Date: Mon, 5 Jun 2017 18:01:04 +0000
From: Zack McNaught <zackmcnaught@hotmail.com>
Subject: Six Weeks with Jack Chapter 5

Author's notes:

(1) All this is written in British English. Hence, arse (ass), willy
(penis), wank (masturbate), pants (underwear), fanny (vulva).

(2) There is a historical inaccuracy - the Nintendo game, Super Mario
World, was not released for the SNES console in the UK until 9 months or so
after this story takes place. Please forgive me for warping that little bit
of reality.

(3) Part of this story (but by no means all) is accurate to real life, and
it is written about my youth, and so rather than using my alter-ego, Zack,
I've used my real name throughout.

Anyway, enough of that - on with the story.


Six Weeks with Jack, by Zack McNaught

Chapter 5

Waking in the morning next to him wasn't exactly the stuff of dreams,
though. His breath stank, and he was all hot and sweaty and draped over me,
and I really, really needed a piss. So, I disentangled myself, climbed over
his hot body and found a pair of shorts (not even realising they were his)
and went for a wee.

My mum was just getting up when I came out of my room, and though she gave
me a strange look, she said nothing about the fact I was clearly in Jack's
clothes. If she did suspect anything was going on, she didn't say it.

"I want Jack to go home for a couple of days," is what she actually
said. "He's been here non-stop for a week now, and I want him to spend some
time with his grandma. And I want us to spend time together, too."

My heart sank. I wanted to argue, and perhaps if Jack and I hadn't been up
to anything together I might have done. But I felt far too guilty to
attract attention to the closeness that had grown up between us. No, it was
far safer to appear unconcerned, and so I did just that.

Jack wasn't any happier about the idea than I was, but he was just as
worried as I was about getting caught, and when I explained my logic to
him, he agreed, and was similarly sanguine, on the surface at least. Behind
my mother's back he gave me an anguished look, and raced back for one more
sloppy little kiss, before heading back to his grandma's disconsolately.

- - -

The next couple of days could have been really difficult. All I wanted to
do was hang around with Jack, but I couldn't. I was an eleven year old boy,
though, and that comes with certain advantages, like a brain which far too
easily forgets things.

Mum had planned a whole raft of activities for our couple of days, and
though I felt guilty every time I found I'd enjoyed myself without Jack
about, it really was fun, and by the end of the second day I found myself
sitting chatting to mum over dinner in TGI Fridays (hey, back then it was
still sort of cool!) and not thinking about him once, for several hours.

It couldn't last, though. I couldn't forgo his warm smile, his loving
embrace, the softness of his skin, the way he touched me. Not for long. In
the car on the way home that second evening, as we drove past Mrs Brown's
house, there he was in the window of the spare room, looking down on
us. When he saw me, he put his hand over his heart, and suddenly I knew I
had to see him, to be close to him. He looked so forlorn that I almost
burst into tears.

Something had to be done. I wasn't going to let him languish there like a
prisoner, and I started to hatch a plan to see him. OK, so I was eleven,
and not exactly James Bond, but I still had an idea.

Telling mum I was tired and wanted to go to bed - which would have been
true but for the pressing desire to see my boyfriend - I retired to my room
to collect the things I would need and put my plan into action.

First was a torch, but not just any torch - it was a very thin one with a
highly directed beam. It was something my dad had brought back from a
conference once. He'd explained that it was used for inspecting inside some
piece of machinery or other, but honestly I wasn't listening. All that
mattered now, though, was that it fitted my plan.

Next was pencil and paper for a note. I wrote very carefully, and had to
remind myself not to put anything too revealing in there (such as the fact
that I missed him and wanted to kiss him, for example). In the end, it just
said,

PLAY HOUSE. 10:00.

It didn't need to say any more. He would understand immediately - the play
house was in my garden, but could be reached without having to go through
my house, because there was a little path which ran down the backs of the
gardens. You could get right into the play house from the path, because the
tree it was in could be climbed from the other side. Ten o'clock was half
an hour away, so Jack had that long to find a way out of his house and
across to mine, two doors down.

The last part of the plan was delivery, but I had that sorted, no
problem. The window of my room overlooked the flat roof of our garage
extension, and it was possible (though perhaps not all that advisable) to
get across the small gap onto the roof from my window, and then on the
other side of the garage use the wooden frame of our tall side gate to
climb down to the ground. I'd done it a few times, although the last time
I'd ended up in a lot of trouble when my dad caught me.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, and desperate I was. So I
opened the window, climbed out in my socks, and winced as I made my way
across the gravel my dad had, in his wisdom, put on the flat roof. From
there, I got down to ground level, and quickly made my way along the road
to Mrs Brown's house. The curtains were shut, and there was a dim light on
in Jack's room - I knew that meant he was probably in bed, so there was a
chance he might already be asleep, or at the very least looking the other
way. There was one, small hope, though - the curtains had been left a
little ajar, to let air from the open window into the room during the hot
summer night.

Taking out my torch and my note, I made doubly sure there was no-one around
to see me, and then pointed the torch at the crack in the curtains and
turned it on. Thinking that I had to catch his attention, I flashed the
light on and off a couple of times, and then waited for what seemed like
minutes, but was probably only a handful of seconds. Just when I thought I
would have to abandon the plan, the curtains twitched, and in the light
spilling from the room, Jack's face appeared.

He wore a confused expression, until he saw who it was trying to get his
attention, at which point a broad grin broke out. Immediately, I opened the
note and shone the torch onto it, but it was clear from his knitted brow
that he couldn't make out what I'd written. I was getting a bit desperate
by this point, but Jack was a smart cookie, and with hand gestures he told
me to wait. I switched off the torch while he was gone, and felt a bit of a
fool to be standing out there in very last of the day's light.

He was back quickly, holding up a pair of old binoculars. So clever! I
shone the light on the note again, and he looked through his binoculars,
and then put them down, giving me the thumbs up and an even wider grin.

Success! I raced back to my house, clambered up over the gate and climbed
back through my window. I waited impatiently for as long as I could manage,
and then with all the casualness I could muster, I put into play the very
final step of my plan. Grabbing a book from my bookcase, I wandered
downstairs.

"Oh, hello," mum said, when she saw me standing in the doorway to the
living room. "I thought you were going to bed."

"I couldn't sleep after all. Mum, the stars are really bright tonight. Can
I go out to the playhouse and look for constellations?"

With that I brandished my beloved star atlas, and knew instantly from the
look in mum's eyes what the response would be; after all, she'd studied
astrophysics at university, and she knew full well how much I loved staring
up at the night sky.

"Of course you can, love. Look, I'm going up to bed soon, I'm tired out
from all the fun we had today. Don't stay up too late, and lock the door
when you get back in, OK?"

I nodded and gave mer a warm smile, then grabbed my coat from the peg,
slipped on my battered trainers, and confidently left by the back door.

My Timex Indiglo digital wristwatch (oh yes...) told me it was ten minutes
before the agreed time. Perfect, I thought - I'd be there waiting for
Jack. Except I had underestimated his eagerness to see me, and he was in
fact already there, hidden in the dark confines of the playhouse. There was
very little of the dusk light left, so I turned on the torch and pointed it
at the wall - the reflected glow gave us just enough light to see each
other by.

"Hi!" he whispered very loudly indeed in the silent night, and then covered
his mouth as he giggled excitedly. "My grandma was asleep in the living
room so I just snuck past her and out."

He was in his pyjamas, but with his coat over the top and trainers on
unsocked feet beneath, just like me.

I didn't respond with words, there wasn't time. I grabbed him to me in a
bear hug, making it quite apparent how much I'd missed him. He giggled
again, and hugged me back.

"How's it been?" I asked when we separated.

"Soooo boring! My grandma just doesn't do anything. At least you were doing
things with your mum."

I didn't want to admit how brilliant a time I'd been having, so I just
shrugged.

"It was OK, I suppose. How long can you stay out?" I asked him.

"All night if I want to. Grandma thinks I'm asleep in bed!"

"Won't she lock you out though?"

"No idea! If she does I'll just sleep in here."

"No, if she locks you out you just come and sleep with me, and then sneak
out really early in the morning."

"Oh, yeah! Good idea! So, does your mum know you're out here?"

"Yeah, but not with you. She thinks I've come out to look at the stars."

"Is that something you do, then? Look at stars?"

"Yeah, I know, it's not very cool or anything. But I like it."

"Tell me about them," Jack said, with a gentle smile.

"What?"

"Tell me about the stars. I want to know about them."

"But aren't we going to...? Y'know..."

"We can do it later. I want you to show me all the constellations."

And so, looking up at the star-filled sky through the hole where the
playhouse roof ought to have been (but for some high winds one autumn!), I
explained the sky to Jack. We sat leaning in to one another, heads almost
touching, as I pointed out Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, the Pleiades, Orion and
a host more. Jack listened in rapt silence. Eventually I, too, stopped
talking, and we just sat there leaning into one another. The only sound was
our gentle breathing, and the occasional cry of a barn owl.

I woke some time later. According to my watch it was nearly 2 a.m., and
Jack was gently snoring on my shoulder. It took some effort to rouse him,
and when I finally did he stared at me uncomprehendingly for some time as I
repeatedly tried to explain that he needed to go home.

Eventually I led him back to Mrs Brown's garden, and thankfully she'd left
the sliding patio door unlocked. A sleepy Jack stumbled over the threshold
and inside, then turned back and blew me a rather drunken-looking kiss, and
locked the door.

Blearily, I made me way back to my own house, unlocked the back door,
secured it behind me again and walked upstairs to fall into bed. I was
asleep in moments.

- - -

The next day, I was finally allowed to see Jack legitimately again, and not
a moment too soon! He arrived at my door at five past eight, and it looked
like he'd slept well after our nighttime sojourn, because unlike me he was
bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I, on the other hand, had only just dragged
myself out of bed, and was sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but my
shorts when he arrived.

Mum immediately announced that she was going up or a shower, and Jack
squeezed in next to me on the bench seat. I turned and gave him a hug,
which became a kiss, which ended up with his hands in my shorts playing
with my willy. We didn't really have time for a proper chance to mess
around, but the very fact we were doing it in my kitchen - his head on my
shoulder, eyes trained on my crotch while he frantically rubbed at me - was
enough to get me there in a flash, and I writhed and groaned and tried not
to knock over my bowl of cereal as all of a sudden I came. Afterwards, Jack
held his fingers up under my nose, and I could smell my own willy on them;
for some reason, I found it inordinately exciting.

Afterwards, we giggled at the insanity of what we'd done, and then we got
on with the job of being young boys and doing young boy things.

Mum had decided we needed an activity that afternoon, and so she bundled us
into the car and we headed off to town to go to the big leisure centre
there. When you're that age, three waterslides and waves every fifteen
minutes is just about the height of perfection for a day out.

When we got there and had paid, and were wandering through into the
changing rooms, I instinctively turned right to head towards the individual
cubicles. Jack, though, went the other way, towards the male and female
communal areas, and we both stopped and turned towards each other.

"I always use these," he said with a shrug.

"Oh. I don't like..."

"You mean, you don't want anyone to see you naked?" he asked with a grin.

"Not really, no."

"Come on, you can just get changed behind your towel."

Still not quite sure about it, but willing to go in there if Jack was, I
followed him.

It wasn't exactly packed in there, which was a relief. There were a couple
of dads with their kids - one with just a boy, the other with a boys and a
girl, but none of this kids older than about five - and there was one old
man on his own in the corner, who got changed facing the wall and didn't
look round once.

Jack was a lot braver than I was. Without a care in the world he stripped
down until he was completely naked, and then just stood there with his
trunks trying to untie the cord, with his willy flopping from side to
side. He obviously enjoyed being a bit of an exhibitionist, because
although he wasn't exactly stiff, his willy was definitely fatter than
normal, and had lifted away from his balls.

I noticed one of the dads checking him out, staring while his own kids
waited to be dried and dressed. He saw me looking, and hurriedly went back
to what he was supposed to be doing. I told Jack as we headed out to the
pool, and he just shrugged.

"I don't mind them looking," he said. "As long as they don't get all weird
about it. Anyway, I look at their dicks, too."

As strange as it sounds, it hadn't even occurred to me that getting changed
there was an opportunity to check out men's packages. It wasn't something
I'd been even remotely interested in, until I met Jack and we started
getting physical, and besides, I had been far too worried about keeping my
own immature body hidden, in case anyone laughed. But he was right, it was
an excellent chance to have a look what awaited us at puberty and beyond.

It turned out I would have a perfect opportunity to do just that when we'd
finished for the afternoon. I had spent the whole time getting increasingly
horny, and being around Jack didn't help. On the steps up to one of the
slides, for instance, he pushed down his trunks until half his backside was
exposed, and at the front his dick was barely contained. Boom! Instant
erection for me, which I was grateful could be relatively well hidden in my
baggy trunks.

So, by the time we got back to the changing rooms, I was absolutely gasping
for it. I was really surprised to find that I didn't have a stiffy when I
pulled open my trunks, but somehow it had gone soft and stayed that way. It
didn't stop me having butterflies in my tummy, though.

When we got in there, I was almost a little disappointed to find it as
empty as it was. There was only one man in there - he looked as though he
was younger than our parents, and he had big muscles, which were bulging
from having just been swimming. He was sitting naked on a bench with a
towel over his head, dying his hair.

It wasn't only my eyes drawn to him - Jack was openly staring, and grabbing
at his dick through his trunks. I could see that he was already hard. We
dropped our bags on the bench opposite the man, and started to get
undressed.

Jack was a little more coy this time, only showing his backside to the room
as he dropped his trunks facing the wall. With my towel over my head drying
my hair, I checked out the man. He was staring straight at Jack, and he had
stood up, exposing himself. I was enraptured - his dick looked massive. It
was long and uncut, and was definitely getting hard.

I glanced back at Jack, who had now bent forward to dry his ankles, and was
exposing his pink little hole to the man, with his tight scrotum
beneath. The man couldn't have seen his dick, because I could see from my
angle that it was totally hard, and up against his tummy. I glanced back at
the man, who was now openly stroking his dick. Jack looked backwards
underneath his arm, and then shot me a lightning grin.

As if it was completely normal, he turned to face me, and started chatting
about what we'd been up to in the pool, and I tried to act as normally as I
could. But Jack's little stiffy was pointing straight at me, and now in
full view of the man across the way, and it was really hard to concentrate.

The man had sat down by now, with his dick jutting up from his lap. He
openly played with it, paying no heed to the fact we could see him. Jack
reached down and pulled on the tip of his foreskin, stretching it out, and
I heard a pained groan from over on my left. The man had shoved to towel in
his lap, and was writhing and groaning.

He left in a hell of a hurry after that, leaving Jack and I to snigger to
each other.

"Does that happen a lot?" I asked him, when we were alone.

"No, hardly ever! Can't believe he just did that."

"Do you think he was a pervert?"

"Yeah, definitely!" Jack laughed. "He was nice though, not a nasty old
man. Did you see how big his willy was?"

"Oh yeah," I said with a shiver. "It was so long and fat. D'you think he
did his stuff in the towel?"

"Yep. Dirty pervert!"

- - -

That was that for our visit to the swimming pool, but it wasn't the end of
the story. That evening, the event popped into my mind again, and I started
giggling.

"I was just thinking about you being sexy and showing off for that man at
the pool," I said, when Jack asked me what I was laughing at.

"Oh, yeah," he said in his best breathless sexy voice, and then stood up,
walking over to my hi-fi. The first CD of the latest Now! compilation was
in the CD player, and he turned it on, going straight to track 3 - the
remix of You Got The Love, by Candi Statton. As the music began to play,
Jack began to dance, and he was suddenly showing a side I'd never before
seen. This was camp Jack. Sensual Jack. Sexy Jack.

He started to do a little striptease for me. The t-shirt was first to go,
but only once he'd slowly lifted it and teased me with glimpses of his hard
abs. He twirled it around his head and then flung it across the room to
land in my face. It smelled strongly of him, and my dick gave an
involuntary lurch in my pants. Since when did just the smell of him get me
stiff?

He was only wearing shorts and pants at this point, but even so he managed
to drag out the dance. The shorts were lowered oh so slowly, at the back
first, and then the waistband was dragged down over a very obvious lump at
the front of his cotton boxers. These, too, were launched across the room,
though nowhere near as accurately as the t-shirt had been.

Then he was left only in his baggy cotton boxers. They wouldn't ever be
considered sexy, but my God, with the lump of his dick tenting out the
front they turned me on. By now I was watching with my mouth wide open,
panting slightly, and with my hand in my crotch kneading and tugging at my
little stiffy. Jack had gone from playfully sexy to downright filthy,
swaying his hips, edging down the waistband of his boxers until I could see
the start of his crack at the back, and the entrances to the shallow
valleys of his groin at the front. The elastic was now right on top of the
root of his willy, and his powerful erection pushed a fold of cloth up
beyond it.

He came over to me now, grabbing my head in his hands and rubbing his cloth
covered stiffy in my face. The sensation was indescribable - I could feel
the heat of his little rod through the fabric, and smell his unique sent,
too. He was musky, sweaty, but also a little boy still, so the odour was
biscuity, and tinged with the faintest hint of old wee. The feeling of it
rubbing back and forth over my nose, and then a moment later gracing my
lips was all too much for me.

Without imagining the consequences, or asking his consent, and certainly
without thinking too hard about it in case I changed my mind, I reached up
and freed his raging hard-on, pushing his boxers to the floor. Then, with
both of my hands firmly grasping his round little arse, I pulled his willy
into my mouth, and sucked.

The reaction was instantaneous. Jack gasped, and pushed himself up on
tiptoes, and then grabbed the back of my head and shoved his dick as far
inside as he could. I kept up the suction as he pulled back, then thrust in
again, and then over and over, building a faster and faster rhythm, until
he was fucking my mouth for all he was worth.

I was salivating like mad at the taste of him - meaty, salty-skinned, all
boy - and his willy made obscene squishing sounds as it pistoned in and out
of my lips. His panting was a staccato rhythm above me - a little gasp for
each forward thrust - and I realised that the person I could hear moaning
was me. I needed the feel of his silk-wrapped iron bar so badly.

It was no surprise at all when he came. His stomach had been clenching and
quivering for half a minute already, so when he went back on tip-toes,
grabbed me even harder than before and shoved his whole dick in my mouth as
deeply as he could, I knew he was there. He held still there for what
seemed like ages, but was probably only a couple of seconds, and then
suddenly his willy started kicking in my mouth; once, twice, three times.

I tasted his cum, slipping and sliding across the top of my tongue like
salty, warm butter. It mingled with my saliva and I let it slip down my
throat without ever considering spitting it out. It was Jack's, and
therefore deserving of the appropriate attention.

He pushed me away now, and fell down on the bed next to me with his arm
over his eyes, and gently panted as he recovered. I watched his damp,
glistening prick slowly deflate, until it lay dormant across his
hip. Another, much smaller bead of semen slipped out of the puckered mouth
of his foreskin and dripped onto his skin, leaving a dangling trail where
it had come from.

Eventually, he removed the arm and opened his eyes, and there was a look of
wonder on his face.

"I can't believe you just did that for me!" he breathed. "That was insane!
What was it like?"

I just shrugged. Even after all we'd been through and all we'd shared, I
still didn't want to admit that I had really enjoyed it. So much so, in
fact, that I'd already had my own little dry shakes in my pants, at about
the same time his willy was wildly kicking about in my mouth. I hardly even
had to touch myself.

"Do you... do you want me to, y'know, do you now?" he asked. But I knew it
was only from a sense of duty, not a desire to have his lips around my
stiffy, so I demurred, and suggested that instead we try to crack the
latest ghost house which was giving us trouble in Super Mario.



End of Chapter 5

zackmcnaught@hotmail.com