Hi there! I'm assuming y'all read the disclaimer in parts 1 through 3, so I'll keep just the most relevant parts here.

 

I may have been premature about that "about to take the turn" warning in the last chapter. It'll come up again either in chapter 4 or 5, and I'll be more explicit then. For now, as always, bear in mind that it is, first and foremost, a STORY. The characters are imperfect, and not necessarily the best role models for what might constitute good behavior in any similar real life situations. Allowing their story to provoke thought on best ethical practices is encouraged, but blindly presuming that the answers that fit the characters are the answers that would fit any real life circumstance is just setting yourself (and probably others) up for catastrophic, painful failures. Don't do that.

 

As always, be sure to tip your writers with verbal feedback (ursaminor@online.ee), and your hosts here at Nifty with financial feedback. Were it not for them, this site would not exist, and I'm quite sure that there are many stiflers of free speech out there who would prefer it didn't. Make sure Nifty's coffers are well armed against any potential attack.

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RECAP: Gary has received an unexpected visit from a good old friend, Mike, and his preteen son, Tom. Tom has confessed that these troubles involve his mom's disapproval of sexual experimentation with another boy, and Gary has shared with Tom that his own sexuality caused some friction with Tom's mom in the past. Gary's teenaged friend-with-benefits, Kyle, has put the notion in Gary's head that Tom might be someone to get to know intimately, and after watching a sexually charged movie and a sensual foot massage, Tom has made it clear that he's interested in that as well...

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I wasn't fully hard anymore, but I certainly wasn't flaccid either, and of course the boy's foot did perk me up a bit before I slowly, gently, took the foot in my hand and moved it away. "What my body may want and what's a good idea aren't always the same thing," I said in a hopefully firm but gentle tone. After a moment, I asked, "What about Marky?"

 

Tom frowned, taken aback by the mention of his little friend, "I don't even know if I'm going to be able to see Marky again, especially not anytime soon..." Then he hid his head under the covers, his voice quivering a bit, and added, "I just thought you might...want... to do stuff with me."

 

I sighed, squeezing Tom's feet in solidarity. "I'm not saying I don't, Tommy," I replied.

 

Oh shit, what made me say that? The little boy with his head buried under his covers, literally hiding from potential rejection, could not possibly be a validly ready partner, could he? He was nothing like Kyle, whose approach had been far more direct. A fairly hilarious incident involving masturbation with a perfume oil that it turned out he was allergic to had rendered his dick too sensitive to be jerked off, and while I was commiserating with him about what hell it must be for a preteen boy to go a week without masturbating, he had put his hand on my leg, glared pointedly at me and said, "I bet someone could suck it, though."

 

Tom's comparatively passive attempts to place himself upon the altar of sex and encourage me to feast on him were far less indicative of the mature and willful traits that had made it so easy to ignore Kyle's age. Not to mention the complications of his other relationship, quite possibly more romantic in potential than mine and Kyle's was. Fuck, he didn't even live anywhere near me! Nothing could really come of this, nothing long term.

 

And yet, the statement hung in the air between us, and it was impossible for me to deny the truth in it. "I'm just saying it's not the sort of thing you just do spontaneously because a movie or a massage got you hot," I clarified. "You gotta talk it out, y'know?"

 

"I guess," Tom agreed, before slowly peeking his head back up out of the covers and pulling his feet back toward his body. He bent his knees, causing the blanket to fall, revealing his bare legs and cute red underwear. I was relieved to see the latter; at least he'd left himself some room for the seduction to fail. "So... what do we talk about?"

 

Almost despite myself, I found my hand moving up to Tom's knee and resting there as I talked. I had two competing agendas here, keeping myself from jumping his bones and making him feel valued and accepted, and the latter goal required the contact. "Well, let's see. You're in love with another boy. And grieving because you might've lost him, but y'know, time will tell on that. In a lot of ways, your situation is no different from a straight kid with feelings for a girl, and parents have been trying to keep couples like that apart for centuries without any real success. So I guess my first question is, if you do get him back... are you going to feel like anything we do this week is you being unfaithful to him?" The words 'we do' were said pointedly and heavily, a perhaps unnecessary but pointed reminder that I wasn't referring to checkers or Fortnite.

 

"No way! Marky and I have talked about playing around with a... with other people. It's different," Tom said pointedly.

 

That was certainly an interesting concept, and it opened the door to a lot of possibilities. If his attitude about casual sex versus romance was that developed, then perhaps a good roll in the hay might actually help him with the grieving process. At the very least, my choice of movie wasn't as corruptive an influence as I'd feared. "Alright, so what about me then, specifically? Please, be brutally honest here, you're not going to hurt my feelings. Is it just being touched by someone else and I'm the one who happens to be here, or is it me, specifically, that you're interested in playing around with right now?"

 

"I wouldn't want just any random guy to touch me," Tom insisted forcefully. He paused a moment, apparently considering the merits of that suggestion, because he added, "I mean I guess that might be exciting in its own way, too." I was about to comment on that observation, but he wasn't about to let me change the subject that easily. "But really, I think your cool and your um..." His eyes shifted down towards my crotch, which had the effect of stirring it further. "Your dick, um, felt really good when I rubbed against it."

 

It was a sweet, firm, almost mature statement of where he was coming from. It brought the walls I had been building up further down. But then he sat up with his hands, pulling up his shirt a bit and extending one of his legs. The pose left very little to the imagination, practically putting himself on display for me. "I'll... I'll suck it if that's what you're worried about!" he blurted out desperately.

 

I had to stifle the laugh that was naturally bubbling to the surface at the absurdity of the concept that not receiving fellatio might be the reason for my holding back. How adorable! Adorable and sweet and utterly, utterly juvenile. Far from making me eager to take him, that moment made me feel stronger about refusing. "Oh Tommy, that would be wonderful," I admitted, caressing his preteen cheek affectionately, "but no, that's not what I'm worried about. Actually, what I'm worried about is exactly what just happened; that you'll feel pressured to do something specific, something you may or may not really want to do, just because you think it's expected or required. I don't want to feel like I hurt you after you've gone back home." I snickered. "I mean, there's also the fact that I don't want you deciding that I need to be in prison over it, which is absolutely what would happen if the police got wind that I was even *thinking* about this, but that's mostly a side concern."

 

The horny boy looked at me incredulously, tossing those sweet green puppy dog eyes at me again, his bare legs bent up, his knees at his chest with his tight bright red underwear just covering his sexy smooth upper thighs. Vulnerability radiated in his tone of voice as he pleaded. "I know how to keep secrets, jeez. I DO want to do stuff with you... you've been really cool to be with and I miss being at home and with my friends. I miss my computer too. I didn't want to come here, but I guess if you're here and stuff it's not so bad..."

 

Say what you will about the lack of dignity in a boy's begging, there's simply nothing harder to resist. I couldn't help but lick my lips, my mind involuntarily playing over the feel of Tom's cheek in my hands moments earlier, and the feel of his legs earlier in the evening. Still, with a gulp, I managed to hold the moral line for the moment. "I... notice you didn't answer the other part of that concern. About you doing things because you think they're expected."

 

Tom shifted on the couch, looking at me seriously. "I won't do anything I don't want to do," he assured me. "I'm not a virgin ya know..."

 

I was quiet for a few moments, considering what we'd talked about. Ticking the boxes on a mental checklist, as it were. Strong emotional need and not just doing it to get off, check. On the other hand, not in some case of puppy dog love with his uncle, check. Strong willed, assertive, aware of the risks. Check, check, check. No romantic conflict of interest. Not 100% sure, but HE seemed to be, and if his judgement couldn't be trusted on some level then there'd be nothing to consider, right? So a tentative check. Leaving impulsivity as the only real remaining concern. And I knew the easy solution for that. "I think... I think I might be willing to have some fun here, enjoy each other in that way. But how would you feel if we slept on the idea for a night, maybe made a final decision tomorrow?"

 

With that, Tom stood up awkwardly. "You're weird, Uncle Gary. I guess if my dad has to go away all day again tomorrow, maybe I will have better luck then. My mind isn't changing."

 

Oof. While I certainly didn't expect a completely chipper response, that one stung on multiple levels. He obviously felt like I was patronizing him, which I guess in some ways I was. Certainly I didn't make Kyle suffer through a one-day waiting period. Still, this was a very different boy and a very different situation. More importantly, though, he was still seeing this as an almost transactional relationship.  "Hey now, wait one sec," I insisted, sliding my arms around Tom's chest and pulling the boy into his lap. I needed to show him that sincere, positive emotion – affection – was associated with this as well. "I just want to take our time and be sure about `crossing the border', as it were," I clarified, running my hand all along the boy's outer thigh as I spoke and snapping the waistband of his underwear on the word 'border', to make perfectly clear where that border lies. "I can still show some affection to my gorgeous, beautiful nephew, can't I?"

 

Tom was clearly surprised by my maneuver and being so close to me. He blushed visibly at the compliments. After a few seconds, the boy regained his composure, shifting in my lap. I was pleased until I realized he was deliberately rubbing against my penis, brushing up against it with his smooth underwear-clad buns. In a tone that was at bad as being nonchalant as it was good at sounding seductive, he purred, "I guess that depends what kind of affection and if you can manage to keep your beautiful nephew's pants on somehow."

 

"I'm not going to lie, it'll be hard," I admitted. Even at that moment, my brain couldn't resist the double entendre. With a wry smile, I looked down at his antics, making no attempt to keep the boy from feeling my arousal, and added, "Pun intended."

 

I reached out and, keeping my left arm around Tom's waist to stop him from gyrating so much, rested my right hand on the preteen's shoulder, one finger tracing up and down his neck ever so slightly. "I'm just going to have to remind myself that it's not like you're a potential boyfriend here. I'm your uncle. That's an unequal, mentor/student type of relationship, which means I have a responsibility to be a role model for you. Even if it's just modeling how to keep your hormones in check for a few hours before you ravage your horny nephew out of sheer lust."

 

Tom again looked dejected at that idea. "I don't know that any relationship is really equal," he pondered, and although it was clearly a line designed to manipulate me, I couldn't help but feel pride at the profoundness in that observation. Keen mind, this boy had. "Someone is always smarter, older, more experienced... at least in some ways. Isn't it more important to look at things um, more, I dunno, is the word I'm looking for... holistically? Plus you're not really my uncle anyway..."

 

I peered at the little philosopher incredulously. "In a different context, I'd be offended, y'know. 'Not really your uncle' indeed." I squeezed his shoulder. God, how smooth and supple the skin felt, even with his shirt covering it. "Have I misjudged things, then? Is this not about having some fun and sharing some deep but NOT romantic affection for the next few days? You're certainly not in love with me, a few hours ago you were barely tolerating your fate in being here." He was still gyrating his hips subtly on my cock, but I tried to keep my face steady and not acknowledge how horny it was making me.

 

"Hey I just mean we're not related! At least... as far as I know." The little imp giggled again, and I was reminded that at least his mood WAS considerably improved from a few hours ago. "But I dunno, what's wrong with just enjoying the time together as much as we can? I don't get to see you too much and um, uh, 'life is short'." He shrugged after uttering the cliché, probably aware that most people would find what he's saying nonsensical from an eleven year old boy.

 

I'm not most people. "It is short," I agreed. "Shorter than you know, my lascivious little cherub." I lightly tickled the youngster for a moment, trying to keep some levity in the otherwise very serious debate. Plus the more he giggled, the more I could resist his allure. "And that's why it's important that neither of us spend any precious moments thinking, 'Oh god, I wish I hadn't let my dick get the best of me.' Just like we might waste an hour checking over your bike to make sure the chain is tight and there's air in the tires, so that we don't have you wasting years in a hospital in rehab somewhere wishing you'd taken just a few minutes to make sure it was safe. Does that make sense?"

 

Tom sighed, and his grinding against me finally stopped. "I guess that makes sense," he conceded. "So what do we do now?"

 

I kissed my honorary nephew on the cheek, happy to hear the boy acquiesce. "Well, we should make that decision together," I suggested. "The wiser thing to do would be to get some pants on you, take a quick walk around the neighborhood for some exercise, and then come back and mess around in Minecraft until your dad gets home." Removing my left hand from Tom's shoulder, I slid it underneath his shirt, running it slightly up and down. The young boy curled his back in response, lifting his shirt up from the front as I snaked up his back and moaning. "If, on the other hand, you think we can get a little closer to the edge without falling over, metaphorically speaking, then I'd love to spend the next half hour telling you about how incredibly hot you are and all the things I'm going to be imagining doing to this smooth, silky body of yours when I'm laying in bed tonight. Then we can go back to our separate rooms and masturbate furiously until it's time to get dinner started."

 

Tom leaned in close to me, his breath creating heat against my neck, his hands playing with the hems of his shirt. I could now make out the skin I was rubbing on his lower back, looking so inviting. Almost panting, the child said breathily, "I'm glad we're not wise..."

 

I breathed in deeply of the boy's pheromones, leaning forward and nuzzling his neck with my closed lips, my hands pressing a bit more firmly into the bare flesh of the youngster's back. I placed a single kiss on the boy's neck before, equally panty, I pulled back a bit to make eye contact again. This was starting to get out of control. "I... I think maybe we should reverse that plan, go pound one out first and then come back for the foreplay talk. I don't know if I can last as long as I thought I could."

 

Tom's little moans continued while I nuzzled and pecked his neck, then he let his shirt drop and wrapped his arms around my neck, looking back at me pleadingly, "Are you sure that's what you want, Uncle Gary?" His hips started moving again.

 

I took my right hand off of Tom's back to run it through his hair, rubbing our noses together in an eskimo kiss. My resolve was failing hard at his persistence. "No," I admitted, though I hopefully conveyed in my tone that I very much wanted to resist. My head nudged forward slightly, my eyes transferring the authority to my young partner, effectively handing the decision over to him.

 

Tom's eyes lit up for a moment but then closed. He slanted his head a bit to the right, allowing his succulent lips to make contact with mine. With experience that defied his tender years, his tongue poked out, just a bit assertively, demanding entry. His small hands started to rub my shoulders and back through my shirt.

 

I couldn't help but gasp, which opened my mouth, allowing him access. I had tried to be strong, but the truth was self-evident as I surrendered to passion and began to kiss him back fervently – I had lost this battle before I'd begun.

 

As I began to kiss him back in earnest, I consoled myself with the thought that there were worse things in this world to surrender to.