Date: 23 Sep 1998 05:27:37 -0700 From: poondu@members.gayweb.com Subject: Another Boy Learning to Swim Another Boy Learning to Swim by Thole This one was not my favourite shape or quality--camp nor boy. The land was too close to the highway, you could see through the fence the cars speeding by though their occupants could not see us watching them through the woods. The place is wooded, hilly, a couple of streams, gravel roads, and most interesting, has a different rule regarding nudity and towels: nudity is optional, but towels are not required. The result of this is that most of the kids stayed nude here while in many other camps kids wear shorts because it is easier than dragging around a towel to sit on. The place is crowded though the surrounding wood has some fair hiking and riding trails albeit some parts of the trails are in view of the local road or the interstate. In was in one such place I met this boy. I'd seen him around the pool, but not in it, and in the playground, riding his bike. A smallish boy, close cropped hair, wore glasses, shorts, sneakers. There were a few other kids, all younger, more often in the pool, so he seemed to be pretty much alone but also aloof. He was just about the only one of his set with anything on. I explored around the first day, rode my bike on the trails, looked at the wells, played chicken along the edge of the roads, watched the kids, sunned at the pool. This particular boy never came into the pool, at least I never saw him there and the pool rules require kids to swim with a buddy and an adult must be present. On Saturday I started out to walk the trails, barefoot as is my wont and of course here at this camp bare assed as well. It occured to me that it is a lot safer to spend money on membership to such a place as this than it is to risk it in the porn market. Then it occured to me that I'm not interested in porn anyhow, most of that stuff is perverse anyhow. But a love of boys in all their glory--how can that be anything but right and beautiful and best in real life. The boy was laying on his back, along a log over a slough, his legs hanging down on either side, one arm shielding his eyes from the shaft of brilliant sunlight, his other arm helping his hand with the erection that nine year-olds find so fascinating. The roar of traffic not two hundred feet away covered my approach. Anyone walking along the breakdown lane could have espied this lovely sight but tho I could see the faces of passengers in the cars going past they were all going too fast to see the boy even if they were to be looking down along the stream. When I was close enough for him to hear me over the traffic a snapping twig alerted him and he sat up abruptly, nearly falling into the stream. He was not wearing his glasses and I guess for him the forest was a blur of green and shadows--he could not see me. --Are you a deer, he asked? I'm not afraid, he said. Now I could see his bike, shorts and glasses piled on the rack, in the woods at the end of the log as he started to inch his way towards them so I stepped out of the shadows and sat on the end of the log, in his way, where he could see me. --You're the visitor guy, he said, I seen you watching me on the swings. May I sit and chat with you, I asked? --Don't look at me now please, he begged as he tried to grip the log with his slender thighs and cover his crotch with both hands, look the other way. But you are so beautiful, why must I look away? --Do you really think I'm beautiful? Well, if you prefer I could say handsome since you are a boy but you are more like an angel and angels are beautiful. --But I'm naked, he said. And all the more beautiful because of it, I said. I turned back to him and worked my way out til our knees touched. give me your hands, I said, and he did and I held them away on each side of us. You have nothing to be ashamed of my dear little angel, your hardon only adds to your beauty. Stand up and let me look at all of you. He stood on the log while I held his hand. His balance was good and he turned around slowly just inches away. We worked our way back off the log towards his bike but when he went to don his shorts I asked if he would stay naked, to keep me company, to show everyone he was no longer afraid. Let's go to the pool I suggested. --I can't swim, he interrupted. I'll teach you how, I said, I'll hold you up and help you. I held him up in the water with one hand under his crotch, cupping the essence of his boyhood, as he practiced the crawl and gained confidence with kicking. I held him close to my chest, one hand under his shoulders, the other under his bum, and as he floated on his back I thumbed his crack. Relax I said, let your arms hang down, and his hand brushed against my cock and he gave it a quick squeeze. By evening he could swim tolerably well, good enough to join in the games of the other kids tomorrow. But in the meantime? --You've really helped me a lot, he said. I can swim now and I'm not afraid or ashamed to be naked now. What can I do to repay you? Let me count the ways, I thought... -30-