story codes: M/b, ped, mast-con,

This story is completely fictional, I made the whole thing up! This story contains descriptions of a sexual nature that involve a man and minor. If this subject matter is not for you then don't read it! All characters and situations are fictional; any similarity to real people or events is purely coincidental.

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Please do not publish this story anywhere else without the authors consent.

Lake of Bays

By Ero Writer

Green streaks of unseen trees blurred past the opened windows of Allan Ridley's half-ton truck as he pushed his foot down on the already grounded acceleration. His eyes panning the ditches for a tiny sign that was supposed to say "15". This would signal his arrival to the official start of his annual summer vacation. Usually Allan would drive home to his family's place and spend some time there. This year, however, he felt like something different; something he hadn't done before, and after such a crazy year at work he could think of nothing better than a month of solitude up at the beach. The fifteen was the number to his lot, which would lead him up to the, supposedly, "most amazing cottage ever" by quote of his best friend Cory who had rented the cottage the previous year.

"Would you look at that," Allan whispered to himself as he pulled up in the lot, staring towards his home for the next month.

Shifting into park, Allan pulled the key out of the ignition and slid out of his truck. His eyes were glued to the tremendous sight of what stood before him. There, next to the nice looking cottage, next to a wagon filled with chopped lumber, stood a boy of about ten, wearing a black baseball cap, soaking wet jean shorts, and an equally wet black t-shirt who was peacefully stealing wood from Allan's supply.

"Hey!" Allan shouted sternly, "What are you doing?"

The boy whipped around to face Allan, dropping a few logs to the ground, as his eyes grew in alarm, "I... uh..."

Allan smiled at the boy's lack of words, and walked to the back of his truck to grab a cooler, "If you're gonna be taking my wood you might as well bring some inside for me as well."

"I'm sorry... My mom sent me... I lost the money," the boy's eyes turned to the ground, "Are you gonna call the cops?"

"What? No. I wouldn't call the cops on my neighbours, so long as they fill up my fireplace too," Allan walked up to the boy and placed the cooler on the ground, "What's your name kid?"

The boy's head remained drooped toward the ground as he attempted to muffle a sniffle, "Liam."

"Great to meet you Liam, I'm Allan," Allan bent back down and picked the cooler back up, "Hey, it's cool Liam. You're not in any trouble. It's only wood," Allan swung his head from side to side looking at all the trees around them, "And by the looks of things, we're not exactly going to be running out."

Liam's head rose, and his eyes met with Allan's followed by a slight giggle, "You really not mad?"

"Course not - but I'd love it if you could bring some of that wood in the house for me before you go."

"Okay," smiled the boy as he turned to grab a few logs from the pile behind him.

Allan dropped the cooler on a counter and stepped back to absorb his new surroundings. The cottage itself didn't have much more than any regular cottage would: A couple of small bedrooms, a bathroom, comfortable living space and kitchen. The best part of the cottage was the balcony that stood over a small cliff facing the lake, and a rather beautiful view.

"Where do you want this stuff?" asked Liam, barging into the room like he was being chased by a pack of wolves, startling Allan in the process.

"Geeze kid you scared the snot outta me."

"Oh, sorry," Liam stood quietly for a moment while examining the room, "So... the wood?"

"Yeah um, right. Next to the fireplace, thanks."

Liam crossed the room, towards the large brick fireplace, and dropped the few logs he was carrying as if they were bricks themselves. He then stood back from the fireplace and peered around the cottage, "Nice place."

"Yeah, it's not bad is it," replied Allan, turning to look at the dripping child, "How's the water?"

"It's okay, pretty cold though," Liam bent over and scratched at his knee, "And my beach has a bunch of rocks under the water, so be careful 'cause they hurt."

"Haha, thanks," Allan approached the patio door that led onto the balcony, "Is your cabin close to mine?" he asked while looking back at the small boy.

Liam turned to face Allan, and then walked up to the door beside him, "Yeah, I'm like just passed those trees over there," he explained while pointing to the left, "You can see my dad's speedboat on the dock.

"Oh yeah, cool."

"Yeah, it's pretty fast - do you gotta boat?"

"Nope it's just me and my truck. I'm only renting this place," explained Allan, looking down at Liam's green-brown eyes as they peered out at the lake, "How long is your family here for?"

"The whole summer I think. That's how long we usually stay."

"Lucky bugger," Allan replied in envy, "So what exactly happened that you had to steal my wood anyway?"

Liam smirked slightly, like he was embarrassed, "I forgot I had the money for the wood in my pocket and took a shortcut in the lake. It got all wet, and when I took it outta my pocket it ripped."

"Bummer. You still have the money? Because if you leave it out to dry, you could tape it back together, and it'll be fine."

"I dunno, it was pretty bad," Liam fished around in his pocket and pulled out a clump of coloured paper, "See?"

"Wow... Well, leave it here and I'll see if I can fix it up for you. I'm sure you'll be back for more wood by tomorrow," offered Allan.

"Really?" Liam thought for a moment, looking down at the paper, "You're not gonna steal it are you?"

Allan chuckled and took the money from the boy, "Where would I hide if I did?"

"Good point," decided Liam, "I guess I'll come back tomorrow to see if you fixed it then."

"Cool, and tell your parents not to waste anymore cash on wood, I've got more than enough to go around."

"Yeah, you do got lots don't you?"

"Yeah, I didn't realize it would be quite so much, I already paid for a guy to deliver a pile once a week until I go - so... as it's non-refundable, I might as well use it up."

"Cool," Liam moved towards the door, "But I better get heading. Mom might be getting worried."

"No problem. Great meeting you Liam."

Allan held out his hand towards Liam, as the boy looked up at Allan with a silly smile, "Same," he replied and took the man's hand, "See you tomorrow, and thanks for the wood."

After Liam had left, Allan carefully rolled out the mangled twenty-dollar-bill and left it to dry in a windowsill. He then spent the next hour unpacking and getting things sorted out for his stay.

Once everything was put in order, Allan turned back to the fireplace, at the three tiny logs that Liam had brought in for him, and smiled to himself as he reached into his pocket for his cell phone...

"Hello? Is this David? ...Mm hmm, yeah, would it be possible to have you deliver a truck load of lumber to lot fifteen every Friday for the next few weeks...?"

The following day, Allan had done absolutely nothing productive. He had woken up, brewed some coffee, and curled up on the couch to read; which had been his entire day, and it wasn't until he heard someone knocking at the door that he even considered budging.

"Coming!" he yelled at the impatient pounding from way over on the other side of the room.

Allan peeled himself off of the couch, briefly pausing when he stood up to allow a sudden case of the spins to subside, then made his way to the door. He pulled back the curtain that covered a narrow window beside the cherry coloured slab of wood which made up the entrance, and peered out to see Liam attempting to be patient while waiting for someone to answer his knocking. Allan grinned at the boy, who was wobbling to-and-fro, wearing a white soccer jersey with the number 25 stitched on the chest, and black soccer shorts to match. This time, however, he wasn't wearing a hat which had surprisingly only been hiding a very shortly cut head of light brown hair; Allan could have sworn that the boy would have a tad more hair than he evidently had, but it suited the boy just fine. "Morning Liam," greeted Allan as he opened the door.

Liam looked up at Allan with an awkward expression on his face as he turned back toward the beach at the reddened sky, "Uh... it's evening."

Allan poked his head out of the doorway and peered out at the lake, "Oh, well so it is," Allan chuckled at himself, "What brings you here? Run out of firewood?"

Liam attempted to suck in a smile, "Yeah, that and my parents wanted me to see if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight - we're barbequing chicken and burgers and potatoes and stuff," he listed in one quick breath.

"Wow, umm, I dunno, I don't want to impose," replied Allan, not really worried about putting anyone out, but more so looking for an excuse to remain lazy.

The boy glared up at Allan in confusion, "Impose?"

"Intrude, force, inflict, umm, make your parents think they have to invite me just because I offered free firewood."

"Oh - nah, they're just friendly. There's lots of food too, so it's okay. We'll never be able to eat it anyway," Liam assured the man, "That and we need more wood."

"Haha, well all right," Allan turned back into the cottage, "one second - lemme give you that money back."

"No! I mean it's okay. Mom said to keep it for all the wood you're giving us.

"It's fine, I got lots remember?" Allan assured the boy while handing him the money, "How about this, you keep that in your pocket for safe keeping."

Liam's face perked up as Allan placed the twenty in his hand, "But if Mom finds out I'll get in trouble."

"Well - then tell her it's payment for filling up my fireplace."

With a smile, Liam lifted the bottom of his shirt and slid the money into his pocket, "Thanks Allan."

"No sweat bud - so... what time should I pop by?"

"Now," blurted Liam as his cheeks rose and reddened, "I was supposed to come earlier, but forgot to. It's almost ready now, can you come?"

Allan exhaled in a huff while turning back to the comfy looking sofa, "Yeah, why not?" he decided while bending down to slide on his strap-on sandals.

"Cool, can you pull the wagon?" Liam asked cheekily, and then turned towards the heap of lumber that he had piled on top of his wagon.

Looking at the wagon, then at Liam, Allan laughed and dropped his hand on top of the boy's head and ruffled his short hair, "I knew there was a catch."

Allan followed in behind Liam towards the boy's cottage over a harshly uneven path which caused them both to have to stop and re-pile the wood into the wagon, but roughly ten minutes later than it would have taken them without the wagon, Allan found himself approaching a massive two story cottage that evidently belonged to Liam's family, "Geeze kid, this place is bigger than my real home."

Liam giggled, "It's bigger than my real home too. My dad got it from my granny when she passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. I never really knew her. She died when I was like three," explained Liam, "Hurry up, I think it's ready."

Liam ran ahead towards who Allan assumed to be his father, who was standing in front of a barbeque wearing a "Sexy Cooker" apron that had a cartoon woman printed on its front. The man himself was round, very round; his waist size was probably on par with his height, but he looked to be incredibly friendly, one of those jolly big men that often make great Santa Clauses when the season's in.

"You must be Allan," welcomed the loud, and strangely melodic voice of Liam's father, "I'm Jasper, Liam's dad."

Allan offered his hand to the man, "Nice to meet you Jasper. Thanks for the invitation. I had completely lost track of the day..."

"Yeah, he thought it was still morning!" yelled Liam, as he ran up beside his father and partially wrapped his arms around the large man's waist.

"Yeah," admitted Allan with a slight chuckle, "I did."

Jasper patted his son on the head while slowly prying him away from his body, "Careful Liam, it's hot... Why don't you go grab Allan here a beer or something," Jasper's attention rose to Allan, "You care for a beer Allan? Coke? Orange juice even?"

"A beer would be great, thanks. Can I help with anything?"

Jasper waved his spatula through air, and pointed it towards a large picnic table, "No sir! You're a guest. Guests eat, drink, and be merry. Sit down my friend, enjoy yourself - lots of food, help yourself..." Jasper watched as Allan approached the picnic table where a woman was sitting while staring off at the lake, "Oh, my manors. Allan, that's Joan my wife. Joan! Say hello Joan!"

Joan turned her head back toward her husband then up at Allan, "Hi Allan, nice to meet you." With a distracted smile, Joan's eyes followed Allan as he sat down at the table, but then turned back toward the lake, "I'm sorry Allan," she muttered, "excuse me for a second."

The moment Allan's butt had touched the wood of the bench Joan jumped up from her seat and ran off towards the Lake, "DEVON! MARK! LEAVE YOUR SISTER ALONE!"

Allan jumped up from his seat to stare off towards the beach to see three more children, who were running around with buckets of sand. "Kids." chuckled Jasper as he shook his head, "You have any kids Allan?"

"Nope," replied Allan, swivelling in his seat to face back to Jasper, as Liam returned with his drink, "Haven't gotten to that stage in life yet I suppose."

"Ah, so you're not married," said Jasper.

"Nope. Haven't had that kind of luck," Allan said plainly, trying to pull off a tone that suggested it to be bad luck... "Thanks Liam."

"You're welcome," said Liam with a smile, "Have some food, there's lots!"

Liam passed Allan a plate and then started throwing random selections of food onto it for the man. Allan grinned and held out his hand, "Woah bud, I think that's plenty for round one."

"Oh, sorry," giggled Liam, staring down at the mound of food he had given Allan.

"You play soccer Liam?" asked Allan.

"Yeah, I'm goalkeeper most the time, but I want to be a striker 'cause they get all the action," explained Liam as he filled his own plate.

"That's a big change. You any good?"

"Yeah. I'm best at goalie, but I'm pretty good at striker too. I just don't want to be on defence forever, it's boring."

"No way," Allan argued competitively, "I used to be a centre-back. A team is only as good as its defence."

"I guess," shrugged Liam.

"And goal keeper's the most important job on the field."

"I guess, unless I screw up, and then I get the blame. You still play?"

"Not so much anymore. Did some coaching for a while, but the team died out. Soccer's not the most popular sport."

"We should have a game once we're done!" suggested Jasper as he sat down at the end of the picnic table on a fold out chair.

"Yeah!" Liam agreed excitedly, "But I get to be a striker!"

"But you're so good at goal," Joan said, returning from the beach with the other children, "Okay guys, no climbing our guest!"

Jasper giggled heartily, "You have no idea how literal she means that Allan."

Allan returned a giggle while watching one of Liam's brothers sitting down next to him. The boy, who looked to be a year or two older than Liam, was soaking wet, and covered with sand. His skin was a healthy golden brown, and his form was thin and lean, strange to think that these boys were at all related to their rather large father. They didn't look a think like the man. The boy smiled up at Allan, "Hi, I'm Mark."

"Hey Mark, nice to meet you," replied Allan, holding out his hand.

Mark's smile turned to a grin, "Thanks. So you're our new neighbour?"

"Yup, up until mid August anyway," replied Allan.

"Cool," said Mark in a semi-humoured voice, losing interest in conversation as a plate found its way in front of him.

Almost immediately after everyone had finished eating, Liam and his brothers were already sorting out the 'playing field' for the planned game of soccer. Once they were done, the three boys grabbed Jasper's arms and attempted to remove him from his seat, "Come one boys give me a minute would you? Did you not see how many beers your old man consumed today?" The boys just laughed and tugged at the man some more; until finally, Jasper gave in and climbed to his feet, "Come along Allan. If I gotta, so do you."

The game ended up being men verse boys, which had proven to be a losing battle for Allan. Jasper made a horrible fieldsman, and an equally horrible goalkeeper. Liam, however, was a very strong all around player. His ball handling was much better than most boys that Allan had seen his age, but his defence was his definite strong point which gave Allan a horrific time when he'd manage to get the ball passed his brother Devon, who was acting centre.

Finally, with the score as 15-6 with the boys in the lead, Allan had to resort to other measures. Following the kick-off, instead of Allan ploughing into the ball, he let Devon have it, but the moment the nine-year-old attempted to circle him, Allan swung his arm around the boy and lifted him into the air.

"HEY!" Devon screamed, kicking his limbs out in all directions, "That's cheating!"

"I don't see no ref!" Allan chuckled while placing the boy under his arm and grabbing he ball.

Liam then came in for an attack, as Allan approached him, but the moment his foot met with the leather ball, Allan curled his arm around Liam's waist and lifted him as well, "HEY!" Liam screeched, as his body spun to an upside-down position.

Jasper howled and clapped at Allan's performance, "You show'em Allan! Way-to-go!"

Devon thumped his fists into Allan's stomach, as Liam's legs dangerously flung in all directions around the man's head, and as the man approached Mark who was acting goalkeeper, Mark turned and ran towards the picnic table.

"You chicken Mark!" screamed Liam through his upside-down, red face while shaking his fists.

"Yeah!" shouted Devon, "He ran outta hands!"

Allan paused for a moment, standing directly in front of one of the ordained goal posts, and then gently tapped the ball in. "That doesn't count!" whined Liam, "Cheater!" he giggled, as Allan wobbled the boy in his arms; which was the exact moment, that Allan's vision became engulfed between Liam's upturned, wide legged shorts. At the highly contrasting black, cotton boxer-briefs that were snugly wrapped around the tops of his thighs.

"Put us down!" pleaded Mark, causing Allan to fall back into reality.

"Oh right, sorry," Allan giggled as he released the boys from his hold on them.

The moment Liam was freed he drove his shoulders into Allan's legs, wrapping his arms around the man's thighs, and his head between his legs. Allan screamed and flailed his arms in the air as Mark jumped up and pulled back on his shoulders, and before Allan was able to register what was happening, Mark and Liam were both sitting on his chest as he lay, conquered, on the ground.

"I uh... I guess you boys win huh," Allan grinned up at Mark, who was sitting in front of his face with his legs straddled on either side of him. Allan tried not to, but realistically, it was the only place that he could look, and found his eyes trailing off into the, still wet, legs of the boy's shorts, and at the slight vision of blue briefs with some form of orange print on them. "You're right we won!" Mark declared while poking his finger against the centre of Allan's forehead.

"All right boys, let him up," demanded Jasper, thinking he was coming to Allan's rescue, "Time to get ready for bed. It's getting late."

"Aw Dad," whined Devon, "Can't we stay up and tell ghost stories again?"

Jasper sighed heavily, "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow if you guys ALL go to bed peacefully tonight." The boys then reluctantly dragged their feet back inside of the cottage, and Jasper helped Allan up to his feet, "Sorry, I didn't come sooner - It all happened so fast."

"No prob. The only harm done was Marks wet shorts on my chest," said Allan in a snicker as he brushed some sand off of the round butt print that hand soaked into his shirt.

"Oh my, that's special," teased Joan when she saw Allan's shirt.

"I know right?"

"What do you say Allan," started the heavy voice of Jasper, "One more beer before bed?" Allan smiled, and accepted another drink from Jasper, then sat down in a lawn chair.

"Good night Allan!" screamed the sudden voice of Liam from the cottage's balcony on the second floor.

Allan grinned, looking up at the boy standing in his baggy looking Spiderman pyjamas, and waved back at Liam, "Goodnight bud!"

"He really likes you for some reason," announced Jasper, who was half keeping conversation, and half perving on his wife's rump as she tidied up the picnic table.

"Oh yeah?" was all Allan could think to say in reply.

"Sure. He's usually quite withdrawn. What's the word... inverted?"

Allan accidently inhaled a mouthful of beer as a result of Jasper's chosen word. "Jasper..." started Joan, "You mean introverted dear."

Jasper looked over at his wife, "Oh yes, that's it! Introverted!" he then stopped to ponder on the word he had used, "Haha, Liam's not a queer - I hope."

"Jasper, cut it out," moaned Joan, "Don't say queer. It's such a derogatory term."

"My wife's got two queer brothers," Jasper giggled, then blinked plainly at Joan who was staring right through him, "Joan, I'm sorry. You know I don't mean it... I have no problem with your brothers. They're great guys, and I love queers, they make wonderful cookies."

Allan couldn't help himself and started to laugh. Which caused Joan to huff at men's immaturity in general, and she drifted off into the house.

"I'm in trouble now," Jasper chuckled. "Well, I'm off to bed. Pleasure meeting you Allan, you've been great fun tonight," the large man rolled himself out of his chair and onto his knees, "Come over whenever - we've always got lots of food to go around."

The next morning, Allan had just sat down on the couch with a promising new book, and a rather large cup of coffee, when he heard the clanking of falling lumber from outside. Allan grinned mischievously, and jumped from the couch towards the kitchen where he had stashed his handy-dandy wasp killing gun, which was actually just a large water gun that he'd fill with gasoline instead of water just in case there happened to be a nest around the cottage. Of course, in the several years he had the super soaker, he never had the chance to use it. Now, the thought, was as perfect a time as any, but instead of dousing the poor boy in gasoline... he'd use water instead.

Tearing the gun out of its box, Allan spun off the cap and lowered it under the tap, while giggling the entire time, and then ran off towards the door. He crawled underneath the narrow window next to the door, and peeled back its curtain to peer outside. There, next to an empty wagon, was Liam who was very slowly piling one long at a time. Allan pumped the gun as much as its plastic canister could handle, and then cautiously reached for the door handle; it squeaked just enough to startle the man, and then he gently pulled it open.

"AHHHH!" screamed Allan at the top of his lungs as he rolled out of the door across the deck while drenching the boy in a very thin stream of water.

"Hey!" Liam shrieked, swatting at his back and whipping around, "What are you doing?"

"I'm super soaking you..." explained Allan as the stream of water trickled down to nothing.

Liam's face grew a huge grin while he slid his hands down his wet arms, "Your gun really sucks."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't use it on the wasps," replied Allan, sitting on the deck with his legs spread out as he examined the mechanics of his gun, "What a rip off. This thing cost me fifty bucks."

"Wow, yeah you got screwed," teased Liam, "So what you doing today?" he asked curiously as he approached Allan.

Allan thought for a moment, still examining his gun, and then looked up at Liam, "Not much. I was just going to read a book, but then I saw you grabbing some more wood."

"So you decided to shoot me?" asked Liam behind a pouty looking face.

"Yeah," Allan said through a proud smile.

"But I thought we were friends... Friends don't shoot friends," explained Liam.


"Yeah, really."

Allan bit the insides of his cheeks to suppress a grin then 'accidently' pulled the trigger, "Oh! OH! Sorry friend." Liam's jaw dropped, and he spun backwards while trying to block the spray with his hands.

"You Jerk! Give me that!" demanded Liam as he plunged his weight down on the man.

"Hey! Ouch!" whined Allan, as he rolled across the deck with Liam on top of him, and both of their hands wrestling for the gun.

"Come on! Give it!" screamed Liam, shaking his arms back and forth.

"Or what!?"

"Or... I'll... Give it!"

"Oh that was goooood," Allan teased while he, too, shook his hands against the gun.

Suddenly a loud *CrUNkEAk* sound emerged from between them. Followed by a strange *GA-Looomp* and immediately after, they were both covered in water.

"Holy crap," said Liam in a tone of shock, "What did you do?"

"Me?" Allan started defensively, "That was all you!" he chuckled.

"Nuh uh! You're the one with the monster hands!" Liam retaliated, while jumping up off of Allan to try to push off some of the water.

"Nuh Hah!" cried Allan, who then froze.

Liam's eyes whipped themselves to face Allan where he then screamed out in an uproar of giggles, "Oh God!" Liam heaved, "You..." he gasped, "...sounded just like a..." he snorted violently then fell into an even greater hysteria of giggles.

Allan clapped his hands together heavily and flung himself back into a roll on the deck as he too began to laugh uncontrollably, "Dude! I may sound like a donkey, but you sound like a pig!"

Liam fell to his knees and let his forehead thud against the deck's surface, "Shut up!" he whined, then suddenly shot up straight, "I need your bathroom!"

Allan glared up at the boy and the look of urgency on his face and laughed harder "Go ahead," Allan rolled onto his side holding his guts, "End of hall."

Liam sprung to his feet with his hands pressed firmly between his legs, and bolted for the door. Once the boy was out of sight, Allan felt himself start to calm down, but then he heard the still steady giggles of Liam echoing through the opened window of the bathroom, followed by a snort, heavier laughing, another snort, and finally a deep bellied fart; which of course led to even louder cackling.

"Geeze kid," yelled Allan, trying to climb to his feet, "Light a match when you get out, phew." Allan then heard Liam's giggling turn to a higher pitch, followed by an even heavier snort.

"Shut up!"

Wandering into the house, Allan made his way to the fridge to get a drink, "Want something to drink!?"



"Orange anything?" replied Liam, entering the Kitchen.



Allan reached and pulled a canned drink for Liam and a bottled water for himself then turned towards the couch and fell down on it. "Wow kid you crack me up."

Liam popped open his drink then sat down on the arm rest of the couch, "Me? That was you!"

"Okay, let's not start - I don't want you soaking my couch if you don't make it to the can."

"Hey!" cried Liam, "I'm empty now!"

"Oh you are, are you?"

"Yeah, and it's all over your floor too," Allan turned his head and looked up at the boy, "Gotcha!"

"That's not funny!" whined Allan, "Cleaning up piss isn't my favourite thing in the world to do."

"Well, you haven't cleaned up my pee," said Liam, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Oh? And what's so special about it?"

"It's drop dead sexy," sung Liam, while rolling his fingers against his shirt, over his nipple.

Allan reached out and poked the boy in his side. Liam's throat expelled a loud groan then fell forward towards his knees, and rolled onto his back, onto the couch cushion. Allan gazed over at the boy: his legs were crouched into a ball against his chest as his arms cradled his drink between his knees. He was wearing light blue, very faded, jean shorts, and a white t-shirt; with a large, red smile on his face.

"What?" inquired Liam, staring back at Allan.

"Oh, nothing."

"Then what were you looking at?"


Liam's eyebrow raised slightly, "Why?"

"Dunno. Probably because your cute," Allan replied honestly.

"Cute? Cute how? Kid cute or drop dead sexy cute?" he snickered jokingly.

Allan attempted his greatest Fat Bastard impression, "Drop dead sexy cute."

"Oh yeah?"

"Haha, yeah."

"Thanks," Liam smiled, and then rolled upward so that he was sitting up straight to place his drink on a side table, "So what book are you reading?"

"Scared," replied Allan, allowing himself to soak into the couch.

"What's it about?"

"A bunch of genetically engineered convicts that were trained by the military as weapons, and then dropped in a small town to torture everyone."

"Sounds cool," said Liam, leaning to the ground to pick up the book, "Is this it?"


Liam slouched back into the couch, and let his shoulders sink into the cushion, "Can you read it to me?"

"Can't you read?" Allan asked honestly.

"Of course I can. I just like to be read to, that's all," explained Liam, handing the paperback over to Allan.

"I guess I could, but I doubt we'll finish it in one day. It's quite long, and I don't think your parents would like you staying here that long. That and I doubt my voice can speak that much at one time."

"It's okay. You can just read a chapter or two a day. I've got all summer."

"All right then. If you really want me to," Allan took the book from Liam's hand and sat up, and looking over at the boy, "You serious?"


"Okay..." Allan opened the book and flipped to the first page, and started to read. Liam scooted himself against Allan's side to watch him read, and Allan's arm automatically fell over the boy's shoulder.

After the first ten pages, Liam had devised a great system. All Allan had to do was hold the book and read, and Liam would follow along and flip the page for him so that he wouldn't have to shuffle his arm around between every page. However, as Allan continued to read, and the boy cuddled into him even more, he became aware that his hand had been resting near the boy's crotch, and after that, no matter how hard Allan tried, he kept losing sight to where he was reading. His attention kept diverting itself down to his hand, and how close it was to Liam's treasure centre. The boy's hand was lazily lying over Allan's stomach, and his left leg was sprawled over Allan's right while his head rested itself snugly against the man's chest, next to his armpit.

Allan didn't know what else to do other than force his hand away from his distractions, so he slid his hand upward and placed it over the boy's lower stomach; where his fingers automatically began to circle around his bellybutton, over the boy's shirt. Liam rolled his cheek into the man's side, and leaned back against his arm. Soon, Allan had managed to maintain control of his reading. It wasn't as hard as it was before, now that his hand had something constructive to do.

Liam's fingers slid down Allan's arms, trailing through its short hairs, and stopped at his wrist where the boy then wove his fingers in between b Allan's. Enclosing his hand, Liam lifted Allan's, and brought it in front of his face. Allan felt his fingertips sliding across the bridge of the boy's nose, and then down his cheeks. Allan stopped reading, and looked down at whatever the boy was doing. Liam just smiled up at him with the most innocent smile he had ever seen.

Allan then felt his hand sliding over the boy's chest, where it stopped at his stomach. Liam's other arm then moved to lift up the bottom of his shirt, Allan's reading momentarily ceased as he admired the boy's faintly tanned skin, and then Liam placed the man's fingers against his bare stomach. Warmth surged through every nerve of Allan's hand, and spread throughout his body as Liam removed his grip on the man and Allan's fingers resumed control over themselves. His fingers slid back and forth, then in circles around the boy's naval. Liam smiled up at Allan then snuggled back into the man's side.

Staring down at the boy's tummy, Allan's eyes became glued to the boy's waist. Liam hadn't worn a belt, and his jeans were loosely hanging from his hips, exposing the entire black strap of his underwear. Allan's fingers were drawn towards it, like an ant to a picnic. The thin, smooth feel of the fabric caused Allan's heart to spin in his chest and crash down heavily against his stomach. He then began to circle his thumb over the warmth of Liam's stomach, as his fingers slowly felt their way below the boy's waistband. The fabric was incredibly thin. It almost had an elastic feel, kind of stretchy. Which probably meant the material was probably a cotton and nylon blend. Liam turned the page, reminding Allan that he had in fact been reading after all. It was strange how his mind could be so transfixed on something else, but could remain doing its original task. Allan, however, didn't brew on that thought too long, and instead allowed himself to enjoy the feel of the bump of the boy's stitched fly on his underwear.

Allan then found his hand, acting on its own, following the hem downward. The top of his knuckle quickly came into contact with the waist of the boy's jeans, which was when Allan thought it best to try his luck there first. His hand rose, and his fingers cautiously followed, as he slowly slid his fingertips over the button of Liam's jeans, and farther down the thick material. Liam turned the page once more, and quickly snuggled himself back into the reading man. Allan's fingers slid upward, over a curved bump of the boy's jeans, and then sloped downward into a small, grooved fold. He inched his fingers forward carefully. The next rise of the fabric was the final rise to where he planned to go. His fingertips rolled across the dense material, then slowly spread outward as his palm gently lowered itself against it. His eyes flickered from the page for a moment to verify where his hand was, without disappointment. A nervous smirk crossed his face, as Liam turned yet another page.

Gently pressing his palm downward, Allan allowed his fingers to curl inward at the same time, but stopped the moment he felt a sudden warmth against the tip of his middle finger. After what seemed like an eternity of thought, Allan pushed his finger inward, and gently let it circle once. There was definitely something there, but Liam wasn't showing any signs of, anything. He then allowed bravery to seep into his mind as he held his breath and slowly enclosed his hand. For the most part, Allan wasn't where he had presumed himself to be, but just a little farther down, his hand made contact with something undeniably real, which also made Liam shift around a bit.

Becoming nervous, Allan slid his hand back to Liam's stomach, where he spent the next ten or so minutes caressing the silky feel of the boy's stomach, but the moment his fingers made contact with the waistband of the boy's black underwear he knew he had to try again.

Sliding his finger on top of the elastic border, Allan slowly slid his hand downward, until his fingers made contact with the soft, thin fabric of his underwear. Allan's mind flashed back to when he was playing soccer with Liam. When he had picked the boy up and hung him upside down; to the fallen legs of his shorts, and the wonderful sight of the boy's black boxer-briefs. His hand was then guided by his memories, by what he had so yearned to do since the previous day, since the day he first saw Liam for that matter, and slid down into the boy's shorts a lot quicker than he had originally planned.

Allan's hand wrapped itself over the boy's centre, and he automatically gave it a gentle squeeze. Liam's head turned upward an looked to Allan with an awkward smirk across his face, but instead of running and screaming, snuggled himself back into the man's side, and placed his hand over Allan's, just above his shorts.

Liam squeezed against Allan's hand then looked up at him, "Do you like me?"

Allan felt a lump burrow its way down his throat, "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno. Just wondering," replied Liam in a faint whisper. "Do you want me to take off my shorts?"

Allan was left speechless, and resorted to nodding his head. Liam leaned forward, pulling the man's hand from its grasp, and pulled off his shirt. Allan stared down at the boy's bare upper half, and watched as Liam climbed to his feet and turned around. His shorts hung low around his waist, and his black underwear poked out from his shorts. Allan's eyes explored the boy's body, his tiny innie-navel, cool toned skin, and thin but pert frame.

Liam's fingers rose towards the button of his jeans, but were stopped by Allan's, "Can I?"

Liam nodded, and moved his hands to his sides as the man sat up and stretched out his arms. Allan's thumb pinched against the button, and his fingers curled over the hem as his other hand found the pin of the boy's fly and slowly pulled it down. He then twisted the button upward and slid it through the tiny hole, where he then gently folded the material back, revealing the boy's black underpants. Allan's hands slid under the parted fabric of the boy's jeans and cradled the boy's hips as his shorts fell to the floor. Liam's boxer-briefs hugged his body comfortably, allowing for every curve of his hidden body to be seen. Allan pulled the boy closer to him, gliding his hands around to the boy's backside, and over his round bottom allowing his fingers to caress its gentle separation. With a smile, Liam stepped closer, in between Allan's legs, and allowed the man's hands to travel back across his hips.

Allan's eyes refused to blink as he stared at the boy's front, where a tiny curve protruded from underneath the fabric. His fingers slid around its circumference then gently squeezed the slowly stiffening object. Liam leaned in towards Allan as the man's fingers began to massage his growing length while Allan's mind struggled to come to terms with what he was doing, but his heart showed no signs of waiting. The very moment the boy's excitement seemed to have reached its maximum girth, pointing straight up to his bellybutton, Allan's hands braced the boy's hips then slid around to his backside. His hands turned downward, and his fingers slid underneath the thin fabric, gliding downward, around the boy's plump buttocks while his thumbs hooked themselves on the outside of his waistband. Liam's body flooded with shivers as the man's cool fingers began to warm themselves on his bare skin while he followed Allan's eyes which were struggling to absorb every possible angle of his form.

The fabric slid downward, hugging against the base of Liam's obstacle, as Allan lowered the material below the rising curves of the boy's bottom. Liam giggled at the sight of the 'V' shaped fabric which still covered his excitement from the man's gaze, until Allan's fingers swept back around him, and released its taunting grip the let the boy's thin garment fall to the floor. A lustful grin consumed Allan's face as he stared in awe at the boy's centre: his thin, firm excitement - no more than a few inches long, and his tight, hugging pouch grasping proudly to the boy's body.

"Your hands are cold," giggled Liam, as Allan's fingers wrapped around his erection.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Allan removed his hand then curled it to his lips where he slowly blew the warmth of his breath against it. Liam smiled and climbed up onto the couch, kneeling between Allan's legs, pressing the palm of his right hand into Allan's crotch, "You got one too."

"Yeah, I do," replied Allan while running his hand through the boy's short hair. "Can I see it?"

Allan thought for a moment, "You could, but it's not as beautiful as yours."

Liam blushed, but then lowered the man's zipper anyway, "I'll be the judge of that."

The boy unbuttoned the man's pants, and pulled them open. Reaching for the strap of Allan's boxers, and then slid it down as well, "It's pretty big - compared to mine anyway."

"Yeah, I guess it is," replied Allan through a sigh as Liam's fingers wrapped around him.

Liam rolled his legs onto either side of Allan's, pressing their excitement together, as Allan's hands slid over the boy's bottom to pull him closer. The boy's stiffness twitched against his own, as Allan's fingers gently dipped between Liam's cheeks, then spread them apart. A slight whimper escaped Liam's throat when the tightness of his backside was suddenly stretched out, causing his body to rock back and forth against the man's hold while pushing his face into Allan's chest.

Massaging his fingers into the boy's soft, spongy bottom, Allan felt his body gaining control over his mind. His fingers explored Liam's soft, secret skin, while cautiously circling his unseen centre. However, before much more could be done, the familiar tingle of his grand finale began to taunt at his insides, "Oh no... oh - no..."

Liam's gazed turned up to face Allan, "What?"

"I'm..." Allan's words became lost in lisp as his entire body began to seize and spasm. His hands pulled the boy as close to his body as physically possible, while his fingers frantically searched for boy's wondrous opening.

Sudden warmth, with a strange pressure, spread across Liam's abdomen, and dripped down to his groin. Their bodies became slick with an odd velvety sensation, causing Liam to slide his arousal against the man at a greater speed.

Allan began to giggle, and his body randomly twitched about as his nerves became oversensitive. Liam looked up at the man in confusion, "What?"

"Nothing, sorry. It just feels really ticklish after I, umm, shoot."

"Oh," Liam leaned back and looked down between them, "I forgot. It's okay, we can do it again later."

"For real?" asked Allan, behind a deviant grin.

"Well yeah, you still have to finish that book," he grinned back.

Allan pulled the boy's head against his chest, and wrapped his arms around him, "What page were we on? Do you remember?" he asked, looking down at the fallen paperback.

"Sixteen," replied Liam, scratching his forehead over Allan's shirt.

Allan smiled, and sunk back into the couch. His mind was forced back to its normal working order as he pondered on the probable time it would take them to finish the book at their current speed, 'Sixteen into four-hundred... is twenty-five', his smile grew, "twenty-five, my lucky number."

Ero Writer