Tired from a day of exploration, the boys have fallen asleep next to a natural hot spring. They are in Potter's Field within a secluded glen. Michael wakes up first ...

Chapter Ten

I wake up with the sounds of birds singing and the warmth of a bright Autumn sun shining on my ... whoops ... naked body! I am a little disoriented until I remember falling asleep next to the pool in our secret glen. I feel so contented ... especially since I can feel Jeremy's naked body pressed against my backside ... heheheh! His head is snuggled in between my shoulder blades and I can feel his little 'sticky-out' part resting against my thigh. Giggling under my breath, I stretch my arm around my back and grab his boy cod with my thumb and fingers. This causes him to kind of wiggle around on my back and I hear him smacking his lips, waking up. It's his turn to giggle and I feel him growing in my hand.

Jer puts his mouth to my ear and whispers ...

"As much as I like this, cutey, my little brother is sleeping behind us right now."

"Oh," I respond, and reluctantly turn loose his cute, warm appendage. Then I carefully slide out from under him and turn to face my nap companions. Jeremy is lying on his belly and Scully has his face pressed into Jeremy's back. Scully is mouth breathing and drooling a little. He looks like a miniature Jeremy ... cute as a button. I take advantage of the Weasel still being asleep to lean down and press my lips against Jeremy's. God, he tastes sooo good. Well, I open my mouth a little bit and just barely start rubbing the tip of my tongue across Jeremy's lips. Holy mackerel ... you would think I was chumming the water for sharks. He sucks my tongue into his mouth so fast I can feel the back of it tugging on my eyeballs.

When I raise my head up, Jer is smiling at me and the sunlight glints off his brown irises like little jewels ... which they are to me. I just lean there on my elbow and quietly stroke his cheek and run my fingers through his hair. I swear I can hear him purr. I press my mouth against his ear and whisper ...

"I love you sooo much. You do know I love you, don't you?"

Then I hear a voice coming from behind Jer's shoulder blades saying ...

"I think we all do, Michael ... giggle ... I think we all do."

Scully raises his head, facing toward me, his eyes squinting in the sunlight and his face lit up with a big smile. He still has a little drool on his chin.

"Go ahead, Mikey," he adds, "I want to see you guys go kissy-licky-woo ... hee hee ... snort, snort!"

"Oh yeah, Skull" Jer says, pulling himself out from under his brother. He rolls onto his back and points to his still turgid boy part and says ...

"Kissy-licky-woo this, brother mine ... har, har, har!"

Scully turns bright red when he sees what Jeremy is pointing at. We are both laughing at him while Scully just shakes his head and grins. He says ...

"If I kissy-licky your willy-wacky then your boy-toy will get jealous and smacky-wacky my ass ... brother mine ... snort, snort."

"You're damn right I will." I can barely answer him, I'm laughing so hard. "That's my kissy-licky-woo-willy-wacky. Keep your leprous lips off of it!"

And we are all hee-hawing and snorting like crazy. Finally we sit up on our haunches, legs crossed, knees touching in a circle. Scully sighs, looking up into the trees. "I love this place" he says.

Jer and I just nod our heads. He's right: this is an idyllic spot. Jeremy says ...

"It kind of makes me think of what the Garden of Eden must have been like."

Scully giggles ands says ...

"I guess that would make you guys Adam and Steve, eh?"

"Yeah," Jeremy says, looking wistfully at his little brother. "I wish we could find you a Steve too, little bro."

This seems to have a profound effect on the Weasel and his eyes start to tear up; he looks down between his legs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Nah," he says, "after all, I've got you guys," and the last words sound kind of muffled and I can see some tears starting down his cheek. I scoot over next to him and wrap an arm around him, pulling his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah, Weasel, you'll always have us ... always." I tell him.

Jeremy doesn't say anything cuz I can see him struggling against his own water works. He just looks at Scully; he's blinking back his tears. Finally he scoots in between us, his knees pressing into our stomachs as he presses his forehead against ours. We shoulder hug in a circle, like a small football huddle. There is a lot of back-rubbing and sniffing going on ... some of the sniffs are coming from me. Allergies I guess.

A few minutes of this seems to have a calming effect on all of us. Jeremy gives Scully a kiss on the forehead and Scully manages a giggle and says ...

"Well, maybe you guys can sign me up in a lonely hearts club or something."

Jeremy raises his head and grins at him and replies with ...

"We could make some posters to hang in your school."

"Yeah, yeah" I respond, "they could say 'ten-year-old nerdy, geeky boy wants companion of the heart - preferably male' ... snort, snort."

Oh dear, Jeremy has this look on his face ... the one he gets just before he pulls a wild-ass scheme out of his hat for a monkey-trap; sort of like a magician pulling a monkey out of his ass. (Which would have to hurt, by the way.)

"Oh-oh," I tell Scully, "watch out. Your brother has put his brain in gear and the result might not be pretty."

"Up yours, Michael" Jeremy grins at me.

"Scully," he says, looking at his brother, "how many guys can you think of at your school that you really like?"

"I dunno, Jer" and he shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe a half-dozen or so." Then he looks down at the ground and quietly adds, "I just never seem to get up the nerve to talk to any of them is all."

"I know, Skull. You've always been shy," Jeremy adds. "However ... we are going to make it easy for you to approach them, little bro."

Scully looks over at me and says ...

"Is this the 'oh-oh' part you were warning me about, Mic?"

"Probably," I tell him, nodding my head and smirking.

"No, no ... it's not an 'oh-oh' thing Scully ... honest. All you're going to have to do is hand these guys a birthday party invitation. You don't even have to talk to them if you don't think you can."

"What birthday party, Jer?" Scully and I ask at the same time.

"Scully's birthday," he replies.

"Yeah right! My birthday is next summer. A little early for invitations, isn't it?"

"Uh-uh, Scull. You're mistaken! Your birthday is next weekend, bud!"

The Weasel and I just look at each other. I am sending him a telepathic message - "told you this was the 'oh-oh' part". Scully grins like he reads me loud and clear. He turns his head toward his brother.

"Ok, Jeremy, spit it out. What has that devious mind of yours come up with?"

Jer looks at both of us; his eyes are twinkling and full of the devil. He says ...

"None of these guys know when your birthday is. So we send them an invitation to a party that sounds so fascinating that they wouldn't turn it down for anything. Mic and I will figure out some kind of interaction to make it easy for you to talk to these guys and pal around with them at the party."

Scully's sitting ramrod-straight now, face all aglow and he says ...

"Neat-o, Jer. What's going to be so fascinating about my birthday party?"

"Uh ... I haven't figured that part out yet."

Scully and I look at one another again. He is starting to look crestfallen. I figure it's time for me to jump in ...

"That's a great idea, Jer ... Skull. The three of us can come up with some killer ideas! We can invent a party that ten-year-old boys would kill to get into."

I guess my enthusiasm is infectious cuz soon we are laughing and coming up with these oddball ideas.

"Masturbation party!" Jer says.

"Porno party!" from Scully.

"Drunken orgy!" I yell.

Eventually we settle down and start thinking in earnest.

"You know, we might need to discuss the potential problems first," I said.

"Like what?" Jer asks.

"Like your MOM! There is a good chance she knows when Scully's birthday is. I have it on good authority she was there during the delivery. She is cool and all but I don't think she would go along with this."

"You're right," Jer says, looking somewhat disheartened, "so I guess we don't tell her." Now he grins and says, "I guess we hold the party away from the house."

"We can't do it at my house." I announce, quite emphatically. "You guys know that! The Wicked Witch of the West lives at my house. She'll eat all the guests!"

Jer and Scully snicker over this. What a mental picture, Suzzane scarfing down a bunch of boys, tossing the leg bones in a corner! Then Scully kind of glances around and says ...

"How about right here, guys! We could have a picnic and go for a dip in the pool."

Jer and I look at each other, amazed ... out of the mouths of babes! High-fives are in order, low-fives and ... I drag Jeremy to his feet ... a belly-bump. Scully attempts the belly-bump but it is more like a belly to wiener bump!

"I guess you're more than a pretty face, Weasel," I tell him.

The little bugger kisses his bicep. Hmm ... I wonder where he learned that?

"Ok, ok" Jeremy says, "now what do we use for the draw ... the hook? What is going to make a ten-year-old lather at the bit to come to this party?"

"Well," Scully says, "it needs to be a promise of something adult-like, something we don't get to do cuz people say we're too little."

"Jeeze, Weasel," I say, "you can't advertise a sex or porno or drinking party or we'd get busted for sure!"

Scully looks at me like I'd just said the pledge of allegiance with my hand over my dick.

"No, Michael, it doesn't have to be something illegal, just too adult for the average fifth grader to hope to experience."

"Like what?" Jeremy asks.

"Well, I dunno, maybe drive a car, see an 'R' rated movie, something like that."

"Hmm ..." from Jeremy. "Let's go float in the pool for a while and get our brains in gear."

So we all wade into the pool and settle down into the warm water. We float and think ... float and think. I break everyone's concentration when I say ...

"Man, wouldn't this pool have been great when we finished up our paint-ball wars during the summer?"

"Hell, yeah" Jer says, "all that sticky, colored soap in those paint-balls would have melted right off in this pool. We had to walk home with that crap drying on our skin."

Then Jeremy swings toward me with a look that says I'd just uncovered the holy grail.

"Michael ... you're a genius!" he says.

I don't know what he's talking about but that doesn't stop me from blowing kisses to my imaginary audience and taking a bow. Scully is looking at his brother expectantly.

"What did he say, Jer?"

Jeremy swings toward his brother and says ...

"Scully ... we make the invitations look like a Government Draft notice and tell your guests to report to Potter's Field for induction into the Army! It will say that they will be issued paint-ball guns to fight the enemy and protect their families from an invasion ... or some shit like that."

"Cool!" Scully says.

"Lame!" I say.

They both pivot around and look at me with daggers in their eyes.

"I meant COOL ... guys. Of course I meant cool." Wheew.

"Michael," Scully says, looking me in the eye, "guys my age still love to play Army. And the more real we can make it the more exciting it will be. Think how much fun we had during the summer - hiding and shooting at each other with our paint-ball guns."

Yeah, the little munchkin has a point. It really is a lot of fun - sneaking up on someone and blasting them with a load of paint across their chest, or back, or balls ... snigger. The more I think about it the less lame it seems. Shoot ... this might actually work!

"But, guys," I ask, "where are we going to get enough guns for an army of fifth graders?"

"Well," Jeremy says, "Skull and I have two apiece. We have the cheapo guns we bought and the nice ones our Mom got us on our birthdays. And Michael, you have your and your Dad's guns. So that gives us six."

"Actually," I tell him, "my Dad replaced his original gun with a nicer one. So we have three guns at my house."

"See there," Scully says, "that gives us seven guns already. So with the three of us that means I can have four guests."

"And," Jeremy adds, "I know someone else into paintball that we can call tonight and maybe borrow his gun. That would let you invite five friends, Skull."

I look at the Weasel and say ...

"I guess your job is to pick out five guys you would like to be friends with, Weasel."

"No problem there," he says with a giant smile.

Jeremy turns to me and says ...

"You and I will be the Sergeants, Mic! We will each command a team of three of Skull's friends. Well, I will only have two of Skull's friends plus Scully. We will have a war like these guys have only seen in the movies."

Yeah ... high-fives once again. And then Scully giggles.

"Of course," he says, "the game will have to end with everyone skinny-dipping in this pool to get the colored soap off!" And he grins an evil grin.

"But of course," Jeremy says, matching him grin for grin. "We can cook hotdogs on the firepit and say that no one's allowed to eat until they've scrubbed up ... snicker."

"What about if we fought the war in the nude, so no one gets their clothes all painted," I suggest.

That earns me a couple of lascivious grins from my buds but then they both nix the idea.

"You know how those things can sting, Michael, when they hit you in your bare arm." Jeremy says. "Imagine what they would feel like across your bare ass!"

"Well, I could handle it" I tell him, "if you would sneak up and kiss it all better ... snicker."

"Oh yeah" he says, "wouldn't that look good ... you with paint on your ass and me with paint on my lips ... we would be the talk of the troops, alright!" And we all bust up laughing.

Jeremy and I both look over at Scully and see the twinkle in his eyes and his happy, contented expression. Even if this thing doesn't work out quite as we plan, it will be well worth it for the joy we can see in Scully's face right now.

"Guys, I've been thinking." Scully says. "Does this really need to be my birthday? Couldn't it just be a party? That way no one needs to bring a gift or anything. I can tell everyone it's just for the fun of having a war."

Yep, that's our Scully, smart to the bone. We all give a high-five and climb out of the pool.

"Come on, men" Jeremy says, "I'm anxious to get home and brainstorm on those invitations."

"I'll run back to the picnic area and grab that big towel so we can dry off," Scully says, as he takes off at a trot. I use his absence as an excuse to lay a major lip-lock on his big brother. Whoops ... maybe that wasn't such a good idea! Next thing I know our hands are exploring and our little soldiers are standing at rigid attention. And they aren't thinking about paint-ball wars, either!

"At ease, men," Scully says, as he wanders up, towel in hand and a grin on his face. "And you 'little' men can be at ease too ... snort, snort. Would you guys like me to make myself scarce for awhile?" he asks us.

Jeremy looks at him and nods his head.

"Mmm ... maybe you could go explore the woods for about 20 minutes," he tells his brother.

Scully just nods his head, smiles, towels himself off quickly and then scoops up his clothes. He yells over his shoulder as he walks away ...

"I'll be at the picnic spot when you guys have finished with your orgasmic discussion ... giggle, snort."

As we watch Scully disappear, Jer turns his head to me, smirks, and we drop to the ground in an instant tangle of arms and legs. Oh yeah ... this beats internet porn all to hell! Whoops ... careful where you're poking me with that thing, bud ... snort, snort!

I reach down and grab Jer's inviting boy piece. Gosh, he's so hard I could use it as a pry bar. Actually, I intend to: I'm going to pry my tonsils with it ... snigger! Not to be outdone, Jeremy reaches down for my boy accessory and then makes a little purring sound deep in his throat. (I kinda think he likes my dick!)

We are just lying there, on our sides, face to face, with smiles that communicate reams of messages to one another. We are just two happy lads groping and stroking, giggling and smiling. Then Jer leans into me and gives me one of his killer kisses. If his kisses were as fattening as they taste, I would be one roly-poly boy by now.

Jeremy pushes me onto my back and detaches from my lips, only to reattach at my neck. His tongue is doing this swirly thing now and I've just doubled the amount of my skin area with all the goose bumps that have popped up. His lips and tongue make a wet trail down to my right nipple, which causes it to stand up like a miniature erection. And, noisy me, I can't help but groan loudly and then do a bit of squirming.

Jer can tell I'm not long for this world and so he quickly kisses his way south, to my belly button. A couple of swirls with his tongue in there and I'm making noises that cause the birds to go silent and pay attention. Mother Nature is getting one hell of a peep show!

Jer hasn't been stroking me during any of this, just gently holding, and occasionally squeezing, my rigid pole. Now he gently slips his mouth over my boyhood and, like a calf at its Momma's udder, begins to milk me for all he is worth. His quest for a drink isn't unproductive either; I soon yield up the four or five drops I am capable of producing. Of course this is in conjunction with a great deal of spasming on my part and a vocalization that has the birds erupting from the trees, off in search of a quieter place to preen themselves.

As my spasms die down, Jer kisses his way back up my torso until he is resting on his elbows and staring - smirking actually - into my face. He has an expression that says he knows that he owns me ... body and soul. All I can do is grin back at him, smiling my concurrence. Yep ... I am his boy-toy for sure!

I give a rumble deep in my throat, grab him by the shoulders and swing him around onto his back. Jer is giggling. He loves it when I play Tarzan.

"Think you're hot shit, don'tcha?" I ask him.

"Yep" he answers, still giggling.

"Well," I answer, "prepare to pay for your insolence, young man!" A giggled "OK" is his response.

Now, if you think I am quick on the trigger, Jeremy could match up against any fast-draw artist of the old west. So I don't even attempt any of the nipple foreplay that Jer uses in order to drive me nuts. I would barely get a tit in my mouth before my boy would be splugging me with his miasma. So, I go right for the heart of the matter and plunge down on his turgid tool in short order. Jer's dick is similar to mine in that we are both circumcised, but my boy has a good inch over my length. And I might add that it is a good, good, delicious inch at that! He is long enough that he can set up that gag reflex when my lips meet his poor, shaved pubes. I sound sort of like a cat hacking up a fur-ball! But it's a happy cat.

Three or four 'hacks' on my part and Jeremy is howling like the wolf man under a full moon. Birds are probably dropping from the trees in dead fright! And Scully is likely running around in circles back at the camp ... looking for a weapon!

A couple more pulls at Momma's teat and my tonsils are being pressure washed and Jer's howls go up at least two more octaves. (I can picture Scully pitching over in a dead faint right about now ... knowing he is about to be attacked and eaten!) Jer's body continues to shudder and twitch for awhile after his explosion. Yep, this boy puts my miserly drops of boy juice to total shame.

I crawl up his torso and, leaning on my elbows, stare him in the face, waiting for him to come back to earth. When he is with me again I give him this smirk that says 'I know I own you ... body and soul.' Jeremy just grins and says, "smart ass!"

It is a somewhat tired, but happy Jeremy and I, that walk over to the picnic spot ten minutes after Scull left us. Ten minutes ... only ten minutes, you may ask? Hell, yeah, and that was counting time for a quick dip in the pool afterwards to wash away evidence ... hehehe. What can I say, at thirteen we don't have a whole lot of staying power ... just a tremendous amount of cumming power ... snort, snort.

Scully greets us with, "I'm going to buy you guys something for your erotic interludes."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Jer asks.

"A roll of duct tape for your mouths," the Weasel retorts. "If you keep having sex at our house the neighbors are going to call the cops!"

We just answer with a silent blush.

It takes us about a half an hour to walk to the Wists'. As we walk in the back door Jeremy says...

"You guys head on up to my room and I'll make a call about that extra paint-ball gun."

"Are you calling Tyson?" I ask him. That's the only kid I know of in our small circle of friends that is into the game. He plays at a paint-ball club, though, and has never played the game with us. Michael, Scully, myself and my Dad usually play war together in Potter's Field. Dad is away on business trips a lot, though, so he doesn't play with us very often.

"Yep," he responds, "remember he told us at one of our chess matches once that he belongs to some paint-ball club? We ought to find out about that and see if we can join up too. There are probably enough people in that club to have some real battles."

Scull asks ... "Is that the same guy that caught you making the shampoo switch, Jeremy?"

"Yep. Tyson Samuels. We'll have to invite him to play with us when your Dad is out of town, Mic. That will give us four people so that we can still have teams."

I nod my head. Tyson is a good guy. That's why Jeremy and I went to bat for him and paid Sammy back for being such a butt-head to him.

"He'll probably say OK about borrowing his gun. Come on, Scull, let's go boot up the computer and start working on your invitations."

We run upstairs while Jeremy heads for the phone. The Weasel boots his brother's computer up. Jeremy has a greeting card program that makes some very professional looking cards. We spend a little while figuring out a format for the card: it needs to look like a Government document. We haven't gotten very far when Jer walks into the room. I look up at him and ask ...

"What did he say, Jer?"

"No problem, guys. He actually has three guns we can use but there is kind of a hitch."

Both Scully's and my face light up when he says Ty has three guns we can use and then our faces drop when he says there is a hitch.

"What kind of a hitch?" I ask him.

"Well, one of the guns belongs to his little brother. If we want to use it, we have to invite his brother to our war."

Then Jeremy turns to his brother and says...

"Ty says you should know his brother, Skull. He says he goes to your school. His name is Kyle Samuels."

Scully's face lights up and he practically shouts ...

"Kyle Samuels wants to join in? Neat-o. Oh man, this is great."

I smile at the Weasel and ask him ...

"Sounds like you know this kid, eh, Weasel?"

"Heck, yeah. He is just about the most popular kid in my grade! He is into all kinds of sports and stuff and guys are always hanging around him."

Then his expression seems to do this 180 degree change into a frown.

"Thing is, though," he continues, "he isn't the kind of guy who would want anything to do with me. I'm not into sports at all and probably don't have anything in common with him. And he's tall, too. He's almost as tall as you guys."

Being called tall isn't something Jer and I hear very often, but to a ten-year-old I guess we are.

"It's up to you, Skull," Jeremy tells him. "But I heard him asking his little brother if we could use his gun. Then when his brother asked why and Ty told him I could hear the kid get all whiney ... said he wanted to be invited."

"Ty will probably let us borrow his two guns anyway, Scully, but you may just make yourself an enemy at school if you don't invite the guy now."

"Wow," Scully says. "I can't believe Kyle Samuels actually wants to do something with me. We've never even talked or anything. He usually smiles at me, though, and a couple of times he's said 'Hi'."

"So, what did you say back to him, bud?" I ask.

The Weasel gets this kind of embarrassed look and replies ...

"Well, I'd just kind of nod my head back to him and ... and hmm ... well, I guess I kinda run away!"

"Har, har, har" both Jer and I laugh.

"Yep," Jer responds, "that's my Scully. Mr. Shy boy in action ... har, har, har!"

Poor Weasel, his face is the color of a stop sign. But he's sort of grinning and chuckling.

"Well, I guess this is going to force me to say something to the guy now, even if it's just 'die, dog' as I shoot him in the chest ... chortle."

I had faith in Mic and Jer from the beginning, didn't you? Sounds like they have the perfect plan to attract a bunch of ten-year-olds. Now if they can keep anyone from getting killed or anyone's parents from coming unglued.

Drop me a line and say hello. I am callmepaul@postmaster.co.uk . I'll send you a picture of me in the shower!

Copyright 2007. All rights retained. No duplication without author's permission. No posting on another web-site without approval. No skateboarding in the elevator. No smoking in the dynamite shed.