Date: Mon, 6 Apr 2015 16:08:34 -0700
From: Zack McNaught <zackmcnaught@hotmail.com>
Subject: Stall Stories - 13th Anniversary Edition

The bit at the top: this is fiction. Please donate to keep Nifty going.
Please write to me if you like the story: zackmcnaught@hotmail.com.

Now, on with the show!


AUTHOR'S NOTE 1: Here's to one of the most celebrated anniversaries of all
- becoming a teenager. I could have done a 10th or 15th anniversary edition
of my first series, Stall Stories, but what better way to pay tribute to
the boys in my works than by celebrating its 13th birthday, that magical
time when boys start sprouting hair and shooting cum. What you'll find
below is a substantially re-written `Stall Stories', but with the original
characters, plot and (most of the) same sex acts. I hope you enjoy
(re)reading it as much as I enjoyed (re)writing it.

Love,
Zack

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: Just so you don't get horribly confused, the story takes
place in an English independent school, where uniform is compulsory, and
consists of a black jacket and trousers, worn with a white shirt and the
school tie. The narrator is 16, and is most definitely not me... ;) Also,
English 'secondary' school pupils range from 11 year old 'first years' to
18 year old 'sixth formers', for anyone not familiar with the system. Also,
it's set back in the early to mid nineties, before widespread internet and
mobile phone usage, particularly among kids. I swear, it's so much easier
for gay boys to have a relationship these days!

Chapter 1

My heart was pounding as we entered the stall. It was a little cramped, but
easily big enough for what we wanted to do; the young boy I was with had to
squeeze himself into the corner, and I had to press myself against him in
order to close the door. Had I really thought about it, I would have
realised the irony of not wanting to crowd him, given what we were there to
do.

There was a hook on the back of the door, and we both hung our black
uniform blazers there, his looking shockingly small against mine. It didn't
put me off, though - in fact, quite the opposite. I manoeuvred him around
so that I could sit on the toilet seat, with him standing in front of me,
looking down at me expectantly.

He was a gorgeous, and rather skinny-looking first year, with short, spiky
blonde hair and the sort of nut-brown tan which only comes from frequent
holidays in the sun. His name was James, and he was, according to my friend
Paul who had put us together, quite a horny little lad who liked playing
with bigger boys. Since I was a bigger boy - at sixteen - who liked playing
with younger ones, it was a perfect fit.

He watched me, his eyes showing a hint of the nerves he must have been
feeling inside, as I reached out a hand and nudged aside the flap of fabric
over his fly. I found the little tag and slowly started to unzip him,
feeling the warmth and hardness of his juvenile spike pressing against the
back of my hand as I worked the zip past the lump beneath. Oh yes, he was
ready for this. Definitely ready.

The straining head of his penis poked the white fabric of his briefs out
through the hole in his fly. I unsnapped the clasp holding his trousers up,
and they fell down to his ankles to pool on top of his shoes. He held his
shirt and tie up out of the way with one hand while he looked down at me in
silence.

His boyhood formed a thin, hard ridge in his pants, and I took a moment
just to enjoy the sensation of running my fingertips along its shrouded
length. He gave out a barely audible gasp at the contact, and pushed his
hips slightly forward. I placed a finger and thumb each side of the shaft
and slowly worked them up and down, feeling his foreskin slipping up and
down over the flared ridge at the base of his steel-hard helmet.

It was too hard to resist seeing it without his pants in the way, so I
reached up and pulled them off his hips. We both gave a short laugh when it
caught in the waistband of his pants, and then slapped up against his
tummy, the sound like gunfire in the confines of the stall. I pushed his
pants down past his knees and let them fall on top of his trousers, then
took in the wondrous sight of his naked crotch.

His dick was a shade shorter than three inches long, and pointed toward the
ceiling, with a long foreskin puckered over the head. Like the rest of a
speedo-shaped patch in his middle, it was a pale contrast to the tanned
skin of his torso and limbs. The finger-thin little rod of flesh seemed to
be vibrating as it jumped in time with his pulse. At its base, the crinkled
skin of his little scrotum was taut, his balls pulled up tight within. I
reached forward and gently pulled at the skin, stretching it out and making
his shaft bob down a little, as if it was bowing to me.

With two fingers and a thumb I set to work gently waking him, running his
loose foreskin up and down over the head, watching with delight as it poked
out to greet me on each stroke. His knees bent and he leaned forward over
me, placing a hand on my shoulder as the sensations became a little too
much to bear.

He was a bit young to be making precum, so with his foreskin pulled back I
leaned forward to lubricate it with my mouth. As I flicked my tongue over
the head, he pushed insistently forward with his hips, until my mouth
closed around his shaft. The hand which had been on my shoulder went to my
head, and he held me in place as I greedily suckled on his stiff little
protuberance like a baby on a nipple. With my nose in his crotch I smelled
for the first time something which I've since seen dozens of others commit
to type - the biscuity odour of young boys' privates. It was sweet and
musty, and can only be described that way, for nothing else matches
it. Overlying that was the flavour of him on my tongue, itself unique - the
salty flavour of his skin and the slight tang of something else
unidentified.

By the time he gave a muffled cry, and his dick bucked uselessly in my
mouth, he was holding the back of my head with both hands and thrusting
insistently with his hips. He fell on top of me, burying his face in the
crooked my neck and panting in my ear, arms wrapped around my head.

"Thank you," he breathed at last.

He stood back up and smiled at me, as I rapidly undid my trousers and
pushed both them and my pants down around my ankles, exposing my rather
damp boyhood to the air. His eyes went wide and he grinned down at me, and
from the way his tongue wetted his lips, I knew he was willing to repay the
favour. In fact, he was about to kneel in front of me and do just that when
the thunderous clatter of the toilet door being slammed against the wall
interrupted us.

It was followed by the high pitch chatter of two young lads going to the
urinals. I could hear them unzipping, and the splash of their streams
hitting porcelain. Nervous of discovery, I turned James around and sat him
down on my lap, my stiff five inches smearing clear lubricant all over his
lower back as I pulled him to me. I made him lift his feet up to rest on my
knees, and wrapped my arms around him to keep him safe.

"What do you think their dicks look like?" I whispered in James' ear as the
boys went about their business. "Reckon they have hair yet? Reckon they get
them hard and play with each other after school, or come in the stalls at
lunchtime and suck each other off?"

James shivered in my arms, excited by the thought of the boys playing sexy
games together. I reached my left hand down and found his willy still
sticking proudly up, and with my right hand I traced fingertips down from
his wrinkled sack, across his perineum and to the pucker of his anus. I ran
my fingers around the ridged skin there, and to my surprise felt it bloom
open. He was too dry to dare push a finger in, but I was prepared for
that. Reaching down, I found the little tube of lube in my trouser pocket,
and once I'd managed to coat my finger, I went back to my task.

By this time the other boys had left, so I made him stand up and lean
forward with his hands against the back of the door. Still sitting on the
toilet, I had the perfect position to gently probe around his hole, and
then slowly push a finger inside. He moved away from the sensation at
first, making a little moaning sound in the back of his throat, but then
something flipped inside, and he was pushing his arse back onto my
finger. At that age I didn't know what a prostate was, but I certainly knew
where to find it, and how much James would love it when I did, so I curled
my finger downward and was rewarded with a whimper as I hit the spot.

"James, does Paul ever do you in the bum?" I whispered to him, as I
massaged the tense little knot inside his rectum.

He nodded.

"Can I do it?"

Another nod, more enthusiastic than the first. My heart pounded at the
realisation that I was going to fuck a young boy for the first time in my
life. I knew the mechanics from messing around with boys my own age, but
this was going to be the first time my conquest had been a hairless little
preteen; this was something else altogether. I worked the finger around and
about, in and out, until his hole was loose and squelched with each
intrusion. A second finger slipped in next to the first easily enough, and
I soon had him loosened up well enough for my slender young dick.

I decided that I would have him sitting in my lap, facing away from me, so
it was a simple matter of having him sit down on my shaft. He put his hands
on my thighs, and then carefully lowered himself until the tip of my dick
pressed in between his cheeks and nestled against his pucker. I heard him
groan as the blunt object pushed its way into his hole, and then slowly he
began to lower himself.

It was sheer agony for me as his sphincter spread around the head of my
dick and oozed down onto the shaft. I wanted to plunge into him, but
instead had to let him dictate the pace. He lowered himself slowly all the
way down, until my soft brown bush of pubes was squashed up against his
arse. Finally he let himself down all the way and gave an enormous sigh.

We sat that way for a while. I grew bold and kissed the lobe of his ear,
and he sighed again, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back
against my shoulder.

"You're not as big as Paul is," he whispered at last. "And you're nicer. It
doesn't hurt like when Paul does it. It feels nice, actually."

I've never been so pleased to know that I don't compare size-wise. I'd
always known I had a bit of a small dick, though I was sure I had a bit of
growing left in me. But now I was hearing that it was a good thing I wasn't
any bigger, and I was so happy that he was enjoying rather than enduring
our coupling.

I made a gentle thrust, rolling my hips back and then forward, removing an
inch and then returning it to him, over and over again. So worked up was I
by our clandestine meeting, and by all that had happened over the last
fifteen minutes, that in no time at all I was holding his hips, pulling him
down to get as much as I could inside him while I swelled and delivered my
load into the heat of his backside.

As I came down from my head-spinning high, James sighed again, and leant
back against my chest. I looked down to where his soft dick lay across his
hip, and saw the faintest trace of moisture at its tip. He grunted when I
softened and slipped out of him, and leaned over to grab some toilet roll
to plug the gaping hole in his arse, which was already leaking cum.

By the time he was steady enough to stand again, lunchtime was almost
over. He dressed himself quickly, avoiding eye contact, and left without
another word. At the time I was too inexperienced to realise that it was
guilt which had driven him away. Guilt, because he had loved being taken up
the bum.

Chapter 2

I wanted more. I needed more. I wanked off at every opportunity to the
memory of the encounter with James, but nothing compared to the real
thing. Nothing felt quite like the sensation of being buried to the hilt in
his hot, soft backside. It was to be two weeks of increasingly desperately
asking Paul to hook me up with the boy again before I would get the chance
for just that.

It happened outside, under the cover of that most British of lunchtime
schoolboy pursuits - a game of football. Our school had massive playing
fields which were separated from a golf course by a narrow strip of
woodland. Entry to the woods was absolutely forbidden to boys, and there
was a large fence intended to prevent our egress, but that was never going
to be enough to stop boys who wanted it enough, especially when the ball
was kicked into the trees and we had to get it back.

All sorts of legends abounded about the woods. Rumour had it that there was
an entire black market in cigarettes, alcohol and porn thriving there,
though I'd never actually spoken to anyone who'd successfully bought any of
those things in the woods. Still, the rumours persisted, and there was
definitely something going on in there. It turned out that on this
particular Thursday afternoon, I was going to find out what some of the
boys, at least, were getting up to.

I was a regular in the football game, but it was a bit of a surprise to see
Paul there. He wasn't the most sportingly inclined, although he did enjoy
cross country running, in which he had some ability. Still, it wasn't as
though he wasn't allowed to play. He gave me a curt nod, but showed no
other sign that we were anything more than classmates.

Before long, a particularly optimistic shot sent the ball flying into the
woods, and a small search party went off looking for it. I was happy to let
them go, having had nothing at all to do with the mishap, but Paul walked
past me and urgently whispered,

"Come with me!"

I wasn't about to stop him and ask why. Instead, I followed like an
obedient little puppy. Inside the woods it was dim and cool, much more
pleasant than the baking sun beneath which we played our game. I followed
hot on Paul's heels, as we wound our way away from the search team, deeper
into the woods, until we saw a little building.

I down know what the structure was originally; a hut for the groundskeeper
of the golf course, maybe? Whatever its purpose, the woodland had reclaimed
it now, and it was all but overrun with ivy. As we drew closer, Paul raised
a finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet, and then pointed to his ear as
if to say 'listen'.

I did just that, as we stood ten yards from the building, and was rewarded
by the sounds of juvenile lovemaking - the rhythmic slap of flesh upon
flesh, and the whimpering of boys in pleasure so great it verged on pain. I
turned to Paul, who grinned like the Cheshire Cat. He leaned in and
whispered in my ear.

"Go up to the side, there's a window there."

I did as he suggested, having to stand on tiptoe to see through the dirty
pane of glass, but pleased I made the effort when I saw what was going on
inside.

At some point in the past, an enterprising soul - it could have been Paul
for all I know, or a tramp - had dragged an old mattress into the middle of
the hut. It lay among a scattering of old newspapers and beer and coke
cans, and using it today were James and another boy from his year I only
barely recognised. And they sure as hell weren't using it to sleep on.

James was on all fours, with the other lad merrily pounding him
doggy-style. Both still had on most of their uniform, their only concession
to nudity being trousers and pants pulled down to the knees. It was an
incredibly erotic sight, knowing that beneath the cover of the other boy's
shirt, he would be shoving his little spike as deep as he could into James'
arse. And clearly the boy who I had fucked a fortnight before was
absolutely loving it, if his panting and moaning were anything to go by.

It was the other boy who finished first, though, suddenly stopping and
saving his hips forward, shuddering with the effort of burying himself as
deeply into James' arse as he could possibly manage. He shoved a few more
times, as if trying to enter James with his whole body, then collapsed
forward on James' back.

When he had regained his composure, he lifted himself up and stuffed what
looked like a reasonably big-for-his-age dick back into some ridiculous
cartoon boxer shorts, before pulling up his trousers and tucking in his
shirt. He said something to James, who sat on the floor on his backside,
wanking his unsatisfied little spike rapidly, trying to get some relief.

The other boy left the scene and jumped in surprise when he saw me standing
around the corner. There was fear in his eyes, but when he looked past me
to where Paul still stood a little way off, there was a glimmer of
something else. He hurried past me, though I paid no more attention to him;
I was far more interested in getting inside the hut.

James looked up at me is surprise when I walked in through the door. I
don't think he was expecting me, but a grin spread across his face when he
recognised me.

"Want a proper dick up your bum?" I said to him as I pushed the door shut
behind me.

He nodded and grinned, and fell onto his back, lifting up his legs and
presenting me with his gaping hole. I knelt down in front of him and pulled
off his school shoes, then his trousers and pants so they would't get in
the way. He looked so sexy, lying there in his white shirt and school tie,
with grey socks his only other adornment. He looked up at me expectantly as
I shoved my own clothes off, then leaned forward over him.

He took me easily enough; the other boy's dick had obviously been a good
size for his age, because James was easily loose enough for me to shove
myself in, in three simple thrusts, one after the other. I looked down at
him and his eyes were totally unfocussed, his mouth hanging open.

"You really do like this, don't you?" I asked, surprised that he would get
so much out of being fucked.

He blushed and looked away, not wanting to make eye contact, but he nodded
very slightly anyway.

"You're really sexy, you know?" I said as I began to slide in and out. His
blush only deepened, but now at least there was the hint of a smile on his
lips.

I was amazed when he came. I'd heard of it, but in all my messing around
with boys my own age, I'd never known anyone get off just from taking it up
the bum. But James did, and then again before I finally shivered my own way
to my climax. He was exhausted, sweaty and tired out by the time I was
done. I couldn't resist hugging him, because I felt sorry for him. I knew
he wanted what he'd got, but it seemed to take so much out of him. He lay
there without hugging me back, the guilt plain to see on his face. Clearly
he was still having trouble accepting what he did when he was horny.

He left before I did. At least this time he said goodbye, though there were
no plans for a repeat performance. When I left I was surprised to find Paul
and the boy who'd been fucking James around the corner of the hut. The
younger boy was on his knees, dreamily sucking a load out of Paul's
impressively sized dick. When Paul came, I saw another first - the boy
happily drank it down rather than spitting it on the floor, and showed his
empty mouth to Paul for approval.

Well, if I wasn't horny enough already, that got me going again straight
away, and a few seconds later I was leaning against the same wall with the
boy's hot, soft, wet lips running up and down my dick.

Chapter 3

It wasn't enough. I wanted more of him. I managed to get him to follow me
to the toilets a couple of times during lunch to suck him off quickly, but
there was never enough time for a fuck, and I couldn't very well invite him
around to my house after school. Imagine my delight, then, when we both
turned up for the first meeting about the ski trip.

Each year the school organised a trip to the Alps in France to go
skiing. They subsidised the scholarship kids, and the rest of us were well
enough off to pay for it ourselves. It had been on one of these trips three
years before that Paul and I first hooked up, although with him it was
always a matter of convenience more than anything else - I was into boys,
and willing to play with him, and that was all that mattered. He didn't
actually have to like me, or for me to like him, for it to be fun. I wasn't
quite the same way, but I wasn't going to turn down a sickened the
occasional fuck.

Anyway, the trip was a great chance to get to know other boys behind closed
doors, if you liked that sort of thing, so when I saw James grin at me
across the room at the first planning meeting for those boys going on the
trip, my heart leapt into my mouth. We would be gone for a whole week,
during which time we would have whole evenings to while away in the
hotel. It was inconceivable that we wouldn't get together at least once.

It was a painful wait for the trip to happen, punctuated by a few brief
trips to the woods, just long enough for me to fill up his backside with my
cum. But eventually we were on our way, on the coach all the way across
France.

When we got there, Paul revealed that he'd managed to get he and I put in
the same room, which gave us at least one safe place to take our conquests
without interference, even if he and I no longer hooked up. No, he wanted
something a little older, a boy with some hair and some cum, while my
desires remained firmly fixated on one boy alone.

There was a huge bathtub in the ensuite, and I grabbed the first turn,
wanting to sit in the hot water to ease away he cramp from being trapped in
the coach for a day. While I lay there idly fondling my dick and thinking
of James, I heard a knock on our room door, followed by some muffled
talking. I thought I heard James' voice, but couldn't be certain, and
didn't want to move to find out.

Within a couple of minutes, though, I could hear panting, and then the slap
of flesh on flesh, and a high pitched moaning. Shortly after, I heard a low
grunt and a squeak of pain, followed by the exhalation of breath which
often comes with an orgasmic release. All went quiet for a few minutes, and
then there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Come in," I called out, certain that whoever it was, I wouldn't care that
much about them seeing me in the bath.

When the door opened, it was James who stood there. He wobbled slightly,
even though he was standing still, and couldn't quite hold himself upright,
leaning on the frame of the door for support. He was dressed in only a
t-shirt and a pair of white sports socks, and a dribble of semen ran down
the inside of his thigh.

"Are you OK?" I asked, genuinely concerned for the boy.

"I owed him," he replied. "Not doing that again."

He tottered forward and shut the door behind himself.

"What do you mean you owed him?" I asked, finding myself furious that Paul
had hurt the boy.

"Can I get in?" he countered, ignoring my question.

I nodded and made room for him. He shed what little clothing he had left
on, and climbed in, sitting down with his back to me and leaning back
against my chest. He grabbed my arms and wrapped them around himself,
moaning slightly as the hot water caressed his bruised hole.

"He's too big," James said after a few minutes' silence. I had to agree -
mine was a slender five, a thin finger compared to Paul's thick seven. I
imagine it must have hurt him to take even an inch when it was that big
around.

"What did you mean when you said you owed him?" I asked again, but James
just shook his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Shh. Doesn't matter," he said. "Yours now. You'll do it gently."

A few minutes later I realised that the exhausted boy had fallen asleep
right there in the bath. I let him stay until the water was too cool, then
woke him and found the remainder of his clothes abandoned on the floor in
the middle of the room. I helped him get dressed, and took him back to his
room, dropping him into bed. He was asleep before his head had even hit the
pillow. Making sure no-one saw, I leaned down to kiss his forehead.

---

The next day was uneventful, just involving picking up skis and looking
round the town, with a little bit of skiing in the afternoon for the more
experienced among us. But it was the evening I was looking forward to, as
we were left to our own devices, and that inevitably meant seeing James
again. Paul and I were in our room after dinner, lounging around on our
beds, reading and chatting when there was a knock on the door. I opened it
to a wonderful sight - James stood there grinning, a devilish look in his
eyes, and with him was a slightly older boy.

"Hi," James said, wandering in uninvited, and turning to his companion,
beckoning him in, too. "This is Matt, my roommate."

Matt looked a little older than James, probably 13 or so. He was stockily
built, but not fat, and wasn't all that attractive, but he was entirely
Paul's type. I saw him checking the boy out from the first second Matt
walked into the room.

I didn't even know whether or not Matt would be interested in doing what us
boys did, but that didn't stop Paul latching on to him and trying to get
into his pants. James and I sat on my bed and watched on from the other
side of the room as Paul went to work with Matt on the other.

"Hi Matt," he said with a warm smile. "You know, it's good you're here. You
can settle something for us."

Matt looked slightly taken aback. I got the feeling he wasn't used to being
talked to this way by boys three years his senior.

"Um, OK," he said, looking to James for reassurance; he really didn't have
any self confidence.

"Great," Paul said, keeping up the bright-and-cheerful act. "The only thing
is, it's a bit of a grown up thing. You know how us older boys talk about
our dicks and stuff all the time, right?"

Matt was now looking absolutely out of his depth. He had no idea that we
did nothing of the sort, but he couldn't lose face by admitting as such.

"Uh, yeah, of course."

"OK, cool. I just didn't want you to think I was being all gay when I asked
you, that's all."

"Oh, OK. Yeah," Matt said, looking less and less like he understood what
was going on with every passing second.

"Great. It's just that I was telling Tom fat lads have fatter dicks, and he
didn't believe me. You're quite big, do you have a really fat dick?"

Matt was flabbergasted. His mouth dropped open, and he looked as though he
was trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Finally, he
managed to whisper,

"Um, I don't know if it's any bigger than anyone else's."

"I bet it is," Paul said, grinning at the boy. "Go on, show us."

The genius was in the way he said it, as if it was a completely normal
request, like asking someone to pass you the salt at dinner. With most boys
it wouldn't have worked, but Paul had Matt dangling like a puppet on a
string. He'd acted like his friend, not his superior, had inadvertently
complimented the boy on the size of his dick without ever having seen it,
and was now acting as though Matt dropping his pants was nothing much of
interest, just a way to prove a point.

Uncertainly, but without any sign that he was ever really going to refuse,
Matt stood up by the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed them down his
chunky thighs, and then took his boxer shorts by the waist and peeled them
down, too. He stood there not quite sure what to do with his hands, raising
and lowering them, and almost covering himself up. I glanced to my right
and saw James' hand tugging at a protuberance in his pants.

Matt's dick was, just as Paul had suggested, slightly fatter than a normal
boy's, though no longer. It was just a couple of inches long, but sat
plumply on a nicely filled but hair-free sack which was drawn up tightly
beneath. A little dusting of light brown pubic hairs completed Matt's
crotch, and what a lovely sight it was, too.

"See," Paul said, reaching out to tug possessively at Matt's little worm
without bothering to ask permission. I could see Matt flinch, but he didn't
pull away, and after a moment the hint of a smile curled the corner of his
lips as his pride and joy bobbed and inflated. Paul kept gently waking the
boy as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

James couldn't resist joining him, grinning at his roommate as he, too,
denuded his midsection, and went to work tugging at his little hairless
spike. Matt's eyes went wide for a second, but then he grinned back at
James, and as the new boy's excitement grew, his inhibitions diminished.

He might well have been shocked at what happened next, but if he was, I
wasn't facing him to see it. I rolled onto the floor between James' legs
and hoovered his little willy into my mouth, sucking for all i was worth
and bobbing my head up and down. James grabbed a couple of handfuls of my
hair and started pumping his hips up at my face, making a real show of
enjoying it so that Matt felt a little less nervous about what was going
on.

A couple of minutes later I heard Matt groan, and looked round just in time
to see a little fountain of mostly clear cum jet out of his dick and all
over the floor in little droplets. It happened twice more, a little less
jizz flying each time, until he pushed Paul's hand away, squeezing out the
last residues himself and shaking them onto the floor. He looked horrified
at what had happened, and I could see the telltale signs of guilt beginning
to work in his mind.

"Have you ever fucked anyone, Matt?" I asked, trying to defuse his feelings
of anxiety about what had just happened to him.

He was surprised by the question, and just stammered.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," I said, turning to James. "Want to be his
first?"

"Yeah, cool!" James said, and as if to demonstrate his willingness, lifted
his feet up above himself and worked his jeans and pants off, throwing them
onto the floor. He held his legs up there, and as I watched, his well
trained anus twitched and then gaped open.

Paul brought Matt over to us. The newcomer's dick had deflated completely
by now, but as Paul talked him through what was going to happen, it jumped
once or twice, then quickly rose back to full mast. Up close, I could see
how nice it was - it was an inch or so shorter than mine, I reckoned, which
made it about a four, but it was just as fat if not fatter. It had the look
of becoming something impressive in time, and already had the kind of
solidity which meant it couldn't hold itself up.

With Paul giving the instructions, Matt moved between James' legs and bent
his knees slightly to line the head of his dick up with the younger boy's
ready hole. It slid in easily, until Matt's sparse bush was tickling James'
perineum.

The look on Matt's face was priceless.

"Oh my God!" he said, finding his voice at last. "Oh my God, that feels
good!"

"Go on, hump me now," James said, grinning up at him. Matt did just what he
was asked, and with gusto, and as he got used to the action, he began to
give his preteen partner a pleasant, dick-stiffening fuck. James, always
one to take pleasure from being rammed, had clearly found a good fit with
Matt's dick, because each time his roommate managed to his his prostate,
the younger lad's dick jumped back to full hardness.

Matt, his passion diffused by his earlier cum, would have been happy to go
on for ages, but James' sudden pleasure brought the whole thing to a
rousing climax. Already worked up from me fellating him, and now enjoying
waking himself while his little prostrate was taking a battering, James
suddenly gasped and squeezed shut his eyes, and moaned loudly as he
came. The suckling twitches of his backside as his orgasm hit were too much
for Matt, who stopped dead still and let them take him over the top with a
whispered 'oh shit!'.

James' dick hadn't hardened fully, and bounced around on his tummy,
dribbling out a couple of clear droplets of cum. It was the first I'd ever
seen him take, and heedless of how it would look to Matt - who, despite
everything, was still very new to all this - I leaned forward and lapped
them up, eager to sample the new emission. It was as delicately tangy and
salty as I could have hoped, and I suckled his little willy in the hope of
getting some more. When I lifted my head, Matt was staring at me
open-mouthed. I just shrugged and grinned at him.

With his balls completely drained and having cum twice, Matt's desire was
completely diminished, and so no amount of cajoling could persuade him to
stay and watch what happened next. James gave me a curious look of longing,
but he was tired, and decided to go back to their room with Matt, leaving
Paul and I horny and without any boys to relieve our tension. Frustrated,
we retired to my bed and had an exhausting but unsatisfying sixty-nine
before we, too, hit the sack.

---

The following day, James came and sat on our table for breakfast, though
the unspoken rules of our secret liaisons meant that he couldn't risk
treating us too familiarly. I'd love to have sat there and chatted away to
him, but there was no legitimate reason to have known him, and so despite
giving each other a few grins and winks, we weren't able to behave the way
we wanted.

I hardly remember the day's skiing, because my mind was focussed on nothing
more than getting back that evening and waiting for James to come to our
room. Curiously, Paul decided not to wait and see what happened, and
disappeared shortly before he urned up, apparently off to find a
friend. Given how vague he was, he had no doubt arranged some sort of
illicit rendezvous with some horny young lad. I always marvelled at his
ability to find new boys to play with - James was the first one outside my
school year I'd ever done it with, and I saw no way of finding another,
other than asking Paul.

But I digress. The soft knock I was hoping for came only a few minutes
after Paul had left, and I opened the door to a mouth-watering sight - both
James and Matt had come this evening, and neither was making much effort to
hide the lump in his jeans. The rushed past into the room, and I closed the
door behind them.

When I turned around and pushed my jeans and pants to the floor, Matt gave
a gasp and James grinned at me, and gave a little 'yesss!'. He was horny as
hell, and stood in the middle of the room doing his best sexy striptease,
until all he was left wearing were his white socks and a cheeky grin. His
little bone pointed almost vertically up, and as he continued to dance he
slowly wanked himself off.

Matt was once again in shock, though why he was surprised was beyond me,
after everything we'd done the day before. As I watched James gyrate
sexily, I ran my fist up and down my dick, squeezing out a pearl of precum
and lifting it to my lips. I raised an eyebrow to Matt, and indicated with
my expression that I expected him to disrobe, too.

He did so quickly, standing from where he was sitting on the bed and
shoving his jeans down to the floor, before sitting again and covering
himself up demurely. I suppose I could understand his reticence - he was
still unsure, and needed to get horny before he let himself off the leash.

James was at the other end of the scale, of course, and was always ready
for something. He walked over to me and leaned forward, taking the top half
of my dick into his mouth, pulling back and running his lips in a tight
seal up the length of me, sucking off a dribble of precum at the top. Then
he sucked hard and reversed the action, until the head of my dick bumped
into the back of his mouth.

I thought he might suck me all the way off, but he had other ideas.

"Matt wants you to fuck him," he said, as he lifted off, swallowing the
saliva which had flooded his mouth at the taste of my cock.

"No I don't!" Matt protested, going red. He looked frightened, but James
just grinned.

"Yeah, you do. You said you wanted to."

"No I didn't! I just asked you what it was like!"

James giggled, enjoying teasing his roommate.

"I said the only way to find out was to let him do it," James said, with a
wink to me. "And you didn't say anything, so that means you want to do it."

"Oh yeah," I chimed in, trying to sound like the authority on being
fucked. "Absolutely. Don't worry, you'll love it."

Matt still looked uncertain, but James went over and sat next to him. I
don't know what he whispered in Matt's ear, but after a minute a smile
crept onto the older boy's face, and then not long after he was nodding.

"OK," James said, taking charge in a way which was cute and curiously
arousing, "you need to turn over on the bed and put your bum in the air."

Matt did as he was told, and I stiffened even more at the sight of his
exposed hole. It didn't open like a flower, in the way James' did, but
there would be plenty of time to make that happen. His smooth little sack
dangled below, and his flaccid little boy tool hung just beyond, only the
very tip of his foreskin visible below the edge of his scrotum.

I found Paul's lube in his bed, and squeezed some out onto James' finger,
reasoning that his thin little digits would hurt the least. Matt still
jumped and moved his arse away from the intrusion, when it came, but
eventually James was able to push at first one, and then two fingers in. In
reality, as with many chubby boys, it was really quite easy to open him up,
and when I pushed first one and then another of my bigger fingers into him,
he barely made a sound.

Before I took his backside, I curled my fingers down and pressed them into
his prostate. The effect was immediate, and he whimpered with the sudden,
intense sensation. I assaulted the little lump for a minute longer, until I
milked a glistening bead of precum out of the tip of his limp little dick
to fall onto the bedsheets below. James giggled and grinned at the sight,
and leaned in under his friends backside to suckle at Matt's dick like a
calf taking milk from a cow.

When it was obvious that Matt was as loose as he needed to be, and wasn't
going to get any more ready, I made him stand so I could lie down on the
bed on my back, then got him to kneel above my crotch facing away from
me. I lifted my dick up and James guided Matt back onto it, until he was
sitting on the very tip. With gentle pressure downward, Matt slid down
until about half my dick was up his bum. He stopped there, panting with
discomfort, but only a short while later I felt him pressing down again,
and this time I slipped all the way inside.

Grabbing Matt's shoulders, I made him lie down on my front, and gently
began to thrust into him from behind, while I tried to bring his limp
little dick back to life. Seeing what I was trying to do, James knelt on
the bed and sucked Matt's dick into his mouth, and in no time at all had it
standing up, fat and proud, a four inch boy pole to be proud of. James
wasn't done being helpful, though, and manoeuvred himself around into the
sixty-nine position, forcing his dick into Matt's mouth while he continued
to suck.

I just lay there under two horny boys and thrust my hips up into one of
them, feeling the sensations slowly building. Funnily enough, it was James
who came first, crying out and thrusting his hips into poor Matt's face. I
saw him climbing off, his dick already deflating, and moving down to kneel
next to Matt's dick again. This time he wanked him off, gleefully pumping
Matt's foreskin up and down until with a sharp cry and several agonisingly
wonderful spasms inside his arse, he came.

His little jets of semen sprayed up into the air like a fountain again,
landing with a soft patter all over his chest and stomach, and that was my
cue to lose it in his behind, grabbing him to me in a bear hug and filling
him with my load in a series of long, surging volleys of cum.

Afterwards, the guilt kicked in, and he left almost straight away, stopping
only to sit on the toilet and push as much of my seed out of him as he
could. I tried to make him stay, but he wasn't having any of it, and left
James and I alone.

When he was gone, the naked little preteen came to stand between my legs
where I knelt on the bed. His dick was back at full mast, pointing straight
up at my face when I looked down between our bodies. When I looked back up,
his eyes were boring into mine.

"I'm glad he's gone," he said, in a surprisingly childish tone, filled with
jealousy. "Now I don't have to share you any more."

I reached my hands around behind him, and cupped the pert little backside
I'd plundered less often than I'd have liked.

"Well, yeah," I said, "but you're the one who invited him here. Maybe you
shouldn't've done that if you didn't want me fucking him."

"Just thought you would like him, that's all. He has a bigger dick than me,
and he shoots properly, and has hair. Thought you would prefer him to me."

I looked deep into those eyes, trying to fathom why my heart had just leapt
into my throat. Then, of course, it hit me - I didn't want to see James so
much because I was desperate to get him into bed, but rather because I
liked him. A lot. Liked him in a kind of 'loved him' way.

Actually, it wasn't even that vague.

"James," I said, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, "I need to tell you
something. Something really important. I don't just want to see you because
we want to have sex. And I don't just have sex with boys because I can't
get girls. I'm... well, I'm pretty sure I'm gay, and I like you. Y'know, in
a boyfriend and boyfriend kind of way."

There, it was out there. Everything was on the line. James had shown an
extreme capacity for horniness, but that meant nothing at all about his
sexuality. I might just have been a convenient release valve for him. My
life was in his hands. He could crush me, or he could send me soaring to
euphoric new heights.

He said nothing, but stared back at me. There were the beginnings of tears
in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to clear them. He looked down and
reached out to touch my penis, which stiffened at the contact. He played
with it idly as he twisted side to side, apparently trying to think of
something to say. I tried to remain calm and not to freak him out further,
but it was difficult with the sensations his fingertips were giving me. He
breathed in deeply, and then sighed, sounding as if he had the weight of
the world on his shoulders.

"When I first did it with Paul," he said after a moment, "he said it wasn't
gay to do it. He told me he just wanted to see my willy, and touch it, and
if I let him, he would get me a Playboy centrefold."

I raised my eyebrows. In the days before the internet, to a horny young boy
that was something truly to be desired. In James' case, he'd obviously
thought it was worth letting himself get molested for.

"Did you ever get it?"

"No, he never gave it to me. He just kept saying he would get something
else, something bigger. First it was like, a whole magazine, then it was a
video, and then the last thing was he let me do his sister."

At that point my mouth dropped open.

"Is that what you meant when you said you owed him?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "I did it with her a few days before the trip. Paul
said he had to do me one more time though."

"How old is she? Was it good?"

"It was OK, I suppose," James shrugged. "She's ten. She's done it before,
though. Like, with a grown-up."

It didn't actually surprise me all that much to hear that Paul's little
sister was quite well experienced; he seemed to have the kind of family
where that was bound to happen.

"You don't sound convinced about it," I said, teasingly.

James head shot up, and he stared at me accusingly.

"I thought you would get it!" he spat at me.

"Get what?"

But he didn't answer with words. He sunk to his knees on the coarse carpet
of the hotel room and lowered his mouth over the head of my dick, pulling
back up and hoovering the blood into my shaft until it was fit to burst. He
started to bob rapidly up and down, and when the inevitable happened, he
looked me directly in the eye and swallowed everything I had to give
him. Then he stood up, pushed me by the shoulders until I was lying on the
bed and climbed up next to me, snuggling into my side. He didn't say
anything, but then he didn't need to.

Chapter 4

I woke in the morning to a wonderful experience - a soft, preteen fist
wrapped around my morning hard-on, moving slowly up and down. His head was
on my shoulder, and his little spike poked into my hip. He was watching
what he was doing, and perhaps hadn't noticed me waking, why was probably
why he jumped slightly when I kissed him on the top of his head. He looked
up at me, and said, simply,

"Morning," before going back to the task at hand.

I never did find out how we got away with it. One of the strictest rules of
the trip was that each boy should be back in his own room before 10pm, but
if the knock had come at our door to check, I hadn't heard it the night
before. However it had come about, James had spent the night snuggled into
my side, and when he had woken before me, had decided to have a play with
his new toy.

He moved down my side, and got a closer look at my now perfectly stiff
shaft. He poked his finger into the pucker of my foreskin, and in a move
which has always been guaranteed to push me right to the edge, stuck it all
the way inside and ran it around the ridge of my glans. I groaned and
arched my back, ready to explode at any moment.

Then he stopped, all of a sudden, and turned to me. He looked serious,
hesitant.

"Can I... could I... y'know, do you? Like, in the bum?"

His hesitancy was cute, but also alarming. Clearly he wasn't used to being
the top.

"Have you ever done it before?"

"Er, no, not with a boy. I mean, I did Paul's sister, but that was in her
fanny, not her arse."

"Go on then," I said, and he jumped off the bed with a grin, his little
spike leading the way as he hunted for the tube of lube. When he had it, he
squeezed some onto his finger, and I started to roll over onto my stomach.

"No, don't!" she said. "Do it on your back. I want to do it that way
round."

So I obliged, lifting my knees and feeling the cold hit of the lube on my
sensitive pucker, before his finger was gently, but insistently pushed
inside. He looked so cute, sitting there with his boner pointing skywards,
and the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he
concentrated on getting me ready to take him.

To be fair, he took far longer than he needed, because his little thing
felt thinner going in than his finger had. But he was careful, and loving,
and gentle, and smiled down at me as he flexed his hips and humped me. I
looked down to where his penis entered my body, past his beautifully
defined abs, and my breath caught in my throat - it was an intensely erotic
sight, far sexier than I imagined it being. Of course, James was prone to
cumming rather quickly, and this day was no different - only a few minutes
after pushing through the resistance in my rear, he was shuddering and
jerking, and spraying a couple of tiny little droplets of cum up my
arse. Not that I felt it going in of course.

He collapsed on top of me, and I pulled him up until his head was on my
shoulder, wrapping my arms around him, hugging him tightly to me, and
planting a kiss on his forehead. He lay there for a while, until his
breathing had claimed down, then looked up at me.

"You haven't got off yet!" he said with a mischievous twinkle in his
eye. He reached behind himself, grabbing my hand and sliding it down his
back until it rested on the delicious curve of his rump.

"I want you to do it in there," he declared.

I looked down at him, quite happy to fulfil his wish, but it had a
condition attached. I pushed his shoulder until he lay on his back, and
leaned over him. Slowly, deliberately, half expecting him to stop me at any
second, I leaned down and kissed him.

He kissed back, gently at first, then greedily, frantically, as he realised
how good it felt. Eventually I broke the embrace so that we could both
breathe. I looked down at him, and whispered,

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he giggled. "Are you going to bum me now, or what?"

Chapter 5

I never thought it would change so much, but declaring to James that I
loved him, and hearing that it was reciprocated, made a huge difference to
our relationship. Social convention be damned! We hung around together at
breakfast, lunch and dinner, and afterwards. No longer were we confined to
our room in an orgy of lovemaking either. Somehow things were more relaxed,
ran at an easier pace. We would still retire to my room at night and make
love beneath the covers, but there was no sense of urgency about it any
more. We could sit back, take our time and enjoy it.

We even started being somewhat social, joining the majority of the other
members of our group in the hotel lobby after dinner, so that we could
partake in whatever awful organised activity was taking place each
evening. James joined in because he loved it, and I joined in simply
because I loved being near him, watching him.

"Didn't you know?" we'd ask people when they questioned why a first and a
fifth year were hanging out together. "Didn't we tell you we're distant
cousins?"

And they bought it, too, hook, line and sinker, and suddenly something
which had seemed like an impossible barrier melted away to nothing at all,
and we could be together without fear of being found out. No, of course we
couldn't hold hands in public, nor discuss even the slightest hint of what
we had done in the privacy of my room, but at least we could back in each
other's company, and even get to know each other a little better. Nothing I
learned about James diminished my feelings for him one bit.

All too soon, though, the idyl of our holiday was over, and dull reality
came crashing back in. Fact was, I lived so far from school that I lived
near absolutely none of my classmates, and a very long way away from James,
when all we had to get around with was slow, infrequent public transport or
lifts from our parents. And I could hardly ask my mum to drive me to a town
ten miles away so that I could see my twelve year old boyfriend...

School was our only chance to see each other, but though we snatched what
time we could in the toilets at lunchtimes, we had tone a lot more careful
than we had been in France, for the chances of discovery were that much
higher. Even if people believed that James was a cousin of mine, they were
unlikely to see any reason we should hang around together at school. No, we
had to be far more circumspect than that, and so in then end we had way
less time together than we would have liked.

The one thing I did have to hold onto, though, was a cute photo of us I
carried round in a hidden compartment of my wallet - we'd somehow got away
with going into one of those instant photo booths together, and the top
photo I had of the two of us showed him leaning across and kissing my neck,
my eyes shut in ecstasy.

The other photo, folded behind carefully, was the one I wanked to when he
wasn't around to give me personal attention - he'd had a raging erection,
and had stood on the stool and pulled his trousers and pants down at the
front to give the camera an eyeful. I couldn't get enough of his rock hard
three inch boner, the way it was very white in contrast to his tanned
tummy, and the way the foreskin quivered when his boner jerked with his
heartbeat. Obviously, the photo couldn't show that, but my memories -
fuelled by the picture - sufficed.

---

Summer came upon us slowly. I never thought I'd see the day when I didn't
have to get up and revise (I'd been having GCSE exams, and the work was
killing me), but when finally I was released from my torment, it was a
great relief. My parents had agreed that I didn't have to get a job if I
helped out around the house. I would set to making a dent in my dad's DIY
to-do list, something he wasn't able to do himself, as he was either
travelling for business, or knackered from travelling for
business. Honestly, it was a bit of a cop-out, a bit of an easy ride. I
didn't have to work that hard, and I didn't have to get a summer job as
most of my friends had.

Having said that, it wasn't easy growing up where I did, in a tiny village
of only a couple of hundred people. There was almost no-one my age around,
and none of them went to my school, so I had no friends around to play
with. It was because of this that I got into mountain biking, and I loved
to disappear into the woods that surrounded the village to spend the days
finding new and exciting trails. It also gave me the opportunity to indulge
in a favourite pastime - wanking outdoors. I loved to climb trees and sit
in the branches, abusing myself until I shot my load out into space,
watching it tumble to the earth beneath me. Then I'd milk the last drop out
onto my fingers and lick them clean, before continuing with my riding as if
nothing had happened.

I made the trip across the fields on my bike, and into civilisation a few
times to see James in the first two weeks of the holidays. I arrived at his
house to find him alone, abandoned by his mum since she had to work. She
obviously considered him old enough to look after himself, which he
probably was, in truth. I wonder if she would have trusted him had she
known that his lover - four years his senior - had bent him over the dining
room table and ploughed his behind until he begged to be taken in hand and
made to cum. Or whether she imagined for a minute that he was roughly taken
up against the back door, in full view of the shocked seven year old boy
from next door who peered in through the kitchen window from the lofty
vantage of his treehouse. Or indeed, that he had cried out in ecstasy and
splattered his little droplets of cum on the floor of the hallway as his
boyfriend fucked him doggy style.

---

It was on a warm summer Sunday that my holiday, and my life, changed for
good. I'd woken fairly early, a light breeze blowing through my open window
and my tabby cat purring on my stomach. As soon as she noticed my eyes
open, she hopped down onto the floor and started to circle impatiently,
waiting for me to get out of bed and feed her. Allowing a minute for my
morning erection to subside, I rolled out of bed and opened the door to my
room. Immediately Cat (it was a simple name, but fitting...) bolted through
the door for the kitchen, and I followed her, rubbing sleep from my
eyes. After feeding her, and myself, I wandered back upstairs to take a
cool shower and cleanse myself of the muggy nighttime's sweat. I could
sense that this day would be in some way special; where the feeling came
from, though, was an utter mystery.

Sunday was the day my parents slept in. My dad was around, for once, and he
and my mum wouldn't be up for a couple of hours yet. Knowing they liked to
read the paper on a Sunday morning, I decided to take a walk up to the
newsagents and pick up a copy of their favourite broadsheet. While I was
there I could check whether or not my copy of Mountain Biking UK had been
delivered, too.

I grabbed a bit of change off my bedside table and shoved it into the
pocket of my shorts, before locking the door behind me and ambling off up
the dirt track that passed for our road. The village was dead. I mean,
absolutely dead. It seemed that everyone had had the same idea as my mum
and dad, or were at church.

Over the road from the village's only bus stop, I saw an unfamiliar car -
when your village is this small, believe me you notice everything like
that. It was parked outside the Jonhstones' old house. Mr. and
Mrs. Johnstone had been a lovely old couple, but had both recently passed
away, leaving the house empty.

I was scoping the car and not really looking where I was going as I pushed
through the door of the newsagents, and walked straight into a small
boy. More precisely, my small boy!

"Tom!" he exclaimed, as I helped him up from the floor where the impact had
deposited him.

"James!" I replied, putting years of very expensive schooling in English
language to no use whatsoever.

We had a quick hug, but the chance of being seen in public forced us
apart. Quietly as I could, I said,

"I've missed you."

"Me too," he said with a big grin now splitting his face.

It had been too long since I'd last seen James, and now he was stood in
front of me in my village newsagents, grasping a copy of my favourite
magazine. I was completely lost...

"What are you doing here?"

James just giggled, a delightful sound.

"See that house?" he said, pointing across the road to the Johnstones'
place. "My mum and dad want to buy it."

"You're moving here?"

"Yeah, how cool is that?" James said, the smile still splitting his face
nearly in half.

"How come you never said anything in school?"

"Well, they only found the house a few days ago, but they really want it."

"That's so cool."

It was all I could think of to stay. Once again, so much for the
education...

"I've got to go now," said James, much to my disappointment. He was halfway
out the door when he turned back to me, grinning again.

"I'll make sure mum and dad buy the house!"

He turned to go again, then hesitated. Looking around carefully, he darted
back into the shop and dragged me down to kiss him. It was stupidly
dangerous, but at leat this was before CCTV was ubiquitous. Even more
ludicrous was the way he grabbed my stiffening dick through my shorts and
squeezed it hard.

"Mum's working all day on Tuesday," he grinned at me.

With that, he was off across the road, running into his parents and little
brother as they emerged from the house. My heart skipped a beat when I saw
James' dad turn to the estate agent with a big smile on his face and shake
the man's hand. Summer might not be so boring after all.

Chapter 6

Fortune was surely smiling down on me that summer. How else would it have
occurred that James' mum was a solicitor, and was able to rush through the
paperwork for the house? If not for Lady Luck smiling down on me, how else
would James and his family have moved in merely two weeks later?

He called to tell me the news only a couple of days beforehand. In the
background I could hear manic sounds of packing, as his parents desperately
tried to get ready for the moving trucks. We never called each other, for
fear of discovery, even though he had my number, and I his. This was a
special occasion, though, and he had taken the risk, and I couldn't have
been happier.

For the next two days I couldn't concentrate on a thing, so much so that my
mother starting wondering what was up with me. I tried to pass it off as
excitement at the imminent start of the World Cup, but she wasn't entirely
convinced; I'd never been that bothered by football before.

The day James and his family moved in, I was in for a surprise. I'd not
expected to see my little love until we could arrange a meeting away from
prying eyes - we had a lot of catching up to do, and I wanted to do it
somewhere extremely private, and take my time. But when my mum returned
from the supermarket she had a little present for me; there was no way she
could have realised how important it was.

"I've been in the village talking to the new family," she said as I helped
her get all the shopping bags into the house. "Did you know they've got a
boy who goes to your school?"

"No, I had no idea," I lied, hoping that my rather unconvincing performance
wasn't too transparent.

"Well, he's probably a bit young for you to notice. He's just finished his
first year. I told his mum that you might not mind too much showing what's
what around here. Is that OK?"

I had to force myself not to smile. My mum was providing me with the
perfect opportunity to see James without any possibility of my motives
being questioned. Trying to hide my happiness, I pretended to agree
grudgingly, while my heart did somersaults in my chest. Trying not to
appear too eager, I left it an agonising hour before I wandered up to the
house opposite the newsagents, and casually knocked on the door.

It was answered by a middle age woman who followed the housewife mould that
my mum had almost perfected. I introduced myself politely, and explained
that I would show James around the village if his mother didn't mind. She
seemed all too eager to get him out of under her feet, and thankfully
decided that James' little brother should stay in, not yet being old enough
to come out with us 'big boys'. Although he pouted, Paul (now there's irony
for you...) didn't throw a tantrum, quite possibly because James took him
to one side and spoke to him about it.

I was quite amazed with his ability to calm his little brother - my elder
brother would have taken to opportunity to taunt me if we'd been in a
similar situation at that age, and I was touched that James cared enough
about his brother to make sure he'd be alright. After a few awkward moments
where James and I suddenly realised we'd been staring at each other and
grinning while his parents were around, we finally left the house and
ventured out into our village.

It was, typically enough, a glorious summer day. I don't know where they've
all gone these days, but summers used to be filled with sunshine and
warmth, and only the occasional thunder storm. This was one of those humid
days, and you could feel the storm coming on, but we decided to have fun
while we could. I'd once told James there was a place in the local woods a
friend and I had built where we could get away and... well... He decided
that this was what he wanted to see first.

It took about twenty minutes to make the hike, and we were both fairly
sweaty by the time we scrambled through the undergrowth to our
sanctuary. Most of the wood was rotting, and a significant part of the roof
had caved in in one corner, but the floor was dry enough to sit on most of
the time, especially given the great weather we were having. James and I
flopped down side by side, leaning against one another and panting slightly
from the exertion in the summer heat. The sweat running down my back was
too much to handle, and I had to give my body room to breathe. Leaning
forward, I stripped my sodden t-shirt from my torso and threw it onto the
floor on the far side of the shack. James smiled a wicked smile as I did
so, and stood to strip not only his t-shirt, but his shoes, socks and
shorts. He stood there in the tightest pair of briefs I think I have ever
seen, which left very little to the imagination.

"You like them?" he asked, his trademark devilish smile very much in
evidence.

"Oh yeah..."

"I saw you coming up the road to our house earlier, so I thought I'd put
them on for you."

"Wow, thanks! Where did you get pants like that? Surely your mum doesn't
buy them for you?"

"Nah, I nicked them off my brother!"

I couldn't help laughing, which James decided to take as a cue to jump
me. His sharp little fingers were all over my ribs, jabbing and poking,
sending me into an uncontrollable bout of giggles. I would never have
behaved this way around anyone else, but James bought out the side of me
which had never grown up. When he finally relented, I stuck my tongue out
at him, which was immediately sucked into his mouth.

The kiss was pure passion, heightened by love. We sucked each others' back
teeth out for minute after minute, his writhing on my lap bringing us both
to full attention in no time. The front of his tiny briefs was tented out
obscenely by his boyhood, which looked as if it had somehow grown in just
the month we'd been apart.

My erection was trapped down one leg of my shorts, and James smiled as he
reached down inside my shorts to pull it upright. I smiled my thanks, and
he sat back down on my lap, pressing his barely clothed boner against my
pants-and-shorts shrouded equivalent. With his cheeks flushed, he pulled
away from kissing me and said, in a desperate little voice,

"I really need to get off!"

I nodded - so did I, but his need seemed more urgent than mine, and I was
quite happy to make it happen. James stood and pulled down his briefs in
one movement, and I gazed at his dick with the same wonder I did every time
I saw it. It was a perfect uncut specimen, perhaps just short of four
inches these days, straight as a dye and as hard as rock. It jerked in time
with his heartbeat, and I just had time to notice a maybe three or four
little hairs at its base before James pushed forward into my mouth.

I let him fuck it in an out a few times before I turned on full suction and
grabbed his tight little backside to help with the rhythm. I made a tight
tunnel with my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and I could feel James'
foreskin rolling back and forth over his head as he fucked my mouth. He
started panting, and when I looked up at him I could see beads of sweat
running down his forehead. His cheeks were crimson, and the blush quickly
spread to his chest. He just had time to say,

"I'm cu-" before the little rod of juvenile flesh in my mouth kicked and
spat its meagre load onto my tongue, and the breath was ripped from his
lungs by the strength of his climax. His little emission set my tastebuds
tingling and the cum oozing out of my untouched penis.

The orgasm was too much for James, and his legs gave out. He slumped down
on top of me, and quickly grabbed me in a bear hug, burying his head in my
shoulder. I stroked his back slowly with both hands, occasionally
scratching lightly with my fingernails, which I knew really relaxed my
little boy love. I heard a mumbled message about missing me, before the
strength leaked out of James' arms and he fell asleep. I must have been
exhausted too, because the next thing I remember was being woken by an
enormous peal of thunder.

James, too, had come back to life with a start, and I could see a little
fear in his eyes before he realised where he was sitting, and relaxed a
little with a slight smile. Predictably enough, the first heavy drops of
rain started to fall before the rolling thunder had died away. I knew we
would be safe in our shelter, but there was no way we could make it back to
either of our houses without getting utterly drenched on the way. So we
decided to stay put for the time being, and wait the storm out.

Now was my chance to really impress my little boyfriend. Reaching into the
pocket of my shorts, I pulled out my brand new mobile phone. It was about
the time when the devices were beginning to be reasonably priced, and my
dad had bought me one as an early birthday present. He claimed that it
would help me out in case I got stuck anywhere, but I knew that really he
was just as much a techno-junky as I was, and wanted to play with a new
toy. James was stunned, and even more so when I said he should use it to
call his parents and let them know he was safe.

We decided that it was best to say that we were at my house, since I knew
my mum would be out for the rest of the day and thus couldn't confirm
whether we'd been there or not. The phone call was quickly made, James
making me laugh when he made the universal hand motions to suggest that his
mum wouldn't shut up. When it was done, we snuggled together to wait out
the storm, listening in silence to the hammer of raindrops on the roof of
the shelter.

Holding tightly on to my young love, I smiled to myself. James noticed, and
asked what was up.

"I was just thinking how much better my life is since you came into it," I
said.

James smiled broadly and gave me a peck on the cheek, before leaning into
me once more, hugging my arm around himself.

It really was going to be a great summer.

The End

zackmcnaught@hotmail.com