Date: Wed, 01 Mar 2017 14:34:13 -0500 From: The Paternal Watcher Subject: Eclipse The lunar eclipse was due to start after 10PM, and I arrived around 9:30. Dan was messing the a fire with a couple of his boys, both the girls were laying out on blankets, and his wife was doing some last-minute work on her computer inside. "We've got smores fixings if you want," Dan said, "but we're going to try not to look at the fire for too long or we might miss the details of the eclipse, right, kids?" The four outside -- one more was in the bathroom -- murmured an automatic agreement. Drew came up to hug me, wearing a form-fitting pair of long underpants and nothing else that I could see. "Sit with me on the bench," he said, leading me over to where the 2-person wooden yard furniture was set up for best effect. He'd arranged a large, soft blanket to wrap around us, guarding against the chill of the June night. Laughing, I said, "If you're cold, you could always put on a shirt." He cocked his head in confusion. "But then the blanket might be too warm." I exchanged a glance with Dan, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head, as if to say I made him, but I cannot explain him. Sitting down, I realized there was a thick quilt beneath us, no doubt to keep the chill off Drew's bony butt. He pulled it up around our shoulders, wrapped the blanket atop us, and leaned into me to see the sky. "Dad," he asked, "what did you say about smores?" "I said you could make your own, but I happen to have an extra marshmallow on this stick, meaning you won't have to catch hypothermia," Dan replied. "Try thinking ahead next time?" "I did think ahead," the boy responded. "We have enough blankets here, and I saw you had an extra on the stick." We all laughed. Clearly he scored points for his logic, because we each got one in hand shortly. Up in the sky, the moon had a bite missing. Everyone else got themselves settled on and under blankets on the ground, making it easier to look up; Drew and I had to crane our necks a bit. A smart boy, he wriggled about until he was laying with his legs stretched out and his head on my chest. "Guess I'm the only one whose neck will be sore," I joked, but only Drew heard me; at least he was the only one to react. I could feel the warmth of his back as he settled into me with a little giggle, and then he pulled my arm around him under the covers. Feeling his warm, smooth chest, I started to react a bit myself. I'm enough in control that I didn't harden up, but I could feel my pulse quicken. He was thirteen years old, and starting to finally get taller. His voice had only recently begun changing, and I still wasn't entirely used to the deeper sounds that came out of his mouth. My hand, resting across the border between rib cage and abdomen, felt his muscles move as he breathed. I unconsciously dug my fingers in a bit, probing for more, and he wriggled with discomfort. I could feel his ass against me in that moment. "You said you wouldn't tickle me anymore," he complained, albeit softly. I apologized, assured him it had not been my intent, and promised it would not happen again without permission. He turned to give me a dirty look, but it quickly morphed into a smile. He settled into me again. The moon was slowly disappearing, darkening the sky; conversation unconsciously slipped into low tones and whispers in response. Drew and I lay still, and after a time I wasn't sure if he was even awake or not. Perhaps he wondered the same thing, because much to my surprise he quietly snaked a hand behind him, and gently grabbed my dick. His fingers probed a bit, as if to verify what body part was underneath them; I knew it wouldn't be long before an erection removed all doubt. I was wearing sweatpants, and had little defense against his curiosity. Realizing that, I slid my own hand down atop his crotch, resting it there. The squeezing stopped, as did his breathing. Drew now definitely knew I was awake. I did nothing more, but my penis continued to harden into fullness underneath his touch. Before long Drew exhaled, and gently squeezed my thick tool. I responded in kind, grasping for his young genitals and quickly realizing that only that one layer of fabric -- dark blue, waffle-weave long underpants -- kept me from touching him there directly. When he squeezed again, my other hand went to join his, and then pulled open the drawstring at my waist. He moved a bit in response; anyone looking would have thought he was getting more settled, but in fact he pushed his sex up into my hand in the process. My probing fingers sought the boy's own waistband, which was snug but no barrier given Drew's clear assent. He continued to explore my erection through my sweats, at least until I touched his bare penis and his whole body quivered. That's when I gently pushed his hand away from me to allow him to settle back and enjoy the next few minutes fully. He did, with his pert little butt squarely sitting against my cock, which did nothing if not make it harder. The moon was almost completely gone now, and the fire had died down to embers. No one rose to stir the coals. I had a hot little coal well in hand, and as quietly and gently as I could I sought to make it hotter still. Hard as nails he was, yet the picture of control: only his irregular breathing was evidence of what I was up to under that dark sky, and that warm blanket. I stroked him from probing tip to feather-soft hairs, traced his balls front and back, and returned again to explore his young phallus. When I circled him with my fingers he grabbed my hand to keep it from leaving; he then made his desires doubly clear by thrusting into my palm. No sound broke the quiet of the night save for the occasional pop from the fire ring. No boards creaked underneath us as he urgently, desperately, moved his penis in and out of my hand while keeping the rest of his body as still as he possibly could. I loosened my draw string more, then pulled down the front of my sweats and the back of his underpants with that same hand. His reaction to me against his naked cheeks was to stop breathing, thrust harder. I moved slightly, allowing my member to slide between his legs. The size difference was stupendous. As he resumed his subtle motion, my penis was caressed by his thighs even as his was by my soft palm. I felt the backs of my knuckles and his warm sack pass over my head, again and again, and then he stopped. His penis was fully extended, and he bore down on me with his silky thighs. I felt a new warmth in my hand, and that realization was enough to put me over the edge and spray. I think it was caught in his long underpants. Maybe it just smeared between his thighs. Either way, with a cough I covered the motion of withdrawing from his warm treasure-chest. Sensing what was needed, Drew stretched grandly, pulling up his underwear smoothly as he stood. "I'm going to bed," he announced. His parents murmured good nights and I said, "Sweet dreams." Mine certainly would be. If he had turned around, he might have seen me wiping my sticky hand in the grass. ------ If you enjoyed the preceding work of fiction, please consider donating to Nifty. Every dollar goes a long way.