This story is true. The boy concerned told it to me some years ago. The boy is still alive at 69 and lives a comfortable and happy life with his wife, children, grand children and one great-grand child.

To allay the fears of the manic agents against child molestation, he savours his boyhood experiences with great delight and relish. He told me this story after reading of the vehement and volatile campaign by the few maniacs in western society who use the media sensationalism to voice their biased and out of touch concerns about child molestation.

If you are a right thinking and humble person then read this story about real life and send me your opinions.

Our little Jewish family and our German airman were very happy and we all enjoyed each other in any way possible. Gunther was quite thin but his cock was very large as were his balls. His skin was milky white and his small patch of blonde pubic hairs almost disappeared. He had no underarm hair at all and none anywhere else on his very smooth body.

Also at this stage after almost three months, no one in the village had any idea that Gunther was living in our cottage. Now he could walk well and his broken legs and burnt skin had healed very well. Grandma had made up an old Jewish cream to treat the burns, based on goat's milk and I am sure that it worked miracles on his beautiful body.

I was still enjoying my occasional sucks of 14 year of Lawrence's nice uncut cock, always in our special clearing in the middle of the copse thicket. Marcel also let me play with his 11 year old cock which was now starting to become much bigger, and was almost always stiff and horny.

One afternoon late in the year, when it was starting to become far too chill for us to be naked outdoors, I sucked Marcel to his first wet orgasm. I was thrilled and naturally told grandpa. He was equally thrilled and he told Gunther. Soon I would have my eighth birthday, and I was more knowledgable of sexual matters than most grown up men.

It was decided that Gunther couldn't stay hidden any longer. One evening when the doctor came over, it was discussed that he should leave very soon one night with the doctor and then he could come to visit us. He could then stay with us as our cousin from Alsace, who had been fighting in the Resistance. He had been forced to come to England because he had been in a group who had blown up a munitions train, killing many Germans and wrecking the main railway line from Paris to Berlin.

He was a hero but unknown, as virtually all the Resistance were. So the selected night arrived and the doctor came to check on grandma, so all the village thought.

Gunther, who was now known as Guy, crept out our rear entrance and into the car as my little brother Harry and I played in the garden. No one saw him, and some time later the doctor left, to all appearances, by himself.

Harry was a great little one. He was so bright and fully understood that we had to be secret, because it was war time. It was Christmas 1942 when Guy arrived (back) to stay with us.

Fortuitously, news was released just two days before Guy arrived about a huge demolition of a munitions train east of Paris. It was said that the French Resistance had been responsible. However, the Germans had caught many of those responsible and had shot them without trial. They had also been hunting others, and as a reprisal had shot all the people in a nearby village and burnt the village to the ground. Grandpa was thrilled but also fearful that if we made too much of Guy's heroism, then Nazi sympathisers in England would kill him, so we requested the villagers to seal their lips, which happily they did.

The doctor had enjoyed his company for three weeks, and had been the first to take his virginity. He had fucked Guy just about every night they were together, and Guy told me that he really enjoyed having a big cock in his arse. This news excited grandpa and he took the doctor's place each night fucking Guy with great relish. Grandma didn't raise a finger against this, and I was so happy. I was allowed to watch, and so did Harry who was now almost four. His cock was getting increasing attention from both myself and grandpa, and he too enjoyed our baths with the three of us in together, to save heating more water. Occasionally, I would have a bath with Guy and his big cock was so nice rubbing inside my legs. He too would shoot a fountain of cum, high above us. One evening Harry came to watch and he was able to catch the first and second spurts in his hands. He greedily swallowed it all, with a huge smile on his face.

Air raids by the Luftwaffe continued but with less power than the first year we were in England. The British fighters had control of the skies now and all of us would watch each evening. It was clear from the usual firey descent of a failed bombing attempt by a Luftwaffe pilot. We all continued to pray and our prayers were continuously answered. Harry was now starting to suck and play with Guy, and enjoyed his supper of semen on many nights.

Lawrence had a nice 15th birthday party, with Marcel and I joining most of the other village lads. I gave him a model of a Spitfire that grandpa and Guy had helped me build, and he loved it. I also gave him a wonderful sucking, which he loved, I think, even more. His cock was very nice now and he had more hairs. Marcel was also now a regular donor of semen to my lips and his 12th birthday was an equally grand function, with grandpa and grandma both invited, as well as most of the village people. Grandma had shown me how to plate leather into a belt, and together we produced a lovely belt with his initials stamped into it. I was sad to have to give it away, but Marcel was most pleased to receive it. He retained it in his possession for the rest of his life and used it for many things, as well as holding up his trousers.

Harry and I had been sleeping together for a long time now and we would cuddle and kiss and poke our cocks into each other. Guy would go away for a week occasionally, and although I wasn't told, I knew he was staying with the doctor and getting a good fucking.

In early 1943 on the day of my 8th birthday

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