Date: Tue, 23 Mar 2010 09:47:02 -0400
From: thorin@hushmail.com
Subject: Aden and Jason 3: Aden by Moonlight

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Disclaimer:  This story is complete fiction.  It does contain
scenes of explicit sex between two boys.  Please do not read this
is you shouldn't.  (But, if you've come this far, you know why
you're here and I doubt you're going to stop.)  I hope you enjoy
the story.
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Aden by Moonlight
by
Thorin

My eyes open suddenly. A second before I had been sound asleep, I
am now wide awake. Something is wrong in my room; someone is in
here with me. I lay quietly, my heart pounding, struggling to
figure out what is happening. I hear the soft creak of the door, I
watch it slowly close, and I hear the bolt as it slides across the
strike plate and clicks back into place. Then I see someone moving
softly across the room and toward my bed.

"Dad?" I call out.

The answer comes back in mocking laughter and in a pretend deep
bass voice. "Yes, Jason, it's your dad. And I've come to sneak in
your room and molest you!"

"Fuck, Aden! You scared the shit out of me!"

His bright laughter softly chimes, and, at that moment, he crosses
into the moonlight that cascades in the bedroom window. The sharp
silver light highlights the mop of black hair that falls around his
shoulders, his lithe form, and the sparkle of his emerald green
eyes. The window is large and the moon is full, so the light fills
the room. Only the door, which lies on the far side of the window,
is in shadow.

I'm supposed to be here at camp, alone. My dad and I have spent the
last week preparing for the first group of campers due to arrive
tomorrow. Dad left with the bus just after dinner to be ready to
meet them in the church parking lot in town in the morning. The
remaining staff will arrive with them.

Aden glides across the room toward the bed. In one hand is a small
duffle. Without breaking stride he leaves his sneakers behind,
stepping on the heel of each in turn, his white socks now throwing
back the moon's glow. Instead of coming right over to me, he stops
by my bedside table, drops the duffle on the floor, and squatting
down beside it, he unzips the tops and begins to fish around inside.

"How the hell did you get here?" I ask.

Again he laughs softly. "Wow, great to see you Aden! Boy have I
missed you," he replies with light sarcasm. Then, he pauses in his
search through the duffle and turns his smile my way. "I saw your
dad in town. I asked if it was alright if I came out tonight. He
said it was OK and that you would appreciate the company, but that
I had to find my own ride out. So, I conned my brother into driving
me."

I think about this as Aden turns back to his duffle. Aden's family
is a bit of a mystery to me; in part because I'm an only child,
while Aden's family is large. But, more than that, Aden's family is
both touchingly close and amazingly diverse; no two of them are
alike. Yet, they all care for each other so much. Still, it's a
four hour round trip, and I'm suspicious that there's more to the
story if Aden's brother was willing to drive him that far with no
notice.

Aden rises with something in his hand that makes no noise as he
drops it on the bedside stand. Then, he opens my CD player and
drops in a disc, waiting for the music to start in order to adjust
the volume. At that moment, the light scent of cologne reaches me
and I want to laugh. Aden, at thirteen, is still a bit of a boy and
considers soap as optional when in the shower. I know it will make
him mad if I say something about the scent he has used, so I stay
quiet. Finally, I hear the gentle percussion from the opening of
"With or Without You," and I smile. It's pretty obvious that Aden
made a mix of some of the softer songs he knows I like. That, plus
the cologne, and I know Aden has something special planned for our
reunion. I smile in anticipation.

A moment later he's on his knees over top of me, his legs
straddling my hips, his hands on the bed on either side of my
chest. He's wearing the white polyester t-shirt that he knows is my
favorite. I love the cool, silky feel and the way it hangs on his
shoulders and chest. It is open wide around his waist, just above
his blue jeans, so I slide my hands up inside and along his sides
and I feel the warmth of his skin. He smiles down upon me, his
black locks falling about his face.

"You know," he teases, "for the son of a preacher, you sure are a
bit of potty mouth!"

He leans in and kisses me; a half dozen soft, small kisses,
changing the angle of his approach each time. Then, a long slow one
comes; his lips part mine gently and our tongues meet after a
week's separation. He drops down on his elbows as we kiss, our
chests come together, and my hands slide around to his back and up
to his shoulders.

I pull him tightly to me and he collapses softly onto me. I've
missed him terribly, even though it has only been a week. I miss
his smile, I miss his gentle banter, and I miss lying like this,
his body stretched out against mine.

Then he's back on his knees and begins to sit up. I take advantage
of the motion and slip his shirt over his head. He anticipates my
move and straightens his arms to allow it to slide off easily. He
shakes his head quickly to chase the hair from his eyes, then,
taking the shirt from me, he tosses it off the bed and to one side.
We both know it will be late morning before he needs it again. I
place a hand on each hip and slowly slide them up his sides. He, in
turn, starts his hands on my wrists and slides them down my arms,
leaning forward on to me once again. We lay like that for a moment,
looking into each other's eyes, both of us smiling.

Then he hops off the bed quickly and, in one fluid motion, throws
back the thin sheet that covers me. The nights have been warm and I
have needed little else to keep me comfortable. He stands there and
stares, drinking me in, as I do him.

"Hmmm," he says in mock sternness, "not only does the preacher's
son have a potty mouth; it also appears he has a dirty mind."

I'm already well on my way to being hard. In fact, I think I'm in a
constant state of arousal when Aden is around. He's sexy even when
he isn't trying to be. I lay there, exposed, in nothing but my
boxer-briefs, but it only lasts a second and then Aden is on top of
me again. This time, he lies flat on me and I feel the warmth of
his chest on mine; his jeans are rough against my legs. We kiss
again, more deeply this time.

I allow the moment to linger, our kisses growing slowly in
earnestness, our breath deepening. We struggle to hold each other
tighter, as if, somehow, that will fill the emptiness of the last
week's separation. Then, slowly, I roll him over onto his back and
lay by his side, one hand behind his neck and across his shoulder,
the other playing lazily on his chest and stomach. He's watching me
with pleasure as I, in turn, get pleasure from him. I bring the
forefinger of my free hand to my mouth and wet it and then I bring
it back down and make slow circles around his nipples.

"My dad is staying in town tonight, right?" I say. I get very
nervous about my dad sometimes and what he would do if he found out
that Aden and I were lovers. I saw him leave in the bus, but I
still need reassurance.

"Nah, he came back with me. But, he said he'd wait outside until we
were done," is the reply.

"Shit Aden, you sure are acting smart tonight," I say gently.

"Hey, that's what they send me to school for?" he laughs.

"They send you to school to be smart, not to be a smartass!"

He looks at me with that bright smile of his and then beckons me
closer with a finger. I lean in to a short, but passionate kiss.
Then, when we break, he says, "I want you to strip me Jason; then I
want you to ravage me."

I don't need to be told twice.

I finish tossing the sheet back over the end of the bed. We won't
need it for probably an hour or so. It will just be one more thing
to get tangled up in and there will be a lot of tangling around.
Then, I move down to his feet. I lift each, one-by-one, and peel
his socks off. I should try to throw them over by his shirt, but a
neat pile of clothes is not on my mind. Aden watches, his hands
folded behind his head, as I massage each foot, in turn.

He has closed his eyes long before I have finished, but I can tell
by the way he tenses up, that he knows I am ready to move on. And
so I reach up, first to grab the zipper of his jeans and pull that
down; pressing softly against him as I do. Then I unsnap them. I
linger for a moment, my hand hands brushing lightly over the newly
revealed flesh of his groin. Then, I grab his pants by the legs,
pull them down, and toss them to one side.

There Aden lies in a pair of dark bikini briefs. Their exact color
I am unsure of; in the glow of the moon they could be any of a
number of dark hues. All I know is how well they accent his form;
the string on each side riding up over the hip and disappearing
around back. The smile on his face tells me he expected my
surprise; it is a smile of satisfaction.

I pause and admire what is in front of me. There lies a boy in his
prime; his body sleek and sensual. His entire form open and
available, eager for me to run my hands over, and to provide the
pleasure he has come to expect.

I run my hands up the inside of his thighs. He parts his legs
slightly in response, closes his eyes, and coos softly. I linger
for a moment in the space where his legs join his groin, rubbing up
and around. An Aden-size mound protrudes from the skimpy patch of
cloth the covers him. Then I grasp the string on each side of his
hips, and, as he lifts his hip slightly, I peel his briefs down
over his legs and past his feet. The briefs get tossed to the side
like everything else. He lies naked before me.

With only the moonlight to see him by, his body looks completely
clean, but I know that when I explore it, I will find the first
sprouts of pubic hair; the vanguard of a more fuller patch yet to
come. The warmth of the room and his growing maturity means that
his balls hang loosely and are ready to deliver up there small
clear offering. He is hard already and I want nothing more than to
throw myself upon him and take him into my mouth. Instead, I again
trace up his thighs with my hands, and, reaching his groin, allow
the back of my hand to brush softly against his shaft and his
balls. I hear a soft soprano moan and see a slight rocking of his
hips, in response.

I'm trying to stay calm, but I'm almost trembling. It's rare that
we get so much time alone and in a space so free from prying eyes
and attentive ears. I want to go slow, to savor every moment, but
I'm only sixteen, and the fire inside of me wants to drive me to a
quick finish. I drop to my back and quickly peel off my boxer-
briefs and throw them who-knows-where. Then I rejoin Aden, pressing
myself up against him, feeling the electricity as my flesh comes in
contact with his, not one square inch left untouched. Our lips come
together in the exact same moment that we each reach out and take
the other in hand. Both of us stroke the other gently as our breath
becomes more ragged and deep, moving noisily in-and-out of our
noses as our tongues continue to dance together. Aden's moans
become more persistent.

How long we stay like that, I don't know; five minutes...ten? I'm
often surprised at how sex distorts my perception of time. But now
I'm now lying across Aden's stomach, my back turned toward him. I'm
licking and nibbling my way around his groin, fondling his balls at
the same time. I linger on the inside of his thighs and the space
between his balls and thighs. I run my tongue back and forth and
all through the area. I allow his shaft to stay in constant contact
with my cheeks and chin, but tease him by keeping friction to a
minimum. I revel in the smell of the sweaty groin of a young
teenage boy.

Aden has one hand on my back, his fingers curled tightly into my
muscles. His other has woven itself into my hair. His heels dig
into the bed as he repeatedly thrusts with his hips. I smile as his
raspy moans turn into a long string of, "Fuck Jason, suck me, suck
me, pleeeaasse suck me!"

And I do, in one swift motion I swallow him in. Although he
continues to grow, I can still take him completely into my mouth.
My tongue swirls and strokes as he moves desperately in and out of
my mouth, his hips grinding up and down. I hear a sustained soprano
moan from behind me.

He is close, I can tell, and I pay attention for that last second
swelling and the change in his voice that precedes his release. But
then I feel him grabbing at me from behind, the hand that is
twisted into my hair pulls me hard backward and I hear him, his
voice frantic, saying, "Stop, stop, stop!"

I move up beside him, his eyes are closed, and his breathing is
heavy and rapid, punctuated by soft moans. His hips rock back and
forth and I block one of his hands as it moves down toward his
groin. He is covered by a sheen of sweat that reflects the
moonshine from the window. What he's done doesn't surprise me; it
just means he wants to try something new. I wait while he recovers.

When his eyes start to flutter open, I lean in and kiss him. He
smiles and kisses me back, sighing audibly as he does so.

"Damn that was good," he says when we break apart. Then he
continues, "Jason, tonight's the night. I want you to do it to me."

I suddenly remember what he dropped on my nightstand and realize
what it is. "I don't know Aden, let's think about," I reply. Aden
has been after me to go all the way with him. My desire is
unmistakable. I have fantasies of doing exactly that. But even
stronger is my desire not to hurt Aden and not to take the
relationship further than he is ready to go.

"No, Jason!" his reply is fast and sharp. "That's bullshit, that's
what you always say when you don't want to say no."

He wraps his arms around my neck; he studies me closely. "Look, I
know it's going to be uncomfortable the first time and that I might
not even like it. But I want to try; I want to feel you inside of
me; I want to do what real lovers do!"

"Aden, we don't need to do that! I love doing what we do now. There
will be plenty of time to..." Somehow, I can't bring myself to even
say it. The word sounds so crude, while Aden is anything but.

"Jason, I'm not a kid anymore. We've been going together for a year
now. Tonight's the night, Jason! Tonight!"

And so, a few moments later, I lay as Aden arranged me; on my back,
my knees on the edge of the bed, my calves dangling over. The towel
that Aden brought is beside us, the tube of lubricant close by. We
talked and decided that this was best, this way Aden can control
how far things go and how fast. We've spent the last minutes
preparing, making sure that we are well lubed and that Aden is
loosened up.

Again he's on his knees, straddling my hips. He has one hand on my
shoulder and he reaches between us with the other, holding me as he
tries to find the right angle. It's awkward, and I can feel his
frustration build. He's finding it difficult to both hold me in the
right position and to lower his body on to me at the same time.
Finally, I reach my hand down, take my shaft out of his hand, and
hold it up and pointed slightly forward. Now he has both hands on
my shoulder and can balance better.

It is easy to find the right spot as he backs onto me and lowers
himself slowly down. I'm so stiff, there's no tendency for me to
bend away from his opening. The head slips inside slightly and
stops, meeting the resistance of his sphincter. There we come to an
impasse. He's pushing back and down harder and harder, but it will
slide in no further.

I grab his hip with my other hand and stop him. His eyes, which had
been shut, open and he looks at me, stopping his efforts at the
same time. He's strung as tight as a guitar string. He expects me
to try to call it off and is ready to explode on me if I do. On the
one hand, I do want to tell him to stop, to call it quits. On the
other hand, my lust has built to the point that I don't think I can.

"Easy A," I say, "remember what we've read; push out like you're
taking a dump. Go slow and keep steady pressure." He looks down
between his legs, as if to gather courage to try again, then he
nods his head to show he understands; his breathing is heavy.

Again he lowers himself onto me and again my tip slips inside, and,
again, it meets that unmovable spot. He stops there, keeping steady
pressure, continuing to look down between his legs. Then, resolved
to move on, he raises his head toward the ceiling, concentrates,
and relaxes. I feel his sphincter start to relax, then to quickly
spasm close. Yet Aden persists, keeping steady pressure and willing
himself to relax.

And then it happens. Suddenly I'm inside. I gasp as the most
amazing sensation explodes inside my head. At the same time I hear
a yelp from Aden. I look to see the pain registered on his face and
try to move my hips away so that I slide back out and provide him
relief.

"Don't Jason!" he hisses and I freeze. His voice is tinged with
panic and with pain. "Don't you dare fucking move!"

And so I lay there, as still as I can be, stymied; caught, on the
one hand, on the verge of the most amazing sensation I have ever
experienced, and wanting to end my young lover's pain on the other.
We both are like statues, unwilling and unable to move. The minutes
tick by. Then, ever so slowly, I see the pain leave Aden's face,
and, ever so slowly, he lowers himself onto me.

I'm in agony; the next ten minutes are the worst in my entire life.
My hands have each found a fistful of bed sheet that they cling to.
Slower than a snail, Aden lowers himself down until I am completely
enveloped. Then, just as slowly, he rises up again, till only the
very tip of me remains inside, then he repeats the journey. My
brain is screaming for relief, screaming for my hips to thrust in
and out, hard and fast.

But, I hold out, and, eventually, Aden begins to speed up. The
feeling of being inside of him is beyond what I ever imagined. The
overwhelming warmth, the overall tightness, the slickness cannot be
anticipated or described. I want nothing but for the sensation to
continue, but my brain also screams for release.

He continues to gain speed, and I begin to shift my hips about to
increase my pleasure. He shifts his hands off of my shoulders and
grasps each of my wrists, pinning them to the bed, leaning in and
kissing me quickly. Then I feel him rise again, leaving only my
head inside, but I am surprised when the downward stoke does not
follow.

I open my eyes in surprise and I see him gazing back at me, smiling
impishly. Then, slowly, he begins to rotate his hips in a small
circle. My tip is inside, but nothing more. I long to be deep
inside again, in fact, I become desperate for it. I try to thrust
up with my hips, but my legs hang over the edge of the bed and,
without being able to push off with my feet, I go nowhere. I grasp
the sheets harder and an involuntary whimper escapes. My
desperation grows and I fight harder to push up, to feel myself
fully inside of him. My feet fight for purchase on the side of the
bed; my heels find the thin sliver of the metal bed frame but there
is not enough there to gain traction; they slip off again and
again. Finally, I can take no more; I twist my wrists to free
myself from his grasp and sit forward quickly. The motion brings
him down against my hips and we both gasp with the sudden change;
Aden's an octave above mine.

I hold him tightly against me; his arms are wrapped firmly around
my neck. We stay there, locked together, our breathing hot and
ragged on each other's shoulder. Then, slowly, I rise, shifting one
hand from his back to underneath his butt. His knees lock firmly
against my hips. I stand, then, turning gently, I lower him onto
the bed on his back. Both our eyes are open, locked on one another.
I pull my arms from underneath him, rocking him easily from side-to-
side in order to free them. Then I braid each arm behind his knees
and I wrap my hands over his shoulders from behind. We both remain
still; I am buried deep within him; his warmth envelopes me. I gaze
at my beautiful boy, his face painted with silver from the moon. I
kiss him.

"Do me Jason," he says. "Fuck me!"

I try to remember all that I've heard about how to make the
sensation last. I think of my favorite baseball team; I run through
the batting line up and try to remember batting averages. In
desperation, I even run through my class schedule at school,
thinking of each teacher, in turn. But, I know from the first
stroke that I won't last long. My mind burns with the sensation
from my groin. An animal part of me takes over, wanting only to
thrust quickly and deeply. I try to remember the precious boy
beneath me, to be gentle and not to hurt him.

How long do I last? I'm not certain. More than five strokes, but
certainly less than ten. I concentrate on being gentle and smooth,
but the last two thrusts are hard and strong. I'm on fire. I roar
as I feel my release and, at the same time, I hear Aden whimper.
Whether it is from pleasure or pain, I'm not certain. I feel myself
flood into him in a never ending set of spasms. My eyes are wide
open, but I see nothing. Every muscle in my body is frozen. I feel
his mouth on my shoulder, his teeth pinching the skin lightly. I
struggle for air.

Finally I return to the moment. He's holding me tight; his hands
still wrapped around my neck; his mouth still biting gently on my
shoulder. "A! Are you OK?" I ask. He nods quickly in response. We
lay there, locked together. I slowly release his legs, but he
continues to hold me tight, and, throwing his legs over my back and
locking his feet together, he squeezes me tighter.

Some minutes later, exactly how long I can't say, we lay together
again on the bed. My head is up on the pillow. Aden lies beside me,
his head on my chest. One hand is underneath me, the other plays
across my chest and abdomen. The towel that he brought with him his
pulled up tight between his legs like a diaper.

The moon has moved higher in the night sky and only a trapezoid of
light falls on the floor beneath the window, but it is still plenty
of light to see by. I hear the bridge lines from "1979" by the
Smashing Pumpkins; a song that always makes me feel melancholy. My
hand plays through his hair and down his back.

The guilt that often nags me after sex is in full force. I'm
ashamed of myself; I can't believe what I've just done. I fucked a
thirteen year-old boy! But, more than that, I fucked Aden, the most
precious boy in the world. I could have hurt him. In fact, I may
have hurt him; maybe not physically, but maybe mentally.

Like an alcoholic in the middle of a binge, my thoughts continue
on. I think of our relationship; what Aden and I have is so
precious, so special, but it seems doomed. If kids at school ever
found out, life would be hell. And, although I think I could take
it, I could never put Aden through that. Then there's the future,
or the lack of a future. Our affair will always have to be a
secret; my dad would kill me if he knew. I'm sure I'd see that wide
leather belt once again, and he'd beat the shit out of me as he
chased me out the door. And, the next thing he'd do is to grab the
phone and call the cops. What we've done -- no, what I've done --
has to be illegal. And, what about Aden's parents; his dad would
come after me with a gun!

"Knock it off Jason!" Aden says sternly, and I jump. I wonder for a
moment if I was talking out loud.

He twists around and faces me, his expression soft. "Knock it off,"
He repeats, but this time quietly. "I know you. You're stewing
about it like you always do."

"I was not!"

"Yes you were," he laughs, "you always do." He studies my face for
a moment, his smile gentle. Then he leans in and gives me a quick
kiss.

"You're worried about us getting caught; you're worried about when
you go off to college; you're worried about STDs. Christ, Jason,
you're a worrier. It's what you do. But, now is not the time."

I shift my gaze to the wall over Aden's shoulder. I can't meet his
eyes. I feel that if I look away, he won't be able to see inside of
me the way that he does. My one hand plays idly in his hair, the
other roams across his back.

"You know, we just had unprotected sex. We could get AIDS," I say,
but it sounds pouty and weak.

"We're both virgins, you dork," and he laughs. "We can't catch
AIDS. Unless, that is, you've been cheating on me with dirty toilet
seats and door knobs." He rolls his eyes in mock disgust, but his
smile is wide. "At least we were virgins," he adds and he slides
forward and kisses me once again, more deeply this time.

"Fuck, Aden, what if we get caught! What if people find out?" I'm
looking at him again.

"Jason, the only one who doesn't know is your dad."

I look at him in shock, not quite able to fully gather what he
means, but scared at the same time.

"Don't you remember," he continues. "Donnie, Jesse, Brad, and Eric!"

He's referring to our kayaking trip just the week before. Although
we tried to hide it, by the end of the trip, they all knew that
Aden and I were in love. And, they accepted it with no fuss.

But my thoughts continue to race ahead. "Your parents!!!" I'm
suddenly frozen with fear.

"Jason," he laughs, "I came out to my parents over a year ago,
before I ever met you."

"What did they say?" I can't believe what I'm hearing and I can
only imagine a scene full of shouting and tears.

"Not much, really," he says. "They kinda shrugged, told me that
they had suspected for a while." He pauses and stares off,
remembering back. "But, that reminds me, they wanted me to ask you
for dinner, but, with...yah know...what we just did, I kinda forgot.
They want to meet you."

I stare at Aden and can do nothing else. I can only image the look
on my face. I stay that way, frozen, until I finally stutter, "They
want to meet me???"

"Well, yeah, why not!" and he looks at me perplexed.

"Aden, they know about me??"

"Of course," he says, still perplexed. "Why wouldn't they? I mean,
don't you think they'd ask where I spend all my time?" Then he
smiles and adds, "Don't you think I'd tell them about the boy I
love?"

"What did they say?"

"About you? I don't know." He stops and thinks. "Asked a lot about
what you're like and how we get along. You know, just the usual
parent stuff. Don't worry, Rob spoke up for you."

If I was reeling before, I'm floored now. Rob is Aden's older
brother. He's a year older than me and a senior at my school. My
mind races to Rob and suddenly some things come together. I've
avoided Rob at school all year, because I've felt so guilty. And,
scared, to be honest. I mean, what would you do if you found out
some guy in your school was having sex with your little brother.
Early in the year I figured out his schedule and found ways to get
to my classes without going past him. I did run into him once or
twice and thought he looked at me funny. But, at the same time, I
just thought it was paranoia. I heard, once, that he was asking
about me, but nothing ever came of it.

"Rob told me he thought you were avoiding him," Aden continues. "He
said he always thought you were kind of a cool kid. I told him
that's not like you; to avoid him, I mean." He continues to look at
me, his chin resting on my chest.

"Rob knows about you and me?" My voice is meek.

"Of course, idiot! I tell Rob everything."

Suddenly I recoil, lifting myself higher up on the pillow. "Rob
knows about what we're doing tonight???"

Aden's light laughter fills the room. "Hell no," he replies. "There
are limits. But I'm pretty sure he knows we do some goofing around.
He keeps talking to me about safe sex and all that shit."

"How did you get Rob to drive you up here?"

"Told him it was our anniversary. I think he kinda got a kick out
of that. He let me use his cologne and helped me pick out those new
briefs that you so quickly tore off me."

For a moment I can't say I thing. The imagine of Rob and Aden
poking through underwear, holding some up for the other to comment
on, looking for just the right pair, keeps running through my mind.
Finally I ask, "And your other sibs?"

He gives a nonchalant shrug. "They tease me sometimes about having
a boyfriend. Mom tried to stop them, but I told her it was OK."

Suddenly I notice that Aden doesn't look quite right. His smile has
dimmed and his forehead is furrowed.

"Hey A, are you OK?" I ask, concerned.

"I'm not sure," is the reply. "To be honest, my nuts are really
sore. Do you think they might have gotten banged around?"

It occurs to me for the first time that Aden hasn't climaxed. He
came close a couple of times, but then, when our attention shifted
to intercourse, Aden's needs got lost. I have my first good laugh
of the evening.

"Fuck you, Jason! It really hurts," he cries, but he's laughing at
the same time. He starts to pound on my arm with his fist. I grab
his arms, pull him close, and give him the most passionate kiss
that I can. Then, breaking apart, I say, "Lay back and relax, A.
Dr. Jason has the cure for what ails you."

A few seconds later I am back where I most love to be, my face
buried in Aden's groin, my nose full of the unique combination of
sweat and musk that is Aden, my mouth full, my tongue exploring
every inch of him. I almost laugh wondering what my father would
think if he knew what an expert cocksucker I had become. I realize
that over the last year, I must have done this a hundred times or
more. Of course, I've only known one, by the one I know, I know
well. I know its taste and its texture, and I know just how to
please it and the precious boy it's attached to.

This time there is no teasing. I cup his balls gentle to provide
him with some support and relief. My other hand is on the base of
his shaft and I stroke the underside gently as I move up and down
and swirl my tongue all around. There is no messing around; I do
everything for maximum effect, and Aden reaches his climax quickly.
I pull off just as he explodes.

Explode is just the right word for it. His heels dig hard into the
mattress, his back arches and his hips rise up. He has one hand in
my hair and his fingers clench and twist. And, there is the boyish
cry of delight that comes from deep inside his chest and echoes
throughout the room. He does not shoot this time, he sprays; his
cum is hot as it hits my face and chest and soon I am drenched.

I continue to stroke him gently as he comes down from the peak. I
have learned just how much is enough; how much pressure to use,
exactly the right rhythm, and when to leave off. His grip slowly
loosens and hips drop back to the bed. His breath still comes
quickly, but begins to slow. I grab a corner of the towel he is
laying on to wipe off; then join him on the pillow. We stare into
each other's eyes; no words are necessary. Then we kiss.

***** *****

We walk back from the shower room across the grassy quad defined by
the various camp buildings. The moon has reached its zenith and its
silvery blue light casts a magical spell on the world around us.
There is a loud whir of insects in the warm summer air that
envelopes us. I carry our towels and a mesh bag of soap and shampoo
in one hand, the other is draped across Aden's shoulder. His arm is
wrapped around my waist. Sandals are all we wear.

We took turns in the shower, each of us washing the other
carefully; our hands exploring each other's body, a journey from
which they never tire. I gently spread Aden's cheeks apart and
washed carefully in his crack. His anus was puffy and red, but OK.
He tells me he enjoyed the feeling and wants to do it again, but we
agree that it will be awhile. I tell him that I'd like to try it,
myself, and he is eager for that. It seems right to me now that we
share each other in that way. My doubts from earlier have melted
away. We are both so secure in our love for each other; there seems
no reason to limit our passion.

The grass crunches softly under our feet; a warm breeze shakes the
leaves of an Aspen tree as we walk by. What we will do when we
return to bed is obvious; Aden's boyhood leads the way. We are
silent; there is no need to talk.

I feel Aden slow and then stop. He turns to me and then pulls me
toward him. I see the hunger in his eyes and our lips come
together. Our arms lock around each other and we both pull each
other tight.

"Here! Now!" Aden says, as our lips part. I stop for just a moment.
I look around at the silent trees; I feel the moonlight as it
bathes us; I look back to Aden, whose eyes sparkle in the light.
Then, I spread both towels out wide on the ground.