The Cadet


The story that follows contains relations between a man and a boy. Events depicted in this story are fictional but are based on some of the author's past experiences, although the juciest parts are made up. I'm assuming you like stories like this since you are here, but if you don't, hit your back button and go elsewhere.

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The Cadet

I had a little Luscomb 8A, a side-by-side two-seater, single engine plane with a 65 HP engine I was flying out of Reid-Hillview Airport in San Jose, CA. I had my private pilot's license and belonged to the Civil Air Patrol. Our detachment had a group of cadets associated with it. One kid, just turned twelve, the minimum age for cadets, had recently joined. He had dark-brown, almost black, hair and iridescent blue eyes. Although all boy, he was beautiful. I couldn't keep my eyes off him, and more than once, he caught me staring. When he did, he flashed me a grin showing his perfect teeth. He became my jackoff fantasy. I masturbated imagining I had him in my bed. His name was Robin McLaughlin, and I was in love with him.

One night after a meeting, he came up to me. "Mr. Lucas," he said, "would you take me flying in your plane."

"You know I'm not supposed to do that," I said. "It's against the rules."

He smiled: "I thought maybe you'd make an exception in my case."

"What makes you think that?"

"I've seen how you look at me. You're always staring at me."

"I look at a lot of people," I said.

"Not like you look at me."

"What do you mean?"

"Like I'm a juicy steak or a dish of ice cream you want to devour."

"You're imagining things," I said.

"I don't think so. I've seen that look before from other men, and I know what it means. I know what they want, and I know what you want. Take me flying, and you can have it."

He didn't define what `it' was, but I did agree to take him flying the next day which was Saturday. I met him in the airport café.

"Have you had breakfast?" I asked.


"Want some?"

"Sure," he said, and I ordered him pancakes and eggs. He asked for coffee when the waitress took our order, asking her politely for it, seeming more an adult than a child.

"Do your parents know where you are?" I asked.

"No," he said, "but they don't care where I am. As far as they know I'm out playing with some friends or at the park."

The way he said `park' got me thinking: "What do you do at the park?"

"Meet up with older guys like you."

I couldn't refrain from asking, "And what do you do with these older guys?"

"The same thing you want to me to do, suck cock or get mine sucked. Either one is cool with me."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this from a twelve-year-old. "Fuck! Are you serious?" I glanced over my shoulder expecting to see a cop somewhere, but one wasn't.

"I'm serious. Take me flying and find out."

"How do know that's what I want?"

"The way you looked at me; the fact that you're here, about to take me flying, even though it's against the rules. I'll bet you've got a hard-on. You do, don't you?"

Instead of answering, I said, "Do you?"

"My dick is always hard," he said, "but I have an excuse: I'm twelve. A twelve-year-old boy's dick is always hard."

He was right about that. When I was twelve, I had a perpetual hard-on.

"And this isn't some kind of prank? You really do suck cock?"

"Take me flying and find out," he said. "I have a hard-on for flying. It turns me on."

He was a fucking twelve-year-old, and I was twenty-six, but he was in control not me. I suppose another man could have refused to take him up in his plane but not me, not after all the nights I'd masturbated thinking about having sex with him. Despite the risks involved, I was taking him flying.

After finishing breakfast, we walked out to where my plane was tied down. I did a quick checkout and started up the plane. It didn't have a starter, so I had to pull on the prop to start it. Then, I throttled it back while he untied the plane. Once he was in, I asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't really matter," he said. "I just want to go flying, but it would be cool to fly over the mountains. I'd like to see Lick Observatory from the air."

Reid-Hillview was at the foot of Mr. Hamilton, and Lick Observatory was on the top of Mt. Hamilton, so we took off and flew by it.

"Fucking cool. This fucking turns me on," and upon saying that, he undid his jeans, pushed them down to his knees along with his underwear, exposing a hard dick about six inches long with no pubic hair above it. I was undecided whether he had not grown any yet or whether he plucked it, because I saw no sign of stubble. He was uncut. Even though he was hard, the head of his dick was still covered by its foreskin. Reaching down, he grasped his cock pulling it back, exposing his cock's reddish head. "Do you like it?" he said.

Fuck! Did I like it? I was fucking about to cream my jeans. Croaking, "Yeah," was about all I could say.

"I want to see yours," he said, and reaching over, he started undoing my pants. After unzipping them, he pulled out my cock which was a little smaller than his was, not much smaller, but it was smaller.

Leaning over, he took it in his mouth. I suppose I could have stopped him, but I didn't. I just kept flying the plane. God! It felt great having his hot, wet, mouth wrapped around my dick. Occasionally, his perfectly white teeth grazed it, enhancing the sensation of having my dick sucked.

I've had good blowjobs, but I've never had one as good as that twelve-year-old was giving me, but then, no blowjob by a beautiful twelve-year-old, no matter how imperfectly done, could be bad. He, however, was giving great head, deep-throating my dick, burying his nose in my pubic hair. "Oh fuck! I'm going to cum," I said before squirting, wanting to give him warning in case he didn't want me squirting into his mouth, but he didn't pull away, and I came, spurting with his nose buried in my pubic hair, my dick deep in his throat.

After I was through spurting, he looked up at me grinning. "You want to do me?"

"Yeah," I said, but I can't very well do you and fly the plane.

"I can keep it level," he said.

A plane like that has controls on each side enabling it to be flown from either seat, so he took over while I leaned over and took his dick into my mouth. I returned the favor of deep-throating his cock, and he came into my mouth with his dick down my throat. Sucking him got me hard again, and I wanted more, but I wanted more than to just have my dick sucked.

"I know a place we can land if you want to do more," I said.

"More? Like fucking?" he said.

"Yeah, like fucking. Do you fuck?"

"Only with certain people," he said.

"Am I one of those certain people?"

"Yeah, you're hot. I'd fuck you."

"I was thinking about me fucking you," I said.

"Same thing," he said. "I fuck you, and you fuck me. Turnabout's far play, don't you know? You blew me. I figure you're up for getting fucked, too, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm up for it."

"Where we gonna land?"

"There's a sheep pasture I can set this plane down in. I've landed there a bunch of times. This plane lands so slowly that I can set it down about anywhere."

"Cool," he said, so I flew on to the sheep pasture which wasn't far, and set the plane down. Taking off our clothes, but keeping on our shoes, we walked down to a creek which ran not far from where we landed. I led the way, but I kept looking back at him. The whole way to the creek, his dick was hard, and it -- and he -- was beautiful.

"You haven't grown hair yet?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, "but I pull it out as fast as it grows in. Most guys, I've found, prefer boys without hair. Don't you like it?"

"Yeah, I fucking like it." I would have liked him whether he had pubic hair or not, but I did like it better when boys had little or no pubic hair. Like I said, he was perfect.

Arriving at the creek, we found a sandy spot beside it and sat down on the warm sand. Like him, it was a perfect day, sunny, warm but not hot. As we sat next to each other, he leaned over and kissed me, running his tongue into my mouth. Dropping our hands to each other's cock, we stroked them. Soon, he was moaning into my mouth as cum squirted from his cock. I soon followed, squirting mine.

I'd had two orgasms, and normally two in one day were plenty, but as turned on as I was, I was good for more. He had also had two, but at twelve, I knew he was good for more. I started to push him back to a lying position on the sand so I could fuck him, but he said, "Wait," and jumped up to break off a small branch from a nearby bush. After shucking off the leaves, he handed it to me. "Give me a switching," he said. "Tell me I've been a bad boy and give me a switching."

It was as if he'd read my mind, determining my deepest desires. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do but redden his lovely butt with that switch before fucking it. I took the switch from him, and he turned his back to me. I swung the switch, striking him across the butt leaving a splash of red on it.

"Harder," he said, so I hit him harder, and kept hitting him with the switch until his butt and upper thighs were red where the switch had marked him. When I figured he had had enough, and when I had, I dropped the switch and grabbed his hips from behind, pulling him to me. My dick found his hole without any help from me, and I thrust, sliding it into him. It was obvious he'd been fucked before, because my dick met little resistance, sliding right in, and my pubic bone struck his butt cheeks. With him bent over, I pounded his ass until both of us were moaning, and as I squirted into his rectum, he spurted onto the sand. It had to be the best orgasm I'd ever had, and at twenty-six, I'd had plenty. It must have been good for him, too, because, he said. "Oh fuck! That was good. Are you good for more?"

Breathless, I gasped, "Yeah."

He pulled me down onto the sand on top of him, guiding my dick to his hole, and with it stretched with my dick, and lubricated with my cum, my dick slid in easily. I fucked him more gently that time, kissing him while I fucked him, telling him I loved him.

"Don't love me," he said. "Just fuck me," so I did. He came before I did.

"Want to go again?" he said, but like I said previously, two orgasms in one day were usually enough for me, and I'd just had four. It had been years since I'd had four in one day.

"I can't," I said. "Not yet, anyway. I'm not twelve. I can't go all day like you probably can."

"Is that what I have to look forward to?" he asked.

"Age does it to you."

"Then I'd better get all the sex I can while I can," and pushing me back on the sand, he guided his dick to my hole. Since it had been a while since I'd had a dick up it, he took longer getting his dick in me that I had getting mine in him, but once he had it in, he fucked me slowly, taking his time, but cumming all too soon, cumming just as I was beginning to enjoy it. He wasn't through, though. Keeping his dick in me, waiting until it was hard again, he fucked me again, and after taking a break between fucks, he fucked me a couple more times, until finally, both of us had enough.

We washed off in the creek and walked back to the plane, got dressed, and flew back to Reid-Hillview.

"I had a great time. Let's do it again."

"Anytime," I said.

"Will you teach me how to fly a plane?"

"Sure," I said.

"Can we go back to the sheep pasture? I liked it there."

"Sure," I said. "I kind of enjoyed it, too. How's your butt? I didn't hit you too hard, did I?"

"It stings," he said, "but I've found that pain mixed with pleasure is exquisite."

Exquisite? The word seemed strange coming from a twelve-year-old, but he'd already shown me he was no ordinary twelve-year-old. No twelve-year-old I knew could suck cock like he could or enjoyed fucking as much as he seemed to.

"Want me to give you a ride home?" I asked after we had landed.


"No trouble for me to give you a ride."

"I don't let guys I fuck know where I live," he said.

"No even me?"

"Not even you," he said. "If that's not cool with you, I don't guess we meet up again. I'll find someone else to give me flying lessons."

"It's cool with me," I hurriedly assured him. I wasn't about to jeopardize what I had with him. No matter what restrictions he placed on me, I wanted to see him again. I wanted to fuck him again. Never in my wildest imagining had I fantasized a more perfect boy. He drove the fucking train, and I was willing to ride it to wherever it would take me.

The next Friday at the CAP meeting, I avoided looking at him, except for a glance now and then, and when our eyes met, he gave me no acknowledgment, but he was waiting in the airport café Saturday morning, and we flew back to the sheep pasture across the mountains out a little from Morgan Hill, resuming our session of the previous Saturday, except that neither of us gave the other blowjobs in the plane. We waited until we got down to the creek to have sex.

We met at the airport for most of a year, and I taught him all I could about flying. Eventually, he was taking off from Reid-Hillview, navigating to the sheep pasture, and landing there on his own. For a twelve-year-old, he was damn smart. I often had to remind myself he was only twelve.

A time came that he didn't show up for the Friday night CAP meeting, and he wasn't at the airport café the next day. I asked around about him, but no one knew what had happened to him. He just stopped coming to meetings and worse, as far as I was concerned, he stopped meeting me at the airport.

Despite knowing his last name, I was unable to track him down, and slid into a deep depression for a while, but eventually, I was able to appreciate what we'd had: we'd had a perfect year of fucking and sucking by the creek over by Morgan Hill. It was more than I or any man could hope for. It was more than in my wildest fantasies I had imagined. I had hoped for one chance encounter, and we'd had a year almost.

I still miss him, and I still think about him, wondering what happened to him, but if he's okay, I'm fine with what we had, even though I'm sure I'll never meet another twelve-year-old like him