This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between a man and a minor boy. The story is not true; the sexual acts described herein derive solely from imagination. It is not intended to promote illegal acts with/to/by minors, nor does it condone child abuse of any sort. If you object to the subject matter, stop reading. If your reading of this material violates laws in your place of residence or where you are currently located, stop reading. Thank you.

This story is protected by the copyright conventions of the United States.

(For the most part I see my stories as fantasy. If they do nothing else, they ask, "What if..." Those who wish to comment, may email me at will1599s@yahoo.com)


Remembering Uncle Jake
Part 2 of 2
Will S



Eventually, we found our way downstairs. Jake was on the computer and didn't pay us much attention until he smelled bacon on the griddle. "What's cookin' out there," he called. I put some bacon on a paper towel and padded up behind him, and let the aroma waft down over the boy as he knelt in front of the TV. Suddenly he leaned back, his head coming to rest against my thighs.

"Hey," I said, "Do I look like a leaning post?"

"I dunno," the boy snapped back. "But you feel like one...a kind'a nice one."

He rubbed his hair against my thighs, and lifted until his head pressed back against my shorts-covered package.

"Keep that up, champ," I said quietly, and you'll have another post to contend with."

Jake choked a laugh at that, and I felt him deliberately lift up even a bit more. Now he lifted away, and twisted around. His eyes flitted to the bulge in my pants, then up to my face. "Did my dad ask you?"


"And did you give him an answer?"

"I said yes."

"You did! Oh, Cal!" The boy sprang up and launched himself into my arms. The bacon ended up all over the floor as my hands wrapped around him, and settled down around his firm, hard butt.

"Well...I'm glad you're pleased, but I wasn't expecting this."

Now the boy lifted away and looked at me with a quizzical expression. "It'll be awesome...I...you know...really felt cheated when Uncle Jake couldn't finish...you know..." He blushed right up to his temples.

"Finish what?"

We turned now to find Andy standing in the doorway.

"You know," his son replied.

Now an odd look flowed over Andy. "What were you two talking about?"

"I asked Cal if you'd talked to him, and he said you did. So I asked him if he said yes."

"And," I completed, "I said I said yes."

Andy rolled his eyes up into his head, and then let them close. He sighed deeply. Finally, he spoke again. "I think we better sit down. We've got some things to talk about."

When we were seated on the sofa, with Jake between us, Andy spoke: "Jake, I asked Cal if he'd like to come here to live, and take over Uncle Jakes business." I felt the boy stiffen. He opened his mouth, but he didn't speak.

"That's what Cal said 'yes' to."

"Not..." the boy began.

"No," Andy interrupted.  "But I guess we need to talk about that, J-man. We can talk together, or I can talk to Cal alone. Whatever you'd like."

Jake turned to me and blushed a little. He smiled, and two deep dimples formed in his cheeks. "I'll stay," he said softly. Suddenly he seemed very vulnerable, and I fought an urge to grab him and hug him tight to me.

"Do you want to begin," Andy asked his son, "or do you want me to? I think Cal needs to hear the whole story."

"Umm...would you, Dad?" The boy, suddenly seeming unusually shy, haltingly placed his warm, smooth hand on my thigh.

"Of course," Andy said. He slipped off the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of us. He looked from his son to me. "This has been quite a few days for us," he began. "For all of us. I think we told you that we'd been planning to come down to visit with Uncle Jake and then...this happened...and that we'd visited him a couple of times recently."

"Yes," I said.

"Well," Andy continued. "These were more than just casual visits." I'm sure Andy could see the uncertainty growing in my face. "Cal, I'm so glad we've found each other again, after all these years. We've talked a lot about what it was like growing up gay here. Well, a lot has changed in the years between then and now - and a lot hasn't. It's still tough for a gay boy to...to...gain the experience he craves...the experiences any hormone-laden boy craves whether they're straight or gay."

I felt Jake's finger probing down inside my thigh, and I stiffened, suddenly on alert. Andy looked over at his son. "Jake?"

"Cal," the boy started, his voice catching in his throat. I turned to him. "I'm...I mean, I've known for a long time, I'm..." He glanced down at his dad, who nodded his encouragement. Jake turned to me again. "I'm gay, too." He swallowed hard. "Just like you and my dad."

Now I did reach out to him, and placed my hand on his smooth, soft neck. My fingers rested just below his ear as I ran my thumb slowly back and forth over the exquisite skin of his cheek, and on into his sideburns. His father began to speak again. "The real reason Jill and I split was Jake's sexual orientation. She thought I'd contaminated him somehow."

Tears were in the boy's eyes now. "And," Jake said, "She said I wasn't a real boy - a real male - and never could be...She said she hated the sight of me."

I reached out and stroked his bare arm. His father made a move to comfort him but stopped when he saw me respond. I looked at Andy for confirmation that all this could be true, and I saw in his grave expression that it was.

"Jake," I said, "like all other homophobes, that's her problem, not yours. I know it doesn't feel like it; I know it hurts like hell to have her pull that shit, but you've got to know you're one incredible human being. You are! You're wonderful! Incredible. I...I think you know the effect you have on people - on me, anyway. And I'm so...so...blessed to know you. Really." I reached up and wiped away his tears. "Your father loves you very much. And I know there are others who care about you very, very much." I smiled to reassure him.

"Cal," Andy said. "A few months ago, Jake began letting me know he wanted to 'know' about gay sex." I glanced over at Jake, and he blushed. "He begged me to show him. I was willing to tell him anything. I love my son, and I want him to be happy...but I'm not convinced I'm ready to have sex with him..." Andy turned to his son. "...even though he's an incredibly sexy guy."

Then I understood. Why hadn't I seen it before? "So you came to Uncle Jake."

"We did. The first visit was just that - a visit. Uncle Jake just got to know the J-man, and then I asked him to initiate him the way he initiated me - the way he initiated us. Eventually, he agreed to be Jake's mentor.

"And it was awesome," Andy's son chimed in. "I never dreamed I could feel so good. I mean I thought jerkin' off was pretty awesome, but Uncle Jake did things...showed me things...that were unbelievable. He taught me so much."

Andy continued: "On our last trip, Uncle Jake began a little ass play. He showed Jake some exercises to get him ready down there, and gave him a toy...to help loosen him even more." Andy stared into my eyes, holding me in his power. "This trip was to be the time my son would lose his virginity. But it wasn't to be...or so it seemed."

I looked up, unsure of what he was saying. "Wha..."

"Cal," the boy spoke now, softly but with a note of desperation. "I want you to do it. I want you to teach me what it's like to be f..." He blushed and flashed a glance toward his father. "...um...to make love."

I felt the panic begin to well up within me. Oh man, I was petrified. He suddenly seemed so small, so vulnerable, and yet, here he was, begging me to take him, and I had a hard time coming up with a reason why I shouldn't.

"I...I...need some time to think about this..."

"Don't you want to?" The boy looked as uncertain as I'd ever seen him.

Yes! I wanted to shout, I do! But that was the problem. Some people would throw me in jail for that. I just needed some time, and that's what I told him, but even as I was explaining this to him (trying to anyway), I was picturing that smooth, hard butt in my hands. My heart beat picked up a few notches as I imagined his exquisite, firm body. I knew I was going to say yes, but I needed to get past any sense of guilt. I wondered how Uncle Jake did it. In all the times I lay in his bed, our bodies pressed together, feeling his hardness deep inside me, I never sensed anything but happiness and caring and respect on his part - never any guilt or worry. If I was going to be for Jake what his great uncle was for me, then it would have to be without any hesitation whatsoever.

"I need to think...that's all, Jake, because if I'm going to do this, I have to be sure I can give you a hundred percent - you deserve nothing less. I'll let you know as soon as I get it figured out. I promise."

I looked over at his father, and I tried to imagine how my father would have dealt with such a situation. Yeah, right. Over his dead body - or mine, more like it. And in that moment of enlightenment, I knew how much it could have changed things for me if my parents had been more accepting, more encouraging. Allowing me to be who I was. They never understood that. No one did. Except for Uncle Jake. He knew exactly what I needed, and offered all his encouragement and help...and yes, his love. He freed me to be who I am today. It was as if every orgasm he gave me was an explosion that blasted away the walls that held me prisoner. Even now, I knew, despite what society would say, there was nothing exploitative about the sex he and I shared. The truth was he gave me what I needed back then. And now, I could give his namesake what he so desperately needed as well. I knew what my answer would be, but I decided to wait anyway, partly to let Jake reflect on the reality of what he was seeking. This would change him forever, and it was not something meant to be casual or ill-considered. "It's a big step, Jake," I said softy, "I think we all need to think about it for a while." Andy seemed to read all my thoughts, and nodded his approval to my response.


At four o'clock, I ambled down a wooded path that had all but grown over. Thirty plus years ago, it had been well-worn by the countless trips of small boys back and forth. I could walk that path with my eyes closed. The dip to a soft, soggy patch, higher up, a massive tree root spreading across the path, and further in, a large, flat rock that could be dangerously slick in the morning dew. Now the path was barely passable, but I could tell from broken branches and trampled weeds that someone had passed by recently.

It was no surprise, for earlier in the afternoon, Jake had told his father he was going for a swim. As I approached the ol' swimmin' hole, I could hear the stream bubbling down over stones. I followed a bend in the path and came upon a small open area, barely 40 feet around. Here the trees fell away, and the sun poured down warming the rocks and water that collected in a large natural "Jacuzzi".

Spread out on the rock was a naked boy dozing next to a pile of clothes. Today he'd been wearing skimpy, white briefs, and they were on top. To my eye, they seemed no bigger than what an eight year old might wear.

Jake was all of five feet, two inches. His dad told me he weighed 97 pounds. At his last physical, the doctor had reported to Andy that his son was just a bit over the 50th percentile on the growth chart for boys. He was beautiful, but splayed out on that massive, sloping granite, he seemed small and vulnerable. And divine. I stood there in the shadows for long minutes, drinking in his beauty. The sun only served to accentuate his golden locks. Sadly his headphones hid his small, whirlpool ears from my sight. I pictured tracing the swirls of skin and cartilage with the tip of my tongue.

His arms were folded so his hands formed a pillow under his face. He lay on his stomach, cheating me of his total beauty, but what was revealed in all its splendor was compensation enough. His tan was smooth and even, though showing an expected lightening over those glorious outcroppings of muscle between his torso and his legs. But I'll get to that in a moment. His head was twisted to one side, his left cheek resting on his hands. His neck was long and surprisingly thin, but straight and true, with the tendons showing whenever he flexed or turned his head. Fine, downy-soft hair on his legs and perhaps a bit less so on his arms and the back of his neck seemed to catch the sunshine and make his body glow. His biceps bulged delightfully, and his shoulder blades suggested the beginnings of angel wings. His shoulders had begun to broaden a bit, which hinted at the tapering of his torso that would become more pronounced over the next several years. Muscles padded his sides, though there was nothing that hinted a fat. Down the center of his back was a ridge of tiny mountains, and I longed to run my fingers down them, on my journey to the flattening plain below and the deep valley farther still. His legs were muscled and straight. His feet were arched backward, the soles of his feet gently wrinkled. His toes curled tightly, and I imagined kissing each one of them, sucking them until his whole body vibrated - until something better was offered to me.

My eyes drifted back up his nearly hairless legs, following his muscular upper legs to that part of him, I would soon know so intimately. I was overwhelmed by his skin. Supple and smooth. Exquisitely soft, coated on his arms and legs with the barest hint of soft, light down, that I would later discover, when touched, only added to the velvety smoothness of his golden skin. But it was his two firm globes, which demanded my attention now. Pinched slightly at either side, they rose up majestically. They were smooth and perfectly shaped. Between them, a deep cleft seemed to pull at me as if some irresistible "black hole" were pulling my essence into itself. I smiled at the illusion. This hole seemed no less powerful, though I knew it to be soft and pink, a tight rim around his most secret of places. He may have fingered himself there, even used an assortment of toys, but he'd only gained the slightest sense of what was awaiting him. I sighed, and realized I was throbbing with hardness and leaking pre-cum.

I watched a moment longer as his back gently rose and fell. He seemed like Adam in paradise, a perfect creation, waiting for his mate. I slowly stepped out of the woods and padded down to the nearly twelve-year-old man-child. He didn't move.

I crouched down next to him, reached out, and let my fingers dance like a breeze-blown balloon down his back. He barely stirred, simply shifting ever-so-slightly, and sighing deeply. My hands inched toward his bottom, and soon the finest of pre-adolescent down that graced his lower back thinned and faded to nothing. His bottom was simply, gloriously smooth: velvety soft, warm, firm. His breathing shook as I caressed him there, and he finally lifted and turned his head in my direction. His eyes worked to open themselves, even as a smile spread across his face. He was all boy, and even the act of waking up reinforced that. He breathed in deeply, held it a moment, then exhaled. "Hi," he said in an easy, husky whisper.

"Hi," I said back and patted his bottom more firmly. That made his smile stretch until his gorgeous teeth were revealed, and he dropped his head onto his hands again.

"You gonna drift off again?"

"Uh huh."

"You're really gonna go back to sleep? Guess I must not be all that great company."

He stretched now, arching his back with tiny tremors rippling across his body. He laughed, recognizing that I was toying with him. "I hope you'll be really great company before too long," he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Ummm, have you decided yet?"

"I have."

"What?" He looked up, suddenly more attentive. Then he quickly crouched before me, arms splayed out, hands supporting him. "What did you decide?" A look of uncertainty flowed across his face.

"That I'm ready for a swim."

I reached up and with crossed arms tugged my t-shirt off. He raised up now, watching with interest, but he hadn't lifted enough to reveal any of his boyhood. I kicked off my sandals and then reached for my shorts. His eyes flitted from my gaze to my shorts. I unclasped my shorts, then lowered them, leaving only my bikini briefs covering my rapidly hardening penis. Jake's eyes were riveted to my crotch. He actually swallowed with apparent difficulty.

I hooked my hands into my underpants and began to pull them down. For a moment, I fantasized that Jake would spring to his feet and assist me, but in the same moment, I understood that he was fundamentally a shy boy, and that, while he, too, might have wanted to do that, he would not unless invited. So I turned slightly, shielding no doubt, some of what he longed to see. I pushed my underwear to the stone, rose up and stepped out of them. I turned toward him now, and my seven inches throbbed and pointed down right at his face. His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. I grinned down at him when he finally was able to draw his glance from my tool. He blushed, and I turned and dove into the water. It was cool and I felt my body tighten as the water covered me. I swam underwater to the other side, then surfaced, and lazily swam back to the center of the stream.

It was easy to imagine I was once again that scrawny thirteen year old kid as I moved slowly around taking in the scene. I heard a splash, then a moment later felt hands trace up along the sides of my body. My cock had in the moments I'd been submerged, lost its firmness, but Jake's soft hands sparked new life. His head broke the water, and as he held onto my arms, he beamed, proud of ability to act on his desire. I knew he wanted to say something, but didn't quite dare.

"Yes?" I said questioningly.

"It's big," he said, barely able to squelch a massive grin. He raised his eyebrows coyly.

"Looking underwater magnifies everything," I grinned.

"Not that much," Jake said with a blush.

I grinned and wrapped my arm around him, and, as if rescuing him, swam with him to shallower water. We stood down on the massive angled stone, and I sank down into the water, letting the buoyancy equalize our heights. As I crouched, my legs opened, and Jake stepped in between them. His leg hit my erection and his eyes dropped down to peer through the clear water between us. He looked back up and blushed. Then I felt his iron-hard little poker against my belly, and he blushed again.

"D'you have much to compare it to?" I asked, looking sideways at him.

He seemed confused for a moment. "Well, you're the only man I've even seen - you know - naked...except for some pictures from the Internet. And I'm not sure they really count." He blushed delightfully again, having admitted his prurient Internet interests. "And, um, my dad and Uncle Jake, you know. I think you're bigger than both of them.

I smiled. "I'm sure your dad's told you, or Uncle Jake, it's not how big you are, it's how you use what you've got, that's important." The thought struck me that he'd seen his father's erection, and again realized their relationship was very different to mine with my father.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "D'you think I'll be big like you?"

"I don't know, Jake. The truth is, I'm not all that big, you know - just a little bigger than average...but who knows? Maybe. Maybe you'll be bigger. Could be ten inches...or twelve. Hell, it might be a regular fire hose."

He giggled, then blushed again, and mumbled, "It's sure not now."

"Maybe not...yet," I said and reached down and felt for his little tool. When I grasped his uncut boyhood, he let out a gasp and stiffened all over. Actually, it wasn't all that little for a young prepubescent boy. Though I had yet to see it, I was guessing it was a good three and a half inches-maybe more. It was thin, perhaps a bit thicker than a Sharpie marking pen, but it seemed to fit perfectly in my hand. It was smooth, but underneath the loose foreskin, it was rigid-hard as wood. I squeezed gently and slid his loose skin up and down the shaft. I ran my thumb over his hot, silky head. He shivered at my action-enough to make little ripples spread out in the water from his body. "But I think you've got quite a nozzle, all the same!" He beamed licentiously. "Is it like this a lot? Hard as steel?"

"It didn't used to be, but now...I don't know why, but it like just sort of pops up."

"Just sort of, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah," he breathed with a grin.

"And you don't know why?"

He shook his head looking almost worried as if I might think less of him for that admission.

"I know," I said. "Because you're one hot, horny, little guy!" I reached out and brushed along the inside of his armpit. He squealed a giggle of boyish delight. I grinned at how alive he was.

Then suddenly, he grew more serious. "Cal, did you decide? Really?"

I looked into his eyes. "Yes, Jake, I did decide. Are you sure you want this? Really, really sure?"

We just stood there, water up to our chins, facing each other, my hand still holding his penis. Then, after a moment of thought, his answer quietly came in two forms: his rigid tool flexed once in my grasp, and a whispered, "I am." He shook, as if understanding for the very first time what this really meant. I think for both of us, hearing that (and feeling it), was a sort of mile marker. Our relationship, in that instant, had changed; our lives had changed. He licked his lips. It was an invitation, and I leaned in as he closed his eyes. Our lips brushed against the other's, and then I felt his hand on the back of my head. We kissed again. After a moment of gentle kissing, I felt his tongue press in between my lips, even as my tool pressed in between his thighs. He moved his legs together, and my hard penis pulsed. It felt like I might cum right then and there.

I had reluctantly released his penis, and now it was sandwiched between our two bodies, pointing straight up. He kissed me harder, exploring me. In between the waves of energy that surged from the places he was stimulating me to my brain, a thought emerged: Uncle Jake had taught him well. If a twelve-year-old, hot, firm, velvet tongue hadn't been dancing around my mouth, sucking the air from me, I would have told him.

Now he broke his kiss. "Cal, he said, reaching down between us. I felt his fingers grasp my manhood. "It's really hard."

I grinned. "I'm not the only one."

The boy grinned back, an endearing hint of color flowing into his cheeks.

"Are we...can we...you know...do it now?" He was actually panting, driven by his building need. For as sexy as he was, as loaded with pure, raw sexual energy, his question indicated his innocence. Despite how he'd prepared himself for his deflowering, he didn't really understand the incredible effort he would need to expend in order to do this.  We had no lube, nothing soft to lie on, and no real privacy. (Perhaps that shows my own innocence. Somehow I could explain away the scene that just transpired: a naked boy and a naked man passionately embraced and kissing, but the same man fucking that small, tight ass: somehow that left no doubt, not in my mind, not in a jury's mind.)

"No, Jake, I don't think this is the best place. I want to be totally comfortable...no happy wanderers walking in on us. He blushed, signaling he hadn't thought about that until this moment. And I think we'll need some lubrication...something more than a little spit-or a lot of spit."

Again he blushed and grinned. "We have some KY at the house." His color spread right up to the tips of his ears. Somehow I was surprised, though I probably shouldn't have been, that he knew about that.

"I know you do," I said smiling easily.

"Yeah, I suppose you do," he said. Then another thought flooded into his consciousness. "D'you like my dad?"

"Very, very much. Even way back when I was your age, I loved him. It was very hard for me, because he...because I couldn't talk to him about it, I couldn't show him my love." I dropped my eyes. "I think it was just too scary...for him...and for me, too. The past few days have made me see that I never got over loving him."

Jake smiled happily, and those deep blue summer-sky eyes sparkled. "I think he's very happy, Cal. I think he loves you, too." Now he looked away, and I could see the wheels turning. "Um, I'm not sure, but I don't think he's had much sex lately. He's gone out a couple of times, but...well, I don't know. I just think he was...waiting, I guess." Now a desperate look spread across the boy's face. "I really want him to be happy, Cal. I really do." He almost looked as if he were about to cry. And so was I. I pulled Jake to me and hugged him tightly. I pulled back and leaned in and kissed each eyelid, then his adorable little button nose. His face, save for a small scar at his right eyebrow, was unblemished perfection, smooth and soft-the skin of a child.

Now I twisted slightly and found his lips with mine. I kissed him hard and I felt his cock flex between us. Oh ye Greek gods of love, how I needed to feel that boy surrounding my manhood. What a love. I jammed my tongue through his full, firm lips, traced along to perfect, white teeth, danced with his own tongue, and explored his hot, wet cavern. We broke with an audible juicy pop.

He grinned with a lusty need.

"Your father should be very proud of you. If I had a son, I'd want him to be just like you." I hadn't expected it, but suddenly I was near the point of sobbing my heart out. Seeing in this beautiful boy, who stood so innocently before me, suddenly made me aware of what I would never have, and I was filled with regret. I loved this boy, but it wasn't the way a father loved a son.

Jake watched in silence for a moment and then slowly lifted his hand to my face. It was soft and warm. He was comforting me as he might his own son, as his father had no doubt comforted him.

"Cal?" he whispered.


 "Maybe we shouldn't...ah...do it."

I was shocked, though I tried to hide it. I tried to maintain control. "Where'd this come from?" I asked, trying to sound as relaxed as I possibly could under the circumstances.

I watched him work to form his thought and summon the courage to speak. He must have started and stopped a half-dozen times.

"Well...Do...um...If you...I mean...um...if we...do...have sex...do you think it will make my dad...feel bad? You know, like because you and him are...lovers?" He blushed.

My God, what a child, what a beautiful, sweet, boy. Now tears did spill down my cheeks.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a worried expression. "Are you mad?"

"No! No, Jake, nothing's wrong. It's just that what you just said is about the purest form of love I've ever experienced." The boy now wore a look of confusion. "I'm serious, J-man." I thought of the men I'd had relationships with, of Martin, and yes, even myself. None of us would deny ourselves for another. I was ashamed; I was proud; I loved this boy so much in this moment. "You would deny yourself something you really, really, want, to ensure the happiness of your father. That is so, so beautiful. Oh, God, Jake, you are so special, so very, very, special."

The boy dropped his eyes. He blushed, but only slightly. The air was heavy with sexual energy, but this was fundamentally not about sex. This was about simple love-the love of a child for his parent. It was better than all the hallmark moments ever written. It was pure and honest. I reached out and hugged him to me. "I think your father understands," I whispered in his ear. "I think if he thought it would make him feel..." I stopped. I was about to say, if it was going to make him feel bad, then he wouldn't agree to it, but I realized I was wrong. Andy would sacrifice his feelings, to see his son happy.

"Why'd you stop?" the boy asked.

"Because I realized something, J-man," I said. "You're father loves you so much. Just as you're willing to sacrifice your desire to make sure he's happy, he'd sacrifice his happiness for yours."

He looked dumbfounded, but understanding I was telling the truth. "What should I do?" the now terribly vulnerable boy asked.

I smiled. "I think you know. I think you need to talk to him about this. Tell him what you told me. Ask him how he feels. You love him too much and respect him too much not to." I smiled again. "And he loves you too much not to be honest in his answer."

I could see the frustration growing in his expression-the twisted, off-center curl of his lips, the furrowed brow, the squinting eyes. "I wish I'd never brought it up."

I pulled him to me again.

"No you don't," I said. "It's part of being a man, Jake: caring enough to ask the tough questions. You weren't really asking me. You were asking yourself." He lifted away and looked into my eyes. "Weren't you?" I asked.

He blinked, and a tear spilled down over his cheek. He frowned, struggling to hold back the tears. He simply nodded.

"Let's go find out the answer." Together we walked up to our clothes. We used our t-shirts to dry off, as best we could, and then stood a while to let the air dry us a bit more.

"You called me J-man," the boy said as we stood there in the sun's heat.

"Yeah," I said with a grin, I guess I did."

"Only my dad calls me that," he said.

"I'm...sorry...it just came out."

"It's okay, Cal. I like it when you call me that. Now it'll be just my dad, and you."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it seems right."

I smiled and bent down to pull on my underpants and shorts. Jake-J-man-followed suit. Together we started to walk back to the house. "You really think I need to ask him?"

"Yeah...J-man, I do...and so do you. Right?"

Before he had a chance to answer, Andy stepped out of the thick foliage of the woods. "Ask me what?"


By nine o'clock that night, we had returned from dinner at the one real restaurant in the area. We had gotten dressed up, Jake looking positively preppy. It was as if we were celebrating some special event, and though none of us spoke of it, I suppose we were. By quarter of ten, none of the three of us in the house seemed able to focus on anything-not the cribbage board, the jigsaw puzzle, the GameBoy, or the TV. Instead each was in his own thoughts about what awaited Jake and me upstairs. Finally, the boy tossed the GameBoy down onto the couch, grunted a sound of utter frustration, and abruptly shifted, slid down a bit, and stretched his legs rigidly out in front of him. The two grownups looked over at him, then at each other. In any other circumstance, the boy's desperate intensity might have elicited a smile from his father or me. It was after all a classic boyish expression of utterly not knowing what to do with himself. Then he abruptly sat up, tugged at the hem of his shorts and sat still, biting the inside of his lip. His foot was tapping out an impossibly fast rhythm. It said he couldn't wait a moment longer, but knowing he had to. When I finally caught the boy's eyes, they were filled with need, with longing, and yes, even uncertainty. The pre-pubescent twelve-year-old was ready to begin a journey, an adventure. He thought he understood all that was involved, but like most children, there were things he couldn't know...but even the unknown pulled at him relentlessly.

Without speaking, I looked back at the boy's father, and Andy nodded. We all knew it was time, time to begin that journey. Like the boy, both Andy and I felt our own uncertainty, though again no doubt for reasons different to those of the boy. We knew what lay ahead for the boy - at least for tonight, at least in the short term.

Uncle Jake had talked to the boy lovingly at they lay in bed together, naked. He explained much about sex to the boy, about love, but I suspected the boy was so anxious - anticipating, wanting, and fearing all at the same time - that he'd pushed much of the old man's mentoring to the back of his mind. All he knew was that he wanted to know - to feel - what it was like to be loved by a man in this absolute kind of way. And he wanted me to show him.

I stood now, and Jake's eyes followed mine as I stood. One more wave of uncertainty flooded over him as he realized his time was rapidly approaching.

I stepped over to him, and reached out my hand. Hesitatingly, he reached up and put his soft hand in mine and I gently urged him to his feet. I sighed, feeling the heaviness of responsibility, and put my arm around his shoulder. The boy literally was in my hands. I felt a tiny tremble shudder across him. "You ready?" I said softly. He blinked and swallowed and finally nodded. Together we moved toward the stairs, but then Jake paused, and turned to his father. His hand slipped from mine, and he held his arms open. His father quickly stepped to him, and they embraced. "Always," I heard Andy whisper to his son, "if you're certain of nothing else, always be certain of who you are. You are in control, son. Remember that. Be yourself. I love you, Jake. I always will." He lifted away, then leaned in and kissed his son on the lips. It was not a sexual kiss in any way; it was simply a father expressing his deep and profound love for his son.


Jake switched on the light on the bedside table as I shut the door to the bedroom. We were alone, and the anticipation was palpable. You could cut the energy that hung between us with a knife.

"What should I do?" Jake murmured.

I smiled. "Relax?"

One of the things Uncle Jake taught me was to take my time. Not to rush. To breathe. "Jake, we're going to take this slow...one step at a time. We don't need to do this in a hurry. Okay?"

"Easy for you to say," Jake said in a mock sulking tone, though no doubt no small bit of truth was contained in his words. He smiled a coy half-smile and then grew serious. Jake's sky-blue eyes were riveted to mine. He stood still, nodded just slightly, then murmured, "Okay." He seemed like a vulnerable little boy, and I reached out with my hand, and gently stroked his soft cheek. I bent down and kissed him on the forehead. I lifted away, and he looked...almost disappointed, I suppose. He lifted his head, and I realized he wanted more, but was perhaps a bit too shy to initiate it himself. I smiled, and he seemed to relax a bit, and I leaned back down, lifted his chin with my hand, and kissed him on the nose, and then the lips. They were warm and firm, full, but in perfect proportion with his sweet face. It was a light kiss - fleeting - but it signaled our intention to be together this night.

He sighed deeply when our lips parted, and as my hand rested lightly on his shoulder, I felt the slightest of tremors course through his body. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes almost delicate in their appearance. His pert little nose stood upright like other parts of his anatomy were-or would be before long.

His stance was firm and erect (!), but there was nonetheless a vulnerability to it, as if he were waiting to go through some secret ritual that he only dimly understood.

I knelt and removed his Nikes, then his socks. I slid off my loafers and socks. Then I bent and placed a soft kiss on each of his feet. If there was one thing not quite in proportion on Jake's body, it was his feet: They seemed just a bit bigger that they should be. Sometimes as puberty strikes, the extremities seem to grow at different rates, and I wondered it this was the case with Jake. He stiffened when he felt my adulation of his feet.

It was warm in the room, and for that I was grateful. I stood now and reached out and gently began to unbutton the top button of his shirt. His eyes opened now, and his gaze burned into mine. His small red tongue flitted out and wet his lips, preparing himself, it seemed, for what was to come.

By now I had the bottom button of his shirt undone, and his chest and torso were exposed to my greedy eyes. His small, muscled chest rose and fell gently. What was it about that velvety smooth, hairless chest that pulled me like a magnet - an irresistible force drawing me in. I leaned lower and drew my lips lightly over his left nipple. A tiny intake of breath through his own lips told me my touch excited him. I nibbled gently on the little bronze b-b and let my hands dip under his shirt and caress his sides and back. Again, while his body was taut and lithe, he was not skinny, and only when I reached further and traced down his spine could I feel any of his bones-otherwise it was pure, smooth skin and muscle my hands explored.

He practically vibrated under my touch. I almost smiled, having forgotten and now remembering how quickly a young boy can be aroused - how quickly I became aroused when I was Jake's age. I slipped my hands up over his arms and allowed his shirt to fall down along his sides. I pulled his shirttails out of his pants and unbuttoned the last button. The shirt fell to the floor. He had opened his eyes now, and he again stared into my eyes. They seemed to seek my approval. I could see he was wondering if he way okay in my eyes.

"You're magnificent," I breathed, "A beautiful boy. Awesome." He blushed slightly and offered a smile, pleased that I appreciated his body. I brought one hand around, and as I leaned in and worked his right nipple with my tongue and teeth, I drew my hand over his firm belly. The skin was so smooth and soft and warm and firm, like the skin of a baby, but with gently rippling muscles and the slightly tapering form of a young man. I heard him gulp, then sigh and swallow hard. I suddenly felt his warm hands on my shoulders, and I realized he felt the need to steady himself. As my fingers danced lightly around his whirlpool of a navel, his belly tightened more, and then, pressing my fingers downward, a long, low sigh of breath expelled from him. My fingers found the edge of his shorts, and I lifted and let my hand float downward. At first I felt only the texture of the fabric, but then, as my fingers groped lower, I felt a pulsing mass rising under the fabric. I pressed against his hidden treasure, and it flexed. I dipped down and cupped his covered balls, then palmed his boyhood under his clothes.

A high-pitched little squeal-ly breath tore from his throat; again in that instant he sounded more like a four-year-old than an eleven year old on the cusp of puberty. I felt him press himself against me.

"You like that?" I whispered.

"Uh huh," he breathed with a shaking voice. "Oh...yeah-h-h...." His sigh trailed off to nothing. He was breathing with shallow, rapid breaths, and waves of tremors passed through his body. I knew it was time to move on.

I moved my hand up and unclasped his shorts, then, looking into his eyes, lowered his zip. His shorts dropped to his feet. His loose-fitting green and blue plaid boxers tented boldly. The location of his meatus was identified by a small darker circle at the apex of the outcropping. His legs filled out the boxers nicely. I never wore boxers, preferring the snugness of briefs. Boxers for me always emphasized how skinny my legs were. Not so with Jake, or his father for that matter.

As I surveyed the boy I would soon strip of virginity, I noticed a vein in his neck pulsing quickly. It throbbed in exactly the same rhythm as his hidden cock.

Now I began to undress myself, unbuttoning the first button of my shirt. My "student" watched every tiny move. "You can help, you know. I won't bite."

With halting movements, he reached out and took over the process of removing my shirt. He swallowed dryly, and had a look merging wonderment and uncertainty. It was the look of a boy who might be sitting on the bench of his favorite NFL team: "I can't believe I'm doing this!" But he was, and very intent, too. He pulled my shirt from my pants and somewhat awkwardly lifted it off my shoulders and slid it down my arms. Having completed this first step, he swallowed again, looking like James Bond defusing an explosive-serious and intense.

I nodded my approval, and encouragement. He shot a glance down at my pants. "Go ahead, J-man," I murmured.

With shaking hands he reached out and unbuckled my belt, unclasped my pants and lowered the zip which covered my swollen package.

With a few halting tugs, he lowered my chinos, to reveal my briefs. Again he licked his lips. His unblinking gaze was riveted on my crotch. My cock flexed once, and so intent was he, it almost seemed to startle him.

He flashed a quick glance, catching my eyes, and back down again. He reached out, but then stopped, uncertain if he should do what he so wanted to do. "Please," I whispered.

Carefully, though inexpertly, he dragged my briefs down over my manhood. As he worked, he trembled, and as he freed my penis and it sprang upright, he lowered himself as if in awe. Sex is a powerful thing, but for a boy, sexual energy can build like flash flood waters behind a dam. The power he was experiencing from within was literally overpowering him. He simply was responding to each new stimulus with raw sexual energy. In this moment my cock was the focus of all that, and yet I could see he was almost paralyzed by the moment. I took his head in my hands and guided him closer. Now, panting like a marathon runner, he swallowed, licked his lips again, and leaned in, and gently eased back my foreskin. "Yours is easier than mine," he breathed.

I was momentarily confused, but then realized he meant pulling back my foreskin. "Mine's just had more use," I said, and the sparkle in his eyes and grin on his lips matched mine.

He extended his tongue, running his warm, wet organ of taste around my head.

"Ahhhrgghhh." I groaned at his touch and stiffened. "Oh, J-man," I sighed. "That's incredible." Now he extended it again, and ran it over my slit. I was leaking pre-cum like a faucet, and I knew he'd taste something different now. He broke away and glanced up. "That's my pre-cum," I explained. "You know about that?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, "Uncle Jake told me. Yours tastes different, though."

"From his?"

"Yeah," he replied. He gazed back at my tool and then lowered himself over it. The head must have nearly filled his mouth, and I felt his tongue running along the rim. Again I moaned. The feeling of having a virginal mouth sucking down on me was incredible. He took more of me in, sucking down harder, then backed off, and dove down on me again. His soft, warm hands held my hips, but then his right hand drifted down between my legs and he played gently with my balls. I could feel the tremors which coursed through his body transmitted through his mouth into my cock. Each time he pressed further onto me, each time he pulled back, tiny aftershocks vibrated along my seven-inch shaft. It only added to stimulation the boy was giving me.

Finally, all the signs were there, and I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I took hold of the boy's head and urged him upward. He looked up at me, wearing an expression that suggested he was worried he'd done something wrong. "Jake," I said softly. "You're too awesome. If you'd kept working me like that I was sure to cum, and I want to save it. He blushed immediately - both at the praise and the acknowledgement of what was awaiting him. "But," I added, "it was incredible." I leaned down and kissed his raw, red lips. I let my tongue urge itself in through his lips. I could taste myself inside him. He pressed against me and I felt his boyhood poking into my thigh. He'd trapped my penis, lifting it between our bellies. His skin was hot against it. A soft moan drifted from his throat. He made small, slow-motion humping motions against my thigh. I reached down and slipped my hands behind him, following the smooth, firm contours of his back down under his boxers.

Ah, those two incredible mounds so exquisitely sculpted. My hands flowed over them like honey on melons. At their touch, my heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. Everything about them set me on fire: the smoothness of the skin...the firmness of the muscle, the warmth, the inviting curves that urged my fingers inward toward his hidden treasure.

If his increased movement and little moans were any indication, my caresses awakened him even as his ass in my hands was awakening me. He jammed his three inches of hardness against my leg and ground against me until I worried he'd injure himself. I slid my hands around onto his hips, and held him as I lifted away from him. I dropped down, and drew my hands toward his front. I eased his green and blue plaid boxers down over his hips and genitals in front and those glorious buns in back.

The boxers dropped to the floor, and he stepped out of them.

Jake put his hands on my shoulders to steady himself as his body was wracked with waves of tremors. I had to again remind myself that what this boy's body was experiencing was so new to him. I remember what it was like for me. Sex was like a series of lightning strikes. And I suspected it was that way with Jake as well. Every response was exaggerated. It was if his body were super-charged. His systems were either off or on, and the least little stimuli seemed to put him over the edge. His shallow, quick breathing, his rapid heartbeat, the heat that poured off his body all suggested he was pure 100% preteen boy in his sexual response - and I'd hardly begun.

Now I continued to ease his boxers down revealing his pure three and a half inches of boyhood. His foreskin covered his glans and even extended beyond it by a quarter of an inch. I gently grasped his cock and eased his prepuce back over his glans. He sighed at that sensation. His perfectly shaped cock head glistened a deep pink, almost purple. It was so much smaller than I'd expected for some reason. But it was pure perfection. And he'd been right, earlier, about his foreskin.

"You're right, J-man. Your foreskin is tight. Has it always been like that?

"I guess."

"Has you penis gotten bigger?"

"Yeah," he said. "A little."

"Well, sometimes your foreskin doesn't grow as fast as the rest of your cock, so it can get a little tighter. You...um...take care of it, right? You pull it back and clean under there, right?"

"Yeah," he said, suddenly sounding unusually shy-at least for him.

"How often do you do it, Jake? Jerk off, I mean." He reddened now and seemed uncertain. "Everyday, I bet," I said, testing.

"I don't know...maybe..."

"Maybe more, huh. A couple of times?" He blushed even more and I knew I was closer to the truth. "Well, Jake, get keep doing that, and each time, ease your foreskin back, and it'll get a little easier. And ease it back when you pee, too. All that action will help keep it looser." I leaned in and blew across his head. He actually gasped and shuddered at that subtle stimulation.

Now I leaned in closer and smelled his warm aroma that drifted off his body - pure boy.

My hands drew along his legs, savoring the soft down that covered him, and his even softer skin. He was warm and smooth. My hands eased back around his thighs as they lifted higher. Despite his warmth, he trembled and my fingers traced along his skin, higher, and higher, until they found the lower edges of his butt.

If this was a new experience for Jake, it was also new for me. I'd never been with a boy before; the last time I'd longed to be with a boy was thirty years ago, and now, in a mysterious blending of reality and fantasy, I was with that boy. I caressed his ass; and like a sexual barometer, my cock registered high pressure. I couldn't imagine anything that could compare. My fingers explored his butt-cheeks, savoring their warmth and firmness and smoothness. At the same time, I leaned in and planted light brushing kisses on his thighs. I nestled my nose gently between his legs, opening him, and twisting slightly, planted a kiss on the insides of each of his delicious thighs. I lifted up, and the tip of my nose nudged his ball sac. One of his balls hung slightly lower than the other, and my nose gently bumped against his eggs.

With my hands, I gently urged him backward toward the bed. He understood my intent, took a few steps backward, sat down and leaned back, propping himself, resting on his elbows. He opened his legs, parting them in a "V", inviting me, exposing the apex of his sexual energy. His little stiffy pulsed like a metronome. The white sheets set off his incredible tanned body.

I rose up, stepped to him and lowered myself down, resting my hands on his knees. They were deliciously warm. Jake smiled nervously. It reminded me how I had felt in his place-in this very bed. As a child, everything was so new for me. I wanted to do everything the right way. I wanted Uncle Jake to be proud of me. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to make him feel good. I didn't know much, but I knew that much about sex: it was about making each other feel good. I wanted it to be perfect for him. And, inevitably for an innocent young boy, with that urgent desire to please came uncertainty, because a young novice simply can't know how to do what he so desperately needs to do. I saw that look now in Jake. The secret, which I now suddenly understood is that simply being a boy, is enough for his adult lover.

"It's okay, Jake, you're incredible," I whispered. "I can't believe we're here, sharing each other in this way. It's...awesome. It's going to be great. Just relax...let it happen." I remembered being with Uncle Jake and how he so lovingly guided me every step of the way. "I'll help you to know what to do when you need to."

I ran my hands along his inner thighs, which made him spread them even more. His bottom was just on the edge of the bed. I pressed my fingers under him, and again held his ass in my hands. My face felt hot with passion. My pulse raced. I lowered my head and planted a slow, wet kiss along that shallow valley that signaled the joining of his leg to his torso. He practically squealed when I did that, and from the corner of my eye, I saw his cock flex, trying against the limits of his small body to strengthen even more.

I kissed at the mirror-image of the same spot on the other side, being careful to avoid contact with his penis. When I didn't touch it, he did, bringing his right hand to his rigid tool. He tried to ease his foreskin back over his glans, and it wouldn't go. It was a tight little sucker (so to speak)!

"Here's a trick, Jake," I said as I gently lifted his hand from his tool. I grasped his glans as carefully as I could. I smiled. "Take your head in your fingers..." With my other hand, I grasped his foreskin. "And...squeeze." I squeezed his little glans, about the size of a large marble, compacting it to momentarily force the blood from it. Instantly, the boy stiffened, sucked in a massive, desperate breath, and grabbed onto my arms. I slipped his foreskin over his glans. It was done, but Jake looked like he was about to explode. He swallowed hard, and reached back down protectively covering his boyhood. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" I asked.

"No...it just felt...well...unbelievable."

"Well...just wait..." I leaned back down, and nuzzled his balls once again, slipping my fingers back under his butt. My hands wanted to live there forever.

Now I tilted my head and gently nibbled on one of his balls, eventually coaxing it away from his body enough to suck it hard into my mouth. He did squeal this time, like the little boy that he was. His balls were the size of small grapes. I wondered if they'd grown much lately as well. I worked the other one and soon was sucking on two boy-eggs. Within a year I felt certain, the twelve-year-old would be well into puberty, thanks in part to the magical contents of these firm little orbs.

Now I released his hot little balls, lifted and in one move sucked the boy's tool hard into my mouth. He squirmed and squealed, and then lifted up off the bed, pressing himself deeper into me. If he was in heaven, so was I. Every muscle of his tight little body was taut and hard. His nipples were like nail points. Veins pulsed in his neck, and a soft sheen had appeared on his skin. I swirled my tongue around his penis, and he groaned. I began to work him, forming a tight vacuum, and plunging down on him until my lips kissed his pubis, then back off. My tongue was in constant motion, exploring every millimeter of his perfectly shaped tool. Then when I sensed he was close, I carefully worked his foreskin up then down, covering, then exposing that incredible knob to my needy tongue.

It was like a switch went off in the boy, sending him into overdrive. His body locked suddenly in a kind of seizure. He straightened, snapping his head backward, and tightening every muscle in his body beyond what it already was. Now he actually whimpered, and I pulled back, swirled my tongue over his glans one last time, and his hips bucked wildly upward, ramming his tool into the back of my mouth. Spasm after spasm - two, then three, then half a dozen - spasms of pure boy orgasm hit: massive shuddering contractions that struggled to eject that substance that would not appear for another year or more. His back, which had arched nearly a half a foot off the bed, now eased, and I held him, lowering his exhausted and spent body back to the bed. Immediately, I felt his hands on my head, holding me still. I held him in my mouth, bathing him in my warm juices but being careful not to add any stimulation. Again, I remembered what it was like for me as a preteen having sex. The climax was incredible, but afterward, the extreme sensitivity of my penis made further contact almost uncomfortable - for the immediate future anyway.

Jake was responding in the same way. His gasps eased into pants, then slower, longer breaths, and soon he seemed to be totally drained of the energy that had only seconds ago wracked his body.

I lifted off him, and moved him further onto the bed, lifting his legs from where they dangled over the edge. I straightened his body and looked down at him. If he wasn't asleep, he was nearly so. His body, including his rapidly softening penis, seemed completely at ease.

I lay down next to him, and like an infant seeking its mother, he snuggled up against me. I kissed his forehead, then his cheek. He sighed, never opening his eyes. An easy smile grew on his lips. He reached around me, and pulled himself to me, crushing his boyhood into my pubes. I reached out and cupped his warm, firm ass in my hands. He trembled slightly and his smile grew.


I came to slowly, aware of a pressure building inside me. The pressure was centered in my cock. I realized I was rock hard and I became aware my cock was nestled practically its whole length like a wiener in a bun. In my waking state, I became aware of the softness and the warm that enveloped me. I tried to open my eyes and clear my head. And then in an instant, I was fully awake. I knew where I was, who was with me, and why we were there. Sometime between the time Jake has snuggled up against me and now, he had turned around. Like two spoons, we fitted against each other, my front to his back. My cock was nestled in the length of the deep valley along the center of his ass. Oh God, it was an incredible feeling.

My penis flexed once, strong and firm as testimony to the arousal I was experiencing even in my slumber. Now the twelve-year-old, who was my partner for the night, snickered as my manhood throbbed against his back door.

We'd left the light on, so I could easily see my partner's naked body conforming to mine. I reached around and ran my fingers lightly over his nipples. He shivered and sucked air in through his teeth.

"So...you decided to wake up?" I asked, lowering my hand, following the muscled contours of his lithe, young body, stopping to gently explore his navel. He giggled like a little boy.

"Well," he said between his easy laughter, "someone had to wake you up." I felt his butt cheeks tighten on my cock, which made me throb as if my penis had been hit with an electrical charge.

"You certainly did that," I breathed into his ear.

"Yeah..." Again, I felt his ass cheeks tighten on my tool. My hand drifted lower and found his hard little penis.

The skin was fairly loose below his glans, but underneath the skin...well...it was as if his soft skin were covering a spike. When my fingers savored its texture and shape, it sent shivers through me - and Jake.

We lay together like that for a long time, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally I felt the boy's warm hand on my hip. He rubbed gently. "Cal," he asked, "are we...um...can we...do it now?"

"Oh...J-man..." I sighed. "Are you sure...are you really, really sure?"

He paused just a second before answering. "I am."

Slowly, I shifted now, pulling my cock away from his back door. I slipped my hand in its place, and gently ran my hand up and down his warm, smooth cheeks. He sighed, and as I began to move my fingers into his furrow, I heard his breathing begin to change. I smiled, again struck at the sensitivity of a young boy's body. I got up and got the large, plush bath towel I had placed in the room earlier in the day. I retrieved the KY as well.

"What's that for?" Jake asked as I urged up to lift so I could place the towel under him.

"Jake," I began, "how much did your Uncle tell you about anal sex?"

He reddened. "He said it was incredible."

I chuckled. "Yeah, he got that right, but what else?"

"He said it hurt at first, especially the first time, especially if you're not prepared."

"That's true, too." I waited for more.

"He said...the man has to be very careful...but I know you will be."

"I'll certainly try. I don't want to hurt you...anymore than needs be." I waited again. "Did he talk about the...unexpected things that can happen?"

"L...l...like what?" Jake was growing more worried by all my questions.

"When a man's cock is inside you, for instance, it can push your organ's around. If it hits your bladder, it can push a little pee out your dick. He nodded again, showing he understood. "Sometimes, it gets really juicy inside you..." He smirked at that. "...and it can leak out. And sometimes, afterward, it can take a while for you to tighten up again, and your partner's cum can leak out." He was listening as if it were a final lecture before a final exam. "And sometimes, Jake, there can be blood." His eyes grew wider.


I smiled. For as intelligent as he was, and as much as his great-uncle had told him, he was still an innocent. "It has to do with how big the man's penis is...and how small the boy's hole is...and how well the boy can relax, and how rough the man is."

Suddenly, the reality of what he was about to do seemed to really sink in. "But you'll be...I mean you won't..."

"Jake, I'll be a gentle as I can. But a lot of this is up to you."

"I've been practicing with the dildo that Uncle Jake gave me. I can make it pretty loose."

"Well," I said, rubbing my hand over his warm smooth butt, "that's all good."

"Cal, when we do it...it still feels...you know...good...right?"

By now, I'd slipped the towel under him. "Oh, yes, J-man, oh, yes. Once you get past the pain, it's like nothing you've ever experienced before - at least it was for me, even the first time. It's awesome in the truest sense of the word." I smiled at him and he grinned back, relieved to know that his desire would ultimately be rewarded.

Now, carefully, adjusting his boyhood, I rolled him onto his stomach. I parted his legs, lifted myself over them, and knelt between his knees. He twisted his head around, trying to watch. His breathing had quickened, and I could almost feel his vulnerability as he lay there, prepared to surrender all to me. I rested my hands on his cheeks, and gently massaged. The sharp cleft that divided them was like some narrow entranceway that would lead me to a place of mystery and power. Stepping through it would take me to a place I'd never been before.

I leaned down and kissed each cheek. He shivered at virtually everything I did - my palms resting on the sides of his firm melons, my thumbs stroking his alabaster skin, my lips just on either side of that furrow, even my soft, warm breath. I shifted slightly and ran my nose up and down the length of his crack. I breathed in his boy scent, his musky-sweet heat. Gently now, I parted his cheeks with my fingers, and lifting away, beheld the center of that wondrous entrance that would take me - take us both - on this life-changing trip.

It was slightly puckered - more so than I'd expected, and I realized this might be because of the toy he'd been using. He wasn't bruised, really, it was just a bit more "pronounced" than I was expecting. As I watched, it sort of "winked" at me, tightening, closing in on itself.

I leaned in and planted a kiss on the insides of his furrow, breathing in his essence. His breathing was growing increasingly ragged, each intake of breath a series of halting shudders. When he felt my moist lips so close to his secret place, he offered the softest breathy moan, and I could feel his body stiffen. I'd never rimmed anyone before, and I hadn't thought much about it until now, but suddenly I remembered Uncle Jake's tongue pressing into my boy hole, remembered the electricity that surged out from his touch in my quivering body, and I needed to give young Jake the same pleasure.

I kissed my way down his now shallow valley to his anus, took a breath, and planted a soft, wet kiss right on his bud. His fragrance and the feel of his soft pucker on my lips combined to overpower me, taking me almost to another plane of existence, sucking me in (reminding me of Ganymede's story, "The Worm-Hole"). He reached behind him, and I felt his fingertips curl through my hair, urging me on, though I wonder if he knew to what. Under my hands, his bottom spasmed, beside me, I felt his legs tighten. Little "oohs" escaped with his every breath. It was momentarily the oddest of sensations: I was kissing his asshole as if it were his lips, and deriving every bit as much pleasure from it as if my lips were caressing his. I could taste him, though it was not the pungent flavor I expected. I extended my tongue, running it lightly around his anus. He squealed at this delight, and again his pucker winked shut. His taste was suddenly stronger, but still not unpleasant. Then I pressed the tip of my tongue more insistently on the center of his hole. He remained tightly closed. I waited.

When I felt him relax, I "mmmmm'd" my approval, and deliberately pressed the tip of my tongue into him. He sucked in a ragged, halting breath-sounding desperate for oxygen. He stiffened all over, and I felt my tongue being nearly pinched in two as he tried to expel me. I resisted, waited, and pressed in farther. His tight little anus was hot and firm - taut - like a band of powerful rubber that had been stretched and was wanting to return to its normal state.

I pulled out a bit, and he reacted again. For another several seconds, I worked his hole with my tongue, each time pressing into him a little deeper, each time the soft wedge of my organ of taste stretching him a tiny bit more - or was it his anus was compressing my tongue a tiny bit more. His soft gasps and moans punctuated my action. My saliva drooled down on him, draining across his hole, down his perineum to his compact sac and the treasure it contained. With my tongue buried in him and my lips forming a seal around his rim, I released his cheeks, and they eased in around my face. I felt his satiny warmth. I took his hands from my head and urged them to his ass. He almost instantly understood, and pulled his cheeks apart once again. Blindly, I reached for the KY.

While continuing to work my tongue back and forth, I flipped the top of the KY tube and squeezed some out on my finger. It was a challenge, because I was working at it by feel, but I managed to get a glob on my finger.

I now gently pulled out, freeing my tongue. I was a little startled when I realized it felt odd, and I realized I was using muscles I wasn't used to using - my tongue muscles. (I hoped I wouldn't be "lame" later on.)  As soon as I was free, I lifted away, and wiped my mouth of the excess saliva. Again, Jake twisted around, this time to see why I'd stopped. Now I gazed back down at his spread cheeks, his two hands stretching himself wide. What a vision: his twelve-year-old body (which was in no particular way different from a younger body except perhaps it he had lengthened somewhat), with those two sweet hands pulling at his ass cheeks to expose his virgin hole. I shook as I looked down at him - at it. This was a I was about to plow into. Why was I excited in a way I'd never been before? I mean, he was a boy! I gazed down on his beauty. He was firm and smooth, unblemished. Needy. Unsure. Desperate. Hungry. Vulnerable. But, ye gods, he was a child - albeit a very horny child, but a child nonetheless. And I realized I wasn't feeling this way in spite of his youth. I was feeling this way because of his youth. His boyish glance. His exuberance for anything that seemed even a little fun. It was his sweetness. It was his innocence. I was about to take that from him. He would be different after this. When we looked at each other, we would know what we'd done in this bed...how we'd joined, becoming one, sharing each other's heat in a way that no one can imagine. He would walk down the street and people would look at him and see a handsome boy on the cusp of adulthood, and yet he would possess a secret - a forbidden knowledge, something meant for those who had already passed through puberty. He lay before me as a virgin on a sacrificial altar. He couldn't know what awaited him, not really. And yet, he was about to give himself to me, and I would take him.

Carefully, I lowered my finger to the center of his energy. When I touched, it gently pulled in on itself. "Just try to relax, Jake," I whispered softly. "Try to stay as loose as you can right here." I eased my slicked-up finger around the muscled rim of his anus. He stiffened. I smiled at the effect my touch had on him. I watched as his anus seemed almost to convulse, as if it were confused and wasn't sure what to do, but then it seemed to open some, not forcibly, but just more in a relaxed state. I stroked around his rim once again, lightly. Then I dipped in, inserting my finger past the fingernail. Actually, I could have gone deeper, but I wanted to savor the tightness this way. And he was tight, for as I pressed in, any looseness he'd managed to achieve disappeared in one pronounced spasm. A shiver rippled through him, and his asshole clamped down on my finger tight. I pressed farther, slowing as my knuckle lodged against his pucker. I pulled back a bit and gently twisted my finger.

He lifted and pressed back onto my finger, shuddering slightly as my knuckle again assaulted his rim. I pressed more firmly; the boy seemed to freeze momentarily, and I wedged my way past his ring. "Did that hurt?" I asked, patting the back of his right thigh.

"No," he breathed. "Not really." He paused before adding sheepishly, "I've had bigger things there."

"Oh, you have, have you?" I eased in as deep as I could and pressed gently against his pucker. He shook as tremors rippled out from that spot. He felt so hot inside, so soft, so slick. My finger was completely encased in snug warmth. My eyes blurred. I wasn't prepared for this. Suddenly I felt so secure, so protected. I savored that odd feeling for a moment, wondering what he was feeling. Then I slowly began to stretch him. I leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to get you ready, now, J-man. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." The word caught in his throat, his pure boy soprano voice suddenly sounding as taut every muscle in his small body.

Being careful to avoid his immature prostate, I slowly began to finger-fuck his tight eleven-year-old ass. With each thrust, his body would tense, and he'd press back, trying to take more of me inside him. His breathing was a series of sharp, irregular intakes of air. His back, rippled with the hint of muscle. He was lithe enough that the bones of his rib cage were only just barely visible, and that only when he breathed deeply. The slightest hint of perspiration added a soft sheen to his skin, making his body look even smoother. I leaned over him, trailing my nose up along his spine.

I lay my head against his back and I could hear his ragged breathing. I could hear his heart pounding rapidly.

Each time I plunged into him, he'd lift to meet me. With every thrust, his torso would tighten, and a quiet, short little grunt would escape from his nose or mouth. Now, I moved a second finger down along the first, daubing up any excess lube. I slowed my action, pulled the first finger almost all the way out, and then gently tried to wriggle the second finger in beside it. Jake had gotten quite loose, I thought, as I worked my single finger in and out of him, so I was a bit surprised to feel another spasm as his anus tightened against my easy assault. When I felt the resistance, I pulled the first finger out all the way, and tried to line up my fingertips to minimize their girth. With this blunt spear of fingers, I pressed back against him, holding firm, moving my fingertips in tight little circles, then trying, every few turns to move past his ring.

"I'm sorry," the boy breathed, after several unsuccessful attempts to enter him. He sounded desperate and worried the way a child might typically sound if an adult were angry with him.

"Jake," I whispered, the heat of my words flowing across his smooth back. "There's no need to be sorry. It's just normal...and what we're doing is...well...you just need to get used to opening up. It'll happen...just try..."

"I know," he interrupted. "...to relax."

I smiled, shifted downward, and kissed his small taut butt cheek. "That's right, honey." I waited, my fingers like a nervous boy waiting to get into a bathroom stall-dancing lightly first one way, then the other. Eventually he seemed to loosen, and I managed to get both fingertips in. I felt him tense and suck in a sharp breath in through his teeth. Again, I let my fingertips sit there, feeling his impossible tightness, wondering if he really could stretch enough to accommodate me. I twisted gently, massaging his rim, pressing against his tight resistance. My other hand caressed his body, my goal, to keep him as aroused as possible, to keep his mind focused on things other than the inevitable pins-and-needles feeling in his virgin bud.

With each move, I pressed my fingers deeper. I watched his muscles tense at some points, and I could tell he was working hard to open to me, to take my fingers deeper inside him.

Once I heard him almost whimper. His anus clamped tightly around my fingers - I'd buried them to the big knuckle, but there I stopped. "Let's just wait..." I whispered. I knew eventually, he would feel a virgin's pain, but that he was feeling a hint of that already bothered me. I didn't want the pain to be what he remembered, but he needed to stretch. I held them still. I continued to massage his back and sides, and after a moment, I felt his muscular rim begin to weaken. I could have gone deeper then, but I decided to pull back and try to work three fingers inside him. As I removed my fingers, I stared at his hole. It closed dramatically, but not completely. His ring, which had been stretched to a bloodless white, now filled with a throbbing red. Inside, what little I could see was darker still.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked with a note of concern in his voice.

"Nothing's wrong," I answered. "I just want to go a bit slower." I paused and patted his butt. "I think it will be better....Just..."

"I know," he mumbled into the pillow. "Just relax."

I snickered.

"It's not easy, you know, when you've got me so excited, I feel like it's gonna' happen any second."

"Yeah," I said, "I'd like to see that!" I grinned and leaned down and kissed his ass. It felt warm and smooth on my lips. I gave him a little nibble-more nuzzling, perhaps.

"Hey," he squealed.

"Relax, J-man. "I won't take big bites. I promise." I stroked his butt again, savoring its firmness and warmth and smoothness. "J-man," I whispered, "Turn over. I helped him roll himself onto his back. "Slide up." I helped him wiggle back until all five feet-two of him was on the bed. Still with my three fingers embedded in his hole, I shifted so that I knelt between his spread legs. I scooted up, bringing my dripping cock closer to its target, his legs opening more to accommodate me. He lay beneath me, looking as vulnerable as a six year old. "Lift your legs." He understood exactly what was being asked of him; he folded his long, lithe legs, bringing his knees up near his shoulders. It had the effect of raising his butt in addition to spreading his cheeks. His hard boy-cock glistened with stretched skin, pulsing to the beat of his heart. Below, his marble-sized testicles were pulled tight to his body, and below his sac, his hole, stretched white and thin around my three fingers, lay bare to my hungry view. My heart, like his, pounded, ignited by passion and desire and raw sexual energy. I took this moment to apply more lube to my fingers.

Now I reached down with my unlubed hand and brushed across his ball sac. He drew in a slow breath. I pressed my fingers against his balls, feeling them under the knot of skin. As I watched, his muscled tummy tightened, and he lifted slightly, pressing himself against my hand. I adjusted my position, still massaging his balls, and slowly lowered my head until I was sure he could feel my hot breath on his tool. I glanced quickly up at his face-expectant and wanting. He watched as I licked my lips, and then I lowered my head until his glans, soft and hot, nudged my lips. A little whimper escaped from his mouth at that moment, and I began to suck him into me. He groaned, and lifted, and his uncut three-plus inches of boy meat sunk deeper into my hungry, wet mouth. As I sucked down harder, and my tongue swirled around his rigid tool, his arousal ratcheted up a few more notches. I was afraid he might come before I was ready.

I looked back up at his face and took this opportunity to press deeper into him with my three fingers-first the tip of one, then the second, then the third, all in quick succession. They rested just inside his pucker, which was now stretched tighter than at any point so far. He gasped, and I felt him clamp down on the intruders. He winced, his brow wrinkling with concentration. He grunted once and opened his eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. His penis pulsed in my mouth. He was working so hard. That light sheen on his skin-a hint of sweat-seemed to make him glow in the soft light.

I sucked him hard, taking all of his turgid rod into my mouth. How could something so hard feel so soft? If his throbbing three-plus inches tried to get any harder, it seemed as if it would rupture. I curled my tongue over his head, and he groaned. I felt his hands on my head, holding me there. With my free hand, I toyed with his acorn-sized testicles. I pressed deeper into him. He stiffened at the assault, and whimpered, and lifted. He was so tight. I stopped pressing in, instead rotating my fingers, almost literally reaming his small hole. I hoped my motions would cajole that part of him to relax, to open itself to me, to issue the invitation my turgid cock was waiting for.

I looked up. The boy bit on his lower lip. His face was drawn of color. I knew he was feeling that pins-and-needles burning sensation. I glanced down, and determined that I'd spread him about as much as my tool would require. I lifted up my body to expose my cock fully to his view. It pulsed, pointing straight at his face. A thin line of precum oozed from the slit and fell on his ball sac. "Jake, honey," I breathed. My voice trembled. I was in awe of this willing victim, and what I was about to do to him. And yet, it wasn't the pain that I knew I would inflict that drove me. No, it was the fact that he had chosen me: I was the one. In just moments, I would be the process of joining with him. It humbled me, for we would be joined in a way only the truly committed among us are capable of. He would take me into himself, he would envelope me with his heat, and I would become one with him, ultimately leaving my essence deep within him. He looked at me, and I could tell from his expression that he knew it was time.

"Make him slippery, Jake," I breathed. The boy - for that in fact was all that he truly was: a boy, a child - reached for the lube and confidently squeezed some out on his fingers. It was as if in that simple action, he could convey to me and to himself that he understood what he was committing to. And yet he was a child, vulnerable and innocent, thinking he understood, but truly not fully comprehending. He could not, after all, until we had completed this act which is reserved only for a very special few boys.

The gel was cool on my throbbing cock, but as his trembling hand grasped my manhood and applied the lubrication, it warmed under his touch. His eyes were almost unnaturally wide open as if he were entranced. "More," I said simply, and he lathered more on my tool. When he was done, I slowly withdrew my fingers. He shivered as if a cold breeze suddenly wafted across the bed. "Put some on my fingers," I commanded. He carefully daubed some of the clear gel onto my fingers, already moist and glistening from his insides. I reached in with just two fingers this time and applied more lube to his tight chute.

He breathed in short little breaths, and then he'd hold his breath for a while. At each moment as he'd begin to hold his breath, a tremor would course through his body.

I glanced back down. With his legs folded up like a praying mantis, his hole was naturally exposed, but now he pulled his fingers to open himself even more. Once more I drank in the vision of this boy-child, perfect in every way, his muscles taut, alert, waiting, needing. His little cock was like a little missile pointing to his chin, ready for launching. His balls were pulled up into his body so they were invisible. His sac was simply a shriveled outswelling of darker skin. His perineum, that tiny ridge of skin ran from his sac to his anus, leading me to the grail of boyhood. I trembled even as he trembled. I glanced up at his eyes. Slowly, he reached down with one hand and grasped my manhood and urged me forward, bending my tool toward his hole. I resisted the urge to help him. He seemed to need to do this himself. My head touched his anus. It pulled in on itself on contact, and Jake sucked in a short, sharp breath. It was so hot there. I took over now, replacing his hand with mine. "Will you let me have you now, Jacob Wallace?" I whispered.

His eyes widened even more. He nodded slightly and stiffened all over. His cocklet throbbed rapidly. I rubbed my tip up and down the shallow furrow and then slowly zeroed in, concentrating on his pucker. It was virtually closed again, but I hoped it retained a bit of "muscle memory" and with a bit of prodding, would open for me again.

"When you feel me push..."

"I know," the boy interrupted, "push back...like I'm pooping." He blushed, and truthfully, I think I probably did, too. It was advice I'd heard first right in this very bed some thirty years ago.

"Ready?" He nodded, seeming to have lost his voice at the very moment I began to press in. I didn't press hard, just a gentle pressure centered on his opening. I held it steady and felt his pucker close in on itself. He breathed out in what sounded like frustration. "J-man," I began, "we're going to take our time, remember? There's no hurry, we have all night. We'll do each...step when you're ready. Don't expect too much...just one step at a time. You'll do great." I looked into his eyes and saw all the doubt and worry a boy could muster. Talk about performance anxiety.

I waited. "Just breathe, and..." I grinned. "...relax. Try anyway." He seemed to lighten up a bit. I continued to swirl my glans over his pucker waiting for him to open even a little. Each time my head passed over his bud, I'd shiver with orgasmic energy. If I kept that up, I'd come before I ever got inside him.

Finally it seemed that his pucker gave a soft little spasm. With one hand, I grasped his hip. With the other I held my cock just behind the rim of the glans. "Pull your legs back more," I instructed. He did, the effect of which was to lift his ass even higher. I applied more pressure. It slipped in maybe half an inch.

He stiffened as if a spear had just impaled his bowels. His eyes fluttered wider suddenly. He seemed paralyzed. His tight little anus squeezed my head with a vengeance. It clearly didn't want me inside it, but it would not win this battle. I held Jake tightly against me. "He's in...just a little way...but in. Don't move, Jake. I don't want him to slip out. Are you okay?"

The boy nodded, but it was not particularly convincing. Then I could see him struggling to speak. "Do it, Cal," he squeaked.

I'd barely started, and he was hurting. I knew it was just the beginning. I held steady. After a moment, I felt him trying to push himself onto me. He winced, but the plucky child pressed on. I tightened my abs and pushed back at him. Together we forced his hole open enough to lodge most of my head inside his anus.

"Awwwrrrr." My little lover clenched his teeth and groaned. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He closed his eyes.

I patted his hiney gently. "Just a little more, and the worst will be over," I whispered. My head was swimming with tumbling emotions. The boy's anus clamped tightly in ratcheting spasms on my manhood, sending me nearly over the edge. In the muddle of my thoughts, I was vaguely aware of a noise. Suddenly I thought of his dad, and wondered if Andy had heard his son's groan of pain. Then I realized what the noise was, and I knew he had. The door was opening, but before I could turn, I felt a hand on my bare shoulder.

"Dad," Jake said with alarm.

I looked up at Andy, and he looked down at...us...at where we were joining. His brow wrinkled.

"Do..." The word caught in my throat. "Do you want us to stop?"

Jake's dad looked almost dazed. He seemed to consider that simple yes or no question for several seconds.

"No," he said finally, "no..." Then he sat down on the bed next to his son. "It's harder than you imagined, isn't it, J-man?" A tear welled up in the boy's eye. He nodded, looking for all the world like an uncertain six year old who'd been caught doing something naughty. "I was a lot older than you," he father said softly, "and it was still hard...but..." Andy leaned down and kissed his boy on the nose. "...if you can work past the pain, it's incredible." He smiled at the boy, and he smiled back. "I'm here for you, Jake." Andy slid onto the bed, slipping in behind his son. He lifted the boy's head, letting it rest in his lap. He stroked Jake's torso with his warm hands. "Let me help," Andy whispered, and took hold of the boy's folded legs. Jake moved his hands to his father's forearms and grasped him tightly.

"Cal's right," Andy said. "Just a little further. The rim of his head has to get past the rim of your anus. It's a 'snap and lock' sort of thing." Andy smiled down at his son. "That's the hardest part. You're doing great, son. I'm so proud. Take a breath, now." Jake did, and Andy nodded to me, then leaned in and kissed his son again-this time on the lips.

I leaned into the boy's asshole, splitting him like steak on a shish kabob. I heard him moan, though it was muffled by his father's kiss. I was home. Jake had taken all of my swollen head. Oh, ye GReek gods of love, how he squeezed my cock! Whether intentionally or by something beyond his control, a series of small tremors coming from deep inside him electrified me. I glanced up. Jake's fingers, white-knuckled, were digging into his father's arms. The boy's mouth was clenched; a large muscle bulged along his jaw line. I focused off the twelve-year-old for a moment. I worked to step away from the edge of orgasm. One more instant and I'd have shot. I wasn't ready for that and neither was Jake. I glanced up at him. His eyes were full of uncertainty. "Wha...what's wrong?" he mumbled. I didn't understand immediately. I looked back down. His little cocklet which had pulsed so proudly only moments ago, now lay wilted, shriveled, slumped lifeless onto his pubis.

"Jake," I said as lovingly as I could, "that happens sometimes. It's just that the...the pain deflects your arousal for a while, especially the first few times, 'til you get used to it."

"Honey," his father added, "you're orgasm is going to be from your anus this time. You don't really need an erection to get off. Plus...if you worry about it, it only makes it harder to get an erection."

"Harder," the boy squeaked, his weak attempt at a joke.

Andy reached down, took a corner of a sheet and patted the sweat off his son's forehead. "How does it feel, son?"

Jake frowned, and then swallowed a hard, dry swallow. "Like I'm on fire - thousands of little fires." His voice was husky and weak, the voice of a little boy about to lose it and cry. "Am I bleeding?" His words were full of worry.

I looked down and saw really for the first time. His pucker had disappeared. It was stretched to a thin membrane, bluish white. Some of the lube that had been on my head was scraped off and mounded evenly around my penis. I was glad his hole had received more than enough lube before we began. I shook, this time with guilt as I realized just how far this boy had yet to go. "No, Jakey," I finally answered, "there's no blood...It's just that you're stretched something awful." I looked from Andy to the boy. "I'll stop if you want."

Jake snuffed in a ragged breath. "No!" he demanded. "Keep doing it!"

I smiled at him, at his resolve, then at his father. Andy's face was filled with worry and with compassion.

"I'm going to wait, then...until I feel your muscles loosen down there." With the lightest of touches, I massaged gently around his violated hole. "Try, Jakey-boy," I whispered. "Try to relax down there. I know you can, honey.  Try."

I felt his muscles working to let go, but they were learning by trial and error, just as Jake was. It was all so new for him-trying to acquire control over muscles that normally functioned automatically. When they spasmed tighter, he winced, but after a time (Was it seconds or minutes?), I felt the pressure ease off my penis.

"Good boy," I breathed, firmly grasped his butt with each hand, and looked back into his eyes. "Ready?" He nodded. "It won't be so bad now," I said, and applied a bit of forward pressure. He stiffened and tiny tremors coursed through his body as I sunk deeper into him. Oh the perfection of this boy's ass. Nothing could have been designed to better fit a man. His tightness - the very same tightness that he felt as countless needle-pricks of fire, I felt as the most incredible sexual sensation of my life. I watched unblinking as I sank centimeter by centimeter deeper into him. It was a slow process. At many points along the way, he'd stiffen. At first I didn't understand, but then I realized I could feel the slightest resistance against my head. Immediately surrounding it was nothing but smooth, slick, heat. Beyond I could feel a...what...a "fullness". Slowly I realized, that resistance I was feeling - and he felt, too - was his organs. My big cock was actually moving them from their usual position. I would have to move very slowly to give his body time to adjust. We continued this way - pressing in...waiting - for about a minute and a half.

"Jake, is it okay?" I asked.

The boy nodded. "I can feel him...inside, I mean...not, you know, at my...um...anus...but deep inside me...it's like full. Is it all the way in?"

I smiled. "Almost." In truth, I was only about halfway. "Maybe we should try it just this far," I said. He looked at me with a confused look. I pulled back slowly.

A look of panic spread across his face. "No-o-o," he stammered. "Don't take him away."

I grinned. He was so naive, so innocent. I glanced up at Andy. His father spoke. "He's not, J-man, he's just going to try a few strokes...he's just going to try to fuck you."

A flush of color flowed into the boy's face. "It's...just...that when you pulled back...it felt so empty all of a sudden."

I nodded and slowly eased back into him. He shuddered and sighed. "It...doesn't...hurt as much," he said between sharp breaths.

"That's good," I breathed. His father reached down with one hand and began to tweak his nipples. He shuddered again. I stroked him again, pulling my head back until its rim engaged with his. Each time, he'd stiffen and shake with pain. Then I'd gently thrust back into him, trying hard not to go too deep. With every thrust, he'd grunt the way a tennis player did with each return.

Now I had a slow rhythm going, not really fucking, more like dipping and lifting, but still, his slippery, hot, tightness felt incredible, and judging from his body, it seemed he was beginning to sense more pleasure - or at least as much pleasure as pain.

"Put him in more," the boy gasped.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," he answered. So I did the only thing I could: I honored the boy's simple request. This time when I urged my hips back into him, I did so more slowly, but going deeper. A sound came from his throat that was a sort of groaning sigh-a sound of utter satisfaction. "Don't stop," he whispered more to himself it seemed than anyone else. "All the way." When I felt that dull resistance, he'd shift slightly. It made him wince, and I'd feel his insides move and the resistance left. And then I was landed, fully embedded, my hair crushed against his small, firm hiney. His legs were so spread that there wasn't even much of a valley between his two glorious boy globes.

"I'm all the way inside," I said softly.

"I...it...it's so full."

I smiled. I flexed my cock once. His eyes widened, a tremor shook his small body, and after a momentary delay, his ass muscles clamped down on my shaft. It was incredible. Unimaginable. Divine. I began to pull back. It was as if his entire rectum and sphincter were fighting to hold me there. I'd never felt such tightness from a lover. Hell, I'd never felt anything close. In that brief moment, my mind was filled with an image of Uncle Jake working so hard to pleasure me. Now I understood what I could never have understood as a child. The sensations I had shared with him were every bit a gift to him as his guidance and those same sensations were to me.

I pulled out my full length except for my glans, paused for an instant, and then pressed back in. He gasped, now, not in pain, but in surprise, in surprised satisfaction. I resumed my in and out movements. Little cries of lust tore from his throat. I glanced up at his father. Andy seemed more confident now, more certain that this was the right thing for his son. Still he held his son's legs, keeping him open, holding him as if for a sacrifice. Hell, that's exactly what it was.

"Harder," Jake breathed.

I increased my action. I'd been careful so far, simply trying to give the muscles in the boy's body time to ease, to loosen. Now I added another goal: I wanted to find his tiny prostate. I shifted my position slightly. Jake winced, telling me that despite the pleasure that he sensed was close by, he was still feeling at least spasms of pain if I wasn't careful. I pulled back, and I dragged my head across that secret part of him. He stiffened, lifted, pressing against his father's grip. A squeal tore from his mouth and his head snapped to the side. Then a little whimper escaped from him as I pulled back as far as I dared. Then in again, and again I hit the spot. Again, a tremor. "Faster," he mumbled, almost incoherently. I complied, and with each thrust, he'd whimper. His entire body was shaking, and then suddenly he lifted and stiffened - suddenly as rigid as steel. He gulped in a desperate breath, held it and his hips jerked - bucked - violently one...two...three...four times. A series of tiny shudders followed, aftershocks, impossible to count. And then slowly, his body began to ease from its exquisite torture. His ragged breaths began to slow. His mouth gaped open to take in more oxygen.

It was a massive orgasm. I was uncertain I'd ever seen such a thing, but then again, I remembered Uncle Jake and my own orgasms with him. I lay still and knew that it wasn't yet over. The boy seemed almost unconscious. I waited, my rigid member feeling cheated. After five minutes, or perhaps ten, I felt his sphincter spasm around my throbbing tool. It was an invitation, personally delivered. I slowly resumed my thrusting. It seemed to awaken the boy, and again, he seemed to come alive. Oh to be a boy again! He was as ready as ever. This time he even tried to respond to my thrusts, lifting, adding his own movement. Again I began the deep-dicking of his ass. He'd loosened considerably, but it was as hot as ever.

"Do that magic place inside me," he commanded. I smiled at his dad.

In just seconds, I'd found the spot - the magic place, as he'd come to call it. It set him on fire. All pain faded into the distance, replaced, or at least overwhelmed by a pleasure a boy could not imagine - not until he'd experienced it at least once, anyway. He was rapidly approaching another climax - at least it seemed so to me. All the signs were there. The body stiffening, the dry mouth, the panting, the rapid heartbeat. I was almost there as well. I felt my penis swell and throb at I drove it deep inside him, then back. I ached with tension. My muscles locked. His chute spasmed once more on my tool, and my hips - now on autopilot - bucked hard into him, jarring him backward against his father. I shuddered, and a massive bolt of cum shot from me deep in his bowels. Then again. And again. A half a dozen jerks, a half a dozen violent spurts. It was as if something were sucking it out of me, taking more when I had no more to give. His ass clamped down on me again, and there was one more jerking of my pelvis, and I deposited a last shot. And then as I struggled not to collapse on him, I felt him launch into his own orgasm. It wasn't perhaps as extreme as his first, but it seemed to go on forever. Slowly, our combined sighs of utter satisfaction filled the room. With the last bit of remaining strength, I looked up. Exhausted and drained, my boy had apparently slipped into a deep slumber, lost to the world. His body seemed totally spent, dry though his orgasms were. His little cock had never regained its erection, but there was fluid which had formed a tiny stream down over his scrotum. Urine had flowed from him, and I realized I must have pounded into his bladder at least once. I looked up at his father. He had adjusted himself to give him access to his throbbing penis and was now masturbating, almost wild with lust. He shot just then, spraying his seed over his son's body and even onto my chest. Neither of us spoke.


Sunlight poured through the window. Blocked in the early morning by a great poplar, the sun finally found its way around the tree, and its rays burst into the room. I squinted, vaguely aware of the brightness, though something else seemed to be demanding my attention. It was a building of energy centered in my groin. As I came more to consciousness, I felt a warmth, a tightness. I heard a grunting sound, and suddenly I was fully awake. A body fitted to mine from behind, a strong, smooth, warm adult male. It was Andy, my love, spooning his body to mine. In front, a smaller, more delicate body was conforming to mine. I trembled as I realized Andy's arm draped over my hip. His hand guided my cock to its new home. In my sleep, his son was trying to fill himself with me once again. "Hey," I said softly in the boy's ear. "You didn't expect me to sleep through this, did you?"

He giggled. "I couldn't help it...I...needed to feel you again. You seemed pretty out of it...I thought maybe..." I could see him blushing.

"How do you feel this morning?"


"I mean, down...there. Aren't you sore?"

"A little."

Andy drew my glans over his pucker. I shifted my position and glanced down. "Let's see." I rolled him away a bit and reached down and gently parted his cheeks. His anus was an angry purple-red. Dry yellowish stains streaked his legs and butt.

"Jake, sweetheart," I said, drawing in a breath. "I think we need to stop for a while. You look pretty sore. I think you ought to ease off for a few days - until it has a chance to heal.

"A few... But Cal, it was so awesome! I need it! Pleeeze...I gotta feel you inside me." Jake was laying it on a little thick, and he knew it, but he also knew what he wanted - only today, he was going to be disappointed. I hated denying him, but someone had to be the adult.

His father interrupted his building protest. "You know what I think...and you know what Uncle Jake told you. Right?"

I could see the boy deflate. He was reacting as any young boy would if told he had to deny himself a favorite pleasure.

"But we'll do it again, J-man. I promise."

I leaned down and planted a kiss on his butt. His anus spasmed a bit and he sucked in a breath. I think he knew - despite what his horny little brain was wanting - that it was too soon to try again.

I reached over him, rolled him back onto his back. His boyhood pulsed proudly erect. "Maybe there's something else we can do." I reached down and grasped his little stiffy. He giggled.

Martin never did understand what had happened to me. After the first time, I gave up trying to explain. Part of me thought I owed him an explanation, part of me simply said shake the dust off your feet and move on. I think it only really sunk in when he found himself saddled with the whole rental bill for the apartment we had shared for all those years.

Uncle Jake's business was indeed viable. With renewed energy, it flourished. And for me...well...I had come home. Almost every weekend, Andy and Jake came down to be with me. Sometimes, on school vacations, Jake would stay with me when his father had to return. The months sped by. What Andy thought would take a year to do with his business, actually only took eight months. By June, he and Jake had moved to Jefferson, and we had become what it seemed we were destined to be - a family, albeit a somewhat unconventional family, sharing our lives fully, giving of ourselves in a way few would understand. And yet, the three of us understood perfectly. We were whole in a way none of had been before we came together last fall.

Jake had begun to grow noticeably in the late winter and spring. In one warm morning in July, as he lay in our bed, I was privileged to witness his first wet orgasm. I could almost tell something different was about to happen, and I think he could, too. We'd gotten to know each other so well over these months that even a little difference in his response was noted by me and his father. I greedily lapped up his thin trickle of boy-spend, and then he assaulted my mouth to get a taste for himself. It brought a smile to my lips and to his father's when Jake told him in detail how his four and a half inch cock had spurted out its first ejaculation. We had a little celebration then, acknowledging his entrance into manhood. It was great fun, and yet, as I sat there, reveling in this beautiful man-child, I realized he was leaving that special time in a boy's life - a time when boyhood began to fade and manhood's awareness began to replace that incredible innocence of childhood.

And yet I knew this was the cycle of life. Andy knew it, too. And at one level anyway, so did Jake. And so, in a way I've come full cycle. I watch Jake grow into the beautiful man he's destined to become, and I think of Uncle Jake, and the great debt I owe him. I know Andy feels that way, and so does Jake. And yet I know in a year or two or three, it will to come to an end.

As it turns out, before another year had passed, Uncle Jake's legacy renewed its presence in our lives. By now Jake was fourteen, and a handsome young man. He was actually the one who answered the door when the bell rang. A man - probably in his early thirties was standing there. Next to him was a boy, perhaps ten years old. Both were visibly uncomfortable. "Ahmm...I'm sorry...I thought perhaps Jake Wallace might still live here."

"He does..." Jake replied. "I'm Jake Wallace." He smiled pleasantly. The man looked visibly confused.

"Jake is Mr. Wallace's great-nephew," I said, stepping to the door.

"Oh," the man said simply. He reddened slightly. "I...ah...knew him when I was younger. I'm Willy..." He reddened and chuckled uncomfortably. "I haven't called myself that in years. I'm William Sorensen. I guess actually being here's taken me back to another time."

"Yeah," I said. "It does that. Uncle Jake helped me...find out who I was."

William nodded, and we knew we both understood each other. "Oh," the man added, "and this is my...friend, Tommy."

"Hi, Tommy, nice to meet such a handsome guy." I stuck out my hand and took the little boy's hand in mine.

I smiled. "Would you like to come in?"

Tommy was happy to follow Jake down through the woods to the swimming hole. I had no doubt that before much more time passed, two naked boys would be having a grand time getting to know one another. "Here," I said to the boy's older friend, "sit down. I'd love to hear some of your memories of Uncle Jake. I hope he was as special to you, as he was to me."

"He was very special. In fact, I was hoping...well...Tommy could get to know Uncle Jake...the way I did, I mean.

The man shifted uneasily. Together we drank a few beers, and I heard once again, about a boy who came to understand the mysteries of life thanks to Uncle Jake.

As it turned out, Jake and Tommy had some stories to share as well...and...before our two guests departed, we'd made a date when they could return. The plan had two parts. First was for me to help William work through some questions. Then I was to get to know Tommy a little better and help prepare him for a wonderful relationship with William.

And so...Uncle Jake...take heart wherever you are. The cycle which you began all those years ago has come full circle...and starts again.