Date: Mon, 02 Apr 2001 17:56:37
From: Ganymede
Subject: Pandora's Box V

Pandora's Box V,  by Ganymede and Christopher.


WARNING:

This story contains a graphic description of sexual acts
between a man and a MINOR boy. We do not condone child abuse,  how-
ever boy-love as described in this story is an entirely  different
matter. If the subject of man/boy sex offends you, if this material
is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the
legal age for such material, do not read further! You have been
warned! Read at your own risk!

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy
has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. Feel free
to post it to appropriate newsgroups or send it to your friends. The
story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. It cannot be placed in
archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed
in any form that requires payment.

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FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in
your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your
thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!


Pandora's Box V. Saturday Mid day


I stayed in my private dreamland for hours, asleep and undisturbed
except for the occasional voices that filtered through the hedge. I
decided that I did not like the Rowland twins. They bickered with
their mother almost constantly. Neither did I like my cousin, David.
I could not believe my ears when I heard him tell the twin's brother
to `get fucked' when he asked to borrow the inflatable couch for a
while. However, I was happy. I turned from side to side and front to
back to make sure that my tan was evenly distributed. When I lay on
my back I placed my legs wide apart so that my genitals were seared
by the intense life-giving energy. That felt especially nice. I
stayed there until I heard Joel's voice on the other side of the
hedge. Then, with my thong back in place, I came out of hiding.

"Wow, look at you," Joel said as soon as he saw me reappear.
"You're tanned already."

"Getting there," I grinned.

"Where've you been? I've been all over looking for you," Joel
said effusively. "Did you know that Uncle Steven has a Lamborghini?
And an Aston Martin, too?"

I shrugged. I did not know very much about cars, but Joel
seemed to. "What kind?" I asked.

"Well, the Lamborghini is a Diablo. It's red, of course. They
almost always are. It's one of the world's fastest cars. It's even
faster than a Ferrari F40 I think."

I nodded wisely. "And the Aston?" I prompted. I supposed that
it was probably a good idea that I knew stuff like this.

"It's a DB7 Volante. It's not all that fast, like 160, but it's
a really sexy sports car," Joel answered enthusiastically. "I'd love
to go for a drive in it. My dad's just got a boring old Lexus, and my
mom drives a crummy Beamer. Just about everyone I know has one of
them," he added.

I grinned. "You really like cars, huh?"

"Yeah. I do, I guess. He's got a Porsche too, a brand new one,
but you see them everywhere in New York."

"We came from the airport in Uncle Steven's Rolls," I said mat-
ter-of-factly.

"You did? Wow! We came by taxi and my mom was fuming the whole
way. Hey, Chris, do you want to go swimming?" he asked abruptly.

Joel was dressed in a pair of white linen shorts, the loose
kind that fat kids wear so they don't look so fat. An adult would
have said that his legs looked like boiled lobsters. There was a
three inch around his chubby knees because his shorts did not come
down as far as his swimming trunks. He also wore a polo shirt, bulg-
ing on each side with what would have been breasts if he was a girl.
I wanted to go swimming and of the three choices I had, he offered
the best one. The only problem was that he would have to get changed
first and I was ready to swim.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Come with me while I get my swim suit on, will you?" he asked
awkwardly.

"Okay," I said. It might be interesting to see what his room
looked like.

On the way, we passed Cynthia. She was dressed in a flowered
skirt with a white halter top that came so low that I could see she
wasn't wearing a bra. Her eyes lowered, almost bashfully, yet star-
ing directly at my thong. She made a sneering sound in her nose. I
smirked back at her. It was no skin off my nose what she thought.

As soon as we were inside the house, Joel turned to me. "Cyn-
thia is such a bitch."

We giggled and Joel ran down the corridor that led to his room,
with me in close pursuit. He opened the door and closed it behind me
when we were both inside. His room was much like the room that I was
sharing with my mother. It was large, but the furnishings were not
as expensive. There were two pictures, prints of the desert, both by
O'Keeffe, who I knew was one of the famous women artists of the American
Southwest. I much preferred our room to his. He walked across to the
windows and made an elaborate gesture to pull the curtains across.
The flower theme of the prints was continued in the curtains. It
made for a colorful room. He turned back and smiled shyly as he
dragged his polo shirt up and managed to extricate his head through
a hole that was too small without undoing all the buttons at the
neck.

"Well," he began. He hesitated and stared down at his feet. His
fingers clenched and unclenched like he was very nervous. I smiled
blandly, wondering how long this was going to take. At the rate we
would be in his room until lunch time.

"Do you want to see mine?" he finally blurted out.

"Your what?"

Again, my naïveté shone through. Joel had a nauseatingly gig-
gle. It sounded like he was nervous.

"You know, Chris. Down there!" he said with a puerile smirk and
a pointed finger towards his groin. "Do you want to see my wiener?"

I shrugged, somewhat confused why another boy would want me to
see his penis. The very idea was bizarre, but it was also exciting.
I was not sure what, but I was about to say something when Joel
interrupted my confused thoughts.

"If I do, then you have to show me yours."

Then he giggled again, and left his proposition to ferment in
my mind. I swallowed and regarded him with detachment. There was no
harm in his seeing my penis, just as there was no harm in me seeing
his. The only problem I had, indeed the source of reservation, was
that I had never done it before. I had never deliberately exposed
myself to another boy, and by the same argument, no one had done the
reciprocal act with me. Not even Paul Saunders, and he was my best
friend. Certainly, I had peeked in the toilets when we stood in a
line at the urinals along the wall. What boy does not hazard a down-
ward glance to see what other boys are like there. However, that was
all.

The distressing thing was the thrill of anticipation what began
to run through me. It was very strong. I swallowed and shyly nodded.
I wanted to see what Joel Meier looked like there, and for an
equally overpowering reason, I wanted him to see mine.

"You do?" Joel asked incredulously.

I nodded again, this time a little more boldly. "Yeah, I guess.
If you do."

My voice was scratchy, almost husky, and it troubled me because
it didn't sound like voice at all. I watched Joel's smile widen. His
eyes fixed on mine.

"I didn't think,... I mean I hoped you would and all, but I
really didn't think you would. You're so cool and everything."

"Me?" I asked tentatively.

"You're so beautiful. I don't even know why you're my friend."

I shrugged impassively. Joel fumbled at the button below his
bulging belly. His hand shook when he finally got it undone. He
tried to open his zipper but it was stuck as the front of his shorts
parted. Bashfully, he turned around and faced the curtains. I
watched his back as he endeavored to open the recalcitrant zipper.
After a minute, his shorts came loose and he tugged them down until
they were able to fall down his legs. He wore patterned boxers. I
waited nervously for those to come off. His buttocks were large and
pale and even from where I stood, I could see tiny pink pimples over
both cheeks.

He turned around, with both of his hands cupped under to his
belly. He was red-faced.

"Now you, Chris," he muttered before he giggled again.

It was vaguely amusing, standing there, looking at each other.
Joel was stark naked except for his sandals. His body was sunburned
with the exception of his pasty pudgy lower belly and thighs. He
looked a bit like the Pilsbury dough-boy after a day at the beach. I
could barely discern his penis. It was certainly no larger than mine
and it was partially concealed by his plump groin, so it was almost
non existent. At last, a boy with a penis smaller than mine.

"You have to, too," he reminded me.

My response was to pull my little thong to the side and let my
penis and testicles protrude from the side.

"Take it all the way off," he instructed. "That's the deal,
Chris."

Was there a deal? I supposed there was in a way. It was a
trade. His for mine. Warily, I complied. It wasn't like being naked
around the pool while I suntanned. This was deliberate, and it had
something to do with sex, except I was not sure what it was.

"You are so beautiful," Joel said, emphasizing every word like
it was his last.

I shrugged and tried my best to keep a straight face. Finally,
I started to giggle.

"What's so funny? Joel challenged.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," I said as seriously as I could.

However, as we stood there staring at each other, our eyes
focused on each other, on that one important part that makes a boy a
boy, I could barely see his. My smile appeared again despite my best
efforts to stop it.

"Okay, what it is?" Joel asked. "Is it because I'm fat?"

"No," I said quickly. "My best friend looks like you."

I hoped that was enough to show that I had no problems with him
being fat.

"You've seen his wiener?" Joel assumed. He looked happier.

I shook my head. I had only peeked at it in the toilet at school
and peeking at a boy's wiener was not the same as actually looking
at it.

"Your's is different to mine," Joel added. "Is that what you're
laughing about?"

"Yeah, sort of," I agreed with relief. "I still have my skin."

"Huh?"

"My skin on the end. All boys have it when they're born but
most get it cut off before they leave the hospital. MY mom wanted me
to keep mine, so I still have it."

"All Jews are circumcised," Joel expounded. "My Dad told me why
once but I forgot."

"It doesn't matter," I grinned as I tried out the playground
word. "It's still a dick."

"Yeah, it's still a cock," Joel added with boyish glee at using
dirty words. "It still feels good."

"Your cock is smaller than mine," I announced bravely.

"It isn't." Joel giggled. "It's just how it is. It's bigger
than yours and I can prove it."

"How?" I asked innocently.

"We lie on my bed and we make them bigger," Joel replied art-
lessly. "You want to do that?" he added with another nauseating gig-
gle.

"I guess," I said reservedly.

Joel took a couple of paces and bounced on the bed. The springs
complained loudly. He crawled over a few feet to make room for me.
He smirked knowingly. I thought I knew what was coming next but I
wasn't sure. I stepped out of my thong and slowly ambled to the bed.
I sat down next to him.

"Do you know how to make yours bigger?" Joel inquired as his
plump fingers began to massage his small penis.

Up close there was not much more than the head that I could
see. There was a frilly band around the head, that reminded me of
the lace neck attire of some of the women that Van Eyck painted in
the sixteenth century. His scrotum was also hard to see because it
was hidden by his thighs.

"Uh huh," I answered bravely.

I was excited although my penis had not yet responded. I
watched him laying there on his side, playing with his penis. I had
a nagging desire to touch it. A few times I had the same desire to
touch Paul's penis, but I had never even seen him naked.

"Let's do it together," Joel suggested brightly. "That way we
don't have to measure. We can just put them side by side and see
whose is the biggest."

"Okay," I said.

I sat in my butterfly position where I could see Joel and he
could see me. Something told me that seeing each other was an impor-
tant part of what we were doing. I started caressing my penis,
barely touching it, yet it was more than enough. I could feel it
growing under my fingers, stretching out and become harder as it
shrugged off its sun-induced stupor. It only took a minute before we
were both erect. Had there been a bet, I would have lost. By more
than an inch! A whole inch and a half! When it was limp, Joel's
penis was sort of tucked inside him. It was more than just being
hidden by his chubby groin. Somehow it was actually retracted inside
him. He kept pulling on the rounded pink knob on the end, and it
kept getting longer. As it started to get stiff, it expanded even
further. It ended up nearly four inches long and surprisingly thick
so that it looked like a stubby wedge instead of a finger, like
mine. When we compared, my penis had suddenly become pitifully
small. It stood up proudly, and it tried its best to reach Joel's
groin when we finally faced off and pointed out penises at each
other to validate our size claims. It fell a long way short. Joel
could sense my humiliation.

"Your dick is so cute," he giggled. "I wish I had one like it
with the skin on the end."

"Like I wish I had one as big as yours," I said glumly. Every boy
who I had ever peeked at, had a penis larger than mine.

"Can I touch yours?" Joel asked hesitantly.

I glanced at him. I shivered as the idea took hold. I have only
thought about doing it. I had never acted on the idea. I could only
guess what it might feel like. I nodded slowly.

"Let me touch yours first, and then you can touch mine," he
offered gratuitously.

Without giving me any opportunity to change my mind, he reached
out and stroked my penis. I shivered again. He giggled and raised
his eyebrows, hoping that I had enjoyed it enough to allow him to do
it again. My head moved without thinking. His hand approached,
slower this time, more deliberately. His fingers gently brushed over
the short hard length and I tensed, trying not to tremble.

"The skin on yours is way softer than mine," Joel muttered.

I giggled. I could see no reason why the skin on mine would be
any different to the sin on his penis. Instinctively, I reached out
to find out for myself. His penis was not inflexibly rigid like
mine, but it was very stiff. I stroked its short length, very aware
and very jealous that it was more than half again as long as my
penis was.

"Yours is soft too," I murmurred.

"Yours is definitely softer," Joel said adamantly. "If feels
different too. Your skin slides up and down easier."

I was not going to deny that, because just by stroking Joel's
penis I could see and feel that the skin was tight. On the underside
it was so tight that the skin was actually shiny. The head of his
penis was swollen and almost blue in color.

"I think it's because of the skin on the end," I suggested.

"Your balls are funny looking," Joel continued critically.

"Huh? Why?" I asked nervously.

"Well look at them. They look like they're attached to the bot-
tom of your dick."

"What's wrong with that?" I persisted.

I could see that my testicles were smaller than Joel's, but
that was all. I inspected his scrotum carefully, then my own. There
wasn't that much difference at first glance.

"My bag goes back further," Joel announced solemnly. He lifted
his leg to show me. "See!" He pointed to where his scrotum joined to
the rest of his body.

"So?" I said with growing anxiety.

"Well your balls are like clumped up and stuck onto your dick.
Mine go way back."

"Oh. Do you think it matters?"

"No. Probably not. I think your balls look funny, that's all.
Do you play with yours?" Joel asked boldly. "Your cock I mean?"

"Uh huh." I remembered what happened when I woke up. "It's
called masturbating," I added knowledgeably.

"Yeah, I know. Did your dad talk to you about masturbating?
Mine did."

I shrugged vaguely. "My mom did."

There was no point in going into a discussion about the father I
did not know. Joel seemed to accept that. I assumed that a lot of
his friends were divorced as well. His hand was still on my penis,
gently rubbing up and down on skin was that still greasy with suntan
oil. It was beginning to throb. My own hand was moving the same way,
gliding up and down, Joel's erection. It was almost as if my brain
was not connected to either my hand or my penis. What was happening
was entirely automatic. I was starting to enjoy masturbating someone
else's penis besides my own. His next question came too quickly.

"Do you want to know something really dirty?"

"Huh?"

Joel smirked proudly. "Do you know what a nocturnal emission
is?" he asked suddenly. I shook my head. "Neither did I until a week
ago. My friend from downstairs, he's like thirteen. He had one when
he stayed over at my place. He showed me the next morning."

I must have looked confused because Joel giggled. "It was all
sticky in the front of his pajamas," he announced.

"What was sticky?" I queried.

"His stuff, you know? The white stuff that comes out your
dick when you're older."

"His semen?" I asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, semen. It was real messy. When I get back to New York
I'm going to make him show me again how it comes out."

I nodded, trying to reason what it was all about. It was very
confusing. I wished that I could talk to Bryce. I had so many ques-
tions and no answers that I could trust.

"You've seen it come out?" I asked nervously.

Joel nodded sagely. "It shoots out like a water pistol. It's
kind of like egg white you know. All he has to do is rub it for a
while and it spurts out." He paused thoughtfully. "Do you want to
know something else he's shown me? We could do it too, if you
wanted?" he added furtively.

There was something in the sound of his voice that said `be
careful'. However, I was beyond warnings, except from my mother.

I nodded slightly, and then realizing that it probably was not
enough given the mysterious offer, I added, "Yeah, okay."

"You have promise you won't tell anyone," Joel insisted. "Your
mom might get really angry if she found out."

Now it sounded really good. Short of breaking the law, I wanted
to do whatever Joel had in mind.

"Okay. I promise," I said in a voice that was little more than
a whisper.

He smirked gleefully, assuming immediate authority over me.
"Okay. You have to lie down on your back and close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it. You'll see," he said pensively.

I lay down next to him, turning onto my back and crossing my
arms behind my head to form a pillow. Joel sat still for a while
just looking at my naked body. He seemed to in a trance. All he did
was to swallow and lick his lips.

"Well," I said impatiently.

"Uh, I was thinking of something."

"Like what?" I asked.

It took a few moments for him to answer. "Don't laugh, okay." I
nodded as I was supposed to. He hesitated. "I wish I could marry
you," he said seriously. Immediately, he gave a funny giggle.

"You can't. I'm a boy," I reacted. "Anyway, even if I was a
girl, we still couldn't get married because we're cousins."

I waited. My response obviously annoyed him.

"I wasn't thinking of you as a being a girl," he replied
absently. He smirked knowingly.

"You're weird!" I proclaimed. Joel gave me a hurt look. "Do you
want to do this thing of yours or not?" I demanded brusquely.

He smiled and nodded "Don't get mad if you don't like it, okay?
But even it you don't like it you still have to do it back to me,
okay? And remember you promised you wouldn't tell anyone?"

"Yeah, yeah, and yeah," I grinned up at him. "I have to close
my eyes too, right?"

Joel nodded. I could sense him coming closer and I was tempted
to open my eyes and see what he was doing. Then, suddenly I felt it.
I don't know what I expected, but certainly not something hot and
wet on my penis. My eyes flew open. For an instant I thought he had
just kissed my penis, maybe even licked it or something, but I never
expected him to put it in his mouth. Not just a little bit inside,
but all the way inside. His lips were hard up against my groin and
his nose was burrowing into my scrotum. There was a strange feeling
in my penis, a very strange feeling indeed. It was better than mas-
turbating.

Almost as soon as his head went down, it came back up again. It
was over in a matter of seconds.

"Yours tastes really funny," Joel said defensively.

"I think it's the oil," I said, equally defensively. "I tasted
some on my fingers and its pretty gross."

"Yeah, its gross all right ," Joel confirmed as he spit onto
his fingers.

"I could go wash it off," I offered hopefully.

I did not want the taste of oily residue to stop what had to be
the best feeling in entire world. Joel shrugged ambiguously, imply-
ing that I could if I wanted. I started to get up.

"Now you do mine," he commanded.

With that, Joel flopped onto his back and assumed the classic
`boy-waiting-to-get-his-dick-sucked' position with his legs apart
and his arms behind his head. I was not at all sure what to do next.
Every time he breathed, his enlarged reddened belly trembled like
jelly. Awkwardly, yet obeying an instinct that knew what needed to
be done, I came to my knees and crouched above him. His hard penis
danced before my eyes. It emerged from a groove of flabby skin that
encircled his penis and scrotum. It begged to be inside my mouth. I
gazed at it, entranced as I considered what it would taste like.
Irrationally, I realized that it had to taste wonderful. As my mouth
cautiously approached I had a nagging awareness that if I did put it
in my mouth, I would not be able to take it out.

It did not smell bad. In fact, it smelled nice, like lavender
or some other kind of flower. It looked clean, not like mine with
its oily luster. There were tiny pink and blue lines on the surface
as if someone had been scribbling on it with fine marker pens. It
flicked teasingly before me, jerking with purposeful intent. It was
a luring me towards it. I licked my lips.

"Go on!" Joel insisted.

"What do I do?" I asked timidly.

"You put it in your mouth like I did."

"Are you sure it's okay to do that? You're not going to pee in
my mouth, are you?" I asked distrustfully.

"No! Of course not. What are you waiting for, Chris? I did it
to you. It's my turn now," Joel said persistently.

I imagine every boy who's ever taken his friend's penis into
his mouth has gone through the same situation the first time. I
could not help being reluctant, even though I was also excited by
the possibility. Joel urinated through the thing in front of me, and
as delectable as it appeared, there was always that association.

"Are you going to suck my cock or not?" he demanded haughtily.
"Because if you aren't, I might as well get dressed again."

"I will," I said bravely.

That did it for me. I was going to `suck his cock'. I was going
to do the one thing was assured to expose me to ridicule for the
rest of my life. There was not a boy in the fifth grade who did not
know that. Not only did I now know what the expression described,
but I was going to do it. No one except the two of us would know
about it. I licked my lips and swallowed one last time. I opened my
mouth and with the fingers of my right hand holding his penis
upright, lowered my head onto it.

I loved that first taste, that delicious sweetness of warm
sleek flesh. His hardness melted into my mouth, sinking to the very
back before I realized what had occurred. I pulled back, my tongue
squirming out of the way to accommodate something that it was unused
to having next to it. It popped back out of my mouth and slapped
wetly against Joel's round lower belly. It was wet with my saliva. I
took a deep breath, disbelieving what I had done, uncertain that I
wanted to repeat the act but knowing it was inevitable.

I licked my lips, swallowed again, worried about what Joel
might or might not say. He offered no encouragement. He lay very
still, obviously expecting more. The next was slower, premeditated.
I brought my moistened lips to the helmet-shaped head and stopped
there. I waited until my pounding heart calmed so that I could con-
tinue. Consciously, I rubbed my lips against the little swollen
dome. I was aware of Joel pushing up against me, trying to force his
penis between my lips. I had a vague notion that I was kissing
another boy's penis and actually enjoying it. I had my mother's
lips. Full lips for a small mouth, perfectly shaped lips, lips that
never kissed anything except my mother's cheek. I was kissing a fat
boy's penis and I loved it.

"Use your tongue!"

That was all he said. He didn't need to even say that much. I
would have figured it out for myself eventually. It came naturally,
as natural as masturbating. Penises were designed to be stroked and
they could be stroked by tongues and lips just as effectively as by
fingers. I licked across the small helmet, curling my tongue under
the flared ridge and lifting it up and against my upper lip. Joel
growled softly. I could tell that he liked that. Now what? Uncer-
tainly, I went back to kissing the head of his penis. Slowly, my
mouth filled as it slid inside. My lips crushed against the flabby
groove.

Knowing more about what was involved, I used my tongue to move
his penis around inside my mouth, trying it against my cheek and
against the roof of my mouth. It wasn't comfortable, but this time I
was more confident. Instinctively, I began to lift my head up and
lower it back down. After about ten or twelve strokes I felt Joel's
hands on my head. His fingers were twisted in my hair and he was
pushing and pulling to get me to do it faster. His hips began to
rock, lifting up and jerking erratically. I let him do it. I had
only one job to do, to keep his penis in my mouth and to keep my
teeth out of the way.

For a fat boy he was very energetic. He thrust and jerked my
head until my neck hurt. I did not mind. I could feel his penis
sliding back and forth between my lips and I was happy. I didn't
think Paul could have or would have done what Joel did. Then, as
quickly as he had become faster, he slowed. He groaned loudly. He
body became tense. There was a final thrust that slammed his penis
into the back of my mouth. He groaned again, gripping my ears and
dragging them down so that I could not move. Then came the pulses,
half a dozen of them, pumping between my lips until he had nothing
left to give and he slumped back onto the bed and pushed my head
away. I lay still. My head was cradled on his chubby leg. I breathed
heavily as well, not understanding why I was so exhausted. I could
still taste his penis inside my mouth, except it was not a fresh
taste any longer. It was pungent and human, and utterly fantastic.

"Oh wow," Joel moaned after a minute had passed. "I don't
believe you did that?"

"What happened?" I asked guiltily.

"You just about sucked my dick off, that's all," Joel squeaked.
He smiled fondly at me. "Thanks dude."

"It's okay," I said warily.

Yet while I was grateful for his appreciation, I deserved
something back. It was my turn, after all.

"Should I wash it off now?" I asked hopefully. "I bet I can get
rid of the taste."

"Huh? Oh that. I'm beat, Chris. Really I am. Next time, okay."
He inspected his penis carefully. "Besides, my mom could come back
any time now."

I sat up, wiping the saliva from my lips with the back of my
hand. I was disappointed. I would have liked to experienced the same
sensations that I gave him. It wasn't fair. I watched him as he
tried to sit up, but he was so overweight that he had to roll onto
his side and push himself into a sitting position.

"You don't mind do you?" he squeaked.

I shrugged. "Let's go swimming," I reminded him.

"You're angry!"

"No I'm not."

"You aren't going to tell on me, are you Chris?"

"No, Joel, I'm not going to tell, okay," I retorted.

"Why are you being mean?"

"I'm not. I just thought it was my turn next, that's all."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Chris. You don't understand."

"What don't I understand? I did it to you, didn't I? I did what
you wanted."

"Yeah. It was nice." He did not sound convinced.

"Did I hurt it or something?" I demanded.

"No! Of course not. It's just when I get all hot and bothered
and all, I can't do stuff."

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically.

"It's true Chris. When I tried to do my friend,... I puked on
him. I have this gag reflex. I can't help it, okay"

"Gross!"

"I'm sorry Chris. I'll make it up to you. Really. I promise."

"It's okay," I said.

"You're so lucky."

"Me?" I choked.

"Yeah. You,... you know you're really beautiful," Joel stated as
if it was patently obvious.

I bent down to put my feet through my thong. I stood up, pull-
ing it higher. "Yeah, right," I said. "Come on. Hurry up," I added
grumpily.

Joel moved slowly, like Paul did after we had gym. It was as if
any effort could induce near paralysis. He pulled on his swimming
shorts, looking no less ridiculous than he had the day before. The
equally ridiculous thing was that only the day before I had consid-
ered my thong in the same way and I would gladly have swapped it for
Joel's shorts. He squeezed into them. Fortunately they came equipped
with an elasticized waistband and there was no zipper or we might
have spent the rest of the day in his bedroom.

We emerged into the sunlight again. There were even more people
standing around the pool now. Some were supervising children but the
majority were beyond their child-rearing years. One man with white
hair, but who wasn't that old, maybe fifty, followed me with his
eyes as we padded across the pavement and jumped into the pool. He
was still watching when I surfaced. I had seen those eyes every day
of my life. They attached to me, and no matter what I did, they did
not leave me. I began to scull back to the side of the pool, avoid-
ing his gaze as best I could.

'Christopher Faran, you have to be careful. There are enemy agents
after you.' I dove down again, down into the murky depths beneath
the bridge. Somewhere, there was a secret door, a door that led into
a passage that would take me right into their headquarters. I would
surprise them. They would scatter and run for cover when I emerged
from the water, like a phantom of the water dressed in my black
wetsuit. Another agent, there in the shadows behind the stone walls
that supported the bridge above me. I was glad I had my shark-knife.
I could swim up behind him, slit his throat and be gone before
anyone even realized I was there. I could be very deadly when I
wanted to be. I had to be careful not to make any sound.

"What's up?" Joel asked as I scrambled out of the water.

"Nothing," I said. I glanced over my shoulder. "Your mom's
calling you."

"Aw! She wants me to put some lotion on I bet," Joel com-
plained.

"You should. Put some on, I mean. The sun here is really
strong."

"I hate wearing sun stuff. It makes me look like a geek."

I shrugged and stood up to make room for Joel to clamber out of
the pool. He gave up after two attempts and slowly waded across the
pool until he reached the stairs. I watched him waddle out before I
turned around.