.  Ox was, as might be 
expected, in proportion to the rest of his body.  In fact, in 
it's dormant state, he looked at least my equal in build, and the 
thought of what he would be like at puberty did not bear thinking 
about! (When he reached fifteen, he actually came to me for some 
advice, as each time he tried it on with a girlfriend, he would 
be getting on fine until it came to action stations, then the 
girls would always chicken out as soon as they saw his full 
equipment!).  At this stage though, although his cock was the 
largest in the pool, and his scrotum on of the best filled, he 
was still hairless and attractive.  Ivan's pole never seemed to 
drop below half mast, and being long but very slender, like his 
arms and legs, was a magnet for many of the other boys playful 
graspings.  His darker skin shaded to only a slightly lighter 
colour where his underpants or shorts normally covered him from 
the sunlight, and between his legs twin marbles swung in a bag 
that held far from his groin.  Lastly Alan, who, I am sorry to 
tell, might as well have kept his costume on, for the thickness 
of his thighs and distended stomach covered his jewels as well as 
any cloth did.  I was only able to catch the odd glimpse of 
penis, and guessed it's length as that of my little finger, 
though covered in a thick roll of what must have been fat!  I 
wondered if the boy had ever actually seen his own equipment, 
except perhaps in a mirror.

As the swim neared it's end, I realised that the original 
naturists had been joined by all but Mark and his Second.  The 
deputy of the Greens seemed to be slightly embarrassed at 
maintaining his clothed state, but unwilling to go against the 
wishes of his leader.  Mark had ceased swimming some time before, 
and was now sitting on the bench by the pool, scowling and 
glaring at his traitorous Six.

That night, the limping Steve sang to the gathered Packs, sweet 
voice clear in the dusk.  We finished with him leading in a 
couple of camp fire tunes that the whole Camp joined in, until 
the time came for the other Packs to return to their tents, and 
our boys to trek out to their shelters in the woods.  I was 
taking the first watch, so Akela bid me goodnight, and left me to 
circulate among the tired boys.  David nodded his head towards 
the shower block, and I smiled, knowing what the night ahead 
held.  I made sure the lads were snug in their sleeping bags, and 
beginning to settle.  By the time I made my third round at about 
ten thirty, all the boys appeared to have dropped into the land 
of sleep, and I headed over to see if David was still awake.  
When I got to the Red's shelter, I found they had discovered a 
novel was of combating the cool night air.  Instead of five 
separate beds, they had zipped three together, put the other two 
beneath them, and were peacefully asleep, spooned together in 
order of size.  It was a delightful picture, and I took a shot, 
hopeful that the flash would no more disturb them than a few 
nights previously.  Even David seemed to be away for the night, 
and unwilling to pull him from the centre of he mass, I kissed 
his forehead softly, and stole away to the cook-house to make 
myself a cup of hot coffee.

Just as I was about to head off on another tour, the tousled head 
of my David popped round the door, and asked if I was coming or 
not.  I apologised to him, explaining that I had thought he was 
sleeping, but he just grabbed my hand and urged me to hurry over 
to the showers.  I got the impression that he wanted us to start 
making love urgently, and although I knew how passionate he could 
get, this did seem a little abrupt.  But when he pulled me 
through the door, sliding the bolt into place behind us, I 
received the shock of my life!  Not only were we not alone, we 
were in the company of the whole of Red Six!
'What's going on?' I enquired, rather shaken by this turn of 
events. My jaw fell open, as David, in an exasperated tone, 
informed me that all the boys were waiting for me to suck them 
off.  Seeing my mounting shock, he explained that they had been 
fooling around as a Six since they started Cubs, first with the 
Sixer at the time, then with each new member as they joined.  I 
was now an honorary Red, and as such, not only David's boyfriend, 
fully expected to join in with the Sixes nocturnal activities.  

As I sat, trying to let this unexpected but not unwelcome 
information sink in, Ox pulled down his PJ bottoms, and claimed 
first position.  I had been right that afternoon in estimating 
his proportions, the prick now expanding under the ministrations 
of his hand gained size to at least match my own, and the sight 
of the large but hairless snake swinging before my eyes, awaiting 
it's inclusion in my mouth was a wonderful thing.  I licked 
tentatively at the head, glancing upwards to see this large boys 
reaction.  He threw back his head and groaned slightly, in the 
form of a drawn out yes.  He placed his hands on my head, and 
pulled me forward, and I drew his organ into my mouth.  It was an 
unusual feeling for me, for except from some early childhood 
experimentation, I had only ever feliated David's much smaller 
boyhood, and Ox almost made me gag as he thrust as much of 
himself into me as he could.  Even so, I found it impossible to 
reach his testicles with me tounge, as I could with David.  
Between the boys spread legs appeared Steve, crouching beneath 
the bigger boy, and I saw his lips reach up and nibble at the 
suspended ball sack.  Looking down I could see his mushroom cock, 
still hardly bigger than the end of my thumb, as he joined me in 
pleasuring his friend.  I reached a hand behind Ox, to massage 
his buttocks, but he pushed my hands away.  Alan whispered beside 
me that Ox loved his cock sucked, but didn't like anyone touching 
his bottom (butt would have been what an American child would 
have said, but by now you have probably guessed, these are not 
American boys).  I resumed work on that ridiculously large organ, 
wrapping several fingers around it's base where my lips could not 
reach.  Occasionally I felt soft lips and tiny teeth brush 
against me hand, as the little boy worked like a pro on the 
burgeoning sack.  Suddenly, just as I felt his prick begin to 
pulse towards release, Ox pulled from me, and called 'Steve!'.  
The smaller boy responded by swinging upwards, and dropping his 
mouth over the long rod.  Somehow he swallowed in it's entire 
length, a feat well beyond me, and I could see a slight bulging 
at the top of his throat.  Ox pushed harder into Steve's face, 
then the tension fled from is body, and he slumped, still 
standing, but spent.

Steve whispered with the exhausted Ox, giggling to each other, as 
I worked on Ivan.  He was delicate and fine compared with the 
first lad, and I had no trouble managing the occasional lick 
around his swinging balls.  His longer length than David did 
touch at the back of my throat several times, and I was not 
finding it too pleasant, until, on one thrust, I gulped at the 
glans.  He gasped as he passed into my throat, and apart from it 
being something I had not experienced before, found it 
pleasurable and exciting.  This must have been what Steve had 
done with Ox, and although I balked at the thought of such a 
large thing being thrust past my tonsils, I felt that it might be 
worth trying sometime in the future.  The heat of my epiglotis on 
his member must have been good for Ivan too, as he then stared to 
thrust more energetically inside me.  I responded by matching his 
inward thrust with my swallows, and probed between his thin 
buttocks for the small opening I knew I would find there.  
Another finger, slippy with Vaseline, brushed against mine, 
coating it with the cool lubricant. Glancing round the slim hips, 
I saw David's grinning face, and felt his hand guide my finger to 
it's target.  I pushed carefully in, and as I finished embedding 
the digit in his rear, and slowly started to rotate it back and 
forth, the impaled boy shuddered, and I tasted a drop of salty 
sweet liquid blossom in my mouth.
Laying him aside, I turned to the waiting Alan.  With him 
standing before me, it became a challenge to get my mouth close 
enough to blow him, while not being suffocated by his drooping 
flesh.  After several tries, I had him lie back on the bench, 
legs hung over the edge, knees as far apart as possible.  This 
gave the best possible access to the poor boys genitals, and I 
managed to relive him in short order. (The others were spectating 
this spectacle, and seemed to think this position far superior to 
others they had tried with the obese lad.  Usually one of them 
would lift the excess flab up, while another sucked him off).
The only two left to go were Steve and David, and the little 
boylet presented himself to me.  I sat on the floor to position 
myself at the appropriate height, Steve already beginning to jump 
up and down in anticipation, shaking with excitement.  To my 
surprise, Ox positioned himself behind the small figure, and 
placed a hand over the small mouth. 
'He sings when you do him, all the time and very loud.  We put a 
neckerchief over his mouth normally, but we forgot it.' David 
explained.  I was not sure what they meant, but I was happy to 
avoid undue noise, so started work on the silenced boy. (Some day 
I will tell of the time we didn't need to keep quiet, and what 
happened that occasion, but I digress).  The lad still had not 
apparently come any more erect than usual, but I slipped my lips 
over the small glans, and just managed to clamp them on the tiny 
length of shaft.  His belly pressed against my nose, and while 
the outside of my lips were touched by the skin around his 
mushroom, the inside touched the bottom of his small head.  With 
so little inside my mouth, I was at a lost as to quite what to 
do.  Starting by running my tounge in little circles over the tip 
of his cock, I then sucked in my cheeks, hoping a little vacuum 
would expand the playing area. Nothing much developed down where 
I was, but the boy started to dance up and down on the spot, arms 
flapping at his sides, muffled squeekings from behind the fingers 
of Ox.  The others started giving encouraging words, it seemed I 
was doing something right, and so I improvised further, curling 
my tounge into a tube, and pushing it backwards and forwards 
along the short length.  If his earlier reactions had been 
enthusiastic, the child now went absolutely wild, bucking his 
groin against my mouth as rapidly and lustfully as a buck rabbit 
fucking his first doe of the season. As his hips pushed forward, 
I opened my mouth wide, and sucked in the point of his groin, on 
which his pea like balls rested.  There was little or no movement 
in them as I rolled my tounge over the little lumps, but it felt 
like heaven, having that small boy buck against me, young skin 
like hot silk. He was bent over almost backwards, straining to 
get more of his body in the cavern of my mouth, when he stiffened 
once, twice, three times, and collapsed into his larger friends 
arms.
'Whew, he's much better than you lot!' declared the tiny figure.

I turned to the boy who was and always will be my favourite, and 
indicated that it was his turn, but he shook his head, and said 
that we would have fun after the others left, but that they had a 
gift for me first.  I looked at the boys, quizzical, wondering if 
they were going to do a mass reciprocation, and if I would be up 
to David's demands if they did!  But instead they gathered round 
me, pushed me prone, and started to undress me.  The feeling of 
being undressed by four eager boys defies description, (so you 
will have to use your imaginations), but after they had me naked, 
my appreciation clear by the hello my erect prick was waving at 
them, they moved back.  Ivan picked up the jar of Vaseline form 
the floor, took a large blob, and started to grease the head and 
length of my sex.  It responded by visibly swelling, standing 
solid and upright.  Ox lifted little Steve under his arms, 
holding him face towards me at his chest, the small boy's legs 
pulled up to show me the rose of his anus nestled between the 
curves of his buttocks.  The realisation of what they were 
planing then dawned on me, and I started to rise in protest.  If 
they tried what I thought was in their minds, I was going to 
split the boy in two!

Ivan and Alan both pushed down on my shoulders, shushing me to 
quit making a fuss.  As Ox lowered the boy's gift to my prone 
form, David pointed my cock, looking impossibly large against the 
approaching frame, at it's target, and our flesh met.  Steve sat 
poised on top of my rod, and it seemed we were going no further, 
then, as if someone had spoken a magic word, the gates of his 
bottom opened, and my member slid into the hot depths of his 
rectum.  Somehow almost half of my cock penetrated him in a 
single movement, then the boy stopped, feet resting on my sides. 
supporting his almost negligible weight. His eyes were closed, 
not tightly as would be the case if he was in pain, but in an 
almost angelic way, slight smile on his lips.  His belly rose and 
fell gently, and I felt the soothing movement down my shaft.  
There was a rumbling from his intestine, and this angelic kid 
opened his mouth to let out the loudest and longest burp I have 
ever heard.  As the air slipped from his bowels, he slid slowly 
down my cock, until his buttocks rested in the hollows of my 
thighs, and the hard ridge where his balls resided pushed at the 
bottom of my belly.  Talk about the Pneumatic Boy, this was the 
real thing!
'Who do you think showed me how to do it?' David asked, 'All we 
used to do before Stevie joined us was use our fingers on each 
others penises!'
There was no answer I could give, as Ox resumed his gagging 
position, and my small catamite began twisting and jerking his 
hips and body, creating a turmoil of pleasure throughout each and 
every one of my nerves. It was a never ending sequence of random 
movements, pulling up until my cock almost spilled from his 
incredible body one moment, small twisting motions with me firmly 
in place again the next.  He tightened and released the grip of 
his sphincter like it was a third hand wrapped snugly around me.  
Naturally this could not last long, and I strained upwards, 
depositing what for me seemed a lot into the hot boy.  He didn't 
stop, however, but continued his thrashings on my still solid 
prick.  The other boys checked between our bodies, slightly taken 
aback that the two of us were still continuing.  David declared 
proudly 'Told you he could do it more than once!'
Alan timed us from then, and it was nearly ten minutes later that 
Stevie threw his head back, all his muscles clenching, and with 
his climax, I reached my second, sending a small packet of sperm 
high into his rectum.  He fell forward on my chest, and the semi 
hard length of my erection slipped out from him.

I was spent, with no energy to give to my beloved David, and 
thankfully he was not upset.  Ivan helped him to his peak, while 
I lay with the smallest Cub comfortably on my chest.  The boy too 
was exhausted, and stayed still as I examined his back passage.  
It had sprung back to almost its original size, and apart from a 
coating of grease, looked as I imagine it always had.  There were 
a few lines of spunk, that had joined us as we had parted, but 
other than that the liquid I had passed to him must still have 
been wriggling away deep in his bottom.

All sated, we dressed, cleaning up as we did so, the returned to 
the shelter, pausing only for Steve to quickly visit the toilets.  
I bedded the boys down, kissed each on the cheek, and returned to 
my rounds.


             ***** Cub Scout Camp Chapter 5 *******

Half way through the week, three more nights to go, and here I 
was shattered from beibg awake half the night. (Mostly doing the 
shelter rounds, the other nocternal activities had, apparently, 
only taken just over the hour).  But the night in the open air 
must have agreed with the Cubs, for when Akela and I went round 
at about eight to wake them up for breakfast, we found the whole 
Pack still soundly asleep.  Even Akela, the straightest chap you 
could meet found the sight touching, and we decided to let the 
boys have a mid-week lie in.  He even had me take pictures, to 
show the parents just how well looked after and contented their 
sons were at camp.  I found my Red Six most apealiing, still in 
their single sleeping bag, stacked like cutelry in it's drawer.

The next day was to be the inter-Pack sports and skills day, so 
for the morning, after finally rousing the well rested boys, we 
held an internal practice.  It would have been easy to select the 
few best boys at each event, but that would have left over half 
our youngsters will nothing to do but spectate.  As you might 
have gathered, this is not in the highest tradition of Scouting, 
so it was up to Akela and myself to find an appropriate niche in 
which each of our charges could shine.  For most of them the 
choice was easy, such as Ox and Ivan taking the assult course and 
wheel-barrow race.  With the big lad's strength, and Ivan's long, 
supple limbs, they looked sure of victory the following day.  
Others were harder to place, and Stevie (yes, I know, using a 
diminutive form of his name might seem a bit cute, but by God the 
lad was cute, and I thought it suited him better than just plain 
Steve), was a problem.  If only there had been an event 
comparable with the ones we had experienced the night before, he 
would have romped home, but I thought that might be a bit too 
advanced for most of the leaders!  As it was, he had only been in 
the Pack a few months, and so his Scouting skills were not the 
greatest, and being so very small, there was no way he could 
compete in most of the sports effectivly.  Alan, on the other 
hand, although not suited to athletic activities, was great at 
plant and tree recognition, so found his team place as the nature 
expert.

It was fairly late in the morning when I realised we were short a 
lad to play Kim's game (if you don't know this game, read 
Kippling's Kim, well worth the read anyhow), and thought to ask 
our smallest Cub how good his memory was.  At first he was not 
sure what I meant, so Akela and I put the contents of our pockets 
on the ground, and asked the lad to look at them for about twenty 
seconds, then close his eyes.  We removed several objects, and he 
looked again.  To our surprise, he was able to identify and 
accuratly describe all of those we had hidden.  Several tests 
later, and it was evident that the lad had some sort of 
photographic memory, and we had our Kim's game player! He was 
immesly proud of this, particularly when Akela called him the 
Pack's secret weapon.

After lunch, the novelty of the nights sleeping arrangements 
combined with the activity of the morning struck home at the 
youngsters, so yet another afternoon py the pool was organised, 
less for swimming this time and more for quietly snoozing in the 
warm sun.  We sent them to their tents to pick up what they would 
need for the next few hours in the way of books and towels, and 
found that the ideas of the day before had carried over.  Of all 
the lads coming towards us, hands full of books, comics and 
little radios, towels drapped over thin arms or shoulders, only 
Mark was wearing trunks.  Even his Second had reverted to the 
buff, moving slightly self-conciously accross the grass, the 
breeze gentle against his naked groin for the first time in his 
life.  Akela commented dryly to me that perhaps we ought to nip 
into town and buy Stevie a costume before the next days sporting 
events, as the sight of our chaps swimming races bare might be 
construed as a distraction by the other competitors!  Much as I 
was happy to maintain the status quo, I suggested that I might 
run him in just before tea and perform that duty.  It would be a 
shame to hide such a wonderful sight, but at least I could help 
choise the new covering!

It was a delightful afternoon, and I thought at several stages 
that I must have died in the night and gone to heaven, for all 
around me were the sweetest cheribum (bum being a opperative word 
here).  Small boys sitting cross-legged, a game of chess in 
progress between them, others resting on their elbows to read 
comix, knees far apart and bent, leaving feet to hang gently 
swaying over velvety smooth buttocks, heals occasionally tapping 
at the soft surface.  Some lay back in the sun, eyes sheilded by 
a forearm across thier face, boyhoods sometimes stiffening as 
pleasurable dreams drifted through their young and sleepy heads.

The thought struck me as a particularly active dreamer mumbled in 
his sleep , and turned over, hiding the hard little boy cock 
under him.  The white glare from his bottom clicked over what had 
been in the back of my mind for some time.  All about the edges 
of the pool were young bodies, skins tanned to a reasonable 
degree by the wearing of shorts over the past summer term, but 
appart from two exceptions, and from the gostly white of their 
mid-sections, this was the first long term exposure to sunlight 
that their little backsides had ever seen.  My thought was *SUN-
BURN*!  It was far too late to take any preventative measures, 
but Akela had them all jump in the pool to cool off, then we took 
them back to the tents for an application of camomile lotion.
'There's a bottle in the tent's first aid kit,' my friend hissed 
at me as we sheepherded our respective groups back to shade, 'and 
don't let them put it on themselves, they always use too much!'

I'm not one to turn down a gift horse, and soon I had the ten 
boys lined upp in front of me, towels wrapped round them to keep 
their hot bodies warm until they could dress again.  It was a 
pity that I only had ten, and Akela the full eleven, but Mark had 
been protected by his costume, and now sat smugg outside, waiting 
for the others treatment to finish.  I had each boy turn his 
backside towards me, and I rubbed the ointment into the soft 
mounds of each one in turn, moving slowly down the line.  David 
and Stevie both got a little extra attention as I was doing this, 
and I swear I was just making sure the hot rays of the sun had 
not reached the place the sun does not normally shine!  I was 
careful with Ox, knowing his dislike for bottom touching, but 
although he tensed up slightly, he let me do a professional job 
to his rear.

Returning to the start of the line, I had each boy turn

to face me befor applying the lotion to their more responsive 
parts.  Ensuring the liquid was fully absorbed into each boy's 
potentially burnt privates was an arduous task, and did on no 
occasion result in a growth of those parts and a look of delight 
fliting over each recipients face. (Much!).  I was careful in my 
positioning to prevent the others from seeing what happened as 
aech of their compatriots were administered to, and as I finished 
with a boy, I had him wrap his towel around his waist, and dress 
by his bed.  As I worked, some of those I had sent to reclothe 
tried to peek round at the subject of my ministrations, but I 
smiled in their direction, and shook my head, indicating they 
were not to embarrase their friends.  The miscrent usually shot 
back a shy grin in a reddening face, they knew what had happened 
with them was happening to their fellows.  Don't think that I 
brought any of them to a finish, there was no time for that, but 
the effect was very nice to see and feel.

My own Red Six were less worried by the experience, Alan and Ivan 
(whom I thought was unlikely to bun anyhow, but who still 
presented hinself) both covered their errections until they were 
pulling on their pants, (underpants, not trousers, translation 
for our American readers), David just turned his hard-on to the 
on-lookers, making sure all who wanted got a good, long look, and 
Ox never even came erect.  He explained afterwards that he had to 
be in the mood, otherwise nothing short of extreme effort would 
raise his bridge.  Stevie was the other surprise, in that his 
tan, a deeper brown than the other boys, was of the all over 
variaty.  i massaged the probably redundant cream where my lips 
had been the day before, relishing in the slippery hard knob 
between my fingers, wondering how he came by that even brown 
coat.  I commented on the fact, complementing hin=m on it, and 
asked how such an effect was achived.  He just shrugged, and 
replied that he never wore clothes at home, and thats why all his 
things were bought so large, as he may not were things very 
often.  This was stunning news, and as the other boys, except for 
David had now left for thier tea, I probed futher, to discover if 
it was his whole family.  Turns out he was the only child of a 
liberal couple, who, although they were not naturists themselves, 
had never seen fit to insist he dress around the house or garden.  
David chipped in with the comment that the lads family were very 
wealthy, and had a large house with a walled garden, not 
overlooked by any others.  He had visited occasionally, and had 
found that he too could go naked there. 'Never do it at home, my 
mum would go spare, and the neighbours could all see me!' was his 
final comment, before we all left the tent to stroll together 
over to the cook-house.

Akela intercepted us, and reminded me that I was to take my small 
charge into town.  David asked if he could accompany us, and the 
two boys were dispatched back to the tent to change into uniform.  
We were to take the van, and could pick up a bite to eat in one 
of the cafes after kitting young Stevie out.  The lads sang as we 
bombed along the narrow lanes, clear of the jams you now find 
everywhere, until I parked in the high street (just try doing 
that today!), slightly down from a school outfitters. (Again for 
some of you out there, a shool outfitters was a specialist shop 
dealing in school uniforms and other uniform clothing for the 
local district.  They are now almost extinct, but worth browsing 
round if you can find one.  They are also very respectable, and 
believe children are younger than they are!).  The bell rang as 
we pushed through the door, to be greeted by a tall, greying 
gentleman in tail suit.  Smooth voice direct from the nineteen-
twenties enqurired as to our requirements, and I indicated that 
'the young chap needs a pair of trunks'.  The tall figure ran a 
practiced eye over the small frame, and pulled a few packets from 
beneth the counter.  The front of each showed a photograph of a 
boy clad in the contents, hands merrily on hips (now there was a 
job I would enjoy!).  The normal styles were there, and as I had 
hoped, Stevie immediatly started to finger the one with the 
narrowest hip band. He looked at the shop-keeper, then at me, and 
asked plaintivly if he could have a pair that fitted him.  I 
explained that his mother usually bought a few sizes large, but 
as this was a replacement pair for some that had been damaged, I 
could not see why we could no aquiess.  The older man smiled 
indulgently down at my small companion, and, taking the white 
trunks from their packet, told him to try them on.  The boy took 
the proffered cloth, looked round for a changing room, and 
finding none in immediate sight looked back at the man 
inquiringly.
'Go on lad, slip them on, lets see how you look,' the man 
encorraged, then turned to look at me and say 'They get more 
precocious every day, don't they Sir?'
I  nodded my agreement, and the boy turned his attention to his 
shorts, undoing them, slipping to his ankles, rapidly joined by 
his undergarment.  He stepped into the trunks, and pulled them up 
tight, lifting his green Cub jumper to show the effect.  Both the 
suited man and I agreed that they were a perfect fit, and looked 
just right on him.  I paid up as Stevie changed back, noticing 
that the chap was keeping a wether eye on the half clad 
youngster.  It was clear that he had found employment that fitted 
him as well as the costume fitted Steve!

We had our tea of cakes and coffee, juice for the boys, then 
headed back to the camp.  Young Stevie was elated by his 
purchase, and I realised how much well fitting clothing really 
meant to this boy who habitually, and by choice, was naked.  
Perhaps, If he had less ridiculous clothes to wear, he might be 
less inclined to the naturists way.  We rolled into camp just as 
the evening meeting was called, and hurried to join with the 
others.  I failed to relieve the boy of his package though, and 
he evenually had to be pulled up for not paying attention, and 
constanly showing the new trunks to his friends.  After 
everything was finished, I walked over to the tent to settle the 
boys into their beds.  Red Six crowded round me as we walked, and 
David and Stevie arranged to sneak over to the showers later on.  
The others bowed out, Ox not being in the mood, and Alan and Ivan 
wanting to catch up on some sleep.  Still, it would be a nice 
intimate evening, and the three of us could get to know more 
about each other nice and slowly.

The other leaders and myself talked about the next days 
competition for some while, warnings of potential trouncings 
jokingly being bounced around.  When I returned to the tent, I 
thought all the lads were asleep, but as I stepped into it's 
warmth, the little siluette of Stevie rose, move to where David 
slept, and shook him gently.  The three of us gathered together a 
towel and the few other things we might need, and vanished into 
the night.

The shower room was still warm from the hot water used by one of 
the other Packs earlier that evening, and we stripped off 
together.  I pulled my two companions to me, crouching down so 
our heads were close, and ran my hands over their silken flanks.  
We hugged, and I felt small hands brush over me in reciprocation 
of my movements.  David's hand and mine met on Stevie's back, and 
we locked fingers, joined palms, big and small, running over the 
lightly covered little boy's back-bone.  Feeling more joined by 
this shared massage, I linked my hand with Steve's, and repeated 
the brushing over David.  We continued, chests pressed close, 
until my two companions began to giggle.
'What's up?' I enquired.
'We've been trying to hold hands on your back, like you've done 
with us.'  David replied.
'But we can't reach!' finished Steve.
Laughing, I lifted the boys in my arms, and spun round on the 
spot.  This closeness, this wonderful free playing, was shere 
bliss.  Sex is good, a bit of happy rough and tumble should be 
enjoyed by everyone, but there was something about these two, 
some spark that there would never be with the rest of the Six.  
Coming to a halt, I looked at the faces slightly above mine, and 
quietly stated 'I love you two.'
They looked down at me, then nestled closer into my arms, before 
David spoke for them both, whispering 'We love you too, Baloo.'
'But I still need to go for a piss!' said Steve.  I let him 
gently down, patted him on the bare bottom, and sent him off to 
relieve himself, reminding him first to put his PJ's on, and to 
be as quick as possible.  As he left I turned back to the boy 
still in my arms, and we pressed lips together in a long, deep 
kiss.

Despite our naked closeness, it was not until this expression of 
our passion that my penis began to rise.  This was helped by the 
feel of David's short rod pressing hard in the softness of my 
side, buttocks resting comfortably on my hip.  He opened his 
mouth to mine, and our tounges touched with electric tingling.  
That small part of him darted over mine, as I lapped over his 
fine teeth, trying to entwine those sensitive organs together.

At this point there was a slight gasp, and a high voice sounded 
out.

'I'm going to tell!'

There, in the doorway, was Mark.


     ******** Cub Scout Camp Chapter Six **********

Alright, I'll admit it, Mark's voice startled me.  I took a step 
back, forgetting the extra weight of the boy on my hip.  The 
floor slipped from under me, David was propelled upwards as I 
crashed flat on my back on the hard tiled surface.  As if this 
was not enough, the airborne division of our acrobatic display 
landed cleanly on my prone form.

Before I could even think of breathing again, the lad scrambled 
off, to kneel at my side, and to my surprise, the worried face of 
Mark also swam into my field of vision, momentarily restricted to 
the area directly above me.
'You've killed him!' was my small friends wail, small hands 
searching my chest and head for signs of life.
'I.. I didn't me to..'  the cause of the present predicament 
stuttered out.
It was then that I managed to suck in a gasping breath, chest 
heaving with the effort.  For my reward the naked boy flung his 
arms around me, kissing my lips between my laboured breathings.  
It was a great gesture, but did not really help aid my recovery, 
except in the spiritual sense.  Struggling to sit up, I came face 
to face with Mark, thick flannel PJs covering him from sight.  I 
felt very naked under his gaze, a feeling very different from 
that when the other boys had seen me in a similar state.  Seeing 
me start to recover, the concern for my welfare fled from his 
features, to be replace by an almost feral anger.  He stood up, 
backing towards the door as he did so.
'I'm still going to tell on you!' he exclaimed, and turned to run 
from the room.  Instead of the open door, he was confronted by 
the small but annoyed figure of Stevie, door closed and bolted 
behind him.  Stevie's next action, I still think, was a tad on 
the extreme side.  From behind, it looked as if Mark tried to 
lift himself on his toes, for some reason grunted in failure, and 
then folded forward until he toppled over to lay moaning on the 
floor, hands clamped to his middle.
'I kicked him in the nuts,' Steve stated, 'is Baloo OK?'
My beloved let the young rescuer know that my recovery was 
underway, then, as Stevie sat with me to give encouragement, he 
stepped over to the prone form, and drew his foot back ready to 
kick.
'No!'  My first coherent word forced from me, 'Don't hurt him.'
My lad turned his head to me, quizzical and slightly put-out, his 
intention of kicking the other lad to within an inch of his life 
or further clear.  It was touching to see the extent of his love 
for me, but there was no way I wanted Mark hurt because of me.  
Somehow I would have to talk him round.  It was at this point 
that my support left, to crouch by the injured boy's head, and 
said in a clear voice 'I don't think Mark is going to tell any
one, are you Mark, otherwise I might tell them about you and 
Alan's little sister in the woods.'
Mark's body shuddered at the words, and he let our a deeper 
groan, then, the pain of his hurt groin fading, he began to sob 
as the smaller boy explained what he had seen.

It had been during the last Easter, and Steve had been playing in 
the woods behind his house.  He had seen Mark leading the little 
girl along a narrow path, the boy saying something about sweets.  
Being curious as to what the two of them were doing, he had 
followed, Indian like, until Mark had led the girl into some 
bushes.  Stevie crept through the undergrowth to where he could 
see them both, and hear what was being said.  The older boy told 
her that if she wanted a sweet, she would have to take off her 
shorts and panties, and being of the same general genetic make-up 
as her brother, it did not take much persuasion.  She let herself 
be examined visually by the boy, and was about to object to his 
probing fingers when the appearance of another sweet quietend her 
down.  When Mark took down his own shorts and pants, his small 
but definitely erect cock came into view.  With the addition of 
more sweets, he had her touch and jerk his rod, then told her 
that it tasted like a lolly-pop, and she would like sucking it!  
The girl was gullible, and tried it, but spat it out when she 
found it was not very sweet (not sure why myself, they always 
tasted fine to me!).  This upset her a bit, although so far, she 
was apparently not to worried by the experience, as long as the 
sweets kept coming.  The final denouement was when he lay down 
and had her climb on top of him, his penis close to her vagina, 
and attempted to penetrate her.  Stevie described it as if he had 
actually succeeded, but from later information I think he had 
only managed to rub along the outer edges.  After coming to a dry 
climax against the girl, he had dressed them both and taken her 
back to the playing fields where he had found her.

By this time the older boy was sobbing his heart out, crying that 
he had only wanted to know what a girl was like, and that no-one 
liked him, and he wanted to die.  That was too much for me, I was 
always a sucker for a kid in distress, even when he was such an 
unpleasant boy as Mark had been that past few days.  I crossed 
the short distance between us and held him in my arms, soothing 
him, saying that we wouldn't tell anyone else, and that people 
did like him, that we liked him.  David looked at me in disgust 
when I said that, and Stevie raised an eyebrow at me, but I 
shrugged carefully, so that the guy in my arms could not feel it, 
and grinned apologetically at them.  Slowly, the sobs subsided, 
and the boy collapsed limply in my lap.  He had not seemed to 
mind my state of undress this time, and made no protest as I 
lifted him in my arms, and sat him, now beginning to drift towards
sleep after his emotional shock, on one of the benches.

'Why don't you like me and the others having a bit of fun, Mark?'
He lent up to my ear, and asked if the other two boys could go 
out.  I waved the confused boys to the store at the other end of 
the room, and as soon as they had disappeared through the door, 
Mark made me promise not to laugh.  I solomly swore to keep a 
straight face, and also to keep what he was about to say or do a 
secret between only the two of us.  Shyly, he reached down and 
undid the button of his PJ bottoms, and folded back the thick 
cloth.  My heart went out to the poor boy.  What Steve had not 
seen in the woods were the long scars, cris-crossing the small 
penis, beneath which nestled not two, but only one little 
testicle.  He stood up, and let the trousers drop to his ankles, 
showing yet more scars across his bottom, one that ran from near 
his dark hole, over the sweet mound of flesh, to disappear on his 
hip.  That one showed the marks of stitching, unlike the other 
cuts.  He fingered that line gingerly.
'They found out about that one, she cut me too much and it 
wouldn't stop bleeding.  She had to take me to the hospital, and 
they locked her up.'
'Who was it that did this to you, Mark, someone you loved?'
He nodded, so I continued, 'Was it your Mother?'
He nodded again, and started to cry again.  I hugged him close, 
heart in tears along with his, no wonder this child was so 
unhappy, to have such a thing happen.

I looked up at the faint noise beside us, and found both David 
and Stevie, eyes wide in an awed horror at the sight of their 
mutilated companion.  I opened my arms wide, to hug all three 
boys to me, and they joined me in comforting not only the sad 
little Mark, but each other, and myself too.  Three naked bodies, 
one part clothed, warming the others souls with the close 
contact, skin to skin.  None of us were aroused by now, the need 
was beyond simple sex, had gone to that plane where members of 
the same wolf pack respond to the hurt of one of their number, by 
gathering close, to feel the presence of another living being, to 
hear through the flesh the beating of anothers heart, to breath 
in unisism, until the healing has begun.

We stayed that way for what seemed forever, each of the boys 
drifting into sleep one by one, nestled in my arms, until the 
close heat of their bodies sent me into the depths of somnia.

The floor was hard and cold beneath my back as the first rays of 
dawn skipped through the high windows of the shower block.  The 
boys must have made a joint pact to use me as a pillow cum 
mattress, and were lined up spoon fashion, heads and shoulders 
resting on my chest.  Stevie's sweet breath brushed up to my 
chin, and I could smell the slight milky scent of it in my 
nostrils.  Mark was sandwiched between the others, one arm flung 
across my body, the other tucked protectively over the little 
boy's chest, holding them tight together.  My David had his upper 
arm resting on the other's shoulders, and his lower was in it's 
now accustomed place when we slept together, gripped round my 
swelling organ.  The smile on his sleeping face expanded with me, 
eventually his eyes sprang open, that switch from sleep to 
wakefulness happening with it's usual speed.

Taking care not to waken them, we extracted ourselves from the 
others.  I held my amour in my arms, feeling the delicacy of his 
frame, his small hands patting at the hair of my chest, as we 
kissed tounge to tounge.  Starting at his forehead, I kissed 
downwards, tenderly caressing each eye lid, the small nose, under 
that fine chin, down to the small boy nipples below.Running a 
hand over the soft pit of his stomach, fingers resting on the 
small dent of his navel, then down, guided by the ridge of his 
pelvis, to the hot rod of pleasure, surmounted on the twin globes 
of ecstasy.  He responded with his usual enthusiasm, and 
whispered, giggling, in my ear 'I need to go and shit!'

I released the highly amused boy, gave him a swat on the rear, 
and sent him off to relieve himself.  This was one I had never 
encountered in any of the boy story-books I had read, in those 
the lads never even seemed to need to eat, let alone use their 
little bottom holes for anything more than penis passages.  
Still, I was perked up as he turned on reaching the door, and 
commented 'After all, I may need some more room there for later!'

While he was away, I made sure the others were comfortable, and 
still in the land of nod.  The sight of Mark's poor wounds were 
depressing, but in sleep, the boy looked more relaxed and content 
than I had ever seen him before, and I realised that he was truly 
a handsome lad.  Without the bitterness, the reasons for which 
had become abundantly clear over the past few hours, his face, 
with Stevie's beside it, could have graced any cathedral ceiling 
as part of the angelic host.  Somehow I knew that last night the 
boys and I had finally broken through Mark's hatred, at last he 
had shared his sorrow, and in doing so had started himself on the 
road of self-healing.  It would be a long journey for the small 
boy, and some day I may relate what he slowly told us, over the 
next few years, but for now it no longer mattered if he said 
anything to anyone else, for that would be such a small matter 
beside his own suffering.

Some minutes later, David returned, and we started where we had 
left off, my attention this time being directed at his newly 
emptied orifice, as he began to sate his hunger on my organ.  We 
were in an almost classic sixty nine position, him on top with 
his legs tucked up against my sides, leaving a clear field to his 
scrotum and rear end.  As I probed my tounge deeper into his 
little arse, he started playing mouth ping-pong with my balls, 
drawing first one then the other into the warm embrace of his 
mouth.  Finally he tried to engulf both at the same time, but I 
had to restrain him, for although he could get a respectable 
amount of cock down his sweet throat, my tender globes were too 
large a mouthful, and were crushed together!  Slipping under him 
returned his attention to my penis, and I licked over the single 
udder between his legs, pushing with a spit dampened index finger 
at his hole.  It was too dry still, and I stopped to reconsider 
our position.  At his suggestion, I retrieved the Vaseline, while 
he made himself comfortable lying back on the end of a bench, 
heals flung over his shoulders to give the best possible access 
to his bottom.  I greased up my fingers, brushing them lightly 
around the dark pucker of his sphincter, making sure the whole 
flattened valley between his buttocks was well lubricated.  
Dropping my head, I nibbled at his groin, teasing about his 
genitals.  He began to make small imploring whimperings, and I 
tapped gently on the entrance to his body, slowly screwing my 
finger in to the knuckle.  Massaging his chest and nipples with 
my free hand, sucking on his boy parts, while reaming his bottom 
out, I felt David relax himself to the sensations of his body.  
The more I fingered him, the more open he became, until I gauged 
the time was right for a more intimate coupling.  He moaned when 
I pulled my finger from him, holding his hands out imploring it's 
return, but I used the short interval to smear my prick with the 
smooth jelly, then positioned myself at the end of the bench, 
aimed directly between his legs.  I watched as I moved forward, 
still rubbing over his chest, and saw my tip touch to his hole, 
then slip easily into the recesses of his rectum.  At about the 
half way point I slowed, encountering the same resistance I had 
some days previous.  Stopping, I left a small pressure in him, 
and let myself enjoy the hot clutch of his bottom.  As we rested, 
David's eyes resting closed, he relaxed still further, legs 
dropping back towards his sides, and like a flower responding to 
the sunlight, the resistance of his intestines flowed away, and I 
sank deep into his opening body.  As my thighs touched to his 
stretched buttocks, he flicked opened his eyes, and said those 
immortal words 'Are you all the way in me?', followed, as I 
nodded assent 'Stay in me like this forever.'

We remained motionless, except for the gentle rippling of his 
insides around my shaft, these small involuntary caresses 
combined with the heat of being enclosed within this boy I loved 
rapidly bringing me towards release.  I asked if I could start to 
fuck his tender backside, before I exploded where I was, and with 
his agreement, I began to thrust in and out of the pliant child.  
It could not last long, and as I pushed into him with my final 
thrust, he locked his legs behind me, trying to pull us even 
closer together.  My climax seemed to last forever, sensitive 
organ pulsing again and again, long after I had spent my load in 
his bowels.  For once, after the end, my penis failed me, the 
exertions having been too much for my libido, and I popped limply 
from the boy.  He sat up, fingering his rapidly shrinking hole, 
and holding my dead cock in his hand, gazing at it in wonder.
'That was great, can we do it again?' he eventually asked.  
'Not quite yet, you seem to have drained me beyond normal 
service' I replied.  He looked down at his own still active pole, 
then questioningly at me.  Tuning in to his wavelength, I turned 
on my back, and hauled my legs up.  I had never had anyone do 
this too me, but who better that this beloved lad?  I was further 
astonished as he began to prepare me as I had him, small tounge 
darting into my exposed hole, and the feeling was indescribable.  
His thin finger gave a mixed feeling of uncomfortable 
unacustumedness, and total bliss, with the thought of was to come 
a future delight.  Seeing him poised, legs akimbo, straddling my 
wide bottom (against his frame that is, I am no more trailer 
ended than most adults!), hardened my manhood more than any other 
sight, and I was all ready for his first entrance into my tail 
end.  It was then we hit a snag.  Although he was as hard as any 
youngster had a right to be, my adult rear passage was showing 
slightly more resistance than he could overcome.  The first 
fucking by a boy I had had was reduced almost to the level of a 
farce, as he resorted to slowly stuffing himself into my rectum 
with his fingers!  It did work, after a fashion, and soon he was 
ensconced within me.  To feel the little boy meat inside that 
opening was heaven, and when he started to thrust, bouncing as 
rapidly as a rabbit in heat, little tiny movements, I could 
understand the look of total pleasure that had been on his face 
as I plumbed him.  

His expression now was one of determined zeal, breath coming in 
short gasps as he worked hard on his first adult conquest.  
Looking down between our bodies, I could see that the flexible 
shin covering of his penis remained stuck in my rectum, and the 
boy was thrusting only the central erect portion of himself in 
and out of me.  In a sense, he was rubbing off on the inside of 
his own covering, rather than on the inside walls of my arse, but 
who cares, we were both enjoying the sensation!  Of a sudden, I 
saw his belly suck in, the muscles tighten, and he pushed 
continuously for several seconds.  Although I could feel nothing 
different in my lower regions, I knew he had cum, before he 
relaxed back, pulling that delightful tube from me.  As we 
clasped together, my rampant organ decided that enough was 
enough, and subsided into quintessence.  He smiled up at me, and 
rested his head gently on my shoulder.

A short while later, after we had cleaned up and dressed again in 
our night attire, discarded so long ago, I lifted the still 
sleeping Steve into David's waiting arms, picked Mark up, and 
headed back to the tent.  Neither of the other two boys had so 
much as stirred as we had pulled their PJ's onto them, and we 
were able to return them to their sleeping bags without waking 
them.  Before we retired to our own beds, both in urgent need of 
some shut eye, David asked if I thought Mark really would tell on 
us.  I shook my head, and told him that I thought mark had some 
very real problems, and was in desperate need of some friends.  
This had been the cause of his attitude all the time, and if we 
could show him friendship, however difficult, then it would help 
him.  My lover seemed satisfied with that, and also promised 
never to tell anyone else, either about what Stevie had seen in 
the woods, or about the scars on the other boys body.  We drifted 
apart, back to the sad seclusion of our own beds, and drifted in 
harmony to that land where no love is ever despised.


     ******* Cub Scout Camp Chapter Seven *******

Was this Thursday morning?  God, it was getting more difficult 
each day to rouse myself.  To make it worse, it was not even 
David or one of my sweet Red Six that finally pulled me from my 
slumber, but one of Mark's Greens!  I suppose the kid was cute, 
but in my half wakened state I almost gave him what might have 
been a far from unwelcome shock.  There was just time to change 
my half started reach to his groin into a a wide stretch, to 
which I added a huge yawn.

Looking round, most of the Greens were almost dressed, except for 
Mark, who like my own troops was still snoring away.  Shaking the 
last of the sleep from me, I started tipping boys from their 
sleeping bags, eliciting howls of protest, but also getting a 
good look at a fair amount of boy skin.  Even after the past few 
days, I was not adverse to increasing my dosage of their beauty.  
David was as hard as was usual for him in the morning, and made 
no attempt to hide his erection from the others while he searched 
for his underpants.  

I left Mark to last, and most of his Six had already left when I 
dropped beside him, shielding our conversation from the others.  
He was already awakening, stirred by the recent commotion of the 
other boys being hurled from their sleep, and a few tender 
caresses over his hair opened his eyes to gaze into mine.
'You OK, sport?'  I inquired.  He half smiled up at me, and 
nodded.
'Are you decent inside that sleeping bag?' I asked, and when he 
nodded in contentment from his warm lodgings, I grasped the end 
of the bag, hauling it skywards, and yelled 'Then it's time to 
get up then!' as the lad tumbled from his nest.  He was indeed 
still in his PJ bottoms, but sometime in the night, and for the 
first time, he had discarded his top.  Now he lay on his naked 
back, legs akimbo in their heavy cloth covering, and a look of 
maniac glee spread across his face as he tensed himself to spring 
at me.  He launched himself at my legs, and I came crashing to 
the ground, then scooted up my body to sit on my chest, hands 
holding my arms beside my head.  I looked up to see David 
shepherding the rest of the boys out of the tent, then turn and 
wink at me as he too left.

Mark's weight was slight, and he held my only by my consent, 
growling at my face, teasing me to do something about my 
situation.  I bounced him on my stomach a few times, raising his 
bottom an inch or two off my body with each jerk, then rolled 
over, taking care not to put too much of my bulk on him, allowing 
him to regain ascendance.  We carried on this game, rolling back 
and forth, until the boy was panting and hot.  I rolled, but this 
time stayed on top, and as I lowered my rear into his groin, I 
could feel the short hardness of his prick.  I twisted slightly, 
and he let out a sharp gasp.  When I released his arms, he stayed 
flat out on his back, and as I slipped between his legs, and 
grasped the sides of his PJ bottoms, he raised his hips to allow 
me to slip them down.  He winced and his body tightened for a 
second as I traced along the lines of some of the scars on his 
hips and groin, but the he relaxed to my touch, feeling my soft 
brushing, rather than the sharp knife of his bitter experience.  
I studied the mutilated penis, it was no longer this morning as a 
hard erection than it had been the night before, in limpen state, 
the solid scar tissue holding it's expansion back, but it had 
thickened beyond what I had seen on any boy, including Ox, and 
was almost the thickness of (damn, I can't think of a good 
analogy, lets just say it was as wide, if not wider than mine, 
alright?).  Circling it's short length with two fingers, I 
started to masturbate the panting boy, changing my manipulations 
in response to his faint jerkings of his groin.  He moaned as I 
slid my little finger under and around his half empty sac, 
increasing his small thrustings into my palm as he felt the 
friendly finger exploring his body.  I moved down, and was about 
to draw him into my mouth, when his little hands pushed at my 
head, and he pleaded 'No, please, not that...'
The scared look in his eyes opened mine to more of the horrors he 
must have endured in his short life, and I pulled away, smiling 
gently at him, continuing my digital manoeuvring.  He lay back, 
content that he was not going to be forced beyond what he 
desired, until at last, he arched his back, pushing upwards with 
all his might in my hand, and fell back, sighing and spent.  
Lifting my ministering fingers, I discovered a light pasting of 
clear, sticky fluid, and held it up for his inspection.
'You're doing better than lots of boys your age, not all of them 
can cum even this much!'  I said, praising.
He blushed, and pulled his PJ's back on, then asked if we could 
go to breakfast, in a tone that implied he would return the 
favour, but not from inclination. I indicated he should dress, 
and I, slowly subsiding in the nether regions, pulled on my own 
clothing.  He exited when I lifted the tent flap, but then half 
turned, and quietly said 'Thanks.'
Then he turned, and haired off to the cook-house, where he ate 
more, and with greater gusto that any of us had seen before. 
Akela passed a comment that it was good to see he had finally got 
over his home sickness, but both David and Steve looked at me as 
if to suggest they knew more about what he had gotten over!


After breakfast and chores, the lads were sent off to change for 
the sports.  All of them had to change, as there were some field 
and team games, involving the whole of each Pack.  Now is when 
the younger readers should weep with frustration at having missed 
that wondrous time, when it was deemed healthy for boys to wear 
nothing but white cotton shorts and singlets for athletics, 
finished off with a pair of black daps. (These were rubber soled 
black cotton plimsolls, with a strip of elastic over the top of 
the foot).  All around were tight shorts, pushing burgeoning 
scrotums to one side, to show as a bulge of tight skin beside the 
leg, wide legged shorts, displaying all when their owners sat 
down, or even better, belling up over soft mounds as the lads lay 
on their fronts watching some race.  All in all, I was in seventh 
heaven, and I have a feeling there were others among the leaders 
in the same position.  Ah, the days before sewn in linings!

Back to the story.  Our Pack was doing reasonably well in the 
mornings athletics, partly due to the superior strength of Ox, 
whom none of the other Packs had an answer to.  Ivan came second 
in the two hundred yards, and David, a natural sprinter, won the 
hundred.  We also did well in the field games, but the Pack with 
the larger lads, who had won the game earlier in the week, 
although they could not match Ox individually,  trounced us as a 
group.  It was a good victory, which none of the other lads 
begrudged them.  I was taking some good photographs, both of the 
sports, and studies of individuals spectating, when David asked 
if we could go for a walk in the woods.  He had no further races 
to compete in, and I was surplus to most requirements at the 
time, so we vanished into the trees.

To avoid any unexpected eyes, David led me further back into the 
undergrowth than we had been to build the shelters, nut we were 
brought short by an unexpected russeling in the clearing ahead.  
We carefully crawled further forward, until we could see the open 
area between the trees clearly.  Two smallish bodies, white 
clothing scattered around, black daps still in position, writhed 
in naked abandon before us.  I strained to see their faces, but 
didn't recognise them.  David whispered that they were from one 
of the other Packs, twin boys of nine or ten.  They were 
certainly in the Gemini position, nose to tail, working hungrily 
on each others hard members.  I reached a hand to David's legs, 
and worked it under the thin cloth covering his tail, squeezing 
the soft flesh under my hand, running a finger up to his little 
hole.  He moved his bottom back, pressing against my probing 
finger, and it slipped into him slightly.  Almost immediately, he 
pulled away, the dry digit rubbing too painfully for penetration 
of his tight arse.  I reached under him to his hard cock, 
masturbating him under the shorts.

The boys in the clearing, still unaware of their attentive and 
appreciative audience, were now working on each others holes, 
using spit, which had previously been unsuccessful with David, to 
lubricate their fingers. It was even more surprising, when one of 
them rolled on his back, feet over his shoulders, and the other 
picked up the full bottle of orange pop from the ground beside 
them.  Each boy had been given a bottle of this fizzy drink about 
half way through the morning, and obviously these two had kept 
theirs back for some reason.  I watched with David, both of us 
incredulous, as the kneeling twin shook the bottle violently, 
finger over the top, then unceremoniously thrust the neck into 
his brothers waiting bottom!  Almost half the liquid vanished 
from the bottle, and as none of it appeared to leak over the 
white hills of his buttocks, the only place it could possibly be 
was inside his rectum.  Now I had heard of enemas, and even 
vaguely about the possible sexual possibilities inherent in that 
operation, but to see one performed in such an ingenious way, but 
two fresh faced youngsters was, to put it mildly, astonishing.  
David looked at me in amazement, and all I could do was shrug my 
shoulders and raise an eyebrow, before returning my gaze on the 
sight before us.

The well filled twin was now being filled further by the addition 
of his brothers small cock, and we could see it slither in and 
out of his orange lubricated bottom.  This sight was too much to 
bear, with my beloved beside me, but as I reached in my pocket to 
adjust my uncomfortable position, my hand encountered salvation!  
There, nestling among the other contents of my pocket, was a 
small sachet of Brylcrem.  I pulled it out, passed it in front of 
my small companion, and he nodded in desperate agreement.  I tore 
the packet open, and spread the contents on my shaft. Positioning 
myself behind David, I thrust forward, the boy holding the leg of 
his shorts to one side, exposing his waiting hole.  It was not a 
gentle and tender exchange, perhaps it was doing it out in the 
woods, or the extraordinary sight we were witnessing, but more an 
animalistic explosion of sex.  I thrust hard in and out of the 
excited boy, and he responded, jerking back into my groin as I 
withdrew in an attempt to remain impaled as deeply as possible.  
It is also not recommended to fuck a boy who is still dressed.  
It is possible, and I will relate more at some future date as to 
it's advantages, but when your partner releases his grip on the 
cloth he is holding aside, unfortunate friction burns can be a 
side effect as it tries to return to it's normal position!

I slammed home for a last time, firing my wad into the deep 
recesses of his wonderful rectum, just as the twins swapped 
positions, repeating the performance they had just completed but 
in opposite roles.  David slid forwards off my pole, having 
climaxed just before I did, the cotton front of his shorts, held 
tight to his groin, had worked as a manipulating hand while we 
coupled.  He lay, for the first time I had seen, shattered by the 
experience.  I dropped beside him, and watched the final act of 
the play before us.

The twins, having satisfied each other, got up and walked primly, 
with cheeks tightly clamped together, over to a tree surrounded 
by dock leaves.  They crouched down on their heels, and emptied 
themselves of their previously acquired burden.  Cleaning 
themselves and each other up with the available leaves, they 
hugged together, kissing, then dressed and skipped back towards 
the camp, leaving the two pop bottles strewn on the ground.

David and I cleaned ourselves up, then entered the clearing.  The 
lad moved a little stiffly, so I called him over and examined his 
rear for damage.  The Brylcrem had not been a great success, and 
his little rose was rather reddened, but with no permanent 
damage.  I suggested he rub a little Vaseline on himself when we 
returned, as he picked up the bottles to return to the camp waste 
bins.  He had been rather indignant that the other Cubs had just 
left them there, as all were taught the dangers of glass to 
wildlife (true, those bottles had already encountered quite a bit 
of wild-life without causing it harm), and also the possibility 
of staring a forest fire. He sniffed at the tops, finding nothing 
too objectionable, and examined the tops carefully.  I could see 
what was going through his mind, and asked if he wanted to try 
what they had been doing. He thought for a few seconds, then 
rejected the idea, with the comment that bottles were too hard, 
and my prick was probably more comfortable!

Leaving the woods, we caught up with the energetic twosome, and 
David made great pains to tell them of the bottles we had found 
on our 'walk', talking at length about the dangers of leaving 
glass lying around.  I have a feeling the two other lads had gone 
into shock at seeing the familiar shapes, and were not really 
paying attention to his lecture, more intent on finding out if we 
had seen anything else in the woods!

We were just in time for lunch, followed by an afternoon of more 
sedentary pursutes.  Alan did well in the nature identification, 
and Stevie excelled himself with his performance in Kim's Game, 
much to the charign of the players from the other Packs, all of 
whom were much older than him.  The last part of the afternoon 
was at the poolside, unfortunately, since the purchase of 
Stevie's new costume, all the boys were covered.  There is 
something that can almost be more erotic in a lightly covered boy 
than in one fully air conditioned, particularly when they pose 
proud of themselves, as Stevie in particular did!

Just before the end of the evening, the points were totalled up, 
and we came in joint second with the Pack from Devon (with the 
twins), which was a credible performance.  No-one was 
particularly unhappy about the result, as we had all had a good 
time, and there was none of the petty crowing about victory that 
you can see in boys competitions today.  All the boys were tired, 
many falling asleep around the camp fire, and we all turned in 
early.  David scooted over to my sleeping bag soon after I got 
in, and we dropped of in each others arms.  Ok what were you 
expecting? I'm only human, and what with my cloth burns, his 
battered bottom, and several nights of sexual activity and little 
sleep, we were in no state to do more than enjoy the presence of 
each other.

There was only one more day, and night, to go, then it would be 
back to the everyday life for all of us.  On the other hand, it 
was one more day, and even afterwards, I had a feeling my life 
would never be the same again.


    ********** Cub Scout Camp Chapter 8 **************

Friday dawned with David still nestled in my arms, the soft 
burden of his small weight a delight against my chest.  I stayed 
unmoving for as long as I dared, drinking in the wonders of his 
beautiful young face, until the stirrings of the others prompted 
me to lift the sleeping boy back to his own bed.  He came half 
awake as I zipped him into his cold sleeping bag, but soon 
snuggled back into that happy dreamland he had almost just left.  
Looking round I gave thanks for being able to be part of such a 
heart warming sight.  There was a sense of peace over the 
sleeping boys, each in harmonious individuality with his 
compatriots.

To one side was Stevie, just a small brush of hair showing over 
the edge of his covers, body hardly raising a visible bump in the 
thick fabric.  On the other side, one of Green Six lay, almost 
out of his bag, PJ top thrown open.  His belly gently rose and 
fell, the natural deep breathing of sleep coming more from his 
stomach than his delicate chest.  The thin skin of childhood that 
covered his fine outlined ribs almost glowed golden from the 
effects of the past few days exposure to sunlight.  It must have 
been over an hour that I sat there, in that perfect tranquillity, 
before the occasional murmurings the boys were making changed 
into the stretching and yawns of waking.  All around lads lifted 
themselves up, shaking the last dregs of sleep from their bodies, 
dressing in preparation for the day ahead.

On this last full day of camp we were heading off on what for the 
boys was a mystery hike.  The day before the Wardens, Akela and 
myself had examined the local Ordinance Survey maps and picked 
our destinations.  The route I had chosen for Red Six was, 
according to the local leaders, a fairly tough five or so miles 
through some back trails, ending in a secluded quarry with a 
swimming hole at the bottom.  What prompted me to select that 
particular hike I can't think, but it did seem to have some 
prospects!  The overall idea was to take the boys to an 
interesting area, spend the day studying the local fauna and 
flora, have some fun, and bring them back tired but happy for the 
final Pack campfire.

As we would be outside the camp site, the boys had to wear their 
full uniforms.  I know this sounds very authoritarian by todays 
standards, but it gave them a better sense of constancy and 
belonging, in what at the time could be a very uncertain world.  
Anyhow, I liked to see them in all their finery, a cuter bunch of 
lads you could not find!  We had all picked up our packed lunches 
from the cook house, and I had distributed the various bits and 
pieces we might need on our trek to the boys. Then it was off 
into the wild hinterlands.  Actually, even back in those days, it 
was difficult to be remote from civilisation, but the area we 
were heading was as wild as it gets on this small and overcrowded 
island.

The day was shaping up to be as good as the previous few, and the 
lads were enthusiastic and cheerful as we marched along.  A few 
choruses of 'Happy Wanderer', then other camp trail songs really 
lifted the spirits.  Alan introduced me to the basics of tree and 
plant identification, taking great delight in pointing out which 
were most poisonous, and bemoaning the fact that so few were 
deadly.  Every now an then one of them would stand stock still, 
pointing at some movement in the undergrowth that might turn out 
to be an exotic creature, but was usually a common sparrow.  We 
did see squirrels, and quite a number of the regular forest 
birds, and one far off hawk, possibly a buzzard, although Stevie, 
who had first spotted it firmly declared it was an eagle.  He was 
darting ahead, casting to the left and right to be the first to 
spot a new excitement, sometimes doing a cartwheel or forward 
roll in shear exuberance.  Ox and Ivan stayed close at hand, the 
bigger boy finding the going somewhat hard at times, almost as if 
he was a shade to large for his own stamina.  David walked with 
me, matching stride for stride, occasionally having to perform a 
half hop to keep in step, chatting butterfly style, flitting from 
one topic to the next with hardly a rest.

By the time we neared our destination, we were all more settled, 
the walk, even though short by some peoples standards, being more 
than most of us town dwellers were used to.  The warm sun, which 
had been so welcome earlier, now just made us hot and sticky, and 
I was glad to find the path down to the water filled quarry.  
Below us should have been a sparkling, clear blue lagoon, but 
instead, what we saw was a muddy brown colour, more like thick 
chocolate than water.  Still, it looked inviting to our heat 
sodden limbs, and we gratefully descended the last few hundred 
yards to its edge.  I had been told that it was safe to bathe, as 
long as we stayed in the near half to the path, but I scanned the 
water carefully in case I could see any dangers. 

The boys looked longingly at the cool water, and the tree 
overhanging it in which some past visitor had strung up an old 
tyre.  Eventually I finished my inspection, and to their joy I 
gave the thumbs up to a quick dip. None of them had brought 
costumes, but within seconds there were five naked boys heading 
for the water, and items of uniform scattered everywhere.  I 
called them back and had them rescue their garments before they 
could get too dirty, then chased them into the water!  Soon there 
were boys splashing in the shallows, boys swinging from the tyre, 
and boys wallowing in the thick mud that surrounded the pool.  
Mud and water fights ensued, with me making the most of the 
opportunity to record the scene on film.  I can assure you that 
if clubs were to advertise two small boys wrestling in mud as an 
attraction, rather than the usual women, they would not only 
attract a greater audience, they would find no more enthusiastic 
and happy wrestlers in the world!  Big Ox took on the other four, 
and finally called to me for assistance.  I needed no further 
encouragement to join them, and stripped to my swimming costume, 
which, being forewarned, I had secreted under my trousers. 

At first, the smaller boys fled from the combined onslaught of Ox 
and myself, but as we stood back to back in the ankle deep mud, 
the big lad saw his chance, and tossed me full length in the 
ooze.  Before I could recover my position, the others swarmed 
over me, to join their new ally.  With the others holding me 
down, mud squelching everywhere, David took great delight in 
slipping his hands under the waist of my trunks, and pulled them 
down and off, to be swung around his head as a battle trophy!  I 
flung the others from me and gave chase, eventually capturing the 
little tyke under my arm.  Using his feet to fend off his 
rescuers, I play tapped his exposed backside, raising great yells 
of protest from him.

By the time we eventually fell exhausted from the water, it was 
heading towards lunch time.  We washed the remaining mud from our 
limbs, and turned our attentions to the fat packages in our 
knapsacks.  There can be few greater pleasures than lying naked 
beside a cool swimming hole in the sun, surrounded by boys in the 
same state, while munching contentedly on meat paste sandwiches, 
drinking orange pop.

As we neared the end of our repast, I half closed my eyes, 
resting happily in the suns rays, not caring if vital parts 
received more than a warranted exposure.  The boys moved back, 
out of my line of sight, and from the whispered hissings behind 
me, I was expecting a surprise resumption of hostilities.  
Instead, I heard the muffled grunting followed by a long burp, 
very similar to one I had heard a few nights before.  My estimate 
revised to a slight disappointment in not having been invited to 
participate in what I imagined was occurring behind me, until 
shadows fell across my body, and the boys shuffled into my line 
of sight.  I opened my eyes to find them standing before me, 
barely restrained mirth on their faces.  David spoke for them 
all, a giggle in his voice.
'Do you want some fruit, Baloo?' he asked.
I guessed they were looking for a little gentle suction on their 
obviously aroused sensibilities, so I raised an eyebrow and 
myself on one elbow, indicating they should elaborate.  To my 
surprise, Ox and Ivan grabbed Stevie by his ankles and shoulders, 
swinging him to land gently on his back, legs up and bottom 
before me.  I looked in astonishment at the fruit salad before 
me.  Two nuts, surmounted by the little pineapple of his glans, 
buttocks more deep apricot than peaches and cream, and from the 
centre of his little cherry, the stalk of the only real fruit in 
the bowl, a banana!  Now before you all go off saying that goes 
beyond the possible, remember that the only ones we got at that 
time were tiny little fruit compared with todays monstrosities, 
and I guess that the ones included with our lunches had been no 
larger than either Ox's or my own erect organ.

The rest of the boys sat round to enjoy my fruit eating, making 
jokes about taking care to get the right thing when I sliced half 
through the exposed stalk with my pen knife.  I split the skin in 
four, draping one section up towards his tight scrotum, one over 
each firm buttock, and letting the last drop down between them.  
Slowly I pulled the soft centre from his bottom, eating the white 
flesh as I did so.  Quite what the psychological implications 
were of this gift and my acceptance I am not quite sure, but as I 
ate, the boys around me seemed to reach a fever pitch of 
excitement, climaxing, both figuratively and physically as I 
pulled the final segment from the small boys arse.  I fell back, 
the thought of the expended boys around me and the symbolism of 
the event I had just been part of overwhelming me, but looked up 
as Stevie, wild eyed, desperately lubricated my highly engorged 
organ with Vaseline.  Hardly waiting to finish the job, he 
straddled my hips, and dropped onto my upthrust cock.  There was 
no burping as I entered his already prepared rectum, replacing 
the article I had so recently removed.  There was hardly anything 
for me to do as he rose and fell like a dervish, twisting and 
turning his hips as he did so, almost trying to screw me deeper 
inside him.  Although it was the most incredible feeling, it was 
slightly disconcerting, almost as if I personally did not have to 
be there.  When I had fucked David, it was as if we were joining, 
becoming one person, but then, and I will admit, many times 
after, with Stevie it was irrelevant who was impaling him as long 
as they were a reasonable size and hard!

Even so, it was not long before I reached a highly enjoyable 
climax, depositing my all (little tough that was) into his 
overactive body.  He must have been aware of my state, as I 
pushed up hard as I ejaculated, slamming against his downward 
travelling bum, but he continued his gyrations for some time 
before eventually stiffening in little boy climax.  Sliding off 
my instrument, he pulled away the scarf the others had gagged him 
with before our session (yes, he had been singing all the time, I 
should have mentioned the gag at the start, but it just seemed a 
natural thing with Stevie), and stated that he like having sex 
with me because I didn't go soft as soon as I came!  Such are the 
complements of small boys!

Lifting his light body, I carried him to the water and washed the 
remains of our exertions from us.  The other boys followed suit, 
then I sent them off around the pool to search for frogs, water 
weed and other studiable things that we might be expected to have 
discovered on our trip.  Before dispatching Stevie I checked his 
rear, curious as to the effects of assorted objects being in 
unusual places.  I had heard that the sphincter enlarges and 
stays open, and have come across that phenomena in later years, 
but this lads back door had snapped shut like a trap door, 
looking wider than I remember, but definitely being closed.

David stayed with me, and we pulled small nets through the muddy 
water, fishing for tadpoles or water insects.  He asked how I had 
liked my desert, and I was careful how I answered, saying that I 
had enjoyed it tremendously, but possibly would have preferred 
slightly less to eat in his company alone. The reply must have 
reassured him, for he grinned that famous grin of his, and moved 
closer to me, thin limbs brushing against mine.  I guess that 
what I had with Stevie was great sex, but what I had with David 
was worth infinitely more - love.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty much conventional, except 
for the total lack of attire.  We collected our samples, wrote a 
few observations and took a few photographs which could be shown 
in public!  Then it was back to the camp, for a late tea, and the 
big Friday night camp fire.


    ****** Cub Scout Camp Chapter Nine *******

By the time we got back, both the boys and I were hot and sticky 
again, and we found the other returnees in the same state.  Akela 
ambushed me just before we were to go into the cook house for 
tea, and suggested that if I nipped over to the shower block and 
cleaned up, he would send the lads over as they finished their 
meals and I could then supervise them.  This was a heaven sent 
opportunity to do some more boy watching, so naturally I agreed.  
He was going to save me something to eat, so that I would not go 
hungry, but I think I would have volunteered anyhow!

The water was still splashing around my shoulders, washing the 
last of the soap-suds away as the first of the boys came in.  I 
wasn't surprised that it was David, or that he stripped quickly 
and joined me.  I would have liked to have had the opportunity to 
shower with him on an intimate basis, but as the others were 
beginning to arrive in dribs and drabs I beat a hasty retreat, 
David whispering that we could try again later.  It was all I 
could do to hide my approval (in the lower regions) of this 
suggestion, and had to towel off briskly while thinking of the 
oldest and most disgusting crones I could in an attempt to reduce 
my embarrassment.

I was dressed by the time the group of showering boys had grown 
to eight or so, water flowing gracefully over their delightful 
and varied limbs.  David, little imp that he is, asked if I could 
soap up his back, and stood just inside the shower area while I 
did so.  Perhaps I had better explain in slightly more detail, as 
the modern style is for individual showers, closed off from view.  
In those days, and still in some changing rooms in this 
enlightened country, the showers were one half of the room, white 
tiled, with a row of shower heads coming from a pipe on the far 
wall.  Thus the sight before me was of eight or so naked milling 
boys, all trying to find space under the waters flow.

Taking their cue from David, and seeking respite from the growing 
crowds at the water front, boys started queuing to be soaped up.  
By now, I was starting to enter a kind of dream world, as they 
waited patiently for my tender hands to caress soap into their 
backs, shoulders, over sweet buttocks, and down the backs of thin 
thighs to their little heels.  Each one tried to be as helpful as 
possible, opening their legs slightly as I lathered up the area 
just beneath their bottoms, allowing my fingers to brush against 
the backs of their small scrotums.  As I finished one, slapping 
the soft mounds of their rears to indicate I had finished, I 
yelled out 'Next!' and another short body would position itself 
in front of me.  

It was some time before I realised that I had attended to far 
more than the twenty odd boys of our Pack, and took more notice 
of what was happening around me.  Over on the benches sat a 
highly amused David, struggling to restrain his laughter, and to 
my slight surprise, beside him, enjoying the scene equally, sat 
Mark.  None of the rest of our boys were in sight, and it dawned 
on me that the rest belonged to two of the other Packs!  Here I 
was casually fondling forty or so wet boys who were total 
strangers to me, and me to them!  How I managed to avoid 
immediate heart failure I am uncertain to this day, but as no-one 
else seemed in the slightest bit worried, I just carried on and 
enjoyed myself.  At one point, one of the other Pack leaders 
poked their head round the door to inquire if the boys were 
behaving themselves, and having been assured they were, thanked 
me for looking after them and vanished!

After they had finished, and the last one had dried off (with a 
little help, after all, he was a very small and young lad, and 
needed a loving towelling off after his long day), David took 
great pleasure in informing me that I had actually washed every 
Cub in the camp, in a very intimate manner.  No wonder I felt 
exhausted!  Even Mark had come for my ministrations, being 
careful to join the queue when it was short, and hiding himself 
as much as possible from the others.  I had washed big Cubs, 
small Cubs, shy Cubs and exuberant Cubs (some in high stated of 
excitement).  My hands were like two prunes, wrinkled and soft, 
and it was all the more delightful to be dragged to my rapidly 
cooling dinner by my faithful assistants.  I joined in the 
hilarity, when I lifted the cover from my plate to reveal sausage 
and meatballs, embedded in two white mounds of mashed potato.

We joined the others, the whole camp sleepy and contented after 
the long day and hot showers, to gather at the camp fire and sing 
a few final songs before retiring to our beds.  Even the leaders 
joined in the early exodus, as shattered as their charges by the 
weeks happy adventures.  Most of the boys were already in their 
beds and asleep by the time I got to the tent, and David slipped 
right in beside me, naked as a Jay, to snuggle warmly in my arms.  
I gentle stroked between his legs, cradling his jewels in my 
palm, and felt the soft brush of his fingers in returning caress, 
but before we could do more, the comforting feelings engulfed us 
both, and we slept. (Don't think of this as a missed opportunity, 
I found it one of the most enjoyable experiences of the camp!).

I woke in the early light of dawn, to find my young companion 
blowing gently on my eyelids to awaken me.
'I'm not tired any more, are you?' he asked.  In response I 
thrust a hand between his legs, cupped his bottom and pushed him 
bodily out of my sleeping bag.  As he sprawled naked by my head, 
legs spread wide to show his hard little cock pointing at my 
nose, I suggested we might find somewhere slightly more private 
for our games.  He giggled, and slipped on his PJ bottoms, 
waiting eagerly for me at the tent flap, impatient to be off to 
the showers.

The early morning mist hung low over the field, giving a ghostly 
look to the surrounding buildings and tents.  We held hands, the 
lad half skipping beside me, swinging occasionally on my arm.  
His bare feet glistened with cool dew, captured from the grass 
beneath us.  I had slipped on a pair of plimpsoles, which were 
now sodden and cold, the harsh fabric rubbing on the bridge of my 
feet.

Entering the familiar building, I bolted the door behind us, and 
lifted my beloved onto a bench.  Using one of the towels left 
behind by a forgetful boy earlier, I dried off his legs, 
stripping the light cotton coverings from him as I did so. He 
stood before me, hands on hips, thrusting out the point of his 
pelvis, erection at full mast sticking out like a small stick of 
rock. He wiggled into my hands as they explored every facet of 
his body, from the back of his neck and head to the tips of his 
toes.  With each stroke over his tender skin, his penis jerked 
and swung, as if searching out a comfortable home.  I dipped my 
head, and drew the lost organ into my mouth, a safe cave for the 
homeless creature.

To my delight, he initiated the move to the floor, and I lay back 
as he crouched over me, bottom towards my face.  Classic sixty 
nine style he sucked in my large organ till I could feel his hot 
epiglotis brushing the tip.  I had his smaller rod pounding in 
and out between my lips, almost being smothered by his testicles, 
hanging low in their bag, which covered my nose on his downward 
stroke.  Not the most unpleasant way to go, but in the back of my 
mind I saw the whole scene at the mortuary.
'He was suffocated you say' said the burly detective.
'Yes' replied the doctor, 'but all we could find in his nostrils 
were some fine hairs, almost identical to those found on the 
scrotums of prepubesent boys!'
'Suffocated by a small boy's scrotum?' the puzzled cop asked.
'Yes, any idea how it happened?'
Still, as I said, not a bad way to go!

I was just thinking of working my tounge up to his little bum 
hole, and not only for the increased air supply, when there was a 
knocking at the bolted door.  All I could think of to say was 
'Who is it?', and only that after disengaging my speaking 
apparatus from David's sex appendages, and was only slightly 
relieved to hear Ox and Stevie pipe out that it was only them.  
Telling them to go away, as we were busy only elicited the 
response that they wanted to 'you know what' as well, and that 
the shower block was the only safe place.  In the end we let them 
in, to both be kissed by a grateful Stevie.  Ox took no time in 
stripping off his PJ's and preparing to fuck the younger lad.  
None of this foreplay stuff for him, it was just lubricate the 
penis, a 'Come here Stevie', and they were joined in the most 
intimate way possible.  The only thing he did stop for was to tie 
an old handkerchief round the boy's mouth, heaven only knows 
where they had got it, as it was one of the most unpleasant bits 
of fabric I had ever seen, but it served it's purpose, and only 
the muffled singing of the small boy could be heard.

Leaving them to get on with whatever they wanted to do, David and 
I started in on some serious hugging and kissing.  Some would say 
this is only a side issue of sex, and so it is, but when your 
feelings go beyond the initial urges, the close contact of the 
kiss can be one of the more sensuous parts of lovemaking.  The 
taste of your lovers juices, mingled with the scent of their 
breathing is pure luxury.  Having a tiny tounge dart back and 
fourth in your mouth is a delight not to me sniffed at, and when 
the top surfaces of those most delicate organs collide, there is 
an explosion of passion you could not believe if you had not 
experienced it yourself.  David was now sitting one one of my 
legs, facing me, in such a way that our two pricks danced hand in 
hand, brushing tip to tip as we moved in each others embrace.

David was just positioning himself so that my penis was pushing 
against his rear entrance, when Ox got off the now satisfied boy, 
said 'That's me done', nodded in out direction, and headed for 
the door.  Stevie stayed sprawled out, contented look on his face 
from his third fuck of the day, gag now down around his neck.  As 
Ox opened the door, Ivan and Alan trooped in, asking if anyone 
minded if they joined in.  This was getting to be a bit like 
Piccadilly Circus, and not because it was full of boys!  I had 
the ominous feeling that if I was not careful, just like that 
afternoon, the entire camp would come calling to service one 
another!  I guess this is the problem parents all over the world 
have, just as you are getting down to some serious nooky, another 
kid will walk in the bedroom.  Anyhow, we let them stay, after 
all, the place wasn't;t our own private property.  They hung 
around for some ten minutes or so, putting on a show that only 
the week before I would have given my right arm, leg, most of my 
body and my soul for, but which now only interfered with my 
interaction with David.

They left us alone, except for a now curled up and sleeping 
Stevie, with whispered thanks and apologies for interrupting.  At 
least now the whole gang had been through, and so we were 
expecting no further interruptions.  The knock a short while 
after therefore came as a highly annoying surprise, and enraged 
that they had returned to disturb us again, I flung the door 
wide, yelling 'What now!', outlining my naked frame against the 
well lit interior and making no attempt to hide my upright state.

Mark cowered back from my verbal assault, and stuttered 'I only 
wanted to know if you'd do it again to me' in such a weak and 
terrified voice that my anger melted away.  I also realised what 
I had just done in answering the door in my state of undress, two 
naked boys inside. I ushered Mark in, and locked the door behind 
him, thinking the quickest way to get rid of him was to bring him 
to climax as fast as possible.  He stripped off, still turning to 
hid his groin from us as he did so, then sat waiting on the 
bench.  He tensed as he had the previous time shoulders 
stiffening as I grasped his thick organ. Gently I stroked up and 
down it's length, feeling it harden under my fingers.  The lad 
started to relax under the ministrations, still small shivers of 
muscle spasm coursing through his body as unwelcome thoughts 
impinged occasionally on his enjoyment.  His fear seemed worse 
when I let a finger trace round the half empty ball sac, as if 
afraid I would repeat what must have happened to him a long time 
before, but when I stopped the additional massage, he reached 
down with his hands to make me continue.  I put an arm round his 
shoulders, pulling him close to my side, letting the warmth of my 
body flow into his cold frame.  Much of his shivering seemed to 
be an attempt to overcome old fears, and I tried to let him feel 
the strength of my body support his frailer form.  He turned 
towards me, flinging his arms around my neck, and buried his head 
in my shoulder.  I could feel the hot tears running down his face 
and onto my breast as he bucked with his pelvis into my hand, 
reaching climax.  Holding the sobbing boy, I gentled him, 
whispering 'There, there' and other comforting nothings.  David 
looked on, almost in awe at his companions reactions, and as he 
had before, joined in the comforting and hugging.  It was not 
long before he had joined Stevie in the land of nod, and we laid 
them side by side, to give each other warmth and comfort.

I took David back in my arms, and we started our lovemaking yet 
again.  It was probably the most gentle and sensitive joining 
either of us had ever experienced, and it would be a long time 
before we reached that peak of sensuality again.  Mostly our sex 
would be a fun time, playful and happy, but that night, the 
combined interruptions, and the distress of that other young lad 
had made us thing in a more sober manner, and each touch, each 
caress was made with care and affection.  It was almost as if we 
were trying to outdo each other in paying the most tender court 
to the others needs. Yes, I penetrated that most wonderful hole 
of his, sinking deeper that I had ever before, and with a feeling 
that transcended anything I had experienced with Stevie, and yes, 
after I had filled his rear with my cum, I sucked him to his 
climax, tasting that small offering he gave to me yet again, but 
what we did was minor in the overall way we were seeing things 
then.  Finishing our activities, we rested in one anothers arms, 
just luxuriating in our closeness.

Well, that is about it.  I got all the lads back to their tent 
before reveille, and we spent the rest of the morning packing up 
and cleaning the site for the next lucky Packs of boys.  Vaguely 
I remember wondering if any of them would have anything like the 
adventures we had had, but all to soon we were heading back to 
our homes, waving each lad off as we dropped them in their own 
familiar streets again.  

You may be wondering what happened next, well, that is a whole 
new story.  Suffice to say that David has just gone out, yes, he 
does live with me now, he's in his mid-twenties and has gone out 
with his boy-friend!  We are still as close as ever, just no 
longer have the same taste in sex partners.  Ox works in a local 
garage, and comes over every now and then to say hello, how we 
solved his oversize problem is a saga in itself, but probably not 
of interest to readers of this particular story.  Ivan and Alan 
both moved away shortly after this, with their families.  David 
and I visited Alan in his new home town about five or so years 
ago, and there were high jinks then, I can assure you!  Little 
Stevie, well, you probably saw him on TV when he was about 
fourteen, may even have one of his records.  By the smile on his 
face on the cover, I guess he had found some record producer 
better endowed than even Ox!  Never would have thought such sweet 
music could come from a lad who had such a fixation about being 
fucked.  He is off on some record contract now, half way around 
the world.

Mark, he was a regular visitor to my place, and he eventually 
told me the whole story of his background.  It wasn't easy for 
him, and I don't know if I will ever tell it, or even if I want 
to, but he came along only last week, to show off his new wife 
and their lovely baby son.  He grinned when I suggested the baby 
might hold the worlds record for premature birth, occurring only 
two months after the wedding, but he laughed, and replied that he 
had had to test all his equipment was working before he lumbered 
some lass with him.  It's good to see the change in him, and that 
he is doing so well for himself, but was even more astonished 
when he stated that I was the one to entrust his son to on his 
first camping trip!

So thats the end, which is just as well, as one of the new Cubs 
has just called round for his photography lesson, this week it's 
darkroom techniques, be seeing you!