Date: Tue, 20 Nov 2001 10:00:26 +0000
From: Pistol Pete <beanderful@hotmail.com>
Subject: Toff, Chapter One

The following story is total fiction. Any relationship to persons living or
dead is purely accidental and unintended.

This story depicts sexual acts between people of the same sex (male), one of
whom is under age.  If you find this concept distasteful, or if it is
illegal where you live, or if you are underage, please stop reading now.

This story is dedicated to my friends and the administrators of
www.ghouldrool.com, the best Bulletin Board on the net for men who love and
protect boys.  To special friends, including my technical editor, who know
who they are and have my undying thanks.
A copy of this story has been previewing there for some time, as are
subsequent chapters.

If you have comments, I go by the name of beanie at www.ghouldrool.com, and
am a frequent visitor there.  You may reach me at beanderful@hotmail.com.


Toff

By Beanboy


I had been humoring my great aunt for a good five years.  You see, she was
82 years old when it started, and she felt she had to go back to Lebanon
where her father was born.  Her siblings had gone back there in the 20's,
but she had been too young.  Here it was the mid-nineties and she was asking
about it -- and while the war there was mostly over, it was not a safe
place.  Still, she wanted to go back.  And she had settled on me as an
escort.

Of course everyone told me not to do it.  I didn't have the heart to tell
her no, so we planned the trip, and she told me all the stories about the
old homestead that she'd heard over the years from her parents and her
siblings, about the vineyards out back and the olive trees, and about the
mountains covered with cedar trees.  She talked about her brothers and
sisters, the people of the town, and then she talked about all sorts of
relatives I'd never heard of.  This one and that one had come over to the
states over the years and visited and told stories about the house in
Carredeh.  Heck, they always came to Detroit - it had the biggest population
of Lebanese outside of Beirut.

We spent a week together every year in the winter when I went to Florida,
and then I saw her when she was in the Detroit area over the summers.  It
was almost a running joke every time I saw her.  She'd ask me when I was
going to take her to Carredeh.  I'd always help plan the trip with her, and
then we always put it off.

Well, Minnie was dead now.  She had a final stroke two weeks ago.  She
nearly made it to 2001 and I still hadn't escorted her over there.  But now
I was boarding a flight with her ashes.  I was a little scared to go to that
war-torn land, but it was the end of the year, and it would be both
Christmas and the end of Ramadan.  I figured both the Christians and the
Muslims would be celebrating enough that they wouldn't have a hard time
dealing with a backslid Christian like me.

I announced it in the office by email last week.  It's not often that a
partner in a young and growing consulting firm could take time off that
quick.  Shortly after I announced that I would be gone for the week between
Christmas and New Years to Lebanon of all places, I got a call from Emily
down in Accounting.

She had a friend who had a son who was visiting his estranged father in the
same town I was going to.  Yes, Detroit has a lot of Lebanese Americans.
The woman came to my office the next day and told me the whole sob story: a
husband who left for the old country, a boy who had to visit twice a year
but who couldn't speak Arabic.  The husband showed off the boy like a prize
every time, and then went up in the hills with his gangster friends the rest
of the visit and ignored the boy, leaving him to the mercy of the Arab boys
in his village.  She wanted me to check on him, and by coincidence, he was
also in Carredah.

Her name is Miriam Markley, but her son still kept his father's name, Ahmed.
  Mustapha Ahmed was 11 years old and the picture of him she showed me was
of a dour boy, slumped in upon himself and evidently lost in the wars
between parents who could not get along.  He had milky skin, betraying his
half Arabic heritage, but his dark hair and deep brown eyes showed his
lineage.  He had an intensity in those eyes, though they were hidden behind
narrow black rimmed glasses that reminded me of an arrogant Parisian.  While
he seemed unhappy, he was also clearly beautiful, with long eyelashes and
softly sculpted ears.  The picture was filled with all of the complexity of
his young soul, conveying need and hurt, but spirit as well.  I prepared
myself for a chore - though I generally got on well with boys, this one
looked like he'd soured on life at a very young age.  While I thought that
was a shame, a crime even for a boy to carry such a load at a young age, in
my anxiety about going into the heart of an alien culture known to harbor
terrorists and general strife, I didn't dwell long on the worries of an 11
year old boy.

Miriam Markley wanted me to befriend her boy while I was there, and get on
the same flight if I could for the way back.  I hadn't been around kids for
years.  OK, I wasn't that old at 35, but I hadn't been around kids since I
was a Boy Scout leader in college.  I had taught swimming to them, too.
That was good fun, but I'd been heavy on the career track since.  I would
probably have some of the same problems as this kid.  I didn't speak Arabic
either, and after meeting with my Aunt's family, I was going to have a few
days to kill in the tiny village over the holidays.  I had to deposit her
ashes.  I finally agreed to check in on the boy and help him.

So here I was, approaching Beirut airport with a backpack filled with camera
equipment (35mm SLR and a nifty digital by Kodak) and a big suitcase in the
jet's hold carrying clothes and an urn.  I'd never been on such an adventure
before.  Heck, I'd never been out of the States before.

The trip had wiped me out.  I hadn't slept because of the excitement, and I
must have read the Rough Guide for Lebanon three times.  A very rough guide
it was.  They gave all sorts of warnings on how to avoid criminals and how
to make friends with the locals.  I was confused and overloaded with
information.  We had changed in Rome to Lebanon Airlines, and that was an
adventure as well.  Every third guy looked like the prototypical terrorist,
though I knew they were just businessmen.  I was going to have to lose some
of my American prejudices if I was going to make it through the next week.

We deplaned easily, then I got my luggage and went through customs, and when
I got out I looked around the airport for someone meeting me.  I spotted her
quickly.  Of course, she also had a sign that said "Barker."  She was
gorgeous, with long dark hair, a deep olive complexion, and dark eyes.  I
was smitten.  She was lovely, but I found out soon enough that she was
taken.

"Mr. Barker, follow me.  My name is Anissa Bareb."  She said this and then
led me out in a business-like manner to a VW Golf.  Evidently my distant
relatives were not wealthy, but I had heard they had survived and had
doctors and lawyers sprinkled throughout the family.  Perhaps they just made
sure not to flaunt their wealth in a country that harbored so much poverty.

As we drove from the airport I turned to Anissa and asked.  "Bareb?"  My
family name used to be Barakat.  Are we related?"  I used the original
spelling, long since changed at immigration nearly 100 years ago to Barker.

"I suppose we are distantly related, Mr. Barakat.  The Barakat name was
Barakeb as recently as the turn of the last millennium, and many family
names sprung from it.  Bareb did as well."  Hers was a concise American
English, suggesting an American education.

"Did you go to school in the States, Anissa?"

"Yes, I attended Eastern Michigan University, Mr. Barker."

"Please call me Philip.  Ypsilanti is a great town.  I work in Ann Arbor and
went to school there, but I go to the farmer's market there quite regularly
for produce.  And I know Eastern Michigan University quite well - I recruit
for new employees there every year."  I was beginning to warm up to her as I
kept an eye at the roadside.  The urban decay I had expected had not as yet
appeared.

"I met my husband at Eastern, so I have much to be thankful for, Philip.
Also, I well know the rivalry between Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor.  I compare it
somewhat to the rivalry between the Arabic world and that of the West.
Beirut used to be the jewel of the world's culture just as Ypsilanti was the
intellectual center of Michigan in its early days.  Do you know where
Ypsilanti got its name?"

I was afraid I'd get sucked into a political conversation, but Anissa's face
was beaming to tell me a tidbit of history about my own country, so I
replied easily.  "No, I figure it must be an Indian name, but I'm guessing
not, at least according to your grin."

"Ypsilanti was a Greek general from their war of Independence.  Ypsilanti is
spoken of in a poem by Lord Byron, who was supposed to have had an affair
with his young son.  But the Lady's Literary Guild in what was then
Woodruff's Grove is not likely to have known that little bit of gossip.
They admired Byron and detested Mr. Woodruff, who owned a saloon where that
farmer's market is now.  So they persuaded their husbands to vote the man
out as mayor and change the name of the city."

"Oh, good story, Anissa!  I'll have to tell that around the office.  They'll
especially like the Byron bit.  You are right that Ypsilanti has gone down
hill since, but I find the town has an earthier energy as compared to the
urbanity of Ann Arbor.  I guess I'm a bit jaded about the old college town I
grew up in."

"The Ladies Literary Guild is also responsible for choosing the architect of
that very phallic water tower near campus.  And I mean no disrespect of Ann
Arbor, Philip, but I too came to love my time in Ypsilanti.  And I believe
you will find some of that same earthiness in Carredeh.  We are a simple and
generous people just like I found in Ypsilanti.  Life is slow in Carredeh -
in many ways we have kept our old-fashioned values despite all the troubles
since well before I was born thirty years ago."

"That's good to hear.  Perhaps my stay will be restful then.  I'm not sure
I've had more than a day off at a time in five years.  And I am a bit
nervous about coming here, given the violence in years past.  Frankly, I'm
on edge."  I would ask this woman out in moments if she were not married.
"What do you mean by 'old-fashioned'?"

"Good question.  Let me think."  She paused in her speech and continued on
her way out of the city.  The road opened up and we started to travel
quicker to the east, the countryside rising into mountainous terrain.  When
Anissa spoke again it was with a studied pace, not as a professor might, but
almost as if she was choosing each word carefully, like a poet seeking to
weigh each word down with layers of meaning.

"Carredeh is perhaps typical of a Lebanese village in the way we relate with
one another.  It is not that the family relations blur, but you will see
that our children are almost raised collectively, for instance.  Perhaps
that is a necessity, as men in the village are often gone for days and
months at a time, and boys particularly need a man's attention.  Even here
at the Christmas season, and with Ramadan just ending, you will find many of
the men away.  While it is a joyous time of year, the boys run rampant
regularly.  It is not unusual to catch them at some prank and also not
unusual for a man to catch some other man's son at mischief and spank him
right in the middle of the square.  I suppose we share parenting somewhat.
But we also share our love for the children, boys and girls alike."

"May I ask why the men are often away?"

"They must make a living, Philip.  Many are in the city by the week, working
long hours as Doctors and Businessmen.  Some travel the world on business.
And please, I don't mean to imply that men only punish boys.  Each man ends
up feeling very protective and loving of all the village boys.  It is not
uncommon for boys to find a special friend in a man in the village in the
absence of his father.  It is unfortunate that your Mustapha does not have
the advantage of that, as he only spends a few weeks here every year."

"You know about my duty to try and befriend the boy?"  I was surprised she
knew of Miriam Markley and her charge to me to watch over young Mustapha.

"Yes, his mother called and I spoke with her at length.  Toff - that is what
he likes to be called - is staying with me since his father is off managing
his grove of olives in the north.  He is a lonely boy, and he hasn't fit in
with others well, since he doesn't know Arabic.  Also, the games of the
local boys strike him as strange, or so I'd wager."

"That seems sad.  I've not met Toff before, but he seems a handsome lad.
But still, one would think that games the world over are much the same.
Surely in this town of collective parenting the children have learned to
include others."

Anissa looked at me as if I'd criticized her dress, or noticed a leaf of
spinach on her teeth, but the look departed her face and was replaced with a
smile quickly.  Her eyes had seemed to read the center of my soul.  "Philip,
the games are indeed different, in some ways.  In America you rarely have
the situation where boys have known each other since birth, and the games in
such a situation are far more intimate affairs.  It has been impossible to
get Toff involved.  He ran home red-faced yesterday, embarrassed and nearly
in tears.  He told nobody what was wrong, and I expect he'll be dying to
talk with someone like you.  We all hope your acquaintance with him does him
some good."

"Well. . ."  I didn't know exactly what to say, as it seemed more was being
expected of me than I had thought.  These people were being good to accept
me, even if I was a long lost relative, so I decided to help where I could.
"I guess I'll have a lot of free time.  And having someone from the U.S. to
talk to might be good.  I'll be glad to help.  I've only seen a picture of
Toff, though, and he seemed a sad boy in the picture."

"Oh, you've got it right there.  He's not a happy boy here, and generally
sticks around with the adults, since the other boys tease him."

"Why do they tease him?  Surely it isn't because he's American.  I assume
you're not the only one who has been to America."

"Correct."  She looked at me and slowed down a bit as she left the highway
for a smaller and slightly winding road that swung its way into the
mountains.  "Several of the people in Carredeh have been to America, and
really I thought Toff would be a novelty to the boys -- that they'd like him
because he was from America.  But most of the boys in the village are
Muslim, so that might be it, but even the Christian boys seem to exclude
him.  Frankly, the boys won't tell us why, and Toff keeps to himself."

I spent the next several miles musing to myself while Annissa kept her eyes
on the road.  I had expected to confront an alien culture, but for the most
part the scenery passing by reminded me of the hills above San Luis Obispo
in California, almost a fairy tale world.  Plane trees, as if described by
Plato.  Close cropped hills were interrupted by solitary and valiant trees,
standing tall and proud.  Well, I'd always thought it looked unreal, with
trees and open spaces that looked naturally manicured.  Doubtless this was
the result of flocks of sheep rather than mother nature hiring a gardener.

But this culture was alien of a sort.  When I grew up other parents would
never have thought to punish us and do more than make sure we were breaking
each others' bones.  There was caring, certainly, in the neighborhood where
I grew up, but nothing like the community Annissa was describing.

It was not just the captivating scenery that got to me, nor the notion of
community Annissa described.  I might not have liked Hillary Clinton much,
but her book about it taking a village to raise a child always attracted me.
  No, I was dwelling a bit on Toff, and how for a couple weeks at the most
festive time of a boy's year he was thrust into an alien culture where his
father abandoned him and the local boys made fun of him.  Annissa's mention
of boys attaching themselves to men as special friends intrigued me.  I
guess Toff probably needed such an informal big brother very badly.  Then
Annissa interrupted my musings.

"We're only a couple of miles away.  Look over there.  Those are boys from
Carredeh."  She pointed to the right and a couple hundred yards off four
boys were running through a field away from the village.  They looked
carefree, but their running seemed to have a purpose, such as running away
from something, or running to something important - there was definitely a
sense of purpose as they sped across the field and up a hill.

I thought to myself of my own childhood, beginning to remember a time when
all the boys in my neighborhood played tag on a huge stack of thousands of
hay bales, even though our mothers had said the stack harbored black widows
and snakes.  Just as I remembered this, I also remembered finding a magazine
with naked ladies in it with my friend Tommy, and I smiled, gazing back over
the fields. Tommy and I had had a lot of fun with that magazine.

"Stop the car, Annissa, what's that?"  I pointed across the field at a
solitary tree.  It was nearly a hundred yards over a rise, and against it
was a small figure, clearly naked.

"Annissa followed my gaze and stopped the little car, and I got out
immediately and started running."

"Philip, be careful!  It could be just a part of a game."  But Annissa got
out as well and came trotting behind me.

I am not an athlete, but I am trim, and it didn't wind me too much jogging
the 100 yards or so.  As I grew nearer the scene slowly became clear.  A boy
had been tied to a tree naked.  His head was slumped, and he was barely
shaking.  Perhaps he'd been here a while, but he was also shivering with
cold, as it was only 65 degrees out or so.

During my jog up the slope I'd taken off my jacket, and I reached in the
pocket of it for my small leatherman tool (something like a Swiss army
knife, with a small blade and scissors too).  My first instinct was to cut
the boy loose, but I stopped for a moment as his head rose and his eyes met
mine.  It was Toff.

"Don't worry, I'll get you free here in a second, Toff.  You're going to be
OK now."

Tears streaked his face, and a miserable face it was.  And just then I
smelled the odor of urine as I saw his head snap to his right and stare at
Annissa walking up the hill.  I barely registered that the other boys had
pissed on him before I followed his gaze and he shouted.

"No!"  His cry was small and filled with despair.  I guessed quickly that he
was fearful of a further compounding of his shame by her seeing him thus,
naked and covered in the piss of other boys.

"Annissa?"  I yelled this across the field.  "Will you stop for a moment
while I cut Toff loose and then cover him?"  She nodded and stopped and
turned around to face the road again.

"Don't worry, Toff, I'll get you covered up with my jacket after I untie
you, then we'll get you warm."

He nodded and his head slumped again.  It was all he could move.  His feet
were tied together and his arms were stretched spread eagle around the tree.
  It looked like it hurt him a little, his arms stretched backwards.  I
walked around the tree and folded the small knife blade out of my
leatherman, but it wasn't needed.  It was clear I could untie the thin
cotton cord.  It was the same kind of rope my mother had used for a
clothesline when I was a boy.  I untied the rope and it whipped around the
tree.  As I walked back around I saw that Toff wasn't as helpless as I'd
thought, and he was busy bent over facing away from me and untying the ropes
at his feet.

I picked up my jacket and readied it for wrapping around him, at the same
time admiring his creamy skin.  I was startled for a moment.  My first
instinct was to wrap him in my sport coat and lead him to the car and
safety, but my body told me otherwise.  What stunned me was the smoothness
of his skin, the length of his back and the buttons of his spine, the arch
and curves of his buttocks, and the seductiveness of his scrotum peeking out
from between his legs.  I lost my breath a little, frozen and admiring as
Toff struggled with his bonds, and then he lost his balance and it was all I
could do to catch him.  My right hand was still holding my sport coat, and I
caught his buttocks with that and lowered Toff to the ground, my left hand
holding to his waist.  He straightened up and looked at me, a mixture of
terror and sorrow and expectation on his face.

"Who. . ."  He croaked it about, a frightened sound.  He was shivering, and
whether it from the brisk air or from his ordeal I couldn't tell.

I bent to untie the rope around his ankles, and as my fingers worked on the
knot I looked at him and met his eyes again.  Brown eyes, deep and lustrous,
and they seemed larger than in the picture I had seen of him, though, and I
was struck dumb again, my fingers delaying at their task on the knots.  He
began to talk again, moving his lips with no sounds coming out, and I shook
my paralysis off and spoke.

"Oh, Toff, I'm Phil Barker.  I'm from the Detroit area just like you, though
I live in Farmington Hills, not in Dearborn.  I'm here for a week, and we're
flying on the same plane back with each other.  And, before you ask, I met
your Mom before I left and she showed me your picture and asked me to see
how you were.  Look down the hill - that's Annissa walking towards the car.
She picked me up at the airport."  I broke my gaze away from his eyes, and
only let myself glance briefly at his skinny form before continuing on the
knot around his ankles.

It was tighter than the other knot, and I was concentrating hard on it, when
something made me look up at Toff.  I slid my eyes along his legs, bare and
smooth, and past his crotch, covered with two protective hands.  I'd not
even seen his crotch as yet, and didn't even know whether he was circumcised
or not.  I took in his belly, so flat that his naval made the slightest
indentation, and then to his nipples.  Toff had tiny nipples, but they were
hard as rock candy and pointing at the sky.  I'd never seen such hard
nipples, I don't think, and involuntarily I started to salivate.  Finally,
after tracing Toff's neck with my eyes, I gazed on his face and discovered
that somehow, with just a smile, he had communicated to me and forced me to
look.  I smiled back, and let myself contemplate the corners of his mouth,
upturned just a little, then set myself again to the task at hand.

My fingers fumbled some more.  It felt as if Toff had discovered a terrible
secret - that I admired his body, lusted even.  And I felt his eyes watching
me as I finished untying the cotton rope.  He jostled and moved a bit, but I
refused his stare.  And as I finally finished untying the knot, I kept my
head down while unwrapping the rope from his legs.  I eventually finished,
and backing off a bit, I looked up with surprise.  He had taken my coat and
covered himself, but Toff was still smiling at me, almost teasingly.

"Well, Toff, it's time to get you back to the car.  How do you think we can
do this so we can keep your modesty?"

Finally the smile cleared from his face, replaced by worry.  It must have
just dawned on him again that Annissa was in the car, and that he was naked
save for a coat that would hardly cover him as we walked the 100 yards
downhill to the car.  I didn't let him worry for long.

"OK, how about this, Toff.  You clutch my coat around you, and I'll pick you
up and carry you and Annissa won't see a thing.  You're pretty skinny -
can't be more than 90 pounds.  I can do that for a couple hundred yards.  On
the way to the car you can help me figure out how to get you in the house
and to your room when we get there."

Toff nodded but was silent, and he adjusted the coat so it covered him from
nipples to knees, and I bent down to pick him up.  I slipped one arm under
his knees and he lifted his torso so I could slip my right arm under him.
With a heave I lifted him into my arms only to be struck by the strong smell
of urine coming from him.  I cradled him in my arms, and my right hand
grasped his right butt check as I turned and moved off down the hill.  I
couldn't believe how soft his butt was.  And I was a bit alarmed at that
thought.  What kind of perversion was I involved in?

"I think we're going to have to give you a bath, too, Toff!"  I tried to say
it as soothingly as possible, but I guess it must have sounded like a
criticism, because Toff buried his face in my neck as I began the trek
downhill to the car.  His hot breath was like a woman's sensuous kiss on my
neck and almost in my ear, and the inevitable happened.  With no hand with
which to adjust my erection, I resolved myself to Annissa's stares when we
got to the car.

"So, Toff, how are we getting into the house and to your room?"  I wanted
him to think creatively about the future rather than on the shame and
embarrassment he must have felt for the last hour or two.

"Our room."  He spoke softly, but he didn't need to be loud as he breathed
in my ear.

"Our room?"  I was puzzled.

I felt him nod.  "They told me this morning that I was going to share the
room with a man from Detroit.  I think that's you.  I'll get the couch and
you can have the bed."

"Well, Toff, after a rough day like you've had, I think you're going to get
that bed.  No arguments, OK?  Now, we're getting near the car, and I'm sure
you know from the cold that your butt is hanging out a little and Annissa
will see it.  I'm going t ask her to open the back door, though, and then
I'll lift you in.  At least she won't see your front, OK?"

He nodded again.  "If Mrs. Bareb drives in back there's a door there right
into our room.  The room's not even connected to the house.  It's on the
other side of the garden and next to the pool."

"A pool, Toff?  I didn't even remember to bring a bathing suit."  I hugged
him a little tighter.  "I'll make sure to tell Annissa what to do, but if I
know her after just an hour in the car, I bet she has already thought of it.
  She seems pretty smart."

"And she's pretty."  Toff said this while still breathing into my neck.  I
couldn't tell, but he seemed to be blushing.  Regardless, the heat of his
breath at my neck just caused my erection to throb all the more.

"Yeah, she is, Toff!  Not a doubt there."  I trudged the last twenty yards
or so to the car wondering how an 11 year old boy, who had looked at me
either seductively or as if worshipping a hero, could shift gears so fast as
to talk about a sexy woman like Annissa.  Perhaps I was only thinking of him
as seductive because of the effect his hot breath was having inside my
jeans.

"Toff, we're coming up to the car, and Annissa isn't looking, but she's
opened the back door, so I'm going to lay you on the edge of the seat, then
you can scoot across holding the coat over you, OK?  Do you want me to sit
in back with you, or up front?"  I said this as I leaned in and deposited
him on the seat.  Annissa was already in front, and as she got a whiff of
the dried urine on Toff she rolled down the windows.

"You can sit back here.  I don't care."

So I watched while he wriggled across the seat on his butt, struggling for
his dignity by clamping the coat to his middle with his arms as he went.
When done he was leaning against the other door looking first to me and then
to Annissa in the driver's seat.  He looked like a trapped rat, somehow, but
also like an angel who had lost his wings.  I resolved then to try my camera
on him as a present for his mother.  He was a beautiful boy, and I didn't
think anyone had ever told him so, much less taken his picture to brag about
it.

As I got in, Annissa spoke up.

"I'm sorry for what has happened, Toff.  I think we can get you out to the
guest house without anyone seeing.  Please let me ask two questions, though.
  First, are you hurt at all?"  With that, Annissa put the car in gear and
we were off the last mile or so to the house near the village of Carredeh.

Toff just shook his head, so I answered for him.

"Annissa, I haven't done a full examination or something, but nothing seems
damaged except for a little pride.  I think Toff's physically OK except for
maybe a little rope burn on his ankles."  I looked over at Toff and raised
my eyebrows as if to ask if what I'd said was right, and he nodded to me
solemnly.

"Second question, then.  Did the boys take your glasses as well as your
clothes, Toff?  While Mr. Barker here makes sure you're OK, I'm going to
have to deal with this, and I want to make sure exactly what they took."

Toff was again silent, but he also nodded, then looked to me as if pleading
for me to translate his silent answer for Annissa.

"That would be a 'yes', Annissa.  There were no signs of clothes up by that
tree, and no glasses either."  At that I turned to Toff and asked.  "Toff,
can you see at all without glasses?"

Another nod.  I hoped fervently that we might break the barrier and speak
verbally to each other before too long.

"Well, Toff, if it were me that they'd caught when I was your age I wouldn't
be able to see at all.  I was almost as blind as a mole when I was young."
I was running off at the mouth, but it was for a purpose.  Some people along
the road were staring at the car, and I didn't want Toff to notice them.  He
didn't need to think of himself as a curiosity if it could be helped.

Toff looked at me with a puzzled look.  His lips moved as if to speak, but
he remembered that he was shy and scared and he clamped his lips together
again as the car stopped.  Annissa Bareb spoke up.

"Gentlemen?  We're at the guest house.  Actually, we call it the Olive
House, since it is has served to store the olive presses for years, but now
we use it as a guest house, as Mustapha knows.  I'm going up to the main
house and I will leave you two alone.  Philip?  Please help Mustapha as you
have been doing.  I will be investigating into which boys in the village are
responsible, and I want you both to know they will be held responsible.
Philip?  I know you will be busy.  It is 4:00.  Dinner will be around 7:30
or so.  If Mustapha feels comfortable coming to dinner, then that is good,
but it is important that you come.  We need a witness in order for the boys
who did this to feel their punishment."

"I think I understand you, Annissa.  I think I can get Toff cleaned up and
dressed in good time.  After all, you're giving me a couple hours.  But tell
me, is this where I'm staying too?

"Phil, we are completely full in the house, and when Miriam called a couple
days ago we decided that we'd put you two together.  There is plenty of room
for you in the guest house.  There's a big queen sized bed.  I'm sure you
both will be comfortable.  Toff has been here a couple nights.  You like it,
don't you, Toff?"

Toff was still shy and embarrassed, but he gave Annissa a nod when she
looked at him, and then she blushed this time, and started back to the main
house.

"Phil, we expect you at the main house at 7:30!  Mustapha, we'd love to see
you, too!  Bye for now!"  With that Annissa walked from the car and up to
the main house.

We were alone in the back seat.  I looked to Toff and he shrunk a bit into
the corner of the seat.

"Toff, we have to get you in the guest house and get you cleaned up.  Can
you get out of the car yourself, or do you want me to help?"

Toff looked up at me and smiled a little bit, and then he pulled my sports
coat off of him and handed it to me.  His eyes did not meet mine.

"Does that mean you can walk here on your own?  Well, come on out!"  I
extended my hand and Toff reached out and held it.

He must have been all of four foot nine or so.  And so skinny.  He sat there
in the back of the car with his hand holding my sports coat outstretched in
his arm.  Otherwise, he was totally naked.  And that's when my eyes were
drawn to his crotch.  Toff was naked and bald and beautiful down there.  His
penis was tiny, as little as a mouse.  A very tiny mouse. and I didn't know
what to do as he stayed there in the corner of the car.  But I screwed
myself up and reached in and grabbed Toff by the legs.

"Toff, if you're not coming out of this car on your own, then I'm dragging
you out."  I tried to make a joke out of it, and when he still didn't move I
reached in and started to drag him out but Toff wasn't up for that, and he
shook my hand loose, dodged by me, and squeezed out the car door.  I looked
out of the car to see a skinny boy with a beautiful butt duck into the door
of the guest house.

I sat there a second to catch my breath.  Toff had taken it away, and there
was no doubt about that.  I'd gotten my first view of his entire body, and
it was angelic.  Yes, I'd seen his nipples hardened and his lovely backside.
  But now I'd seen that delicate part that made him a boy.  Toff's penis was
uncircumcised.  The whole of his parts were there and they looked beautiful
enough to take my breath away.  The excess of his foreskin puckered out like
a nipple, reminding me of his nipples from just twenty minutes ago.  As he
flashed past me, I wanted to pull him to me, and that need, that desire,
puzzled me.  I shook those new cobwebs from my head and closed the car door.
  After getting my luggage from the trunk, I headed on in to the tiny
guesthouse.

It was a small house, evidently consisting of just a large bedroom and a
bathroom.  The bedroom was sparsely furnished.  A couch to the right was
worn and old but comfortable looking.  Directly in front of me was a queen
sized, brass bed with a thick but plain quilt - inviting after my having
stayed up all night on the plane, not to mention the rush of adrenalin I was
coming down from after retrieving Toff from his predicament.  The bed was
flanked by a window on the right, open to allow the breeze to flow through,
and French Doors on the left, which opened out onto the pool.  I saw Toff's
suitcase to the left next to a dresser against the wall, with clothing
haphazardly spilling out.  Curiously, his glasses were on top of the
dresser.  Perhaps one of his attackers had brought it back.  There was a low
table at the end of the bed, and I put both my suitcase and carryon upon it,
then decided to go into the bathroom to look for Toff.  Besides, after the
long drive and excitement, I needed to empty my bladder.

"Toff?  Are you in the bath?"  I didn't hear any water running, but I
figured I should announce myself as I walked in the door.  And there was
Toff, turned around to pull the chain of the toilet, a towel wrapped around
his middle and some clothing strewn on the floor next to the tub.

"Well, Toff, it's good to see you a little more relaxed.  I hope you're
going to talk a bath.  We're expected up in the house for dinner in a couple
hours, but I figure we can get to know one another until then."

He turned around, not so much startled as unsure.  "Hello Mr. Barker.  Um,
I'm sorry about being such a mess when we got to meet.  And I'm really sorry
your coat got all messed up."  He looked to the tile floor rather than
directly at me, evidently still embarrassed.

"Toff, look up at me for a moment, OK?"

Slowly his head rose, but it was a full twenty seconds before his eyes met
mine.  His lip quivered a bit, so I smiled, stepped forward, and crouched
down to look up at him, his eyes staying in contact with mine the whole
time.

"Toff, we didn't meet in the best way, but I'm proud I was able to help you
out in a tough and embarrassing situation.  You don't have to apologize at
all, but I accept it, because you are very polite to do so."  He nodded
solemnly but said nothing.

"OK, then."  I reached over and gripped the knotted part of the towel around
his waist and tugged slightly just once.  "You're going to have to get
cleaned up.  From the smell of it, those boys pissed all over you.  It's not
anything to be ashamed of to be picked on, Toff, but getting clean is
important.  We can talk about it afterwards if you want.  But first things
first - why don't you run the tub now, OK?"  I tugged on the towel once
again, and then let go.

Toff nodded at me, and he blinked away a couple tears, and turned to the
faucets on the old claw-footed tub.  I turned to the toilet in desperate
need.  I unzipped, pulled out my penis and let go with a stream, and from
behind me I heard the water begin to fill the tub.  I didn't pay attention
to him, but just continued evacuating maybe a quart of urine from my
bladder.  When finished, I tucked myself in, zipped up, and turned around to
meet Toff's eyes staring at me.  I wasn't sure what he'd been able to see,
but his eyes were wide.

"Mr. Barker. . . "  He lost his power of speech yet again.

"First, Toff, call me Phil, please.  Or my friends used to call me 'Flip'
when I was your age, and you and ONLY you can call me that if you want.
Second, I hope that didn't make you uncomfortable, but I REALLY had to go!
And third, you might want to tend to that towel, because it's slipping."  He
made a grab for it as it started sliding down his very lean hips, and saved
it from revealing himself to me by just an inch or two.  Still, the sight of
his smooth skin, with the 'vee' of his hips pointing towards his member gave
me a jolt in my crotch.

Toff smiled just slightly.  "OK, I'll call you Flip.  And I wasn't
uncomfortable, it was just shocking that you peed right in front of me."  He
looked to the side for a moment to check the level of water in the tub, then
turned back with his smile still in place but with a bit of a quizzical look
in his eyes.

"Oh, well, Toff, I'm not very shy about things like that.  I guess it comes
from me growing up with tons of cousins, and we used to visit in the summer
and stay in a cottage, just all of us boys.  After dark we'd run around and
wrestle in our underwear or even  naked, so I'm pretty comfortable and don't
give a second thought to peeing in front of someone."  I hadn't thought of
those summers in a long time.  Suddenly an image of my cousin Pete, a year
younger, came to mind.  We were wrestling in the middle of the room in front
of four other cousins, and the rules were that when you pinned your
opponent, he had to kiss the head of your dick.  In this particular memory,
I remember it was our second match and I'd let Pete win, just so I could
peel back his foreskin and see what the head of his dick looked like.

I shook off that vision with some trouble, in a bit of consternation as it
had gotten my dick even harder.

"Toff, I'm going to go unpack while you get your bath.  Can I use the
drawers in that dresser in there?"  I figured since he clutched the towel
tightly with his fingers, he'd want some privacy.

"Yeah, those drawers are mostly empty, I think.  But I didn't get permission
or anything.  But. . ."  He wavered a bit, but mustered up his courage.
"Can you stay with me while I'm in the bath?"  His eyes flickered away from
mine, unsure of how I'd react, I suppose.

"It's a deal, Toff.  Let me just go in the other room a moment and I'll be
right back.  Turn off the water now, though, the tub's full."  He turned
around quickly, and as I turned his towel slipped off totally to reveal his
lean buttocks as he reached for the faucet controls.  I wrenched my glance
away and fled to the other room.

I was practically panting.  Even in my youth when we played the wrestling
games with each other I hadn't remembered my penis reacting with such vigor.
  Truthfully, I only left the bathroom so I could adjust my penis so that it
wasn't painfully trying to rise while trapped down the leg of my boxers.  I
reached in and adjusted my it so the head was trapped under the waistband -
at least that might keep old 'Slick' from becoming too noticeable around the
boy.  And it was living up to the name my old girlfriend Nancy had given him
- he was already leaking pre-cum.  I pulled out a couple Kleenex from the
top of the dresser and slid my hand back in my pants and wrapped them around
the head of my penis, which was still pulsing beyond my foreskin.

When I walked in the bathroom Toff was sitting in the tub and already
beginning to soap himself.  He was rubbing his smooth chest with the soap,
and I was pleased that he was keeping busy, as if having forgotten about the
humiliating experience of just an hour before.  Perhaps just keeping busy
was what was important now.

While looking at this beautiful boy all I could think of for a moment was
the abuse he'd endured from other boys.  I had seen abuse of that type when
I was a boy, though not so severe.  When I was a kid I'd been able to shrug
it off as something boys do - boys can be very cruel.  But Toff was in
another land, didn't speak the language, and ignored by his father.  My
mission to this country of depositing my aunt's ashes was nothing in
comparison to caring for this boy, and I was ashamed of my tumescence, now
shrunk in my shame.

I moved forward and propped my butt on the edge of the tub and Toff looked
up at me.

"Well, Toff, you look like you're getting to it."  The smell of ivory soap,
now floating in front of him, was overpowering the sickly sweet smell of
urine, but it was clear to me we might have to drain the bath and start
again before he was completely clean.

"Phil. . er. . Flip?  Can you wash my back?  It itches.  The tree was really
scratchy, and I can't reach."  His face was trusting, like he'd known me for
years instead of for less than an hour.  Refuse the offer?  Yet with such
trust, how could I have ever found him sexy enough to cause my dick to rise.
  I had some serious thinking to do, but now was not the time.  Now was the
time to help Toff.

"Sure, Toff, stand up and hand me that loofah over there."  A loofah is like
a coarse sponge.  I think it is the dried husk of some kind of vegetable
matter, and it would most certainly do for an itchy back.

Toff struggled to stand, his hands placed first on the bottom of the tub and
then on the sides.  He rose before me, his butt slick with soapy water as he
turned to grab the loofah.  He turned around quickly, uncaring, it seemed,
about his nudity.  I couldn't escape his nudity, however, as two inches of a
semi-erection pointed directly towards my face.  I shook my head slightly,
met Toff's eyes, and reached for the loofah.  After handing it to me he
immediately covered his penis with both hands and turned around with a
blush.  I felt I had to comment.

"Nice dick, Toff, but you don't have to show it off!  Remember, I saw it
earlier, though it wasn't that big!"  I hoped that my mild teasing was fine
with him as I soaked the loofah and began with long, slow strokes up and
down from his shoulder to just above his butt, and Toff responded by arching
his back and placing both hands against the wall on the other side of the
tub to steady himself.

"I'm not really shy, Flip.  It's just, I don't know.  I was embarrassed
before when those boys stripped me and made fun of me."  He fell silent a
moment, but pushed his back against the loofah.

"We can talk about that later, Toff.  Right now, just enjoy the back
scratching, OK?"  I continued, but now concentrating in smaller spots.  I
worked across the top of his back and then downward slowly.  I was rewarded
with sighs and Toff relaxing even as he held strong against the pressure of
the loofah.  When I got to the lower portion of his back I stopped
reluctantly.

"I think we're done, Toff," I said in wonder.  The sight of him earlier had
stirred my groin, but this time, as I stroked his back I only felt concern
for a boy teased and abused by other boys, boys who likely were good boys
most of the time.  While I'm sure I knew this before, it came to my
consciousness that my dick reacted to my emotions.  While I'd been ashamed
of my reaction before, I was proud of it this time, and so I resolved not to
rebuke myself further, but just to care for the boy.

Toff turned his head.  "Get my legs and my butt, too.  Please?"

"Your wish is my command.  First, I'm going to get rid of this dirty water -
then we'll let you rinse with clean water afterwards."  I unplugged the
drain and turned back to him poised in the same position, like waiting to be
frisked by a cop, with both hands bracing against the wall and legs spread.
I wet the loofah and started rubbing his right leg, but again, the
sensuousness of this was overpowering me.  His legs were skinny but
well-muscled, and while his butt was so lean as to be almost scrawny, his
pose thrust it out teasingly and accentuated every curve.

As I walked the loofah up his left leg, I noticed his balls pulled tight
against his groin and it occurred to me that Toff must be getting cold.  I
finished quickly with a couple scrubs of Toff's cheeks.

"All done, Toff!"

He pulled his hands from the wall and cupped his crotch as I leaned over,
attached a spray hose to the faucet, and turned it on.

"OK, Toff, turn around and let's rinse you off."  I looked up, thought, and
he was shivering a bit.  "Come on, now, the water's warm!"

"But. . ."  Toff was evidently near tears, and I suddenly got it.  He might
not be shy, but showing off a boner is another thing.

"Oh!  Jeez, I should have realized, Toff.  Tell you what, why don't I just
leave the sprayer on and head into the bedroom.  You can wash up yourself
and the towel is still right where you left it."  I turned and left, my own
erection deflating in sympathy for the poor embarrassed boy.

But I turned as I walked out.  "Toff?"

He turned his head around, a look of concern, but of innocence.

"It's OK to have a boner.  Really, it's nothing to be ashamed of."  Then I
went into the bedroom.

Frankly, I needed to bathe and change myself, but I didn't think I was
getting a bath while he was in there, so I went to my luggage to get out
some clean clothes.  Anything to distract me from the visions in my head of
a naked boy so beautiful as Toff.  I chose another polo shirt and a sweater,
and fresh boxers.  I needed to look my best as I met the rest of Annissa's
family in just two hours or so, so I also pulled out my best khakis.  And so
I went about dressing for later.

I was all the way down to my boxers when Toff peeked around the corner.

"Are you going to take a bath, Flip?"  He yelled this from the bathroom.

I sniffed my armpit and made a face.  "Yeah, I think so, Toff.  I'll go on
and do it while you get dressed."  I then walked towards him, just his head
curled around the door frame, and as I passed him I couldn't resist rubbing
my hand through his hair.

He smiled a little and didn't shrink back.  The impression I'd gotten from
his mother and from Annissa was of a boy drawn within himself.  Toff may
have been that around them, but he was just a boy around me, eager for a
little affection and responsive as well.

"Is there another towel in here, Toff, or do I get the one around your
waist?"

Toff whipped off his towel at that and held it up to me.  "I hope it's not
too wet!"  My eyebrows arched involuntarily and I gazed at his naked beauty.
  He was small again down there, just a nubbin no bigger than the end of my
thumb with a nipple of foreskin extending beyond the end and testicles so
small that I had to strain to see.  I WAS straining, and then I noticed that
Toff knew exactly what I was looking at.  He didn't cover up, but shot me a
little grin.

"You know, Toff, you're a very good looking boy."  I felt foolish.  What if
he thought I was making a pass or something?  I couldn't think of what to
say and I was almost dizzy with what I saw of him.  With nothing to say, I
turned around and walked to the tub and began to fill it once more.  When I
adjusted it to the right temperature, I closed the toilet lid and set down
the damp towel Toff had given me, and turned to the door in time to see Toff
walk back in, this time dressed in boxers.  I silently thanked God that he
wasn't naked still.  I was shy about my erection just as Toff was.

"Toff, what are you doing in here?"  He hesitated at my question.

"I just wanted to talk.  You don't mind, do you?"

"Well, I guess I was in here while you were in the bath, so that's OK, but
I'm not going to take as long as you.  I just need to get the grit off from
the plane."

"I know what you mean, Flip.  I went to sleep on the plane good, but when I
woke up I felt all sweaty."

"Come on, Toff, boys your age you don't sweat that much!"  I couldn't think
of what to do to stall, so I just took off my boxers, turned around, turned
off the faucets which had filled the tub, and climbed in.  When I was
finally settled in, I turned towards Toff to get the shampoo and saw his jaw
had dropped.

I didn't say anything, guessing that he was somehow shocked at seeing me
naked.  I wasn't all that well-endowed, and puzzled at why he was so
surprised.  To let him recover his composure I sank under the water to wet
my hair, and got a little water in my nose and immediately came back up
sputtering.  I shook my head, spraying water a bit, and when I finally
opened my eyes and caught my breath Toff was standing there with a smile and
water dripping off his cheek and his chest.

"Sorry, Toff, didn't mean to get you wet."  I poured the shampoo and started
in for a quick bath.  I'd noticed he was still watching me attentively, but
the shocked look had been replaced with an easy smile.

"It's OK.  Umm, can I ask you something?"  I looked through the lather at
him and he was fidgeting a little.

"Sure, Toff.  What's up?"  I continued as usual, hoping he'd feel
comfortable if I just went through my washing as though nothing was the
matter.

"Umm, not really a question. . ."

"Take your time, boy!"  I flashed him a little wink and washed my hair and
then dunked myself under the water.  When I arose I felt refreshed for the
first time since the flight took off from Detroit.  I turned to Toff and
asked.  "So, do you have your comment ready?"

"I guess.  It's just that your dick is just like mine, with the end still
there.  Not like the boys around here."  He was of mixed emotions it was
clear.  I suppose he was timid at talking about my dick, thankful that I was
uncut just like him, and reliving the humiliation of the afternoon as well.

"Yeah, Toff, My Mom didn't want mine cut, which was pretty rare when I was
born.  Almost all the other guys my age are cut."

"My Mom did the same thing.  She said it's one of the biggest fights she had
with my Dad, and right after I was born, too.  I guess everyone over here
gets theirs cut."

"Well, the Muslims do it because of their religion, and I suppose the
Christian Lebanese just do it too, because it's so common or something.  I
don't really know.  You're lucky, you know.  Sometimes Muslims do it when
the boy is older.  That's got to hurt like a mother!"  Toff immediately
grabbed his crotch defensively and giggled, and I giggled too as I pulled
the plug, hooked up the sprayer and stood up to rinse. His giggle was
infectious.  It wasn't long before I was done, and I was conscious that a
boy staring at my naked form might make my dick hard, but we were running
out of hot water, and the chill kept things under control.  By the end I was
freezing.

"Quick, get me the towel, Toff!  I'm chilled to the bone!"  I hopped from
one foot to the other, splashing water a little in the draining tub.

"Nope, Flip, I don't see no bone!"  he giggled uncontrollably as he handed
me the towel, and I hid my surprise at his sexual innuendo as I roughly and
quickly toweled myself off.  When I finished, I decided to give him a
response.

"Well, Toff, it's not like I'm an 11 year old who gets boned up every time
the breeze blows!  Watch out with that smart mouth or I'll snap you with
this towel and those boxers won't protect that butt of yours all that much,
you know!"  But I did not snap him, instead draped the towel over his
giggling head and swiftly fled to the bedroom to get dressed.

By the time he entered I had donned a pair of boxers and kept my dignity
intact.  I reached down to grab my slacks and started dressing.

"Toff?  We've got an hour and a half until we have to go up to the house for
dinner.  What do you want to do?"

"I don't want to go up to the house."  Toff's embarrassment returned and a
frown appeared on his face and tears began forming in his eyes.  I hadn't
yet put a leg in my slacks, so I just dropped them and grabbed Toff off the
ground and into my arms and hugged him tight.  He wrapped his legs around my
waist and tucked his head on my shoulder and silently cried, and I paced the
room for a bit, holding him tight and stroking his back.

I must have been pacing for a good ten minutes when he finally stopped
sobbing and lifted his head off my shoulder, leaving it tear stained.  He
hugged me tighter for a moment, then kissed my neck.

"Well, what was that for, Toff?"

"I, uh, my Dad never hugs me or anything, and I just wanted to.  That's
why."

I sat on the bed, which placed Toff squarely in my lap and facing me.

"Let's talk, Toff.  Getting this off your chest will get you past it
quicker.  Exactly what did those boys do to you today?"  I still held my
hands around his back, but my whole focus was to his eyes.

He held his focus on my eyes, even though it was clear he was embarrassed.

"Bashir told me to come along and play tag in the olive grove, and when we
were halfway there they all jumped me.  Then they all jumped me, all five of
them.  They stripped me and laughed at my dick, then they tied me to the
tree and they laughed at me crying, and then the peed on my dick.  They even
took my clothes and glasses."  His head sunk at this last bit, so I pulled
him in for another hug.  Almost my their own volition, my lips kissed the
top of his head after a couple minutes.  He immediately looked up at me.

"Why'd you do that?"

"I'm not sure, Toff.  I guess you smelled so much better than before, I
thought I'd have a taste!"

"It was my dick that was stinky!  You going to taste that?"  He giggled and
I knew we were past the rough spots, but my dick started to rise.

"Only with some ice cream on top, Toff!  I like my dicks a la mode!"  I
continued the playfulness, then poked his nose and said, "By the way, your
glasses are on the dresser.  I think Bashir must have felt badly for what he
did.  One of the boys at least - not sure which one."

Toff twisted on my lap at that moment to look at the dresser.  His motion
shifted my boxers and Slick popped through the opening.  Then Toff struggled
out of my arms and ran over to get his glasses, giving me time to tuck my
penis back into my shorts without him having seen it.

He turned around after he got his glasses on his face, and I was stunned.
He was no longer a cute boy, but looked sophisticated or something.   All of
a sudden he looked like some kind of French god, his naked torso shining in
the light and those glasses like Sartre's or something.  Lord, could I be
falling in love with Sartre?  It was too ridiculous to consider and I
laughed out loud.

"Why are you laughing at me?"  Toff looked quizzically, as if he was
offended.

"Oh, Toff, I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that the difference between
what you look like without your glasses and with them is really a lot.  You
know, those are almost sexy, don't you?  When I first went to college I had
a teacher who had those glasses, almost exactly the same ones, and I had a
total crush on her."

"Really?  I picked this kind when I looked in a French magazine.  You should
have seen the fight I had with my Mom.  She thought they were fag glasses."
With that he moved forward to me, and I noticed that his boxers were tented
out just like mine had been.  Odd.  But I tried desperately to ignore it,
even though his dick was straining to stick out of them,  He came up to me
until we were face to face, me sitting on the bed and him walking up with
his face as blank as possible.

"Toff, tell me what you are thinking."

"Well, Flip, I'm thinking that as a boy, I'm not wanted here in Lebanon."
He looked up at me with the deepest dark eyes.  His words had been carefully
chosen, words a boy would not usually choose.  Almost an adult vocabulary,
actually.  "And I am thinking that you are a really good guy to make friends
with me."

I laughed and rocked back on the bed.  "Who wouldn't like to be your friend,
Toff?  You're a good looking boy!"

He looked sober all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?"

"Toff, Come on in here."

He came in to me and I hugged him tight, rubbing the top of his head with my
left hand.  We held it there for a while, then I checked my watch.  It was
6:15 and an hour before we had to go and meet the relatives at the main
house.  Well, an hour and fifteen minutes, but I'm habitually early, and I
wanted to make sure Toff was going to be OK with it after his traumatic
experience of the afternoon.

"Toff?  I haven't gotten so many hugs in years!  It makes me happy, you
know!"  I nuzzled him on the cheek and then pushed him back to look at him
once more.

"Now, Toff, we have a whole hour or so!  What do you want to do?"  It was
duck by now, and the room was getting dark since we'd put no lights on.
Toff didn't seem to want to talk anymore, and I wanted to encourage him to
have fun.  As I waited for his answer, with the small boy on my lap, I
looked down and noticed that he, too had an erection.  It was sticking up
out of the opening in his boxers.

Toff followed my eyes, then swooped his hands down to cover up, his face
getting red with embarrassment immediately.

"Toff, what did I say earlier?"

"Um, that it wasn't anything to be ashamed of?"

"Let's put it this way, Toff.  A dick is the same thing as all people.  It
is a beauty of life.  And yours is pretty damned beautiful.  And if you
think you're the only one who gets a stiff one, you're pretty wrong, you
know!"

Toff looked up at me, shocked.  "You mean you do too?"

"Yup, right now, even!  But answer my question, boy, what do you want to do
for the next hour?"  I poked him the ribs to get a giggle, and he giggled
with me for a moment.

"Let's go swimming!"  With that Toff moved off my lap and ran out the French
Doors and I heard a splash shortly after.  I guess it was my duty to follow.
  I got off the bed and followed, and if Toff was going to swim in his
boxers, I guess I could too.

It was getting chilly out.  Unseasonably warm, it was still only 60 degrees
Fahrenheit outside, and going lower, but Toff was already in the water at
the deep end.  The pool was surrounded by tall evergreens and even if the
sun was low in the sky the pool would be dark and silent.  The only light
came from our little bungalow, and as I got to the edge of the pool my feet
nudged something.  Boxers.  Toff had shed them.

"Toff, are you naked in there?"  I looked straight at his head as he treaded
water, still wearing those glasses of his.

"Yup!  Bet you won't do it!"

I am not shy at taking a dare.  I immediately whipped them off and leaped in
with a cannonball just a couple feet from Toff.  I rose out of the water and
shook my head to get the water out of my eyes and Toff wasn't there.  It was
pretty dark, but I was surprised that he was gone, then I felt him climbing
on my back.  He'd evidently gone underwater and was surprising me.

And all of a sudden he was on my back trying to dunk me.  No longer a timid
boy, he wrapped one arm around my neck and the other on my head and the
surprise attack was enough to take me under the water.  I came up sputtering
in a moment and Toff was staring.

The water was somewhat cold, so there wasn't any danger of embarrassing
erections.  We played for a long time, carefree.  I tossed Toff around, and
we swam through each other's legs in the dark, and even though we
accidentally touched each other, there were no incidents and I felt as if
I'd gone back to my childhood.  Playing with a boy and just being there for
him made me elated.  We lost track of time, and eventually I got winded.

I swam to the side, exhausted, and in short order Toff came up to me.  He
swam up, his face a little pensive, and he hung on my arm a little as I
floated with my back to the side of the pool and my arms holding the side.
I propped myself up a bit, into sitting position, and he climbed onto me.

"Toff, I'm a bit tired, and we have to get in and get dressed for dinner."

"Flip?  Thanks for having fun with me.  I haven't had fun this whole
Christmas break.  Not for the last five years."  He was somber by now.  His
lips were twitching a bit as he said it.

"Toff, I'm more than happy to have fun with you.  You're a good kid to be
around.  Honest!  I'm glad I get to spend time with you these next few days.
  But we have to go in and have dinner with the family, you know.  We have
to get out of the pool in just a minute."  He had wrapped his legs around me
by now, and his penis was nestling against my hip.  My reaction was an
erection, and I was startled once again.

"OK, Flip!"  He was short with me, and he pulled away.  I was afraid he
thought I was offended at his own beginnings of an erection.  He moved away
from me and then stood up with his feet on my legs, stepped onto my
shoulders and climbed out, giggling the whole time, not shrinking about
showing me his little erection as it passed right before my eyes.  Heck, he
almost poked my eye out with the little thing.  I stared as he lingered just
a moment before stepping over my head and into the house.

"I'm right behind you, Toff!"  It was the only thing I could think to say.
And as I moved to the ladder.  I looked up and was enraptured by Toff's
skinny butt as he walked away, and then I looked up and he had turned his
head and smirked at me.  But he continued into the house and grabbed the
towel and started drying right there in the middle of the french doors.

I pulled myself out of the water and shook my head.  I was amazed.  I hadn't
dated in five years.  My life was absorbed with work.  Heck, I hardly even
masturbated.  And now I found myself as hard as a diamond and because of an
11 year old boy.  I was mixed up.  Seriously mixed up, but I knew one thing.
  Toff was the object of my affection.  And while I might have to reign in
my dick, I knew he needed my affection.  I also understood that he was
flirting with me, even if innocently.  And while that made me uncomfortable,
I resolved we would talk about it.

So I rose out of the pool and walked into the cottage and over to Toff.  We
said no words, and I took the towel he offered and dried myself and we went
in and got dressed and got ready to go to the big house for dinner.

I walked into the cottage figuring that there was no chance Toff would ever
think a hairy man like me was as desirable as I thought he was, so I shook
any lecherous thoughts from my head and regarded myself in this pleasurable
task of being a friend to Toff.

Toff was already drying off, but he finished up and tossed me the towel and
quickly got dressed in his boxers.  With the nice bits covered I was able to
concentrate on drying and dressing.  Toff, on the other hand, had finished
dressing by the time I was ready to delve into my bags for clean clothes,
and he sat on the bed and watched me as I knelt and picked up my clothes.  I
faced him to dress, and he clearly was deep in thought.

Once my naughty bits were covered I decided to broach the subject.  "So,
what are you thinking about, Toff?"

He looked up at me all innocent, then answered.  "Not much.  I guess I was
watching you, you know?  You're so big compared to me!"

"Come on, Toff!  I'm not all that big!  I'll bet your Dad is taller than me.
  And I'm not heavy or anything."  As I pulled my shirt over my head I
looked at him blushing and realized what he meant.  "Oh, you mean my penis,
Toff?  Really, it's kind of average.  Yours will be kind of average, too, I
bet.  Almost all of us guys are.  It might be a little thing now, but it was
big enough to almost poke my eye out there when you climbed out of the
pool!"  I figured a little reassurance and a little teasing went together.

"Philip?"

I looked down at him and sighed.  "Call me Flip, Toff.  We're friends,
remember?"

"OK, Flip.  I'm embarrassed to go in there.  They all know I was tied up
naked and pissed on.  It hurt me inside."  He shuffled his feet and looked
at his feet and mumbled as we stood just outside the guest house.

Toff, the best revenge might be to just hold your head up and face them.  I
know it won't be easy, but I'll be glad to give you all the hugs you need
afterwards.  But think about it, if they think they haven't harmed you, then
they won't do it again.  Besides, I'm here to protect you now.