Archive-name: Samesex/fathson.txt

Archive-author: Ganymede

Archive-title: Like Father, Like Son





WARNING:

	This story deals with the taboo subject of incest and

includes descriptions of a variety of sexual acts between men

and MINOR boys.



COPYRIGHT:

	Copyright is held by the author at an27868@anon.penet.fi.

September, 1993. Fair use consists of copying and distributing

via electronic means in the public domain only. In printed media,

copyright protection remains for more than individual copies.





Chapter 1.



Mark Gordon stretched back into the seat, basking in the 

morning sun as it streamed through the bay window into his bedroom. 

He yawned sleepily, almost dozing in the sun, then he stretched out 

lazily. The sun glistened in his dark brown hair, reflecting off 

and intensifying the reddish highlights. He turned back to look as 

his friend Adrian who lounged comfortably on the bed. He liked 

Adrian. They had been best friends beginning from about two weeks 

after he and his father had moved into the big old house at the end 

of the street. That had been nearly six years ago, right after his 

mother had left for good. Mark had long forgotten why his mother 

had left and the events that led up to her departure had been pushed 

into the innermost recesses of his mind.



Mark leaned forward and picked up the plastic model of a 

Porsche 928-S4 that he'd finished only two days ago. He'd been 

lonely for the two weeks while Adrian was away visiting his uncle 

in the country. Assembling the intricate model of the car had 

helped to pass the long days he spent by himself. But now Adrian 

was back and they still had about three weeks of summer holidays 

left before school started. Already the two boys were bored. It was 

almost too hot to go outside.



"You did a really cool job, Mark," Adrian said. "This is the 

best one ever."



Mark looked up at his friend and away from his current 

activity of running the car along the window sill. Mark was making 

a small growling noise as he pretended to change gears. He braked 

his imaginary Porsche, "I'm gonna get one of these when I'm older. 

These are the best cars ever built." His voice was slightly higher 

pitched than Adrian's but both boys were still prepubescent. They 

were still filled with the daydreams of youth, the unfilled 

longings for the things of which their fantasies were made off. The 

chromed wheels of the model car sparkled in the sun as Mark reversed 

it back towards himself, "The S4 can do 170 you know. And zero to 

sixty in a bit under five seconds! It's got like 340 horse power," 

he added accelerating the car down the window sill again.



"You wanna take it out on the driveway again?" Adrian asked.



"Nah, maybe later, when it cools down. It's too hot out there 

now." Mark twisted away and placed the model car back in its 

assigned spot, next to the 930 Porsche and the Corvette. "So what 

did you and your uncle do while you were away?" he asked.



Adrian looked up suddenly from contemplating his shoes, "Huh?" 

he said in surprise. "Oh", he shrugged, "Not a lot. Mostly he worked 

around the farm during the day. He got up pretty early, so he could 

work before it got too hot. I helped him a bit, he let me drive the 

tractor a coupla times too. Most afternoons we went swimming in the 

creek."



"Cool! It was pretty dull around here without you," Mark said. 

The boy looked out the window absently as he scratched his bare 

leg. The house cleaner had already left for the day. The big old 

house was filled with a quiet coolness and the lemony smell of 

furniture polish drifting in the air. The two boys were alone until 

Mark's father came home from work in the evening. "So, you wanna 

watch TV or something?" Mark asked his friend.



Adrian shrugged, "Nothing much on yet. Just the soaps and 

stuff. You got any new videos."



"I tried to get my dad to buy me one on the weekend, but he 

couldn't find one he liked. I wanted the new Dirty Harry one, but 

there was no way," Mark said. "So what do you wanna do?" Adrian 

shrugged and sighed quietly as he looked away into the distant 

corner of the room. It bothered Mark. Normally Adrian had all the 

ideas when they were bored. His friend was inattentive, almost 

paying no attention to him. He'd never seen Adrian like this 

before. He'd always been kind of quiet, but this was different. It 

was like something was eating at his friend. Mark tried the direct 

approach. "So what's the problem, Adrian?" he asked as he flipped 

at the curtains in frustration and increasing boredom.



"Nothing!" the other boy replied curtly. There was a resentful 

note in his voice as if Mark's curiosity had somehow invaded his 

privacy.



Mark looked at Adrian, "Nothing? Okay, have it your way," he 

said. The other boy smiled weakly, almost grateful that Mark had 

backed off. "You wanna do our dicks?" Mark asked quietly, 

hopefully.



At that Adrian looked back at Mark, "Huh?"



"You heard me. Well do you?" he asked.



Adrian smiled and swallowed as he looked at Mark seriously, 

"Here,... now,...?"



"No dummy! Out in the back yard when my dad comes home. What 

do you think?"



Adrian giggled as the image crossed his mind. "He'd be 

pissed", he smiled.



"You're not wrong 'bout that. Well do you?" Mark asked again 

persistently. Adrian nodded and twisted onto one side of the bed 

to make space for his friend as Mark padded across the room in his 

bare feet. He flopped down on the bed, sitting barely inches away 

from the other boy. Already he could feel the now familiar surge 

inside him as his pent-up desire surfaced. Mark was more aware of 

Adrian's body than he'd ever been in the past. He could feel the 

familiar warmth and growing sensation in his groin. He was becoming 

hard the way he always did whenever his attention was directed to 

that small though very sensitive part of his young body. "You wanna 

take off all our clothes this time?" Mark asked as he started to 

undo the metal clasp of his shorts.



Adrian shook his head as he concentrated on his zipper. Then 

he lay back and lifted his buttocks up of the bed, tugging his 

shorts downward to his knees at the same time as Mark. For a second 

Mark glanced at his friend's exposed body. The small penis was hard 

and sticking outward like his own. The other boy's testicles hung 

loosely in the silky folds of his scrotum while his own little 

testicles formed a little rounded, wrinkled lump underneath his 

penis. Their penises were almost the same size when they were limp. 

If anything Adrian's penis was a fraction longer and thicker, 

although Mark hadn't been circumcised and he was about two inches 

taller and few pounds heavier. When the boys were erect the 

difference in size was more visible. After many measurements the 

indisputable fact was that Adrian's penis was somewhere between a 

half-inch and three-quarters-of-an-inch longer than Mark's. Mark 

argued that the former was the accurate measurement, while Adrian 

held out for the latter. At eleven years old, a fraction of an inch 

is important. However, the difference didn't end there. Adrian's 

penis was thicker. It was a flat wedge-like shape that tapered 

outward from a broad base and seemed to join to his pubis as an 

extension of his belly muscles. Mark's penis was thinner and the 

attachment to his pubis was marked by a little furrow on the sides 

and top. It seemed to come from underneath him as an attachment to 

his lower belly.



The two boys looked up, their eyes meeting. Their immature 

bodies almost quivered with excitement as they reached toward each 

other's genitals. Their fingers were outstretched and seeking the 

comforting hard warmth of the other boy as their hands were drawn 

inexorably closer to the other boy's sex organs. As Adrian's hand 

closed around Mark's penis and pulled down to retract the foreskin 

over the little bulbous head, Mark sighed. His penis flexed 

instinctively, jumping happily. "I missed you," Mark said 

plaintively, "I missed doing this too," he added as an 

afterthought. His hand now closed possessively around Adrian's 

penis and his fingers pressed into his palm, his thumb stroking the 

tip of the other boy's penis.



"We're dick buddies," Adrian grinned.



"Huh? What did you say?" Mark asked. He was now engrossed in 

the wonderfully feelings that spread outward from his groin and 

tingled up his spine. He felt warm and happy all over, the silky 

soft skin of Adrian's throbbing penis hot in his hand. 



"We're dick buddies, 'cause we like each other's dicks".



"Yeahhhh", Mark sighed again.



Adrian sighed too, settling his head back into the pillows. 

His eyes were half-closed in bliss as he gently caressed his 

friend's penis, stroking the short hard shaft and tickling the 

little knot of his balls, then going back to rub the delicate little 

head between his thumb and first finger, "Yeah!" he said quietly. 

Unlike Mark who was grinning happily, secure and content in the 

playful touching, his heart beating fast, Adrian was almost 

detached from the gentle game. His thoughts were elsewhere.



After about a minute, Mark looked up curiously. "So what's the 

problem, Adrian?" he asked his friend.



"I already told you. Nothing! Okay? Just leave me alone." Mark 

swallowed, taking his hand away quickly from Adrian's penis. "No 

dummy, I didn't mean that. I mean,... well,... I,... I don't want 

to talk about it. Okay?" Adrian said, his voice breaking with 

rising anger.



"Yeah, sure, if that's what you want," Mark said sulkily, 

aware of the distance growing between them. He liked Adrian. Adrian 

was his best friend, his only real friend in the whole world. They 

had always trusted each other and they had always been able to talk. 

Now it was if a barrier had formed between them, Mark on one side, 

Adrian on the other.



His hand moved slowly back to Adrian's penis and the two boys 

continued to fondle each other quietly but the passion that Mark 

had felt earlier was extinguished. Long slow minutes passed. The 

boys continued their touching gently and their penises slightly 

softened. No longer charged with the excitement of the moment, the 

tiny bluish-purple veins were now barely visible. Finally Adrian 

spoke, his voice trembling nervously, "You gotta promise never to 

tell anyone, ever."



"Cross my heart!" Mark promised sincerely as he wondered what 

was going on.



There was another long silence as Adrian took his hand away 

from Mark's penis and turned onto his back, looking up at the 

ceiling thoughtfully. He breathed deeply, "Mark,... Mark while I 

was away,... I had sex."



"Huh?" Mark said. It wasn't jealousy that shattered his 

thoughts but a terrible sinking despair. The loneliness that he had 

known while Adrian was away intensified suddenly, "You had sex?", 

he asked uncertainly, his voice quavering awkwardly. "You did it 

with a girl?" he asked incredulously.



Adrian let out a high pitched giggle that sounded remarkably 

like a girl's. "No dummy,... Not with a girl. I did it with a 

guy,... an older guy." There was no disguising the note of pride 

in his voice, the knowledge that he knew something, a lot, that his 

friend didn't know."



Mark sat up and leaned on his outstretched arm as he looked 

down at his friend. Adrian smiled smugly but his eyes avoided 

Mark's gaze. "An older guy?" he said in disbelief, then added, "How 

old? A lot older than you? Who?"



Adrian smirked knowingly, suddenly enjoying his friend's 

sudden spurt of jealousy. "A lot older," he confirmed. "He's 

about,... let's see,... 'bout 35 I guess, maybe a little bit 

older,... but I don't think so," he said in his most teasing voice.



Mark trembled in excitement. Disbelief flashed across his 

face. He had never told Adrian about his deepest, darkest secret, 

about the thing that interested him the most, about the thoughts 

that had been with him for as long as he could remember. They were 

thoughts that he'd tried again and again to submerge deeply into 

the recesses of his mind. They were thoughts that always seemed to 

come back with a vengeance and without warning, getting stronger 

and stronger each time until they were now impossible for him to 

ignore. "You did it with a man,... a grown man?" he asked, his voice 

barely more than a whisper.



"Huh! Huh!" Adrian acknowledged.



"But,...but you're eleven, you're a,... kid, you're still a 

kid like me," Mark breathed out, wondering, questioning, still 

disbelieving, hoping.



"So? Kids can do it too. Boys CAN have SEX you know," Adrian 

replied.



Mark breathed out, the next question looming in his mind. It 

frightened him. "But,... but what did you do?" he asked quietly. 

He hoped that Adrian would answer as he wondered if all he'd done 

was touch and rub the man's penis the same way the two boys had 

been doing since last Christmas.



"Everything," Adrian said simply. "It's more than just dick 

games you know."



"Yeah but what?" Mark asked innocently. His curiosity was now 

insatiable as the questions formed rapidly in his mind, "Tell me 

what happened? What you did do? Please?"



"You're never gonna tell anybody, ever? You promised," Adrian 

teased. Mark nodded. "I did it with my uncle."



"Your uncle?" Mark asked uncertainly. His heart leaped and 

then crashed as he looked at Adrian in disbelief.



Adrian nodded his head and then turned to face Mark. "On the 

second night I was there,... he came into my bedroom. He came to 

say goodnight,... but he sat down on the side of the bed. It was 

way past ten o'clock and it was dark. I could barely see him and 

he was only a foot away. Paul, that's my uncle, started rubbing my 

shoulders and necks. He was really gentle and he barely touched me. 

It was more like a tickle, but it felt really nice. It was really 

hot too, all I had on was my underpants but I had the sheet over 

me." He paused and shivered slightly as the memory flooded back. 

He hadn't been frightened at the time but he was now.



"What happened?" Mark asked excitedly.



"His hands were cool and they kept on moving around and 

around, each time going just a little bit further down and kind of 

pushing the sheet as well. I really like my Uncle Paul and I felt 

so good all over. I didn't want him to stop and I was getting kind 

of sleepy. Then he got to my tummy and he started playing with my 

belly button. It was about then I realized my dick was stiff. I was 

scared he'd go down a little bit further and find out. I was kind 

of worried what he would think with me getting hard from him 

touching me."



"Yeah, I guess. What,... what did you do?" Mark asked 

hesitantly.



"I tried to roll onto my side, like I was going to sleep..." 

The boy hesitated as he remembered and then continued, "... but 

Paul held my hip and made me lie on my back. That's when he said 

that I shouldn't be scared. That he knew what I liked it. I couldn't 

think of anything to say. All I could do was shake my head. Anyway 

Paul lifted back the sheet, all the way past my feet. He didn't 

touch me for a bit, like for about a minute. He was thinking I 

guess, then he put his hand over my dick...." Adrian's voice 

trailed off. He swallowed and reached down between his slender pale 

legs. His fingers enclosed his small hardening cock and he began 

to rub gently along the full length but concentrating most of his 

movement on the little reddened helmet-tip.



"Wow!" Mark said, his voice crackling with growing excitement. 

"He touched your dick?" he asked still uncertain. His pulse 

quickened instantly with a surge of adrenaline.



"Uh huh. He didn't stop even though I was shaking my head. He 

kind of started rubbing me there, using just the tips of his fingers 

really lightly on my balls. I thought about asking him to stop, 

Mark. I did I really did, but I couldn't. If you'd been there you'd 

know, it felt so good,...It was a really nice feeling," Adrian said 

honestly as he looked at his friend and breathed out. The boy felt 

the relief that comes from sharing something that had been worrying 

at his mind. He hadn't felt guilt or shame at the time, that had 

come afterwards, in the morning, and by then it was too late. "He 

knew I liked it too, that I didn't want him to stop. Then he asked 

me if he could take my underpants off, because they were in the 

way. I tried to shake my head but I couldn't. I tried to see his 

face. I wanted to tell him no. I could just make out that he was 

smiling at me. He was happy, and I was happy and I nodded. But 

Mark,... Mark he knew I was going to say it was all right,...he 

already had my underpants about halfway down when I nodded."



"You're kidding", Mark said. The words flew through his head, 

confused with his own hidden desires and merged with his 

imagination, it was as though he was there in Adrian's body. "Go 

on," he prompted eagerly, then suddenly looking away at the window 

as if afraid of his own eagerness.



"He took them right off and then I felt his hands moving my 

feet outward so that my legs were apart. He kind of slid his hands 

back up my legs. He went really slowly, until his hands were right 

next to my dick and then he started stroking my balls. I think with 

his thumbs. It felt even better than before. Then, after a bit, he 

started rubbing my dick. He said I was so hard because I liked it 

so much. He said that I was just like him, that he liked boys like 

me and I was old enough to start if I wanted to. I didn't know 

exactly what he wanted, but I guessed I said okay because the next 

thing that happened was that my uncle stood up and started taking 

off his clothes."



"Nooo!" Mark breathed out, "What,... what did you do, Adrian? 

You saw his penis,... his dick then?"



Adrian giggled, as he stopped stroking his own penis, reached 

out and took Mark's not-unwilling hand and placed it over the small 

firm shaft. "You do me, okay, but do it mostly on the tip 'cause 

that's where it's the most sensitive," he instructed. Mark's hand 

moved awkwardly, suddenly aware that a man's hand had touched 

Adrian's penis. A grown man's hand had touched every part of his 

best friend's body, had done things to him that Mark barely 

understood, or even realized were possible. Mark suddenly felt very 

very young. Younger than his eleven years, far younger than his 

intellectual age which was somewhere around fourteen.



"Yeah! He's got a pretty big one. It' sa lot bigger than mine 

or yours. It's really long and thick. And his balls are huge, 'bout 

like golf balls. He's really hairy down there too, not all over his 

body, but just down there. Anyway, once Uncle Paul was naked too 

he lay down next to me and I turned over to face him. He hugged me 

so tight that it even hurt a bit. Then,... then he started kissing 

me, Mark!"



"He,... he kissed you?"



"Everywhere. On the lips mostly, but all over my face and 

neck, on my shoulders and chest too, going down to about here I 

guess," Adrian said, pointing to the bottom of his rib cage. "And 

all the time he kept playing with my dick. We did that for a long 

while, until I got sleepy. I wasn't sure what I was s'posed to do, 

so I just lay there, until,..."



"Go on," Mark prompted again.



"Well, I wanted to kiss him back. Then the next thing that 

happened was that we're doing it mouth to mouth and his tongue was 

inside me. In my mouth, Mark, and,... so,... so I pushed my tongue 

into his mouth,... and we kissed like that until I was almost ready 

to faint. Then when we stopped he started kissing my body again. 

Only this time not just on my chest but all the way down, like to 

my knees."



"He,... but that means,... that means he kissed you there?" 

Mark said questioningly as he glanced downward at Adrian's penis.



Adrian smirked knowingly at his friend, "He did more that kiss 

it, Mark. A lot more! He practically sucked it off me. He sucked 

my cock into his mouth, and my balls too, then he started to move 

his head back and forth and rub his tongue all over me."



"Yeah! No shit! How,... did it feel?" Mark asked urgently. His 

slender body trembled with excitement and his mind was spinning in 

turmoil as he tried to imagine, wondering what it was like.



"'Awesome'! It was wild. He was incredible. His mouth was 

really hot and wet, and it felt so soft. He did that to me for a 

long while. When he stopped he said it was because I was still too 

young to 'come', but he knew I'd really liked it a lot."



"Huh, but what's 'come' mean?" Mark asked tentatively, knowing 

that he was displaying his ignorance.



"You dummy! It's sperm. Remember what they told us at school 

about making babies. It's the stuff that comes from your balls,... 

well, when we're older it does," Adrian said expertly, then added, 

"Anyway neither of us can 'come' yet because nothing comes out when 

we jerk off." He smirked at Mark's confusion, "Jerk off! Dummy! 

Play with our dicks, okay?"



"Ohh! Okay! Yeah, my Dad told me about sperm and how it makes 

babies. We won't make sperm for a few years yet, Dad said it mostly 

happens when a boy's about thirteen or so. What happened after 

that?" Mark prodded, playfully squeezing the other boy's small 

wedge-shaped cock in his hand.



"He rolled onto his back and I got on top of him. He made me 

scoot down a bit so our cocks were rubbing together. I had to move 

up and down so his cock was rubbing under my belly. At first he 

held me by the hips and sort of helped me move until I got the 

idea." Adrian smiled shyly as he remembered what happened next. 

"Then when I was doing it right he made me stop for a bit so that 

he could stick his finger in my backside."



Mark's mouth opened wordlessly as Adrian's smile widened. 

"Yuk!" he said at last.



"But it's not Mark. It was wild! He licked it first so it was 

slippery and he pushed it in a bit more than halfway I think," he 

said looking at Mark.



"It still sounds yucky. It's,... it's dirty back there, that's 

gross" he insisted.



"No it's not but it doesn't matter. It was better than 

anything you can imagine. He moved his finger all around inside me, 

kind of like pushing it in and then pulling it out almost the whole 

way. Sometimes it got so I couldn't stand it any more. It was like 

I was going to explode and I had to ask him to stop for a while. 

You know it hurt but it wasn't painful because it felt so good. I 

never believed anything could feel that nice. Paul said it was 

because of something inside me. He called it a prostate, whatever 

that is. Anyway I'd had a shower before I got into bed, and I kind 

of knew that he didn't care if I pooped on his finger. We did that 

for a long while, until his breathing got really fast. We were both 

gasping and moaning really loudly. By then his finger was stabbing 

into me really fast and going the whole way inside me because I 

could feel his knuckles hitting my crack. My butt-hole was all 

slicked up and making this weird sucking sound and I felt loose 

inside. Mark I,... I thought I was gonna die... It felt so good. 

He did that to me right up to the end and then he pulled his finger 

out. That was when he started acting wild. He grabbed me by the 

hips and started moving me up and down really fast until he kind 

of groaned and arched way up in the air. He came all over me. It 

started spurting out between our bellies until his sperm was 

everywhere. It felt like it was all over me. Some went as far as 

here," Adrian smirked as he put his hand near his breast.



"Yuk!", Mark breathed out, "He did that on you? That's gross."



Adrian turned at looked at the other boy lying beside him. 

Mark's hand clasped his penis, now unmoving. "Mark, I,... I always 

wondered why,... I was different... If I was gay? I know I am now, 

I liked it. And it wasn't yucky. It was nice because I'd made him 

do it." The statement came with such honesty and openness that Mark 

looked at his best friend in astonishment, his mouth agape. 



Momentarily, he glanced at Adrian's pale slender body, "I 

don't know," he said with difficulty, trying desperately to find 

the words he needed. 



"Huh? Don't know what?" Adrian asked cautiously.



"Oh! Hmmm, nothing,. I guess,...", Mark lied in sudden relief, 

"... I was just thinking about something else."



"You were gonna say something," Adrian challenged, "You think 

I'm gross, don't you?"



"No!... No I wasn't! Then what happened?" Mark asked.



"We lay there until we got our breaths back. It was kind of 

messy with his come all over me. It's real slippery at first, then 

it gets kind of sticky, so Paul got a washcloth out of the bathroom 

and wiped it off me. I was nearly asleep when he did it, I think I 

dozed off after he finished, 'cause I remember him lying down 

beside me and rubbing my back. He went back to his own room later 

on, but I was asleep by then. Next morning he didn't mention it, 

neither did I, it was like it never happened."



"Why didn't you say something?" Mark asked. He thought for a 

moment. He remembered the warnings from school and from his father 

about 'strange men', about 'not doing things that he didn't want 

to do'. He remembered about 'telling a responsible adult, like a 

parent or teacher'. "Shouldn't you tell someone?" he said naively.



Adrian shook his head, "Yeah, sure I should tell my mom that 

her brother fucked me huh?"



Mark looked at Adrian in astonishment. Amazement fleeted 

across his face. "Huh?" he murmured uncertainly.



"Don't be dumb Mark, you heard what I said," Adrian said 

angrily. "He screwed me for most of the two weeks I was there. Don't 

you understand? I don't want to tell on him. What he did to me, I 

liked... I wanted him to... Sometimes I even asked him to. What 

they don't tell you about that stuff at school is how much you like 

it. It was the most fun I'd ever had."



"But,... but how?" Mark asked guiltily. He was now bewildered, 

electrified by what he'd heard and the sudden discovery that his 

deepest, darkest secret was looking him right in the face from 

about a foot away. "I mean, well,... what happened?"



Adrian shrugged petulantly and for the first time Mark noticed 

the change in his friend. The gesture was born of an instinct that 

had always been there though he had never noticed it before. It 

wasn't the way a boy was supposed to act. He swallowed and tried 

to fight the truth of it. They were alike in many ways but this 

frightened him. It wasn't that the other boy was sensual. Mark had 

known that for some time, ever since they'd started 'playing with 

their dicks'; or even that Adrian exuded a sensitivity and 

fragility that was unnatural in a boy; it was something else. It 

was as if Adrian wanted to appear weaker and gentler. It was almost 

as though he was trying to act like the girls at school.



"The next night he came into say 'goodnight'. Only not really 

'cause he didn't have any clothes on and his dick was really hard 

and sticking way out. You know what I mean? I'd been thinking about 

what happened all day and I was kind of pissed because Paul ignored 

me almost the whole time. Whenever I looked at him he looked away 

in another direction. It was like he was ashamed of me and of what 

we'd done. Anyway I tried to tell him I didn't want to do anything 

again like that,... I tried, I really did. All I could think about 

was what he'd done to me the night before, about how nice it had 

been. I couldn't help looking at his dick. I couldn't look away. 

It was so big and it was jerking a little bit like it was alive. 

He stood at the side of the bed looking down at me. Each time I 

said I didn't want to, he just smiled. Mark,...after about a minute 

my dick got so hard I thought it would burst... He knew I had a 

hard-on too. Finally I couldn't say no, I just lay there looking 

back up at him, knowing what was gonna happen."



"But you,... you wanted to?" Mark asked awkwardly.



The other boy nodded. "He pulled back the sheet and pulled my 

underpants off, and then he lay down beside me. He started doing 

the same things that he did the night before. I s'pose we did that 

for about a half hour. He didn't come but I sure got him close to 

it a few times. Every time he made me stop. He said he didn't want 

to waste it yet."



"Huh?" Mark asked innocently.



"His 'come' dummy. Once a guy shoots his 'come' he sort of 

looses interest for a while," Adrian answered as he began to enjoy 

his position of tutor. "Well I wanted to start doing the same things 

back to him. He made me feel so good. I,... I wanted him to feel 

the same way too. I wasn't that keen on sucking his dick at 

first,..."



"You did that?" Mark said incredulously. "You did that to 

him?"



"Sure. It tastes salty and it smells funny, a bit like pee I 

guess, but it's okay. First I just kind of licked and kissed around 

the outside. Then when I got used to that I started putting the tip 

of it in my mouth. The skin on his cock is really kind of soft 

though not as soft as yours or mine, and it's really hot. Paul told 

me what I had to do to do it properly. It took a while but I started 

to really enjoy it. I got it about halfway in. That's about all I 

could and then it was in the back of my mouth, then I had to stop. 

You have to move your head up and down, like this," Adrian 

demonstrated by rocking his head rhythmically, "So it goes in an' 

out. I did that for a while until he made me stop for a minute and 

then I started back doing it again. I did it for a bit more but my 

neck was getting tired so I started to slow down. Paul kind of took 

over from me and started moving his hips instead. Only he was doing 

it really fast and pushing my head down on his cock. I started 

getting scared because I was afraid he was going to hurt me. I think 

it even went back into my throat a bit sometimes because then I 

couldn't breath. I knew something was going to happen when Paul 

started to groan. He was going incredibly fast by then." Adrian 

grinned cheekily, "You would have thought I knew what to 

expect,..." he said and then added proudly, "He did it in my mouth. 

Well most of it anyway, 'cause I choked on it and he pulled it out 

before I threw up."



Mark's mouth was wide open as he looked as Adrian dumbly, 

"Huh? But!,.... Well,... what did he do in your mouth?"



"Jesus! Mark! His 'come' you idiot! He put his sperm in me,... 

in my mouth."



"Shit,... but that's,... that's gross. I,... I don't believe 

you," Mark said resolutely, refusing to believe that such things 

could happen.



Adrian laughed, "Yeah! No shit Mark. I thought it was gross 

too,... the first time anyway. I guess most of it went down my 

throat anyway before I knew what was going down. I think that's 

what started me choking. Then I tasted it and I thought I was going 

to throw up on him. But you know, really it isn't as gross as you 

think. The next time I swallowed most of it. It tastes funny, it's 

not nasty, really it's not. Just salty and thick. I don't exactly 

like the taste but, well,... it's not that bad. So I guess I'm an 

okay cocksucker. Paul says I'm great at it, but he's pretty 

biased."



'Cocksucker' was one of those words that Mark had heard at 

school. It was one of the words eleven-year-old boys use in the 

playground or with their friends. It was one of the words whose 

meaning he didn't understand, hadn't understood until now. The idea 

was intriguing and it captivated his imagination as he thought 

about it. Not the part about 'come' in his mouth, that was still 

'gross'. He looked down at Adrian's penis and conjured up images, 

inventing the taste and feeling of the small, still rigid cock in 

his fertile imagination. Then the picture changed and the cock was 

so much bigger than his own that he could barely fit it into his 

mouth. It was hairy and it pushed into his throat. He swallowed and 

gulped down the fantasy as the word 'gross' rocketed back and forth 

in his mind. Then there was another word that formed in his mind, 

another word that boys his age used not only with some frequency, 

but a great deal of caution. "Then what happened, Adrian?" he asked 

weakly.



   "Well,..." Adrian began. He stopped and smiled,looking at 

his friend gently as he wondered whether he could trust him. For 

some time now he had wondered whether Mark was the same way. He 

closed his eyes and breathed out. "Well it was way past midnight 

by then so we didn't do anything else. He didn't get out of my bed 

until early in the morning and then he let me sleep until about ten 

o'clock.... But that isn't what you want to know is it Mark?" he 

asked raising his eyebrows, "You want to know about the other thing 

don't you? About how my uncle fucked me?"



Mark nodded and swallowed nervously. "Mark, you've got to 

promise never to tell anyone. Not your dad, not anyone, okay?" 

Adrian said seriously. Mark nodded again, recklessly, urgently, 

feeling a strangeness in his belly. It was a feeling exactly like 

'butterflies'. "He fucked me Mark, not once but a whole lot of 

times, okay. He did it because I liked it. If anyone finds out 

I'll,... he'll,... we'll both be in deep shit."



"Yeah, I guess. Adrian I promise," Mark said quietly.



"I trust you Mark. Okay?" Adrian breathed out. He was breaking 

his promise to his uncle but he knew that he had to share his secret 

with Mark. "...The next day he was really different. He was nice, 

nicer than he'd ever been before. It was Sunday so he didn't work 

that day. We went out for breakfast to Shoney's and when we got 

back he took me down to the barn and showed me how to drive the 

tractor. He sat up in the cabin next to me and I drove it all over 

the farm. I must have used a ton of gas. When we went swimming he 

told me I could go in skinny-dipping if I wanted, like he did when 

he was a boy my age. I said I wouldn't by myself so he stripped off 

too and we both went in. We wrestled a lot and we both got hard-

ons but nothing else happened. Then for dinner we had pizza and we 

went in the living room and watched "The Return of the Jedi" on TV. 

We lay on the couch together. I was in front of Paul and he hugged 

me and kissed me and kept playing with my butt. He was rubbing it 

through my shorts and he kept trying to get his fingers into my 

crack by going down the back or up the legs of my shorts. All I 

could think off was what he did to me with his finger in my hole 

the first time. By the time the movie was about half over I couldn't 

stand it any more."



"So what did you do?" Mark asked curiously. He was no longer 

able to camouflage his fascination.



Adrian smirked, "I stood up and took all my clothes off. It 

was right in the middle of the scene where they're fighting it out 

on the spaceship with those sword lasers but I can tell you what 

Paul was watching, 'n it sure wasn't the movie. I was ready to lie 

down again when Paul asked me to run into the bathroom and get a 

little jar of Vaseline from the medicine cabinet."



"Why? I mean why Vaseline?" Mark asked ignorantly.



"For me, you numskull," Adrian giggled.



"But why? Were your lips sore or something?" Mark persisted.



"Jesus! Mark, don't be a moron. Don't you know anything?" 

Adrian teased as he delighted in exercising his own very recent 

enlightenment. "For my butt, it's sort of dry back there. You need 

something to lubricate it,... to make it slippery enough," he 

added.



"Oh!.... Ohhh!" Mark blushed as he suddenly comprehended.



"What did you think it was for, Mark. Stop being a dummy and 

be patient. I tell you everything you want to know. Well, when I 

lay back down on the couch I knew I was going to miss most of the 

movie,... but heck I've seen it over here about six times, so I 

didn't really care. As soon as I was back on the couch Paul took 

over. He put a whole lot of the Vaseline in my crack and started 

working it into my butt hole with his finger. He sort of pushed it 

in and out of my hole while I pulled my butt cheeks as open as I 

could. When he had enough in me he started using his finger like 

he did the first time. Only this time he started right out by going 

all the way in and out. You wouldn't believe how good it felt Mark. 

It was better than before because I was much more slippery inside, 

and I wasn't as scared either because I knew what to expect. He did 

that to me for a long while. He was gentle and pretty slow at first 

until I loosened up back there. It hurt a bit at first, but not 

real bad. It was just kind of sore but it felt good too."



"Loosened up?" Mark asked, "Ohh! Sorry Ad' I didn't mean to 

interrupt. But why does it hurt?"



"That's okay. When you first start it's really tight inside. 

Well your hole is tight anyway, that's because there's a muscle 

inside that closes up. Paul said my hole was pretty small and I was 

really tight because I was a still a young kid and I'm not that 

big. If I tried to have sex like that the pain would kill me and 

I'd get torn up inside. But after he had been using his finger in 

me for about ten minutes I could feel it getting looser. I mean you 

can really feel it. It gets sort of spongier inside you and it 

doesn't hurt at all after that." Adrian smiled smugly and then 

added, "In fact, that's when you start feeling cool and you don't 

want it to ever stop. I have to go pee in a minute," he said 

changing the topic.



"You wanna go now?" Mark asked.



"Nah, I can wait a few minutes. So where was I? Oh yeah! Okay! 

Well, then Paul put two fingers up me,...like this," he said 

holding up his first two fingers placed closely together. The tip 

of the first finger was tightly snuggled into the boy's second 

finger to make a point. "You gotta get it stretched wide open before 

you do it, Mark. We did it like that right up to the end of the 

movie. I guess maybe 'bout an hour. By then it got kind of messy 

in my butt. Paul had to get my tee-shirt and put it under my butt 

so I didn't make stains on the couch."



"Huh? Does poop come out or something?" Mark asked. His 

curiosity was unquenched and he no longer thought of it as 'gross'.



Adrian smiled patiently. "You try not to poop on him. 

Sometimes you can't help it, but it usually doesn't come out. What 

comes out mostly is this kind of gooey yellowish juice. It's a bit 

smelly, but not like poop really. Paul said it was mucus from inside 

my gut. It's what lubricates your intestines so the food you eat 

goes through you. I guess some of it drains down into your butt. 

So where was I... Okay so when the movie ended Paul lifted me up 

and carried me into his bedroom. He took his clothes off and went 

back and got the Vaseline. I watched him while he covered his cock 

with it. He put a lot on because it was my first time and 

everything.... Mark,..." Adrian swallowed as he remembered what 

happened. His eyes were half-closed as each sound and every feeling 

branded into his mind was replayed. "Mark, then,... then he fucked 

me?"



"Huh? How? I,... I mean what did he do?" Mark gasped out.



"He put his cock inside my butt. He did it just a little bit 

at a time. It really didn't hurt much at all after he got the first 

bit inside me. His cock is so big, well compared to mine, or yours, 

it is. At first it felt horrible, like he driving a spike inside 

me but once the head was in, the rest of it went in kind of easy. 

It sort of slides in. You have to go slow because your body has to 

adjust to having it there. But it didn't take more than a few 

minutes and he was all the way in me. Mark,... his cock is about 

as long as my forearm,... but not quite as long,... that's about 

eight inches. I measured his cock once, it's around seven inches 

long when it's real stiff. And it's thick, about like my wrist,... 

and it fitted in me. Well not quite all of it at the start, but 

most of it. When he stopped I felt I was gonna explode. I was 

shaking like jelly and I was sweating like crazy. I felt like I was 

ready to burst or something. I couldn't move by myself. I felt like 

I was joined to him. It felt just like I was part of my uncle, part 

of his cock really. When he started actually fucking me he moved 

so gently you wouldn't believe it. He started by rocking his hips 

a little bit and stopping when I wanted him to. When he pushed it 

in it felt like he was gonna come out my belly and when he pulled 

it back I felt like he took half of me with him."



"Didn't it hurt but?" Mark asked.



"Yeah, it hurts kind of, but it's not a bad pain. It's hard 

to explain. You feel something growing bigger and bigger and you 

can't stop it. If he stops moving or pulls it back, even for a few 

seconds, you get angry and want him to start again or push it back 

up. But as soon as he starts again you want him to stop after a few 

seconds. I kept on saying stupid things like I was delirious or 

hysterical or something like that. It only took a few minutes and 

then he was done. That was because I was so tight inside I think, 

and he'd been saving it the whole way through the movie. I even 

think I felt his 'come' spurting. It was like something burst open 

and flooded inside me. It was really hot too."



Mark looked at his best friend jealously as he tried to 

imagine the feelings that were so foreign to him, "Then what,...?" 

he mumbled.



Adrian contemplated his friend and smiled slowly, "You know, 

I don't remember, Mark. I think I fell asleep as soon as he 

finished. Maybe I fainted, I don't know," he said honestly. He 

paused and stretched out his legs. "Paul said I might have fainted 

because I had an orgasm. Right at the end, just before Paul did his 

'come' in me, I thought I was gonna die, Mark. I was really loose 

inside by then and he was going pretty fast. It just kept on getting 

better and better until I thought I was dying. Right at the end, 

when I felt his 'come' spurting out, I got this truly weird feeling 

all over and I started shaking. All I can remember is that I was 

shaking and crying. I can't remember anything at all after that."



"But what happened after that, Adrian? Like the next day and 

all," Mark asked shamelessly. "You said you did it again,... a lot 

more times?"



"Yeah! We did it again the next morning, almost as soon as I 

woke up. It hurt a bit more that time. That was probably because I 

was sore from my first fuck, Paul said. I spent most of the morning 

in bed while Paul was at work. Then in the afternoon, after he came 

back for lunch, we moved my clothes and stuff into my uncle's 

bedroom. I slept in there with him from then on. We did it mostly 

at night. Once, or twice every night. A couple of times we did it 

three times before we fell asleep. In the mornings he had to go to 

work earlier and I was pretty sleepy still so we didn't usually do 

it then. We did it a few times though. When we went swimming we did 

it then sometimes too. He even fucked me in the barn a few times. 

I guess we did it a lot. After the first few days it stopped hurting 

altogether, except when I had to poop," Adrian grinned playfully. 

"My butt-hole got kind of bruised from doing so much. You want to 

see," he asked.



"Huh?" Mark said, "Yeah, I guess. But why does it get 

bruised?"



Adrian lifted his legs upward, curling up so that his feet 

were at his shoulders and his knees were apart. He spread his cheeks 

wide open and supported his buttocks on his hands, "See! I guess 

it's because his cock is so big."



Mark sat up and leaned forward as he peered into the other 

boy's crevice. The was a darkened purplish ring around his anus. 

The lips were slightly puffed up and were no longer puckered like 

Mark's. The little orifice was still swollen from two weeks of 

abuse. "Does it hurt still? It looks kind of sore."



"No. It really didn't hurt much at the time either. We 

probably did it too much at first, Paul said. The bruises will go 

away in a week or two he reckoned." 



Adrian straightened back out on the bed and Mark lay back down 

next to his friend. He was confused and he was jealous. Silently 

he looked at Adrian's pale slender body and compared it to his own. 

Try as he could, Mark couldn't help wondering why he couldn't have 

been Adrian. He was excited in a strange new way. The new 

information challenged him, teased him and drew him forward. It was 

irresistible. "Did it really feel good?" he asked at last.



Adrian nodded, "Mark, I never felt so incredible. Every time 

we did it I think it got even better."



Mark looked away sadly. Slowly he turned to Adrian, "You gonna 

do it again with him, aren't you?" he asked.



Adrian shrugged, "Yeah. I guess when he comes down at 

Thanksgiving. I'm going to ask mom if he can sleep in my room,... 

in the other bed, of course. She'd die if she found out he'd done 

that stuff with me. Paul says there are men around who like boys,... 

like to have sex with boys like us that is. But it's against the 

law, that's why you can't tell."



Mark nodded, suddenly wondering who and where these men were. 

He pushed the thought out of his mind. "Ad',...do you wanna do.... 

that stuff with me?" he asked hesitantly. He was strangely afraid 

of the other boy's answer.



Adrian grinned. His suspicions had been confirmed in that 

single question. "Yeah,... Yeah I s'pose so, but...."



"But what?" Mark asked nervously.



"Well,..." Adrian said playfully, "I mean look at us, your 

dick is smaller than Paul's little finger, and mine's about the 

size of his thumb. So what good's it gonna do us?"



"Oh!", Mark said despondently. His desire deflated quickly as 

Adrian started to laugh. "What's up?" Mark asked angrily.



"Nothing dummy,... only,... you don't have to have,... a big 

dick," the other boy laughed.



"Huh? Bbbbut,... wwwwell you made it ssssound like,... 

well,..." Mark stammered.



"You don't even have to have a dick to do it," Adrian 

continued.



"Huh?"



"When we were out in the tractor one day," Adrian smirked 

knowingly, "Paul showed me how to do it with something else besides 

his big hairy dick." Mark looked up curiously. "Having a dick, a 

big dick helps of course. It's a bunch more fun. But he made me do 

it with some corn. It's called corn-holing. A lot of farm kids do 

it."



Mark started to giggle, "You're bulling me. With corn?"



"No shit! It's about as big as man's dick, and stiffer too, 

so you got go carefully. It goes in easier because it's pointed 

more," Adrian grinned.



"You did that?" Mark asked. Adrian nodded. Mark smiled slowly, 

then broadened into a grin, "I think there's corn in the fridge," 

he said.



"That'll be way too cold! It's got to be warmed up first, like 

in the sun," Adrian said expertly, then added, "You gotta use a 

heap of Vaseline too."



"Mark, I'm home," Mark's father shouted out from the bottom 

of the stairs.



Mark jumped as though a bee had stung him, "Shit! It's my dad!" 

he glanced at his watch. "Shit! Ad' he's home early," he whispered.



"I,... I'm upstairs Dad,... with Adrian,... we'll be right 

down," Mark shouted as he leaped up from the bed and began tugging 

up his shorts and underpants furiously. It took the boys only 

seconds to rearrange their clothes and then they started 

downstairs.



"Hi guys," John Gordon beamed at the two boys as they can down, 

taking the steps two at a time and shrieking as only eleven-year-

old boys can.



"Hi Dad," Mark said, "You're home early?"



"Hi Doctor Gordon," Adrian said, hanging back a few feet and 

looking at Mark's handsome father almost shyly.



"Hi Adrian. Yeah, I guess I am. I thought we'd go out and see 

a movie, Jurassic Park, maybe, then get a pizza or something for 

dinner. You too Adrian. I didn't think you were getting back until 

tomorrow afternoon. Mark's been bored without you. I bet you've had 

an exciting few weeks."



"Yeah, I'd love to come. I had a great time. It was 'cool'. I 

was pretty busy. My uncle and I did lot's of new things. I even 

drove the tractor," Adrian said. The two boys looked at each other 

and shared a knowing smile.



John grinned, "Great. Well if you want to go out to dinner, 

you guys'll have to put on socks and shoes, and comb your hair, 

okay? I'll call your mom from the study and let her know the plan," 

he laughed as he walked through the door into the next room. The 

two boys turned and raced back up the stairs. Their long discussion 

and their sex play was almost forgotten, replaced by more innocent 

pursuits. But inside each boy the memories lingered. For Adrian, 

the memories were clear and insistent, but for Mark, the ideas, the 

thoughts and the desire that had long resided within him had, at 

last, been germinated. Now it was a matter of time until his long-

repressed desire blossomed.



                        +++++



Chapter 2. True Nature.



That night, after they had dropped Adrian off at his house, 

Mark kissed his father goodnight and went up to his bedroom. 

Normally he showered in the morning but this night was an 

exception. All through the movie, all through dinner, Adrian's 

words had gnawed at him. Despite his best efforts to concentrate 

on the movie his thoughts had strayed. Secure in the privacy of his 

own mind Mark had tried to imagine the feel of a man's penis, the 

taste of his 'come' and the touch of their bodies together. But 

mostly Mark's thoughts were one just one thing, the feelings he 

would have from a man's penis when it was inserted into his rectum. 

Mark knew all, or most of the words, in their biological context. 

After all his father was a doctor, but he had no idea of the 

feelings that accompanied the words. Adrian had experienced those 

feelings and Mark decided during dinner, somewhere between his 

second and third slice of pizza, that he was not going to be far 

behind.



That night the boy closed the door to his bedroom and went 

into the bathroom. He stripped of his clothes as he went and dropped 

them on the floor carelessly. By the time he reached the bathroom 

he was naked except for his white Fruit-of-the-Loom underpants. 

Usually he showered with the bathroom door open. It was his 

bathroom, after all. But tonight he closed it. Tonight, if his 

father came up to say goodnight before he was out of the shower, 

Mark would need the warning of a few precious seconds. He slid his 

underpants down and tossed them onto the door handle. His little 

penis was already quite stiff and it protruded rudely outwards. It 

quickly hardened the last little bit so that it stood up and 

parallel to his body, pointing upward to his face. Instinctively 

he flexed the muscle that made it bob up and slap lightly against 

his lower belly.



He turned on the water in the shower and went over to the 

medicine cabinet above the vanity. Eleven-year-old boys usually 

don't have a need for medicines, and Vaseline was normally stocked 

in the downstairs bathroom. There was an extra tube of toothpaste 

and not much more. Certainly nothing that had the very important 

property of being a lubricant. "Shit!" Mark said angrily as he 

looked at the slender body of the now-naked boy reflected back at 

him in the mirror. He could run downstairs like this and he knew 

that his father wouldn't mind. He did it lots of times, but not to 

get some Vaseline. He would have to get dressed and then go down. 

He would have to sneak some into his pocket, even the whole jar. 

Mark thought for a second, remembering Adrian's words about the 

need to use something slippery because it was "dry back 

there,...you need something to lubricate it,... to make it slippery 

enough.". Then his anger faded as he saw the soap. It would be both 

slippery and wet and it was probably dirty back there anyway, he 

thought.



Mark stepped into shower. For a few moments he stood directly 

under the steaming water as it streamed down. Then he directed the 

shower head away into the corner so that only the occasional stray 

droplets landed on him. He began to soap his body, working up a 

rich creamy lather on his arms and shoulders. His small hands slid 

up and down his narrow chest and waist and then he reached for his 

groin, rubbing the soap around his already excited genitals. He 

could feel the smooth hardness of his penis as it pressed back 

against the soap. He was warm and slippery and his smooth body was 

as soft as silk. His tiny dark nipples hardened instantly into 

little pointed dots as his hand moved back over his chest, then 

back downward to sweep around and around his throbbing cock, 

swishing his balls back and forth so that they bounced against his 

legs.



He sighed loudly, unable to believe that his body could feel 

so wonderful. He tingled all over but there was aconstant glowing, 

throbbing, and aching in his penis until the boy could barely stand 

it. His hand returned guiltily, again and again. He concentrated 

his attention on the swollen little bulb of the head. The foreskin 

was retracted back, leaving tiny folds of sensitive skin bunched 

up behind it. His little-boy testicles were hanging loosely in the 

relaxed delicate folds of his scrotum, swaying and bumping slightly 

against the boy's slender thighs as his hips moved rhythmically. 

He closed his eyes as he imagined a mouth was on his penis. Then 

the mouth moved forward and over it, enclosing and pulling on it, 

sucking him in. There were fingers other than his own squeezing on 

his balls. He tried to simulate what Adrian had felt, still moving 

his hips by rocking them back and forth and pressing his soap 

covered body up against the shower wall as he massaged his rigid 

penis into the tiles. He felt as slippery as an eel and very much 

alive. Mark whimpered quietly as his body demanded even more of 

him.



Then finally, unable to hold back, Mark placed both of his 

hands on his buttocks and pulled his cheeks wide apart to open his 

crack. His hands were covered in soap and the rubbery flesh was 

hard to grasp.As his fingers stroked into the depth of his crack, 

he felt warm and happy, very happy. For the first time in his eleven 

years he was aware of the sensations that seemed to gush forth from 

his anus. Until then, that part of his body had been no more than 

a tiny puckered hole that he washed each morning to keep himself 

clean and healthy, the part that he'd wiped with toilet paper, that 

he'd never thought about as being enjoyable.



What began as a gentle soft rubbing gradually became harder 

and faster. His tight anus opened slowly of its own accord with the 

soap and warmth and gentle stimulation so that his forefinger 

popped inside. It was hot, hotter than he'd ever expected. And it 

was soft inside too. It felt spongy until his finger twisted 

slightly and touched the smooth velvety walls of his rectum. Then 

meeting the firm resistance of young muscle, he pushed down deeper. 

It felt nice the boy decided as his finger squirmed almost without 

guidance from him. It was as if it knew what to do, sinking deeper 

until it was past the second joint. It felt tight inside as his 

sphincter sent powerful closing contractions and squeezed on the 

little intruder as it tried to resist it's entry. Mark wondered how 

a man's huge penis could ever fit inside him. The passage seemed 

barely large enough to accommodate his slender, small finger. Then 

he remembered Adrian saying that his uncle had done this to him for 

a long while, an hour or more. That was the time that Adrian's uncle 

had,... the time.... Mark closed his eyes and tried to blot out his 

recollection of Adrian's words. With all of his mind he tried to 

pretend that it hadn't happened and that Adrian was still a virgin 

and innocent like himself.



 Then the boy's thoughts changed and the finger was a man's 

finger demanding entry into him. It felt good but not like Adrian 

had described. Still Mark's breathing became heavy and he trembled 

as he investigated the new feelings, until for no reason his finger 

was in very deep and it pushed back up towards his belly.



"Ohhhh Shit!" Mark swore as his legs nearly gave way under 

him. He had to balance himself against the wall of the shower to 

avoid falling down to the floor. For a moment he couldn't believe 

that the weird surge of pressure he'd felt had actually come from 

inside him. 



He probed cautiously and tested the spot again as he tried to 

repeat the intense sensations. A little to the other side, "Oh,.... 

Yeah!" he breathed out quickly. He leaned back and braced himself 

against the side of the shower before he collapsed. Mark waited a 

moment, took a deep breath, then probed again. This time he knew 

where the spot was. "Oh! Oh God!" he gasped as his heart jumped in 

ecstasy. He did it again, and then again. He began to stroke his 

finger up and down all the time pushing hard into his belly. Within 

a few seconds he discovered that if he strained downwards and 

tightened the muscles in his belly, thighs, and deep inside his 

body it quickly became even more incredible. The boy didn't know 

that he was forcing his immature prostate against his finger. All 

he knew was that he had never felt so good in his entire life.



And then he understood what Adrian had been saying. He knew 

why Adrian had liked it and why he'd done it again and again, until 

his body was bruised and sore. Mark stopped. His hand was shaking 

uncontrollably. He eased his finger outward until the tip was 

barely inside him and he breathed deeply. Adrian's uncle had used 

two fingers. Slowly he placed his fingers side by side, took 

another deep breath and squeezed them forward as he forced them 

upward and into his little anus. This time the entry was stopped, 

but only momentarily as he pushed harder. One finger and then the 

other slid inside. His inward progress was stopped only when his 

knuckles were hard against his crack.



Mark paused. He was breathing quickly now with little gasps, 

panting like a dog on a hot summer's day. It felt different. It 

felt a whole lot bigger than one finger by itself. It was much 

harder to wriggle his finger or to press into his 'special' spot, 

although he liked it just as much he decided quickly. With the added 

finger it rubbed and squeezed more on the sensitive rim of his anus. 

His young body glowed with a fire that once started, had quickly 

spread outward from the little opening until it consumed his entire 

body. Now his spine tingled as his body focused on the feelings 

that arose inside his tight rectum and he twitched and writhed 

uncontrollably as they flowed over him. Occasional spasms tortured 

his young body. Like cramps they tightened on his fingers until he 

was throbbing inside. It was as if he could feel the pulsing of 

every tiny artery within his body.



When he could stand the delicious agony no longer he withdrew 

one finger and used the other to knead his 'special spot'. He pumped 

the finger for as long and as hard as he dared. Adrian's description 

of something growing inside and getting bigger and stronger was 

remarkably accurate. Like Adrian, Mark found that he wanted to 

stop. But as soon as he did stop he was desperate to start again 

and then he was unable to go for more than a few seconds.



It was frightening, slightly painful, and incredible 

wonderful, all at the same time. He glanced down. Most of the soap 

had washed away and his penis limp. The little appendage had 

retracted slightly into his body and his testicles had tightened 

into a little firm, and very taut lump below. He became aware that 

his knees were shaking uncontrollably. There seemed to be nothing 

that he could do to regain control of his body.



Mark lost all sense of time. He was unable to stop. His mind 

drifted aimlessly from one vague, unfocused image to another as he 

was overpowered by the intense feelings that surged up into his 

body. Then finally, after what seemed an eternity but in reality 

was not much more than ten minutes, Mark found the energy to break 

through the barrier that had always stopped him. Each time as he 

rubbed faster and harder it had left him trembling and writhing and 

barely able to stand. But each time he had stopped just short of 

the prize that he sensed lay ahead. He knew that something even 

more wonderful awaited him if only he could continue just a little 

while longer. He started doing it faster and faster, pumping his 

finger desperately into the 'special' spot inside him. He used all 

of the strength that remained to him to squeeze down on his plunging 

finger. He groaned. He wanted only for it to end,... to go on 

forever.



Mark started to tremble as he felt a cry bursting out of his 

throat. Something seemed to burst inside his belly and he 

convulsed. He shuddered violently and fell heavily to the floor. 

His head knocked slightly against the tiled wall and he lay dazed 

and frightened. Unknown to the boy, pale, almost clear urine 

trickled out of the tiny puckered end of his penis as his bladder 

emptied.







"Mark,... Mark,... Are you okay in there?" his father called 

out as he knocked loudly at the door. The door opened and the man 

moved into the bathroom swiftly. "Mark, son, are you okay?"



The boy looked up at his father dumbly, "Huh?" he mumbled as 

his consciousness returned. Mark shook his head and then remembered 

what he had been doing just moments earlier. "Huh? 'Fell down. 

'Think I slipped on the soap, Dad. I hit my head too. 'Think I'm 

okay,..."



John went to the shower and reached in over the boy's head and 

turned off the water. The thundering roar in Mark's ears stopped. 

The boy tilted his head back and looked up at his father as he tried 

to focus his thoughts. He remembered again, his hand, his right 

hand, his forefinger, his forefinger had been inside his bottom. 

Something inside his body felt as though it had exploded. He lifted 

his hand up and inspected it in slow motion. There was no sign, no 

sign at all of what he'd done. His father reached down. His father's 

strong hands grasped his and lifted him upwards. Mark's legs were 

strangely weak and he tottered, almost falling to the floor again. 

Again he was lifted up and out of the shower. Mark braced himself 

against the vanity as his father toweled him dry gently, like a 

little baby. Both father and son were oblivious to the young boy's 

nakedness. His father dried his son's little-boy genitals with a 

soft fluffing motion and gave a playful swipe at the boy's 

buttocks, not realizing that the boy's crack concealed a now-very-

loose little hole in it's center. Then John lifted him up and 

carried seventy-seven pounds of naked boy back into the bedroom. 

He deposited the boy in the soft warmth of his bed and straightened 

the slender smooth limbs. John lifted the sheet up and over the 

naked little body and then sat down beside his son to rub his 

slender back through the sheets until the boy dozed off.



Then John went over to the wall, switched off the lights and 

came back to the bed. He stood for long minutes, looking down at 

the tousled head of his sleeping son. He breathed slowly as he 

admired the slender form under the sheet, the graceful lithe curve 

of the bare brown arm, the perfect smooth skin, the small nose 

slightly upturned, the steady but barely visible rise and fall of 

the boy's chest. Finally he turned and tiptoed out, leaving the 

door open behind him.



As soon as he was outside the door to Mark's bedroom John 

stopped and leaned against the wall. His penis had become erect and 

it strained into his shorts as it became caught in his underpants. 

His penis throbbed with unbelievable rigidity. His body was flushed 

and he could feel the sweat building on his face. His heart was 

pounding inside his chest and the image of his naked son was 

flashing vividly in his mind. Time and time again his son's 

beautiful face came back to him and it was enough to frighten him. 

But what affected him more than anything else was his memory of the 

perfect child's body and the small, still-immature sex organs that 

adorned it. He could remember every detail, the little 

uncircumcised penis, the small taut knot of his scrotum, even the 

two tiny bulges of the boy's testicles in the little wrinkled 

pouch.



John closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of 

something else. He forced his mind to return to his work, to the 

paper he was soon to deliver in Boston, to the fun that he had that 

evening with Mark and Adrian. But again the memory returned. 

Increasingly he had begun to think of Mark in a way that disgusted 

him. He loved Mark. His son was the only thing of real importance 

in his life. He lived for Mark. His guilt grew until he was ashamed 

of his thoughts of Mark as a beautiful and very sexy young boy. He 

tried to avoid the inevitable conclusion that his own son aroused 

him. His own son produced a powerful attraction that went far 

beyond the accepted boundaries of a father-son relationship for 

what John had experienced as he carried the naked boy to his bed 

was purely physical. He felt an overwhelming guilt that was born 

of his excitement and the knowledge that haunted him.



For years, for long painful years, John had repressed the 

desires of his childhood and youth. Memories of the passion of he 

had known came back to him as he leaned against the wall outside 

his son's bedroom. The memories were painful flashbacks that were 

interspersed with thoughts of Mark. Mark naked. Mark masturbating. 

Mark sucking on his penis. Mark lying on his bed with his legs 

lifted back to his shoulders..... 



Breathing heavily, John walked down the hall and slowly 

descended the stairs. He had to get as far away as possible from 

Mark's bedroom, from his beautiful young son. By the time he 

reached his study he was shaking. His breathing had become erratic 

and his head was spinning with images of Mark and the boys of his 

own youth. They paled in comparison with Mark. He hadn't loved 

those boys.



John sat down in his chair and stared at the computer. He 

sighed, then rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in 

his hands. He needed relief. He needed Mark. "Oh God," he whispered 

as the thought welled up in his mind. He shook his head in 

disbelief. "No! Not Mark! God help me!," he said quietly as he shook 

his head again and again. His agony fed on itself. The more he tried 

to avoid his hunger the worse it became. It seemed to consume him. 

John fought to resist but the thoughts lured him onwards making him 

even more aroused. He had to relieve the pressure somehow. He 

surrendered and reached forward and switched on the computer. Long 

seconds passed as the machine booted up and then the login prompt 

appeared. He logged on as 'jgordon' and entered his password, 

'marco11'. Marco11, his son's name and age.



Almost half a minute passed as the computer initiated the 

array of programs that he might use normally for research or 

consulting. Finally he was able to change to his 'special' 

directory and he listed the contents. He was breathing quickly as 

he looked for one file in particular. Then he remembered that he 

had called it simply 'dylan', after the boy that the story was 

about. John began to read, scanning the first few pages quickly as 

it chronicled the growing infatuation of a man for a boy who was 

only one year older than Mark. His breathing slowed as he read. The 

man was not unlike himself. The story had been posted to the 

Internet only a month or two earlier. From the very first chapter 

the story had been unusual. It was emotional and it was painful. 

It captured the man's shame and self-loathing as the story 

unfolded. It was also a beautiful story that made John even more 

aware of the feelings, dangerous as they were, that he had for his 

own son.



His penis got harder and harder and he tried to resist the 

urge that he knew he could never stop. It had always been there. 

He had grown up like that. Although at first the desire had been 

only for older men, it had changed when he was seventeen. He tried 

to remember the little boy's name but he couldn't. It was so long 

ago, nearly twenty five years ago. A lifetime of pain. John shook 

his head and struggled back to the present. He paged through the 

story until he found what he wanted. It was a frank discussion about 

Dylan's emerging sexuality. He stopped reading quickly and began 

to study it carefully. It was so realistic that he could hear them 

speaking. It was a conversation that he wanted to have with Mark. 

He wondered again, as he many times over the last few years, whether 

his beautiful eleven year-old son was gay.



Unable to resist any longer, John stood up. He breathed deeply 

as he unfastened his belt and opened his zipper. He pushed his 

shorts and underpants down past his knees and sat down on the chair 

again. Freed of the constriction of clothes, his penis began its 

increase its insistent demands. He surrendered again. Slowly his 

fingers enclosed the hot hard shaft. His thumb looped over the 

glans and smeared the clear juice that had oozed out. His thumb 

circled around the head, then slowly, still reading, he began to 

masturbate.



The thought came from nowhere and it surprised him. For the 

first time he thought of his own son in Dylan's place. The idea was 

not disgusting to him. In fact, the more that he thought about it, 

the more it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. There 

was a vicarious pleasure in the idea of his own son discovering his 

sexuality with another man and exploring the feelings that came 

with loving. As he read, John knew that above all, he wanted his 

son to enjoy his beautiful young body without the fear and guilt 

that he had known when he was a boy growing up and finding that he 

was attracted to his own sex. But whether he would openly condone 

a relationship such as that described in the story he didn't know. 

It was complicated by the fact that the boy was still so young. If 

he was older, a teenager, it would be a different matter.



He began to rub faster as he pumped his hand up and down. His 

grasped his penis tightly and the glans flare out and become a deep 

purple color. His breathing became ragged and he could no longer 

concentrate on the story. His testicles began to tighten, squeezing 

again and again as his orgasm approached. John closed his eyes and 

began to fantasize about his son. He pretended that Mark was 

masturbating his own little penis as he sat beside him. The boy's 

head was thrown back, his long dark eyelashes fluttering, his 

slender neck arched. The boy was gasping and whimpering as he 

struggled for relief that was still dry and unfulfilling. He 

imagined his son's hand on his own penis. He could feel the silky 

softness of the small hand as it held his throbbing shaft and jerked 

relentlessly. His semen boiled up and spurted outward, splattering 

over his belly with drips flying onto the keyboard of his computer 

and as high as his chest. The last of it oozed out of the slit and 

dribbled down between his still moving hand and his now-softening 

penis. He breathed out. 



John continued to read, searching for the section of the story 

where the boy lost his virginity and found love. It was, John 

decided, a beautiful way for a boy to discover what it meant to be 

gay. It was the way he wanted for his own son, if he had a choice. 

Not that it had to happen in a sunny glade overlooking a pool but 

rather it would happen with kindness and love and caring. Above 

everything else, he wanted Mark to know love. It was too easy for 

a man to take advantage of a sensitive young boy like Mark. After 

his body had been plundered there had to be more than the pain and 

suffering that he had known at first. His son, any boy for that 

matter, had to get something back. There had to be more than mere 

friendship involved. Even at thirteen, love had been what he had 

wanted but love had been what Skip had been able or unwilling to 

give him. John closed his eyes and remembered what had happened to 

him nearly thirty years ago.





Chapter 3. Nearly Thirty Years Ago.



At thirteen, John Gordoni had yet to begin puberty. In fact, 

he was not even close to starting puberty, and like any boy who 

matures late, he was smaller, a lot smaller than other boys of his 

age. That problem was exacerbated by the fact that he was in an 

advanced placement class. Fourteen-year-old boys towered above 

him. His slender body was still devoid of hair and he spoke in a 

boy-soprano. He was unlike all of the other boys in his class and 

he was openly resented because he was brighter. For John, school 

was a collection of painful memories. Being at an all-boys Catholic 

school didn't help much either, though at least he did not have to 

endure the torment as the boys around him began to flirt and date 

girls.



At thirteen, John Gordini had little interest in girls, or 

boys for that matter. His entire life was his schoolwork. He was a 

straight-A student and never less than second in his class. He had 

few friends and certainly none that could be called 'close', or 

'best-friends'. His sexual explorations were practically 

nonexistent though in the months following his thirteenth birthday 

they slowly became more frequent. His penis was a barely noticed 

appendage between his legs and the few erections that he had 

experienced were accompanied by both shame and guilt. Although the 

stiffening of that part of his young body was accompanied by 

feelings that were pleasant, they were not enjoyable. His erections 

occurred only when he saw pictures of naked, or partially naked 

males. There was no one that the boy could talk to about his ever-

increasing confusion. His father would certainly never understand. 

But what was even worse was the fact that he had never confessed 

that his body was aroused that way. He knew he should, the 

alternative was Hell!



John grew up in a city neighborhood that was primarily of 

Italian descent. After the end of the Second World War, Italy had 

been chaotic with chronic shortages of food and just about 

everything else. America was the 'promised land' and both his 

mother and father had migrated to the U.S. from Venice. They met 

on the long boat voyage and were married within the first few months 

of arriving in their new home. John was first generation Italian-

American. He attended Mass with his mother and father every Sunday 

even before he was able to walk. Every Sunday until the time he 

left for college he silently prayed for forgiveness for all of his 

sins.



It was Father Pietro, who suggested that John join the 

recently formed boy scout troop being sponsored by the church. At 

first his father had argued against it but, as his mother put it, 

'it'll be good for him, perhaps he'll make some friends his own 

age'. 'But will it make him grow into a man?' his father had asked 

with a snide jeer at his son's masculinity. His mother had not 

answered that question but she had held out for her son. Finally 

his father had relented and John was inducted into the local scout 

troop.



The troop met every Wednesday evening in the church basement. 

Dressed smartly in his new uniform, it was a very proud, though 

nervous boy that attended the next meeting. The scoutmaster, Steven 

Brand (once Brandini), was affectionately called 'Skip' by the 

boys. On that first meeting Skip took John aside and talked about 

life in the scout troop. Right from the start John felt as though 

Skip liked him, but then, the feeling was mutual. Unlike his 

father, Skip seemed genuinely interested in him.



After John's first few weeks in the troop had passed, Skip 

started a program that would lead to self-defense badges for the 

boys. In the neighborhood where John lived, self-defense was 

becoming increasingly important. Basic judo throws and falls were 

covered over the next few weeks. John was paired with Paul, a twelve 

year-old boy. Paul was still somewhat bigger than John was despite 

the one year difference in their ages. Time and time again as they 

practiced on the mats John came off second best but every time he 

got up bravely and tried again. Again and again, the plucky 

youngster came back at the bigger, taller boy, only to hit the mat 

hard and sometimes painfully.



At nine o'clock on an early spring evening the meeting 

finished. As the boys dashed off, Skip asked John to stay and help 

to put away the mats. Eagerly, John agreed. More and more he had 

become aware of the fact that Skip liked him. Again and again he 

had looked at Skip only to discover that Skip was looking at him. 

Their eyes met and each time something seemed to pass between them. 

Each look was a look of recognition. As they carried the mats into 

the storeroom the looks were replaced by smiles. All but three of 

the mats were put away when Skip stopped for a break. He leaned 

back against the pile of mats they had already carried into the 

storeroom.



"Paul gave you a hard time tonight, didn't he?" Skip observed.



John nodded and shrugged. "He's a lot bigger than me. It's 

hard to stop him when he tries to throw me."



"You're thirteen, aren't you John?"



"Uh huh, last Thanksgiving. Paul's only twelve and he's still 

a lot bigger than me," the boy said resentfully.



Skip grinned. "Give it time. Anyway you're a lot smarter. Not 

just a year smarter either." The boy smiled shyly and looked down 

at his feet absently. "You have to use your brains to beat a bigger 

boy."



"Yeah! Sure," John said unconvinced. "I'm the smallest kid 

here."



Skip nodded. "You're also the smartest kid in the troop, John. 

So use your brains."



"Sure! And just how do I do that?" the boy retorted.



The man smiled and placed his arm around John's shoulders. The 

boy felt uncomfortable for a moment but he settled down quickly. 

His mother was always hugging and kissing him, but never his 

father. For an Italian, that was unusual in itself but John could 

not remember the last time when his father had even touched him. 

Mostly his father wasn't at home, and if he was then he was always 

too busy to spend time with his young son. It was always the 

'business'. John was lonely. Suddenly he realized that he liked 

having Skip's arm around his shoulders. He felt a pleasant warmth 

from the man's arm and a deep happy feeling. He wanted to be held 

and hugged by the tall dark-tanned man beside him but he didn't 

know what to do about it. Slowly he edged sideways, moving just an 

inch at a time until his body was against Skip's. The arm around 

his shoulders seemed to tighten and draw the teenager even closer. 

Now John could feel the warmth of the man's body sinking into his.



"Listen, John," Skip said gently. His voice was very quiet and 

controlled. "Next time when you're on the mats with Paul use your 

head. Get him to expect what you will do then surprise him."



"Yeah! Sure Skip! I'll still end up flat on my back," John 

smiled. "He's faster than I am. It's like he expects me to do 

something and he's waiting."



Skip squeezed the boy's shoulder playfully. "Maybe you have 

to fight dirty," he said quietly.



"Fight dirty? You mean,... down there," the boy whispered in 

shock. "I thought that was bad. Scouts aren't s'posed to fight like 

that."



Skip laughed, "That wasn't what I had in mind. Only cowards 

fight like that. Come on, I'll show you." He stood up and with his 

arm around the reluctant boy's shoulders, guided him back into the 

hall where the last three mats were still lying on the floor. "Now 

John, you come at me on this side. Okay?"



The boy rushed forward and Skip caught his wrist and spun the 

boy around, grabbed him by the waist and ended up with a playful 

hug. "Now that is what I mean by not using your brains. I expected 

you to come in high and on the right side so I was ready. Next time 

I want you to come in high again but drop down and swing to the 

left. As soon as I start turning, then you turn back and come in 

fast. Right?"



John nodded and tried to do as Skip asked. His first approach 

was awkward and Skip still managed to stop him. This time he held 

the boy around the chest with one arm and tickled him under the 

arms with his other hand. John burst into giggles and tried to pull 

away but Skip held him tightly. It was only when the boy was 

laughing wildly that Skip finally released him. John pulled away 

breathlessly. That nearly-minute of frenzied tickling had made him 

feel very strange. He had never been tickled before by a man and 

even his mother had not tickled him in ages. The boy recognized 

immediately that it was not the tickling that made him feel 'funny' 

but the fact that a man had been doing it. He looked at Skip as he 

tried to regain his composure. Skip smiled back and raised his 

eyebrows. It was a challenge, nothing more, nothing less.



John took a deep breath and rushed forward. This time he 

feinted to the left, ducked and swung back to the right. He sensed 

that the man was moving back to protect his flank and he swung back 

to the left with a perfect twist. He hit hard and fast as he clawed 

the man's hand, ducked down and went into a throw position. Ninety-

four pounds of aggressive boy was no match for a grown man and his 

attack was easily fended off but Skip had proven his point. He 

grabbed John and held him tightly, tickling under the boy's ribs 

until he giggled hysterically. John struggled fruitlessly but he 

had no desire to escape. Finally Skip lifted him right up into the 

air and, with his arms wrapped around the slender boy, swung him 

upside down. It served only to make John laugh even harder. Slowly 

Skip lowered John down onto the mat and he knelt down so that he 

half-straddled the young boy.



"Now," he smiled, "That's using your brains. If I was Paul you 

would have thrown me."



John grinned and wiped his eyes, smearing away tears of 

laughter. "Yeah! I guess. You weren't expecting me to do that were 

you."



Skip smiled back. "Not wrong kiddo. I was waiting for the left 

of course but you moved so fast."



John breathed heavily. He wanted to ask Skip to hold him some 

more. He wanted the man to hug him like before. He wanted Skip to 

stay exactly where he was, half over him. His hands clasped in 

childish frustration and he looked up into Skip's blue-green eyes. 

The man smiled at him gently. It was silent in the room but John 

could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Skip reached forward and 

his fingers brushed against the boy's cheek. John shivered with 

excitement, though he didn't realize that what he felt was 

excitement. He breathed deeply. He was unable to look away from the 

man's eyes. It was as if Skip was looking deep inside his mind.



"You're not only the smartest boy in the troop, John,... 

you're also the best looking," Skip whispered.



John blushed, suddenly aware that he had also been thinking 

how handsome Skip was. He liked the man's rugged face and the 

darkness on his face from the shadow of his beard. He liked the 

man's smell. It was a pleasant aroma of cologne. The desire for 

Skip to touch his body rose up inside the boy and overwhelmed him. 

Skip's fingers strayed to the boy's lips and lightly brushed 

against them. Without warning Skip stood up, leaving the boy lying 

alone on the mats. The man reached down, offered John a hand up and 

easily lifted the boy to his feet. At that moment there was chaos 

in John's head, a plethora of confused feelings and thoughts, the 

knowledge that it was wrong, that what he had been thinking was 

very, very bad. He stood before the man and tried to make sense of 

it. He felt terribly hot and his breathing had quickened until he 

was almost gasping. He wanted to lie back down on the mats with 

Skip. He didn't want to stop the strange feelings that surged 

through his body. Guiltily the boy realized that his little penis 

had become very, very hard. He knew that it had become hard only 

because of Skip.



"Skip?" John whispered nervously.



The man smiled gently and gently ruffled the boy's dark hair. 

The man didn't answer. He looked directly into the boy's eyes as 

if he was searching for something, for recognition. "Are you 

scared?" he asked the boy. John thought for a second and then 

nodded. His penis flexed instinctively, hungrily. The man smiled 

at the boy. "It's okay to be scared. Every boy is a bit scared the 

first time I think." John looked at the man hesitantly and 

swallowed nervously. Skip's hand dropped downward and caressed the 

boy's small ear and then his fingers moved behind the boy's neck 

and began twisting in the soft dark hair. "Do you want to go home 

now?" he asked. "You can if you want. Or you can stay here with me 

for a while?"



"You want me to stay with you so,... you can,... touch me?" 

the boy asked in reply. Skip nodded. "It's bad. I know it is. Boys 

will make fun of me. My mom and dad will kill me."



"Only if they find out, John. I'm not going to tell. Are you?"



John shook his head. "I'm scared. I,... I've nnnever felt 

ttthhis wwway before," he stammered nervously



Skip nodded. "You won't be scared for very long. I'm not going 

to hurt you. You trust me don't you?" John nodded. His resistance 

crumbled. He wanted the man to hug him again. He wanted to feel the 

man's powerful body pressed against him. He had no idea of where 

the desire came from but it filled his mind. He nodded slowly. 

Gently Skip drew John forward and pressed his lips against the 

boy's forehead. He kissed the boy and then eased him away. John 

quivered as he breathed heavily. Skip's hand dropped away and took 

hold of the boy's hand that was nearest to him. He caressed the 

slender fingers and rubbed his thumb into the boy's palm. Slowly 

he walked forward, pulling the boy with him into the storeroom. It 

was dark inside and he pushed the boy back until the mats were 

behind him.



John stood so close to the man that he could feel the man's 

chest press into his with each breath. The man released his hand 

and slowly moved it upwards over the boy's belly and chest. The 

fingertips stroked over the firm flesh as they traced the center-

line of the young body, pulling slightly at each shirt button. At 

the boy's neck they stopped, caressing the delicate bare skin for 

a moment before continuing upwards to his chin. Skip lifted the 

boy's head upward and kissed the smooth forehead again. "Do you 

mind if I take your pants off?" he whispered.



"Yeah! I guess it's okay," John answered shamefully.



The man's hand moved downwards again and fumbled at the boy's 

waist as his fingers unfastened the belt, the little plastic button 

and the zipper. Skip's hand paused, then after a few long seconds 

it slowly slid down into the soft warmth of the boy's underpants. 

John sighed and Skip's fingers brushed against the short, very 

excited shaft of his penis. He sighed again as the fingers moved 

lower, following the rigid little penis until they scooped into the 

little cloth-covered mound of the boy's testicles. He sighed again 

as the man's hand cupped his small sex organs and held him firmly. 

Skip's fingers were soothing. The man's hand was strong and yet it 

was also very gentle. John slowly relaxed, feeling his strength and 

resistance sucked out of him by the man's constantly moving hand. 

He closed his eyes and lost all sense of time. Except for the 

wonderful delight that surged out of his groin, John Gordini was 

oblivious to the world around him. 



Minutes later the boy realized that Skip had taken both his 

shorts and underpants down and the man's hand was now touching his 

bare flesh. He didn't care. The feelings that he had were so 

overpowering that the boy cared about nothing else. When Skip 

pushed him back onto the pile of mats he did not resist. When Skip 

finally pulled his shoes, shorts and underpants off he did not 

resist. When Skip bent forward over his half-naked body and kissed 

his lower belly and the inside of his thighs he did not resist. 

When Skip kissed, then licked, then sucked his small hard penis 

into his mouth, the boy arched his back and pushed up with his 

thighs to get even more inside. The heat flooded him as he was 

absorbed into the wet succulent mouth. Then Skip pushed his 

testicles forward with his fingers and sucked them into his mouth 

as well. It seemed to John as if his entire body was held inside 

the man's mouth and he wanted it to never end.



Long wonderful minutes passed as John discovered just how he 

was different he was to most other boys. They were unbelievable 

minutes as Skip introduced the young boy to the pleasures contained 

in his slender body. The boy writhed in shameless ecstasy as he 

abandoned his body to the man's expert handling. Within minutes he 

had started to buck wildly, jerking his hips upwards and pumping 

his little rigid penis as hard as he could into the man's mouth. 

That he enjoyed it so much seemed to make Skip happy as well. But 

the boy was still several years from being able to climax and 

achieve release so he eventually tired, unable to fulfill the 

desire that now dominated him. Then Skip took over and his head 

began to bob up and down rapidly. His teeth seemed to bite into the 

shaft of the boy's penis while his fingers massaged the little 

knotted pouch below. He went as fast as the boy wanted and then 

some, sucking the penis as hard as he could, so hard that it seemed 

to suck the life and energy out of the boy.



With only the tip of John's penis in his mouth, Skip began to 

nibble on the sensitive glans, working on the tiny cherry-red tip 

until the boy cried out for mercy. As soon as Skip pulled away John 

shook his head and reached down and pushed the man's head back 

again. The boy was breathing in irregular gasps as he thrust his 

thighs up and jammed his penis back where it now belonged. Skip 

needed no encouragement and expertly his hand slid underneath the 

boy's buttocks and followed the little scrotum back into the boy's 

crack. His finger found the small tight anus and he began to rub 

gently. Seconds later, John's body convulsed and the thirteen-year-

old boy had his very first orgasm, albeit dry and more than a little 

bit painful.



The Wednesday evenings that followed that night became John's 

favorite times. Each time Skip went a bit further and John was 

always an eager pupil. Within a few weeks he was readily removing 

all of his clothes and lying on the pile of mats in the storeroom 

while Skip applied his expert skills to the delight of the young 

body. Sometimes he stayed at the hall after nine o'clock on the 

pretext of practicing an activity like tying knots. At other times 

he was given the duty of cleaning up, the punishment for a 

fabricated charge that he had misbehaved during the evening. More 

often than not he left with the other boys but after a half block 

or more turned back and unnoticed, returned to the basement.



After slightly more than a month had passed the urge to see 

Skip's body was more than he could stand and John invited the man 

to join him. That night Skip drove him to the building in which he 

lived. John walked in the door at a few minutes past ten o'clock. 

He was a very different boy to the still-somewhat-innocent boy that 

had departed only a few hours earlier that evening. He lied 

expertly as he told his mother that he had been practicing knots 

again. It was something that he had to do to get his next badge. 

After a goodnight kiss the thirteen-year-old boy went up to his 

bedroom, undressed and pulled on his pajamas. He dropped down into 

the security of his bed and remembered everything that had happened 

during the last hour of his life. He slid his hand under his pajama 

top and tried to see if he could still feel the stickiness of the 

man's semen. On the mats he had been covered with it, from his 

thighs to his shoulders.



When John had suggested that it wasn't fair that only he was 

naked, Skip had readily agreed. John had looked at the man with 

fascination as he undressed, then in utter disbelief as he realized 

that the man's penis was huge. It was so much bigger than his own 

small erection that the boy was frightened. He was also excited, 

more excited than he had ever been. He touched it tentatively at 

first. It didn't bite but it certainly felt hot and hard. It had a 

power and strength that his own little penis lacked. It was a man's 

penis and at first John was jealous. When Skip lay down on the mats 

next to him and their genitals were pressed together, John's 

jealousy faded. They rubbed their naked bodies together, writhing 

in delight as they tumbled and twisted against each other.



Then Skip had placed John above him so that the man's huge 

erect penis pushed into the soft smooth skin of the boy's belly. 

With his thumbs on the John's hips and his fingers pressing into 

the warmth of the small deep crack, he began to move the boy's body. 

The rhythm came naturally and within minutes John was humping hard 

and fast against the man, his motions guided only by the man's 

finger that was now halfway inside his little anus. Several times 

Skip stopped him and made him wait until his imminent orgasm 

passed. Finally, Skip didn't stop him and John kept on, enjoying 

the delicious warmth of the man until his body arched up and he 

lifted the naked boy up into the air. The semen seemed to spurt out 

endlessly. At first the boy was shocked and his instinct made him 

try to pull away but Skip held him tightly by the hips and continued 

to jerk the small body up and down against his throbbing cock. The 

white-hot fluid seemed slippery as it covered the boy's bare chest 

and belly. John closed his eyes and began to enjoy the lubricity 

of their two bodies, sliding back and forth in it and no longer 

caring that the man's semen was all over him.



That night marked the change in John's relationship with Skip 

and for the first time the boy began to understand what it meant 

to be homosexual. Every night from then on as he masturbated alone 

in his bed he dreamed of Skip. He wanted to be with Skip, he wanted 

only to be loved in the way that he needed. Every Wednesday evening 

the boy became even more aroused and he willingly participated with 

Skip in discovering the pleasures of their bodies.



Chapter 4. The Pleasures of Their Bodies



The next morning Mark awoke and found to his surprise that he 

had slept in the nude. He stretched out in his bed as the first 

light of the day came through his window and enjoyed the sybaritic 

pleasure of coolness of the sheets against his bare smooth skin. 

He winced suddenly as he felt a raw ache inside his body. As he 

became more aware, the ache changed to a strange soreness in his 

bottom and the feeling that something was still inside him. His 

little sphincter tightened instinctively and the discomfort seemed 

to fade. Then he remembered what he'd done the night before, the 

overwhelming feelings that had surged through him until he had 

finally collapsed onto the floor. He remembered his father lifting 

him out of the shower and standing him up and gently drying him 

off, the towel soft and fluffy as it passed over him. He smiled as 

he remembered the playful dabs at his genitals before his father 

carried him into the bedroom. Outside it seemed darker than usual 

and then Mark realized that it was raining.



As the memory returned Mark became aware that his penis was 

hard again. It was hard like it was almost every morning, demanding 

his attention again and again. It was funny that something so small 

could feel so nice. Even though he was used to how it felt, he still 

wanted to do it. His fingers moved slowly downwards and brushed 

over his smooth hairless groin, tickling his warm soft penis as it 

stuck outward next to his belly. Gently he pulled the foreskin back 

by pushing down on the silky skin tightly. The tiny bulb of his 

penis finally squeezed through the little opening and the skin 

bunched underneath making the little flared bell-shaped head even 

firmer. His foreskin was still tight but his father had told him 

that it would gradually get looser over the next few years. He liked 

the fact that it was tight, even though it was hard to pull back 

sometimes, it made his little penis seem even harder and the 

feelings that came from it were especially nice. He casually 

stroked his penis and rubbed his fingertips lightly up and down the 

little stiff shaft. He caressed his testicles gently and then went 

back to massaging the glans of his penis until he felt like he was 

in heaven and he quivered with delight.



The boy did it for a long while though never building up to a 

peak, just enjoying the pleasant sensations that began in his short 

rigid penis and flowed through him. He did it until it was lighter 

in his room. He listened to the comforting sound of rain splashing 

on the window and the rhythmic slap of his little testicles as they 

bounced up and down when he masturbated. He did it until his father 

knocked on the door, "I'm leaving for work now," he called out.



"Bye dad," the boy yelled back. Mark pulled the sheet up 

quickly to cover his naked body and smiled as his father opened the 

door.



"You feel okay now?" the man asked with concern.



"Yeah I'm fine, Daddy. I just slipped and fell. That's all." 

He grinned at his father. "I got a bump on my head I think."



"Well you have to be more careful. It's easy to break a leg 

falling like that. What are you going to do today? It's supposed 

to rain all day."



"I guess I'll go over to Adrian's," Mark answered.



The man nodded and reached down and lovingly tousled his son's 

silky dark hair. The boy grinned cheekily. "See you tonight. If 

it's still raining I'll swing by and pick you up at Adrian's house, 

okay?" he said as he walked back towards the door.



"Thanks Dad. Bye!" the boy said. In those few minutes his 

enjoyment and interest in the feelings that came from his little 

penis had faded and the boy got out of bed. He showered quickly, 

dressed and went down stairs to find something to eat before he 

went over to see Adrian. He didn't feel much like eating cereal so 

he settled for a glass of milk and then left for his friend's house.



All that day it rained and the two boys played at Adrian's 

house for the entire day. Mark didn't tell Adrian what he'd done 

the night before. It wasn't that he was ashamed about it, it was 

just that the opportunity to talk about it never presented itself. 

That day, to anyone else, the two boys carried on like perfectly 

normal eleven-year-old boys as they played with Adrian's train set 

for most of the day. After lunch they watched videos and played 

Nintendo until Mark's father came by to pick him up. There was no 

mention of sex, of what Adrian had done with his uncle, of the sex-

games the boys often played together when they were alone. It was 

later that night, just after eight o'clock when the phone rang at 

Mark's house.



Mark's father answered. "Oh hi Adrian. Yes Mark's upstairs. 

Just a minute and I'll call him." "MARK! It's for you, it's Adrian."



"Thanks Daddy," Mark called back, "I'll take it up here, 

okay?"



The man put the receiver down as he heard the 'click' from the 

phone in Mark's bedroom.



"Hi Adrian," Mark said cheerily as he lounged back in the 

couch next to the bay window in his bedroom, "How's it going kid?"



"Hi Mark...." the other boy said quietly.



Immediately Mark detected the stress in his friend's voice, 

"What's up Adrian?"



"Mark,... can we talk? I,... don't know what,... well what to 

do," Adrian said nervously.



"What's wrong? You sound kind of sick. Are you okay?" Mark 

asked.



"Mark,... I feel really sick,... I keep getting these bad 

pains in my stomach. It's really hurting."



"Have you told your mom? Maybe it's diarrhea?" Mark suggested.



There was a long pause, "I don't think that's it. I,... well 

I haven't been to the bathroom. I haven't pooped for days. I think 

it's because of what I did with my uncle.... Mark, I'm getting 

really worried. Maybe I got hurt inside,... from it," the boy said. 

The note of urgency in the other boy's voice convinced Mark that 

something was wrong. "Mark, are you there? I think,... I'm going 

to be sick. It feels really terrible inside. I feel really hot all 

over."



"Gee Adrian. I'm sorry. I don't know. Maybe you should tell 

your mom?"



"Don't be dumb, Mark. I can't do that, you know why. But I'm 

getting really worried."



Mark thought for a moment, "Maybe you should take something. 

You know like ExLax or something like that to make you poop, 

Adrian."



The other boy coughed, "I already did that. For the last few 

days, since I got back. I still haven't been to the toilet."



"Well I don't know Adrian. I still think you should tell your 

mom you don't feel well," Mark suggested.



"I can't Mark. She's going to ask all sorts of questions. I 

don't want to see a doctor. If he looks at me, back there, well 

he's going to know isn't he, 'cause I'm still bruised pretty 

badly?" Adrian said angrily.



"I don't know. Do you feel real bad Adrian?" Mark asked.



"I,... feel like I'm on fire inside, I keep wanting to throw 

up,... and it hurts something awful." Adrian groaned and Mark 

shivered, now very aware of his best friend's pain.



"I guess we could ask my dad. He'd know what to do." 



"Mark, could we,... I mean wouldn't he ask what happened?" 

Adrian said nervously.



"Gee Adrian I don't know. My dad's always been good like that. 

He might ask, but he has this thing about not telling secrets. I 

don't think he'd tell your mom. Why don't you ask your mom if you 

can sleep over at my place tonight. We can kind of figure out what 

to do then."



"Okay, I'll go ask her," Adrian said. Mark waited on the line 

for a few minutes, running his favorite model car, the 928 S4 

Porsche, up and down the window sill. "Mark,... are you there?"



"Yeah!"



"She said it was okay. She's going to drop me off in a few 

minutes because it's still raining. Are you sure it's okay with 

your dad if I stay over?"



"Yeah, he's okay. He always says it's fine by him if you sleep 

over. He likes you a lot," Mark said honestly. "See you in a bit, 

huh?"



The other boy hung up and Mark looked around. Suddenly the 

memory of what he'd done the night before came back. If Adrian had 

been hurt doing that 'stuff' he wondered whether he'd been hurt 

inside as well. The thought scared him badly. He hadn't been to the 

toilet either since the night before. Cautiously the boy probed his 

belly with his fingers. There was no pain, just the firmness of his 

lean body, but despite that Mark was still worried.



After a few minutes Mark went downstairs. His father was 

sitting in the study working on a paper for an upcoming conference. 

He looked up as Mark looked into the room. "Hi Marco? How's Adrian?" 

he asked.



"Hi Daddy," Mark said as he came into the room. He stopped by 

the doorway and leaned casually against the door jamb. His father 

smiled as he looked at his handsome young son. The boy was good-

looking, too good-looking, he realized. The boy had a natural grace 

about him. There was something sexual in the way his lithe young 

body reclined, in the dark silky hair falling over his forehead, 

in the dark sensuous eyes. His full lips were almost too passionate 

for a boy. He was pure Venetian. His father and mother were both 

from the Veneto and Mark had inherited the characteristic long dark 

lashes, the thin eyebrows, the small, slightly upturned nose, the 

delicate features. He was dressed in a striped tee-shirt. The boy 

could have been on a gondola or strolling in the Piazza San Marco.



"What's up, Marco?" he teased, using the Italian form of the 

boy's name, his 'pet' name for his son. His eyes were drawn 

irresistibly back to the beautiful slender boy before him. In one 

way at least, the boy took after his mother; he radiated a barely 

concealed sexuality. That he also had his mother's beauty 

compounded the problem. His memory of the beautiful naked body 

lying on the bed was still very strong in his mind. He forced 

himself to look away and back to his paper.



"Daddy, can Adrian stay over tonight?" Mark asked.



"Huh? Yes of course he can, if you two guys behave. I have a 

lot of work to get through tonight."



"Yeah! We'll be good, I promise," Mark grinned.



"Won't Adrian get wet? It's still raining outside isn't it?" 

he asked.



"Yeah, but his mom's dropping him off in a few minutes," Mark 

replied.



The boy's father nodded absently and went back to work. He was 

barely aware that a few minutes later both boys came back through 

the hall and climbed the stairs to Mark's bedroom.



"How do you feel, Adrian? Is it any better?" Mark asked with 

concern as soon as the two boys were safely inside his bedroom.



"It hurts inside Mark something awful. I've never felt this 

bad before. I keep getting terrible cramps in my belly," Adrian 

replied.



"Do you really think it's because of what you did with your 

uncle?" Mark asked nervously, "Maybe it damages you inside if you 

do that stuff... You know if a guy puts his penis in your poop hole 

like that,... well maybe it does something to you so you can't go 

properly afterwards."



Adrian looked up from his seat on the couch, "Mark,... Mark 

I'm worried. I don't know what to do."



The other boy sat in his favorite position, cross-legged on 

the other chair, like a little slender Buddha. He sighed, "Ad' I 

think we've got to tell my dad. He knows about this stuff,... and 

if you are hurt somehow, well he can fix you up you know."



Adrian nodded, "Yeah, I guess. But, how can I ask him? If he 

sees, he'll probably know what I did with my uncle."



Mark looked thoughtful. "I guess we could ask him like it was 

a friend of ours that was sick. Another boy who can't poop and all 

that,... and kind of see what he suggests."



Adrian nodded, "I suppose so, but I'm scared Mark."



Mark smiled bravely at his best friend, "I guess we'd better 

go down and ask him. We can say it's a friend of yours so you can 

tell him the symptoms and stuff."



"I guess, but what if he asks why 'my friend' hasn't been to 

see a doctor?"



Mark shrugged, "I suppose we could say his parents didn't have 

any money, so he couldn't afford to go. Maybe we could say... No 

that wouldn't work,... I guess you could tell my dad the truth, 

only make it your friend that was doing it instead of you."



Adrian nodded, unconvinced. He stood up, wincing as another 

vicious cramp came without warning. He followed Mark back down the 

stairs, walking gingerly. He stopped outside the study and looked 

in the door as Mark went up to his father and leaned back against 

the burled-walnut desk.



John smiled and looked at his son as he silently admired the 

beautiful slender body displayed almost arrogantly before him. "Yes 

Marco?" he said. He wasn't really bothered by the interruption to 

his work when it was Mark. His eyes lingered momentarily on the 

boy's groin, at the small, slightly rounded bulge in his shorts. 

Again, the man remembered the boy from the night before. All of the 

day he had carried an image of the small immature genitals, 

perfectly formed and absolutely hairless. Earlier that day, right 

after lunch, he'd been called into an emergency procedure on a six-

year-old black boy for a burst appendix. The appendectomy had gone 

well but he still remembered the inescapable fact that the little 

boy's penis was probably as large as his own son's. In that instant 

John wondered one more time whether he was sexually attracted to 

his own son. It was a thought that came to him with increasing 

frequency over the last few years. He had begun to realize the boy's 

overt sexuality just after Mark had turned nine years old. Even 

then it was possible to recognize the characteristics that 

identified the boy as likely to be both attracted to, and 

attractive to others of his sex. Was the boy gay? It was impossible 

to know with any certainty, but it was more than likely he thought. 

He looked away and closed his eyes and in the effort to banish the 

persistent thoughts into the recesses of his mind.



"Daddy," Mark began, "Adrian and I want to ask you something?"



The man nodded, wondering what the boys were up to. It didn't 

have the sound of one of their typical pranks because there was a 

serious note in Mark's voice that usually wasn't there. Mark was 

innocent and carefree. He was uninhibited and open about almost 

everything, even his emerging interest in sex. He often talked 

candidly with the boy and as far as he knew there weren't any 

secrets between them, except for one and he suspected that even 

that one would come out eventually.



John nodded patiently and looked up at the beautiful boy. This 

time he made certain that he didn't look at the boy's groin, but 

again the memory of what he'd seen the night before came back. "Well 

Daddy," Mark began, "Adrian has this friend you see, and he has 

this problem. It's well, it's kind of hard to explain. You see his 

friend can't go to the toilet,... you know he can't poop. He hasn't 

for a while now,... and well, now he's feeling kind of sick and 

he's been getting stomach cramps and all."



John raised his eyebrows and looked past his son to Adrian. 

The boy was reluctant to come into the room and he approached 

cautiously as the man beckoned him in. "Okay Adrian, if he's your 

friend perhaps you can describe to me what the problem is?" Adrian 

nodded. "Okay, well first thing is, how long has it been since your 

friend went last?"



Adrian glanced at Mark nervously, he shrugged, then thought, 

"I guess a few days... No more like a week, maybe more... I'm not 

sure."



John nodded. "Does you friend have a fever? Does he feel hot?" 

he asked as he noticed the faint wetness on Adrian's upper lip and 

forehead. Then he noticed the boy's nervousness and the slight 

trembling of the small slender body.



Adrian nodded, "He gets really hot at night,... and he's been 

getting these terrible pains inside, kind of in his belly, only 

more inside than that."



John smiled reassuringly, curious as to what was going on, 

"Has you friend been eating something,... well unusual, maybe some 

kind of fruit he's not used to, something like that?"



Adrian shook his head then another cramp came and he gasped 

as he shuddered in pain. John's eyes went to the boy's face, noting 

the grimace of pain and the barely constrained cry. The boy 

swallowed and more moisture gathered on his pale forehead. John 

looked back at his son, hoping for an answer, but Mark stared back 

at him. Finally unable to meet his father's eyes he looked down at 

his feet self-consciously.



John placed his elbow on the table and rubbed his eyes with 

his fingers. Something was very wrong with Adrian. "Mark, if you 

don't mind. I'd like you to go up to your bedroom for a while, okay? 

I need to talk to Adrian."



Mark looked at his best friend nervously, then hesitantly 

backed out of the room. He was very aware of Adrian's accusing 

stare. "Close the door too please Mark, if you would," John added.



He turned back to the other boy, "Sit down please Adrian. Now, 

I need to know more to be able to help your friend. I expect he's 

about your age right and he's normally quite healthy. Most of the 

time this kind of problem is caused by a change in the boy's diet. 

Sometimes it's caused by bacteria or a virus, but it can be very 

serious. Not having proper bowel movements can make a person very 

sick. If it's constipation, well it usually clears up by itself in 

a few days. If it's bacterial or viral, then your friend is going 

to need proper treatment."



Adrian looked down at the floor, "Doctor Gordon,...are there 

any other things that could cause it? Well, like what if it isn't 

something he ate, and it isn't a virus or anything like that?"



John shrugged, "There are other things that might cause it, 

but they aren't very likely in a boy your age. There could be 

something wrong with your friend's digestive system,... an 

inflammation of the lower intestine or something like that."



Adrian nodded, clenching his lips as he thought, considering 

and weighing the issues that were foremost in his mind. "Well,... 

is there some way he could hurt himself inside?"



John looked up, his eyes questioning, "Perhaps. Adrian, that 

would depend on what the boy had done. There are some things that 

could cause him to have that kind of problem."



Adrian began to feel a terrible panic and despair settled over 

him like a crushing weight. His stomach seemed to be turning over 

and he swallowed and tried to fight the fear and shame that rushed 

into his mind. John smiled at the boy gently. "Adrian, you're 

Mark's best friend and I think you know we're friends too. You have 

to trust me, not only because I'm a friend, but because I'm a doctor 

too. I think you need to be honest with me. I promise that anything 

you say will be only between the two of us. Not even Mark will know. 

Adrian, can you trust me that much?"



Adrian sighed as he wiped his moist forehead with the palm of 

his hand. "You promise? You promise you won't tell my mom?" he 

begged.



John nodded, "I promise I won't tell anyone else, Adrian. Not 

your mother, not Mark, no one. I promise," he said solemnly.



The boy looked down, wiping his eyes again and again as more 

tears formed in his eyes. "Mark already knows Dr. Gordon.... While 

I was away at my uncle's farm,... I had sex,... with him." The boy 

finally broke and the memories of the fun and joy he'd shared with 

his uncle suddenly becoming shameful. His guilt poured out and he 

sobbed.



John reached out and placed his hand over the boy's hand. 

"It's okay Adrian. It's okay to cry. It's okay."



The boy looked back at the man. His eyes had reddened and his 

cheeks were wet with tears. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose 

with the back of his hand, then seeing the wet streak he reached 

for the handkerchief in his pocket. He wiped his tears away and 

blew his nose. "It was wrong. I knew it was at the time but I 

couldn't help it. I wanted to do it Doctor Gordon... I wanted to 

more than anything in the whole world. He was kind and nice and we 

had fun together." The man nodded, still stroking the boy's small 

hand reassuringly. "He put his cock in my bottom. He put it all the 

way up inside me. We did it lots of times.... He put his 'cum' in 

me too. Is that what,... is that what hurt me? Does it do something 

bad to me inside?"



John breathed out and looked away, his eyes going to the 

window and out into the darkness beyond. "His semen won't hurt you 

like that, Adrian," he said gently. "There are other ways that a 

man's semen could hurt you, but not like that. His penis could cause 

you to have problems though."



Adrian looked at the man curiously. His fear began to 

disappear. The man's voice was gentle and understanding and gave 

him the comfort that he so desperately needed. "How?" he asked.



John breathed out again. "I don't know your uncle, Adrian, but 

a man's penis is usually very big. You aren't that big so when his 

penis goes inside you it's very likely that you'll be injured in 

some way."



Adrian nodded, "It hurt a lot at first. I guess for the first 

few times it was pretty bad and I felt sore afterwards. Then it 

stopped hurting and I started to like it."



John nodded, knowing exactly what Adrian had experienced. "The 

first few times your anus, where your hole is, has to stretch a 

long way and it isn't used to it. Sometimes it tears and bleeds and 

makes what are called anal fissures. Those can be very painful but 

they'll usually disappear quickly, usually in a week or two. The 

tissue is also very delicate inside and it's easily damaged too. 

There can be a lot of bruising and that will hurt as well."



The boy smiled slowly as he began to understand, grateful that 

the man was explaining what had occurred, "I bled a fair bit the 

first time. A little bit sometimes after that, usually when it hurt 

going in,... and then it just stopped."



John nodded, "The bleeding is not unusual, Adrian. It stopped 

as soon as your uncle took his penis out didn't it?" Adrian nodded. 

"The real problem is that his penis pushes your feces up into your 

colon and lower intestine. It's called fecal impaction. It forms a 

large hard lump and it lodges in your rectum. If it's big enough 

then it blocks your bowel movements."



Adrian breathed out, it didn't sound too serious. For the last 

two days he'd lived in fear that his uncle's 'cum' had done 

something inside him, after all, it was 'cum' that made babies. "I 

took ExLax," he said awkwardly, "but it didn't help at all."



The man grinned and shook his head, "It wouldn't, the ExLax 

works from the top down and your problem is right at the bottom.... 

so to speak."



Adrian smiled weakly. "What happens now? I mean,... well how 

do I get it out then?"



John smiled, "That's why you see a doctor, Adrian. So are you 

my new patient?" The boy grinned and nodded happily. "Okay then, 

I'm going to have to examine you. It's very personal and I don't 

want you to worry. I have to insert my finger into your bottom and 

find out how big the lump inside is and where it's located. Is that 

something you can let me do?"



Adrian nodded after a moment's pause, "Yeah I guess."



John smiled reassuringly, "Okay then. Now I have to get 

something from the bathroom. I need some Vaseline to help my finger 

go inside easier. I want you to take your pants and underpants down 

and I'll be right back." Adrian nodded as John came to his feet and 

left the room. The boy hesitated for a minute, thinking about what 

he'd done with his uncle. He had liked the way his uncle had touched 

him and made him feel good. Even when his uncle had finally gotten 

into his bed he had been willing and he had liked what happened. 

It had hurt a lot at first when his uncle put his penis inside him, 

but after a while the pain stopped and then he liked it. He had 

been eager to do whatever his uncle wanted and on more that a few 

occasions he'd been the instigator. The only bad thing about the 

two weeks he'd spent with his uncle was the problem he had now.



By the time John came back into the room Adrian had removed 

his pants and underpants and, except for his socks, was naked from 

the waist down. He remained standing as John closed the door and 

placed the little jar of Vaseline on the desk. Mark's father had 

seen the boy naked before many times as the two boys spent a lot 

of time together. John had often taken them to the swimming pool 

and he'd been in the changing room with the boys many times. That, 

plus the fact that Adrian frequently stayed overnight provided 

ample opportunity to see the boy naked.



John appraised the young body expertly and made the obvious 

comparison with his own son. Adrian was a little thinner than Mark, 

though not what could be called skinny. His skin was pale, a lot 

lighter than Mark's olive complexion, and smooth with an almost 

translucent delicacy. His penis and testicles were noticeably 

larger than Mark's, though the differences in their heights and 

weights were not that much. John's experienced 'eye' observed that 

Adrian's penis was thicker than his son's and tapered from a wide 

base to a rounded, circumcised head. He was glad that Mark hadn't 

been circumcised, it looked more natural. Neither boy was 

physically mature, the onset of puberty still probably several 

years away for Mark, but Adrian's larger testicles suggested that 

the first phase of puberty had just started or was in the near 

offing. This time John's eyes lingered on the boy's small genitals 

and it was only with the greatest effort that he finally looked 

away. The fact that another man, the boy's uncle, had petted them, 

caressed them, sucked them, was strangely exciting to him.



He looked up to find Adrian watching him curiously and the boy 

smiled shyly as their eyes met and raised his eyebrows 

questioningly. John looked away quickly as he wondered whether 

Adrian could see into his mind and read the sudden lust that he 

felt for the half-naked boy before him.



"Lean forward over the table please, Adrian," he said. The boy 

complied. "That's right put your hips on the edge like that." He 

moved closer so that he stood behind the boy. Gently he placed his 

hand on the boy's narrow back, feeling the little bumps of his 

spine. "Now Adrian, I'm going to insert my finger. It's going to 

feel strange at first,... well I guess you know how it feels don't 

you? I don't think it will hurt but if it does then say so, okay?"



The boy nodded and John opened the jar and scooped some 

Vaseline onto his finger. Clinically, he knew that he should use a 

surgical glove, but they were in his car and it was still raining. 

He'd thought about it on the way to get the Vaseline. The thought 

of his finger inside Adrian's body was very exciting, growing 

stronger with each step that he took, finally becoming so strong 

that he'd trembled with the intensity of his sexual arousal while 

he was in the bathroom.



With his right forefinger thoroughly lubricated, John knelt 

down behind Adrian and gently parted the boy's cheeks. He could see 

a ring of bruised flesh and he turned the desk lamp so that it 

pointed towards Adrian's buttocks. The origin of the boy's problem 

was clearly visible. There was a circle, about an inch or more wide, 

of dark flesh, brown tinged with purple. It represented the 

residual bruising from the entry of the man's much larger penis. 

One tiny pinkish line was all that remained from an anal fissure.



"You're healing very well. There's just a little bit of 

bruising," John observed. In a few more days there would be no sign 

at all of what Adrian had done with considerable frequency over a 

two week period. The boy's anus was quite small, probably about the 

same size as Mark's, he thought. For a second he wondered whether 

Mark was sexually active too. The idea that Mark's body was like 

this as well was captivating. Mark was only a few months younger 

and far better looking that Adrian. John wondered when his own son 

would start having sex. Again he wondered, no hoped, that his own 

son was gay. His own life would be considerably more enjoyable if 

he was.



He pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind as he 

carefully pressed the tip of his finger into the boy's anus. There 

was a positive 'anal-wink', an automatic closing reflex that showed 

strong muscle control. He pressed forward gently, rotating his 

finger slightly so that it was eased in. It wriggled past the anal 

muscle and into the compressive tube of the boy's sphincter. Adrian 

trembled slightly and John smiled. It wasn't hurting the boy, on 

the contrary, Adrian's shiver was one of pleasure. He pushed a 

little deeper and felt the hard lump suddenly push back against his 

finger. He probed cautiously. The fecal mass was large and very 

hard, probably too large to pass through the boy's sphincter. He 

considered using his finger to massage the boy's tiny prostate and 

dilate the sphincter but he doubted whether the boy's opening could 

be stretched wide enough. He smiled to himself, it was surprising 

what the body of an eleven-year-old boy could do. A grown man's 

penis, and a large one at that, had been inside the boy's tiny hole. 

He thought of his own penis, and imagined it sinking into the tight 

hot hole that held his finger captive. Adrian wasn't even close to 

sexual maturity and he'd enjoyed it. He hoped that Mark would enjoy 

it too when the time came. He shook his head and carefully pulled 

his finger out.



"Did that hurt?" John asked.



The boy turned around slightly looking over his shoulder, 

"No,... it was okay.... Well?"



John came to his feet and moved around so that he stood in 

front of the boy. "It's quite a large mass. It's too big to come 

out by itself I think. Your uncle must have a big penis," he teased.



Adrian grinned, "Yeah! I guess he's pretty big down there." 

He straightened up and added, "So what happens now?"



John could feel his own penis hardening and growing tight in 

his underpants. He risked another glance downward. Adrian's penis 

was half-erect, the short wedge-shaped shaft pointing downward at 

something less than a 45 degree angle.



When he looked up again Adrian was smiling. John swallowed. 

Both of them were suddenly silent, both blushing slightly with 

embarrassment. He wondered if the boy felt the same thrill that he 

did. He moved away, suddenly very conscious of his proximity to the 

half-naked boy as he realized the powerful effect the slender young 

body was having on him.



"Hmmmm,... The best thing to do right now is to give you an 

enema and try to loosen it up. Once it breaks down into smaller 

pieces then it should come out easily," he said.



"What's an enema?" Adrian asked.



"I'll put a special fluid inside your bottom to dissolve it 

and kind of flush you out. If that doesn't work it's very likely 

that you'll have to have surgery. It's only a minor operation 

though. It's not usually done on boys your age for one good reason."



Adrian smirked cheekily, "Okay!" 



"I'll have to drive down to the drug store and pick up an enema 

bag. Why don't you go upstairs and tell Mark that everything's 

okay? I'll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes," John said as 

he picked up his wallet and car keys from the desk. It was time for 

an enema.





Chapter 7. Love.



After twenty minutes John stood up and looked down at his 

sleeping son. For a moment he thought about carrying the boy into 

his own bedroom but he didn't. He looked at the boy lovingly. Mark 

was all that he cared about. He felt very sad. The boy was growing 

up so fast. Even though his physical development was lagging it was 

increasingly obvious that the fact that Mark's sex organs were 

nowhere near maturity was irrelevant. That Mark would soon explore 

his body's capacity for pleasure was very much in his mind. John 

knew with absolute certainty that Mark's next experience would very 

likely occur with a man. His own experiences at thirteen had been 

pleasurable.



John remembered Skip vividly. He had loved Skip and his only 

regret was that he wished that Skip had loved him as much. Realizing 

that he was neither more nor less that one boy among many had been 

exceedingly painful. That terrible realization had occurred 

shortly after his fifteenth birthday, not long after he had his 

first release of seminal fluid. He had been so proud then. Each 

orgasm was now a matter of demonstrating his newly discovered 

capacity to Skip by ejaculating his milky fluid as Skip pumped 

rapidly into his eager young body. He was almost perpetually 

aroused. He had gone to Skip's apartment as he usually did on a 

Thursday but by Friday he wanted a 'repeat performance'. By then 

Skip had provided him with his own key and he let himself in. Skip 

had another boy on the couch. The boy was in exactly the same 

position that he used with Skip, bending over the couch with his 

buttocks presented to the man behind him. Skip was thrusting his 

thick cock vigorously into the young boy's body, grunting with each 

forward motion and groaning as he pulled back. The 'new' boy was 

one of the youngest members of the troop. He was an attractive 

blond-headed boy who already well on his way through puberty. The 

boy gasped loudly with each lunge into his pale smooth body. Like 

John, he was an eager participant and from the way he was 'taking' 

the man's penis, it was obvious that he was a 'regular' in the 

apartment. John remembered how he had backed out of the living room 

and, as Skip looked up, he bolted through the door and into the 

corridor. He ran home, confused and full of hatred for the man that 

had given succor to his body for more than eighteen months. Two 

weeks and one day later he had gone back to Skip.



 That memory was one of John's saddest. Skip had taken him 

into his bedroom and he had fucked the boy mercilessly for most of 

the afternoon. John had been unable to resist and he had submitted 

again and again until he was to weak to stand. Exhausted, John had 

fallen asleep. When he awoke Skip told him that "he wasn't the only 

boy with a horny ass". The man was cynical and without remorse. The 

boy had broken down and told Skip that he loved him and the man 

shrugged. Skip shrugged off the boy's affection and then told him 

in no uncertain terms what he was interested in.



As he looked down at his son John wanted only for Mark to be 

happy and healthy, and when he was horny, for him to be loved. The 

more he thought about the other boy lying in the bedroom next door 

the more he worried about Mark. John was saddened and depressed. 

His son, and Adrian too for that matter, deserved to be loved. John 

shook his head in sad resignation. There had to be a better way for 

the boy to grow up gay than by engaging in explorations with men 

that did not love him. There had to be a way that the boy could 

find love first. He wanted to confirm the existence of that love 

before his son was hurt. He wanted to know that the boy's heart was 

never broken, that his dreams were never shattered. He had been 

devastated as he realized that Skip had never loved him, and never 

would. By then it was too late. He was addicted.



He turned and quietly walked out of the bedroom and through 

the quiet house. He checked Mark's bedroom to make sure that Adrian 

was sleeping and then went downstairs and into his study. He had 

secretly hoped for the last several years that Mark's initiation 

would fall on his shoulders. He would have been able to give the 

boy all the love and affection that he needed. That dream seemed 

further away than ever now. He closed the door to the study and 

went over to the computer. He remained standing while he switched 

it on and watched the machine 'boot-up'. The memory of his slender 

dark-haired son lying on the bed upstairs stayed with him. He could 

picture the slender brown legs, the lean torso covered by the 

brightly colored pajama shirt, the small firm bottom. He had 

harbored the desire of penetrating that beautiful young body for a 

long time only to find out that it was only a dream. Nothing more, 

nothing less.



He unfastened the belt and clasp of his shorts and opened his 

zipper. His penis was limp but it wouldn't be for long. He pushed 

his shorts and underpants down to his knees and sat down before the 

computer. He logged on, switched to his medical-center account, and 

changed to his 'special' hidden directory. He began to masturbate 

as he read the names of the files and then decided to read his 

favorite story one more time. He breathed out in a long sigh as he 

started to read, wishing that the boy-hero, Dylan was Mark. His 

son, like the boy in the story would find love and happiness. 



There was no frantic desire to ejaculate and John rubbed his 

penis rhythmically. He had been circumcised as was the fashion in 

1954 but other than that Mark's genitals were a carbon copy of his 

father's, only smaller. Fully erect, John's penis was less than six 

inches long and it had a narrow girth just like the eleven-year-

old boy upstairs. He read the story closely, savoring each detail 

as he fantasized about Mark as the boy in the story.



The idea formed very slowly in his mind. A large part of the 

opening chapters were strangely familiar, and then he recognized 

detail after detail. The similarities between where he lived and 

the descriptions of the swimming pool and environs where the story 

occurred were too strong to be the result of random chance. The 

more he thought about it, the stronger the connections became. John 

looked at the screen in a daze. He didn't believe it. It could not 

be true. He wondered whether the story was true. He re-read the 

introduction. The author claimed that only part of the story was 

fiction. Where did it change? Had the author really experienced the 

feelings he talk about?



With trembling hands he began to compose a message to the 

author. The words evaded him. He wanted to express his feelings, 

his interest, his fears, everything that he had been thinking out. 

John typed one word: "Hamilton?" as the subject of the mail and 

then dispatched it to the anonymous address.



A few minutes later his mail icon beeped and he clicked on it. 

For a moment he was surprised. He had not expected a reply so 

quickly. The email was not what he wanted. It was a confirmation 

from the anonymous server, simply a help file and the name of the 

anonymous account that had been assigned to him.



"Damn," he swore aloud. He went back to reading the story. He 

read quickly, skimming the story for the parts that interested him 

most. Minutes passed. He masturbated slowly, backing away when he 

neared the precipice, then resuming as the feelings of imminent 

orgasm had faded. Minutes turned into an hour then just as he was 

about to finish the story he stopped backing away from the 

inevitable and began to rub his aching hard penis faster and 

faster. The man and the two boys had played 'strip poker', and the 

boy-hero was in bed and resting after a particularly 'nice' fuck 

as the mail icon beeped again.



He clicked on the icon again. The two-line message was to the 

point:



   NOT WRONG!

   Alex.



John felt his heart rate surge and he breathed deeply. He 

thought for a few minutes and then began to type a reply. There was 

so much that he wanted to say.



   Hi Alex,



   I really enjoyed reading your story, Summer Dreams. I 

   do not know how much of the story is true but it is all 

   believable. I identify very strongly with Alex Weston 

   and I have a lot sympathy. For some time now I have had 

   similar feelings for my own son. He is 11 and I think 

   of him as somewhere between the two boys in your story.



   Mark knows a lot about sex but he is not as 'aggressive' as 

   Dylan or Kelly. Like the man in your story, my son and I 

   share an intimacy that is particularly strong, but I too 

   am unable to take the final step that will bring us 

   together. Although I do not know with certainty that 

   my son is gay, we have talked about what it means. For 

   several years now I have strongly suspected that he is

   inclined that way and tonight he admitted that he was 

   very attracted to his own sex. While nothing untoward 

   happened I thought of my son in a sexual way constantly. 

   It is very confusing.



   When I was 13 I had a long relationship with a man and 

   I think I am the better for it. At the time I was often

   disappointed and ashamed but over the years I came to 

   realize that he helped me through a very difficult time 

   in my life. I guess I would like to help my own son come 

   to understand himself. I just don't know how to go about it.



   I hope we can continue to talk. 

   John.







John pressed the send mail button and sat back. His penis had 

subsided and casually he began to run his fingers along it. It 

started to stiffen and he massaged his testicles as it thickened 

and hardened quickly. Confused, was an understatement. While he was 

talking with Mark he had all but convinced himself that he could 

never have an incestuous relationship with the slender perfect boy 

that reclined on the bed. Now, he was not so sure. His penis was 

fully erect and he began to masturbate, rubbing the full five-and-

a-half inches as he thought back to the conversation he'd had with 

Mark only a little more than an hour earlier. Mark had wanted to 

do the things Adrian had done with his uncle, he had wanted to 

experience the feelings for himself. John sighed. He could remember 

his son's smooth lithe legs as they disappeared under his pajama 

shirt. A picture of himself flashed into his mind and merged with 

Mark. He remembered lying on top of the exercise mats, night after 

night as Skip pushed into him. Every time he had wanted to resist 

but as soon as Skip had given him the knowing look, the raised 

eyebrows, the faint, teasing smile, he had surrendered. It would 

have been different, very different if Skip had wanted more than 

that alone. Almost every night from the time he started with Skip 

until he was fifteen and finally realized that it was pointless, 

he had dreamed about running away to live with Skip. Skip would be 

his father and they would live together 'happily ever after'.



"Dad?" a small sleepy voice whispered.



John twisted around and saw Mark standing in the doorway. He 

shuddered, instinctively trying to pull up his zipper and cover his 

now aroused penis. The boy was still dressed only in his pajama 

shirt and his small hand was at his groin, squeezing on his thin 

rigid penis.



"Were you jerking off?" the boy asked curiously. His voice was 

high-pitched and it seemed to tremble with excitement. John nodded 

awkwardly, blushing quickly and deeply as he looked away. He tried 

to find the words he wanted to say to Mark but he was dumbfounded. 

He slowly looked back at the boy framed in the doorway. Mark's hand 

was still stroking the short thin shaft of his penis. His hand moved 

relentlessly, shamelessly pulling the foreskin back and forth over 

the little swollen glans. His legs were apart and the boy smiled 

mystically as he looked at his father with fascination.



"Dad?" he whispered. The man nodded and swallowed. "You said 

it was okay?" he asked uncertainly. Mark stepped forward and came 

into the study. His eyes were focused on his father's penis. He had 

seen his father's penis often enough but never erect before. His 

heart jumped and began to pound wildly the closer he came to his 

father. John breathed deeply. He entire mind was filled with a 

long-past memory of himself and Skip. "Dad?" Mark repeated 

nervously as he came up to his father's chair. The head of his 

father's penis glistened. The glans was fat and swollen, bloated 

as it flared out before it joined to the blood-engorged shaft. It 

was a deep almost-purple color. Like the boy, his father's rigid 

penis wasn't very large but it was the largest that Mark had ever 

seen. It overwhelmed his own small erection. The urge to touch it 

rose up in the boy and he shivered involuntarily. He tried to look 

away from it, to meet his father's eyes, but he could not. After 

even a brief glance away, his eyes were drawn back.



The boy's penis flexed, stiffening even further with the 

intense flow of adrenaline that now coursed through his veins. He 

trembled. The boy's excitement knew no bounds. He swallowed 

nervously. His teeth chattered despite his clenched jaws. He was 

frightened, awed, overcome, entranced. He reached forward.



John flinched as his son's fingers brushed lightly against his 

penis. "Don't Mark," he breathed out.



Mark pulled his hand away as if he had been bitten. John's 

lips were suddenly very dry and he licked then. His breathing was 

erratic and he gasped, trying to find the air he needed. He shook 

his head trying to deny the need inside him. He had conquered his 

desire every time since he had been seventeen years old and he had 

first touched the small hard penis of a twelve-year-old boy. 

Travis! The boy's name had been Travis. He was a new scout and Skip 

had placed the young boy, his own nephew, in John's care. That 

Wednesday night he had kept Travis and John back and taken them 

into the storeroom. The twelve-year-old boy was aggressive in a way 

that John had never been, undressing completely after only a nod 

from his uncle. Travis openly masturbated in front of the man then 

began to tease John. That night John and Travis copulated on the 

exercise mats as Skip watched. It was John's last night in the scout 

troop, the following week he left to attend college in New England.



John's hand moved slowly towards his son's small penis. As it 

neared Mark took his hand away and the rigid shaft seemed to quiver 

with anticipation. "Dad,... you're okay, aren't you?" the boy 

whispered. John nodded, breathing heavily as his hand touched, then 

enclosed the little penis that was being offered to him. Mark 

flinched and for an instant tried to pull away. His father's 

fingers held his penis lightly, the tips stroking the sensitive 

skin where the tiny fat scrotum joined to the boy's legs. 



John looked up into his son's eyes hoping that he would find 

the same desire that burned inside him. Mark smiled shyly and 

nodded his assent and John's hand gently pulled him forward and 

around so that Mark stood before him. "You sure, Mark?" he asked 

cautiously. Mark nodded again and straddled his father's legs. He 

sat down, his firm buttocks against his father's knees and the man 

began to caress his genitals slowly. The boy sighed and his eyes 

closed as feelings, long suppressed and previously frightening, 

surged into his mind and demanded control. he surrendered 

willingly, relaxing as the sensations in his penis took over. After 

less than a minute Mark was twitching and flexing his penis 

hungrily, demanding more, faster, harder. Uncertainly he reached 

out and awkwardly enclosed his father's penis. No words passed 

between father and son as they masturbated each other.



John erupted. His semen spurted out over his son's hand, 

splashed onto the boy's slender thighs and over his genitals and 

then dribbled slowly down the throbbing hot length of the man's 

penis. Mark sat up quickly, smearing the thick white cream on his 

hand away as he wiped it against his bare thigh. Father and son 

gazed at each other, each remembering a little boy standing in a 

public toilet, his pale body stained with a man's semen. John 

sighed in relief and reached down to his pants for a handkerchief 

to wipe up the slippery mess that covered both of them.



As he straightened up, Mark came to his feet. He smiled nervously

at his father. "Dad," he whispered, "Are we going to do what Adrian 

did with his uncle?" he asked.



John looked at the computer screen before him. His mail had 

been answered. Silently he clicked on the new message and read:



   Hi John,

   If you both want to? Enjoy it while he's still young!

   Alex.



Slowly John stood up and pulled his son to him. "Yes Marco. If 

that's what you want?" The boy nodded.



********************************************************************



THE END.



This story has been stopped at this point though it is a long way

from being finished. This course of action has been undertaken

following advice from a net-friend and fellow author that I respect. 

He observes that it is repetitive of my previous stories, predictable, 

and of little interest. In his critique, the story represents

'acceptable pederastic writing'. I hope that this is the case because

it has been my goal all along to present pederasty in a more favorable

light that it usually is given.



This will be the my last story for some time to come. I look forward

to reading the contributions of others who take my place. 

--