Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2011 11:40:04 -0800 (PST) From: Tony Williams Subject: The Boy in the Window I'm standing in the alley, peering over the fence into the back yard of the house. The boy is lying on a chaise lounge, reading a book. He looks adorable in his denim cut-offs, short enough to reveal the edges of his white briefs and displaying his slender hairless legs. He tosses his head, flicking long blond hairs out of his eyes, big and blue, eyes you could drown in. His lips move as he reads, moist lips which seem to invite a long deep kiss. He's an absolute angel, still a boy, but with the signs of manhood manifesting themselves, like the little tuft of pubic hair I can see up the short sleeve of his shirt. Just looking at him, even from this distance, makes me excited, my cock stirring in my pants. I imagine all the things I would like to do to him: stroke his cheek, kiss his nipples, run my hands up his legs and fondle his butt, put my hand down the front of his shorts and hear him gasp as I touch his cock, a small cock, but one that would grow hot and rigid, wet at the end, pulsing with passion. But now all I can do is look and dream. The light is failing rapidly and soon he's no longer able to read. He drops the book and places his feet either side of the lounge, his legs spread, revealing more of his white underpants, then pushes himself up on to his feet, glances round and walks into the house. I don't think he's seen me. I step up on to a trash can and hop over the fence, moving quietly to the side of the garden where the overhanging trees block the last of the light, creating pools of darkness. I creep quietly to the back wall of the house and peer into the window. The living room is empty so I move to the back door. I can see the kitchen is empty, too. I know there's no one in the house except the boy, the focus of all my desires. I follow the back wall of the house to the next window and look in. It's his bedroom and he's there. The curtains are open and the sash window is raised about three inches, allowing some ventilation in the hot summer evening. He stands in front of the mirrored closet doors and looks at himself admiringly, as well he might. Clearly, he knows how sexy he looks. He unfastens the top button of his cut-offs and spread the fly open, allowing me a glimpse of his underpants. Then he puts his hands on his hips and pushes them down inside the shorts so that they slide down his thighs and fall to the floor. His briefs are blinding white, fitting snuggly but not too tight. There's room enough inside them to house an erection which I can see is beginning to happen. He steps out of the shorts and caresses his basket with his left hand. I'm fascinated by the way the edge of his briefs appears on the front of his thigh, curves over his hip and disappears under the swell of his buttock. Farther up, the waistband encircles his flat tummy. I'm crazy about briefs, especially on young boys and this one takes the prize. My cock is now as hard as an iron bar and my pulse is quickening. He unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up then spreads it open and stares at his white singlet. With a shrug, he lets the shirt fall off, revealing his creamy white shoulders, his skin like that of a little girl, his arms smooth and hairless. I shiver with lust, longing to have those arms round me, wishing I could hear him whisper endearments into my ear. He tugs the singlet out of his briefs and smooths it down over his hips. It reaches to his thighs, but it's still possible to see his underpants through the thin white cotton. "This could be a dress," he murmurs. He speaks softly, whispering to himself and from where I stand, I can barely hear him. "I could be a little girl in a little white dress. Look how pretty I am!" He turns his back to the mirror, leans forward and flicks the back of the singlet up to show off the lower edge of his briefs. "Look at my panties. Aren't they sexy?" He straightens up and turns to face the mirror again, pulling his 'dress' down as far as it will go, then runs his hands up his body until he can insert his fingers into the arm holes of his singlet. His fingertips caress his nipples. "I wish I were a girl," he whispers, "with cute little tits, but I like being a boy, too." Again, his hands go down to his bulge and he strokes it lewdly. "There must be lots of guys out there who'd love to get their hands on a beautiful boy like me." He's swinging his hips from side to side, seductively. "I wanna be groped," he murmurs to an imaginary audience. "I wanna be fondled and groped and sexually molested. I want big, rough hands running up my legs, feeling my balls and stroking my dick." Low though his voice is, I can get most of what he's saying. He pulls the front of his singlet up and his hand goes down the front of his briefs, then moves up and down as he masturbates. "Christ! I'm so fuckin' horny! I wish someone would suck me off and let me cum in his mouth." His voice is growing louder as his excitement grows. "Maybe I'd suck him, too, or let him shoot his load on my face and into my mouth. I wonder what it would taste like." He grins. "I'd swallow it." Suddenly, he slides his briefs down to mid-thigh and bends backwards, his cock pointing at the mirror, his hands on his hips. I almost cum in my pants, so I unzip them, let them fall and slide my own underpants down my legs. My cock is almost steaming in the cool evening air. It's now dark and I know I can't be easily seen from within, so I edge closer to the window. I can see his belly, revealed below where his singlet is bunched up round his waist, and his right hip and buttock, the peachy skin of his loins on view. But my eyes are drawn to his exquisite cock, fully erect, with its long foreskin and tuft of blond hair at the base and below, his little balls that I want to cup in my hand and squeeze, just enough to let him know how much I love him. He interlaces his fingers behind his head and thrusts his hips forward. "Suck this," he murmurs, his voice soft again. "Lick my balls. You can finger my ass if you like. Abuse me. Molest me. Do naughty things to me, anything you like. I'm all yours!" I can hear every word. I'm stroking my own cock, close to cumming and my heart is pounding. The object of all my desires is begging for someone to do to him exactly what I dream about doing and I'm only feet away. I've never been so aroused in my life. He peels the singlet over his head and shakes his long hair from it, drops it on the bed, then runs his hand down his chest, over his tummy and down to his cock. He takes hold of it and start to gently masturbate, all the while staring at himself. I can imagine the thrills that are running through his young body as they did through mine as a twelve year old, and still do. For a boy of his age, his dick is a pretty good size. At a kid, I jerked off with two fingers and a thumb, but his cock is long enough to be encompassed by his whole hand. The tip shows every time on the down-stroke, wet at the end. It seems to be saying 'look at me'. His own image clearly turns him on. How could it not? He lets out a few grunts and quiet groans as his hand moves faster. I know he's about to cum and I'm right on the edge myself. I stand erect at the window, not caring if he sees me or not. "Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh, Jesus, I'm cumming!" he calls, his voice now loud. "Shit! Fuck! Oh, yes!" Then his dick shoots a squirt of semen on to the mirror, then another and a third. The cum drips slowly down the glass. His strokes slow down and a final squeeze produces a blob that runs on to his hand. He releases his cock and reaches behind to pick up the discarded singlet and wipes his hand and his wet dick on it. He holds it up to his face and sniffs. "I love the smell of cum," he whispers. He pulls his briefs up from his thighs and covers his midriff. "That was awesome. I'm so fuckin' sexy!" He turns and looks towards me, then steps over to the window, hooks his hands underneath the sash and pushes it all the way up. He pokes his head out, looks at me, then down to where my pants lie bunched at my ankles, my underpants gathered at my knees and sees my hand enclosing my still-stiff cock which has a long string of my cum dangling from it. He looks back up, straight into my eyes, and smiles. "Goodnight, Dad." The end. For feedback and a list of my stories, email me at tonywill9999@yahoo.com. All emails will be answered.