So, here we are at Part 4. Excited? Well, Brad and Adam seem to be. Part 3 brought us more swimming, showering, sleeping together, all sorts of fun stuff. When we last left our lovebirds, Adam had just released a bit of... tension. Out of sight, Brad joined in the act, and now wonders just what he's gotten into while Adam has headed upstairs to the hot tub. Before we join them, as always, please consider donating a buck or two to Nifty. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it all adds up, and I'm sure it would be much appreciated. Also much appreciated are your comments. You've all been wonderful so far. I've never received such a response, and I'm glad the story is resonating so well with so many. Your emails are the highlight of my day, so please feel free to send one to me at rwxxx13@yahoo.com.

You And I Both

Part 4

Adam was struggling to lift the cover off the hot tub as I arrived upstairs. His back was to me, and I took a moment to admire the perfection of his adorable little ass. He had a perfect bubble butt, round and high, muscled yet plump, smooth and unblemished and pale in contrast to his thighs and back. I hurried over and helped him to lift the cover and lean it against the wall. Then Adam climbed in, the tiny, pink rosebud between his cheeks winking at me for a moment. I followed him into the water.

Adam turned to me and eagerly asked, “Can I turn on the bubbles?”

“Sure.”

He joined me at the control panel. “Which one is it?”

I leaned close to him, glancing at his sloping back, leading to the delicious rise of his buttocks, which were half-hidden underwater. “That one,” I pointed. Adam depressed the button and, after the familiar rumble, the jets kicked on and we were suddenly in a frothy soup.

“What's this one do?” he asked, then depressed another button. Thumping country music surrounded us. Adam laughed with delight. I was delighted myself. Truth to tell, I'd barely been in the hot tub and I was unaware of all its features. I knew how to turn on the jets and adjust the heat, because my contractor had put together a list of basics about the house. Guess he didn't see the need for more, or figured I'd discover it myself. Adam pushed another button and blue LED lights switched on all around us. Another, and a little foot wide waterfall began to cascade out of the side. What had I paid for this thing?

Adam turned to me, eyes dancing. “Ok, this is the coolest thing ever,” he said loudly, having to talk over the jets and Toby Keith singing about his favorite bar.

I laughed. “It's pretty cool,” I agreed loudly, then with an adjustment to the volume, I could lower my voice to a normal level as Toby was quieted and said, “but I don't want to chase all the fish to the other side of the lake.”

Adam giggled and moved over so that the waterfall was cascading over his shoulders. “This feels good,” he said. He moved towards me and grabbed my arm. “Try it!”

At his urging, I moved to the seat he'd vacated and let the waterfall wash over my back. It really was rather soothing. “Nice,” I smiled.

“My turn,” Adam said, then made to move across the tub again when his eyes flew open and he yelped. Then he giggled and wiggled. Say that five times fast. It's not hard, but it is funny.

“What?” I asked.

“Water is shootin' in my butt!” he said. He giggled again.

Lucky water, I thought. I sat and waited to see how long it would take him to move, but my patience wasn't rewarded. He just knelt there, pale little butt cheeks half out of the water, wiggling slightly, obviously to feel the play of the jet of water over his sensitive pucker. He was biting his lip again, the lower one this time. He looked up at me, eyes sparkling, and giggled.

“What now?” I asked, amused.

“I'm gettin' a boner again,” he confessed with a smile.

“Stay there too much longer and you'll get more than that,” I told him with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

I quirked an eyebrow at him. “What happened downstairs?” I said, hinting strongly.

Adam had the good grace to blush. He looked back over his tanned shoulder at his untanned ass. “Really?”

“Really,” I assured him.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “All that stuff is connected,” I said. Not a scientific answer, but then I wasn't a biologist.

With what seemed a regretful shrug of his own, Adam moved away from the jet that was molesting him and moved towards me. He put his knees on either side of my legs, then he held out his hands to my shoulders, palm up, so the water was cascading over them. After a few moments, he turned his hands over and placed them on my shoulders. He settled his center, his thighs resting on mine, and looked me in the eyes. It was a serious look.

Finally, he licked his gently pink lips and said softly, “Do you really love me?”

I didn't have a ready response to that, a profession of romantic love, or even familial. So I simply nodded.

Adam smiled softly. Then, rocking forward a bit hesitantly, once, twice, he finally darted in and graced me with a soft lipped kiss on my mouth, quick, but gentle. Then he leaned back to judge my response. I smiled, and he slowly smiled himself. Then he pressed himself against me, wrapping his skinny arms around my neck, his head on my shoulder. I let my arms enfold him, my hand gently stroking his back.

After awhile, maybe five minutes, I felt Adam's stiffness pressing into my stomach. He was humping me very gently. I was fairly sure he was doing it unconsciously. “Hey, Adam?” I said gently.

“Hmm?”

“Yo, sex monkey!” I said louder.

Adam pulled back enough to look at me. “What?” he asked with a giggle.

“Unless you know something about anatomy that I don't, I don't think that goes there,” I smirked.

“Huh?”

I quirked an eyebrow out him and glanced down pointedly. He glanced down and blushed brightly and then giggled, sliding his ass back along my thighs to break the contact against my belly. “Sorry.”

“You have a license to carry that thing?”

Adam giggled again and reached down under the water. I knew him well enough by now to know his fist was wrapped tightly around his little member. “I can't help it,” he said with a smile.

“I know,” smiling to show I wasn't at all upset. “I was eleven once myself you know.”

“Did you get stiffies all the time, too?”

I shook my head. “Nah, I think I just got one when I was eleven and it lasted until I was fifteen.”

He laughed. “That can't really happen,” he insisted.

“Sure it can.”

He shook his head. “No, cause when you... you know... it gets soft again.”

“Well, you're certainly the expert on 'you know',” I allowed.

He smiled, and then that smile grew uncertain and faded. “It's not bad to do it, is it?”

“'You know'?” I asked. He nodded. “No, of course not,” I assured him. “When I was your age, or maybe a little older, I'd do it four or five times a day.”

Adam's eyes widened. “Four or FIVE?” He giggled.

I nodded solemnly. “Sometimes even more,” I confessed.

Adam laughed and said, “You're the one who's the sex monkey!”

I nodded ruefully. “It's true. I confess.”

A sexy lip bite, letting me know he was thinking sexual thoughts. “Brad?”

“Adam?”

He grinned, then continued shyly, “When did you get hair? You know, around your wiener.”

“I'm not the best person to go by,” I told him. “I was a late bloomer.”

“What's that?”

“It means I started puberty later than most other boys. I didn't get any pubes until I was fourteen.”

“What's pubes?”

I grinned. “Pubic hair. The hair around your wiener.” I couldn't help but chuckle at my own use of the word wiener.

“You were fourteen?” I nodded. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “Do you think it will take me that long?”

“Nah, I don't think so,” I said. “Pretty sure you've already started puberty.”

“How can you tell?”

Well, there was a good question. Was it weird that I knew so much about the sexual development of boys? Well, not weird to you guys, I mean to people in general. Do 'normal' people know as much about that as we do, or is that knowledge reserved for pediatricians, geneticists, and boylovers?

“Well, there's your size for one. That's not necessarily an indicator. You could just be blessed. Mostly it's your balls.”

“My balls?” he giggled.

“Yup, do you remember when you were a little kid and they were small and really tight in their little sac?” He nodded. “Well, when you start puberty, they start to hang lower, and separate a bit, and your sac usually gets a little darker.”

Of course, I should have seen where that was going to take us. Am I coming across as oblivious as I felt? Adam lifted himself so that his crotch was out of the water, his pale, slender erection less than a foot from my face, glistening with wetness. He was pulling on the loose skin of his scrotum, examining his balls.

“Geez, Adam,” I said, pulling my face back a bit. “You're gonna put someone's eye out.” Adam laughed and gripped his small cock. “Can you put that thing away before someone gets hurt?”

Adam released his grip, holding just a single finger against the tip of his dick. He pushed it down so it was pointing straight at me. Then he released it and it sprang upward. “You like looking at it,” he said, a bit slyly, as if he were telling me a secret. Push down, spring up. Push down, spring up.

I fixed a look of condescension on my face. “Why would I want to look at your little wiener?” I insisted.

Adam shrugged. Push down, spring up. “You do, though.” He was grinning.

It was a struggle to tear my eyes away. Worse, Adam knew it. He let his hand fall to his side, and just knelt there, his stiff little cock throbbing. Softly, he said, “You can touch it if you want.”

I drew a breath to protest. Instead, I said weakly, “Adam...”

“I don't mind,” he said gently. “I want you to.”

I felt a sudden need to do something with my hands. Something other than reaching forward that is. Adam's pubescent cock filled my vision, mesmerizing me. My hands reached out and found his legs. I slid them up along his thighs, delighting in the smooth, hairless flesh, slick as an otter. I reached his naked hips, then moved back down, caressing him from knees to hips. Adam's cock twitched. Mine was pressing painfully against the restricting cloth of my trunks.

“Please?”

I groaned. That word. I knew I couldn't look up, couldn't meet those eyes, or I'd be lost. My hands were on his hips and I pushed, sliding him back off my lap. “C'mon, sex monkey,” I said, forcing a casual playfulness to my voice that was fooling no one. “You're crushing my lap.”

Adam allowed himself to be pushed away. From the corner of my eye I saw him searching my face, then he lowered his eyes and moved to the other side of the hot tub, sitting on the bench, drawing his knees up against his chest and hugging his legs, chin on knees. I could see the dejection on his face and in his eyes. He'd been rejected and he thought it was his fault, some failing with him. When he swiped an angry little fist over his eyes, wiping away a tear, I once again felt my heart squeeze in my chest.

Not knowing what to say, what to do, but knowing I had to do something, I once again found myself on my knees before him. This was my proper place, bowing in submission and adoration before this boy who had become my everything, my reason, my purpose, my love. I reached out to put my hands gently on his slim shoulders, but he angrily shrugged them off. Adam pressed his eyes against his knees, hiding himself from me.

“Adam,” I began gently, but he refused to meet my eyes. “Adam, look at me.” Nothing. Insistently then, with force, “Look at me, Adam.”

Slowly then, Adam lifted his head, naked emotion written on his face, eyes shining with his tears. Why did this keep happening? Was I protecting him or hurting him? Every part of me wanted to go to him, to give him what he so obviously wanted. Hell, what I wanted. Still, the urge to fight against that was so ingrained in me that I didn't know how to combat it, or if I should even try. If I allowed myself to love him, not just emotionally, but in the much more relevant physical sense, would I be causing him permanent harm, as I'd always believed? Or would it be my refusal to give in to what seemed so natural, so loving and giving and right, that would be the catalyst for damage? I was so conflicted, but the one thing I knew for certain was that I couldn't leave him sitting here, thinking that I didn't care, that I didn't love him, that I didn't yearn for him. That I couldn't do.

I reached out and took his head in my hands, one on either side of his face, being especially gentle with his blackened eye. I met his eyes, staring, trying by force of will to allow him to see all the love there I had for him. “Adam,” I began, but my voice broke and I had to swallow and start over.

“Adam, I love you. I want you to believe that. That's the first and most important thing, ok?” His head moved in my hands as he gave a slight nod. “Ok,” I said relieved. “The second most important thing...” and I paused. Gathering my courage, I continued. “The second most important thing is that you were right. I do like looking at you. I love looking at you. Looking at you makes me feel happy and warm and special. Ok?”

He nodded again. “Ok. So... the third important thing is that I very much want to touch you. To touch all of you. You have no idea how badly I want to do that, but you have to understand that I can't.”

“Why not?” he asked. His voice barely more than a whisper, unheard over the jets, but I was able to understand him anyway.

I took a deep breath to explain. “Because...” but how did I explain that? I shook my head, overwhelmed by the enormity of the explanation, but realized I had to keep it simple. “Because people think that when a man does things like that with a boy, that the boy is hurt by it. Inside. Not in your body, but in your mind and heart and spirit.” Adam opened his mouth, surely with a protest, but I bulled on. “And it sounds stupid to you, and maybe stupid to me too, but that's what many, many people believe. They call it molesting because they see it as something nasty and harmful and intrusive. I don't know if they're right or if they're wrong. What I do know is two important things. The first, and the most important, is that I could never, ever, do anything to hurt you, and if they are even a little right, if doing that hurt you somehow, I could never forgive myself. The second thing,” and I smiled ruefully, “is that the people who think that? They are the ones with the handcuffs, and jails, and helicopters, and all the laws on their side.”

I paused and looked at him, trying to judge his reaction. “Do you understand?”

I could see him digesting it. Several emotions drifted over his face. Finally, softly, he said, “I understand.”

I let loose a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Then Adam smiled slyly and said, “You want to touch my wiener.”

“Oh, my god,” I gasped in shock and exasperation and laughter. I sank backwards into the water. I caught Adam's eyes, dancing with mischief, and said, “You're insane.”

He grinned cheekily and said, “You're a perv.”

I sank under the water, laughing.

*             *            *             *            *

Before dinner, I insisted that we go to Adam's house. He needed clothes at the very least and I didn't feel comfortable with him spending two nights in row without talking to his mother. He said he didn't need more clothes, and when I insisted, said he would run home on his own and get some. I told him not to be silly. So far as I was aware, I was at least a mile and a half from the nearest habitation, unless you counted going by boat across the lake. It was already dark.

So, after getting both of us dressed, I led a very reluctant eleven-year-old out to my truck. Adam gave me directions, but he was fidgeting badly in his seat. I wasn't sure what was making him so nervous. As we came to his house, I thought I understood. Adam reluctantly pointed out a turn, which took us into a small trailer park. It was a mean, depressing little place, the trailers dingy and most of the small yards not at all maintained. I felt horrible. Adam obviously hadn't wanted me to see this.

“You know,” I said, wanting to somehow reassure him, “it doesn't matter where you live, right? It doesn't mean anything about who you are.” Adam shrugged. He pointed me to a dingy white trailer with torn curtains in one window, and cardboard over another. There was a small carport, but it was empty. Adam seemed relieved to see that.

“See? She's not home,” he said. “I'll just run in and get some clothes, ok?” He unsnapped his belt. He obviously didn't want me to see inside the place. I couldn't blame him.

I was torn. I'd really wanted to talk to his mother, but if she wasn't home, she wasn't home. Finally I said, “Ok, you run in and grab your things, but I'm going to stay here and call your mom. What's her number?”

Adam looked stricken. He stared at me in alarm. “She won't hear it,” he said. “She's at the bar so it's noisy. She never hears when I call.”

“Well, I want to at least try,” I explained. “What's the number, Adam?”

“It might not even work,” he said, desperation in his voice. “Sometimes she doesn't pay the bill and they shut it off.”

I sighed and slowly put my phone away. Finally, I turned to look at him, understanding finally dawning. “You never called her, did you?” Adam slumped dejectedly. “Adam, I don't like being lied to,” I said somberly.

“But she really doesn't care!” he said, a hitch in his voice, pleading. “I swear! If... if I told her, she... sometimes she does stuff just to be mean. She hates me!”

I shook my head sadly. “Adam, your mother doesn't hate you.”

“She does!” he screamed. “You don't know! She would have said no just because I wanted to and then later she woulda kicked me out of the house anyways cause she doesn't GIVE A SHIT!”

“Adam,” I said, trying for calm. I was alarmed. Adam was manic. I could see the desperation and fear in his eyes.

“One time I stayed in the woods for three days,” he went, desperate to get it out. “You know what she said when I got back? DO YOU? She said, 'take out the trash and get out of my FUCKING sight!' You don't know!”

And with a sob, Adam was out of my truck and running away into the dark. I made to jump out after him, but got caught up by my seatbelt. By the time I fumbled it open and got out of the truck, there was no sign of him. Still, I ran to the middle of the drive and stared into the dark, ready to follow and track him down.

“Who're you?” asked a voice from off to my right. I turned to see an old woman standing in the doorway of the trailer opposite. She was dressed in a ratty white nightgown. She leaned on an aluminum cane, gripping it tightly with a veined and wrinkled hand.

“I,” I began, but my eyes were drawn to the darkness where Adam had disappeared. I sighed and turned to the woman. I walked to stand a few feet away on the little sidewalk running up to her door. “My name is Brad Canyon,” I told her. “I just moved into town a few weeks ago. I live out-”

“Out in that big place on the lake,” she interrupted, a bit impatiently. “What is it you want with Adam?”

“You know him?” I asked, rather stupidly, and answered my own question. “Of course you do.” I took a breath and said, “I met him a few days ago. We're... friends, I guess. I let him stay at my home last night, but only because he'd told me his mother had given him permission.” I gestured vaguely into the darkness after Adam. “Turns out she hadn't.”

The old woman nodded. “And you're upset he didn't tell you, and he's upset trying to explain why he didn't.”

“In a nutshell,” I agreed.

She nodded again. She was silent for a few moments and then said, “Gonna help matters any if I tell ya to get your head outta your ass?”

“Pardon me?” I said, half shocked, half offended. Ok, and half confused. Is that too many halves?

She shifted and pointed her cane at me. “That little boy needs every tiny scrap of happiness he can gather to him. That... woman,” and she spat it like a curse, “is worthless trash. What's worse, she's mean trash, and the main focus of all that poison is that sweet little boy. But in spite of growing up with all that hate and ugliness, he's just as sweet, and trusting, and full of love as she is full of hate.”

She lowered her cane, breathing hard, obviously a bit worn out by her tirade. “We do the best we can for him, me and some of the other folks around here. Make sure he gets a good meal in him from time to time, gets a haircut, some decent clothes when we can, but we're only doin' so much. So, Mr. Man,” she continued softly, “Mr. New York City, if you got the means, and some love in your heart, well, you do right by that boy, because God knows he deserves it.”

By this time I had tears in my eyes. I stared at her, unashamed of my tears, but deeply shamed by my behavior. I walked up to her and took her hand. It was small and dry in my hands. “What's your name, Ma'am?”

“Edith,” she said, a hint of tears welling in her own rheumy eyes. “Edith Monroe.”

“Well, Ms. Monroe,” I said, squeezing her hand lightly, “you have my word that I will pull my head out of my ass.”

She smiled and squeezed my hand. She nodded, and patted my hand awkwardly with the hand holding her cane. “He'll be down to the culvert,” she said. “That's where he goes to hide himself away. Just follow the road around. At your second turn, instead of goin' right, take a left through the field. Culvert's before you hit the treeline.”

I thanked her and watched her retreat back into her trailer. Ok, then. The culvert. What the hell was a culvert? Like, a ditch or something, right? I went to the end of the road and took a right. The park was basically a horseshoe shape. The second right would have led out of the park. I took the left instead, walking between two trailers and into the field beyond. Loud country music wafted from one trailer, the sounds of a game show from the other. The noise followed me across the field. I kicked myself for not grabbing a flashlight from the truck.

After maybe fifty feet or so, I heard the faint sound of water. There was enough moonlight to show me a dip in the landscape ahead, and I could just make out the dark curve of a large drain opening a bit to my left. Oh, right. A culvert.

I could hear Adam's hiccuping sobs as I drew closer. Not wanting to break something in the darkness, I called out, “Adam?” The sobs ceased, replaced by sniffles.

“Adam, I'm sorry. Please come back to the truck with me,” I called out gently. Nothing. “Edith told me where to find you,” I said, hoping that might help. “You know Mrs. Monroe, right? She's worried about you, Adam.” More soft sniffling.

“Are you g-gonna m-make me call my m-mom?” he asked softly.

“No, Adam. I had a talk with Edith. She... she told me about your mom. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I didn't know. Can you forgive me?”

I waited, but there was only silence. I was just gathering myself to pick my way down the hill when Adam appeared out of the gloom. He stopped for a moment, looking at me. He looked so tiny with his oversized t-shirt and bare legs. Then he rushed forward with a sob and buried his face against my chest, his arms wrapped tight around my waist. I held him tightly as he cried, one arm around his shoulders, one curved gently over his head, stroking his hair.

“C'mon,” I said gently, “let's get out of here.”

Adam wasn't ready, or perhaps able, to walk, so I lifted him. He buried his face in my neck, arms hugging, long legs wrapping around my waist. I held him with one hand on his back and my right arm supporting him under his butt. I walked back between the trailers with their competing noises and along the dark little road that ran through the park. As I neared Adam's trailer, I saw Edith standing in her window, the curtain held aside. She met my eyes, nodded, and dropped the drapery back in place.

“Ok, Adam, I need you to run inside and get whatever you think you'll need, ok?”

He nodded against my neck and softly whispered, “Ok.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked. I set him down on his feet, but he hesitated for a moment to release my neck, keeping me bent over.

After a moment he released me and I straightened. “I'll be ok,” he said softly. “I'll be right back.”

So he left my side and slipped into the sad little trailer he called home. I waited outside, glancing around with a bit of discomfort. Was anyone else watching? What did they think? Edith had been wonderful, but what would most people think, seeing a strange man taking a child away from his home? After a minute, I decided I didn't care. I knew in my heart I was doing what was best for Adam.

Finally, the door of the trailer opened, and Adam appeared in the doorway with a school backpack slung over one shoulder, dragging a cheap plastic laundry basket behind him. The basket seemed to be mostly filled with books.

“Can I bring my books?” he asked.

“Of course, bring anything you want,” I said, then I stepped forward and grabbed the basket. I was surprised by the weight and grunted a bit as I lifted it. I deposited it in the bed of the truck while Adam crawled into the passenger seat. I went to his door and made sure he buckled his belt. “Do you need anything else from in there?” He shook his head.

“Ok, then.” I shut his door and walked around to the driver's side. I opened the door, slid behind the wheel, and started the truck.

“Don't forget your belt,” Adam said quietly.

I gave him a smile. “Thanks.” I carefully buckled my belt and got the hell out of that depressing little hellhole.

Adam didn't say a word on the drive back to my house, and I honored his silence. As we pulled up the drive, I used the remote to open the garage door and pulled inside. As the door closed behind us, I looked at Adam. He was once again sitting with his legs pulled to his chest, arms around his shins. I unbuckled and slid from the truck, grabbing Adam's backpack.

I went around to his side and opened his door. Then I ducked my head and said, “Ok, you can get the laundry basket,” and I walked to the door that would lead out the side of the garage.

It must have taken a second for that to register, as I was through the door when I heard Adam call out, “Wait! Brad!”

I turned and saw him getting out of the truck. He saw me stopped and smiled. “I can't lift it.”

“What? So I have to carry it? It's really heavy.”

“That's why you have to carry it,” he smiled.

“Hmm, I don't know. Maybe you could carry one book at a time. That should only take an hour or so.”

Adam giggled. It was a tired sounding giggle, but it was something, and a tightness in my chest loosened. “Please?” he said sweetly.

I sighed. “Fine, but you owe me!” I handed him his backpack and wrestled the heavy basket out of the bed of the truck. I grunted. “Are there bricks under the books?”

“Only a couple,” Adam giggled again. “It's mostly rocks.”

“Like the ones in your brain,” I said.

“You're the one with rocks for brains,” he countered, weakly I thought. I mean, that's the equivalent of PeeWee Herman's 'I know you are, but what am I?' argument.

“Am not,” I responded. Quick-witted, that's what I am.

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he danced lightly ahead of me. “Who's carrying the basket?”

Did I say I was the quick-witted one?

 *            *             *            *            *

Inside, Adam asked, “Where should I put my stuff?”

Well now, that was a good question, wasn't it? I thought about it a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

I led him to the larger of the two downstairs bedrooms. “This can be your bedroom,” I said.

“But I want to stay with you!” he said, stricken.

“You can,” I assured him. “But, to be on the safe side, we'll keep your things in here. Remember what I said about the authorities?” He nodded. “Well, if someone were to show up here, it would look pretty suspicious if all your things were in my bedroom, right? So keep your things in here, so if someone ever does show up we can point to all your stuff and say, 'See? He has his own bedroom'.”

He looked at me like I was a dog who'd learned a new trick. “That's smart,” he said.

“Stop,” I said dryly. “You'll make me blush.”

Adam smiled and we proceeded to store his few belongings in the room. He had only two pairs of jeans, both rather ragged. He had more shirts, but most of them were oversized. This made a lot more sense after talking to Edith Monroe. These were obviously hand-me-downs or second-hand clothes gathered by the people in the park who'd taken it upon themselves to look after Adam. He had only a few pairs of socks and underwear. He had more books than he did clothes, which we carefully stored on the shelves about the room. Most were books on birds and birdwatching. Or birding. Whatever.

“There we go,” I said, once everything was stored. “The perfect disguise. So, what do you want for dinner?”

“I'm not really hungry,” he said softly. He was still looking around the room. I could only imagine he was seeing his belongings in a new light, perhaps wondering what it would be like to have always had a room like this. Or perhaps I just have an active imagination. “Can we get in the hot tub? We never did it at night. It would be neat with all the lights and stuff.”

“After dinner,” I insisted.

To be honest, I wasn't all that hungry myself. As Adam didn't seem overly inclined to enjoy waiting, I just microwaved a couple of frozen dinners. They weren't very good, but Adam devoured his quickly.

“Now can we go?” he asked, the eagerness in his voice the most emotion he'd shown since arriving home.

“Yes, we can go,” I smiled.

He hopped eagerly off his stool and raced a few feet then stopped and turned. “Can we go naked?” he asked.

“Adam,” I said warningly.

“Please?”

I sighed and chuckled helplessly. “Fine.”

“Yay!” Adam grinned and raced up the stairs, already pulling off his shirt.

I had only to follow the trail of discarded clothing. Shirt, sock, shorts, another sock. I puzzled that one a moment then continued. Briefs. And there was Adam, pale ass glowing in the moonlight as he muscled the cover off the hot tub. He stumbled and I started to race forward, but he caught himself, and with a grunt of effort managed to get the cover off and up against the wall. Then he was in the tub, bent over the control panel. The lights flickered on first, a blue glow rising from the tub to cast his nude body in shimmering cerulean shades. Soft country music rose into the night, and then, with a roar, the jets fired.

Adam turned to see me watching him. He grinned. “Get in,” he ordered.

I snapped off a salute, earning a grin, and began to strip. Adam watched me avidly, smiling the while, especially as I pushed down and stepped out of my briefs. He looked around a moment, then turned back to the panel. The jets died.

He slid down to sit and said, “The jets are too loud at night,” by way of explanation.

I joined Adam in the tub. I took a moment to examine the panel myself. It was wired for satellite radio, and I quickly found a jazz station that sounded decent. I sat opposite Adam, but the moment I settled he swam across to me and climbed into my lap, straddling my thighs. He wrapped his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder. I embraced him gently, slowly rubbing his back, just letting the water and the music and the night suffuse us.

“I love you, Brad,” Adam said softly a couple of minutes later.

“I love you, too, honey,” I said.

Another five minutes passed in comfortable silence. Adam's voice came to me again, saying, “This is nice, huh?”

“Very nice,” I agreed.

“I like this music.”

“I'm glad.”

“Is this jazz?”

“Yup.”

“My music teacher played us some before. I like it.”

“It's very relaxing,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, snuggling against me.

Another minute passed. Then, “Brad?”

“Hmm?”

Adam hesitated a moment. I thought I could feel his heart beating faster against my chest. “Can I kiss you?” he finally asked.

“Of course, if you want to,” I said.

“I mean a real kiss,” he said softly.

“Oh,” I said. “A real kiss.”

“Can I?” He still hadn't lifted his head off my shoulder. I could feel his warm breath on my skin when he spoke.

“Have you ever given anyone a real kiss before, Adam?” I asked gently.

He didn't answer right away. His breath continued on my shoulder. Then, so quiet I could barely hear him over the music, he said, “I never loved anybody before.”

Ok. Wow. There's a declaration for you. I mean, yeah, we'd told each other we loved each other before. Several times in fact, and I'm sure we both meant it, but this was on another level of magnitude, wasn't it?

“Do you know how to give a real kiss?” I asked.

Head still on my shoulder he said, “Will you show me?”

“Look at me,” I said gently. He raised his head and we just looked at other. I couldn't tell what I was seeing in his eyes. Longing perhaps. Yes, that. And abandon. Fear. Tenderness. Need. Frailty. Strength. I suppose that all somehow adds up to love.

I reached up a hand to caress his face. He leaned into my hand, his eyes closing. I lifted my other hand, traced my thumb over his soft, tender lips. Then I gently pulled him towards me. With as much love and tenderness as I could muster, I pressed my lips to his. They were warmth and softness. I pressed against them gently, but Adam wanted a real kiss. I let my tongue slip forward carefully, probing his, seeking permission. I felt them part just a bit, and my tongue slid past them. Adam gasped softly in my mouth.

I gently explored the wet heat of Adam's mouth. My tongue touched his. Slowly, uncertainly, he pressed it to mine, and then we began a hesitant dance, slipping and sliding. My tongue retreated, and Adam eagerly followed, then carefully explored my mouth. Then our tongues were back together swirling around each other, our breathing increasing in speed.

My hands left Adam's face, drifting down over his back, caressing his lean muscles, my fingers dancing down over each individual vertebrae. Between my legs, my cock was rising, eventually settling into the warm cleft of Adam's ass, unable to rise any higher, throbbing there. Adam began to move against it, slowly at first, then finding a slightly faster, regular rhythm, his own stiff penis sliding against my belly. My hands slid down over his taut ass, fingers dancing up and down in the cleft over satiny skin.

Dammit, I wasn't supposed to be letting this happen. I pulled back, gasping like a drowning man. I was opening my mouth to explain, to put a stop to this, when Adam, breathing quickly himself said, “I'm not stupid, you know.”

Well, that shut me up. “I don't think you are, Adam,” I said, confused.

“You said that if you do this... do sex stuff with me, that you'll hurt me. In my head or something. I'm not stupid. You're not tricking me into doing it. I want to do it. I'm not a little kid either. I'm smart enough to make up my own mind about stuff.”

I had no counter for that argument, but I felt compelled to voice one. “Adam...” I began.

“Shut up,” he said, and then he was kissing me again, this time with a new level of passion.

So I shut up, and took Edith's advice and pulled my head out of my ass and hungrily kissed the most beautiful boy in the world. Sensing my surrender, Adam unwrapped his arms from around my neck. I shuddered as I felt them on the front of my body, rubbing, exploring. My hands drifted back down to Adam's ass, but he pushed back against them suddenly. My cock, free from restriction, shot upward. Then Adam's body was pressed to mine again, trapping my throbbing cock against his groin, his own trembling little penis pressed against mine.

My fingers discovered the tiny pucker between Adam's legs. I ran a finger over it, and felt him shudder against me. Then I was gently circling it while Adam's tongue attacked my mouth, moaning loudly. I circled around and around the rubbery little sphincter, and then I pressed against it lightly. I felt Adam tense in my arms, pressing his cock hard against my groin, gasping in my mouth. I continued to press until, with a pop, my finger slid inside him to the first knuckle.

“Hrrnng!” Adam grunted. Or something like that. He pulled back and stared wide-eyed at me. “Brad!” he said softly, in awe, as my finger slowly began to slide in and out of his tightly clenching asshole.

Adam shivered, and then he was kissing me again. His small hands were then dancing down along my stomach, and before I was even prepared for it I felt his hand brush against my cock, and then he was taking it in his fist. He immediately started an up and down movement, and then it was my turn to gasp and pull back from the kiss.

“Adam,” I began.

“It's so big,” he said, his fist working on my cock, his eyes wide with wonder.

Well, that was a first, I thought, feeling a strange flush of pride. Then, oh my God, am I a boylover because I just wanted someone to say my dick was big? Is that why I'm so attracted to small boy cocks? Is that why I don't like boys with big cocks? To be honest, I've always felt I had a case of what I call BL dick, which is male equipment more suited to making love with a small boy than an adult male or female. I'd come to think of it as genetic proof that I was meant to be a boylover, but was it really just because I'm unconsciously so self-conscious about my size that I've set my sights on boys as sexual partners to feel somehow superior?

Ok, way too much thought going into that comment. I've always loved boys. I've never felt ashamed of my size. I needed to get a grip.  I gained control over my voice and tried again. “Adam.” He met my eyes. “Maybe we should take this inside,” I suggested.

“To your bed?” he asked. I nodded. He thought for a moment, biting his lip, then nodded.

I started shutting down hot tub features while Adam climbed out of the tub behind me. He started pulling on the cover. I quickly joined him and together we got it into place. For a moment afterward we just stood and stared at each other. We were both incredibly hard, our cocks bouncing, pale enough to still be seen in the new darkness caused by lights in the tub shutting off. I grabbed a towel and quickly toweled off, then did the same for Adam.

I started for the bedroom, but Adam stopped me, opened his arms and said, “Carry me.”

So I leaned down while he half jumped into my arms. I hugged him against my chest, his erection poking me, mine just barely brushing against his taut asscheeks, his mouth eagerly hunting mine. Locked together, I staggered to my room, having to use my peripheral vision to guide us safely around obstacles. Then we were in my room and I was dumping him gently into the pillowy softness of my bed.

Adam stared up at me with lust-filled eyes. He was spread out artfully on the bed, hair a burning halo around the pillow, legs spread invitingly, the slender stalk between his thighs throbbing with his need. He wanted this. I wanted this, but there was one last bit of (ir?)rationality within me.

I stood gazing down on him, a fantasy come to life, and said, “Adam, you're beautiful.”

He smiled up at me. “So are you.”

I flushed at the compliment. “I just... I just have to make sure,” I told him. I held up a hand when he started to talk. “Just let me say a couple things, ok?” He nodded carefully. “I do want you,” I assured him. “I just want to make sure you're here for the right reasons. I... you have to know, Adam, that this,” and I waved a vague hand between us, “doesn't have to happen if you don't want it to. What I mean to say is, you can stay here, as long as you want or as long as fate allows it, forever as far as I'm concerned. Even if this doesn't happen, you can stay. I just... I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, thinking maybe you owe me or something. I want you to be here because you want to be here. For you.”

Adam rolled his eyes at me and gave a sigh of exasperation. “You're so stupid sometimes, Brad.”

“Uh... well, yeah. I guess we've established that,” I replied, feeling a bit of chagrin.

Adam rose up on his elbows. “I know we've only known each for a few days,” he said, “but to me it feels like forever.”

“For me, too,” I assured him.

“I'm not some confused little kid,” he told me. “I know what I want. I know I'm gay. I've known since I was a little kid. And I'm not doin' this 'cause you're the first gay guy I ever met or something. I want to do this. I've wanted to do it for a long time when I met someone I loved. Ok? You get it now?”

My heart melted. “I get it,”I said softly, swallowing against a sudden lump in my throat.

Adam smiled, and flopped onto his back. “Then could you please come and molest me now?”

I laughed. “I think I can manage that.”

I lay down on Adam's left side. I sidled up until I was pressed against his body. I laid my hand against his smooth chest, feeling his heat and softness. “Just one more thing,” I said and Adam made as if to protest but I put my fingers over his lips. “Shhhh. This is important.” Adam nodded. “I just want you to know, this is all for you, Adam. If something feels weird, if something makes you uncomfortable, physically or otherwise, you tell me right away and it stops. Ok? We have a deal?”

“Deal,” he said against my fingers.

I smiled and replaced my fingers with my lips. I couldn't get over how soft Adam's lips were. His skin in general was like silk. I kissed his lips lightly, then playfully licked them until they spread to allow me access, then I slipped my tongue between them. One of Adam's hands slid down my stomach, questing. I grabbed his wrist and pulled back, looking down at him devilishly.

“Uh-huh,” I grinned. Then I took his wrist and captured his other as well, and clasping them in my left hand, lifted them above his head, baring him to me while simultaneously making him my captive. He bit his upper lip and stared at me with hooded eyes.

I smiled and leaned down, kissing his throat, his immature Adam's apple moving against my lips as he swallowed. With a combination of licks and kisses, I made my way along Adam's jaw to his ear. I took the delicate little lobe, so rarely seen for his cloud of hair, and lightly nibbled it. Adam gasped and writhed underneath me. His little ears were perfect, like... like... well, probably like something very cliché, like seashells or coral or something. I gently traced his ear with my tongue, finally allowing it to dip inside, braving the acrid tang of ear wax for the opportunity to make Adam whimper and squirm beneath my ministrations.

From his ear, I traced my way down his slender neck, stopping to press my lips against his strong pulse, feeling like a vampire, mesmerized by that beat. Adam's armpits were of course hairless. I stared at that muscled little hollow, so smooth and perfect. Leaning close I caught the faintest hint of Adam's boyish musk, somehow reminiscent of rain on plastic. I traced a tongue over the flesh there, leaving a wet trail, Adam's sweat stinging my tastebuds.

From there I traced my way across the smooth perfection of Adam's chest, from the slight hollow in the middle across the immature pectorals. I could count each of his ribs, racing in U shapes along his sides. His areolas were light brown, just slightly darker than his chest, with just a hint of pink at the tip of the nipple. I swiped my tongue across one, then repeated the process until I felt it rise in pebbly stiffness. The areola had shrunk to dime sized, but the nipple itself rose in a tiny bee-stung mound.

“I didn't know nipples could feel like that,” Adam gasped.

I smiled. “Stick with me, kid.”

He grinned with his lower lip between his teeth. It was adorable.

Adam's stomach dipped sharply from the bottom of his ribcage, the stomach muscles bunching, a little hollow between them creating a depression which led to his shallow navel. I traced a finger along that hollow, watching his stomach writhe. Dipping my head, I left a wet trail with my tongue from about two inches above where his little cock bobbed to his navel, swirling it around teasingly. From there I planted a row of soft little kisses across his hairless groin, skirting to the side of his penis. He tried to move his body, forcing his cock towards my mouth, but a hand on one skinny hip halted him. He whined with impatience.

“Greedy boy,” I chided. “All in good time.”

“You're teasing me again,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah, but in a good way. Now hush.”

I had to release his wrists in order to move lower, and as soon as I did, he reached for his cock. “Ah ah ah,” I warned.

“Brad!” he complained.

“Under your head,” I ordered.

“You're mean,” he whined petulantly, but he slid his hands under his head, his upper body twisting, unable to stay still as I kissed down his groin to his thighs. He spread his legs further, but that wasn't my destination, so I ignored him.

I slid down further on the bed, caressing the inside of his left thigh while I kissed and licked my way over the top of it. His legs seemed to go on forever, long and coltish, a smooth expanse of satiny flesh topped, again, with that near invisible golden down, not real hair mind you, not a result of maturation, but the soft hairs that had covered him all his life. His knee had a little line of scrapes, not a result of abuse I'm sure, just the travails of childhood. I even licked them.

Adam thrust his hips upward as I twisted his leg enough to lick behind his knees, and then he squirmed at the surprising sensation. His calves were as smooth and hairless as his thighs. It wasn't until I had nearly reached his ankles before I saw the first hint of approaching adolescence, a little ring of silky hairs, just beginning to creep their way up his leg. I licked his ankle. You've heard the term, a well turned ankle? I've no idea what that means, but I'm sure Adam had it.

Ok, I'm going to admit to not being one of those guys that have a fascination for boys feet. I feel that puts me in a bit of a minority. I'm sorry, I've just never seen the attraction. I mean, not that I can't admire all parts of a boy, but feet have about the same significance to me as knees or elbows. Adam's feet were working hard on converting me. To begin with, they were oversized. I don't know from kid's shoe sizes, but they seemed large to me. Put me in mind of a Labrador puppy. For all their size, they were gracefully turned out. Oh, ok, ankles. I get it now. Anyway, they were delicate and graceful and smooth and pretty and pink. I was getting to that age where my feet got dry and my toenails were getting thick and... ok, sorry, you don't want to hear that. Let's just say that, for you guys who like the feet, imagine the most perfect pair of boy feet you've ever seen, inch the magnitude of awesomeness upward a couple of degrees, and you might come close.

I rose to a sitting position when I reached Adam's feet. Sensing the motion, his eyes, which had been closed, flew open. He gave me a look of such raw longing it almost floored me. His eyes searched out my cock and that little lip of his got a royal chewing. Grinning, I held up his left leg, and brought his foot towards my face. I very roughly, because I didn't want him going all ticklish on me, licked the sole of his foot. His mouth fell open in surprise.

“Did you like that?” I asked. He nodded rapidly. I grinned and did it again. Then, with his eyes locked on what I was doing, I slowly took his big toe into my mouth, sliding my lips over it like it was a squat little cock. Adam apparently drew the same comparison because his eyes rolled upward, his lids fluttering while his whole body shuddered. I began to work my mouth up and down, bobbing my head, allowing him to get a glimpse of what it would be like when I got to his cock, because he now could have little doubt I'm sure that I'd get there and be doing this to it. My eyes left no room for misinterpretation.

When I finally released his toe from my mouth, his eyes slowly opened. Once again, I rasped my tongue over his sole, tasting sweat but nothing worse. I'd checked, and even his toenails were clean. Twice more I licked his sole, and then, his eyes watching again, I lowered his foot into my lap. Then, biting my own lip in imitation, I brought that smooth, moist foot and pressed it against my throbbing cock. Adam gasped, eyes widening. He slowly smiled as I rubbed it up and down, caressing myself. His toes splayed and I rubbed the glans of my cock into that little V, pre-cum dripping between his toes. Then, very deliberately, I raised his foot again and took that big toe back into my mouth.

Adam let out such a pitiful little whining moan that I almost relented, diving between his legs, giving him what he wanted. As it was, he lost control himself and removed his right hand from under his head to grab at his cock.

“Not on your life,” I smiled wickedly. I rose up to my knees and bodily flipped him onto his stomach. “That should put your little toy out of reach,” I said. Adam groaned and tensed, pushing his cock into the yielding mattress. When he began to pump his little hips, I grabbed his thighs and held him still. I could feel the tension thrumming through his muscles.

I slowly lowered myself again, sliding in between Adams splayed legs. He looked so perfect lying there, his lovely rounded ass, the deep crevice. His balls were smashed into the mattress, a delicious little bundle of pinkish flesh. Inside that moist cleft, I knew my goal awaited me. As I supported myself on my elbows, I let each of my hands fall on those flawless little buns. I caressed them while I lowered my head to lick at the inside of each of Adam's thighs. His ass quivered in my hands, muscles bunching. Finally, with a swipe of my tongue over his little balls, which contracted sharply in their wrinkled sac, I slid my thumbs into that cleft and pulled.

Ok, another confession. I had never licked an ass, let alone eaten one out. When I was a kid it never occurred to me, and by the time I became aware it was a thing people even did, I was just dating women, and for some odd reason never felt the urge. That changed for me when I got a peek between Adam's cheeks earlier in the hot tub. The idea lodged in my mind and refused to leave, and now here I was, but I have to tell you that I wasn't overly confident about what I was about to do.

My first worry was soothed as soon as I spread those firm little buns apart. Adam's little pucker was everything that quick glimpse earlier had shown me and more. This was actually the closest I'd ever been to an asshole and I'd been unsure what I'd encounter. First was a starburst of little striated ridges all racing inward. I was put in mind of the Millennium Falcon as it made the jump into hyperspace. These lines all met in a slightly raised, circular ridge of tissue that was his anus. It was a rosy pink color, a sharp contrast to the pale whiteness all around it.

Going for broke, I shoved my face into that sweaty little cleft and rasped my tongue across that tiny pink pucker. I'm not sure what Adam had been expecting, but it apparently wasn't that. He gasped and went perfectly still. I licked him again.

“Brad!” he breathed. He gasped and arched his ass.

Worry number two put to rest. He tasted of sweat and the particular muskiness that was Adam, but nothing worse. I began to lavish that sensitive little rosebud with attention, lapping at it, circling it, sucking it, and finally, with a final hint of trepidation on my part, spearing it with my tongue. Adam whimpered beneath me, his entire body shivering. He was making his little puppy dog whines again as if he wanted something, but these were involuntary and spoke solely of a different kind of need. The taste of sweat and musk was stronger here, but again I found nothing to scare me away.

“It feels really weird,” Adam mumbled, voice full of wonder.

I rose up until I was sitting between Adam's widespread legs. With a hand on either of his bony hips, I carefully lifted him until he got his knees under him. Divining my intention, he situated himself with his ass raised in the air, his face flat on a pillow. His little ass wiggled back and forth in anticipation of what I might do next. What a perfect picture. What man, gay or straight, boylover or not, being honest with himself, wouldn't feel faint at the sight of Adam bent over like that, his glorious bottom an open invitation, his delicate little balls hanging down like mistletoe at a holiday celebration.

I reached forward between his legs and allowed the backs of my hands to trace a line up the inside of both of his silky thighs. When they reached that sweaty little juncture at the top, I gently ran my fingers over his exquisite little nuts. Adam let out a shaky moan and his balls drew up tighter in their wrinkled little sac. Teasing, I allowed one of my fingers to trace a line from his balls along the short length of his cock, which was snugly hugging his groin from underneath. It jerked against my finger and Adam gave out a little hiss of need.

I leaned forward and plunged my face back between Adam's divine asscheeks. I hungrily attacked his small pucker with my tongue and lips. My right hand drifted down to my own cock, standing up so stiffly against my stomach, throbbing with need and dripping a steady stream of pre-cum. I swiped my finger through that slick liquid, thoroughly lubricating it.

Sitting back a little, I brought my finger to bear. I gently circled the tiny little ridge of pink flesh at Adam's center. After a few moments, I began to apply light but steady pressure, not attempting to dive into him, just waiting. Eventually my patience was reward. Without warning, Adam's tiny anus allowed me inside, in fact almost seemed to suck the tip of my finger inward. I slid in about an inch, and then just held my finger there, allowing him to adjust to the sensation.

“Are you ok, Adam?” I asked gently.

“Feels so good,” he breathed.

“I'm glad, angel,” I said.

I withdrew my finger, but only long enough to add a little more pre-cum to my finger. I wanted him well lubricated. Adam whimpered when I slid my finger back into him, his little sphincter welcoming me much quicker this time. When I was about an inch and a half deep, I felt what I'd been searching for, the distinctive little bump in the rectal wall that was Adam's immature prostate. He groaned as I slid my finger over it. Once I was situated, I began to slowly, gently, but steadily, tap my finger against that spot.

“Brad!” Adam gasped. “What are – ungh!”

I slightly increased the force of my taps.

“I... I think I gotta pee,” Adam groaned. “Brad! Wait... I gotta... oh wait!”

“It's ok,” I assured him. “I know it feels like that. Just relax. I got you, babe.”

“No, wait! I... I! Brad!”

And then he was shuddering, his asshole slamming shut around my finger, his little cock twitching strongly between his legs. Adam was snorting, gasping, almost pained sounding gasps working to escape through mouth or nose. I held my finger against that little bump while he came, applying gentle pressure. As his quivering lessened and he took a shuddering breath I began to lightly tap again. At the same time, I lifted my left hand up between his legs and reverently took his little cock between my fingers. I caressed Adam's slender young penis, marveling at the silky texture of his skin, the softness, the warmth, the pulsing strength.

“Brad...” Adam whimpered. “Uhhhnnn... my dick...”

I rubbed the tip of my finger around that lump of sensitive tissue just below the inverted V that split his spongy little cockhead, Adam's balls cradled simultaneously against my sweaty palm. With steady pressure now against his juvenile prostate, I began to slowly slide my finger in and out of his gripping anus, but only as far as that small bump allowed, in and out about an inch at a time.

Adam was beyond words by now. I could feel another orgasm approaching in the tightening of his asshole and the tightness of his balls, but he was able to express himself only with gasping little mewls of pleasure. Then it was washing over him, his cock twitching again while I steadily jacked him, my finger embedded now, pressing with a slight wiggling motion against his little grape-sized gland.

This time, as Adam's shudders subsided, I gently extracted my finger and released his twitching little penis. I placed a soft, reverent kiss on his beautifully rounded asscheek, then I gently helped him onto his side. He slowly straightened as I stretched out beside him, but I only scooted up far enough to place my head near his crotch. As he stretched out languidly, I leaned forward and took his small cock into my mouth.

Adam gasped in surprise. “Brad!” His hand reached down to clutch my head, whether to pull me closer or push me away I wasn't sure. I'm not certain he knew himself. As it was, it ended up resting on my head as I savored the delicious little treat in my mouth. Adam's cock was everything I'd known it would be, the perfect size for suckling, the tip only able to just reach the back of my mouth, despite the way he was suddenly straining his hips forward.

I grinned around his boycock and clutched his tensed buttocks, then, tongue working, I slid my lips up and down his three slender inches, reveling in the fact that there was no hair to tickle against my upper lip.

“Brad,” Adam panted. “I can't... I... oh man!”

I applied mild suction as my lips and tongue worked at his small dick. His hand finally discovered purpose and he held it against the back of my head while his slim hips worked himself in and out of my mouth. I just hung on for the ride, delighted with his energy and youthful abandon. He was groaning sweetly and fucking his cock desperately into my mouth.

“Come,” he murmured. “Come... come... gonna come...” He shuddered. “Brad!” he gasped. “Unnghhhh, gonna come!”

The smell of Adam was stronger than ever in my nose, although one might expect that with my nose pressed up against his hairless groin. There was, by this time, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. His skin was slick under my hands. The smell of him was like a drug. It brought out a bestial hunger in me. I desperately wanted to flip him over in that moment, to bury my aching cock deep into his bowels, to feel him writhing underneath me, to hear his cries of pained pleasure echo in my ears. I shuddered with the strength of the image and the struggle to refuse that urge. Between my legs, my cock throbbed painfully.

Then Adam was once again crying out his pleasure, his little body convulsing against me, hunching himself around my head as his hips worked desperately, spasmodically, and his little penis jerked strongly in my mouth, desperate to spill seed that just wasn't there.

I waited until the last of his tremors had raced through him, leaving him panting weakly and spent. Then I released his spit-soaked little cock and crawled up to lie beside him. He rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, his cock a slowly shrinking, damp little worm crouched in that smooth expanse of pale skin.

I found myself staring adoringly at my little lover. He finally sensed my regard and turned his head to me. He grinned. “I never cummed that much in my life.”

I must have betrayed myself somehow with my smile, because he said, “Isn't that right? That's not how you say it?”

I said, “Well, technically it's 'came' but cummed is much cuter. You should use that.”

Adam giggled weakly and stretched deliciously, like a cat, putting everything into a sensuous display of satisfaction. He ran his hands lightly over the cooling sweat on his body, finishing with a little squeeze of his soft cock. He shivered, his shoulders bunching, then kicked his little heels against the bed and laughed in delight. Then he levered himself upward until he was sitting and looking down at me. His eyes went to my cock and he grinned devilishly.

“You haven't cummed yet,” he said with a wicked grin. That lip slid unerringly back between his teeth in a display of uncertainty and mischievousness. With raised brows and roaming eyes, he asked a question. I nodded and he grinned and reached out and ran a finger along the length of my cock, from head to balls. I shivered.

Seeing my reaction, Adam grinned and did it again. He'd grabbed me a few times, but he'd never taken the time to explore me. He did now. He lightly poked a finger in between my balls, examining my hairy scrotum. He ran those coarse hairs through his fingers, tugging enough to distend the skin of my sac, but not enough to hurt. Then he hefted them in his small hand. I don't have the biggest nuts. Maybe the size of... Brazil nuts? Is that a nut shape? Well, you know what I mean. Dammit, walked into that one.

“I like your balls,” Adam said shyly, his eyes sparkling brightly from under his bangs.

“They are quite fond of you at this moment, too,” I smiled.

Adam giggled. “You're really hairy,” he said, releasing my balls to run his slender little fingers through my pubic bush. My cock lurched as the back of his hand rubbed against it. “This is sperm, right?” he asked, swirling a fingertip through the little puddle of pre-cum forming under my dripping cockhead.

“Well,” I corrected, “it's actually what's called pre-cum. It's supposed to... you know, lubricate things. Sperm comes later. It's a lot thicker.”

He held his finger up before his face, examining the wetness at the end. His eyes met mine, twinkling merrily. “What's it taste like?”

I gave him a little shrug. “Why don't you try it and see?”

He squinted at his finger, as if the slick liquid would do something. What, I'm not sure. Melt his finger? Attack his face? Ok, maybe I was projecting. I'm weird. “It's not gross?” he asked uncertainly.

“Well, Adam, I don't think it is, but then I don't like beets and I know some people who think they are delicious.”

“Beets are gross,” Adam said, wrinkling his cute little nose. Then, with a quick sniff of his finger, he hesitantly poked out the tip of his little pink tongue and tasted it. His face screwed up for a moment, considering, then he slid the finger into his mouth. I saw his tongue working, spreading it around, getting a sense of it. After a moment, he took another swipe at the mess on my groin and it went back into his mouth.

“It doesn't really taste like anything,” he finally said. He shrugged, then he turned his attention back to my cock.

“I wish my dick was this big,” he said, gently wrapping his fingers around the shaft. He pulled me to his right, lifting me upright. He squeezed, watching as more pre-cum oozed out of my gaping piss slit.

“Don't be in such a hurry to grow up,” I told him, enamored of the way he was exploring me. “I think you're perfect the way you are right now.”

He glanced down into his lap. While not completely hard again, he was at least at half-mast. “I'm puny though.”

“Well, like I told you before, I think you're actually sorta large for your age. That's just sorta based on what I remember. I haven't seen many boys your age naked,” I lied. Or does the internet not count?

Without warning, Adam leaned over, his hair falling into my lap, and sucked the head of my cock briefly into my mouth. I gasped, totally surprised. He sat back up and once again swirled his tongue around in his mouth, still tasting me apparently. Then he turned and grinned.

“Want me to do it again?” he asked, wide-eyed with mischief.

I couldn't do anything other than nod. A lot.

Adam smiled widely, then bent over me again. I shuddered as I felt all that silky auburn hair slide and pool against all my sensitive places. Then the warmth of his small mouth was engulfing me. I groaned, the thought of it happening just as powerful as the physical sensations.

“Pull your hair back,” I said softly.

Twisting his head a little bit, still holding the tip of me in his mouth, he peeked at me through a curtain of hair. I could see the grin on his face as he realized what I wanted. His left hand reached up and took up that silken coppery mop and pulled it up and back, revealing the side of his face to me. I could see his soft pink lips wrapped around my shaft, the head of my cock out of sight in his mouth.

Seeing that he had my full attention, Adam began to slowly bob his head up and down, obviously emulating me. He lowered himself slowly, taking inch after inch of my cock into his mouth. After about three inches he gave a little gag and backed off a bit. Comfortable then with what he had in his mouth, he began the journey back to the top. He rose until just the crown remained in his mouth and then lowered himself again. Soon he had worked out a comfortable rhythm.

“Rub my balls, Adam,” I suggested.

Adam didn't hesitate in his rhythm, but a moment later I felt him take my balls in his hand. He rolled them gently, bouncing them a little. After another minute he sat up again. His right hand left my balls and gripped my cock. He used his saliva to stoke up and down my five-inch shaft with a familiarity that showed he knew how to handle at least his own cock.

Releasing me for a moment, he asked, “If I keep sucking it, will you squirt your sperm?”

“I will if you keep doing it like you were,” I told him.

He bit his lip, chewing lightly. “Will you squirt it in my mouth?”

“Not if you don't want me to, honey,” I assured him.

Adam grinned. “I like when you call me that,” he said. Then he turned shy again and said, “What if I want you to? In my mouth I mean?”

“Well, do you really want me to?” I asked, thrilled by the thought, but realizing it was sort of a big step for a boy.

Adam nodded shyly, his hand never ceasing his stroking. It was beginning to get to me and I squirmed. “Well, if you want me to, you'd better do it pretty fast, because it's about to shoot out all over my stomach,” I warned.

“It will?” he asked, apparently excited by the idea. Had I just talked my way out of shooting my load into this little angel's sweet mouth? Oh, well, I imagined there would be other opportunities at this point.

“It really will,” I told him, my voice growing a bit raspy as my breathing increased.

Adam looked at my cock, then back at my face. He looked conflicted. “I wanna do both,” he complained.

I couldn't help but laugh. “I'll tell you what,” I said, “you suck it some more, and I'll tell you right before I come, that way you can get a little in your mouth, and pull back and watch the rest squirt on my tummy. How's that?”

“Yeah!” Adam answered eagerly. Then my cock was back in his mouth and his right hand caressed my tightening nuts while his left pulled back his hair to give me an unobstructed view of this little miracle of the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen sucking eagerly at my cock.

The very thought was enough to cause things to tighten in my lower body. “Getting close, Adam,” I said softly, feeling my orgasm like a storm on the horizon, a gathering of massive storm clouds, a growing electricity in the air. I concentrated on the boy before me, the bobbing of his head, his perfect pink lips wrapped round my shaft, the gentle curve of his back and he hunched over me, the gracefulness of his limbs, the barely seen hint of pink between his legs that was the tip of his beautiful little penis.

Finally, I gasped, “Now, Adam!” as I felt my balls clench in his small hand. I felt the spasmodic jerk of my cock as the first rope of hot cum blasted out of my cock. I could feel Adam's startled jerk as his little mouth was suddenly filled with my jizz, then my cock was out of his mouth and he was practically ducking out of the way. The next shot went straight up to land on Adam's wrist. By that time he had my cock pointed back towards my head and the next four powerful squirts blasted across my stomach. I grunted as another three less powerful squirts dribbled out, oozing over Adam's fist to drip into my thick pubic hair.

Adam was staring wide-eyed. “Wow!” he finally said, choking a little. He carefully swallowed then he met my eyes with a huge grin. “That was awesome!” Then his face scrunched up a bit. “But that's the weirdest taste ever.”

I laughed weakly. “You didn't like it, huh?”

Adam shrugged. “It's not bad. It tastes like...” and he searched around for an answer. He finally finished with, “... salty milk.”

I laughed. “Salty milk? Well, I guess that's as good a description as any,” I allowed.

I watched Adam. He was holding out his arm, looking with a mixture of fascination and distaste at his hand, which was coated with a slimy trail of my jizz. He was slowly turning his hand to keep it from dripping off.

He turned his eyes to me, his nose scrunched up. “I'm all sticky,” he complained.

I laughed again and slid off the side of the bed. I reached out for his hand, and when he offered me the cum-covered one I said, “Nice try, smartass.” He grinned and gave me his right hand. I pulled him off the bed and led him to the bathroom. While he stood there, examining the mess on his hand, his little penis poking up in front of him, I turned on the water in the shower. When it was warm, I ushered him in and entered behind him.

After a shower, and ok, a little bit more fun, we exited the bathroom, sated, but tired. This time as we crawled into bed together, I gathered Adam against me, taking comfort in his warmth, in his small presence in the darkness. I don't think I realized until that moment just how lonely I'd been. Life had honestly seemed to have little purpose. I had been just going through the motions the last few years. Suddenly, all that seemed to be behind me. I felt a burgeoning warmth in my chest as I lay there, this magnificent little boy next to me, his soft breath against my chest. I think it was called hope.