Welcome to the second in a series of short stories based on my own real experiences. Please note that it is mostly fiction. These stories start with real situations with real people, but most of the fun stuff never really happened. It's the fun that shoulda happened, and which coulda happened if I had played my cards right.
I set out to write a one-parter but I kept remembering things that really happened and the woulda-shouldas kept coming. So, this story will be posted in five parts.
This adventure takes place 15 years after the first one. I was 27 so this in the Adult-Youth category.
For the record I do not advocate breaking the law. If we're sitting in jail the assholes win.
Finally I remind you that Nifty is an amazing free-to-use resource that depends entirely on us. Please donate if you can.
I appreciate your feedback, so please email me and I will do my best to answer quickly.
Gamin Paramour, 2020
They were wide with surprise and gleamed with life, the irises shining like polished steel with little golden flecks adorning the outside upper corners. Clear and deep like iridescent liquid pools, they never blinked and nor did mine; four eyes locked together by some atomic force, impossible to break. Time ticked by in the silence of my inner mind, second after second, long enough to feel self-conscious about it. Either my heart had stopped or it was pounding in my chest, I couldn't tell which.
"Sorry," came a clear, high voice, and only then did I realize that the person before me was a young boy, and that his little oval face was damn near as beautiful as his incredible eyes. I managed to close my mouth and by sheer force of will negotiated our passing, he to the right and I to the left.
I tracked him into the pool's changing room with my gaze -- as if I could do anything else -- and as he took a few steps backwards he gifted me with a huge, genuine smile. The first coherent thought that slammed into my brain:
Who was that? And who do I have to kill to see him again?
One minute earlier I had passed through the changing room on my way to the pool in what now felt like a completely other life, someone else's life, mundane and ordinary and utterly forgettable. But the instant I stepped into the bright sunshine on the pool deck all that changed forever as I immediately had to pull up short. I had nearly collided with someone coming the other way, the moment now preserved in my mind as if in amber:
The most amazing steel-gray eyes I have ever been privileged to encounter, even to this day.
I stumbled absently a few steps forward and was consumed with the fervent hope that my mystery boy was only taking a pee and would be back to play in the pool. Alas I soon saw him hurrying along the sidewalk presumably for home, taking cute, short steps so his little wet feet wouldn't slip, his towel clutched around his shoulders against the chill even though it was over eighty degrees.
As I watched he turned his luminous eyes back to me and reignited that billion-candlepower smile, and I knew beyond doubt that it was meant for me. My heart inflated and I realized with a start that I was instantly, irretrievably smitten.
The boy vanished between the buildings and in a few moments my adrenaline eased off, allowing me to reluctantly rejoin mundanity and find an available deck chair to spread out my towel.
I'd moved into this condo complex just a week before, living on a small inheritance while I took a sabbatical from work and started my first mainstream novel. Being a late night writer by temperament I had plenty of daytime hours to myself and had been looking forward to trying out the complex's big beautiful swimming pool. It had been the single biggest selling point for me when I leased a second floor one-bedroom from a doctor who owned three units as investments.
Get this: he was a Chinese cardiologist named Dr. Yung Wang. What boylover could resist renting from a guy named Young Wang?
It wasn't an especially upscale complex but they sure did the amenities right. Along with the pool there was a clubhouse with a party room, men's and women's saunas and a good-sized gym with both Nautilus equipment and basketball courts. Outdoors there were volleyball courts, playgrounds for the little ones and a picnic area with several tables and barbecue grills.
The very best advantage of the complex being more modest was that it catered to middle-class working families rather than well-off empty-nesters. Kids were everywhere and often unsupervised. Parents were less paranoid back in '82 that their little darlings would be snatched if they were allowed out of sight for an hour. In fact, sending them off to the pool served as a welcome free alternative to a sitter, while also affording the likes of me an abundance of preteen eye candy.
Be assured that I was not someone who went looking for unsupervised boys to snatch. I loved to feast my eyes, but normally that was all. If friendships developed and things organically moved in an intimate direction that would be one thing, but I didn't do force, coercion or manipulation. That wouldn't be fun for me. The kid had to want it, and you know what?
It wasn't hard to find kids who wanted it.
I distracted myself from thoughts of Mystery Boy by returning to my usual modus operandi: scanning the pool's sparse crowd for possibilities. It was not unlike perusing the menu posted outside of a restaurant.
The only boys of an interesting age were a pair of brothers, 8 and 10, who splashed and played with their older sister, who was 11. Neither of the boys was particularly attractive -- certainly not in Mystery Boy's league -- and though she was cute I wasn't very much into the girl, except inasmuch as she was young and flat-chested and could have passed for a boy if she cut her ass-length Cher hair.
I remembered these kids from my first of the monthly pot-luck barbecues the complex hosted in the summer. Their parents were very friendly people who apparently thought it was cute as hell for the whole family to have rhyming names. Harry and Mary had actually named their offspring Geri, Terry and Gary.
"Hey, it's Bill!" came a high voice. It was middle-child Terry standing in chest-deep water, who now faced me after turning his back against a splash launched by big sister Geri. Though I was still preoccupied with Mystery Boy I managed to return Terry's smile and greet him by name, somewhat surprised that he remembered mine nearly a week after the barbecue.
Terry was not unattractive, just not my physical type. He was a little brown-haired fireplug with a round face and a solid but slightly pudgy body who looked to me like he might grow up to be a linebacker. Terry was a lot of fun at the barbecue though, full of piss and vinegar and seeming bold enough to try anything that looked like a good time. I didn't write him off just because he wasn't Disney-kid pretty.
Geri and Gary grinned up at me as well, both calling out, "Hi!"
"Wanna play tag with us?" Terry asked. "There's hardly anybody here now, but later it will be too crowded."
"Yeah, OK," I said with my friendliest smile, and dived into deeper water.
The second I came up again Terry loudly called, "Bill's it!" and began furiously swimming away. Naturally I targeted him and swam in the direction that cut off his most likely escape route. Geri, however, had also chosen that direction and by the time she realized that our paths were converging it was too late. With a slight course-correction I easily overtook her, taking the opportunity for a small test of her touching limits.
Geri had been quite friendly to me at the barbecue and not prissy at all, happily rough-housing in the grass with her younger brothers and now again in the pool. I made a point of tagging her on the inner thigh, finding it smooth and soft and lovely. My touch elicited not a hint of adverse reaction, and for my part it was easy to pretend it was the thigh of a beautiful boy.
Hey, a tomboy is better than no boy at all.
"No tag-backs!" I cautioned, and the grinning Geri immediately turned toward her youngest brother Gary. He was low-hanging fruit and, I presumed, Geri's favored go-to.
Gary was a shy kid and acted even younger than his eight years, perhaps intimidated by his outgoing brother. He was built less squat than Terry but was quite soft with baby fat, cute in a non-sexual, little kid way. Neither his body nor his personality was in my BL wheelhouse.
Throwing her long hair back over both shoulders Geri made quick work of catching him, whereupon Gary began several frustrating minutes of it-ness, unable to catch anyone. I decided to let him off the hook and allow myself to be tagged.
This time it was Terry or bust and I zeroed in on him and forced him into a corner, finally grabbing him firmly in both arms and holding him against me as he giggled and struggled. I had to admit his zaftig little body felt wonderful and his wide grin and high-pitched giggles were completely adorable.
I unilaterally decided to change the game, so I picked Terry up and flung him into the deeper water. As I expected all three kids shrieked in laughter and converged on me, each vying to be the next human shot-put.
It was great fun, though ultimately exhausting. None of them was shy, Geri allowing my touches -- both necessary and gratuitous -- the same as the boys. I touched them everywhere including Geri's boyish chest and all three little butts, without a peep of protest. This group was hardly physically ideal for me but boy they were fun!
"OK, OK!" I finally gasped, out of breath. "Time out!"
Terry grinned cheekily. "Oh, is the old man tired?" though I was 27 and built like a brick shithouse -- albeit with a few too many bricks.
I grinned back. "Old man, eh?" I said and pulled him into a firm headlock.
"OK! Time out is OK!" he cried in mock distress and I quickly released him.
With grins we all drifted into the shallow water and rested against the wall. Little Gary came and sat on my knee, which was pleasant. I smoothed the wet hair away from his forehead in a paternal gesture and he smiled fondly.
"Hey," I casually asked, as if I hadn't been thinking about it this entire hour of playtime, "Who was that boy who left the pool just when I got here?"
"That was Casey," Terry answered. "He's my friend who lives in the next building. We're in the same class at school."
"Is he your best friend?" I asked.
"Yep," Terry replied. "Me and him play every day, but he has to go to the dentist today."
"I hate the dentist," Gary offered, and I was pleased that he seemed to be overcoming his shyness a bit. It was a good sign that I was becoming accepted.
"Nobody likes the dentist," I said to him. "Not even dentists," and the kids all laughed.
"I didn't see Casey at the barbecue," I said in what I hoped was a casual tone.
Geri piped in, "Him and his Mom went out to dinner that night with his Mom's boyfriend. Casey doesn't like him very much."
I frowned and said, "It must be hard to see your Mom with somebody besides your Dad."
"His Dad lives in California," Terry offered. "Casey doesn't like him either."
Geri looked around for eavesdroppers, aware that she was telling tales that were none of her business. "Casey says they used to fight all the time, and he was real mean to Casey, too, and then he just moved away and he never even sends birthday cards or anything."
I gave her a sardonic smile and offered a hug, which she accepted. "You guys are very lucky that you have great parents who love you like crazy."
"We know," she said and hugged me back.
These were very sweet children and I liked them a lot.
"Geri!" came a voice from outside the pool fence that I recognized as their mother's. Her tone carried absolutely no alarm that her 11-year-old daughter was being hugged by a half-naked man she hardly knows. "Grab your brothers and come home for lunch," she said, then with a smile for me, "Hi Bill. I see you got roped in by the Three Stooges."
"Hey!" Terry complained, but with a big smile.
I chuckled and said, "No, Mary, I'm a volunteer, which shows how smart I am."
Mary laughed and said, "Well, whenever you feel the urge to volunteer go for it. I can always use the time off!"
The kids obediently took off for home, Gary insisting on a hug goodbye, and I knew I was pretty much in with this family.
I lay in the sun and tried to read my paperback novel but my thoughts kept snapping back to Mystery Boy Casey. I ardently hoped that Terry would be my ticket to his beautiful best friend, and that Casey would be as friendly and open as promised by that incandescent smile.
I mused that the absent father and Mom's unlikable boyfriend left room for an affectionate father-figure, and then felt immediately creepy and ashamed of myself. I resolved on the spot that I would do nothing overt to worm my way into this or any boy's affections. I would be my normal, friendly self and whatever happens happens. After all, there is no need to cajole a boy into emotional -- and ultimately physical -- closeness. You just have to recognize the boys who already want it.
Wednesday was again hot and sunny and I headed for the pool at the same time of the morning, hoping for similar results. Sure enough I saw from the sidewalk the Rhyming Kids already playing tag with the slim, beautiful boy with the steel-gray eyes. I quickened my step and got in there as fast as I could. My three playmates from the day before shouted delighted greetings while the long-awaited Casey stood back beaming his Klieg-light smile.
Unlike yesterday I was not shocked by his unexpected presence, and so I could take the two seconds to drink in the sight and evaluate him like the card-carrying BL that I am.
I realized that he was not, after all, the embodiment of pure boyish perfection as I had first thought. While his sweet smiling face was genuinely amazing Casey was really too thin for me to call perfect. I'd had Special Friend relationships with boys whose bodies were objectively hotter, but Casey had those eyes! It's those haunting, inescapable steel-gray eyes that I still see before me across the divide of decades.
"This is Casey," Terry said, indicating his friend as if I didn't know who he meant.
"Hello, Casey," I said, returning his broad grin. I felt an instant connection, even beyond the physical attraction. I was sure that Terry and crew had already described me as someone friendly and fun, and in fact I had been counting on their imprimatur, but I fancied that there was something more visceral to it than merely that. I remembered his huge, genuine smile the day before -- two of them in fact -- and I knew that Casey had been already open to me from our very first eye contact.
"Hi," he said in his melodious soprano. "We're playing tag," he said, and then got a more playful look in his gray eyes and added, "unless you want to wrestle instead."
My interest jumped from maximum to ultra-maximum. I expected him to have heard about our horseplay in the pool the day before but I never dreamed the first words out of his mouth would be an open invitation to touching!
"Oh," I said teasingly. "You think you can take me?"
"All of us together can," he said, in a similar teasing tone.
"So," I said, setting down my towel and the book I had brought as a prop, to look like I wasn't there to meet kids. "Four against one..." then with a nod to Gary, "...well, three and a half."
They all laughed, including Gary.
"I like those odds," I said, pulling off my t-shirt. Then I launched myself off the side of the pool in cannonball position shouting, "Bombs away!"
I landed in the middle of the four triggering a tsunami that actually knocked Gary over. When I came up they were all laughing hysterically, but as soon as he gained his feet all four attacked me at once. I worked my way through them, forcefully but carefully flinging each into safe depths of water, all while relishing the delicious touches such wrestling facilitated. I paid special attention to Casey, the one I had never touched before.
His sleek wet skin was lovely in my hands, taut yet wonderfully soft, and slick as an otter in an oil spill. He was a bit too sinewy for my taste, especially compared to the others, but nevertheless entirely enjoyable. Like the siblings Casey never protested my touches nor blocked them in any way. Either he genuinely didn't notice when one of my grabs landed between his narrow thighs or he chose to ignore it. Everything there was utterly soft, though I fancied I discerned the contours of a fair-sized scrotum.
As before the wrestling went on till near exhaustion, and as before we retired to the shallow end to breathe heavily and playfully argue about who had won. Two things were gratifying: Gary came to again claim his perch on my knee, and Casey subtly elbowed past Geri to grab a place immediately next to me.
I held Gary with one hand at his baby-soft waist so he wouldn't float off and put my other arm up on the pool gutter to hold myself in place. As we lolled in the water and small-talked I found myself focusing on Casey's wet, sun-bleached brown hair, caught up in how shiny and beautiful it looked slicked to his head. Casey drifted closer until our hips were touching and closer still until his right shoulder was basically in my armpit. When I let my hand slip down from the gutter to cup his opposite shoulder he allowed it, and after a few minutes when I ventured to gently pet that few square inches of tender boy skin there still was no protest.
"Hey Bill," Terry asked out of nowhere, interrupting my reverie. "Where's your apartment?"
"Building 210," I said, "unit F," and noted in the boy's eyes that he had filed that information away.
The four kids and I happily chatted as friends until lunchtime again broke things up. Mary did not have to come get them this time, as Geri noticed the time on the big wall clock over the changing room doors. I entertained hopes that Casey might stay behind but it seemed he was having lunch with the Rhyming Kids that day and so they all took their leave. I watched their dripping little butts all the way until they disappeared between the buildings.
I read my book until I had dried in the sun then headed home, resigned to not seeing the kids again until the next day. After a shower I retired nude to the bedroom, ready for a nice, prolonged j/o session to the fresh memory of Casey's captivating steel-gray eyes and slick, smooth little body.
It was lovely to allow my feelings to ebb and flow, bringing myself to where a quick sprint could take me over the orgasmic finish line but then backing away, settling into a marathoner's pace while the boy in my mind begged for more. I had just decided to take the next off-ramp to ecstasy when I heard soft knocking at my front door.
I cursed the interruption as I threw on the handy pair of gym shorts I slept in. Thus skimpily attired I went to the front door and looked through the peep hole. At first I thought someone was pranking me by knocking and running away but then I noticed at the very bottom of my field of view the tops of two small heads, one sun-bleached golden brown and the other dark and mousy.
"Hey!" I said as I threw open the door, "Terry and Casey! Long time no see."
Casey threw me some smiling megawatts but Terry looked confused. "What do you mean? We just saw you before lunch."
I smiled indulgently. "Yeah, I know," I said. "That's the joke."
Terry still looked confused, but shrugged and smiled broadly. "Can we come in?"
I glanced up and down the second-floor hallway but there was really no need. Each of the three-story buildings contained 12 units, four per floor so each was a corner unit. My across-the-hall neighbor was at work as always and there were fire doors in the middle of the hallway so the two neighbors at the other end couldn't see even if they wanted to. I ushered the boys inside and closed us in.
They had changed into shorts and t-shirts, Terry in sandals while Casey was barefoot. I've always liked barefoot boys, though I have no fetish for feet. I just think it's cute.
Casey wore an adult-size Def Leppard souvenir t-shirt from a 1979 concert in Sheffield, England. The sleeves had been raggedly removed leaving his adorable hairless armpits open to view.
Now that I had a fetish for.
"You like Def Leppard?" I asked him as I offered seats in the living room.
"Huh?" he asked, smiling shyly at his own confusion.
"The t-shirt," I said.
Casey looked down at himself, then beamed that smile back to me again. "Oh, that," he said. "My Dad left it behind when he split."
The boys sat on the sofa and I settled into my easy chair across from the TV. These were the only places to sit in the living room.
"Do you wear it because it reminds you of him?" I asked.
Casey gave a short laugh through his nose. "No," he said. "It was the top one in the drawer."
Terry jumped in, "Do you live here by yourself?"
I focused my smile on Terry lest he feel left out and said, "All alone. Poor me." They knew I was joking and smiled politely.
"I wish I lived alone," Terry said. "Our house is always noisy and I have to share a room with my brother."
"Gary seems nice," I said, "and you guys seem to get along, and your sister, too."
"They're OK," Terry said. "I just sometimes wish I had more privacy."
I didn't wonder whay he needed privacy, recalling how I took advantage of my own room when I was ten. I had been masturbating regularly for two years already by then, and suddenly I was sure that Terry was a fellow practitioner.
"How are things at your house, Casey?" I asked, as if in idle conversation but really hoping for a similar revelation.
"It's nice and quiet most of the time," he said, "since my Mom is hardly ever home. She works all day and then goes out with her boyfriend a lot."
I'm sure I looked concerned, because I was. "They leave you alone?"
"No," he said. "I have sitters, or sometimes I get to sleep over at Terry's."
"Well that sounds cool," I said and both boys smiled broadly.
"It is," Casey said.
We chatted fairly aimlessly for a while and I got the boys Cokes. I sensed something like impatience in Terry's manner but had no idea what that might be about. Finally with an impish grin he stepped over and sat astride my knee facing me.
I enjoyed the hell out of the unexpected contact but looked at him with a questioning smile until he asked, "Are you ticklish?" and began wriggling his little fingers on my naked ribs.
I'm not especially ticklish but I wanted to encourage the touching so I forced a giggle. In a second Casey was on my other knee and snaking digits under my arms. I faked a pretty good laugh and began tickling in return, sending both boys into fits of real giggles, following them backwards and to the floor.
"Don't tickle my belly!" Terry warned with a huge grin, which of course was really an invitation to do exactly that. I slipped my hand up under his t-shirt and tickled his soft bare torso for all I was worth. He roared in laughter but made no real effort to get away, only wriggled and stayed in place. He was a strong little shit and I knew I would have had to hold on more tightly if he were really trying. I became convinced that Terry would not shy away from even more intimate touching but I couldn't risk it in front of Casey, who had seized my focus on Terry as his opportunity to scoot just out of reach.
"Wait! Wait!" Terry finally implored. "I can't breathe!"
I gave him a couple of final tickles and rolled to my back next to him on the carpet. He grinned and gasped for air, resting his head on my outstretched arm. I smiled affectionately and pulled him tight against me. We lay together breathing heavily and I saw genuine happiness in his eyes. I was happy too, as I really did like the boy and loved that we were getting so close so fast.
Casey hadn't said anything since before the tickling began and just sat there on his haunches smiling at us. "How are you doing?" I asked him so he wouldn't feel neglected, and received the one-word kid-standard reply:
"Good."
Terry rolled toward me and whispered close to my ear, "Casey is real ticklish, especially under his arms."
Well if that wasn't a set-up I didn't know what was, so I casually extricated myself from Terry and then snatched one of Casey's ankles before he could even react. I pulled him to me, immediately launching an all-out tickle attack on his slim gams and thighs. He shrieked and really tried to get away, unlike Terry's faux effort, but I was much too strong for him and soon he was convulsed in hysterics.
My fingers roamed up and down his slim, lovely body and into his hairless underarms. I quickly discovered that Terry had not been exaggerating, and Casey was even more ticklish under his arms than I had anticipated. Boldly thrusting my hands up his baggy shirt I fiercely tickled those lovely hollows, then down again over his chest and belly and across the front of his shorts, ever-so-close to the Promised Land. Though he kicked and shrieked I held him tightly and was able to fondle his entire front from the pits to the nipples to the thighs, copping momentary feels of his prominent nuts and small cock even better than in the pool. Again he didn't block me or even verbally protest, but I detected too-far-too-fast in his beautiful gray eyes and immediately backed off.
I honestly believe that a boy has the right to say no. How else can I justify his right to say yes?
We resumed our previous seats and Casey seemed perfectly fine, not upset at all. In fact he was gabby and animated, even happier than before, and when I turned on the TV and found an old movie the boys liked Casey sat on my lap and leaned back fully relaxed against my bare chest.
Recall that I had been interrupted mid-jerkoff and was wearing only my sleep shorts. Now the full-length contact with this ten-year-old's soft warm body quickly brought Little Billy out to play.
If Casey noticed he didn't acknowledge it.
After a while I began some subtle touching, on the arm and the sweet bare thigh. Casey reacted, but not adversely, turning to make eye contact and smile. Emboldened, the touch became a gentle massage and the boy sighed in contentment. I kept an eye on the front of his shorts but never discerned any sort of lump.
Soon I was caressing his tender thigh from the knee to the hem of his shorts, inching that hem upwards as I went until I was slowly stroking his entire upper leg, while the other hand gently fondled the tender skin of his belly under his t-shirt, with never an ounce of resistance. Terry kept glancing over at us, watching with interest but never saying anything about it. He just smiled and piped up with occasional comments about the movie. If he thought anything untoward was going on he was ignoring it.
By the time the Apple Dumpling Gang got their onscreen comeuppance it was four pm and Terry announced that he had to go home. Casey sort of automatically said he did too. I didn't presume to know much about either boy from the short time I'd known them but I didn't think Terry was deliberately controlling Casey. Terry was just a bold little guy while Casey was naturally more quiet and willing to let Terry take the lead if he wanted to.
"Can we come over again tomorrow?" Terry asked just before stepping out the door.
My heart swelled. "Sure, if you want," I said as casually as I could. "I have a tennis lesson in the afternoon, though."
That satisfied him and the boys darted out and raced to the stairwell. I closed the door behind them and hurried back to the bedroom to finish what I had started, now with brand-new memories to fuel it.
The next morning I was awakened by that same soft knocking. My alarm clock said that it was a few minutes to eight am. The knocking got louder and came faster so I hurried to the door, again in nothing but those same sleep shorts.
I was so surprised to find Terry by himself that I looked up and down the hallway to see if Casey was hiding.
"It's just me," Terry said. "Is that OK?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. "It's just a little early is all."
"I could come back later," he offered, but I waved it off.
"No, it's fine. Come on in." I gestured him into the living room and said, "But you'll have to give me a minute to use the bathroom."
Terry giggled. "Number one or number two?"
I gave him a look of mock annoyance. "That's rather a personal question, but if you must know it's only number one."
"Aw nuts," he teased me back with pretended disappointment. "I was gonna tell you to light a match, like my Dad always says."
I took care of my business and came back out smiling, now fully awake and very glad there was a cute, friendly boy in my living room at eight in the morning. Terry grinned at me and suddenly pulled his t-shirt off over his head.
"OK," I said. "What's that about?"
"Well if you're never gonna wear a shirt I don't think I should have to either," he said cheekily.
"Suit yourself," I said. "Hell, you don't even have to wear pants if you don't want to." I expected him to react in shock and embarrassment but he showed no sign of it.
"Wanna watch TV?" he asked a little too casually.
"There's nothing on at eight o'clock on a Thursday morning," I said, but then remembered that I had taped an early-round Wimbledon match on ESPN. With the six-hour time difference I hadn't been willing to get up at five in the morning to watch unseeded nobodies make unforced errors.
I offered, "I have a tennis match we could watch if you want."
"What do you mean, you have it?" he asked.
It occurred to me that Terry was not familiar with those then-new-fangled things called VCRs, which wasn't too surprising. They were still pretty expensive, especially for working class families with kids. My high-end Betamax model had cost $600. I explained the concept and he was fascinated when he saw that I could conjure up a TV show at will. Of course by today's standards the picture looked like shit, but it was state of the art at the time.
I sat in my usual chair and to my surprise Terry immediately came and sat on my lap, exactly as Casey had when we watched The Apple Dumpling Gang the previous afternoon. Being shirtless the same as me his creamy soft back encountered my bare chest and I couldn't help but suck in my breath. I swear he snuggled back into as much contact as possible, his satiny skin and his delicious boyish scent having their inevitable effects. In only a very few moments I had pumped up to throbbing erection.
Terry smiled up at me and said, "I like to sit on laps, too, just like Casey." Obviously he hadn't entirely discounted what had happened the day before.
I smiled and put my hand on his soft, round thigh. "Do you like this part, too?" I asked, gently caressing his smooth, tender skin.
"Uh-huh," he replied, relaxing against my chest.
I added my other hand to the gentle touching, first on his arm, then on his slightly rounded, naked belly. He sighed and relaxed even more.
We watched in silence for a minute and then I felt Terry fidget on my lap. I feared he was going to get down and move to the sofa, but he settled again. He wriggled once more and I realized that he wasn't merely fidgeting, but deliberately grinding his soft round ass against my big hard lump.
"What's that?" he asked teasingly, and ground even harder.
The time for coyness clearly over, I put both my hands at his waist and pressed up to him. "What do you think it is?" I asked.
"I have a pretty good idea," he said and set about some serious grinding.
This went on for a few minutes as I let my hand drift down the front of Terry's little shorts, finding a small but supremely hard lump of his own. I was working up to slipping my hand down his waistband when he suddenly slid off my lap to his knees on the carpet before me.
"I wanna see," he said and deftly reached his small hand up the wide leg hole of my shorts and grabbed my cock, pulling it out into view.
"Oh, yeah!" I exclaimed at the unexpected, exquisite sensation of soft young fingers on my ready member. He gripped it tightly.
"Yeah, like that!" I cried, fumbling for the remote and killing the TV. "Up and down, Terry. Do it up and down!" and with a devilish grin and a practiced hand the boy began to stroke my cock.
"Oh, man," I said followed by a moan. "God! Where did you learn to do that?"
Terry didn't answer but grinned up at me with joy in his eyes.
"Let's get rid of these," I said and started pushing my shorts down. The boy grinned even more broadly and helped me get them down, tossing them aside and leaving me naked. He resumed his stroking right where he left off.
"Oh, yeah Terry," I murmured. "Just like that. Damn you're good at this!"
Terry beamed up at me, clearly pleased by the compliment. He stroked firmly and steadily and applied just the right pressure. I thought I saw something more in his bright brown eyes and I decided to try something.
"Do the other thing," I said with a knowing smile. "You know, the other thing."
Terry never stopped stroking but the feigned ignorance departed his eyes.
"Come on," I said soothingly. "I'll bet you're just as good at that, maybe even better."
He still wasn't convinced, but he involuntarily licked his lips and I knew he was wavering.
"Come on, baby," I said. "You want to make me happy, don't you? Tell you what, if you do that for me I'll do nice things for you too."
He still seemed uncertain but he licked his lips again.
After ten more strokes I tried again. "Please, Terry? Do it for me and then I'll do whatever you want for as long as you want."
The boy kept stroking but his smile turned coy. "Whatever I want? For as long as I want?" he asked. "How do I know you really will?"
I fixed him with my gaze. "Look into my eyes," I said. "Because I want to."
Terry considered for all of half a second and broke into a grin. He leaned in and opened wide, and then I felt the wet, tender warmth of a ten-year-old's mouth on my cock.
He was, in fact, really good at it. He nibbled and slurped my helmet-shaped head, his small fist gripping what he could of the thick shaft. He was energetic and inventive, attacking from different angles and using first his tongue, then his lips, and then both in endless combinations. He pulled off and licked and slurped from the sides, running the flat of his tongue all along the shaft from the base to the tip and back again on the other side, then he plunged back onto the head and sucked more powerfully than ever. He brought his other hand up and gently yet firmly played with my balls, pausing sometimes to comb his fingertips through my pubic hair.
Thus inspired I began to comb my fingers through the hair on his head, and the smile in his eyes said he liked it. I stroked his cheeks and cooed softly, "Oh, yes, my good boy. You do this so perfectly. I love how you make me feel."
He took his mouth off just long enough to grin up and say, "I like to make you feel good, and I love your big dick!"
"I can tell, sweetheart," I said, noting with satisfaction that he liked that I called him sweetheart. "Can you take a little more of it, honey?"
He again lifted off for a moment. "I'll try," he said, and focused his attention on getting further down on me. He sank slowly and carefully, maybe another two inches, until he gagged a little and backed off.
"Careful, baby," I said lovingly.
"I'm OK," he said. "I think I can do more." He moved in closer on his knees and carefully lined himself up for another deep dive. He slid his lips down to the depth he had been before and paused, making an appreciative noise in the back of his throat in celebration of not choking.
He made very deliberate eye contact and then looked back to my cock. He pushed himself down, taking another full inch at least. He apparently considered that to be maximum depth because he paused there and got used to it, then finally pulled back up to the head. He tickled my slit with the very tip of his tongue and then slowly and steadily slid all the way back down to that maximum point.
Terry had about half of my cock in his mouth at this point and showed no discomfort. I didn't really feel the walls of his throat around me so I don't think he was actually deep-throating, but it was wonderful nonetheless. When he began to pump his mouth up and down on me I felt myself turning my sights toward Nirvana. I'd had lots of blow jobs in my life, including from boys his age and even younger, and this ranked with the best.
"Oh, my God, Terry!" I cried. "This is amazing!"
He pumped 20 or so times until my gut gave a violent jerk and I moaned loudly.
"Don't squirt yet," he cautioned calmly, not panicked at all. "Save it, OK?"
I took a second to process this and removed my hands from his face. He pulled away and sat back on his haunches, regarding me with a happy grin. "So I guess you liked that, huh?" he asked.
He was fishing for compliments, so I jumped on the hook like a flounder.
"Oh, Terry, that was the best ever! I loved it!"
"You wanna do stuff to me now?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh yeah!" I said with a huge smile. "I can't wait."
He jumped up and scampered away. "Let's go into the bedroom!"
By the time I caught up he already had his shorts off and for the first time I saw Terry beautifully nude. Now, pudgy Terry was not the best-looking boy I'd ever had, or even the best one I was hoping to have that summer, but I'd never seen a naked ten-year-old I didn't find sexy. Also, his fantastic enthusiasm was unsurpassed, catapulting him way up the list. I eagerly looked him over, salivating like Pavlov's dog.
My eyes were immediately drawn to his creamy white bathing suit area, already noticeably lighter than the surrounding skin this early in the summer. His sweet dick was small even by ten-year-old standards, less than three inches fully hard and skinny as my finger, but it was nonetheless beautiful and exciting to me. His sack was super-tight underneath, hardly even visible, and I marveled to think how small his little nuts must be. It was no wonder I hadn't felt anything when I copped a grope in the pool.
Terry grinned and giggled. "Boy!" he said, "you really like to do stuff, don't you? You're practically drooling."
I grinned back. "I can't help it," I said. "It's the best thing ever!"
"I know!" he exclaimed and climbed purposefully onto the bed. He flipped onto his back and opened his legs. "Just suck at first, OK?"
I liked the sound of "at first." I hoped he had a lengthy to-do list for me.
I climbed toward him on my belly, adjusting my straining hard-on under me. I smiled reassuringly as I approached, but quickly realized Terry didn't need reassurance. He had obviously done this many times and was perfectly comfortable with it. His fresh boyish scent filled my nose as I leaned in.
"Tell me what you like," I said.
"Do all the things I did to you before," Terry said. "Except you can take the whole thing."
With my index finger I bent his sharply-angled little boner away from his belly and took it into my mouth. I heard him suck in his breath and hold it a long time while I registered the wonderful taste and texture and reveled in my good fortune. Immediately I sank to the very base, applying gentle but firm suction, and the sigh that escaped him was ecstatic.
It was different and interesting, probably the thinnest little cock I'd ever sucked but not the shortest. I'd once known a boy who was a year older than Terry but whose length was more typical for seven years old than eleven. It had still been Heaven to taste and he dry-came fiercely almost every time. My months with that boy remain a highlight of my sex life.
I set about duplicating the wonderful blow job Terry had given me, and he squirmed and wiggled under me in giggling bliss. His little hands came to the back of my head and began to pet and caress me, sometimes pulling me down hard to his crotch as he thrust up. I nibbled and slurped his small cockhead just as he had done to me and he reacted excitedly.
"Anything I want, right?" he asked eagerly.
I took my mouth off to say, "You're the boss."
"OK, lay on your back," he said with rising excitement, "with your head on the pillow."
I scooted around to the prescribed position and Terry climbed on top of me astride my chest. I needed no further instruction and pulled his little hips toward my face as he bent his dick downward and between my open lips. He pushed in to the hilt and held himself there for ten seconds or so before beginning to hump my face. It was lovely, Terry's slim stiffness fucking my mouth in slow, steady strokes and the round, gelatinous globes of his ass in my hands. I especially enjoyed his soft belly undulating against my nose and forehead.
I reached under him and found his diminutive nutsack. As predicted, the pills inside were extraordinarily small, little oval eggs like the pastel candies available at Easter. I heard Terry moan at this contact and I carefully and sensually caressed his little scrotum, much to his obvious delight. After several minutes of fabulous face-fucking the boy pulled his hips away -- to my disappointment -- but then settled back atop me, chest-to-chest.
"Kiss me," he said and I lit up with pleasure. His grinning little face came toward mine and our lips engaged, the boy again knowing exactly what he was doing. I kissed him deeply, slipping my tongue gently forward until he took it into his mouth and we writhed and Frenched in passion. He clamped his lips around my tongue and sucked it firmly, then offered me his for the same treatment. We kissed and kissed, hardly even coming up for air.
I had known only one other boy who kissed so eagerly and passionately, The Love Of My Life as it happens, and I couldn't help but be transported back to that magical time. But that wasn't fair, and so I pulled my mind back to the sweet boy in my arms and focused my ardor on him. I wrapped my arms around Terry and rolled us both so that I ended up on top of him, supporting my weight on my elbows and knees. He giggled as we kissed some more until I pulled back and we locked our smiling eyes.
"Can I try some things now?" I asked and he nodded eagerly. I began to kiss my way down his soft body, pausing to kiss and nibble his tiny brown nipples and lick into each hairless armpit. I kissed further down and tongued his deep "innie" belly-button, which made him giggle, and then traced a line of saliva into his satiny pubic area. I gave his cock a quick slurp, then moved down to that small nutsack, pulling it fully into my mouth and massaging the little balls with my tongue. He moaned loudly.
"You'll do anything, right?" Terry asked with more urgency than ever. "You promised."
"Yes, baby," I said. "Whatever you want."
The boy raised both legs and grabbed himself behind his knees, opening his beautiful, tiny, perfect pink anus. "Lick it!" he ordered. "Lick my butthole!"
I hesitated only the one second it took to verify that he was clean. I dived into his cleft, pulling his round butt cheeks apart with my thumbs and thrusting my tongue into that steaming, tight hole. He gasped, then moaned his pleasure.
"Oh, yeah!" he cried. "Oh, man that feels good!"
I made guttural sounds as I worked my rimming magic. I never would have suggested this in our very first encounter, but obviously this was solidly in Terry's repertoire and I wondered who had broken this boy in so magnificently.
"Deeper!" he cried. "Push your tongue in deeper!"
I stiffened my tongue and pushed, his little hole coming compliantly open and allowing its entry. I poked and probed while Terry moaned and cooed and sighed, a remarkably long time, until finally I couldn't do it anymore and I pulled back to rest.
"Put in your finger!" Terry commanded. "Use that stuff, what's it called? X-Y?"
"You mean K-Y?"
"Yeah! That's it. Use K-Y!"
I didn't think I had any but I yanked open my nightstand drawer and rummaged inside, coming out with an I-don't-know-how-old bottle of Astroglide. I squeezed some out hoping for the best, and in fact it was still slippery. I slathered some onto and into Terry's wide-open portal and scooped the overflow up onto my pinkie finger. I tickled his hole with the padded tip of my pinkie and began to worm it inside. Terry's steaming hot channel gripped my finger but opened surprisingly easily as I slipped it inside.
"Ohh," the boy exclaimed appreciatively. "That's it. Go in slow."
It took a full minute, but finally my pinkie was all the way in. I let him settle and get used to it, then began to slide it in and out. In seconds I was fingering him steadily, and when I looked up his face registered pure delight.
"Do you want a bigger finger?" I asked, and Terry nodded yes with a grin. I squirted some lube onto my middle finger and began to work it against his welcoming ring. It quickly yielded, and like some sort of magic trick my thick finger began to disappear. Deeper and deeper I pushed, and after a few sketchy moments when I thought I might be hurting him my finger finally bottomed inside him.
"Wait a second," Terry instructed, and with my finger buried to the hilt I patiently waited for the go-ahead. After a few seconds he said, "OK. Go easy."
I slid my finger back a half-inch, then slowly pushed in again until it bottomed.
"Ungh!" Terry gasped, and I shot him a concerned look. "It's OK," he said quickly, "but you'd better take it out now. It's just that I haven't had anything that big in a long time. It'll be easier next time."
As exciting as the phrase "next time" was I was concerned for his poor little rosebud. Slowly and carefully I slipped my finger back and finally out, the cool air feeling strange after several minutes in the hottest tunnel on Earth. I felt him relax when the intruder was finally gone.
"Are you sure you're OK?" I asked him as he let his legs down.
"Yeah," he said. "I'll be a little bit sore tonight but it'll feel better tomorrow. It always does."
I smiled into his happy eyes. "You like things up your butt, I see."
He grinned slyly. "I like to do lots of things," he said. "And now I want one more."
"You're the boss," I repeated.
Terry rolled back and again lifted his legs, this time holding his ankles. "Put some of the slippery stuff right here," he said, indicating his miniature nutsack and hairless perineum. I knew where this was going and complied happily. I greased him up and got on my knees behind him, slicking up my hugely ready cock and jerking it ten or so times. I placed it in his prepared groove and he closed his thighs around it.
It was goddamn near as good as being inside.
"Mmmm that feels great, Terry," I sighed as his pillowy softness enfolded me. I started to move, slowly at first and then faster as the lube spread around and warmed up.
"That's sooo good, Bill," he said. "Man, you've got a thick one! I love it!"
I was up to full-length pumps now, not too fast but long and steady. He gripped me firmly, smiling contentedly. I leaned down to him, folding him over perhaps more than he wanted but he eagerly accepted my kiss.
We kissed and I pumped and he squeezed, and sooner than I hoped the tingling began. It emanated from my gut and spread out in waves until it had a life of its own and I couldn't have stopped it even if I wanted to.
Which I didn't.
I broke the kiss and rose up to optimal angle, thrusting and thrusting faster and faster, my face hot and red and the sweat beading on my forehead. Terry's face was tinged red as well and his expression was one of sheer, delighted anticipation.
"Squirt on me, Bill!" Terry cried. "Squirt it right on my chest!"
I barely had the available brain cells to do so, but just as my climax rose to uncontainable proportions I managed to dislodge myself and jerk the last five strokes with my hand, the jizz launching like a Saturn V and splashing heavily on his heaving chest. He grinned and laughed as a second spurt flew out and landed on his sternum, then a third, smaller one on his soft, rounded belly.
"You made a lot!" he said elatedly as I squeezed out my final drops.
I gasped and grinned and managed to say, "You turned me on a lot!" and Terry relished the compliment. He lowered his legs and reached up to me for a hug. I carefully placed myself on top of him, supporting most of my own weight, and felt my cooling cum squish between us. We kissed deeply, this time with genuine affection mixed in with the passion.
"Thank you, Terry," I said. "It's been a long time."
"Me too," he replied. "It was really great!"
He smiled, his eyes dancing. At his suggestion I took him into the shower and we washed each other, Terry giggling in delight when I got hard again. He bent and gave it a perfunctory suck, but when I tried to do the same for him I was bent over so far I thought I was going to drown. I dried him and then myself, and we returned and lay naked on the bed, but just to talk.
"How did you get to be so sexy?" I asked him, and he ate it up. "You must have been with an older guy before because you knew about squirting."
"Last year we had an upstairs neighbor named Brian," Terry said. "We made friends and I went to his house a lot, and then one day he said he'd give me five bucks if I'd let him suck my dick."
"Just like that?" I asked, incredulous. "Damn, that was ballsy."
Terry got a serious look. "He was my friend," he said. "I wouldn't tell on him, just like I wouldn't tell on you."
"Well that's good to know," I said, and gave his thigh a squeeze. "Although, you kinda just did tell on him."
"But you won't tell anybody," Terry said. "It would be like telling on yourself!"
I chuckled and said, "You know, you've got a point."
"I liked doing stuff with Brian," he went on, "and I never even took any money. It made me happy, and today it made me happy to do stuff with you."
I pulled him against me. "You made me happy too, kid," I said, and then added hesitantly, "Did Brian ever, you know, put it in your butt?"
Terry got serious again. "Yeah," he said. "A few times. He was real careful, and it felt good."
"Really?" I asked. "Even the first time?"
"Well," he said, "it hurt at the very first, but after a while the hurt went away and it started to feel good." He paused a second, then added, "I thought I wanted you to do that today, but then I saw your dick and it's way bigger than Brian's and I chickened out. But then when you licked my butthole it felt so good I really wanted to again, but then your finger hurt when it was in me and I chickened out again." He looked into my eyes. "I'm sorry I keep changing my mind."
"Don't be sorry," I said. "I only want to do things that you want to do, things that make both of us happy."
Terry's expression was disarmingly affectionate. "Every single thing we did today made me happy," he said. "Can we do this stuff a lot?"
"I'd like that," I said and kissed him sweetly.
We chatted like old friends for a long time, absolutely comfortable in our nudity. Very little of the conversation was about sex, although the subject did come up a few times. Mostly Terry talked about his little life, in which I was very interested.
He was going into fifth grade in the fall and thought it was pretty cool that he would finally get to be one of the big kids in his elementary school. I told him he'd better enjoy it, because the following year he'd be one of the littlest punks in Middle School, whom the eighth graders love to torment.
He talked about his family and I was very pleased to hear how well everybody actually got along and how loved he felt not only by his parents but by his siblings as well. These kids had been taught to be a big loving family since they were in diapers. Terry even liked his big sister! It was no wonder he responded so well to my gentle, affectionate approach. This kid relished the affection even more than the sex.
Eventually I had to kick him out so I could get ready for my tennis lesson at the Park District, but Terry insisted I pick him up and kiss him long and deep before he would go. Somehow I suppressed the urge to carry him straight back to the bedroom and ravish him again.
Believe me, it wasn't easy.
Thanks for reading Part 1 of Woulda Shoulda Coulda #2: Steel-Gray Eyes. I hope you enjoyed it. Part 2 is coming soon to Nifty's Adult-Youth category. Of course you can also check my story archive here on my Prolific Authors page.
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