Disclaimer: All the usual apply: If you don't like consentual sexual acts, then go somewhere else. All this is fiction = a dream / wish.
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I am a naturist. This means that I like to be the way nature created me - without any clothes on. Most of my friends and neighbors know this, as it is no secret.
So it was a very normal day where I was sitting on my terrace after work enjoying a glass of white wine.
My parcel is on the corner of the block, with an industrial area - mostly offices and other non-intrusive companies - on the other side of a high fence making my garden a very convenient shortcut for the neighborhood young's. Once on a neighborhood meeting a parent had asked what should be done to keep the children from running through the garden of the corner parcel. I had stood up and said "Nothing". "I don't mind as long as the children don't mess up the flowers and as long as they don't yell and scream while running through the garden." This calmed everyone down, and now I have children running through the garden occasionally, and occasionally they see a man in his "birthday suit".
I had recently noticed especially one of the boys, Timothy, who had been coming through my garden frequently and always looking up at the terrasse as if to see if I was there. Well, today I was there when he came walking into the garden. Timothy is around 12, a little short for his age, with blond - but not white - hair going down to just cover his ears, just starting to get a little muscle tone.
Again, he looked up at the terrasse as he came into the garden, but this time I was actually there. He paused, and then seemed to make up his mind. He walked up to the terrasse and said hi.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"My name is Timothy, and live a little down the road" he pointed down the side of my house.
"My name is George, and I live here" I replied pointing back to my house. This caused Timothy to giggle a little before he continued.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, you can ask me anything - except how to become invisible, I haven't worked that out yet." This took a little while to sink in, but then I got another giggle out of him - I liked that sound.
"Why don't you have any hair ... down there? Don't all men have that?"
"Yes, most men have hair ... down here" I said taking my 10 cm limp dick in hand. "But I like to keep it shaven. It feels nicer, I think."
"But why do you ask? Is it a dare from some of the other kids in the neighbourhood?"
"No, I just saw it one of the times me and some of the other boys came through here, and I just wondered. And my mother doesn't like to talk about these kinds of stuff, so I decided I had to ask you directly."
"Oh, OK. Well, now you know."
"And if you ever have questions like that, you are welcome to come and ask. I will always try to ask as best I can - except about invisibility - hehe."
"Haha - funny. Well, thanks for the answer. I gotta go now, dinner will be soon. See ya.
"See ya" I replied as Timothy scampered off.
Me? My name is George, and I am a 26 years old software engineer. I am 180 cm and average build. I weigh 75 kg. I work mostly as a consultant, and most of my work is done from home. This means I am at home a lot.
On the following Saturday Timothy came back in the afternoon, and apparently my honesty with him the first time he drew up the courage to ask me a sensitive question - or a question about something in an area which most people are sensitive talking about - had let him to decide that I should answer all the questions he had in - or rather about - this area.
"Hi" he said as he came onto my terrace without any inhibitions.
"Hi yourself, Timothy. How's it hangin'?" I replied.
"Hanging? What do you mean?"
"How is it hanging! It is just a slang expression for How are you doing?"
"Well, it is hanging ... How do you reply to this slang?"
"You can reply most anything you like. It is one of those questions where you don't really expect a reply, so sometimes people just answer whatever comes to mind. Like for instance upside down. Or by its tentacles."
Another giggle. A most beautiful sound.
"I told my mother about the other day, and what I asked you about."
"Ohh - and what did your mother have to say about it?"
"She didn't really like to talk about it, as I said last time, but eventually she agreed that I could ask you the questions I have without bothering her with it any more."
"So this was decided by you and your mother - without asking me how I felt about it?" I said with a not very well hidden smirk.
"Weeellll, You said last time that I could ask you anything. Didn't you mean it?"
"Yes, of course I meant it. I was just kidding."
"So, what do you want to know."
"Anything. We did have some sex ed classes, but the teacher didn't explain it very well, and the pamphlets we got where even worse."
"Hmm, this sounds like it is going to be a lengthy session. Why don't you sit down, and do you want something to drink?"
"Yes, I would like to have a large beer", he smirked.
"Sure thing" I replied, "do you want that with cola or Fanta flavor?"
"I prefer my beer with Fanta flavor" Timothy replied.
"Coincidence - so do I."
I got us each a Fanta and sat down again.
"Do you want to get comfortable like me? You are welcome to take your clothes off like me, if you want." That day Timothy was wearing a pair of navy blue shorts, a lime green polo and sandals.
After considering the offer for a little while, Timothy decided against it: "No thanks, I don't think I would be comfortable doing that today. But thanks."
"You are most welcome. Here at my place there are no inhibitions. As long as you don't destroy anything or hurt anyone, anything is allowed."
"OK, I will try and remember this."
"And now to the questions" I said. "Why don't you start with any question you like, and then we can progress from there."
"How do you make babies?"
...
And thus we spent a couple of hours with Timothy asking all kinds of questions regarding reproduction, physical appearances, emotional states and various types of sexuality.
I answered as best I could, with the help of my own body in a few cases, like when we discussed all the names that were for the different parts of the anatomy.
...
Eventually the barrage of questions came to an end, and Timothy was about to leave, when he had one extra question.
"Can I see how you shave your private parts?"
"Sure, no problem. However, I shaved just yesterday, and I usually shave max twice a week, as my hair doesn't grow that fast."
"Ohh, then you will shave again on Tuesday or Wednesday?"
"Yeah, I usually shave once during the weekend and sometimes once in the middle of the week.
"Hmm. Tuesday I have to go with my mother to visit my aunt, and Wednesdays I go to gymnastics. So I guess we will have to wait till next weekend."
"Sure, that is fine by me. I don't have any plans next weekend, so I will just hold up on the shaving until then."
"Thanks. I will let you know when I can come over to see it. Could I have your cell number - then I can just text you."
"Sure, lets swap numbers" I said and got inside to get my phone. Then we swapped numbers, and Timothy was about to leave when I added: "But next time you have to get Natural. Shaving the crotch is so personal, that you should get personal too."
Timothy pondered this for a little while before he accepted: "OK. You can even see me now", and with that he lowered his shorts and showed me that he went commando - no undies. Then he pulled the shorts back up, turned around and with a "See ya" over his shoulder went through the small hole in the hedge near the corner of the lot.
What little - no pun intended - I got to see when he flashed his weener was that he had 6 to 7 cm of boy meat hanging slightly to the left, an additional 1/2 to 1 cm of foreskin and a pair of balls that were still waiting to start to grow.
...
Tuesday evening I got a text from Timothy: "Bummer. My mom is going out of town to a convention this weekend, so I have to stay over at my aunts. And it is no fun. She is going to have a dinner party with some other old folks, so I have to watch TV the entire weekend."
A few minutes later while I was pondering a reply came the follow-up: "Unless I can stay Saturday night at your place. OK?"
This took a little while to digest, but eventually I replied: "Sure, I don't have any plans for Saturday. But could you please get your mom to contact me. I would like to make 120% sure it is fine with her."
"Sure. Later"
About an hour later I got a call from Timothy's mother asking if I would be home the following evening, as she would like to discuss Timothy's request with me. I said I would be home, and that she was welcome to drop by.
Wednesday evening I didn't go natural as I didn't see any reason in pushing it against someone who was allegedly shy of matters below the belt. Timothy's mother Eileen came over around eight, and we had a cup of coffee while we talked.
"Thank you for taking your time with Timothy" his mother started.
"It's not a problem. For a number of reasons I don't have any children of my own, but I am very fond of children, so taking time talking to them is not a problem at all."
"Well. Thanks anyway."
"As Timothy might have told you, he has no father, and since I don't have any male relatives in an appropriate age-group, Timothy doesn't really have anyone he can talk to - like son-to-father kind of way."
"No, he didn't say that he didn't have a father - just that you and him didn't talk about ... Stuff ... You know?"
"Yes, I know. But as Timothy haven't told you, I can fill you in. Timothy's father left us when Timothy was 1½ years old, and we haven't heard from him since. Not that he was the perfect man or father, but just leaving without any word was too low. Timothy knows this, but it is no longer anything we talk about. But this is part of the reason why Timothy misses a father-figure."
"Ohh. Well. I'll be happy to help Timothy whenever he needs someone to talk to or whatever."
"Thanks. That would mean a lot to Timothy. I know he currently concerns himself very much with sex and sexuality, so if you would talk to him about it I would really appreciate it."
Later that evening I got a text from Timothy: "Heard you talked with my mom. She says it's GO for Saturday. Can't wait."
I texted him back: "CU Sat.day"
Thursday evening I got a new text from Timothy: "There is a problem with this weekend. Mom have to go to the convention already Friday. Which means I need to go to my aunt Friday, and then I can't get home until Sunday. So I can't be with you Saturday."
This was of course very disappointing, but while I was deciding what to reply I got another text from Timothy: "Unless I can stay with you all weekend from Friday to Sunday?"
"Sure" I replied. This was even going to be better.
A few more texts back and forth, and it was agreed that he would come over Friday afternoon after school and stay until Monday morning when he would go straight to school from my place.
...
Friday afternoon. I knew Timothy would get off at 2, so I made sure that everything was ready by then. The fridge was stuffed with anything we could possible want, clean sheets on all beds, computers ready for any game he could want to play, shaving kit ready - that was the original purpose for his visit, remember?
At 5 past 2 I got a text from Timothy: "Out of school. Be there in 15."
"Waiting for you."
...
Finally Timothy showed up. It had been a very nice day with a bit of sunshine and around 27° C, but after noon the clouds had started to gather, and it was currently raining rather heavy. As Timothy had a 5 minute walk from the bus to my place, he was now soaking wet. I opened the door and greeted him in my usual outfit - nothing.
"Hey Timothy. You look a little wet. Is it raining?" I asked as I looked outside where water were coming down like they wanted to deposit a months worth of rain in ten minuites.
"No, what makes you think that? Just because I am wetter than the inside of a filled bathtub?"
Obvious Timothy was a very fast thinker to be able to come up with such a rapid and ironic answer. Good. I like intelligent children.
"Well, you now have two choices. One, get out of those soaking clothes and be natural like me, or go change into something a little less wet. What do you think?"
"I think I would like to try going natural like you" Timothy replied.
"Good. First lets go to the bathroom and get you out of the wet clothes, and then I have some instructions for you."
"Oh, what are those?"
"We will come to that in a little while" I said as I led hiom down the hall to the bathroom.
"Here, this is the one and only bathroom in the house. Now, please drop those wet clothes."
"Could you please help me?" he asked.
"Sure, I will always help you. But why can't you do it yourself?"
"Because my fingers are cold, and when the cloth is cold it is too difficult to do the buttons."
"Ahh, I see", I said and started undressing Timothy.
First came his jacket that he was wearing even though it was a warm season. It was part of the school uniform. Then I undid his tie - a real tie tied with a proper knot rather than one of those clip-on's. Next, I unbottoned his shirt and pulled it out of the trousers. Sliding my hands down his arms I got the shirt off him. The belt came off easily, and then I started unbuttoning his trousers. They were the kind with all buttons instead of a zipper. Using one hand on the "inside" and one on the outside I could feel his small pecker - wet, cold and sticking out - against the back of my hand. Eventually all the buttons were undone, and I slid my hands down his legs pulling the trousers down with them. With the trousers down at his ankles, I raised my hands and slid them in under the elastic band of his tighties, around to his buttocks and down a little before I moved my hands back to the "outside" of his legs and pulled the briefs down to the ankles along with the trousers.
I sat down on the floor in front of him and started undoing the laces on his shoes - while having my head level with his hips and therefor an undesturbed view of his weener.
It was a nice uncircumsized 6 cm - limp - with a nice set of balls that was only just beginning to fall away from the body and get a real ballsack.
I got his shoes off, and then asked him to lift his legs one at a time in order to get his trousers and undies off. As he was now left with only his socks, I asked him to do a handstand for me (remember, he did gymnastics every Wednesday). He got up to a handstand with me supporting him, and I removed his wet socks. Then I let him get back down again.
"Now, in order for you to get comfortably warm fast, please get under the shower for two minutes."
While Timothy was in the shower I sorted out his clothes and put them in the washer to be ready for Monday morning. After this he got out of the shower, and I dried him all over with a big fluffy towel.
"So, now that you are warm and dry, we need to get back to the rules I told you about before."
"Rules, I thought you said instructions?"
"Well, you can call it rules or instructions. It is more or less the same thing here."
"First, as your buttom and penis will be touching the furniture, it is important that both are squeaky clean. This means that whenever you have been at the toilet, you will take one of these disposable cloths, add water and soap, wash yourself on and around your penis, under your foreskin and - most importantly - thoroughly in your crack. Any question?"
"Could you show me, please?"
"Anything that comes with a please is almost guaranteed to be fulfilled, so the answer here is ... Yes."
With that I grabbed a cloth, made it wet under the faucet and added a little soap. Then I moved behind Timothy, pushed him over to stand in front of the full length mirror and washed his weener thoroughly, pulled back his foreskin to reveal a symmetric and slightly round head. This I washed as well before I asked him to lift one of his feet onto the edge of the bubble tub and then cleaned his crack as thoroughly as if I was going to be eating off it.
"Now, this is clean" I said as I threw the cloth in the bin.
"Can I try" he asked, and as I agreed, he took a new cloth, added water, added soap, pushed me to stand in front of the mirror and got behind me. This I had not anticipated. I was as happy as could be, but totally surprised.
As Timothy couldn't reach around me as I did with him, he eventually had to stand in front of me in order to do the job. First he used one hand to wash around my dick and ballsack, but when it came to wash the actual thing, he had to use two hands; one to hold/lift and the other to wash. And of course he also had to use one hand to pull my foreskin back and one to wash. By this time I was having a hard time keeping my dick at half mast - I didn't want to focus too much on it yet. He then instructed me to lift one leg to the edge of the tub and then he used oe hand to separate my buttocks even further while he washed with the other. But then his fingers "slipped", and the hand without the cloth suddenly had a finger up my hole. Not much, but at least the first section was past my sphincter. Accident - I think not.
Timothy decided he had finished cleaning me, and he went and deposited the cloth in the bin.
"Now, even though we are clean, we may start to sweat, so in order to keep the furniture clean, we will at all times sit on small towels" I instructed and led Timothy to a cabinet in the hall where there were a whole bunch of towels. "We take a new towel whenever we feel like it or deem it necessary because we have been sweating too much. Any questions?"
"Nope, everything as clear as fog" Timothy replied giggling. I just can't get enough of that giggle.
"Last item. If - or when - there is someone at the door, it is your own choice if you want to put clothes on or not. If you want we can keep a pair of your shorts near the hallway, so you can always reach them in a few seconds if you want to?"
"Nahh - I don't think that will be necessary." "OK. But remember, it is your choice. The same with going natural at all. If at some point you want to wear clothes, that is not a problem with me."
"Thanks. It is nice to know I have this option. But for now I don't need it."
"Good. Now for something less fun. Homework!"
"What about it?"
"Well, since you are going to be here until Monday morning, we should consider when you should do your homework. How much is it?"
"We handed in an English paper today, so nothing in English. But there is some in Math, Biology and History."
"What kinds are the ones in biology and history?"
"Biology is a drawing we have to make, and history is a chapter we have to read in our book."
"OK. Why don't you start with the reading while I do a few chores around the house, and then we can do the math and biology together?"
"Sounds good. I will start reading. It is only 10 pages, so it should be fairly quick."
As Timothy sat down - on a small towel - at the dinner table I went in the kitchen and started preparing a few things for the evenings dinner.
Maybe a layout of the house is in order. From the frontdoor you enter the hallway (what a surprise) from which you enter through a sliding door to the open-space-concept of kitchen on your right hand side, dinner table in the middle section and sofa tv area on the left hand side. Across the dining area, opposite the hallway, is another hallway with first a bathroom on the right, followed by a utility room and then a small guest-room. On the left is the master bedroom extended with a walk-in closet.
After Timothy finished reading his history book, he went on to the drawing for biology. He needed to do a drawing of the human digestive system. Looking through various books he was almost finished, when I suggested: "The last item in the digestive system is the anus. You can draw mine" and with that I double over in front of him and gave him a clear view of my sphincter. This gave him such a laughing fit that I had to get up and slap him on his back before he choked.
The math he did on his own, although I was ready to help (I am an engineer after all).
With the homework out of the way I asked him to put his schoolbag and overnight bag in his room.<
"But George, which room is mine?"
"Good question, as I haven't shown you the whole house."
"This we stand in is the kitchen, dinner, living area. Through this door" opening the door to the hallway "is the bathroom that you have already seen. Then there is this utility room for laundry and electicity and stuff. On your left hand side is the master bedroom" I said opening the door and going in.
"Here is the master bed - 2 meters 20 long and 2 meters 20 wide. This is where I sleep, and here is my walk-in closet."
"Going back out into the hallway you will notice furthest down on your right a small door leading to a small, dark and damp guestroom" I said with a hoarse voice trying to sound scaring.
"And this concludes the tour of the inside of my house. You may give a tip to the tour-guide at your discretion" I laughed.
"But you still haven't said where I should sleep" Timothy objected.
"You can sleep anywhere you want, but I should warn you that sleeping in the bathroom might be a little wet."
"Then I want to sleep in the giant bed with you" he exclaimed.
"Okey-dokey then. Then put your stuff in there."
...
After everything had been cleared away it was about time to get started on some dinner. I had prepared some vegetables that I would fry along with some pork chops. This went down very well, mine with a glass of wine, and Timothy's with a glass of milk.
After clearing the plates I asked Timothy what he wanted to do the rest of the evening. The clouds had cleared and the wind settled down, so it was a fair evening, and I suggested we should jump in the swimming pool and be silly for a while.
"But I didn't bring my speedoes" objected Timothy.
"Since you have been going without any clothes for the last 5 hours, don't you think you could survive in the swimming pool where noone can see your weener anyway?"
"But ... "
"Trust me, noone can see into the garden, and it is only you children that occasionally run through it. And most children are at home by now with their families, so noone is coming into the garden. And even if they were, they wouldn't be able to see your weener under the water."
"Hmm ... OK then."
Thus, we spent the next hour or so playing tag - after we got the rules sorted out first. Timothy thought it was unfair that I had so much longer reach, so I should have some kind of disadvantage.
"How about if I can only tag you on one part of your body. Would that be fair?"
"Yeah, that sounds fair."
"OK. Which part should I tag you on?"
"My weener" Timothy said with a smirk.
"Ohh, you mean this part?" I said as I grabbed him around the waist, lifted him up in my arms so only his buttocks touched the water, and used my left hand to cup his weener and - because of the water - crumpled up ballsack.
"Yep, that's the one" Timothy laughed.
A little later Timothy introduced the rule that if he tagged my dick, he would score double. How this could ever be fair in a game where you took turns tagging was above me, but if it got him going after my nice member it was fine by me.
As we had had an early dinner, it was no more than 7:30 when we got out of the pool, dried ourself off and went inside. There I made Timothy a cup of cocoa and myself a cup of coffee, and we went to sit in the sofa - each on a small towel.
"So, what should we do now?" I asked.
"You promised I could see you shave" Timothy said.
"Actually I said you could watch when I shaved Saturday. That's not until tomorrow. What should we do now?"
"I don't know. Do you have any computergames?"
"I think I have most of the common games. Anyone in particular?"
"How about World of Warcraft? I have never played that."
"Sure, we can do that. Hang on a second while I hook up some laptops on the dinner table, then we can sit better."
I got up and collected a couple of laptops from the guestroom that also doubled as storage for all kinds of computers and paraphernalia - both gamespecced of course - and set them up on the dinner table, each with an extra 30" monitor, mouse, external keyboard and headset. Then I got an extra cushion for Timothy, so he would get a proper height and asked him to come over.
"Part of my job as software engineer is looking at others software, and a while back I studied the graphics and gameplay of WoW for another gamecompany - in order to get ideas. So I have like 5 different accounts paid for by someone else, ande I have spent some time getting through many of the storylines in the game."
"What do you want to play?" I asked as I sat down and beckoned Timothy to sit at the other laptop next to me.
"I don't know the game that much" he said. "Can't you just show me around a little?"
"Sure. Let me start one of my facorite characters. A dwarf hunter."
As I loaded the character, Timothy came and stood next to me. My chair was a fair bit away from the table, and in a short while he had moved in and sat on my lap. With him sitting there I showed him around in all the parts of the WoW experience.
...
After a while this seemed to bore Timothy, and after shufling around in my lap a while he turned around and asked: "Can I see your dinkie?"
"Well, haven't you seen it all day? I can't remember hiding it from you under layers of clothing or something like that."
"I don't mean like that."
"Then you have to explain how you mean" I said.
"I mean like look at it up close, investigating it."
"Ahh, that."
"Yes, you can investigate my penis, but I have to tell you that I have three rules concerning stuff like this with touching and doing."
"What are those rules" Timothy asked.
"One. No means no! This means that if someone says something is not OK, then that is so. No doing it anyway or luring them or brybing them into accepting."
"Sure, I know about that rule. We learned that in sex ed in school."
"Oh, so you actually learned something in school. This comes a bit of a surprise" I added sarcastically.
"What are the other rules?"
"Rule two. Anything you do to or with me, I can do to or with you. Usually rule number one doesn't apply here, as you should never do anything to someone that you don't want that someone to do to you. OK?"
"Yeah, I can understand that."
"Good. Now rule number three. If you want something, you have to do it yourself. Meaning that if I am wearing trousers and you want to see my dick, then you have to take the trousers off yourself. OK?"
"Hmm, yeah. I think that is OK too."
"Good. Now, where were we?"
"You were about to show me your dinkie" Timothy said.
"No, didn't you understand rule number three. If you want it, you have to make it happen yourself" I explained.
This time he understood, and he asked me to follow him into the bedroom, where he asked me to lay down on the bed. Once there he began "looking" at my dick. At first he just lay on his stomach propped up on his elbows and looked at the dick very thoroughly - as if to memorize every feature of it.
...
At this stage I was still able to kep it almost flaccid - despite my anticipations for later. Eventually he turned on his side and used the free hand to caress my dick. He slowly traced - first with one finger - up and down my shaft and around my ballsack. At this time I took advantage of rule number two and lifted his body over, so we were looking at each other's - both on our sides. I now started to mimick every move he made. When he moved one finger up and down the side of my dick, I did the same to his winkie. As he used his whole hand to cup my balls, I used three fingers to cup his. As he pulled my foreskin back, I pulled his back and started caresing his head. Then he started caressing my head and explored my pissslit. Then I moisted my finger with some saliva and caressed his head and piss slit, and as he mimicked my action I started using my fingers to masturbate his now 10 cm cock. When he started rubbing up and down my full hardon, I moisted a finger on my free hand and gently caressed his crack. After a little while he did the same to me, and as I spread my legs to give him better access, he spread his to grant me better access. After doing this for a while, he suddenly asked: "Can I see you make sperm?"
"Well, now we are back with rule number three. I am going to get on my back and stop messing with your body for a while, and then it is completely up to you."
As I now lay on my back, Timothy moved over so he was partly on top of me with one leg across my chest and his weener humping my armpit. In that position he started playing with my dick. Sometimes he caressed it, sometimes he just caressed my piss slit, sometimes he caressed my balls, and sometimes he wanked me off real good.
After a little while I took hold of him and lifted him up, so he lay directly on top of me with his ballsack right outside my lips. I started licking his balls, and after a little while I pulled him up a little so I could suck on his weener while he wanked me. We kept at it like this for a couple of minutes until I could feel I was getting close. I told him so, and I moved him off my chest so he could see properly. I finally came and shot a few good squirts up in the air before they landed on my belly.
"Now you have seen me make sperm. Happy?" I asked.
"Yeah, it was neat. What is sperm like?"
"Well, you can try to touch it. It doesn't bite or anything, so you are perfectly safe. You can even try to taste it if you like. Some says it tastes good, and some says it has almost no taste. I haven't met anyone that says it tastes bad. But it is up to you."
With this Timothy touched the puddle of sperm on my belly to feel it and even lifted on finger to his mouth and gently prodded the finger with his tongue. After tasting the little on his finger he leaned over and carefully extended his tongue to the puddle, and after a few careful licks he apparently decide that he liked the taste and with one sweep of his tongue took it all in. Seeing him like that made me hope that even more fun could be had later.
...
We went back in the dining room and stowed the laptops with paraphernalia away and after a quick visit to the bathroom we went back to the master bedroom.
"So, how would you like the sleeping arrangements" I asked. "I like to sleep on the left side of the bed looking at it from the end of the bed, but if you have other wishes we may discuss it" I asked Timothy.
"I don't really have any idea, it is so big that I don't think it matters."
"OK. Then how about this? I get into bed where and how I like, and then you do what and how you like. OK?"
With that I got down on my "left" side of the bed and pulled the thin covers over me. Timothy then went down on the middle of the bed, lifted my covers and snuggled up to me lying on his left side. I turned on my side, lifted my right arm to cover him and gently tug on his limp weener. Like that we both fell fast asleep.
More to come ...
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