Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2011 10:39:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Arthur Arthor Subject: Simon and William I posted the story MEETING JEFF to the Adult Friends section last month with the stipulation that it would be my one and only post. I also stipulated that I would not answer any messages regarding said story. Several complimentary messages were sent, read and appreciated. One message was a plea for help in editing and posting several episodes from the life of one Simon X, a sufferer of a public education. Being temporally incapacitated due to an automobile accident, I have time on my hands to take poor Simon's two-page first-person tale and fluff it up a bit to a readable third-person narrative of events. He supplied the warp and I the woof while weaving this yarn. As with MEETING JEFF, I will invite the reader to put themselves in the story by saving the text to file and opening it in your notepad. Then, using 'CTRL H', you can 'Find' Simon and 'Change to' your choice of names for the older of the two characters and 'Find' William and 'Change to' your choice of names for the younger. Maggie is Simon's mother. Sarah is William's mother. Stephen is William's young friend in Florida that introduced him to sex. [It was called to my attention that in MEETING JEFF I had one of the characters living at the Jeffersonian so that after changing Jeff's name to Walter the Jeffersonian became the Walterersonian in one reader's efforts. I don't know what the problem is with that. I've been in the Walterersonian many times.] Now Simon's story: It was a dark and stormy night . . . no, too much of a cliché. Let's start over. I was born in a house my father built. NO! That's too Nixonian and not third-person. Let's try it again. Simon was fourteen years old when one of his mother's childhood friends, Sarah, came to visit. It was an unannounced visit and she was in a fit of rage after leaving her philandering and abusive husband. She had packed her bags and taken their son, William - a seven-year-old towhead, from their Florida home to seek refuge in Atlanta with her old friend, Maggie - seemingly, the only friend she could trust. There they were, standing at the door looking pathetically road weary and dejected. After the initial shock of seeing Sarah at the door in such a condition and several hugs and kisses were exchanged, introductions were made. Simon's father had just left for work and Simon was the only other person in the household at the time. Sarah said, "Maggie, I could not take it any longer. I've left the . . . can we go somewhere and talk privately," she ended with a whisper. "I understand. Simon, fix William a bowl of cereal or whatever he wants for breakfast," said Maggie as she led Sarah to the back garden. They sat on the garden wall and talked for over an hour. In the meantime, after leaving William with his cereal, Simon had stretched out on the living room sofa to watch cartoons. William finished his cereal and sought Simon. Simon was snickering at the sight of the coyote being flattened by an anvil and was unaware of William's presence in the room. The screen went blank for only a second before the commercials started but, in that second, Simon could see the reflection on the screen of his environs. He could see that William was standing behind him looking over the back of the sofa at his reclined form. "Did you have enough to eat, William," asked Simon. "Do you have eyes in the back of your head?" asked a surprised William, for he had thought himself to have been rather imperceptible. Stealthy is not a word associated with most seven-year-olds, but William's father had taught him early in life to be seen and not heard. A cowed William surmised that it would be even better to not be seen nor heard; and was practiced in stealthiness. "Have a seat, William, and watch the 'toons," said Simon to his guest. William plopped himself down on the recliner and crossed his legs. From Simon's vantage point, all he could see of William was from the corner of his eye and then only his feet. The commercials ended and the roadrunner's 'Beep, Beep!' caused Simon to again turn his attentions to the television. After a while he realized that, while he had been laughing and slapping his thigh at the buffoonery on the screen, William was silent. Simon snapped his head to look at William and William flinched and gave Simon a slight smile. Simon realized that William had been watching him and not the cartoons. "This is one strange kid," thought Simon as he turned back to the television. Simon's laughter was more subdued and lessened because he found it hard to focus on what he was seeing. He was more interested in what William was seeing. It's one thing to have that feeling that someone is watching you and quite another to know definitely that someone is watching your every move. Simon stood momentarily, cleared his throat, sat down on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table. In this position he could see his guest as well as the television. In his maneuvering his underwear had become ensnared with his scrotum and automatically his hand reached to adjust himself. He pulled at the offending fabric through his trousers. Raising his ass slightly he tugged the rear hem from his ass cheeks and settled down all comfy. He noticed that during this process William was watching his every move. He even raised his head and leaned forward ever so slightly to take it all in. William turned to watch the cartoons when Simon looked at him, but Simon was soon aware that he was again being closely observed by his guest. He stood and said, "I'm going to get a glass of milk. Would you like one?" "No, I'm fine, thanks," was William's barely audible reply. As Simon walked past William he noticed the child's eyes were focused on his crotch. When he returned to his seat, he noticed that Simon's focus was still riveted to his crotch. Simon had heard the expression 'crotch gazer' before and now he knew what it meant. After a while, Simon stretched his arms over his head, yawned and then reached to again adjust his underwear. This time he grabbed his scrotum, pulled it free and absentmindedly scratched his balls in the process. William leaned forward and asked, "Does that feel good?" Simon furrowed his brow, cocked his head and asked, "Does what feel good?" for, in reality, he was unaware that he had done anything out of the ordinary. "Did it feel good when you touched yourself? You know, down there," William added as he pointed to Simon's crotch. Like a rocket, Simon stood and walked to the kitchen to look out the window at Maggie and Sarah. Sarah's head was on Maggie's shoulder, still crying and telling Maggie of their woes. William was in fear of Simon's actions. He thought that Simon was going to tell his mother what he had said. Simon returned to the living room and seated himself as he had been. Then he asked, "What do you know of," he paused and then continued, "of 'down there?'" "Well, mine feels good when I touch it," said William. "I like to play with it when I'm alone," he added. William then stood and moved to sit beside Simon. He said, "It's fun! Let me show you." He then placed his small hand in Simon's lap and started feeling Simon's covered treasures. "Gosh! Simon, yours is huge," said an amazed William. He felt Simon's balls and ran his fingers up to grope the girth of Simon's expanding penis. "Wow!" said William, "you are as big as my Daddy." "You mean to tell me that you do THIS with your Daddy?" asked Simon. "No, silly, but I've seen it enough. He likes to walk around naked whenever he can; and I've seen him fucking Momma," William expounded. Simon heard the backdoor open and pulled William's expert hand away from his crotch. William returned to the recliner and both boys were again watching the television as their mothers came into the room. Maggie told Simon that she and Sarah were going to find an apartment in the afternoon, but now, because Sarah had driven all night, she needed a couple of hours of sleep. She asked William, "Would you like to get some sleep, Honey, or did you sleep in the car on your way here?" "I'm fine, thank you, ma'am," said William. "Simon, take William to the pool or the rec-room while Sarah sleeps. Then, while we're out this afternoon, I need you to stay with William. You can find some games to play I'm sure," said Maggie. "That's for sure," said Simon as he took William's hand and the two of them left for the rec-room. The two boys played checkers until the others in the rec-room left and they were again alone. "So, you like to play with it. Did you like playing with mine?" asked Simon. "Ya, it was fun. Can we do it some more?" asked William. "Listen, I play with mine all the time. However, I never even discovered the joy of masturbation until a couple of years ago," said Simon. "Master what?" asked William. "That's what it's called when you play with it - masturbation. Some call it jacking off, or beating your meat, or pounding the pud, or choking the chicken, or . . ." continued Simon until William interrupted by saying, "Beating your meat. That's what Stephen calls it, beating your meat." "Who's Stephen?" asked Simon. "Stephen is my bestest friend ever. He's my neighbor in Tampa. We play with each other all the time. We have secret games, or, I guess we did have secret games until Momma brought me here. Can we have secret games, Simon? I would like that very much," said William. "Ya, I think secret games would be fun." said Simon. Simon never before gave a thought to the prospects of playing with another boy's penis and would have likely refused William's request had William's touching him not electrified his every nerve. He wanted to be touched again. Maggie came to the rec-room and told the boys that she and Sarah were leaving and instructed them to be good. They watched as their mothers drove off and Simon took William's hand and they ran back to the townhouse. "Let's go to my bedroom," said Simon as he pulled William up the stairs. As soon as they were in the confines of Simon's room, William again grabbed Simon's penis through his trousers. It was a penis which was hard and aching to be free. Simon said, "Slow down, little man, slow down. Let's get comfortable." With that said, Simon unfastened his belt, unzipped and dropped his trousers to the floor. William followed suit and continued by removing his jockey shorts. They removed their shirts, shoes and socks. There they stood, William naked, hard and ready to play some secret games; Simon in just his jockey shorts was shivering with anticipation of what was to come. Simon wanted to laugh on seeing William's diminutive penis, but caught himself for fear that William would be insulted and call the whole thing off. William's hairless scrotum was held tight to the base of his erect fingerling of a penis. It was about two-and-a-half inches long and reminded Simon of his own little finger. He was circumcised and the head of his penis was not flared like every other penis Simon had seen, but, rather, more like a finger tip. "That's so cute," said Simon. "Thank you," replied a beaming William, "Let me see yours now." Simon dropped his jockey shorts and watched William's reaction as his engorged penis was liberated. "Let me touch it, Simon, please. Let me touch it," said an eager William. Simon sat on the bed and William placed his hand on Simon's member and started feeling the hot flesh. He hefted his balls and gently massaged them with his finger tips. Simon reclined and supported himself on his elbows as he surveyed his new friend's manipulations of his most private parts. William ran his fingers through Simon's pubic hair, smiled and said, "why is it not like the hair on your head? It's all curly and . . ." "Don't worry about that. It is as it is. That's all I know," said Simon. William's tiny fingers could not reach around Simon's shaft. He gripped it as best he could and jacked it a couple of times. He kept looking and marveled at the size and how it would react to his touch. "Does that feel good?" asked Simon. "Do you like touching it?" "It feels nice. I like it a lot. Stephen's is not much bigger than mine. He's ten and his balls are twice the size of mine, but his penis is nothing like this," said William. William then scooted his butt up the bed by Simon and took Simon's hand and placed it on his own penis. "Play with mine now, please, Simon," he implored. Simon obliged by rubbing his finger tips lightly over the boy's penis. He placed his hand on the top of William's thigh and, with his thumb and forefinger, explored the tightly packed scrotum and was surprised to feel one olive sized testicle which retracted into the lad's body as he felt it. He lifted the penis and again told William that his penis was cute. He returned to an upright position and asked William to sit on the edge of the bed between his splayed legs. He pulled William to his chest, placed his chin on his shoulder and looked down on his tiny friend's tiny friend. He then grasped William's penis with a finger and thumb of each hand and started a slow masturbation. William cooed and pressed his head back harder on Simon's chest as he instinctively rocked his pelvis to the music Simon was playing. After a couple of minutes, William asked Simon to stop. "Did I hurt you, little man," asked Simon. "No," said William, "but it needs a little spit to make it feel better." With that, William leaned forward and drooled a stream of spittle onto the tip of his penis. "Okay, do it some more, Simon. Do it some more," he said as he pulled Simon's hand back into position. It was not long until William's body was shaking with the onset of a crescendo of bodily pleasure. "Faster, Simon, faster," he instructed. Simon tried to match the speed with which he stroked himself. He knew that when he masturbated at the lightning speed of eight strokes a second the feeling was as good as it could be. William's legs were shaking and his pelvis raised almost off the bed as Simon sent him into bliss. Simon was pleased with himself and the pleasure he had given his new friend. "How was that?" Simon asked. "Can you do that again? Simon, can you do that again?" William asked with a quaking voice. "That was the bestest EVER," he added. "You do me now, and I'll do you again later," Simon said. William pushed Simon back onto the bed and grabbed his still rigid penis and started to pull the skin up and down in as rhythmic a fashion as he could. However, on his down-stroke he was smacking Simon's balls with such force that Simon stopped him and told him that he had better do it himself. He took over the stroking and William seemed heartstruck that he had failed to give pleasure to Simon. "Wait a minute, Simon. I know something that will make it feel good for you," William said as he pulled Simon's hand away from pleasuring himself. He then said, "I told you that I've seen my Daddy and Momma fucking. They aren't aware I'm watching, but I see everything that goes on. Momma does this sometimes to Daddy. He then pulled himself closer, bent down and, with his head on Simon's belly, he kissed, licked and then took the head of Simon's penis into his mouth. Simon's eyes widened and he was at a loss for words as William's tongue in his moist, hot mouth was giving him pleasures beyond measure. Simon stroked William's hair and told him how wonderful his tongue felt on his penis. William took as much as he could of Simon's penis into his mouth. He was only able to take about three inches, but what he did to those three inches was about as much as Simon could take without screaming for mercy. William paused and raised his head to scrutinize Simon's penis. He had tasted something other than hot flesh and wondered what it was. He noticed a clear liquid oozing from Simon. He touched it and as he pulled his finger away he saw that there was a string of the fluid between his finger tip and Simon's penis. It snapped free and he rubbed it between his finger and thumb and realized that it was not urine, as was his first thought, but, rather, something slick. Raising to an elbow, he asked Simon, "what's this stuff?" "It's stuff that comes out when you do it right. You know how you spit on yours, well, this stuff takes the place of that and makes jacking off easier," said Simon. "Oh! Is it the stuff that makes babies?" asked William. "No, that comes out when you finish. I guess you don't know as much as I assumed. Listen, Spike, I'll tell you when I'm ready to shoot that stuff out and you can move out of the way or you will get a mouthful and you may not like it," instructed Simon. "Spike? Why did you call me Spike? I'm William, remember?" said William. "I called you Spike because that's what your cute little penis is like - a spike," Simon said. "Cool, I like that. Spike! I'm Spike," said William he as again lowered his head to Simon's belly and returned to sucking Simon. After five minutes, Simon asked William to sit back up and added, "You're doing great, Spike, but I need to help it a bit and beat it a little." With that said he grasped his shaft and did twenty seconds of 'eight-to-a-bar' strokes. He thought about finishing it off, but, at the same time, he wanted it back in William's mouth. "Okay, Spike, do it!" he said. William again assumed the position and swabbed Simon's penis with his tongue. He then scooted off the bed and pushed Simon's legs apart so he could attack from a better angle. He closed his mouth over Simon's rock hard appendage and proceeded to flick his tongue rapidly on its underside. Many times he had heard his father's instructions to his mother to 'use you tongue, bitch.' Simon was there in short order and warned William to back off. He again took it in his hand and with just a few stroked he shot volley after volley of hot semen. The first shot went over his head. The second hit him in the face and William was amazed as he observed the pearly white ejaculate oozing from Simon's eyebrow, down his nose and into his mouth. The rest coated Simon's chest and tummy. Simon was spent. He threw his arms to the side and tried to stop the room from spinning. His heart was racing and his breathing was that of a sprinter at the end of a race. William climbed back to sit in the middle of the bed by his side and he ran a finger through the mysterious fluid on Simon's chest. He rubbed it between his fingers as he brought it to his nose for a sniff. "It smells like green beans," he said. "Don't taste like green beans," a sated Simon said. He wiped the semen from his lips and chin with one hand as he reached for his shirt to clean his eye with the other. He had swallowed that portion which entered his mouth and was not repulsed by the taste. He guessed he had produced gallons of the stuff before today, but never thought of tasting it. He thought it had to be nasty stuff, even though he had read accounts of men and women that found it delightful. He assumed that that had to be a fiction and was careful to clean every drop with tissue and dutifully flushed it down the toilet in the past. Now, he thought that it did smell somewhat like green beans, as William had said, and the taste was not all that bad. Maybe he would try it again. William touched his semen coated finger to his tongue and made a face of disgust and said, "Yuck! You're right, it don't taste like green beans." As Simon wiped his chest with his shirt, he asked William to bring him a wet washcloth from the bathroom. He then wiped he face, chest and tummy before running it over his crotch and penis. He also wiped the pool of semen from his bed that had shot over his head. He told William that he had never shot so far before, nor had he shot so much. "It must have been that wonderful tongue of yours that caused all this," he said. William was proud of his ability to please his new friend. He had never attempted to put Stephen's penis in his mouth, although he had thought of trying it. After all, Momma did it. Now he was pleased with himself and thought that he might be as good as his Momma in that department. He again asked Simon to 'do him' again. "Let me see what time it is, Spike," he said as he looked at the bedside clock. "We've got at least two hours before our moms come back. Get back between my legs and let's do it." "Will you suck mine like I did you?" William asked shyly. "Why not!" Simon replied. Then he told William to lay himself on the bed with his feet off the edge. He then rubbed the now flaccid flesh dangling between William's legs and was rewarded with the magical transformation of a limp noodle into a firm shaft of pleasure. He again examined William's diminutive penis and had to reiterate his earlier observation. "That is so damned cute," he said as he ran a finger up and down its underside. "Thank you, Simon. I think yours is cute too," said William. "Stephen told me that mine was different; said that I was a freak of nature and laughed at it. But, that didn't stop him from playing with it. I'm glad you think it's cute." Simon licked the boy's scrotum and his thighs on either side. He did not have to raise it to lick the area beneath as it was drawn so close to his body like a shriveled prune and not much bigger. He then engulfed the shaft and ran his tongue over every bit of it. He opened his mouth wider and took the lad's scrotum into his mouth and still had room to spare. His tongue flicked over the scrotum and was pleased to hear sounds indicating that his method was pleasing William. He thought it somewhat like sucking his thumb, but in this case, it was more like sucking his pinkie finger. His mouth was filled with saliva and he sloshed it all around his new toy as his tongue went up and down its underside. He varied the speed of his tongue to make the act last longer. He was enjoying the giving a much as William was the receiving. William grasped the bedspread with his fists and shuttered as he tightened his ass cheeks and pushed his crotch against Simon's face. Guttural sounds, much like one would expect from one on his death bed, were coming from William in his spasm of ecstasy. Simon threw himself on top of William and looked him in the eye and told him that that was fun, then he added, "We had better get dressed. I'm not sure when they will be back, but it would be better to be watching television or playing computer games when they do. Both dressed in silence and as Simon was lacing a shoe he said, "Listen, Spike, you have to keep what happened just now between us just that, between us. You can't tell anyone, and I mean ANYONE! Do you understand?" "Sure, it's our secret game," said William. "But you told ME about Stephen. Were the games you played with him not also secret games?" quizzed Simon. William gingerly chewed his lower lip as he bowed his head and realized the truth in what Simon had said. He should not have told a secret. After a moment of silence, he softly said, "You're right. I told a secret. I promise I'll keep our secret games a secret. A secret for ever and ever. I'll never tell anyone, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die," he added to clinch the deal. "Okay, Spike, it's our secret. I trust you. And, you can be sure that I'll never tell. Let's go make a sandwich and see what's on television," he said as they left the room. Simon took his shirt to the bathroom and rinsed it out in the sink and tossed into the laundry basket. If his mother noticed that he had changed shirts, he would say that he had spilled something on it. She didn't need to know what. Maggie and Sarah arrived as the boys were finishing their sandwiches and informed them that Sarah had found an apartment only six miles away and they had arranged for Sarah's sister in Tampa to hire a mover and bring Sarah's and William's possessions as well as most of the furniture to their new home. This was to be done when Sarah's husband was away on a planned business trip and would be a surprise when he returned. It would be a week from tomorrow and in that time Sarah and William were going to stay with them because their new place would not be ready until then. Maggie told Simon that Sarah would sleep on the sofa and William could sleep on a cot in his room. Simon said, "Gosh, Mom, the kid's such a runt. I think my bed is big enough for both of us." "Well, it's a plan," said Maggie. Sarah said, "William, you are going to like our apartment complex." William interrupted his mother saying, "Who's William?" "Who's William? What do you mean?" she asked. The boy smiled and said, "Were you talking to me? My name is Spike. We left William in Tampa. I'm Spike in Atlanta." "Okay, Spike, have it your way. You are going to like our new home. There are lots of kids and a playground next to the pool and your school will be two blocks away. On second thought, Spikey, I carried you in my belly for nine-months and almost died when you were born. I named you William and, after all I endured in bringing you into this world, you will remain William, so, there! young man," said an emphatic Sarah. Maggie & Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon talking of their old friends and generally catching up on what had happened since they graduated high school together. After a while, Simon said, "I'll show Spike. . .uh, I mean, I'll show William my room and make a space for his stuff. Come on, William." And the two boys left their mothers. As they started up the stairs, hand in hand, Maggie yelled, "Don't be long. Your father will be here any time now. He's going to take us to visit Granny and then to dinner at the Hyatt." Then, to Sarah, she said, "I forgot to tell you that we had plans for the evening. Of course you and William will come with us." "Gosh, Maggie, I slept two hours this morning after being up all day and night. I think I need to get some sleep before I fall over. Plus, I need to talk to William about how thing are. Y'all go ahead. We'll be fine," said Sarah. Just then, Simon's father came home and was informed of the situation. He was very cordial and made no objections to his household being invaded. He did, however, tell Maggie that he had something that he needed to do for a friend first. He asked Simon to come with him to help and they left the others and drove away. Simon asked his father where they were going and what needed to be done. His father drove several blocks and pulled over to the curb. Simon reached to open his door and his father stopped him and told him that he only wanted to get some alone-time with him to have a chat. "I don't understand. What's the matter?" asked Simon. "Son, do you remember when the lock on your bedroom door broke and I had to replace it?" he asked. "Sure, but . . ." Simon said before being interrupted by his father. "Son, I'm the one that broke the lock. I wanted a reason to replace it with one that was more secure without having to explain why," he said. "Why, Dad?" asked a bewildered Simon. "I got the urge to go fishing one morning and thought that you might like to go with me. So, I opened your door, which you had not locked, and you were sound asleep gripping your hard dick. You had a pile of tissue next to you and a silly grin on you face," he informed Simon. Simon was shocked that his father had seen him in such a state. His father continued, "I tripped the lock and closed your door." "Did you tell Mom?" Simon asked and held his breath for the answer. "No, that's nothing she needs to know. But, she likely assumes you do it. All boys and men do it and I think everyone, male or female, knows that. Even gals will manually get-off to ease the stress from time to time. Anyhow, remember how I told you that you should lock your door when you needed to be alone? I did not want to tell you the reason but, it was to make sure that your mother did not walk in on you like I did. "Now, let's get to the point of why I wanted to tell you all this now. You will have a guest - a very young guest - sleeping in your bed. I don't want you to do anything that might shock him. If you need to jack-off, and I'm sure you will, do it in the bathroom or go out in the woods to do it. Just don't do it in your bedroom while William is with you. Do you understand?" his father asked. "You said that all boys and men do it. Then he must do it too. Don't you think?" asked Simon. "When did you start doing it?" asked his father. "Let's see, I was eleven-and-a-half," said Simon. "I think that's closer to the time most boys start. You weren't seven and that's the point. Seven-year-olds are too young for such stuff. Just remember what I have said. There is a time and place for everything. Don't rob that kid of his innocence by letting him see you jacking your dick. A very nice dick at that, son; your hard-on is bigger than I would have thought. You're going to make the girls very happy when that time comes. Now, again, do you understand what I have said?" he asked. "Sure, Dad, I don't want to rob young William of his innocence. I'll be careful," said a bemused Simon, laughing inwardly at the idea of young William being innocent of anything. "Okay, we have that out of the way. Let's go pick-up your mother," said his father as he started the car. Then he added, "And, I want you to sleep in your pajamas while William is here. Dress in the bathroom. Don't even let him see you in the nude. That dick of yours might give him nightmares." He reached over and playfully shook Simon by the scruff of his neck. Later, after their evening out, they returned to find both of their guests sleeping - dead to the world. Sarah was on the sofa and William was on the floor beside her where he had fallen asleep watching television. They decided to let them sleep as they were. Simon was disappointed but did not show it. All evening he had anticipated having his penis washed in that 'innocent' young mouth of William's before going to sleep. "Oh, well," he thought, "there's always tomorrow." The family went up to their rooms and Simon dashed into the bathroom, stripped off his clothing and stepped into the shower. His erection was begging for attention. He started the shower, grabbed the soap, worked-up a lather and started stroking his manhood. He closed his eyes and imagined that William was sucking him. He moaned as he relived the moments that William's tongue had been swirling around the glans of his penis. Only twelve hours before he would have imagined screwing a sexy tart draped in Victoria's Secret garb as he pleasured himself; now, it was having a blow-job by a kid half his age - and, a boy at that. How quickly things can change in our lives. As he continued to stroke his penis he thought of how often he had tried to get up the gumption to approach this girl or that and maybe, just maybe, she would find him charming; which he knew he wasn't. He did know that charming a girl was the first step in having a girlfriend and having a girlfriend was what he had wanted most of all. At that moment waves of pleasure pumped through every fiber of his body. He wanted this to never end but, was only too aware that the best was yet to come. He increased the speed of his hand and it did not take long for his juices to roil from his loins and he shot several steams of ejaculate onto the shower wall. His mouth was agape and he was panting in the afterglow as he milked the last drops of semen from his now deflating member. His eyes opened and he focused on his semen on the wall. He used his hand to divert the shower's water to the wall and watched his hot cream being diluted and sent on its long journey to the sea. He turned off the hot water and let the cold water rinse the soap from his groin. He loved to finish his showers with cold water. It was invigorating and caused his scrotum to pull his spent balls closer to his body. He liked a nice tight package and thought dangling balls were always in the way. When he stepped from the shower he noticed that his pajamas were on the vanity. He instantly knew that his father must have observed at least a part of his actions when he placed them there. After their earlier talk, this did not disturb him as it would have before. Ever since he invented the act of masturbation (and, at first, he did think it was his invention and something unique to him,) he knew that he had to keep it to himself. He had attended a closely supervised Christian school and next to nothing was shared between the boys of their budding carnal instincts. His parents had limited his access to the Internet and television with blockers. It had only been a little over a year ago when he transferred to public school that he discovered the facts of life and it both titillated and scared him. Simon dressed in his pajamas and scurried across the hall to his bedroom. He tossed the covers back, climbed into bed, and, because of his recent exertions, he was asleep almost when his head touched the pillow. His day replayed in his dreams and he again felt William's tongue on his penis. He moaned and tried to turn on his side but he could not move. He soon realized that his bladder was asking him to wake-up before he wet his bed. He opened his eyes and was half asleep when he realized that his dream had been a reality and that William was sitting astride his legs and sucking him. "Stop! I have to go pee," he whispered to his companion. Simon glanced at the clock in the bathroom as he relieved his bloated bladder and saw that it was nearly four o'clock. He washed and dried his penis and, as quietly as possible, he returned to his room, closed the door and locked it; something that he had not done earlier. He turned on the bedside lamp and looked at the smiling child that was still where he was when he left the room. "What are you doing here?" he whispered. "I fell asleep on the floor watching television. Momma got up and tripped over me. That woke me up and she told me to come up hear to go to bed," William whispered back. "Okay, you sleep on that side and I'll sleep here." he whispered. Then he asked William whether or not he needed to use the bathroom. William told him that he was fine. Simon told him that, if he did need to in the night, he should be very quiet and to lock the door when he returned. William asked him to suck him again, but Simon told him that he needed to get some sleep and that there was always tomorrow. William shucked his shorts and shirt. He wanted to remove his jockey shorts but he thought he had best leave them on. He pulled back his covers and nestled down to obey his host. "Will you kiss me good-night," William whispered. Simon leaned over and kissed William on the cheek and told him to sleep well. It was not the kiss that William wanted but, he realized that it was all he was going to get. It was almost nine when Simon opened his eyes again. He had forgotten that he had a roommate. The events of the previous day and night came back to him as he raised his head and observed William, still in just his jockey shorts, seated at his computer playing a game. Simon was aware of voices coming from downstairs and, with the wafting aroma of cooking bacon, realized that his mother was cooking breakfast and talking to Sarah. He informed William that the bathroom was free and told him that he should take a quick shower. William selected some fresh clothing and followed Simon to the bathroom. William quickly lost his jockey shorts and pulled at his noodle in anticipation of some game play but Simon only handed him a washcloth and a towel and told him to come down for breakfast as soon as he could. Thus went the first day for young William in Atlanta. The following week William monopolized Simon's time and seemed to be always at his side. They played their sex games at every opportunity. Simon thought that he must have produced more semen in that week than the had is three months. William had turned Simon into a sperm factory. He was envious of Simon and could not wait to make his own. On the fourth day of that week, Simon was lost in the rapture of the moment as William was tonguing his penis and failed to warn him of his impending orgasm. He shot a volley into William's mouth and stunned his little cocksucker. William rapidly pulled away and spit the frothy load from his mouth onto Simon's chest. At the same time, another blast came from Simon's penis that hit the lad on his cheek. William ran to the bathroom and rinsed his mouth out and wiped the offending juice from his face. He returned and frowned as he stood cross-armed looking at Simon. "Sorry about that, Spike. I had no idea that it was about to happen. I'm sorry," Simon repeated, then added, "It won't kill you - look." He then scooped some from the pool on his chest onto his finger and placed it into his mouth. "Even with your spit mixed with it, it's not that bad." William had already tasted it and made his little scene of objection. But, he thought that maybe he had overreacted because he had not been expecting it. He stepped forward and took his finger and did as Simon had done. The important thing at this point is that it was William's option. He did this because he trusted Simon. All cocksuckers are trusting souls. They have to be. Trust has to be second nature when you place someone's 'holy of holies' wholly into your mouth. Thus, cocksucking should be reserved for trusted friends and not strangers; that applies to the sucker as well as to the suckee. Alas, however, lust trumps trust. From that point, William accepted Simon's load as part of the process and had to admit that it was not all bad. Later, he told Simon that the real reason he swallowed it was to save time in cleaning-up afterwards. A logical reason was a necessity. That night when Simon went to bed, William was waiting and, even though he was half asleep, he asked Simon to let him sit astride his chest with his penis at Simon's mouth. Simon adjusted his pillow to hold his head up and proceeded to suckle the tiny morsel before him. William pumped his hips back and forth as Simon braced his back with his hands. William moaned and Simon stopped and shushed William and admonished him in a whisper that they should not make a sound lest his parents heard. William covered his mouth and guided his spike back to Simon's mouth. He leaned forward and continued pumping his hips slightly as Simon caressed and massages William's bare ass. The actions of each was not practiced but, rather, innate and seemed for all the world to be what one should do at a moment like that. When William reached his dry orgasm he shuddered and wanted to shout for joy but he remembered to be silent. He rolled over to his place as he whispered a good-night to Simon. He then leaned over and kissed Simon on his cheek. Simon did not want to press the issue but, while he had enjoyed giving William his best efforts, he was as hard as a rock and needed his share of the fun. He did not blame William for not offering to suck him in return for he had been sucked five times that day. He waited a few minutes and went to the bathroom to jack one more load for the day. He was so charged from sucking William that it was very quick in coming. He returned to his room, locked his door, plopped himself down and slept the sleep of the dead. When Sarah and William moved into their new apartment, Simon was elated to have his room back to himself. He slept-in the next day and slept through breakfast and lunch. He only left his room for the evening meal. The previous week's secret games had sapped him and he needed to recover his strength. He needed solitude. He needed quiet. He needed to avoid masturbating. He kneading his scrotum and playing with his balls with one hand, and his other hand pulled it away and smacked it into submission. He curled into the fetal position and went back to sleep. The next day he reflected on what had happened with William. He thought that Stephen was right, William's penis was a freak of nature. It was not all that cute, just odd. The rest of the lad, however, was cuteness personified - from his flaxen hair, his deep blue eyes, his flawless complexion which was bronzed from the sun over Tampa Bay to the toes on his feet. (As if toes would be elsewhere but, with that freakish penis, who would be surprised to find a misplaced toe?) During the next two years, almost every Saturday was a day that Sarah and William would come to visit. Sarah's divorce was finalized and she was dating a doctor, whom she planned to marry in June. On these visits, while Sarah and Maggie continued their endless reminiscing of times past, William and Simon would go to Simon's room to play computer games. Simon had recorded the sounds of his favorite game and, while they played their secret games, anyone outside the locked door would hear a loop of bings, bangs and booms and the mindless background music which masked their lustful grunts and groans. When Sarah married the doctor they moved to his home on the other side of town. In Atlanta, if you are on the other side of town, you may as well be in another state. Thus, the Saturday visits were fewer and fewer. Their husbands saw more of each other than Sarah and Maggie saw of each other. They had a day or golf or fishing every week and sometimes took the boys with them. However, little opportunity was given for secret games. It seemed that whenever they tried to find a secluded spot, their fathers would call them back. Every couple of weeks, the families would go to a fine restaurant and dine. Again, the boys never found a time or place to do anything on these occasions. They did make the most of those few times they found to be alone and they had long phone conversations during which each would masturbate as they told each other what they were doing and how it felt. Simon asked William to get a camera for his computer and they could watch each other. William squashed that idea when he told Simon that he was not allowed to have a computer in his room. It was in the family room for all to see and he was never home alone. At the same time, much to the pleasure of his parents, Simon started dating girls. There was not one special girl in his life - he just dated a few from time to time. As with himself, the girls he dated were not the most popular or most good looking specimens of humanity. They were, however, smart girls. He did not want to waste his time with the mindless or the silly ones. He had a good mind and looked for the same in anyone with whom he was to associate - unless they happen to had flaxen hair and a freakishly odd penis. There was nothing romantic about his early associations with the distaff side. He knew that his parents assumed him to be 'normal' and did not not want them to know of his secret desire for secret games. Simon's sixteenth birthday was on the horizon and his father told him that he could get his driver's license. He spent hours telling him how he trusted him and knew that he would be a careful driver and what he should avoid and how he was moving into manhood and on and on and on. He told Simon that, if he proved to him that his trust in him was well founded, he would buy him a used car as soon as he could. Simon knew that his father's company had service vans and that he traded them in every year. He asked him to consider giving him one of the vans instead of a car. A vision of his son mounting a sexy tart draped in Victoria's Secret garb on a mat in the back of the van as she locked her legs around him crossed his father's mind. He shook his head to kill that thought and asked why he wanted a van. Simon made a case for wanting to be able to carry stuff when he needed to do so and, most of all, he wanted to be able to use it like a camper when he went fishing. His case was made and the day Simon passed his drivers test his father gave him the keys to Fleet No. 443. It was the van with the fewest miles and had never had a mechanical problem. They took it to a body shop and had the logos removed and the white paint renewed to showroom specs. Simon purchased some magnetized drapery which he could snap in place to give privacy to the rear of the van at his will. He was planning on renewing his secret games with William and everything seemed to be going his way. William was delighted when Simon told him that they would be able to meet and have the privacy of his van in which to play their secret games. They arranged for William to ride his bike to a park near his home and Simon would meet him there. An eager William arrived at the park early and was riding his bike around the large parking lot when Simon arrived. Simon parked at the far end of the almost empty lot in the shade of several large oaks. Simon sped to the van, leaned his bike against one of the trees and almost pulled the door from its hinges as he jumped into the van. Both boys just sat and looked at each other for a moment before Simon asked, "Well, Spike, how do you like it?" "Gosh, Simon, this is great. Look at all the room back there," he replied. Behind the two seats of the van was a grated partition with an access door which Simon opened. They scooted into the back of the van and Simon affixed his drapery to the grate as well as over the rear windows. The rear compartment was otherwise windowless. He then opened his laptop computer and plugged in what he thought was the best feature of his game room. It was a security camera system which he had devised by mounting webcams on each of the sides of a small block of wood. He opened one of the rear doors and placed the block on top of the van. He then activated the system and they watched as four views of the outside world were shown on the screen. "This is great," William repeated. "I've an order in for motion detectors which will sound off when someone is coming too near. Until then, I have it where the computer beeps every three minutes to remind us to look at the screen," said a proud Simon. William started to remove his shirt but was stopped when Simon said, "Keep your short on, Spike." This was not meant in the proverbial sense as in telling someone to wait. It was meant as a fact. Simon told William that they should to be dressed as much as possible in case they needed to make a quick retreat. All this was new ground for both and everything had to be planned to keep from being caught in a compromising situation. Simon rolled out the two sleeping bags and told William to pull his pants down but just to his knees. He did the same and they sat next to each other on the sleeping bags. Both had a rigid penis ready for action. They fondled each other as they observed on one section of the laptop screen a skateboarder heading for that section of the park reserved for boarders. That seemed to be the only thing happening. William told Simon that he had a surprise for him and asked him to suck his penis and that when he told him to stop he should finish him off with his fingers to see the surprise. "You mean what I think you mean?" Simon asked. "I don't know what you think I mean but, you will be surprised," a grinning William said. William reclined and pulled at his scrotum to free it from his crotch. This was something that he only recently had to do from time to time since his testicles had become larger and so had the sac which contained them. His penis was also longer by an inch when erect. The extra length only made the head seem smaller and all the more freakish. But, even so, Simon reiterated his first assessment and told William how cute his penis was. Simon reached and fondled William's tiny balls and ran his finger tips down the inside of the boy's thighs which sent shivers up Williams spine and caused his boy hormones to surge through his system. William asked Simon to continue stroking his thigh because it felt so good. As Simon leaned in to administer his oral skills upon the boy's stiff shaft his thumb stroked the underside of it and caused it to jump in reflex. He enjoyed seeing the effect of his touch upon the silky flesh. A beep was sounded by the computer and both boys turned to view the outside world. On one quadrant of the screen they could see an elderly couple walking their dog on a path the circled the park. They would not be coming their way. On another quadrant they saw a mockingbird sitting on the top of the van but nothing seemed to be beyond which could be a threat. The other quadrants showed no activity other than the trees swaying in the breeze. Simon did not stop playing with William's stiffie and, after viewing the screen, he engulfed it into his hungry mouth. He bobbed his head and rotated it from side to side as his tongue worked its magic. He had become a virtuoso on the skin flute. He would vary his technique as much as one could for something so simple but the coda was always the same - orgasmic bliss. He would stop from time to time to catch his breath, look at the screen, and ask William how he was doing as he continued by masturbating him. From practice he knew that an occasional manual stimulation was needed in almost any blow job when time was a factor. When William gave the word that he was near, Simon raised to an elbow, jacked the moist skin rapidly and viewed two tiny squirts of clear fluid come form William's penis as he writhed in sublime pleasure. He congratulated William and told him that that was a very big surprise because he was so young and had not a hair on his groin. He leaned in and licked the few drops of watery ejaculate from William's tummy. He rolled his tongue around his lips, made a smacking sound, and pronounced it to be delicious, even though it had no discernible taste. He said, "Spike, I guess I should change your name to Squirt now." "No way man! I like Spike. Momma still won't let me call myself Spike. It is only you that calls me that and I kind of like it that way. It's special and I think of it as part of our secret games," said William. Simon situated himself where his shoulders were against the wheelwell; which allowed him to watch the screen and view his young cocksucker by only casting his eyes from one to the other. William scooted in between his legs and clasped both hands on Simon's penis. His fingers were long enough now to reach around its girth, which pleased Simon because it allowed him to be more passive and not have to assist by jacking himself when the feeling would fade by whatever fraction. William rubbed the glans of Simon's penis with his thumb and removed a pubic hair which was ensnared in the fold of skin which was the last vestige of Simon's foreskin. As he lowered his head Simon placed one hand upon it and stroked his hair as one would idly stroke a cat in one's lap. He did not try to push William's head down; it was only a nonverbal way to tell William that he was pleased with what he was doing. When it was extra great, he would, with the back of his hand, run his fingers down to William's neck and trail his nails ever so gently from shoulder to shoulder. This had almost the same effect on William as when Simon did that to his sensitive inner thigh. If he was flaccid, this would cause him to bone-up and take it in one hand and masturbate himself; being careful not to divert his attention from his oral obligation to Simon. By the time Simon erupted into William's mouth, both boys were drenched in sweat. It was not a hot day but, even in the shade of the oaks, the interior of the van was warm. That warmth added to their body heat from their physical exertions, however slight, caused them to be uncomfortable. Simon told William that in the future they should wear clothing that was easy to take off and put back on; anything without a belt, buttons or zipper would be fine. They also concurred on the necessity to leave the van motor running so that the air conditioner could be used. They rolled their sleeping bags and, on seeing that the coast was clear, retrieved the camera block and removed the drapes. Once back in the front they agreed that this place was where they should meet and, if the park was too active, they could drive to a more secluded location. They knew that however much they wanted to meet every day that they would wait as long as they could and call one of the other to arrange a time. This continued for about a year and would have continued longer had William not queered the queer deal by calling Simon one day to tell him that he wanted to meet Simon after school at the park only on every Thursday. He was evasive when asked the reason for why only Thursday. The next thing William said knocked the blocks from under Simon. William told Simon that he wanted to be given twenty dollars each time they met. "TWENTY DOLLARS!" said a stunned Simon. "That's a special deal for you, Simon. I charge everyone else fifty," William enlightened Simon. "EVERYONE ELSE! What has happened to you? Are you CRAZY?" shouted Simon. Then he ended the conversation by saying, "I'll be there on Thursday, if you want to play. But, I will not charge you anything, nor will I pay you anything." That said, Simon snapped his phone shut and tried to imagine what had happen to William. He worried about William and wondered how many others and who they were that paid him fifty dollars for sex. He had assumed that, since William was his only sexual outlet, he was William's one and only. He thought that he should have told William that he loved him, which deep down he did not. But, he loved what they did together. He hardly slept that night and moped around feeling dejected all the next few days. When Thursday came, he was on pins and needles as he drove to the park and tried to work out what he would say to William, if and when he came. He waited in the van listening to the radio as he prayed silently that he could fix things with William and talk some sense into his head. He waited until the sun was on the horizon before he gave up hope. He wiped the tears form his eyes and steeled himself as he started the van and drove home. Had he been of age, he would have gone to a bar and drowned his sorrows with whiskey. At least now he knew firsthand one impetus among the many that could cause one to drink himself into a stupor. He never called William after that and William never called him. He always had other plans when the families went to dinner or the fathers had an outing. He avoided William like the plague. He concentrated on his school work and planned on going to a university as far from Atlanta and William as he could. To that end, he resolved that he would have to satisfy himself sexually and would not get involved with another William, or Jack, or Jane, for that matter. It was six months later that William disappeared. It was assumed that he had been kidnapped and killed. In reality, one of his customers wanted him to live with him in California and he went with him. That flaxen-haired teenager sitting in the mall in Paso Robles, gazing at your crotch as you walk by, may be, just may be, William. Or, he could be the one that swallows in Capistrano. You will know for sure, if his penis is freakish. ---------------------------- ---------------------------- Simon, I hope I did not take too many liberties with your story. And, don't ask again!! I'm back to work on projects for filthy lucre and not filthy minds.