This is fiction, okay. Don't break the law, this is for entertainment. If you like it, let me know, if you don't, then don't read it. This will contain scenes of sex between a man and a minor boy. It can be cliché at points, but there's nothing new under the sun. You may email me at matt23@netmailbag.com. There will be more parts, as this story has a ways to go before it's done.

The Things We Do For Love

Part 1

Standing at the door of a large house, I reflected on the past several years. I had had a weird run of good luck that just kept getting better, and somewhat weirder. I had always played the big game lottery. In fact, when one time I really concentrated, I had won my dollar back six times in a row, and decided to stop playing, figuring the fates didn't want me to win. I had been struggling to pay for my new classes, my efforts to change careers, and decided to try again, using my 'magic' touch. It finally paid off, sort of. I won the jackpot, but had to share with a dozen others, so, while I wasn't wealthy, I was comfortable. It was enough to get me a decent house, not have to really work if I kept my spending in check, and mainly, focus on getting my degree in education. I piled on the classes and got my certificate in just under three years, instead of the normal four. My major was physical education, with two minors in math and computer technology.

Rather than jump right into teaching, I tutored. In fact, I had managing to squeeze tutoring into my overloaded schedule after I completed my undergraduate work. I made a bit of a name for myself, as it were, in tutoring. With long brown hair in a pony tail and a bushy beard, and dressed in a sport coat and slacks, I came across as an intellectual, which I guess I was, to a point. I was in good shape for being nearly forty. In fact, without the beard, dressed in regular clothes i passed for mid to late twenty's.

So here I was, ready to quit tutoring and just travel for a while before finding a regular teaching job, standing at the door to a very large house. I had taken the call to tutor with reluctance, but it was only two blocks from my house. I was amazed at how the neighborhood changed so quickly, as if it was right out of Hollywood. My house was no shack, but it was nowhere near as big as this place. It smelled of old money. Probably was considering this was New England. Probably snob parents with an uncontrollable brat. Just what I need.

The door was opened by a gentleman that introduced himself as Travis Wingfield, the fourth. The same one that had called me the night before. Old money, but no butler. How odd, but clearly a snob judging by his mannerisms.

“Pleasure to meet you sir. The boy has fallen way behind and no one has been able to help. With the start of school less than a month away, I would like you to devote all of your time to getting him ready and then maintain your assistance throughout the school year,” he said rapidly. “My wife is fetching him now.”

Just terrific, I thought to myself as I looked to the staircase and saw a woman, nose high in the air leading a small boy behind her. Her hair was a very light blond, and was in a bun so tight that if she were to sneeze it would probably rip out every hair at the clearly undyed roots.

“Sean, come here,” Mr. Wingfield said sternly.

The most beautiful boy I had very seen hurried forward. Thats not right, he was handsome. Actually a cross between the two, I guess, but more than that, too. His hair was short and trimmed very neat, typical of his station. It was light blond, but still a bit darker than his mother's. He seemed sad as he approached his father and myself. A mixture of several emotions, I would say sadness, and fear the top two.

“Yes, father?” he said in a tiny voice.

“Sean, this is Mr. James Martin, your new tutor. Mr. Martin, this is Sean.”

I withheld my cringe at my first name. I always hated it, and went by Jim. “How do you do, Sean?” I said, extending my hand, which he nervously shook.

“How do you do, sir?” he said politely.

“I do fine, Sean. So, how old are you?” I said.

“He's nine,” his father said just as Sean opened his mouth, eliciting a slight frown from the boy.

“Ah,” I said with a slight smile. “As I told you before, I had planned on stopping tutoring for a while and traveling. I can give you until maybe in March.”

“Yes, of course. My wife and I like to travel as well. You mentioned that you sometimes do the tutoring in your home?”

“Yes, I do. My study is setup for just that. No distractions, you see, and since I only live two blocks from here, I think it would be appropriate.”

“Excellent,” the man said without even a smile. “Sean, go get your books, you will start today.”

“Just like that?” I said as the boy walked quickly back upstairs.

“Certainly,” the man said. “I'm a businessman, Mr. Martin. I had you completely investigated before I called you yesterday. You care enough to do a thorough job with the children, but you always keep your distance.”

He then handed me a check for slightly more than my usual fee. Man, this guy was starting to get on my nerves, assuming everything and telling people what to do. The kid seemed fine, but something in the back of my mind said I wouldn't be able to keep my distance from particular job. So what, I thought to myself. All the better to not be what this guy thinks. So I waited for Sean to return, then I shook hands with his parents and we headed for my house.

Nothing was said as we walked back to my house. Once inside, I led him into the study and had him put his books on the desk and take a seat on the sofa, so I could try and get to know him better.

“Well, Sean, tell me about yourself,” I said and he just looked at the floor. I didn't think it was shyness, just maybe mistrust. “I want you to trust me, Sean, so, you ask me anything thing you want, first.”

He slowly looked up and studied me for a moment before speaking. “Why do you tutor kids?”

“Well, I suppose I just want to help. It's kinda like a part of who I am, I need to help, maybe give them a way out if they need it.” I think I saw a slight smile form on his face, but I can't be sure.

He got up and walked over to the desk and sat down. “So why do you keep your distance? I heard my father say that you help but keep your distance,” he said without even looking at me.

Pretty mature question for a nine year old. I walked up and put my hands on his shoulders and felt him shiver slightly. I felt him sigh, and when I looked down, he had closed his eyes. “I'm try to keep my distance out of fear of getting too attached, and that would make it hurt too much when I eventually leave.” He leaned back in the chair and rested his head on my stomach.

“So don't leave,” he finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Well, Sean, you seem to be bright and mature for nine, why did you fall behind?” I said, ignoring his statement, though he was making me want to not leave.

“Well, I'm almost ten, and I figured there wasn't much point to keep up.”

“Do you mind if I ask why you feel no reason to keep up?”

He turned around a studied me for several minutes before answering. “Because my parents don't really love me. If I learn anything new, they'll just use it to manipulate me, to make sure I don't embarrass them.”

“I would ask what makes you say that, but I think I get the idea after just meeting your parents for those few minutes this morning,” I replied and then knelt down and looked him in the eyes. “Intelligence will give you more opportunity to get away from people like your parents. But I think you know that, deep down, don't you?”

“I guess, it just seems to be a waste of time, though. I used to read a lot, but every time they found out about anything I liked, they always found a way to suck the fun out of it. They don't even know half the stuff I really like. I keep it a secret,” he replied, sadly.

“You're ten, when?” I asked.

“In almost four months, November 23rd, why?” he replied.

“Well, the older you get, the fewer the opportunities get. You need to prepare for them, even now, at almost ten. Ignorance is bliss they say, but thats only for certain people, one whom you are not. I can tell you, you won't find happiness without learning, you're not the type. I'll work with you. We keep your skills slightly above par, and hide the rest until you can use them without your parents interference, okay?”

I hated to turn a kid against his parents, or no, I kept my distance so that I wouldn't do that, but this time seemed so different. He was already against his parents, and they had sucked the life out of him. So screw it. I'll help him as much as I can.

“Okay,” he finally said, and gave me a small smile, and that smile made such a difference, it was all I could do not to hug him. I did give his shoulders a squeeze as I stood up, though. I was already getting too involved, but too late, really. He needed my help, and he was going to get it.

We went over all of his subjects for the rest of the morning and then took a break for lunch at about noon thirty. He was loosening up a bit. I could remember when I was a kid, and wanted that older brother/mentor so bad. I guess nearly every kid goes through that when the father is distant, as mine was. As Sean's is. During lunch, I suggested that we make use of the pool in my back yard before school starts and the weather turns cold.

“Um, I can't swim,” he said softly, looking down at his feet.

“Hmmm, well, I'm not the greatest swimmer in the world, but I could show you enough to have fun. And we won't tell your parents, so they can't suck the fun out of it.”

He looked up at me, eyes wide in disbelief. “Really? We could keep it a secret?”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, let's see. I'll get you a pair of trunks that you would keep here, and you'll shower here before you leave to make sure they can't smell the chlorine on you.”

He smiled devilishly at that. “Cool. I'm like a secret agent.”

That was the first time he actually sounded like a kid. He was very mature and smart. Too smart sometimes, forgetting how to have real fun, if he ever did.

“Yeah, okay. I need to know what shampoo and soap you use, to make sure you smell the same,” I added.

“We use Pert and Irish Spring,” he said and then studied me again for several minutes, resuming his too old for his age look. “Why are doing this?”

I just looked at him, and pressed my own daring as I sat down on the sofa, and pulled him into my lap. He kind of resisted for half a second but gave in and just stared at me, waiting for the answer. “To use a standard cliché, I want you to think outside the box. I need to help, and you're very smart. But even those that think outside the box, are actually thinking inside a different box. I want to give you so much that you actually think between the boxes. A friend of mine always said, the world tries to give you answers A, B, and C to life, but you have to invent option D. Helping you to enjoy life outside the people that try to control you is a part of that.”

“Okay, I get that, I think,” he answered, but after a moments consideration, he added, “Why do I get the feeling that you haven't done this much with other kids you've tutored?”

Stunned, I replied without even thinking about it. “Because I haven't.” He almost looked shocked, and waited for a more definitive explanation. “I don't seem to be able to keep my distance this time, Sean. I don't really know why. What I do know, is that I'm gonna help you as much as I can before March. Hell, you might even convince me to stay, but no promises. It seems fate has a plan for me, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He looked at me for a moment, and then nodded, accepting my answer and then leaned in and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks, for being honest with me, sir.”

“Okay, you're welcome, and when it's just us, you can call me Jim, if you like. In fact, I would prefer it.”

He smiled as he got up. “Thanks Jim.”

We worked more on his studies for the the rest of the afternoon, and then I walked him home. I had asked him what size clothes he wore, but he really didn't know, so I had the pleasure of checking his pants, and briefs for sizes. When I got home, I went out to a thrift store near the, shall I say, less wealthy part of town, which, is where I would find a thrift store. I found several variants of swim trunks, and got them all because of the variations in brand sizes. I also got the shampoo at the grocery store as I stocked up on a few, more tasty types of foods that a boy his age should have the chance to at least try. The soap wasn't a problem, as I Irish Spring was my favorite.

That night I stared at myself in the mirror, reflecting on the last day. In over my head? Not really. Caring for the boy? Most definitely. I looked at the few grey strands of hair poking out of my scalp. Time to color my hair again. I liked to think the grey was from the stress of hating my job before I finally figured out what I wanted to do for a living, and finally getting my degree so I could teach. Better late than never I guess. I used the color guard shampoo and conditioner, otherwise I would be using Pert shampoo myself. I admit that I don't want the grey, stress or distinguished, I didn't want it.

After coloring, rinsing, and showering, it took little time for me to drift off to sleep. I was apparently tired out from working with Sean. It was a good tired, and for some reason, I wasn't worried about the closeness that was already happening between me and Sean, or the fact I felt I didn't care about keeping my distance regarding him.

The next day after studying all morning and a quick lunch of things he never tried before, we got ready to go swimming. I pointed out my first guess of swimsuit, and it fit perfectly. Not baggy, but not overly tight either, just a nice relaxed fit. I think he caught me staring at him as I couldn't help but look him up and down. He was so cute in the trunks. He wasn't skinny, nor fat, nor overly muscular. He had just the right amount of his baby fat left, but it was firm. It showed the muscle that would be there as puberty hit. I shook myself out of my thoughts as I saw him looking at me.

“I got it just right, I think, Sean. Those trunks fit great, and you look good in them.”

“Thanks,” he said as he blushed a little at the complement.

He was a little nervous in the water at first. So was I for that matter, but I held him and let him work on the basics. He really seemed to start feeling comfortable around me, trusting me, and that was a good thing. He would learn more that way.

After his shower, I blow dried his hair lightly on the cool setting, otherwise his hair would have had too much body too it, and his parents would have known something. His hair wasn't fine, like one would think with the way his parents had him comb it. It was actually quite coarse, and I enjoyed running my hands through it as I dried and combed it just the way it was before.

“I wish I could grow my hair like yours,” he said suddenly as he looked into my eyes while I played in his hair.

“Really? Mind if I ask why?” I said nonchalantly, trying to feel out what his thoughts were toward me.

“Well, part of me wants to do something different, but...” he said and thought for a moment before the little man gave me his answer. “It just seems pointless to me, cutting it all of the time, just for appearance sake. I like yours, it just seems more natural too, so I wish I could do it. Thats all.”

I was a little stunned I guess, because he said, “What?”

“Oh, It's just thats how I pretty much feel, myself, Sean. It's pretty amazing you were able to put your thoughts into words like that. You really are a bright little boy.” I couldn't help it, and I just hugged him tight. He didn't pull away at all, he just hugged me back. After about a minute I guess it was, we let go.

“Uh, guess you better get your shirt on, it's about time you headed home,” I said, as he was only wearing his standard slacks.

Once he had his shirt and shoes on, he headed for the door. He turned just before he left and said, “Thanks, Jim, for everything.” And he was out the door and gone. Man what an exhausting, exciting, scary, wild couple of days.

The next week I got him some jeans, a t-shirt, and baseball cap at the thrift store, and some spiffy dark colored briefs, crew socks, and converse shoes at Walmart. I also picked up a baseball mit so we could play catch, which I even had to teach him how to do that. He loved dressing like a regular kid. He wanted to go out, but I reminded him that he wouldn't want it to get back to his parents. He got really scared at that. It seems he's almost terrified of his parents.

Eventually, school started and he spent two hours after school at my house. Sometimes we worked, and sometimes we just relaxed after he did any homework he had. He always changed into his 'play' clothes though. He liked the uniform of the private school even less than his slacks and dress shirt.

By the end of October, his normal position for watching TV after homework was my lap. He wasn't allowed to watch regular TV at home, only educational programs, which are fine, but just those types of programs are not a very balanced life. One need frivolity and entertainment as well.

He kept his school work above average, but not too much. His parents appeared not to see anything unusual when I would pick up my check each week. They just coldly thanked me because Sean was doing better in school. I was invited to Sean's birthday party, which was actually held on Thanksgiving day. But party is not what I would have called it. The kids that were there were not Sean's friends. From our chat's, I found out that Sean didn't really have friends, he had acquaintances. Their were no toys in the presents that he got, and his parents were as cold as ever. The meal was excellent, and the actual birthday portion of the day was quite small. I maintained my distance from Sean around them. Sean understood, he's such a bright boy.

We got even closer over the next month. During the holiday break from school, his parents went out of town, leaving Sean in the care of his nanny/maid. He was to spend the days getting extra tutoring from me, which I was glad to do, though I didn't let on.

He really didn't need any extra tutoring, so we decided to hang out, and enjoy each other's company. We had watched 'Smokey and the Bandit' and he loved it, so I got him a little black Firebird Trans Am matchbox car for Christmas. With all of the money his parents have, the expression on his face when I gave him that little car was priceless.

“There, you've got some frivolity to take with you that you can easily hide from your parents,” I said as he turned the car over in his hands in awe.

“Thank you, Jim. I love it,” he said as he climbed into my lap and hug me with all of his might.

Later, he was on his stomach watching tv, and I was on the couch, watching him. After about an hour, he broke the silence.

“You like watching me?” he said a little nervously. “I've been watching your reflection in the window,” he added when my only response was a stutter.

It was a little dark outside and the tv was in the corner, and my reflection was pretty clear.

“I'm sorry, Sean,” I finally said.

“Don't be, please,” he said as he turned over, and looked back at me. “I've, um, been checking the Internet, um, cause, um...” he trailed off and got up.

I leaned forward as he stared at me and started a little pacing. “Sean, it's okay, you know you can tell me what's on your mind, please.”

“I know, but, I checked the Internet to find out about why I feel like I do, and I want to trust you to, um, confirm it I guess,” he said, his nervousness still present in his voice.

“Go on, Sean,” I said and took his hands in mine so he would stop pacing.

“I, well, I think I'm gay, and I think you are too. So please tell me.”

“Sean, I think you do too much reading at times. But, first, yes, I am gay, and second, what makes you think you are? I help you, I promise.”

He looked me in the eyes and visibly relaxed. “Well, I like to think about boys the way most other boys think about girls. A lot of websites say I'm too young to know, that it could be a phase, but, I don't think so. Please tell me how you felt, please.”

I thought back to my own childhood. “Sean, I wasn't as smart as you. I knew I liked boy parts, but I wasn't able to put a label on myself like that. You may very well be right about you being gay. Without puberty's hormones in play, I think maybe you can think more clearly. Hell, I didn't even consider the label for myself until my twenty's.”

“So that means I might not be gay?” he asked with moist eyes, and a tremble in his voice.

“I don't know Sean. Only you can know that really. But I think maybe you might be, to be honest. It sounds as if you want to be gay, though. What else is on your mind, Sean? Tell me.”

“Um, I read that there are guys out there that like boys. Um, I've been watching you, and I want you to be one, cause I want to be with you. I know that sounds weird, and everyone would still say I'm too young, but you say only I can know how I feel.”

He dropped his eyes from mine, and I sensed a bit of fear at this revelation. I pulled him toward me, and then lifted his chin to meet his gaze. He swallowed nervously. “Sean, I always said I would be honest with you. You've caught me. Yes. The answer is yes, I'm one of those types.”

He smiled a little then. “That's the real reason why you keep your distance, isn't it?”

“Give me a break, kid. You need to stop reading so much and be a regular kid, but yes, it is. You see, there a few of those types who give the rest of us a bad name. So I need to keep my distance, not just for the legal side of it, but the hype scares a lot of kids into being the little drones society wants them to be.”

He climbed into my lap with his legs on either side of me and stared deep into my eyes. “I'm not scared. And I don't want to be a drone, Jim. I want to think between the boxes. I'll try to be more of a kid if you show me more of the stuff that they don't want me to know.”

I stared at him flabbergasted. My luck, or the fates, or whatever were really doing a number on me. This unbelievably mature boy still had his childish side, and he wanted to share himself with me. Already this far, how could I turn down the fates choice for me, much less the very real need of this little boy?

We leaned in a kissed ever so softly. He started breathing hard. I think it was more nervous than anything, because he started to hyperventilate. Once he was calmed down, I asked him if he was alright.

“Yeah,” he replied, “it's just that I really wanted this so much, that I couldn't believe it.”

“Me too,” I said back with a smile. “We'll have to take it slow, my sweet prince,” I said and pulled him into a hug and started rubbing his back.

My goddess he was cute in the clothes that I got for him. The jeans weren't really tight, or snug, but they certainly weren't baggy. They were, perfect, by my taste. His t-shirt wasn't over size either, but neither was it skin tight, it was, again, perfect.

I remember skin tight jeans and shirts, I wore them in my younger days, but now when I see them in old photo's, I think they look a little odd, not nearly as bad as the super baggy clothes, which seem better fitted on a clown, because it does seem the definition of silly. So I find 'regular' fit to be the most attractive. It does give room for the boner to expand and breath, yet, still fits the human form without being confining.

And expand his boner did. I could easily feel hit as we hugged. The true beauty of normal clothes. Not tight enough to constrict and hide his erection, and not loose enough for it to get lost in the folds of clothing. Again, perfect, by my taste. I pulled his hips in, and helped him rub himself against me.

After years of keeping my distance, I knew I hadn't popped a boner while watching him, but now I certainly was. And I was glad for my usual lounge pants attire. My cock rubbed against his bum as his little cock poked and rubbed my lower belly.

“My god, Sean, I can't believe how much I needed this,” I moaned out.

“M..me too,” he mumbled as I stroked his back under his shirt. “It feels so...”

“Naughty?” I replied.

“Yeah,” he moaned out.

It was so amazing, his back so smooth against my hands. The few guys I've been with were nothing more than jack off buddies, and even then, I had to concentrate really hard to get there. I had to think about someone like Sean, and now here I was. I praised the fates, the gods and goddesses as I creamed my shorts after about only a minute. Sean stiffened up and let a whimpering squeak escape his lips as he experienced a dry orgasm at the same time.

It took a few minutes for both of us to calm down again. “Wow, that was pretty intense, Sean,” I eventually said.

“Yeah,” he replied and sat up to look at me. “Thanks.”

“Thank you, Sean. I just hope you don't forget me when you find a boyfriend your own age.”

Fear gripped his eyes when I said that. “I don't want a boyfriend my own age, Jim. Please,” he pleaded.

“Way to ruin it, Jim,” I said. “I'm sorry, Sean. You may or may not eventually want someone your own age, that's up to you. For now, I would like us to be together.”

He relaxed again then. “I would like us to be together too.” He then looked down and wiggled his butt a bit. “You did it too. I can feel it soaking through my pants. It feels kinda neat. I like it,” he giggled out.

I looked down. Indeed, I did make a bit of a mess in my shorts. “Alright, bright boy. You probably would like to learn the terminology for such things. Don't be afraid to use that kind of talk around me, though, I'm certain your parents wouldn't like it.”

“Duh,” he said, making me laugh. “Okay, from what I read, you just came, and I had a... dry orgasm?”

“Yep, sharp as a tack, you are, Sean. I guess you probably know the specifics of sex, then.”

“Yeah, but not the real practicality of it.”

“There you go talking like an adult again, you need to relax and be a kid.”

“I can't help it,” he pouted. “I like to read dictionaries.” then he smiled.

“Oh you,” I said, “I'll make you a kid yet.” and I started to tickle him as I carried him and threw him on my bed and increase the tickling. The laughter and giggles were such a joy to hear that I actually got so overwhelmed that I got dizzy and had to stop.

“What's wrong?” he asked, concerned.

I smiled at him. “Nothing, Sean. It's just I haven't heard that sound in such a long time. Come to think of it, I've never even heard it from you before. It's, well, it's a bit intoxicating.”

He thought for a moment. “You get drunk from my laugh?”

“Almost. I don't really know how to explain it. But I think a part of it is how much I've grown to care about you. I guess I haven't kept my distance at all.”

“Good, I want you to stay.”

“If I stay, your parents will think something is up. If I can't come up with a good story as to why I would stay, then you'll have to learn to get on without me. You will need to grow up at some point. Everyone does. No one really knows what the future holds, Sean. I do want to stay though, but not at the expense of what your parents might do to keep you inside that damned box. We can keep in touch, if worse comes to worse, okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed out sadly. But he smiled after a minute. “Well, we might come up with a way for you to stay without alerting my parents. Plus its months away. You say I should act more like a kid, so I will. Let's have fun now.”

I brushed his messy hair from his forehead. “You're not really acting, you know? You are kid. One that's too smart for his own good at times. But it's who you are, you just need to loosen up a bit, and I guess I'm getting a bit of a thrill going against your parents in helping you do that.”

“Me too,” he smiled. “What else can you show me?”

I smiled and pushed up his shirt and started to slowly rub his stomach, getting a bit a moan from him.

“Mmmmmmm, that feels nice,” he said.

I slid his shirt up further and then pulled it off him completely. My eyes devoured his smooth chest and taut tummy. He smiled devilishly as he looked into my eyes. I leaned down and our lips met. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, his reading was going to pay off I think. We frenched for a while, and then I kissed his neck and worked down to each little dime sized nipple, him moaning a squirming all the while.

I stopped for a moment so we could both catch our breath and stared into his eyes. I noticed that they were the same shade of blue as mine, but a little deeper in their intensity. I could get lost in them.

“Wow,” he said when his breathing had calmed some.

I started rubbing his legs through his jeans. Outer thigh, and inner thigh, making him squirm again. I unsnapped them, and slipped my hands inside the back, massaging his but cheeks. The pants slid down a few inches, and his hardness tented the jeans obscenely, or rather, beautifully. He appeared to be average for a ten year old, but there was enough tent to grab, and I slid my right hand out of the back of his pants and did just that. I masturbated him through the jeans until he was squirming so much I couldn't hold him, so I stopped.

“Hey, back on the couch, was that your first time?” I asked as I grabbed some lube and put in on my left hand.

“Um, yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “I mean, I've, um, played with myself sometimes, but I was afraid when I got close, even after reading what was supposed to happen.”

It made me feel so good that I was with him the first time, and I told him so. That made him smile. I wiggled my lubed up left hand at him and he giggled. I slipped my left hand back down his backside as I slowly squeezed his tent with my right. I wiggled my left middle finger and slipped it into his anus with him moaning and squirming again.

“How does that feel?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him.

“That...feels...awesome,” he said between breaths.

I hoped it would, as a finger really is a bit smaller than the fecal matter from a boy his size. I picked up the pace with both hands and his squirming started to increase. He spread his arms out and gripped the sheets as I started to kiss his neck and chest.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he said rapidly when I sucked on one of his little nipples.

I sawed in and out of his hole with my finger and jacked his cock with my right hand ever faster. He started whimpering so I tried to hit his prostate and give him a really big thrill. The moment I hit it he practically sat up as his orgasm hit.

“Awe shit!” he gasped out in a clipped breath.

I felt a warm wetness spreading in my right hand as he moaned out, “Oh god!”

I just held him there against me as his orgasm continued and he peed his pants.

“Oh wow, that was better than before,” he was finally able to gasp out as he slowly came down from his orgasm.

His eyes suddenly got wide but I shushed him before he said anything. “It's okay, Sean. Sometimes that spot I hit it your bum can trigger your bladder. It's the prostate, as I'm sure you can guess once you can think proper again. Main thing his, did you like it?”

He nodded his head. “It felt kinda neat.”

“Have you read about fetishes?” Again he nodded. “Well, you may develop one for peeing your pants, if you liked it.” I then put my wet right hand under my nose and inhaled deeply. “Aaah,” I said as he watched thoughtfully. “I have a bit of one for boy pee, myself. It's seems a bit more sweet and sour in its smell than adult pee. Another one of those weird things about me.”

He nodded his head again. “I like how it felt shooting into my pants. Is that what it will feel like when I can shoot for real?”

“Yeah, a little, only cum isn't any where near as much as when you pee,” I answered back.

He took my hand and sniffed a bit and wiggled his legs. “It does smell kinda neat too, and I think I like how warm and wet it is. Now its' getting cold, and, um...” he trailed off.

“You're not turned on by it anymore, and you want to get changed?” I asked with a slight smile.

“Uh, yeah. How did you know? I never read that on the Internet.”

“Well, that's what can happen once the orgasm is over. I'm surprised you didn't find that on the Internet. Anyway, it is getting late, so let's clean you up. Don't want the nanny to get curious.”