One Tender Dance
by Kelvin Guard

	Peter sighed as he forced himself up the stairs, athletic bag over his
shoulder but weighed down more by the weight of his sorrows than the
scant contents of the bag.  His secret had been uncovered:  all the kids in
the eighth grade knew that he was taking ballet lessons.  Life would never
be the same.  Already they would look at him differently, already his
friends were distancing themselves;  they all knew that any boy who took
ballet lessons had to be a fairy or something.  The possibility alone was
enough to make them abandon the fourteen year old boy they'd grown up
with.
	The situation was made worse for Peter because he had the sad
feeling that they were right.  How many times had he watched them all, all
his young teenaged friends in the showers after gym class.  How many
times had he ached gazing at the softness of their slender, boyish bodies,
the small pubic hairs that were growing on almost all of them, the
unchallenged beauty of their penises as they grew.  It had been too much
for him for so long.  Every day he left gym class ready to cry in love for
them, imagining them, wondering what they would feel like, wondering if
any of them felt the burning desire between their legs as he felt it.  
	He got some relief from his passions by taking ballet.  There he
could dance and twirl with nothing but girls around, no beautiful boys to
make him ache with longing.  The rest of his relief he got by masturbating. 
He had grown so attached to the pleasure of orgasm that he played with
himself at least once a day, sometimes more often than that.  He didn't
want to, but he couldn't help himself.  At night he would crawl under the
covers wearing only his underwear.  Within minutes the cool feel of the
sheets against his hard body seemed to excite him and his six inch cock
would grow stiff and frantic.  He could not fight it.  He would stare at it
through his shorts, the thick mound throbbing with incessant desires, his
testicles bulging beneath them.  His blue eyes would glisten as he unveiled
his young manhood, saw the small bush of boyish pubic hair around its
base.  Longing for understanding, he would pull his foreskin back and
unveil his brown penis head, already shining with the pressure of his
erection.  Then he would rub it, his small, rock hard chest gasping to hold
in his desire to moan, his hard muscles tightening all along his slender
body, his cock feeling bigger and bigger until it exploded sending warm,
milky young sperm squirting into his face and across his little nipples.
	On this particular day, he moped his way into the boys' locker room
and tossed his bag on the bench.  Since so few boys took ballet, the locker
room was small and there were only lockers for a half dozen boys, all
lined up side by side.  Peter twirled the combination to his lock and
wished that another boy was with him.
	The wall to one side of him was one, large mirror and Peter looked
at his reflection as he peeled his t-shirt up his firm abdomen and over his
blond hair.  He thought he was cute and liked looking at himself in the
mirror, still his smooth skin and angular face did have a feminine
appearance about it, his baby blue eyes and slender, dark eyebrows doing
nothing to help the situation.  He liked the way he looked and wouldn't
think to change it if it weren't for the fact that he now wished he looked
more masculine and less like the graceful boy that he was.  He swallowed
nervously as he glanced down his smooth, hard body.  His abdomen, though
firm and flat with muscle, still revealed the slender outline of his rib
cage before swelling out into the two, hard mounds of his boyish chest. 
His nipples were small, inevitably erect, and colored a dark brown against
his otherwise pale skin.  His shoulders rippled over his quadriceps,
swelled in small, hard bulges at his biceps, then tapered into slender,
hairless forearms.  The hands at the end looked overly large for his thin
arms, but strong and lined with bulging veins of boyish strength.
	Feeling nervous, but enraptured by his own beauty, Peter's large hand
gently rubbed across his belly and slowly up to cup the firm mound of his
chest.  His skin was so smooth and he liked the feel of his little nipple.  He
sat there dreaming of the boys in his gym class, not as hard and muscular
as he was, but their slender bodies so soft and pretty looking.  He
swallowed again as he let his large hand slip beneath his arm, feeling
across the smooth, hairless skin, wondering how long it would be before
he got underarm hair like the older boys had.
	He sniffed and leaned over to untie his white, high top tennis shoes,
turning to continue watching himself in the mirror, the gentle ripples of
his shoulders, the soft skin across his gently rippling shoulder blades.  His
shoulders had begun to broaden into a young adolescent's but still looked
soft and boyish despite his muscles.  Farther down, his boyish side looked
incredibly soft and slender.
	He tossed his shoes aside.  Though he was still only five and a half
feet tall, he wore size eleven shoes and his feet looked very large for his
body.  He wasn't thinking about that, however, as he stood up and faced the
mirror, his hands moving to the snap to his blue jeans.  It excited him to
watch himself stripping and he tilted his head seductively to the side as
his large hands, veins bulging, popped the snap to his jeans and slowly
pulled his zipper down.  He loved the feel of his penis as it began to
stiffen in his underwear and began thinking about masturbating before
going out to join the girls.  His penis swelled into the opening of his fly
and felt so good.  He smiled bashfully to himself, realizing that he had to
have an orgasm.  
	Still seducing himself, he slowly worked his jeans down over his
hips and round buttocks, seeing the swollen front of his underpants
pushing their way through.  His mouth opened slightly and his chest
swelled more with his breathing as his excitement grew.  Slowly he slid
his pants down his thin, baby soft thighs, watching the smooth, hairless
skin appearing and swallowing as he gazed at his penis growing stiffer in
his underpants.  Once his knees were bared, he dropped his jeans and let
them fall to the floor.  Feeling dizzy with pubescent hormones, he pulled
his large feet from the cloth, his long legs emerging smooth and bare.  His
slender calves were lightly covered with soft, downy silver hairs, his legs
so long and graceful that his knees didn't appear knobby and his thighs,
though rippling gently as his legs moved, were as slender and smooth as a
woman's.
	He stood there gazing at his reflection, panting softly, his big feet
shoulder length apart, his cock now poking out at his underpants in a
boyish erection.  The bulge looked long and thick, his testicles forming
perfect, oval mounds of their own.  He was so horny that he couldn't delay
baring his erection, feeling eager to be rubbing it, to feel the pleasure
growing between his beautiful legs.  His chest and abdomen flexed with
hard muscle as his large hands slipped down the elastic to his underwear
and his blue eyes looked down to watch as they pulled the cloth down, his
uncircumcised erection poking up along his slender, hairless belly,
starting to throb rhythmically up and down against his small belly button,
the brown head half visible through his retreating foreskin.  It continued
to throb as the fourteen year old knelt down and pushed his underwear
down his long, smooth legs, pulling his big feet from them and standing up
naked and rock hard.
	Being naked with his erection made him feel even more nervous and
afraid that someone, for some God unknown reason, would walk in and
catch him at his pubescent chore.  Still, he stood there for a moment and
admired his naked beauty.  His six inch penis, swollen so big and thick on
his small, muscular body, commanded all of the boy's attention.  He was so
in love with it, so in love with the pleasure he knew it would soon bring to
his pubescent youth.  His testicles were already pulled in tightly to his
body, held in his hairless scrotum, carrying the precious cargo the boy was
so eager to feel squirting from his body.  Gently, his large hand felt up his
slender thigh and his long fingers tenderly caressed his young balls.  His
cock, still the pale color of a young boy, looked so hard, so beautiful with
the long, sparse, black hairs that curled around its thick base.  There was
no way he could deny himself the pleasure of his puberty, but he was still
nervous.  This wasn't his bedroom, after all:  he was about to masturbate
in a boys' locker room.  He couldn't lock the door.  He couldn't hide beneath
the covers.  Anyone who walked in would see him with his big cock
sticking out like it was.  The thought excited him but also scared him.
	He couldn't masturbate being that exposed, so he compromised.  Still
panting excitedly, he grabbed his jock strap from his bag, almost
stumbling as he stuck his feet through the straps and pulled it up his long,
smooth legs.  He pulled it all the way up, the straps moving into their
proper position over his soft, round buttocks, but he kept the pouch for his
penis pulled down and stared at it throbbing in the mirror.  One of his
large hands held the jock strap open as the other moved to his hard cock.
	The fourteen year old boy repressed a moan of instant pleasure as he
felt his fist taking hold of his thick erection.  It felt so good.  It was going
to feel so much better.  He looked down at his sparse pubic hairs and
throbbing cock, felt his thighs ripple involuntarily as his large hand
slowly pulled his foreskin back, watched his brown penis head poke out of
the fleshy skin.  It shined so brightly, the little slit gaping open, as eager
as he was to squirt sperm.  The veins in his fist bulged a bright blue as the
boy squeezed his cock and slowly began to rub it up and down.  He clenched
his teeth, his breath hissing softly as he fought to contain the sheer
pleasure that erupted between his legs.  He wasn't having an orgasm yet
but already his penis felt like the most beautiful thing in the world.
	Suddenly, he heard the door behind him opening and he jerked his
jock strap up so quickly that no one could possibly have had time to see. 
His face instantly glowing bright red, he quickly tucked his throbbing
erection into the pouch and sat down without even looking to see who had
entered.  Trembling with terror and frustrated desire, he grabbed for his
dancing outfit, finally allowing himself to look into the mirror and see
who had entered.
	He was so frightened that he'd been caught doing that wicked thing
to his penis that for a moment the only thing that registered to him was
that it didn't look like the new boy had noticed what he was doing.
	"Hi," the boy blushed and said softly.  His voice was still high
pitched but was beginning to roughen with puberty like a younger boy.  He
was a little over five feet tall and looked small and skinny in his coat
sweatshirt and blue jeans.
	"Who are you?" Peter asked, trying to make his cracking voice sound
steady and undisturbed.
	"Louis," the boy said.  He was carrying an athletic bag like Peter's
and stood holding it with both hands, looking shy and hesitant.  "Mr. Gordon
told me to come in here to change."
	"Are you in the class?" Peter asked, holding his dancing clothes over
his still visible erection.  It was softening, however, and the scared boy
had lost all thought of pleasure.
	The brown haired boy nodded and took a step farther into the room. 
"I just moved here from Colorado."
	Peter sat there, still embarrassed about his activity but now feeling
embarrassed by his half naked body.  He felt suddenly like he always did in
the showers after gym class:  nervous and embarrassed, but oddly excited
too.  He was slowly realizing that his greatest wish was coming true: 
another boy had joined the dance class.  He wasn't alone anymore.  "Well,
you can take your pick of lockers.  Mine's the only one taken."
	Louis managed a brief smile and blush and went to the locker at the
opposite end from Peter's.  Hoping his erection had softened sufficiently,
Peter flicked his white dancing outfit open and started slipping his feet
down into the legs.  As he pulled it on, he stole glances at Louis as the
younger boy opened the locker he'd selected and pulled his coat off.  He
was wearing a baby blue sweatshirt and Peter could tell how small and
skinny his body was.  He unzipped his jock bag before stripping any
further, a classic delaying tactic by young boys unaccustomed to stripping
in front of other boys.  After that, he put his lock on the door and finally
reached for his sweatshirt.  Peter couldn't help but stare as the boy's
slender abdomen slowly appeared through the bottom hem.  The skin that
emerged was so soft and smooth looking that Peter immediately felt his
heart beating quicker.  He stared at the boy's little belly button and the
soft, slender body that surrounded it.  His skin was more darkly
complected than Peter's making him look tanned and smooth.  As his
sweatshirt slid up his thin chest and started to clear his face, Peter
looked away, panting and already plotting how to see more of the boy
without him noticing.
	Peter stood up just enough to pull his dance suit up over his hips
then sat back down again.  When he looked at Louis again, the boy was
sitting on the bench and untying his shoes:  white high tops like Peter's
and almost any other boy their age.  Peter could see how the boy's chest
swelled beneath two tiny, dark brown nipples:  the mounds hard like his,
but smaller and more boyish.  Louis's rib cage was also more prominent
beneath his soft, brown skin and his arms were thin and didn't bulge at his
biceps.  He was so slender, his body so soft and hairless.
	"My name's Peter," Peter finally thought to introduce himself as he
pulled the straps of his outfit up over his hard, broadening shoulders.
	"Hi," Louis said, his blushing face smiling up briefly sending a fresh
wave of desire rushing through Peter.  He had not realized how cute the
younger boy was, how soft and smooth his brown face was beneath his
silky looking brown hair.  To make him even cuter, his eyes were bright,
baby blue, contrasting so beautifully with his dark skin that Peter gasped
to himself.  "Are we the only boys in class?" Louis's squeaky voice asked.
	"Yeah," Peter's voice cracked.  He felt oddly warm but also queasy
inside as he leaned over to pull on his dance shoes.  "Have you taken  dance
class before?" he asked, still stealing furtive glances at the young boy's
soft side and hairless arms.
	"Yeah," Louis said, his voice so soft and bashful.  "I was the only boy
in it."
	Peter nodded.  He had his dance shoes on and Louis had finished
kicking off his tennis shoes.  He tried to move slowly as he packed his
clothes into his locker, hoping to watch Louis take his pants off, but the
younger boy was delaying too, awkwardly moving things from his bag to
his locker and laying his own dance suit out.  By the time Peter had closed
his lock and twisted it several times, Louis still hadn't taken his pants off
and the pubescent boy knew he couldn't delay any longer without arousing
suspicion.
	"Well, I'll see you outside," he said.
	"Yeah," Louis smiled briefly, looking away as Peter passed him. 
Peter's eyes immediately turned to stare at the boy's thin shoulders and
boyish back.  He looked so slender, his shoulders still thin and boyish, the
sharp shoulder blades only slightly softened with small ripples of muscle. 
Peter gazed down the ridges along the cute boy's spine until if blended
into the baby soft skin of his lower back.  Just below, he found himself
gazing at the boy's small butt before swallowing and leaving the boy to
change in privacy.
	A dozen of the girls were already on the practice floor, stretching
out in their leotards.  Three of them motioned for Peter to come stretch
out with them, but he ignored all of them.  The girls were always trying to
talk to him and be his friend and he kept avoiding them.  He knew they all
wanted to be his girlfriend and yet he wasn't interested in them in the
slightest.  If they just wanted to be his friend, that would be one thing,
but they wanted more and he knew it.  Besides all that, all he could think
about was the new boy in the class, and how incredibly beautiful he was.
	Instead of joining the girls, Peter went to a mirrored wall alone and
started to stretch out against the bar.  He liked wearing his dance outfit
because he liked the look of his body in it.  It was so tight that it was like
wearing nothing at all.  Every bulge of his muscles shown through clearly;
even the gentle ripples along his slender thighs were evident when he
moved.  Even though it embarrassed him a little, Peter even liked the
prominent bulge between his legs, liked how big it made his penis look. 
Frequently when he danced, he felt himself pressing his cock even farther
out at the fabric, liking it even when the girls took noticeable interest in
his prime, pubescent physique.  Although many boys became long, gangly
and awkward in puberty, Peter's body was so well conditioned for so long,
that his body never lost the graceful beauty of youth.  It was true his
hands and feet looked too big for his body, but his long legs just looked
longer, their smooth perfection an envy of more than one girl in the class.
	The dancing outfit was one piece, like a pair of leotards with a tank
top attached, leaving his long, beautiful arms exposed, showing the
softness of his hard, hairless chest, clinging so tightly that his small
nipples were visible against the smooth fabric.  He felt so beautiful in the
outfit that he sometimes slept in it, caressing his body through it until he
was so horny he could cry, then slowly stripping the straps down his arms,
baring his chest, slowly unveiling his bulge in his jock strap, then finally
pulling them down and masturbating his erection to its ultimate pleasure. 
When he wore it in public, he paraded his body for everyone to see and
admire.  He knew how beautiful he was, and loved feeling the loving eyes
of others on him.  He walked gracefully, fully displaying the long beauty of
his legs and arms, his sweet, beautiful eyes staring out from his angelic
face, innocent but aching, a look that he knew was beautiful because it
was so beautiful on other boys.
	Despite all his conscious grace, however, Peter felt immediately
awkward when Louis came onto the practice floor.  The shy, unassuming
boy appeared scarcely looking at anyone, blushing like a cherub, his cute
face and bright blue eyes so adorable that Peter suddenly felt plain and
average.  He was so jealous of the younger boy that he wanted to run away,
to go home and stay away from dance class forever.  He was even jealous
of the curious, flirtatious gazes the girls gave the new boy, pointing and
shrugging shoulders, blushing and smiling in girlish ways.
	Louis managed to look around enough to find Peter and he moved
toward that section as if oblivious to where he went.  He wasn't near as
graceful as Peter was.  In fact, he seemed to stutter with every step,
hesitant, uncertain, as if he wasn't sure his legs belonged to him.  All of
his bashfulness, however, only made Peter love him more and feel more
jealous of him, and what the smaller boy lacked in grace he more than
made up for in sheer pubescent beauty;  not beauty like Peter's, but a
different sort of beauty altogether.  
	For one thing, his legs weren't as long as Peter's were and his knees
were a little knobby in the tight, white cotton that covered them.  They
did swell ever so slightly along his thighs with slender muscles that
rippled as he moved, and they looked unbelievably smooth in the cotton,
but they weren't graceful.  The boy's upper body was pretty, but it lacked
Peter's muscular development.  His abdomen was very thin and he didn't
get much wider as he went higher.  His ribs were visible through the
outfit, as were his tiny little nipples, and his small chest did bulge in
pretty, small mounds.  The exposed portion of his chest was very soft and
brown looking, and his small collarbones were prominent beneath his
slender neck.  As Peter had noticed in the locker room, his arms were
slender and unremarkable save for their soft, hairless perfection, and his
hands looked as large on his small body as Peter's did on his.
	What really tugged at Peter's heart was the appearance of Louis's
penis, because, like Peter, the boy's outfit made his penis look very large
in the mound of his jock strap.  Since his body was smaller, Louis's penis
mound looked even more disproportionately large.  It was as if this small,
soft boy was carrying a grapefruit around between his legs.  Peter was so
jealous he could have cried.
	Louis came to within ten feet of Peter and began to stretch out
himself, not acknowledging the other boy or looking at anyone else.  Peter
kept stretching as he watched the other boy's body move, watched the
slender arms stretch, watched his small, round shoulders, caught glimpses
of the impossibly smooth, hairless skin on the boy's underarms.  His brown
hair fell about his ears and eyes as he bent over and swung from side to
side and his shoulder blades rippled in little boyish muscles above the low
cut of his outfit.  Peter even made out the bulges of the boy's jock strap
where the straps stretched across his little butt.  The cotton was thick
enough to hide the whiteness of the jock strap against the brownness of
the boy's skin, but that didn't stop Peter from imagining.  It took the older
boy very little time to be utterly confused by the feelings in his heart: 
was he jealous or was he in love?  He didn't know but he knew how badly
he wanted to see Louis naked.  It didn't take him long to start wishing that
dance class was over and his mind filled with fantasies about showering
with the beautiful angel.
	Neither boy spoke to the other as they stretched their young bodies
out, but their eyes met from time to time and they smiled at each other. 
Peter wondered if the boy was thinking the same thing he was but dare not
hope for so much.  When Louis lifted his leg on the bar and started bending
forward on it, it was all the older boy could do to keep from grabbing the
big mound that bulged between his slender thighs.
	Finally, Mr. Gordon came out and called all the students together. 
Peter and Louis automatically segregated themselves from the girls and
stood side by side.  Peter noticed all the girls looking at Louis the way
they had always looked at him and his face blushed with jealousy.  Maybe
he had been too aloof with the girls.  What if they started flirting with
Louis?  What if the younger boy liked them?  What if they took him to bed
with them and let him make love to them with his precious penis?  Peter
was so jealous he couldn't think straight.
	Mr. Gordon introduced Louis who blushed and smiled bashfully.  He
was so cute.  Peter wanted to cry.  It was then that he discovered that
Louis was thirteen years old and had been dancing for seven years.  That
meant that, not only was he cuter than Peter but he also had been dancing
longer.  He might even be better than Peter.  That would have been too
much.  Not that Peter felt angry at Louis.  He was just so painfully jealous.
	When they started actually dancing, Peter became even more jealous
of the attention shown to the other boy by the girls.  To make matters
worse, he also became jealous of the girls who got to touch Louis so often. 
They were so attracted to the cute boy that they even touched him when
they didn't have to, and Peter could tell that they were all trying to get
his attention, all trying to strut their feminine bodies to him.  Half of
them were older than even Peter, but they got to dance with so few boys
(for the past three years, Peter had been the only boy in class) that they
scarcely were concerned with his tender age.  Oh, they still danced with
Peter, of course, but he had been so aloof with them for so long that they
showed more eagerness to dance with Louis because the thirteen year old
always blushed when they touched him:  attention by any definition.
	Peter's only comfort came near the end of class when they started
practicing the more difficult maneuvers.  In one maneuver, Louis was
supposed to lift one of the girls (one of the lighter ones) up and swing her
around, gently setting her back down on the other end.  The first time, the
boy's large hands actually missed grabbing her.  The second time, it was
obvious that he wasn't strong enough to lift her.  He looked so embarrassed
and hurt.  This only made him look cuter to Peter, but Peter was able to do
the maneuver easily, knowing all the while that it made his muscles flex
and bulge.  The girls' interest in Louis plainly began to switch back to
Peter after this and even more so on the next maneuver which required the
boy to do a spin and flutter kick.  As before, Peter accomplished it easily
and gracefully.  When Louis's turn came, the boy's awkward legs and big
feet tripped him up and he fell to the floor.
	This double failure almost made him cry and Mr. Gordon came over to
help him up.  "It's alright, Louis," he told the boy.  "You're body's changing
right now and it's going to take a while for you to get used to the changes. 
Peter used to have the same problem but he's grown out of it."
	That last brought a glance at Peter by Louis, a look of comradery and
jealousy.  When Mr. Gordon told them to hit the showers, Peter felt so
much better that for a moment he forgot where he was going and what he
was going to see.  That absentmindedness quickly left when he followed
Louis into the boys' locker room.  Immediately, his heart rate doubled, his
breathing grew difficult, and he felt a ticklish excitement between his
legs.
	"You're a good dancer," his voice cracked through a ragged breath as
he allowed himself to gently slap the smaller boy's bare shoulder blade.
	"I'm not as good as you," Louis said, his high pitched voice mixed
with sadness and nervousness.  He knew where they were going too and
was even more nervous about it than Peter; being naked in front of another
boy embarrassed him.
	"I'm just older," Peter brushed it aside as they walked toward their
lockers.  "You'll be even better next year."  Without even thinking about it,
he again moved his hand to the boy's shoulder, this time rubbing across it
before pulling his hand away.  The feel of the boy's skin, so soft and warm,
sent a shiver through Peter that made him pant softly.  He was so
attracted to the younger boy, so sick with desire for his beauty.
	"I used to be real good at flutter kicks," Louis swallowed as the two
of them began turning their combination locks.
	"It's just that your legs are getting longer and you need to relearn
some things," Peter said, hardly thinking about what he was saying,
thinking only of the boy being naked.  He realized too late that he had
unlocked his locker long before Louis had finished his.  He was suddenly
worried that he would be all dressed before Louis even took his clothes
off, and that was the last thing he wanted.  Swallowing and trying to stop
the excitement in his stomach, he sat down on the bench determined to
wait for Louis.  
	"I wish they'd hurry up," Louis said.  His voice was as distant as
Peter's, his mind filled with nervousness.
	Peter started untying his dance shoes, moving slowly, listening as
Louis finally jerked his lock open.  Even though he was going slow, Louis
seemed determined to go slower, taking his time about pulling his street
clothes out and laying them out before starting to undress.  Peter
compensated by pulling his shoes off then sitting up and not going further.
	"Don't worry about it, man," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees
and looking innocently at Louis, as if just trying to comfort him.
	"I guess you're right," Louis said, hoping the older boy would stop
talking and go shower before he did.  When he realized that Peter was in no
hurry, he sighed to himself and sat on the bench.  Showering with other
boys was part of growing up and he knew he had to face it one day or
another.  He'd done it before, of course, but the first time he showered
with new boys always made him nervous.  With boyish hopelessness, he
started to undo his own dance shoes.
	"It took me two years before I could dance like I used to," Peter said. 
He could see that Louis was moving at a normal speed now, and went ahead
and pulled the straps from his shoulders.
	Louis said nothing more.  When he finished taking his shoes off, he
stood up and pulled the straps from his own thin shoulders, making certain
not to look as Peter also stood up and peeled his dance suit down his body.
	Both boys were soon wearing nothing but their jock straps and
neither one bothered delaying in pulling them off.  Peter was so infatuated
with Louis that he couldn't help watching the boy peeling his jock down
his smooth, hairless thighs.  He was pulling his own off as well, but he
was looking at Louis's penis.
	The boyish penis that fell out made him feel even sicker with desire. 
Despite all the penises Peter had seen since starting junior high school,
the actual beauty of them always exceeded his memory of them and Louis's
was so pretty that the older boy ached with jealousy and love.  Though it
had been cramped in a jock for the past hour and a half, Louis's penis hung
freely on his smooth, brown testicles.  Like Peter, he was uncircumcised,
his penis head completely covered by his brown foreskin.  The shaft of his
penis was as brown as the rest of his body, without veins or markings of
any kind, just smooth, soft brown skin.  It hung about four inches long,
dangling out from his slender belly on a beautiful penis mound.  Just
around the brown base of his penis, the boy had a small circle of short,
sparse brown pubic hairs, some so small they still had the downy
appearance of boyhood.  They didn't grow on his scrotum at all and the
hairless curves of his testicles were equally beautiful.  
	Peter watched the young penis roll slightly on his balls as the boy
lifted each of his legs to pull the jock strap off.  The vision of Louis's
little pubic hairs exceeded his greatest dreams.  They were so small, so
pretty against his brown skin, filled with the promises of puberty,
reminding Peter of all the pleasure his own penis gave him when it was in
Louis's stage.  The younger boy's penis was only slightly smaller than
Peter's own and, aside from the difference in color and the fact that
Peter's pubic hair was slightly more developed, the young uncircumcised
penises looked very much alike.
	They stood up together and Peter, his heart pounding and aching,
tried to smile at the smaller boy.  Louis didn't look up at him, however,
just tossed his jock in the locker and started toward the shower.  Not that
Louis hadn't stolen a glance at Peter's penis.  It was normal for pubescent
boys to be curious about each other and Louis was a normal pubescent boy. 
What had never been normal about Louis, or at least not common, was the
depth of fascination he had in other boys' penises.  He was too shy to look
at them for long, but he was so curious, so astonished by them.  Like
Peter, he had masturbated before, many times since his penis had first
grabbed his attention and urged him to rub on it.  He needed orgasm and he
allowed himself to feel it every few weeks, but he was also afraid of the
pleasure of his growing body, bewildered by the hardness of his penis.  He
hadn't made the connection that Peter had, however, not yet; despite his
fascination with other naked boys, he'd never thought seriously about
letting one touch his penis or touching theirs.  All he knew was how
embarrassed he was to be naked.  When he was naked, therefore, he eagerly
left to shower so he could return his penis to the security of his
underwear.
	Peter wasn't quite so innocent, however.  Though he'd never touched
another boy, his fantasies were filled with them, and the sight of Louis's
naked penis filled him with so much pubescent desire that all he could
think about was touching the boy.  So when Louis started toward the
showers, Peter anxiously followed, not wanting to miss a second of the
naked boy.
	Peter's heart pounded as he followed Louis's naked body.  His eyes
gazed down the shorter boy's dark hair, down his slender neck, across his
thin shoulder blades, down at his small, round buttocks, his unbelievably
soft, hairless legs.  His penis, primed for orgasm earlier, tingled with the
desire for erection and only his pubescent fears kept it from flaring up. 
He watched Louis's butt as the boy's big feet stepped into the small
shower, amazed by his own fascination with its gentle roundness and
beauty.  The shower was small and only had two shower heads.  It was
perfect for Peter, too small for Louis who went directly to one of the
heads and turned the water on.  He faced the shower head, away from Peter
as he reached out his hand and felt the temperature of the spray, adjusting
it to something, anything bearable.  Peter did likewise, but he stood with
his back to the wall, facing Louis, still gazing at the boy's bare back and
legs.
	Louis accepted the water temperature and stepped under the spray,
turning his face up into it and letting the water run down his chest and
body.  Peter seized the moment and stood beside the spray watching Louis. 
He could see the naked boy in profile now, could see the small mounds of
his chest and, more importantly, the way his young penis lay gently over
his testicles.  God, it was beautiful.  So beautiful with the sparse little
hairs around its base.  He couldn't take his eyes off it and kept standing
there even when the water temperature was perfect.  He felt almost faint
when Louis's naked little body turned toward him and he saw his penis
head on, its beautiful foreskin such a soft brown, the water glistening as
it cascaded down his baby soft body.
	He looked up and caught Louis's eyes looking into his, realizing that
the boy knew what he was looking at.  Rather than looking away, however,
Peter felt himself smiling at the smaller boy.  Louis swallowed nervously
and turned farther, facing away from the shower head and letting the
water run over his shoulders.  This sent a shudder of sudden fear through
Peter who quickly stepped under his own shower and rubbed his face with
water.  What was he doing?  Was he crazy to let a boy see him looking at
his penis?  Why did he feel glad that Louis had seen him?  God, he felt
sick.
	Louis glanced over at Peter, relieved that the boy wasn't looking at
him anymore.  Why did he look at him?  Why did he smile?  He held his
arms loosely across his small chest, feeling the water against the back of
his head, running over his shoulders, down his back.  Did Peter like his
penis or something?  Did he like looking at other boys?  Embarrassed, but
also curious, he looked down at his own penis, saw its soft brownness
curving over his scrotum, saw his little pubic hairs beneath his smooth,
hairless belly.  It was pretty.  Even he knew it.  Why did Peter look at it
and smile at him?
	Louis turned back toward the shower head and let the water strike
his chest.  Nervously, he looked over at Peter who stood like he was, chest
against the shower spray.  Now, however, Peter was looking at his face,
his eyes nervous and embarrassed, not smiling and filled with boyish fear. 
He had looked at Louis's penis.  That meant that Louis had a right to look at
his.  He swallowed as he looked down Peter's hard body at the young penis
between his legs.  It didn't look like it had back near the lockers.  It was
bigger now and stuck out slightly from between his legs.  Louis felt so
strange inside.  He liked looking at Peter's penis.  It didn't even make him
feel afraid, just strange.  He looked at it for a long time.  It seemed to be
getting bigger, to stick out farther from his body.  Soon, it stuck straight
out and Louis realized that the other boy was getting an erection.  This
made him feel even more strange;  his heart seemed to be beating faster, a
queasy feeling building in his stomach.
	Peter turned to look at him, his hands behind his back, standing in
the spray as his penis stiffened fully with erection, beginning to throb up
and down, the brown penis head emerging half way from his pale foreskin. 
Louis's blue eyes moved slowly up the other boy's slender abdomen and
over his hard, bulging chest.  Soon, his eyes met Peter's.  Neither boy
smiled.  Peter was blushing, but he didn't look away.  Louis swallowed
nervously, his eyes looking down at Peter's small, hard chest and little
brown nipples.  Without even knowing why he was doing it, he turned, too,
facing the bigger boy.  He wanted Peter to see his penis, realized that he
liked having the older boy looking at his naked body.  He could feel a
growing hardness between his own legs and looked down to see his cock
swelling like Peter's, growing into a five and a half inch erection that
pulsed rhythmically.  He kept looking at it, could see the dark brown tip of
his penis just barely poking from his soft brown foreskin.  He felt so
confused.  He wasn't scared, he wasn't even very embarrassed.  It was as if
he had entered some dream world and nothing that was happening was real.
	The two boys stood there, there slender arms lightly concealing
their hard, boyish chests, their penises sticking out hard and frantic from
their smooth bodies, pulsing, eager for their companion on the other boy. 
For a long moment their blue eyes gazed into each other, then Peter
dropped his gaze, let it move slowly down the skinny, baby soft boy in
front of him.  Louis's abdomen looked so small, his belly button so pretty
and little on his smooth, brown skin.  Then his penis, throbbing
rhythmically, looking so beautiful on the boy's hairless body, the erection
looking slender, but rock hard in the soft covering of his foreskin.  It was
growing with puberty, not full sized yet but more than a boy's toy as it
pulsed its excited five and a half inches.  The sparse little pubic hair
around it pointed out the changes going on inside the young boy's hormone
ridden body, growing into young manhood though he was still only thirteen.
	He made no effort to conceal his erection from Peter, just stood
wondering what the older boy was doing, what he was thinking about
doing.  The feel of Peter's loving eyes made the boy reel with images of
being touched by him and the desire made him swoon slightly with
nervous, hopeful fear.  He looked at Peter's muscular young arms as they
cradled his hard chest, uncertain what to make of the warm, tender
feelings they evoked in his young heart.  Knowing Peter was looking at his
penis, he swallowed as he looked back at Peter's throbbing even harder
than his own.  What was he thinking?  What were they doing?
	He took a nervous, reflexive step backward as he realized Peter was
moving toward him.  His eyes shot up and looked into the older boy's,
which looked at him tenderly, achingly.  Louis could feel his desire but
didn't understand it, only knew that Peter was as nervous as he was.  The
older boy paused a moment, then continued moving toward Louis; the
smaller boy gasped softly as he managed to hold his ground and allowed
Peter to approach.  Peter's arms dropped slowly to his side as he came to a
stop only inches from Louis.  Their erections throbbed only inches from
each other, poking out at the other boy as if indicating what they wanted,
what they needed.  His chest looked so hard beneath the small mounds of
his muscle, his nipples so small and such a pretty brown color against his
smooth, pale skin.
	"What are you going to do?" Louis's young voice trembled, still
standing with his arms held loosely across his small chest, looking into
Peter's pretty face with boyish pleas for gentleness and understanding.
	Peter's blue eyes glanced down at Louis's small body and he gave a
barely perceptible shrug.  His chest swelled for air, his heart beating so
hard Louis could see the pulses beneath the boy's hard muscles.  Peter had
lost control of his body.  His mind sat swimming in desire, aware of little
but the smaller boy's body, the innocence in his blue eyes, his hopeful,
frightened gaze, distantly aware that his naked body was moving toward
the adorable thirteen year old.  It moved of its own accord, Peter's mind
just watching it as if from a great distance as his large hands slowly
raised, slowly took a soft grip of Louis's little shoulders.  Passionate
blood raced through his heart, through his brain, into his erection, all
through his tingling body.  The feel of a naked boy in his hands was
unbelievable, the fact that he was actually touching him so exciting.  He
wanted to feel the boy's chest but his big hands just slid slowly down
Louis's slender arms, the soft appendages obediently lowering, falling to
the young teenager's sides with no more volition than Peter had.  
	Peter was holding Louis's little biceps, his eyes gazing at the skinny
boy's bare chest now, at the prominent rib cage, the tiny dark brown
nipples of his boyhood.  Unable to help himself, Peter's hands gently pulled
the naked boy toward him.  Louis resisted for only a moment, then
succumbed to his pubescent hormones, allowing the older boy to pull him
into his arms, to pull him against his hard, muscular chest.  Their rock
hard erections met, rubbed against each other, poked up between their
hairless bellies as their bodies blended together.  Such a wealth of
pleasure coursed through their organs and throughout their entire bodies
that both boys gasped, audibly now.  The feel of another naked boy against
their own naked bodies was more exciting than anything either boy had
felt while masturbating.  It was like being in orgasm, only the pleasure
wasn't as hard, wasn't as frantic, wasn't going to climax and go away as
quickly.
	Louis stood almost limply in Peter's arms, feeling the older boy's
hands moving across his thin shoulders, feeling his baby soft back.  He
didn't know what to do or say and just stood there, dizzy with the
pleasures of being touched and held, dizzy with the feel of the hardness
between his legs being gently rubbed against his body by the other boy. 
Peter was panting, making slight, high pitched crying noises that cracked
with puberty as his hips reflexively, slowly and tenderly pressed his six
inch erection into the younger boy's hairless testicles and the small, soft
patch of his sparse little pubic hairs.  He wanted to cry, it felt so good and
his strong arms bulged as they held the boy's little chest against his own,
his hands marveling at the beautiful feel of the thirteen year old.
	"Peter," Louis's soprano voice cautioned, but the boy regretted
speaking almost immediately, afraid that Peter might stop, his body
wanting what his mind told him was wrong, his pubescent youth
determined to defeat his innocent brain.  He stood there, arms straight at
his sides, feeling the pleasure of Peter's smooth, hard body as it rubbed
against him, consumed by the hardness in his penis, the intense throbbing
he could feel in the other boy's erection.
	Peter moved slightly away from Louis.  His hands still held the boy
and his penis was still bumping against the younger boy's erection but his
chest moved away from Louis's.  He looked into the adorable boy's baby
blue eyes, could see the nervous fear and desire so like his own.  He was
still panting quickly as he looked down their bodies, his pale and smooth
against the baby soft brownness of Louis's slender youth.  Their penises
both looked so hard he couldn't believe it and the sight of them made him
even hornier.  His own foreskin had completely freed his brown penis head
and it shined brightly against the other boy's sparse little pubic hairs. 
Louis's foreskin had retreated just enough to reveal the end of his head,
enough to show the smaller boy's slit gaping open, ready to ejaculate,
eager to ejaculate.
	"What are you going to do?" Louis asked again, his small chest
beginning to swell for more air as his eyes joined Peter's in looking at
their hard penises.
	They stood there for a long moment facing each other, the water
splashing against their shoulders and running down their hairless bellies
through the sparse hairs between their legs, their young penises pulsing
rhythmically up and down as the water ran in trickles from their smooth
testicles, down their soft thighs.  Peter didn't answer the younger boy's
question.  He didn't know what he was going to do.  He had never been so
close to another naked boy before.  His body was alive with desire, urging
him, begging him to rub his penis against Louis and give it the pleasure it
loved so much.  But he was just as nervous as Louis was.  Finally, he
pushed the boy back against the wall, out from beneath the shower's spray. 
When Louis's thin shoulders pressed against the tiles, Peter's arms
reflexively bent and his hard, naked body moved forward, his erection
quickly finding Louis's, his slender but muscular chest and abdomen laying
against the smaller boy.
	He held him again, panting as his hips gently, tenderly rubbed his
penis up and down against Louis's soft belly, feeling the smaller boy's hard
erection rubbed against his testicles and sparse pubic hairs.  It was
heaven.  He could not believe how good it felt, the younger boy so soft and
smooth, so sweet and innocent.  He could feel Louis's dark, wet hair laying
against his shoulder and he pulled him away from the wall enough to slip
his arms around the boy's back again so he could rub lovingly across his
thin shoulders.  He was doing it.  He was actually having sex with another
boy.  The thought alone was so wonderful to him that he almost cried.
	Louis realized enough now to know that he and Peter were having sex
and the young thirteen year old slowly wrapped his thin arms around
Peter's slender waist.  It felt strange, awkward, to be feeling another boy
between his legs the way he was and he was afraid of it, but he liked it
too.  The pleasure building in his penis was more exciting than
masturbation, to actually be feeling an older boy's smooth chest and
hairless thighs rubbing against his own, to feel the hardness of another
boy's penis rubbing against his erection in pleasure he knew they both
shared equally.  He could feel and hear the squeaky, cracking vibrations of
Peter's moans against his chest and they felt so good, the hard mounds of
Peter's muscles soothing him, exciting him, thrilling his young pubescent
erection.
	Peter was so dazed by pleasure that he couldn't think about anything
but the wonderful feeling of the other boy, the smoothness of his skin, the
hard, skinniness of his boyish chest and thin abdomen, the intense,
throbbing hardness of the other boy's erection against his own, rubbing his
as they moved, gently, slowly against each other, building beautifully to
the warmth of pubescent orgasm.  Louis's high pitched voice let out a
startled cry suddenly and Peter could feel his small arms holding more
tightly to his body, felt the smaller boy's hips gently pumping back against
him, knew that Louis was every bit as excited as he was, knew that they
were both going to have an orgasm.  He thought about how nice it would be
to suck on Louis's young cock, to feel the boy squirting sperm into his
mouth, but holding him felt so good that he couldn't let go.  He imagined
buttfucking Louis, or masturbating with him, all the things he had dreamt
of doing with another boy for so long, but all he could do was hold him, rub
against him, make love to him with all the love and tenderness that was in
him.
	The boys' thin legs rippled gently as they moved, both pumping their
small butts forward, pressing their penises together, rubbing their own
body against the other's.  Louis's head was laying on Peter's chest and
upper arm, the boy's eyes closed as he held the taller boy and cried in soft,
frightened exclamations of pleasure, awe and wonder.  Peter occasionally
pressed his smooth, angular face against Louis's hair but mostly tried to
look down at the adorable boy's small body, down his thin, baby soft back,
over his small, boylike shoulders.  Often he looked up toward heaven,
gasping and moaning, but quickly returned to the young boy in his arms,
against his body, between his legs.  The hardness between their smooth,
hairless bodies was growing more intense with each passing second and
neither boy tried to stop it, both just kept rubbing, pressing, rhythmically
moving their own penis up and down between the other's legs.
	Louis's startled cries became more frantic as he felt his erection
filling with more and more pleasure.  He held tightly to Peter as if holding
the older boy would help him hold in the intensity of the orgasm between
his legs, but it did nothing but remind him of how beautiful Peter was,
how smooth and hard his body was, how tenderly and gracefully the
fourteen year old made love to him.  It was going to happen at any second
and Louis knew it.  He was doing it with another boy, sharing the beauty of
his puberty, the beauty of his body, the intense pleasure of his orgasm,
with another boy, a sweet, gentle boy, an older boy, a loving boy.  His
orgasm hit with such intense waves of pleasure that Louis started crying
out loud, his high pitched voice echoing in the shower as orgasm swept
into every fiber of his muscles, every cell in his body.  No where was the
pleasure more intense than it was in his five and a half inch penis with its
sparse little pubic hairs.  The boy shoved it against Peter's bigger, thicker
erection, felt his body jerking the young cock up and down quickly,
pressing it into the smooth youth of Peter's cock.  His sperm, so thin and
boyish, squirt out in little droplets, not enough to even be felt between
the smoothness of the boys' bellies as they rubbed, but with such
pubescent beauty and hormone driven strength.  Louis's teeth were
clenched, the orgasm ravaged thirteen year old trying to contain a
pleasure he had too little experience with.  His efforts only made his
skinny body stand out hard with flexing little muscles, frantically jerking
his chest and abdomen against Peter.
	Peter was crying as much as Louis as he felt the boy having an
orgasm in his arms.  It was wonderful, beautiful;  it was the most
wonderful thing he had ever felt.  Louis was so small, so frightened, so in
need of an older boy's loving guidance and so eager to accept it.  He stood
there feeling Louis jerking with orgasm and concentrated on the beauty of
that young orgasm as his eyes closed and the splendor of his own orgasm
heaved up inside his penis as it rubbed against Louis's soft belly.  He
couldn't think about anything but orgasm:  the orgasm in the smaller boy in
his arms jerking against him, and the orgasm racing through his penis and
body with the strength of a locomotive.  It seemed as if the world was as
loud as a locomotive, too, or so quiet that there was no other sound but
the two of their young voices moaning, crowing, crying the pride and
pleasure they shared, the beauty they adored, one voice high-pitched like a
child's, the other just beginning the frantic ascension to manhood.
	Peter cried out loudly and his bigger body pressed the naked, jerking
boy against the shower wall.  His hips pulled back and made several long,
frantic, desperate lunges against Louis, stroking his big penis head up and
down against the boy's brown skin, reeling in ecstacy and passion.  Sperm
squirted out onto their smooth bellies, mixing with Louis's in a warm,
slimy mixture both boys could feel.  Unlike Louis, Peter's more mature
penis made several ejaculations, each one a thin, powerful squirt of boy
sperm strong enough to shoot all the way across the shower and splatter
against the far wall.
	"Oh, God, Louis!" he cried as his strong, young body made several
final thrusts before his passion had fully climaxed and sent the boy slowly
reeling back toward reality.  He could feel Louis still clinging tightly to
him, the smaller boy's chest heaving for air, crying softly, holding his
young penis against Peter's.  The realization that he was still holding the
boy suddenly shot through his mind.  They were naked.  Their penises, both
so big for such young boys, were slowly softening, both spent, both
exhausted, both lightly covered by their intermingled sperms.  What had he
done?  He felt so ashamed.
	But it had felt so good.  Never had he felt the total release of his
body's tension until that moment; never had masturbation so fully rid him
of the aching inside him.  He was afraid of how Louis was going to
respond, but he prayed, as his big hands gently rubbed across Louis's small
shoulders, he prayed that the gasping, naked boy in his arms felt as good
as he did in the warm afterglow of pubescent orgasm.
	Louis lay there against his chest and he felt his hand automatically
go to the boy's wet hair, to stroke it, to comfort him, to hold him in his
arms a moment longer.  He could feel their penises growing softer
together, soon felt them laying limp between their legs.  Still, he made no
move to break away.  Louis was gaining control of his breathing, but was
just standing there, not speaking, not moving, not even moving his head
away.  Was he worried about condemnation from Peter as much as Peter
was worried about it from him?  Was he waiting for Peter to speak?  To
comfort him?  To continue loving him?
	Peter suddenly heard a soft cough behind him and he let go of Louis
so quickly that the small boy almost fell over.  They both stood there,
their penises dangling spent between their legs, and looked in terror at
the knowing smile of Mr. Gordon.