

                                         TEACHING SCOUT


                                                by John P

                                           Copyright© 2011



Chapter 1

Every day I go to the park and sit on the bench across from the
public toilets. My packed lunch consists of sandwiches with
various fillings and I take a plastic bottle of water which I get
from the shop on the corner close to where I live.

From this park bench, the world passes by and I watch with
interest the people who walk along, the parents with small kids,
boys and their girlfriends, and then there are the men who look
around nervously before going into the public toilets to meet
others and to give or obtain relief. Boys roam around the park in
groups and girls gather to eye up and rate those same boys from 1
to 10 and to wonder secretly what it would be like to be married
to them.

Kids are on bikes, on skateboards, often noisy with their zest
for life and I smile to myself at their joy. Then there are the
others. The 15-year-old girls who I imagine from their
expressions are wondering how to tell their parents that they are
pregnant. The young boys who ponder why they find the boys at
school so attractive when they see them in the showers and why
they get a boner each time.

Today I've just opened my sandwiches and I spot this boy who
walks past me, looking around as if expecting to see somebody,
and when he comes back again, he sits down despondently on the
other end of the bench I'm occupying. He doesn't look sad so much
as disappointed.

When I offer him a sandwich, those dark eyes of his turn towards
me and I see how handsome the kid is. Along with his regular
features, his dark hair and blemish-free complexion makes me look
more closely at him. I wonder briefly what his girlfriend looks
like.

"Thanks, mister," he says as he moves next to me and he takes a
sandwich from my packet.

We sit there and he looks around, still hopeful that whoever he
is expecting will come into view. We don't speak, comfortable
with each other as we sit in affable silence. When I offer a
second sandwich, I see those lovely dark eyes again and he grins
at last.

"Are you sure?" he asks, noting that there are few left in the
wrapper.

"I've finished, kid. Take what you like," I say, handing him the
packet. "I'm John, by the way."

"I'm Scout," he says and I watch with amusement as he wolfs down
what remains of my lunch.

Finally I ask, "Who are you waiting for?" and he looks
disappointed again.

"I was going to meet with my friend Peter but it looks like he's
not coming. He was going to show me some porn mags." As he says
this, his face reddens and I think he's just realised that I am a
stranger and maybe he shouldn't have told me.

"It's OK, Scout. I used to get them from somebody when I was your
age too. He used to get them from under his dad's bed. How old
are you, 13, 14?"

He relaxes and says, "13 but I'll be 14 in two months," and then
he adds, "Have you got any porn mags?" and when I answer yes, he
asks if he can see them.

"Sure," I say, "but they're at the house," and I point, "just
over there. Would you like to see them now?" and he nods,
thinking maybe that I'll get them and bring them back. When I
stand up and wait for him, he looks as if he doesn't understand
and then it dawns on him that I'm inviting him home with me.

I can see the calculations going on in his head. 'Don't go with
strangers. But he has porn and I need to play with my dick. Does
this man look OK or is he dangerous?' I suppose the answer must
have been a yes because he stood and we made for the exit.

As we entered my house, I said, "You want a drink? I got Pepsi or
juice." He answers Pepsi and I get a glass from the kitchen. When
I return, he's looking round the room and he spots a picture in a
frame.

"Who's that?" he asks and I answer, "That's my son, Carl. He's 12
now but he's out with his mother."

He takes a swig of Pepsi and I go upstairs to find the porn I
promised him. Looking through my collection, I decide on a mag
with adults and boys just touching each other, a relatively soft
porn mag which shouldn't scare the boy. When I go back downstairs
and give it to him, his face goes red as he sees the cover but he
opens it anyway and starts to peruse the pictures.

When he sees the first picture of a 10-year-old boy wanking a man
about 30, his eyes go wide and he gasps. I sit in another chair
opposite him, watching the effect the mag is having on him. From
here, I can also see the front of his pants and I'm waiting for
his erection to produce a tent in them. His fingers trace the
page, touching the boy's hand where he has grasped the man's
shaft. His eyes dart to the man's face and he sees the joy that
the boy's hand is giving him.

Scout has forgotten me now as his attention is fully focused on
the pages that he turns and he sees the man wanking the young boy
with two fingers, and he imagines the feeling of somebody else
touching him, a man's hand caressing him. The boy in the picture
looks happy, smiling up at the man as he is fondled. The man
looks down lovingly into the little boy's face, his eyes kind and
gentle.

"My uncle lived with us and he used to play with me when I was a
boy," I say softly and Scout looks up. "He used to sit me on his
lap when I was about 9, my back against his chest as we watched
TV in the early mornings. When Mom had gone to work, he would put
his hand inside my pajama bottoms and touch me. When he stroked
my little dick, it was the most wonderful feeling."

The boy looks at me, almost unbelieving. "Didn't you try to stop
him?" he asks.

"Why would I want to stop him?" I say. "It was the greatest
feeling ever. After that first time, I would jump on uncle's knee
as soon as Mom left the house so that he would do it again. He
used to stroke me until I was stiff and then I would tremble and
get a tickly feeling all through my belly. Then he used to hug me
real tight and kiss my head."

I can see Scout's pants tenting out and I so want to touch him
but I have to wait. "Has nobody ever done that for you? Made you
feel good?" I ask.

"No," he says and his face flushes. It is then that he softly
asks, "Will you show me?" and his face becomes beet-red.

"Sure, Scout. I'll be glad to. Just come on over and sit on my
lap," I say and, as he stands, I see more clearly the bulge of
his dick which is straining against the front of his pants.

As I place him with his legs outside mine, I realise that he will
feel my hard cock under his bottom and I'm afraid that he might
be scared but when I undo the button on his jeans and then lower
the zip, I feel him tremble slightly, no doubt nervous about what
is to happen. I touch his dick through his underpants and he
gasps at my touch. I stroke its length, feeling the thickness of
his shaft, and he sighs as my fingers move slowly up and down it.

"Feel good?" I whisper and he breathes, "Yes," and he relaxes
against my chest. My fingers go to the waistband of his
underpants and I push them down inside to feel his flesh. He
gasps as my fingers come into contact with his knob and I feel a
wetness there, no doubt some precum produced by his arousal. I
want to taste it but I have to go carefully so as not to spook
him so I content myself with smearing it around his knob.

He trembles again as my fingers find the most sensitive parts of
his dick and when I start to stroke three fingers along his
shaft, he moans. The shaft is quite thick for the boy's age, I
think, and it's about 4-inches long.

"You feel good, Scout. Your dick's lovely," I whisper but I'm not
sure he hears me. I grasp his dick a little more firmly and begin
to wank him in earnest.

His breathing becomes more rapid and I know that he will be
unable to last long but it's important that this first time goes
well. He moans often as I wank him and when I feel his body
stiffen, I wank him faster, hoping that his cum will not be a dry
one. I am not disappointed.

The boy groans and thrusts his hips up off my lap. My hand grasps
his jerking dick now and he cums over my hand and in his
underpants. The hot spunk splashes on my thumb and on his skin
above his spurting dick. As his body remains rigid, I hold him
tight with my other arm and kiss his hair. His orgasm makes his
hips buck and I do my best to hold him while my fingers keep
moving on his shaft.

Suddenly the orgasm ends and he collapses against my chest,
panting hard. I hold my hand still then, just holding his shaft
gently. Before I can react, he turns himself sideways and his arm
goes round my neck and he hugs me. I kiss his hair again and his
forehead as he snuggles against me and I listen to his breathing
becoming more regular.

"Was that OK, Scout?" I whisper into his ear and he mumbles,
"Mmmm," into my chest.

We stay there for a few minutes, him snuggling and me hugging. He
is in no hurry to vacate my lap and I bask in the boy's apparent
affection. This boy will be a good lover for somebody, I'm sure.
This is not just sex, it seems, but also an emotional feeling for
him. It is the same for me if I'm completely honest. I wonder
briefly if he will turn out hetro, gay or bisexual.

Unseen by him, when I remove my hand from his dick, I put my
thumb to my lips and lick off the boy-spunk which has splashed
onto it. How sweet it is! Then I put my other arm around him and
we just sit there. His breathing has become regular and has
slowed and I think that maybe he had gone to sleep but ten
minutes later, he rouses himself and looks into my face.

"Does it always feel good like that?" he asks softly and I nod.
"It was amazing!"

I want to kiss those full sensuous lips but I don't dare to in
case it freaks him out. Instead I kiss his forehead and wait for
him to make the next move. He moves off my lap and stands up,
dressing himself self-consciously. I remain seated, watching him
and saying nothing.

Once he is decent again, he looks at me red-faced and says he'd
better go. I rise too and say quietly, "I hope you want to do it
again. I know I do."

He smiles then and says, "Can I come here tomorrow? You know...
to do it again?" and I know that the boy will be mine.

"Of course you can, Scout," I say. "There's lots more too... if
you want to learn."

"Can I look at the porn books again?" he asks sheepishly and I
swat him playfully. "Tomorrow you can, dirty boy!" and I smile at
him.

I walk him to the door and I'm surprised when he hugs me. "See
you tomorrow then," he says and I open the door to let him out.

As I watch him walk up the road, I get out my stiff cock and wank
it there in front of the window. It does not take more than 20 seconds
before I am spewing my spunk all over the wallpaper and the floor
below. That boy is having an effect on me and I don't feel guilty
about it.



ALL my stories can be found here:
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/John_P/
