Date: Thu, 16 Jun 2011 11:17:49 +0100 From: Jase Subject: Scott's Bannana in his pyjamas Part One Usual stuff! This work depicts adult males in sexual situations with underage males. If this offends you do not read this story. All events depicted in this story are purely of a fictional nature and any resemblance to people living or dead is coincidence. If you enjoy this story, please feel free to send me a message at jojaskod@gmail.com It would be good to hear from you -- I reply to all emails. Please read my other story "The Plumbers Mate" -- part 4 is on its way! Please note the different email address -- I am sorry to those who may have emailed the old one! "SCOTT'S BANANA IN HIS PYJAMAS" PART ONE Let me introduce myself. My name is Mike. I am in my early 40's and I live on my own. I have many friends -- gay and straight -- but I have a secret love of boys. I like young lads -- early teens or thereabouts. I don't get much fun, but when I do, I enjoy it! About 4 or 5 years ago some close friends of mine, Gareth and Claire, got married. Claire had been married before, and she had 2 children -- Sarah and Scott. I was at the wedding -- having been a close friend of Gareth and his family for many years. Not long after they were married, they had a son, Aaron. They asked me to be his godfather -- which of course I was pleased to accept. However, after the christening I didn't really see much of them. I would occasionally see Gareth in the pub, make the occasional phone call, and exchange the odd texts about the football -- but that was at far as it went. And then, one Wednesday night .... Claire phoned. After the initial pleasantries she asked if I could do her and Gareth a favour. Apparently they were going away for the weekend. Chloe was staying with her mum, Aaron with Gareth's mum, but could I look after Scott? "Claire, I don't know the boy!" I protested. "The last time I saw him was at the christening 3 years ago. More to the point, he doesn't know me!" Claire was having none of it. Apparently, he talks about me all the time. That I didn't believe. Then she got to the truth of the matter. "The thing is Mike," she said, "Scott has become a bit of a handful. He's not doing well in school, he can be unbearable at home, and neither Gareth's mum or my mum will have him". To be honest, she wasn't doing a very good job of selling the idea. Then she said: "Teenagers can be so difficult". I was immediately interested. "How old is Scott now?" I asked. "He was 13 last month," she said, "and don't we know it. Oh well, if he cant come to you, Gareth and I wont be able to go -- and we have been so looking forward to it". "Okay," I said, trying to sound reluctant, "he can come here". "Oh thank you Mike!" Claire shouted. "Can I bring him round tomorrow evening?" "But tomorrow's Thursday! I thought you were going for the weekend?" "It's a long weekend," Claire said. "We go on Friday and we are back on Monday. There's no school on Friday, but he will be alright in your place on his own". I thought quickly. "No, you're OK. I am owed a few days leave. I will take Friday and Monday off. Drop Scott off tomorrow evening" "Thanks Mike," said Claire, "I am ever so grateful. Gareth says he will buy you a couple of drinks when he sees you in the pub". "Think nothing of it Claire," I said. "But one other thing -- Scott doesn't talk about me all the time, does he?" "He hasn't got a clue who you are" she said. And, quite frankly, I couldn't remember him either. I had vague recollections of a young blond haired boy running around at the wedding and the christening, but beyond that I couldn't remember a thing! ++++++ I decided to take Thursday off as well. I had to tidy the house and make it presentable. Gareth text me and said how grateful he was, and he told me Claire would be round about 6. Just before 6 I saw Claire's car pull up on the drive. I dived back from the window, and tried to act nonchalant as the door bell rung. I opened the door and there stood Claire, but I couldn't see Scott. "Hi Claire," I said. "Where's Scott?" "He's just getting his bag out of the car" Claire replied, pushing me back inside the house while I desperately tried to get a look at my charge for the next couple of days. "Mike, Gareth and I are so grateful for you agreeing to look after Scott -- I just don't know what we would have done if you hadn't said you would help". "It's no problem, honestly" I said. "Would you like a coffee or something?" "No, you're OK. I had better get back". Claire then turned round and shouted "Scott! Come on -- you're keeping Uncle Mike waiting! "It's not a problem -- honestly! He's not keeping me waiting at all" I said. With that, Scott appeared. He was very much as I remembered him, but taller, older and a teenager. Scott was just over 5 foot tall. He had dark blonde hair cut short. He had beautiful blue eyes with stunning eyelashes, and gorgeous pink lips. He had an old Man U football shirt on that had seen better days, a pair of black trackies and old trainers. He looked at me and with a resigned look said in a rehearsed way: "Hello Uncle Mike. Thank you for letting me stay". My heart melted. I said "It's a pleasure Scott. You need to make yourself at home here. I am sure you'll have a good time" Scott looked up at me and said nothing. "Well," Claire said, "I'll be off". She bent down and gave Scott a peck on the cheek. Scott grimaced. "You be good for Uncle Mike. Don't be naughty". Claire turned to me "I've put some food in his bag. Anything you spend, just let us know and we'll pay you back when we get home. There's no school tomorrow, but there is on Monday. His uniform is in his bag -- he can walk to school from here. You've got Gareth's number if you need us. Thanks so much. Bye!" And with that she was gone. I stood on the door, and waved as she reversed off the drive. She didn't look back at me, yet alone wave. Scott was standing in the lounge. "Well, Scott. It's just you and me!" I said. "Yes Uncle Mike" he replied. "Cut the Uncle business, eh Scott? You make me feel old!" I said. Scott smiled. Oh My God -- what a smile! "OK" he said. "Lets go in the kitchen" I said. "Have you had something to eat?" Scott opened his bag. "Mum has given me this for my tea" he said, and brought out a pot noodle. "Well, you can have that if you want" I said, "but I haven't eaten, and I was going to get a takeaway. What do you want? Chinese? Indian? Pizza?" Scott's eyes lit up. "Can we have pizza? Please?" "Sure" I said, and took a menu off the pin board. "Take your pick and I'll phone them". Scott was obviously delighted and read the menu eagerly. Scott chose what he wanted, I picked a meal, and phoned the order in. About 30 minutes later it arrived and 15 minutes later it was eaten! God, could the boy eat! It was only just after 7pm. We washed up -- I can't stand eating out of cartons -- Scott drying the plates without being asked. "Right, Scott", I said, "What do you want to do now?" Scott looked at me and shrugged. "Don't know," he replied. "Have you got any games or something we could play on the computer or the telly?" "Well, I've got FIFA 11 if that's any good?" "Cool!" Scott shouted, "Mum wouldn't buy it for me `cos she said it was too expensive". "I'll go and get it", I said, and went upstairs. When I came down, Scott was waiting expectantly by the sofa. I set up the game and gave Scott a control. I sat on one of the chairs and Scott sat on the carpet. "Do you mind if I sit here Mike?" he asked, positioning himself between my legs on the carpet. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable on the sofa?" I asked. "Nah -- I'm fine here, if that's OK?" he said, turning round to look up at me. "That's fine mate -- wherever you're happy". Scott picked his team -- called Man United, of course -- and I picked mine: Everton. He mocked me a bit, but soon shut up when I started to win. The problem was, that I began losing concentration: he was pressing himself against my one leg and leaning his head on my thigh. It was all I could do to keep my ever growing hard on in check. Scott won the game -- much to his delight -- and insisted we had another. He won that too. I was completely gone: much more of this and I would cum in my CK's. He got up and asked if he go to the bathroom. Off he went and I adjusted myself. When he came back, he plonked himself on the carpet between my legs again. I decided to take control, and I announced that the game was over. "That's not fair" he whined. "Just `cos you're losing". "I am not losing, Scott" I replied. "I have lost! Come on, we'll put it away and have another go tomorrow." Scott turned around, knelt between my knees, put his elbows on my legs and looked up at me. He then looked down at my obvious bulge, and then looked back up, and smiled. "Are we going to have fun this weekend Uncle -- sorry -- Mike?" he asked, looking really mischievous. "I hope so, Scott" I replied, my mouth suddenly very dry. "Cool" he said. And with that he got up and started to pack away the game. "Man U are way better than Everton anyway" he jibed, giving me a push. "You're right!" I said, "but this Everton supporter is bigger than this man U supporter", and I picked him up, threw him over my shoulder and lightly spanked his bum. Scott was laughing and squealing. I put him down. He looked up at me. "What we going to do now?" he asked. "How's about getting into our pyjamas and seeing what's on TV? I've got the films on Sky -- I'm sure there must be something on. Have a look in the paper". "You wear pyjamas?" he asked. "Of course" I lied. Scott grabbed the paper and had a quick look. He picked some film that he assured me was good, because his mates had seen it. It started in 10 minutes. I had a read, and suggested it might be a bit too old for him, and asked him did he think his mum and Gareth would let him watch it. He looked downcast. "Probably not" he said. "OK" I replied. "If you don't tell them, I won't!" Scott jumped up and down, and went to turn the TV on. "No, Scott" I said. "Pyjamas!" "You putting yours on Mike?" he asked. "Yes, of course!" I said, now panicking in case I couldn't find them. I picked up Scott's bag and led the way upstairs. I showed him his room. "Where's your room?" Scott asked. "Right next door to yours" I said. "The house isn't that big!" Scott laughed, took his bag and went into his room. I went into my bedroom, closed the door and quickly searched for, and luckily found, my pyjamas. I used them when my parents came to stay, and thankfully I had washed them and put them away after the last visit. I changed into them and went downstairs. Scott's bedroom door was shut. I sat and waited for him to come down, doing a bit of channel hopping, and finally fining the film he wanted to watch. Then I looked up and Scott was coming down the stairs. I had to smile. His pyjamas had the cartoon characters "Bananas in pyjamas" all over them. They were far too small for him -- obvious hand-me-downs or bought from a charity shop. Scott looked embarrassed. "Shit aren't they?" he said. "Well..." I replied, "I don't think they are the most stylish pj's I've seen, but they probably do the job". "I hate them" he said, looking really upset. "I don't even know what this crap is on them". "Well -- it was a cartoon series from the 80's or 90's I think! Where the hell did you get them from?" Scott looked really miserable. "Mum got them for me -- from a charity shop I think. Do I have to wear them, Mike?" Putting aside the fact that the alternative might be extremely pleasant, I thought I had better be the responsible adult. "You better had, Scott" I replied. Scott looked crestfallen. "Tell you what," I said, "Wear them tonight, and tomorrow I will buy you a new pair. How's that for a deal?" Scott looked at me hopefully. "Can I pick them?" he asked. "Of course," I replied. "You can have the best pair the charity shop has got to offer!" Scott looked at me. "That's a joke, right?" "What do you think?" I asked laughing. "Thanks Mike" he said. "By the way, those pj's of yours are pretty cool too". "If you carry on like that we WILL go to the charity shop!" I laughed. And I playfully rubbed his head. Scott hugged me. I nearly died. "Come on. Lets watch this film." Scott lay on the sofa, and I sat in my chair. He caught me looking at him at a couple of times, and just smiled at me. As is usual for me, I dozed off. When I woke up, the TV was off and Scott was staring at me, or more specifically, my crotch. In my pyjamas my hard on was obvious. Scott said, "Mike, why is your dick hard?" Embarrassed, I tried to sort myself out. "I am thinking of pleasant things!" I said. Scott gave a knowing smile, but said nothing. "Right young man," I said, "bed!" "OK" he said, and went up the stairs. I was hoping to follow him up so I could see his backside, but by the time I sorted everything out and got upstairs he was in the bathroom. I went into my room and into the other bathroom I have and cleaned my teeth. When I came out Scott was standing in my bedroom. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked. "Scott, you will be better off on your own! I snore...!" I said reluctantly. He looked very sad. He was very good at looking sad. "I don't like being on my own" he said. "Don't you sleep at home on your own?" I asked. "Well -- yes -- but I know the house, and this place is very strange -- I'll have nightmares!" he said. For the second time that evening, I reluctantly played the responsible adult. "You go into your own room, Scott" I said, "and if you wake up and you are worried or upset come in and see me". Scott nodded. "OK" he said in that drawn out way that teenagers have, "but will you leave your door open? And the light on?" "I will leave my door open and the landing light on" I said. "Good night Scott" and I put my arm round him and gave him a hug. He hugged me back. I watched him go out of my room -- I was turning away a perfect, sexy 13 year old from my bed. I must be mad. I got into bed and started to think about Scott. Part of me thought he knew what he was doing -- leading me on in the hope that I would respond. But part thought it may be that he was just being friendly, that he genuinely was afraid of being on his own in a strange house. Certainly, I don't think his mum or Gareth look after him very well -- the pyjamas were evidence of that. But I just felt that I had to be careful, or I was going to get myself into a lot of trouble. ++++++ I'm not sure what time it was when I woke up, but I was aware of someone standing in my bedroom. It was, of course, Scott. "Mike" he said. "Scott," I mumbled, ""You OK mate?" The light from the landing flooded the bedroom. Scott looked so pathetic standing there in those amazing, and equally awful, pyjamas. "I woke up and I cant get back to sleep" he said, "Can I sleep with you? Please?" "Get in", pulling back the duvet from the opposite side of the bed. Scott then proceeded to climb over me, putting his hand on my crotch, and feeling my semi hard cock. "Sorry Mike" he said with a smirk on his face, "you still thinking of pleasant things?" "I was asleep!" I said, playfully smacking his bottom as he crawled over me, "and you should be too! Now come on and lets get some sleep". Scott snuggled down beside me. He put his arm over my chest. I put my arm round him and kissed the top of his head. "Goodnight mate" I said. He looked up at me. "Night Mike. Thanks for today". "You're welcome!" I replied. Somehow, I managed to maintain control! It wasn't long before Scott was peacefully sleeping -- his arm across me and my arm around him. I drifted into sleep as well. When I woke I was on my side facing the bathroom. I became aware as I came round that the bed was shaking slightly. I also became aware of some grunting noises. Scott was wanking! I couldn't believe it! I lay there frozen to the spot, deciding to pretend I was asleep. It would have been lovely to turn round and do it for him, but I once again decided to play the responsible adult. How long I could go on playing this part, I really didn't know... Scott reached the inevitable conclusion, and I could hear him breathing rapidly, trying to keep quiet. After a couple of minutes, when he seemed to have calmed down, I turned over on to my back, and turned my head towards him. "Morning sunshine!" I said, "You OK?" Scott was bright red -- I wasn't sure whether this was as a result of his recent effort, embarrassment or a combination of both. "Morning Mike", he said, "I am fine thanks. How are you? You snore!" I felt like saying "You wake me up jacking off" but I decided against it. "Sorry mate", I said, "but I did warn you!" Scott smiled at me. I could feel myself stirring down below. I jumped out of bed. "I'm going to have a shower, Scott" I told him, "you can use the other bathroom." "OK" Scott said, "thanks" I went into the bathroom, had a pee (bit difficult) and then stepped into the shower. I couldn't resist it anymore and started to wank. Thinking about Scott wanking, it didn't take long before I shot my load all down the shower wall. After I sorted myself out, I came out of the bathroom. Scott wasn't in bed. I closed the bedroom door and quickly dressed, sorted the bed out (slight damp patch from Scott's activity!) and then I went out on to the landing. Scott's bedroom door was open, but the bathroom door was shut. "You OK Scott?" I called out to him. "Yeah" he called back, "Be right there". I went into his bedroom. His "Bananas in pyjamas" pjs were in a pile on the floor. I picked them up and looked and smelled the damp patch in the trousers. Christ, I was turning into a right perve! I put them back down, and then went downstairs. I heard Scott come out of the bathroom and then he came downstairs as well. He walked into the kitchen where I was sorting out something for breakfast. Scott was fully dressed. "Scott, you are dressed in the same stuff as yesterday!" I said. "Have you showered?" "No" he said. "I had a shower yesterday morning. I'm fine." "Have you put on clean underwear and socks?" I asked. "No!" he laughed, "I've only got one other lot and they are for school on Monday" "Havent you got any other clean clothes either?" I questioned "Only school stuff" he said. "I'm fine -- honest!" I looked at him in his tatty Man U shirt and his old trackies. I put my hands on his shoulders. "Scott -- you go back upstairs and have a shower. You put on the clean underwear and socks that you have and then put these clothes back on" He started to try and say something, but I carried on. "We will then have some breakfast and we will go to town and I will get you some decent stuff to wear -- not just pyjamas. OK?" "But what will Mum say?" he said, looking worried. "You leave your mum to me" I replied. "I cant have you staying here with one set of clothes that you are going to wear for the next 3 days! I'll tell her that she obviously forgot to pack them and I went and bought you some new ones." Scott looked pensive. "But she will say I asked you, and say I was rude and I shouldn't take stuff off you and I'll get into trouble" he whined. "Scott -- don't worry!" I said, "I will sort it, I promise!" He looked at me as if he wasn't convinced. "Scott -- would you like some new clothes?" I said, "Would you like a new Man U top? They must have had 3 different sponsors since they were wearing the one you've got on! I haven't you a Christmas present for the past couple of years -- if ever! -- so this is my way of making up for it. OK?" "OK." he said. "Thanks Mike -- you're great". And once again he hugged me. I could have died. Scott went upstairs and showered. He came down smelling a bit better -- I told him to use my smellies -- and I could see he had different socks on. We had breakfast and then went down to town. My card took a bit of a hammering -- new trackies (2 pairs), socks, Man U pyjamas (he was pleased with those!), and some t shirts. Got him some decent boxers as well -- one with "Bananaman" on, which we both found funny. I had promised him a new Man U top, and we went to the sport shop to get it. He picked the one he wanted -- with Rooney on the back, just to wind me up I think! -- and then we looked at the rest of the kit. I couldn't resist it -- the thought of seeing Scott in full footy kit: shorts and socks -- was too hard to put out of my mind, so I got him the lot. Scott was as pleased as punch, delighted with what we had bought. When we got home he tried most things on and paraded in front of me. I hoped he would show me what the boxer shorts looked like, but he didn't go that far. But, as I was sitting reading the paper and having a coffee, he came down the stairs dressed in the football kit. He looked adorable! I just stared at him -- he looked so cute in the shorts and the socks -- I just couldn't take my eyes off him. "You OK Mike?" he said. "Does it look OK?" "You look great Scott" I eventually stammered. He walked towards me and then stopped in front of me. "You thinking of pleasant things again?" he asked looking at my growing crotch. I just looked at him. I couldn't think of anything to say. He took the paper off me, climbed on to my lap, put his hands around my neck and looked me in the eye. "Am I the pleasant thing?" he said. I was stunned. But suddenly I felt the responsible adult disappear ou of the window. "Scott -- you are not a thing, but you ARE very pleasant!" I said. And with that, I pulled him to me and kissed him on those beautiful lips. After the kiss, Scott looked at me: "Thank God for that!" he said, "I didn't know what else to do to attract your attention!" To be continued ...