In the dark, Jim could find the boy only by touch; silky hair under his nervous fingers; little panted breaths against his face; small hands holding fast to Jim's naked shoulders.
The boy had gone to bed in only pajama pants and Jim caressed his exposed side. The boy responded, pressing against Jim and delivering short, wet pecks to his neck. Leaning down, Jim kissed the boy's forehead lightly. He could scarcely believe he was being so tender, when every voice in his head screamed for him to rip the boy's clothes to shreds and ravish him with animal lust.
But the boy was so delicate, so enchanting in his first foal-like steps to love, that Jim could not help but respond in kind.
The boy's best friend lay in Jim's own room with a fresh load of Jim's essence in his contented rear end. So hard had the friend screamed his pleasure while Jim vigorously reamed him that the man was not surprised to find the guest room's occupant awake when he came in.
Now it was three in the morning, and Jim was totally hard, eager to take his second boy in as many hours. He was naked, having never bothered to get dressed after his earlier adventures in boy sex. His leaking dick had already soaked through much of the boy's pajama crotch. The boy, it seemed, did not sleep in underwear. Through thin, wet silk, Jim felt the hard little boy dick against his own man-sized one.
When Jim traced his fingertips down the boy's spine, the boy gasped and closed his eyes, head back. Jim kissed him on each eyelid. Then the tip of his nose. And finally the soft, moist lips.
Jim's dick jerked at this electric touch. He felt a hair's breadth away from cumming all over the boy's pajamas. As sexy as it felt to rub against the boy through them, it was time for them to go. He reach to the elastic band, slipping the garment down the boy's curved butt.
The boy's small hand clamped his, stopping him.
Jim Eckerd had always considered himself a coward. It was not at all obvious why. After all, he was certainly a physical man. Despite not having the build for it, he had played sports at school and gotten into many fights. He had collected his share of bruises and scars through life. Every once in a while he picked up a new one - at his karate class especially.
And he was not afraid of public speaking either. In fact, he lived for the rush of facing an audience. Why else had he become a teacher?
Despite his opinion of himself, Jim Eckerd had not done a cowardly thing in twenty years. That changed the minute he stepped into his seventh grade science class on the first day of the school year. He had psyched himself up for his usual First Morning Entrance, the one he used to make an impression on the new students. Deep breath, shoulders back, spine straight and a brisk walk to the front of the room where he would deliver a smiling, but authoritative, `Good Morning Class'. This time he faltered half way through the `good morning'. He did not notice if the `class' even made it out his mouth.
Two rows in, slightly to the left, a small boy with brown hair and shiny eyes leaned forward in puzzlement.
"Breathe," Jim told himself. "Breathe, for Christsake."
Two deep breaths and he was ready again.
"Good morning, class." A perfect delivery. The brown haired boy seemed satisfied and sat back.
The first morning of class is a ritual. The greeting, followed by introductions and the teacher writing his name on the chalkboard. (Even as he did it, Jim reflected on how useless a gesture this was. Like the kids even cared how `Eckerd' was spelt.) Then the teacher spends time trying to convince his new charges that he is a nice guy, but still to be taken seriously. Especially his homework. The final part of the sequence was asking the student to introduce themselves. Most just mumbled their way through it, convinced that the teacher would not remember it anyway.
Now as each child stood in turn, Jim's cowardice kicked in full steam. Soon it would be the small, brown haired boy's turn. The one who had not stopped looking straight at Jim with a medical student kind of detachment since he walked in.
He stood to say his name.
"Robin Killian." The name echoed through Jim's head like a bullet. He stumbled back.
"Um, excuse me class, I need to... leave... for a minute. I'll be right..."
He took the twenty yards to the washroom in 2 seconds. Banging through the doors he found 3 eight graders huddled around a smoking cigarette.
The one who saw him first expertly flicked it into a nearby stall. Jim did not care. He turned to the mirror, surprised to find that he looked just as he had that morning. Jim searched his face, looking for signs of the boy he had once been. His eyes were not as clear as they had been at twelve. Certainly the innocence was gone. His hairline had suffered, though nowhere near noticeably to anyone but himself. Certainly his blond hair was not any thinner. And he was nowhere near as skinny.
The three boys slipped through the door.
Jim splashed water over his face. He could not understand what had happened. But as surreal as it all seemed to him he was sure he was going to walk right back into the classroom and conduct a normal first day lesson. Teach them to tell a beaker from a flask.
The last wry though he had as he stepped out the door was, "This must be one of those LSD flashbacks they're always going on about." It certainly felt weird enough.
The class was quiet when he came in.
"Um, so where were we?"
"The new kid, sir," said Lowell, a fair, dark-haired boy with a definite effeminate lisp.
"Yes. Right, um. Robin."
The brown haired boy looked puzzled again. He was certainly cute when he did that. Like a puppy with a slipper.
"My name's Rusty, sir. Rusty Kahn."
"Oh, right. Rusty. Nice to have you with us."
Jim sat at his desk when the three o'clock bell went. First day paperwork rose to the ceiling on it. The class had lasted another hour after Jim's return and Rusty - and everything else - had been quite normal. This was Jim's first chance to reflect on his day, having had a full schedule - five classes - during the day. His mind sent him back twenty years, to an all too vivid memory of touches and whispers, yet it was Rusty's face he saw. And as always, when he remembered those days, his heart felt like crying and singing at the same time.
Twelve weeks passed easily. Every Monday morning, Jim awoke with great enthusiasm for his first class. Rusty was a good student. Quiet, but with an earnest air of enquiry about him - when he did speak it was mostly probing questions about the day's lesson . He was definitely going to be a good scientist. Rusty's lab partner and new best friend was Bish - Lowell Bishop. He hated to be called Lowell. Bish was thin and given to girlish mannerisms. "Probably gay," Jim decided.
Bish and Rusty often came to visit Jim outside of class. They read many science books, and often came to Jim to get concepts cleared up. Could scientists really clone dinosaurs? Could scientists really clone humans? Why was time travel only possible forwards, but not backwards? Could they build their own laser with stuff from Home Depot?
As their friendship grew, Jim began to take Rusty more seriously as a person. Whatever connection he had to Jim's past seemed less and less important. As for Bish, well, Bish scared him. The boy was definitely hot, definitely homosexual and definitely trying to seduce Jim. Even with Rusty there, Bish never lost a chance to hold on to Jim's forearm or thigh. And he seemed to be constantly picking up pencils from the floor, leaning over in his short pants. Jim had never been attracted to effeminate men or boys. But Bish was only just femme enough to be noticeable. For the most part he looked and acted like a regular boy. Jim wondered if the `faggyness' was just another tool of enticement. It was certainly working. He had never been this close to breaking his rule about actually having sex with boys before.
One Sunday afternoon Jim found the boys spying on him. They were rather inept at it. Walking towards the shed in his backyard to get his lawnmower, Jim heard giggling near the fence. The boys were wrestling in a clump of bushes, Rusty lay facedown on the ground, a pair of binoculars outstretched before him, while Bish kneeled over him, pulling Rusty's shorts down and quietly shouting, "Give it back, dammit, or I'll strip you naked."
"Trouble, boys?" asked Jim.
They both looked around startled. Rusty slipped the binoculars behind his back with one hand and pulled up his pants with the other.
"Hi, Mr. Eckerd," said Bish, unfazed.
"Hello Bish." Jim continued looking as Rusty struggled to get his pants up.
"I suppose you're wondering what we're doing here."
"Actually, it seemed pretty clear to me."
Rusty looked worried.
Bish continued, "We wanted to talk to you about the Science fair."
Rusty brightened up. "Yeah, we want to take part."
Jim pointed, "And you just happened to bring along a pair of binoculars?"
"That's part of our idea."
"Oh? `Advanced methods of peeking in windows'? It should be quite a project. You'll need to add a ladder though."
They boys would not confess, however. Rusty said, "We figured we could use the lenses to demonstrate light bending or something..."
Bish added, "Yeah, we figured you'd know something cool we could do with it."
Jim picked up the binoculars. "And whose five hundred dollar binoculars are these that you're planning on tearing apart in your quest for knowledge?"
"My Dad's," said Rusty, confidently.
"Boys, the fair isn't til next semester. I only mentioned it in class the other day, because I wanted you to get some idea of what you might be interested in doing."
"Yeah. Duh," said Bish.
"I see your point. I guess you being so early threw me, is all. Well, I still don't see the need for you to come out here and track me down. Let's talk about this tomorrow."
"No," said Rusty. "We need to know now. We want to make sure you send us to the fair, not Alicia and Ken."
"Yeah," added Bish. "They were going on about how Ken's dad was gonna help them get a great project together and they'd get to represent the school."
"Well boys, it seems I have misjudged you. Why don't you come inside?"
They scampered in ahead of Jim, fighting each other through the door.
"Nice place you got here Mr. Eckerd," said Rusty.
"You live here alone?" asked Bish. Rusty elbowed him. Bish elbowed back.
"At the moment, yes. I live alone."
Three cokes and four sandwiches later, they sat together out by the pool.
"Rusty, Bish, I'm glad you guys are so interested in the fair. I want you to know that I'll definitely help you, but I'm also going to be helping Alicia and Ken just as much."
The boys groaned.
"C'mon," said Jim. "Just because I like you two, doesn't mean I'm going to treat you any better than my other students."
Rusty's head lifted and he started to say something, then stopped.
"Besides," Jim added "We don't pick the representatives for the school just like that. We'll have an in-house science fair first. The first place winner gets to represent the school.
"So what's this idea of yours?"
The boys turned Jim's garage into their workshop. They came over on weekends and turned the place into a mess - which they always cleaned up. Jim helped them along with their mirrors, lenses and laser pointers. Strangely enough, their conversations while working together strayed from the work itself. For the first time Jim was getting to know the boys as something other than students. He took them out for ice-cream and to the Go-Kart course. They complained to him about how their parents were too busy most of the time. They planned how to get Bish's big brother to stop bullying him. They swam. They played baseball in the park. Often, the boys slept over.
By the time Christmas break arrived, Jim was certain he was in love with Rusty. The kid was just so cute. He never said much, but he was spirited and enjoyed standing up for his beliefs. He also enjoyed it when Jim hugged him or tousled his hair.
Jim was also certain that he wanted to fuck Bish's brains out. They were a curious triangle.
That Sunday, the boys left with their usual "See you tomorrow."
"What?" asked Jim. "School's closed boys. This is my vacation."
"Well, sure," said Rusty, worried "But we're still gonna get to come over and see you aren't we?"
Bish gave Rusty a sympathetic glance. Then he directed a stony look at Jim. "We still need to work on the project you know."
Jim felt like a louse. "Right. Tomorrow guys."
They were there at 7:23 exactly. Jim knew that because that was what his clock's large, red digital display read when the boys' loud shouts and yells woke him up. They allowed him to get breakfast first.
As he reached for the morning paper, coffee in hand, he noticed Bish sprawled out on his couch with the comics section. "Bish, at least let me read my morning paper in peace!"
"Aw c'mon Mr. Eckerd. I'm saving these for you. You'll need a laugh after you're done reading the real news. Palestine and Israel, Democrats and Republicans. Ben Affleck and J-Lo."
"What's wrong with J-Lo?" asked Jim, settling for his incomplete newspaper.
"She's totally wrong for him," said Bish. "If you ask me he should've stayed with Matt Damon."
"What do you mean stayed?"
"Look, you can't tell me that two guys who're best friends since elementary school have never gotten it on."
For a moment dark memories clouded Jim's mind, but then he smiled. "You mean like you and Rusty?"
"Yeah like me an- No wait. That's not what I meant. I mean-"
Jim laughed. Rusty seemed alarmed.
"Whatever," Bish dismissed Jim. `Ben and Matt' is still a lot better sounding than `Ben and J-Lo'." He went back to his comics.
Jim and Rusty ate.
"Mr. Eckerd?" said Rusty.
" I finished that book last night."
Jim had been lending Rusty books all term. This last one was about a boy named Ender and a war. "How was it?"
Jim put down his newspaper. He looked over at Rusty, who had the book out before him staring at the cover. "That's actually a very common reaction to that story."
"Did you cry?" asked Rusty.
"No. In fact I was very happy."
"But what he went through, it was so... so..."
"Well, I have no doubt that Ender had a rough time, but he came through alright in the end, I think. He had friends, he had his freedom."
"But he never saw his parents again. And he could never go back home. Plus he would have to live his whole life knowing what he did.
"And he didn't have anyone to love." Rusty added.
"He had his sister."
"No, I mean like a lover. He seemed so lonely the whole book, I figure he deserved someone."
"Well, he was only twelve. That's kind of early."
"No it isn't!" Rusty seemed offended.
Jim looked at Rusty. The deep, brown eyes. The neatly combed hair. And the tender lips. All in a face that was sensitive and intelligent. With a careful hand, Jim stroked the boy's hair. He said, "No, I guess it isn't."
That Thursday, Bish came over alone. Rusty was on a trip with his family. Bish had other things in mind besides work.
"Lets swim," he said to Jim.
"You go ahead. I've got papers to grade."
"School's over, Mr. Eckerd."
"For you. I still have to go over those reports on our field trip from last week."
"If I give you a blowjob, can I get an A?"
But the boy was long gone, whooping as he ran for the pool.
"Hey, Mr. Eckerd!" he shouted a minute later.
"What is it, Bish?"
"Come help me."
Jim found him stark naked on his stomach along the side of the pool.
"Where're your clothes?"
"I'm going swimming; I don't need no clothes. Could you rub some sunscreen on me?"
"Do you really think it would be that easy to seduce me?"
The boy rolled onto his side, letting his hand drape over his thigh and giving Jim a full view of himself. "I think I already have."
"Then why am I standing here, fully dressed?"
"That's a very good question. Why are you still dressed? You could be having your way with me right now."
"Bish, I really don't think -"
"Look. We both know you're into me. I figure you're probably afraid that the New Mexico State Police are going to bust through that door the second you touch me. But we both want this. There's no reason we shouldn't have it. If you've got some moral hang-up about it all, just stick to the script and put the lotion on me. That's not a crime."
Jim stared at the boy. Then at the lotion. Then he knelt near the boy.
"Start with my shoulders," the boy said, going back onto his stomach.
Jim squirted cream onto his hand, slathered it in his palms and then slid his hands onto the boy's smooth shoulders. His hands moved easily, the feel of the boy under them, costing Jim his breath. He took his time though; easing his rubbing down the boy's thin arms and then his back. Soon he was at the boy's slim waist. He hesitated.
"Go on," said Bish. "My doctor touches me there all the time. Why not you?"
So, Jim slid one palm over each buttcheek. The boy gave a contented sigh. Jim gained the second stiffest erection of his life.
"You want to do me right now, don't you?" asked the boy, mischievously.
"So what're you waiting for? Stick it in me, already."
"That's hardly romantic."
"Who cares about romantic? I want a good fucking. And you want to give it to me."
"But, can you...?"
"Well, you'd hardly be my first. Just use your fingers to get some cream up in there first."
Jim put the bottle down for the last time. The boy's pucker resisted, but seemed to take his index finger comfortably enough. Emboldened, Jim eased a second finger in. The boy stiffened.
"Let me up," the boy said, "this concrete is hurting my cock."
While Jim undressed, the boy stood, his small dick rock hard. He got up and walked over to the rubber-coated diving board. Bish lay flat on it, his head over the edge; his legs dangling on either side.
Jim eased Bish's anus apart with his thumbs, then plunged them in as far as they could go.
"Ooooohhh, yeaaaaaaah," said Bish.
Jim lay over the boy and pressed his cockhead against the boy's opening. He supported himself with his hands on the edge of the board, under the boy's armpits. His feet gripped the edge of the pool behind him.
"Oooohhh. C'mon, Mr. Eckerd. Let me have it."
With no more waiting, Jim thrust straight into Bish's ass, sure that the boy could take it.
"Aaahhhhhh. Oh my God!. Wow!" Jim experienced the tight warm inside of Bish's ass for the first time and immediately decided it would not be the last.
As for Bish, he seemed to be quite excited at having the man's large organ in him. "Oh fuck! Yeah! Ohhhh. Ooooooh!"
Jim let himself sink in, savoring the moment. But Bish could not wait. The boy's ass muscles squeezed his shaft, expectantly. Jim pulled himself back and then slid right up into Bish again.
"Ohhhhhhh. Yeahhhh, Mr. Eckerd. Fuck me!"
Unable to hold back Jim vented years of sexual frustration into the boy, thrusting rapidly into the juicy boyhole, feeling the smooth yet gripping insides massage every inch of himself. As he gained a steady rhythm, Jim finally got his mind into focus. OH SHIT. Here he was, after years of leaving boys alone, having sex with a kid in his backyard swimming pool.
A noisy kid. Bish undoubtedly liked sex. He moaned and groaned constantly as Jim pumped his ass. Jim knew he should be concerned about the boy's loud chanting of "Oh yesss. Yessss! Fuck me more Mr. Eckerd, fuck me harder. Ohhhhhhh. Aaaaaahhhh." But it turned him on so much to hear the boy demanding that Jim pound him more. To Hell with the neighbors.
Jim grabbed the Bish by the hips, holding the small butt still as he forced his cock into it again and again. Soon he would be cumming, and so too it seemed would the boy. He was louder now.
"Aaaaaahhh! Aaaahhhgghhh! Oooohhhh, yeahhhh!"
Stirred on by the boy's cries Jim sought to strike even deeper in the boy's tunnel. Again the boy's volume increased. As did his incoherency. The world seemed to come into better focus with every stroke Jim made. The bright blue pool water under them sparkled in the morning sun. The milky white skin of the boy's butt enticed him even more to plunder it.
Then the boy's orgasm hit. Bish's ass muscles went wild on Jim's cock and the man screamed into orgasm, pouring out all his need and want into the small boy under him. Even as the orgasm receded, Jim kept on thrusting, craving more of the sweetness in which he found himself embedded. Only the softened state of his equipment forced him to stop.
He sat back, pulling the boy to him.
"Wow," said Bish. "Let's do that again!"
"Shhh." Jim placed a finger across the boy's lips. With his other hand, Jim held the boy against his chest. The man's soft cock nestled against Bish's butt. With his right hand, Jim pressed the boy's head to his shoulder and stroked his dark hair. Jim bent his head so his nose grazed the top of the boy's head. Then he kissed the boy there.
They stayed like that for a while. Eventually Jim squeezed Bish's forearm. "Thanks Bish."
Bish did not answer. Jim figured the boy had taken the mood of the moment to heart and was savoring the silence. However, he soon felt the boy's thin body shaking against him. He looked down, and saw tears leaking down Bish's cheeks. Jim wanted to ask him if he was alright; if he was comfortable with what they had done. But something in the boy's face compelled him to keep silent. The boy swung his legs around and embraced Jim. They held each other close.
They had no more sex that day. Instead, Jim drove them to the mountains and they hiked to the top of Jim's favorite hill.
When they got home it was already dark. They found Rusty waiting in the driveway.
"Where were you guys?"
"Well," said Bish, "You decided to take a day off so we did too."
"You want a shower, Bish?" asked Jim.
"Lemme talk to Rusty first. You go ahead."
The boys went off to the garage.
Later, when Bish had gone off to take his shower, Rusty approached Jim. He said, "We called our parents. We're gonna sleep over tonight."
"You want to rent a movie or get some work done?"
"Actually, I got a lot of work done while you guys were out. I..."
"Well, I needed some more padding for the projector so I went looking around in your storage bin. I didn't mean to snoop or anything, I just saw it and-"
"This." From his jacket, Rusty removed a picture frame. The photograph showed two boys, about thirteen years old, in blue school uniforms, their blazers open and ties loosened. They were on a sailboat, arms around each other's necks and grinning maniacally at the camera. The boy on the left was wiry, with long, blond bangs. The boy on the right was... Rusty.
Rusty said, "After I saw it I just couldn't put it back. I mean why would you have a strange photograph of me? And what's weird is that that's me, but I don't remember taking that photograph and I don't know the boy with me-"
"You do know him."
"He's about twenty years older now, is all."
Rusty looked up from the photo. "That's you?"
"Then how can I be in it? This is really weird, Mr. Eckerd."
"That's not you, Rusty. Look at the ears. They're a little larger than yours. Pointier too. And this boy has freckles."
"Who is he?"
Jim Eckerd met Robin Killian when he was in eighth grade at Saint Savior's Elementary School. Robin's family had just moved back from England, where his father worked. The cute, brown haired boy was given a seat next to Jim and Jim took it upon himself to ease Robin into school life.
"What's it like in England?" Jim asked during lunch, later that day.
"Cold and wet, much of the time."
Jim found Robin's slight accent adorable. As well as the way he said things like `much of the time' instead of `most of the time'. Jim constantly asked questions about Robin's time abroad, just to hear him speak. Robin seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to.
"Usually when I enroll at a new school, I'm alone for weeks, before I find a friend. I'm glad you decided to speak with me."
Jim's heart ached at the thought of Robin being lonely. He could not bear to think of his new friend being unhappy. "No problem, dude. Hey, we have art today. You have drawing stuff?"
"No. I only just got my schedule." Robin pronounced it 'shedule'.
"Shedule. You know. Little piece of paper that tells you what to do and when to do it?"
"You mean skedule. There's a `k' sound in it."
"There isn't where I come from." Robin thought for a while. "But, I'm not there anymore, so I guess I better start speaking like an American again, abominable as that may be."
Jim knew the boy needed to sound more American if he was going to avoid being picked on. Still, he hoped the clipped, strange sounding accent did not fade too quickly. "Well, whatever," he said. "You can sit with me today and borrow my stuff."
Jim and Robin took to sitting together in every class they shared. Having lunch with Robin was something Jim particularly looked forward to each day. Each night Jim fell asleep thinking about Robin.
Of all Jim's friends, only Harold Percy did not take an instant liking to the new boy. Harold had been putting the moves on Tracy Moore for a few weeks and seemed upset that Tracy and Robin were spending so much time working on English assignments. Tracy had also told her friends that she thought Robin was `just too cute for words'.
Rusty asked, "Are you saying this kid was exactly like me?"
"No. I mean, no two people are alike. I have two friends who are identical twins and they're completely different people. Robin was quiet, like you, but he had a more philosophical bent. I still have some of his poetry lying around somewhere. He was useless with tools. And if it wasn't for me, he would have failed science that term, I'm sure."
"But he looked just like me?"
"Well, you've seen the picture."
"He has my initials. R-K."
"When I first met you, Rusty, I felt the same way, you do: like some great plot was unfolding. But now, I'm sure it's all just coincidence."
Rusty searched Jim's face. "So what happened to this Robin guy?"
Jim wondered, just how much he should tell Rusty. All of it, he decided. After all, it was holding back that had caused all the problems then.
"Don't do that, you flippin' wanker!"
Jim stared at Robin. "What'd you call me?"
"A wanker, one who wanks."
"What the Hell is that?"
"Look, just put the pilot back in the plane."
On the desk near Jim, Robin's Cobra Commander action figure was enthusiastically buttfucking one of the G.I. Joe soldiers. Robin had just come out of his shower, and found the scene appalling.
Jim asked, "You sure? Cuz they started doing that all on their own, you know. I can't help it if you got gay toys."
With one hand still on the towel around his waist, Robin rescued the distressed `Duke'.
Jim asked, "So what's a wanker?"
"Never mind that. What are you doing here anyways?"
"I came over to see if you wanted to go sailing with my family this weekend. What's a wanker?"
"You couldn't have called?" Robin asked sarcastically.
"I could have. But I didn't. What's a wanker?"
"Check the dictionary."
Jim attacked Robin toppling them both onto the bed. In a cartoonishly villainous voice, Jim said, "You shall tell me what I wish to know, Mr. Bond."
They wrestled on the bed, the feeling of Robin's warm body under him, encouraging Jim to tighten his bear hug. As Robin fought him off, they slid all over the bed.
"Wait! Wait! My towel's falling off. Stop."
"Yes, the ancient Chinese towel torture. Now you shall speak, or face insufferable humiliation."
Jim grabbed hold of the towel at Robin's waist. "Talk!"
The boys struggled over the piece of cloth, but despite Robin's best efforts, the strain was loosening the towel.
"Alright! Alright, I'll talk, damn you."
As Jim lay prone over his friend, he knew the towel must have come free since he felt Robin's dick against his hip. It was hard.
"What's a wanker?"
"In England a wanker is a useless, annoying person."
"Like what we call a jerk?"
"What's so funny?"
Robin said, "Well, you know what `jerking' is?"
"Well, I just realized it's the same as wanking."
"Really? Well, in that case, I apologize. You were right about me. I'm a first class, compulsive wanker."
Jim got up off of Robin.
"Wait-" said Robin, but it was too late. He was naked on top the towel, his hard boy dick pointed straight at the sky.
"Wow," said Jim. "Looks like you need a good wanking right now."
"Well, you're the wanker..." said Robin accusingly.
With the innocence of youth, Jim did not hesitate. He gently, but firmly got a hold of Robin's dick and squeezed it.
"Ooooooohhh," moaned Robin.
The other boy's flesh felt like living energy in Jim's hand. It was warm and cool, smooth and pulsing all at the same time.
Robin said, "Oh man, that feels so good."
Partly from curiosity and partly because he knew it would feel great for his friend, Jim started wanking him. Slowly at first to get a feel for it and then, as he grew accustomed to how the flesh moved under his fingers, faster and faster.
Robin kept moaning. "Oh, Jim this feels so great. It's so much better than doing it for yourself. You've got to try it."
"Would you do me?"
"Well, keep it down, we don't want your parents to interrupt us. And go lock the door."
Jim unbuttoned and then slipped of his jeans. He felt no shame in taking his jockey shorts off either. They knelt on the bed and held each other's handles. They took time to explore and get a good feel for each other. Each of them had just a few fine hairs above their cocks. Their balls were smooth and hairless. Jim's cock was larger, but not by much. The feeling of Robin's hand on his shaft sent shivers all over his body. If his stomach were to get any tighter he would have thrown up. Robin followed Jim's lead, using an easy grasp as they massaged up and down the length of their dicks.
While Jim's right hand busied itself with Robin's dick, his left explored the rest of the sexy boy: his smooth firm butt, slightly curved back, and lightly haired legs. Eventually he smoothed back Robin's hair from his face and admired how handsome his friend was. He had always thought so, but this was the first time he'd been able to just look at his face in open admiration. Robin's lips seemed particularly inviting, but for the first time in the day, Jim was not sure what he should do. Kissing occurred to him, but he dismissed the idea. That was for movie stars. One guy and one girl. Training told him that he and Robin would look ridiculous kissing each other. But the mental picture that formed said otherwise. He immediately orgasmed, spurting a thin stream of semen onto Robin's hand. As the pleasure overtook him his mind drifted and his eyes closed. He concentrated on simply enjoying the feeling the hand on his penis, forgetting any imagined kisses.
"That looked like fun," said Robin.
Jim was panting. "Oh. It was." Jim took time to catch his breath. "Here, lemme finish you," he said.
He pushed Robin down onto the bed and bent over the boy's dick. For the first time he gave it a visual inspection, as he wanked it. Both boys were circumcised, but Robin seemed to have had no scarring at all. The entire shaft was smooth. As he watched the head poking through his hand with each downstroke Jim felt an uncontrollable urge to take it into his mouth. He continued to stroke the lower shaft of Robin's cock and sucked on the head.
Jim smiled as much as he could. He licked at the cockhead, slurped on it and sucked it hard.
Robin came, spurting just a little bit of thin cream. It was salty and slimy. Jim swallowed it.
"How was that?" he asked Robin.
Robin lay still, staring at the ceiling.
"Sorry, Jim. I wasn't sure I was still alive after that."
"Heh. I know what you mean."
Rusty asked, "So you had sex with him?"
"Yes. We never considered it to be anything other than `playing around', but it was sex."
Jim looked at Rusty, to see what his reaction was. As usual, Rusty was deep in thought.
"Did you love him?"
That Friday, after school, they went sailing on Jim's family's boat. It was then that Jim's mom had taken their picture, as they set out along the coast. Jim and Robin shared a room. That night, after a long, enthusiastic session of dick sucking, they finally fell asleep.
Jim awoke in the early morning. Robin was already up, kneeling on the bunk as he stared out the porthole. Jim leaned against him, their naked bodies touching, and looked over Robin's shoulder. The sea was as smooth as a mirror and the descending full moon reflected off the surface as a perfect orb.
Resting his head on Robin's shoulders, Jim wrapped his hand around his friend. His hand brushed Robin's dick. It was stiff. Jim smiled and slid his fist around it.
Robin breathed in deeply. With now familiar ease, Jim stroked Robin's hard dick as he grazed his face along Robin's ear. Jim's own dick hardened into the cleft of Robin's ass. As their motion quickened, Jim found himself very stimulated by the feel of Robin's butt on his cock.
He stopped his wanking.
Robin turned to question him, and for the barest moment, their lips touched. Jim quickly backed off.
"Why'd you stop?" asked Robin in a whisper. They had their own cabin, but they still had to be very quiet.
Jim pressed his dick through the valley of Robin's buttcheeks. "I want to put this in you," he whispered back.
"Will it fit?"
"I think so."
"Okay, let's try it."
"Lemme make it slippery first."
Jim wet his fingertips and placed them over Robin's pucker. He spread his spit over the opening. Again and again he applied spit to the tender place. Finally his finger slipped right in.
Jim pulled his finger out. "Sorry, dude. I don't know why I asked you to do this. It seemed like a good idea at the time." He backed away, but Robin held him back.
"Well, it did hurt and I'm sure it'll hurt more, but it's a good hurt."
"I can't explain it better than that. Maybe after, I can do it to you, then you'll understand."
So Jim slipped his slick finger back in. He worked it around.
"Oohhhhhhhhhhh." said Robin.
More spit, more fingers, more working it around.
"You really like this?" asked Jim.
"I love it! How many fingers are you using?"
"Try your dick now."
Jim held Robin's dick in his hand, slowly stroking it. Robin braced the wall, with his hands on either side of the window. With his left hand, Jim guided his erect cock to his friend's anus.
When the tip made contact he adjusted it to the perfect position and eased into Robin's tight hole. Robin pushed back as the stiff cock entered. Their first and only fuck was a measured, burning affair. Jim saw no reason to hurry, especially since he knew he might hurt Robin. While the water shimmered before them, Jim slowly slid in and out of his best friend's tight hole. With each entry, they groaned softly and as he pulled out, each time, Robin whimpered.
Robin came twice, with Jim stroking his dick, Jim's tunneling cock in his ass keeping him hard.
The morning skies had just started their change from black to purple when Jim finally erupted. He held Robin tight, every bit of their skins touching as he came, thrusting and moaning, into Robin's ass. Yet, even with the terrific sensations on his cock, it was the memory of Robin's lips touching his that stayed in his mind through the whole peak of pleasure. With a few last spasms, Jim came down from his high. Both boys collapsed into bed, spooning.
"Next time," said Robin, "I get to do you."
"You're not answering the question..."
It was the simplest of comments, but it shattered whatever illusions Jim had been operating under:
"Hey, Jimmy," said Harold. "Tracy told me that all the girls think you're in love with Robin."
"What!" Jim sputtered. "No. No way, dude. He's just my friend, is all."
"Yeah. But you're always with him. Don't have time for your real friends anymore."
"Look, the kid's new. I'm just helping him fit in."
"He's been here nearly a term. He's fitted in already."
"Good," said Harold. "You gonna play football with us this weekend?"
Robin never played football. He liked soccer.
"Yeah, sure," said Jim.
As he walked home from school, Jim saw Robin waving at him from the library. He pretended he had not seen and kept walking. Jim was furious with Harold. If he wanted to make sure no one else got the wrong idea about him and Robin, then he would have to stop spending so much time with Robin. But he wanted to spend time with Robin. All his time. Every waking - and sleeping - minute. That made him think. Was he angry because people had gotten the wrong idea? Or because they had gotten the right one? He thought of Robin, who had brought him such happiness. Robin, with the perfect face and the perfect kissable lips... Oh good Lord! He was gay! The memories of fondling, wanking, sucking and fucking did not bother him. But the crystal clear memory of Robin's lips on his pierced through to his soul. He had wanted to kiss Robin that night on the boat. He had wanted to hold him close and press their mouths together just like the movie stars did. Movie stars in love. He had wanted to kiss Robin when they were wrestling on the bed the week before. He had wanted to kiss Robin -- really kiss him: long, hard and deep - since the day they met.
He was gay. What would his father say? His mother? The priests at school? Should he confess? Would God forgive him such a heinous crime?
Jim never invited Robin to go sailing or even to visit his house again. He never visited Robin's house either. From that day, he spent all his weekends playing in the park with his old friends. At school, he was always too busy to eat lunch with Robin.
Every once in a while, Jim caught sight of Robin looking at him from across the room. Jim would quickly look away, guilt and shame washing over him: first for what he was doing to his friend and lover and then for what he had done with him.
No thirteen year-old could have handled that situation well. And neither boy did. As soon as Robin got the idea that things were over, he stopped speaking to Jim. By Spring Break, he was gone. Back to cold, wet England.
Jim missed him terribly. Would continue to miss him for his entire life it turned out. Late at night, when his dick turned hard and Jim placated it with sinful hands, it was Robin's sweet image he saw before him: sun on his face; light, brown hair blown in the wind as they sailed the ocean together.
"You never forgot him?" asked Rusty.
"Never. I used to wish I could. Now, I'm glad I didn't."
"Rusty, what happened to Robin and I happened because of close-mindedness. Religions are man made, with rules designed to keep the powerful in control of the weak. Or gullible. I don't know how you feel about homosexuals. Now, that you know I'm gay, you'll be forced to figure that out. But since the days I embraced science, I've never feared for my soul. I'm glad I met Robin. I'm glad I still remember him."
"You still love him?"
"Then I don't think I can be your friend anymore." Rusty sobbed and ran for the guestroom.
Caught by surprise, Jim could not react in time. Rusty slammed the door shut as Bish emerged from the washroom.
"What did you say to him?" asked Bish, angry.
"I'm not sure. I told him the truth and he couldn't take it."
"Then you didn't tell him right. He lives for the truth."
"I..." but Jim gave up.
Bish banged on the door. "Rusty, it's Bish. I'm alone. Open the door."
Jim watched television for an hour and then went to bed.
Sometime after midnight, Jim's door opened and a small form made its way over to his bed.
Bish did not answer, but got into bed next to Jim and pressed up against him.
"I find fucking is easier that way."
"Well, I doubt there'll be any of that tonight. I'm not really in a sexy mood. How's Rusty?"
"He'll be okay. I talked to him."
"Was he upset because I told him I'm gay?"
"Look, it's nothing you have any control over, so just leave it. It'll work itself out."
Bish's hand snaked into Jim's shorts.
"Hey! I said cut that out."
"No, you said you weren't in the mood. I'm putting you in the mood."
"Look, I meant - Wait. You're a horny devil. Tell you what. If I fuck you, will you tell me what's bothering Rusty?"
"Sure, but you gotta fuck me good."
As he got undressed, Jim was actually pleased with the arrangement. He had accepted Bish's assurance that Rusty was going to be okay. After all, Bish had shown the utmost concern for the boy all term. So, with a clean conscience, Jim was ready to have some fun.
Bish said, "Lemme get you ready." Then he dove for Jim's already hard cock. The boy's mouth was magical. Expert. He licked and slurped and sucked like a pro. Jim would be unable to keep his side of the bargain, if he let the boy go on for much longer. He tapped Bish on the shoulder.
Wordlessly, the boy lay back on the bed, legs spread. His hard little cock bobbed up and down. Jim grabbed it in his lips, tickling the tip with his tongue. Then he licked along the underside. He coated the little cock with saliva until it started dripping down to Bish's crack. Jim shifted his attention south. His tongue teased and caressed the boy's rosebud, coaxing it open. Soon he slipped his tongue in, spreading the moisture inward.
Certain, that Bish could take him, Jim moved up, so that his hard rod, hovered over the boy's waiting hole. With a firm, steady thrust, The man staked the boy through the anus.
"Ohhhh yeeeahhhhh!" said the boy. "Give it to me, Mr. Eckerd."
Jim eagerly complied. He was keyed up after the incident with Rusty and now was his chance for release. They boy's asschute was buttery soft and pliable. Jim rammed into it over and over, each time eliciting a moaning scream from the boy. Apparently the boy had been showing some restraint at the pool in the afternoon, because now he really, let himself go.
"Oh Christ! Oohhhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh. Oh yessssssss!"
Jim gritted his teeth with the effort of plowing the boy. He was fucking as hard and fast as he could. The boy loved it.
"Aaaaahhgghhhhhh. Ohhhhghhhhh. Aaahhhhhhhgggghhh."
Then the boy came, his ass tightening on Jim, almost seeming to push him out. The increased friction and attention on his cock sent Jim hurtling through the wall of pleasure and he came, driving hard into the firm, tight boy ass under him.
As he let go his final few spurts, the boys hands tightened around him. "Don't pull out."
"Just hold me, like this afternoon."
"Bish, what happened this afternoon? You were crying. I assume that you don't usually do that after sex, because you seem pretty happy now --.
Jim held the boy, in the still of the night, their chests beat against one another.
Finally, Bish spoke. "I've been having sex since I was nine, Jim."
"I believe you."
"I've had sex with tons of men. I've loved all of it. I once got screwed during the Fiesta Bowl halftime show, in the middle of the field. Of course I was hidden under the stage at the time, but still... Anyways, in all that time, with all those men, you're the first one who ever just held me. It seems like a small thing, but until this afternoon, I'd never realized how cool it could be: that closeness. I want to thank you for that."
"Bish I'm sorry to hear about --.
"No, no, no. Weren't you listening? I wasn't abused. I wasn't exploited. That kind of sex was exactly what I went looking for and exactly what I got. Remember that time I stayed away from school for four days?
"Yeah, you were sick."
"No. I joined a truck convoy to Florida. It was one giant gangbang all the way down. And it was a blast."
Jim whistled. "A convoy..."
"Look, the point is, that in all those years of picking up guys at mall cafeterias and bus stops, it never occurred to me that just holding someone could be so much fun. You're a very caring, considerate man. He's very lucky to have you."
"Rusty. You love him. I can tell. You look at him in a way you'll never look at me."
"I... yeah. Sorry."
"Don't be. I'll never love you either." Bish stopped. "Well, I do love you. You're the best teacher I ever had and a good friend. But I'll never be in love with you, the way Rusty is."
"Rusty's in love with me?"
"Waitaminnit. Tonight, when I told him I still loved Robin..."
"Yeah, he thinks that you're only interested in him because he reminds you of Robin."
"But that's not true. I definitely had issues with it earlier, but I've known him for too long now to ever confuse him with someone else. What I feel for Rusty couldn't just be transferred. It grew in me."
"Well I'm glad to hear that. Now there's no reason you two can't be together."
"You really are his friend aren't you?"
"Yeah, why do you think I fucked you?" asked Bish, giggling.
"What? But if you knew he loved me, I'd have thought that you'd leave me alone."
"Well, being the sexual predator that I am, I knew you'd never work up the nerve to put a move on Rusty and he just doesn't have the skills to seduce you, so I had to be the one to break down your inhibitions."
"This was all a plot? Rusty knew you were coming here to seduce me today?"
"You don't feel cheap and used, do you?"
"Well, kinda. Though I do feel very honored. And I've never been used in a better way." Jim kissed Bish lightly on the lips. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," said Bish. Then he asked, "Why are you still here, anyways? The boy you love is right next door. I told him I'd sort this out and that if everything was okay, I'd send you over."
"Okay, I'm going."
"Be careful, he's never done anything sexual before."
"You're kidding. With a sexual predator such as yourself for a friend?"
"Well, he was kind of insistent that he wanted to wait for you."
"That's sweet," Said Jim pausing at the door. "One question though."
"You pick up men at food courts?"
"It might sound weird, but it's not. That's where all the pedos hang out. I just look for a man eating alone who keeps glancing around at the boys, and I've got my guy. I walk over and take a seat and it goes from there. Half the time, the guy's straight, and just waiting for his wife. The rest of the time, he's into me, though he's usually still waiting on a wife. Even so, most of those guys are too chicken to do anything, so the most I get out of it is a free meal. But one out of every five will let you get into his pants."
"So one out of ten is your success rate?"
"Well I'm a kid. I can spend all day at the mall if I want to."
"You lead an interesting life, son."
"I'll tell you all about it later. Now, scram!"
"It's me, Mr. Eck- Jim."
Jim walked over to the boy's bed without turning on the light.
"Bish sent me over."
"I'm so glad."
In the dark, Jim could find Rusty only by touch; Silky hair under his nervous fingers; Little panted breaths against his face; Small hands holding fast to Jim's naked shoulders.
"Rusty, I love you."
"I love you too Jim."
The boy had gone to bed in only pajama pants and Jim caressed his exposed side. Rusty responded, pressing against Jim and delivering short, wet pecks to his neck. Leaning down, Jim kissed the boy's forehead lightly. He could scarcely believe he was being so tender, when every voice in his head screamed for him to rip the Rusty's clothes to shreds and ravish him with animal lust.
But the boy was so delicate, so enchanting in his first foal-like steps to love, that Jim could not help but respond in kind.
Bish now lay in Jim's own room with a fresh load of Jim's essence in his contented rear end. So hard had Bish screamed his pleasure while Jim vigorously reamed him that the man was not surprised to find Rusty awake when he came in.
Now it was three in the morning, and Jim was totally hard, eager to take his second boy in as many hours. He was naked, having never bothered to get dressed after his earlier adventures in boy sex. His leaking dick had already soaked through much of the Rusty's pajama crotch. The boy, it seemed, did not sleep in underwear. Through thin, wet, silk, Jim felt the hard little boy dick against his own man-sized one.
When Jim traced his fingertips down the Rusty's spine, the boy gasped and closed his eyes, head back. Jim kissed him on each eyelid. Then the tip of his nose. And finally the soft, moist lips.
Jim's dick jerked at this electric touch. He felt a hair's breadth away from cumming all over the boy's pajamas. As sexy as it felt to rub against the boy through them, it was time for them to go. He reach to the elastic band, slipping the garment down the Rusty's curved butt.
The boy's small hand clamped his, stopping him.
"Before we go on..."
" `Yesterday has passed
A touch gives hope in the night
Light flows through my soul'"
"That's Robin's haiku. He wrote it on the boat, the day after we made love."
"I found it today. It's beautiful. When I read it I just knew the words were about you." Rusty kissed Jim softly. "Jim, I'm sorry I got mad at you. I just felt so rejected."
"And I'm sorry I never realized you were ready to love me."
"Jim, I want you to love Robin. He's part of who you are now. You're tender and caring and loving, because of the memory of him. I know you think that it's guilt that's pushing you to treat people so well now, but you're wrong. It's love. The love you never let die."
Jim cried, "Oh Rusty. I miss him so much." The man looked up to heaven, tears running down his face.
Rusty stood up on his knees, looking down at the weeping man. The boy cupped his face and licked the tears off the man's face.
"Jim, make love to me..."
€ Jim slipped the pajamas off the boy and laid him down on the bed. He kissed his way down from the boy's erect nipples along the smooth chest and stomach, licking the navel hole with a "smack". Then to the first of his prizes, the hard little boydick. Carefully, lovingly, he licked it all around, then took it into his mouth and sucked on it.
The boy moaned. "Ohhhh. Jiiimmmmm."
Cradling Rusty's buttcheeks in his hands Jim went for his other prize, the boy's small virgin hole. He kissed it first, then let his tongue feel it out. Salivating as much from desire as design, Jim prepared Rusty's opening for love. Soon, his tongue was all the way in, playing games with the inside of the boy's ass.
With soft, urgent, moans, Rusty urged him on.
When he felt ready, Jim moved back up to Rusty's lips and they kissed. A real kiss. A long, movie star kiss. As they wrapped their tongues around each other in sensual delight, Jim eased one finger into the boy. He felt the boy gasp in his mouth, but kept kissing. Rusty's stiffy pulsed against Jim's skin.
When the finally broke off their kiss, Rusty panted for breath.
"Oh, Rusty, I love you."
"Jim. I lovveaaaaaaghhh." Jim's eased a second finger past the boy's anus.
A third finger followed as soon as Rusty was loose enough. Jim and Rusty continued to kiss, until Jim was happily sliding his fingers in and out of the boy's lovehole, with no fuss.
"It's time," said Jim.
"No, not yet."
The boy pushed Jim off and offered him the same treatment Jim had given him earlier. Rusty started at the nipples gently kissing and nibbling them. Then he made his way down the man's stomach to the hard, erect, man dick.
Jim felt the boy engulf his cock and his entire body sang with the pleasure as the inexperienced boy enthusiastically slurped in his cock. He was no expert, like his friend, Bish, but Rusty had the advantage of love, and it made up for his lack of technical expertise.
"Rusty..." said Jim, weak with pleasure.
Rusty kept up his assault on Jim's cock.
They boy seemed possessed, as he continued to suck on Jim's organ.
The boy's head shot up, surprised.
Jim said, "You're a bit too good at that, love. You want to save some for that sweet ass of yours.
Rusty seemed embarrassed as he crawled back up. Jim kissed him. "You're adorable. I promise you, you can give me a full blowjob later. But right now I want to love you."
Jim kissed Rusty, as he positioned himself between the boy's legs. When he was ready, he arched his back and, still holding his mouth to the boy's sweet lips, thrust slowly into the boy's ass.
Rusty whimpered. Jim managed to get the head into the boy's opening.
"Jesus Christ, you're tight. You feel so good. Are you okay?"
With teeth gritted together, Rusty said, "I'm fine. Keep going."
Jim did, With a slow rocking motion, he gradually worked his entire length into his loverboy's tender hole.
His first strokes were slow and deliberate, easing his cock out and then back in.
"Nnngggghhhh. Nnngggh. Nnghhhhhhhhoohhhhhhh."
The boy's kept his moans low, forcing his energy into his core.
With, his thrusting gaining speed, Jim could no longer hold his kiss with the shorter boy. Instead, he wrapped his hands around Rusty's bare back and held the boy to his chest as he slowly made love to him.
In his arms the boy seemed so small, so wanting and giving at the same time, that Jim fell in love all over again. He didn't rush. They were both enjoying themselves immensely just as they were. With hard breathing and soft moans, the made love to each other into the night.
The boy came first. First, his little cock stiffened even more against Jim, and then he bit into Jim's chest as the spike of pleasure rushed through his quaking body. Jim, smiled and yelped at the same time, from Rusty's sharp teeth, but had no choice, but to bear the pain as he kept up his steady pumping of the boy.
Muffled screams and gripping anal muscles, signaled the passage of Rusty's orgasm. Jim struggled to hold himself back. He had a goal. One orgasm was not enough for his sweet boy.
Jim, increased his speed, angling to hit the right spot in Rusty, just a little bit more firmly. Every time he succeeded, Rusty cried out in his small voice. Before long the boy was on his second trip to the edge of ecstacy, gulping air and gnashing his teeth as he came, again squeezing his tight, warm hole around Jim's pistoning dick. The man said silent thanks that Rusty had not chosen to quiet himself with a chunk of Jim's chest.
As the boy came down from orgasm, with moans of "Jim, Jim... Jiiiimm," the man quickened his pace. He was ready to finish now and, with quick, efficient strokes, chased his climax down, taking Rusty with him like a leaf in the wake of a tornado. Together, they climbed the heights of love, Rusty's gripping, squeezing, rectum milking the man's cock for all it had, as spurt after spurt of semen left Jim, each accompanied by explosions of sensation all through his body.
The last few trembles of orgasm worked their way through both their bodies as Jim reached down to kiss Rusty.
"I can't believe this happened," said Rusty. "I feel like I'm in a dream."
Jim, rolled onto his side, still holding Rusty. The boy hung his arms around Jim's neck, leaned up and kissed him. Then Jim held the back of Rusty head and pressed him to his chest, softly stroking his hair.
They lay in silence until morning.
Epilogue - Somewhere in L.A.
In 2002, Ben Affleck was named People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive.
Matt stiffened under Ben, as he reached orgasm. With stiff long strokes, Ben continued to push into his best friend over and over. As Matt's ass contracted, the pressure proved too much for Ben and he began spurting his cum into the blond's tight ass.
Gradually, Ben ceased his thrusting, his dick softening.
"Man, that was great," said Matt.
Ben grinned, "You have just been fucked by the sexiest man alive, Baby!"
"I have indeed. Man, is my ass sore. Next time, I'm doing you."
"You gotta beat me first."
Matt dismissed him with a wave.
Ben countered, "Gggrrrrrrr," and playfully bit at Matt's neck.
"Every time you do that it reminds me of our first time. Man that was wild. Sometimes, I still can't believe we did that."
Ben had been just 11, staying over at his older friend's house one January night in Boston. In the way that children do, they ended up racing around the block naked, in the snow at two in the morning. Ben had won, something he had been doing a lot of since his recent growth spurt. But rather than claim his prize, he had jumped straight into bed and piled the covers on. Eager for warmth, Matt had dived right in and the two friends had spent the night naked, wrestling, growling and finally holding each other for heat.
Sometime in the night Matt had whispered, "Ben, I love you."
"I love you, Matt," Ben had replied.
The next night, they repeated the experience, minus the running in the snow, of course. Though they did not get around to actual sex for another year, they always considered that their first time, because that was when they had known they were no longer just friends.
Coming out of his memories, Ben turned to Matt. "You know, I still love you."
"I love you, Ben."
Comments Welcome. Even if you're reading this in an archive years from now, I'd love to hear what you think.
(revised html version