My 4th grade year was an interesting one, by anyone's standard. It was warm outside. Late September in New York could sometimes be pretty crappy as far as weather is concerned, but not this particular year. Like most days, we were outside at recess playing. At 10 years old I didn't have many friends. A poor physique and glasses prevented most of the other kids from wanting to be seen with me. I was generally fine with that. I was a bookworm anyway.

While playing quietly by myself on the jungle gym, I began to climb to the highest point. I had done this many times before, and considered myself a pro. I made my attempt at the summit and succeeded triumphantly. Filled with giddiness, I quickly climbed down and began again, making yet another attempt at the summit. In my mind, it might as well have been Mount Everest.

About half way up, I was taken by surprise. My body shook uncontrollably. My legs jerked. I grabbed onto the bars desperately with my hands, trying to keep from falling. I had no idea what had happened. Clutching onto the bars with white knuckles, a bead of sweat on my forehead, I caught my breath. Resting for a minute, I gathered myself together and slowly climbed back down to earth.

Once on the relative safety of the playground dirt, I tried my best to anylize what had happened. I couldn't quite make sense of it. I thought about the position I was in while climbing, the large upright support bar of the jungle gym had been between my legs. I considered my motions, I was inching myself along like a worm, sliding up the pole. Little by little I was putting the series of events together. The teachers called us in from recess.

The next day, I stood in the middle of the playground. Staring at the jungle gym like a cowboy ready for a duel, I ran the previous days' events through my head once more and made my attack quickly, using the same pole I had the day before. It took 3 summits to give myself my second ever orgasm. I had 3 that day at recess.

Something had broken inside me after that. I was insatiable. For the record, most boys are insatiable, so I didn't think myself anything other than normal at the time, but as the days turned into weeks turned into months, my depravity increased, and my masturbatory habits excelled in both frequency and variety.

My beloved pillow was next. I humped the cool cloth morning, noon, and night. I was too young ,at 10 years old, to ejaculate, but I could damn well have an orgasm, which I did every chance I had. It wasn't long before I was looking for other ways to explore my newfound ability, and I didn't rule out anything. I didn't know enough to be timid in any way. I probed and prodded every part of my young anatomy, and used whatever toys or tools I thought might help me in my quest for the best orgasm.

Besides being a bookworm, I was also a geek. I liked to take things apart; once in a while putting them back together again. Not far from home was an electronics store that I spent many hours in, reading the books, exploring the parts shelves, and asking the employees endless questions about transistors and solar panels and capacitors and microhpones and radios and anything else I could think of. One employee, Greg, was particularly friendly, and we spoke often about all things electronic, I considered him my best friend at the time, although I never told him so. As far as the adults in my life were concerned, he was by far my favorite.

Eventually, I gained the title of 'honorary employee' and had earned free reign of the store. Using the bathroom in the back office on afternoon, my orgasmic needs got the better of me, and I proceeded to relieve myself right there. At that age, it was easy. There was no cleanup to be done. A few quick rubs, a grunt and a squint, and I could go about my day. It was only after I had finished the deed that I caught a glimpse of the camera mounted to the ceiling. I wasn't surprised, only a little upset at possibly getting caught jerking off in my favorite store's bathroom. I pulled up my pants, unlocked the door and opened it. My greatest fear would have been getting banned from the store. As I walked out of the bathroom, I made my peace with the loard above, bargaining the devotion of my everlasting soul in return for not getting banned from my favorite place.

Greg was sitting at the office desk a few feet away. The sly smile on his face and the camera monitor on the desk in front of him were none too subtle hints that I had been caught.

"I can do that for you" Greg said to me as I stood in front of him.

I didn't know what to say. My short life hadn't quite prepared me to handle this specific social situation. I was torn between my addiction to orgasms and the fear of the unknown. I didn't really understand what he was offering. My head began to spin with the details of the predicament I had found myself int. Greg was easily 3 times my age. I hadn't considered myself gay. In fact, I hadn't considered myself anything. The thought of involving other people in my orgasms had yet to occur to me at all. If Greg did 'that' for me, would it feel good for him or me? Did that camera system record or was there no lasting evidence? I began to panic.

"And more" He interrupted internal struggle.

With this, Greg got up from the chair and walked toward me. I was frozen, still unsure as to the correct course of action. He ran his hand through my hair from front to back. Mom did this often, but this felt completely and absolutely different than that. His hand didn't linger. He walked away briskly. Making his way to the front door of the store, he flipped the 'Open' sign around, twisted the deadbolt with a metallic clack, and walked back to the rear of the store where a nervous, skinny, dorky looking boy stood, waiting for him.

The office of the store, where the desk was located was cluttered. The bits and parts scattered everywhere posed quite a hazard, especially on the desk. In retrospect, it wasn't a very safe working environment. Greg made quick work of that however, clearing the desk efficiently by swiping everything off one end of it and onto the floor.

"Are you a virgin?" The question surprised both of us. For me, it was a question I had never heard anyone ask. Greg realized to whome he was asking this question, and immediately followed with "Of course you are".

"Here, let's get these off of you" he said as he began to undress me. He pulled up at the bottom of my t-shirt. Oddly, and without even thinking, I lifted my arms and allowed him to remove it. I was on autopilot.

It wasn't cold in the store. Far from it. Still, I shuddered a little as the air touched my bare skin. I was beyond nervous, but at the same time excited.

Greg wasted no time. The button, then the zipper were opened, shoes untied. I soon stepped out of the rest of my clothes and stood there naked. Naked in front of an adult man who wanted to 'do that for me'. I still didn't really know what this meant, but I was being hopeful that it meant something along the lines of 'I get to have more orgasms'. He was pleasantly gentle. It was obvious he didn't want to harm me, but I would soon find out that his motives were not completely altruistic either. His hands roamed over my skin, exploring my pale body. I was completely hairless, not very well endowed, and completely hard. My small erection was tended to first by Greg's hands, then his mouth. He could fit my entire manhood.. boyhood rather, into his mouth at once. I immediately found myself instinctively thrusting ever so slightly as he sucked. His hands continued to explore, reaching around behind me to where I often explored myself.

I thought back to the variety of objects to penetrate myself. Pens, markers, hotdogs. I got more bold after a while and stepped up to things I found in the fridge. As Greg explored more, I spread my legs, allowing him better access. He used this access to insert a finger, then two, into my quivering body as I stood there, powerless to stop him, not that I would have if I could.

I almost screamed aloud in fear when he picked me up. It caught me completely by surprise. With a hand under each hairless armpit, he lifted me deftly into the air, spun around, and placed my naked butt on the recently cleared desk. His hands were quickly at my feet, lifting them into the air. I leaned back in compliance, resting my head on the desk while he brought his lips back to my small erection. He licked and sucked, then licked again. His tongue explored my sex thoroughly. I felt it as he penetrated my deeply with it; it was a sensation I had never felt before, and I liked it very much.

I opened myself to him, letting his tongue push deep into me while his hands worked to bring me to orgasm. I was losing myself in the moment, there, naked, in a relatively public place, being molested. I came hard. My whole body shook in one of those 'write it on the calendar' orgasms. I was sweating, I wanted more. I was so turned on, I was beside myself. My 10 year old brain wasn't working properly. I couldn't speak. More correctly, I couldn't find the words to describe what I wanted him to do to me. All I knew was.. More. I want more.

I shifted to one side to take the weight off of one arm. I had been holding myself up on my elbows, although I couldn't remember making the transition from lying flat with my head on the desk to being propped up. With one arm free, I wiped the sweat dripping into my eye, and looked at Greg. I watched as he undressed himself. It took very little time. Astonishingly little time.

He stood before me, naked. He wasn't hairless like me. He wasn't very hairy, but very obviously a grown man. His erection was also larger than mine. Much, much larger. It was larger than anything I had attempted prior, and the look in his eyes made me think that he could read this fact in my expression. I didn't care.

Greg must have used a lubricant. I'm almost certain of it, even though I didn't seem him do it. His manhood felt slick as he placed the tip against my hole. I shifted again on my elbows so I could see better. I wanted to watch him push into me. I wanted him to push into me. I wanted him in me. He obliged with all of his length. Not slowly, yet not fast, he pushed himself into the sweating hairless boy lying naked on the desk in front of him. His hands were on my hips, pulling me toward him just a little.

I don't know how big Greg was. I could guess any number between 5 and 8 inches, but it would only be a guess. It felt huge as he pulled my thin frame onto his pulsing member. I smiled when he pressed his public hair against my bald crotch. He was completely inside me and I loved it, but he wasn't moving. I'm not sure if this was an attempt to let me acclimate to his size, to prevent himself from having his own beautiful orgasm, or both. Most likely it was both, but I was having none of it. I wanted him to fuck me, and I didn't want him to be dainty about it.

Greg was a good lover, attentive, competent. He understood my body language as I rolled my hips backward to pull him just a little further into the depths of my body. At first, the strokes were short, pushing in slowly, pulling out slowly. It didn't take long for the strokes to get longer, for the pushing to get harder, for his grip to get tighter. My body trembled with another orgasm. I grabbed at his body in a vein attempt to pull him harder into me. I felt the most amazing fullness inside. His size compared to me was almost comical, yet he fit in me perfectly. Perfectly as far as I was concerned anyway. I wanted desperately to fell this fullness. Fullness to the point of almost-pain.

Then I felt that pain. It wasn't what I expected though. Greg was doing his best to pound the young toy that had landed on his desk and I was fully compliant, my very immature body experiencing the most wonderful feelings I had ever known. But there was a pain. I wasn't overwhelmed by it, just distracted. I wanted the pain to go away so that I could continue enjoying the experience. It wouldn't . I reached for it, blindly groping for the cause but before I found it, Greg thrust into me hard. Harder. Harder. His body shook and he erupted into the 65 pound quivering body with glasses. I could feel his seed inside me. I could feel him throbbing deep inside me with every pusle. I tried to pull him toward me, but my short arms couldn't reach. Spasm after spasm, Greg pumped every ounce of his seed into me, then he held still. As he held himself there, I felt something welling up inside me, building. The feeling was familiar. It was the beginnings of another orgasm.

A quick flash of fear ran though me as I looked down to see nothing at all touching my bouncing erection. Never before had I had an orgasm without any direct stimulation. It built quickly, the fear turning to joy as my body shuddered once more. My eyes grew wide as, for the first time ever, I watched a few drops of clear liquid shoot from my body. I was completely amazed.

A long minute passed and I could feel Greg start to shrink inside of me. It was an odd sensation as his shrinking member moved past the various parts of my internal anatomy. I felt empty, I wanted to be full again. I was shrinking too, although I didn't have very far to shrink, as it wasn't very big when it wasn't shrunk. I lay there naked, dizzy, sweaty, sore, happy. Greg looked down at me, bent over, and gave a silent kiss on the lips. Soon, he was dressed again.

I moved to the edge of the desk and placed a tentative toe onto the floor below, my leg buckled underneath me. Greg was there, helping me to my feet, hindered by the sweat, making my body difficult to hold. I turned to look at the desk, as if it deserved the blame. I saw it then, the cause of my pain. A very average pen was lying on the desk, covered in my sweat, obviously trapped beneath me during my adventure. Fucking pen.

As I stood there in front of him, I could only think of one word. More.