Boy Love (Mb; con; mast; oral)
By Neverlander
(c) October 2005

It started with his overbite.  Crazy, I know, but there it is: it was 
his mouth with its little overbite that first caught my attention.  It 
wasn't pronounced, by any means; his upper lip was just a little 
forward of the lower when they were parted.  I don't know why that 
should have attracted me, but it did -- it somehow made him look 
tremulous, vulnerable.

Our meeting was pure chance; it took me unaware, and it changed my 
life.  It was the beginning of new excitements, new pleasures, and a 
kindling of desires I didn't know I had.

I saw him hitchhiking while I was on my way to the mountains last 
summer.  All by himself, hesitant about sticking his thumb out, 
fearful, shy.  My first impulse was protective, it really was, he 
looked so small and alone.  What was he doing out here all by himself -- 
a runaway, perhaps?  Was he in trouble, in danger?  So I stopped.  My 
usual rule about hitchhikers didn't apply; he was obviously no threat.

"Hey, little man, how are you doing?" I asked as he opened the door and 
climbed in.  "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, I'm OK," he said, "thanks a lot for stopping.  Nobody wanted to 
pick me up."

His voice was soft and gentle, and slightly breathless.  Slight 
southern accent, maybe Virginia; very polite -- what was he doing up 
here in the North Country?  He seemed tired, and very happy to be off 
the road.  He leaned back in the seat and sighed.  "I was out there for 
a long time," he added, "it was getting really hot."

He was right, it was hot.  That was one of the reasons I was looking 
forward to spending a few days at high altitude, among the lakes in the 
cooler north woods.  I had a tent, enough food for a week, and a pile 
of books I was looking forward to digging into.

"So, where are you headed?" I asked him.  "Have far to go?"

He hesitated before he answered.  "I'm going to my Aunt's, I guess.  
It's pretty far -- I'm not sure."

A runaway, I affirmed to myself.  He seemed not to want to talk about 
where he had come from, so I didn't press him.  He was actually lucky I 
had picked him up, because he was woefully unprepared for rough travel 
-- dressed just in loose shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers, no baggage of 
any kind.  I looked him over as he lay back with his eyes closed, 
evidently exhausted.  Right from the start I found this boy striking, 
like a pretty girl, actually: lovely blue eyes with long lashes, slim 
body, pleasing mouth. His long blonde hair, falling almost to his 
shoulders, was from another time, a flower child.

He opened his eyes and yawned, looking out the side window.  Then he 
put his head back on the head-rest, relaxed.

"So what should I call you?" I asked.  "I'm Tim."

He turned his head towards me and smiled.  "I'm Jason," he said.  "I'm 
very pleased to meet you."

I smiled back.  He was so polite, the perfect little gentleman, so 
unlike the sullen, frightened rabbits many children his age seem to be.

"And I, sir," I responded with playful pomp, "am charmed beyond measure 
to make your most delightful acquaintance!  I trust you will enjoy your 
sojourn in this, my humble rolling abode!"

"You're funny," he giggled.  "I didn't understand half of what you just 
said!"   His laugh was musical and unaffected, immediately endearing.  
"People sure don't talk like that at -- at home."

The way he hesitated -- "at home" -- indicated to me that this boy had a 
history, and probably not a happy one.  I did find out more about him 
later, but right now I felt again that he wouldn't want to talk about 
it, not with the stranger I was at that point.

We rode for a while in silence.  Then he noticed my gear in the back 
seat, and turned to look at it.

"Wow!  What's all this stuff?" he asked.  "Is that a sleeping bag?"

"Yes," I replied, "sure is.  I'm heading up into the mountains for a 
few days -- do some hiking, swimming, just hang out in the woods for a 
while."

"Oh, that's so cool!" he said excitedly.  "Aren't you afraid, are there 
bears and stuff?"

"Well, you do have to be careful," I said seriously.  "There are 
grizzlies -- you've heard of them?"

He swallowed hard.  "Uh huh," he said, "they're real big, right?"

"Oh yeah," I said, "really big.  Yes, grizzlies and polar bears -- 
dangerous critters, all right; and sometimes tigers..."

He blinked and frowned at me.  "Tigers ...?  Wait -- you're kidding me, 
right?  You are, aren't you!"

I looked at him with earnest seriousness, but I couldn't hold it.  "You 
got me!" I laughed.  "Yes, I'm kidding you.  Actually, there's nothing 
to be afraid of around here."

He pouted and crossed his arms, suppressing a smile.  "I knew there are 
no tigers here.  And no polar bears either."

"Well, there are bears sometimes," I said, "but they're just black 
bears, very timid.   They're more afraid of you than you are of them.  
It's very peaceful up there -- that's what I like about it."

"But do you actually sleep overnight outside, all alone in the woods?" 
he asked.  "I'd be scared, I think.  I bet it's real dark."

He continued to shower me with questions about camping, which seemed to 
fascinate him.  It was actually fun for me to talk to him about it, 
because he was so excited, and I guess because I'm a teacher at heart.  
Sharing my experiences and stories with him was very enjoyable.

While he was listening to me he had turned in his seat, and was sitting 
with his left leg under him and his right foot on the floor.  Glancing 
down between his legs, I was able to see his white underwear peeking 
through the cuff of his shorts.  Cute, I thought to myself -- he's so 
pretty it's easy to forget he's a boy.  I wonder what he's like under 
those shorts...

Surprised by my train of thought, I forced myself to look away.  "So, 
how old are you, Jason?  Have you never been camping before, in the Boy 
Scouts maybe?"

"I'm almost thirteen.  No, I was never in Boy Scouts, and I never lived 
in the country, not real wild country anyways.  I've always wanted to 
go hiking, though, see mountains and caves and stuff.  Like you see on 
TV sometimes."

The idea insinuated itself into my mind slowly; I saw it coming and I 
tried to deflect it -- no no no, I said to myself, that's crazy, that's 
trouble, put it out of your head, Tim!  But it just kept coming ...

"Listen, Jason," I heard myself saying, "I get the impression that 
you're not really in a hurry to get to where you're going, so ... so I 
just wondered if you might be interested in coming along with me up to 
the mountains.  I have plenty of food and my tent is big enough for two 
-- I'd enjoy the company.  What do you say?  That something you'd like 
to do?  I don't want you to feel uncomfortable -- I'd understand 
completely if you'd rather not."

His eyes became bigger than saucers and his jaw dropped.  "You mean it?  
I could really do that?  I don't want to be any trouble, you're sure 
that would be all right?"

It was gratifying to see how happy and excited my offer made him.  
"Sure I mean it," I said.  "A boy your age should experience the 
outdoors.  It would be good for you."  And that's true, I told myself, 
the poor kid has never had an experience like that, and it's a good 
thing that I'm doing, offering to be his guide.  And maybe it would be 
good for me too; instead of being alone as usual I'd have some company.  
I had to admit I was looking forward to spending more time with this 
charming boy.

And he was excited -- oh my, was he excited!  His questions came in a 
torrent, about where we were going, what were the mountains like, were 
there any wild animals -- and, "are we there yet?" many times (he was a 
kid, after all!).  He literally could not sit still.  For my part, 
having made the decision, I had some practical matters to attend to.  I 
in fact did have most of what was needed for two; I had brought plenty 
of food, my tent was roomy for one, cozy for two.  A possible issue was 
my sleeping bag -- I only had one, but I also had a sheet and a light 
blanket that I sometimes used during hot weather.  Two would fit on the 
bag if it were lying open, and the sheet would cover us; yes, I 
thought, that would be much better than each of us wrapped and isolated 
in a separate bag -- especially if the nights were warm, as seemed 
likely, when we really wouldn't want to have anything covering us at 
all.  Yes, I thought, good plan.

His lack of clothing was an issue, though.  It sometimes got cool where 
we were going, and his shorts and t-shirt weren't going to cut it.  So 
we stopped in the town just before the National Forest entrance, where 
there was a pretty good outfitter's shop.  I bought him a thermal pull-
over shirt and some sweat pants for the evening, as well as a small 
day-pack so he could help a bit with carrying our gear.  He couldn't 
believe I was doing this for him, and seemed a little embarrassed to be 
accepting gifts from me.  But assured him that I was happy to do it, 
and that I enjoyed his company.  I was looking forward to this week 
more and more.

* * * * *

The hike in from the trailhead parking lot was only about three miles, 
but it took a couple of hours since it involved some bushwhacking off 
of the main trail.  I had discovered this spot at the far end of the 
lake years ago.  It was a perfect tenting spot in a secluded cove, 
totally unfrequented by anyone else, as far as I knew.  Jason had done 
very well; I had loaded him up with a few of the things I normally 
didn't have with me (like the clothing I had bought for him), and he 
sailed along with no problems.  He was so excited I think I could have 
put fifty pounds on his back and he wouldn't have noticed!

We unpacked some of our gear, and I had him help me set up the tent.  
This fascinated him, as the flimsy mass of nylon suddenly became our 
cozy shelter.  I put foam sleeping pads on the floor, over which I 
spread my open sleeping bag.  It was filled with goose down, and had a 
luxurious fluff to it, luxurious by backwoods standards, at any rate.  
Jason immediately climbed into the tent and lay in our nylon bower, 
trying it out.  He was absolutely ecstatic.  When I managed to shoo him 
out I threw in a couple of small pillows and arranged a sheet and light 
blanket on top of the bag.

After we set up camp I took him on a walk up a nearby prominence where 
there was a nice view down the lake and of the mountains beyond.  He 
loved it, especially when I pointed out blueberries that were growing 
along the way -- he grazed the whole way back down the hill.

We were hot and sweaty when we got back to camp, so I suggested a swim.  
I had considered buying him a swim suit, but decided he really didn't 
need one.  I never packed one for myself when I came out here.

I sat down to remove my shoes.  He looked at the water a little 
uncertainly.  "So, what do we wear?" he asked.  "Do we just wear our 
shorts in?"

"Of course not," I said, smiling.  "We don't need bathing suits out 
here.  After all, it's just us guys, right?"

He beamed with delight.  "Right!" he said.  "Oh, this is so neat!"

We both set about undressing. I got my shorts and shirt off quickly and 
stood watching him as he followed suit.  His shirt came off first, and 
I saw that he was a well-formed boy -- not fully muscled yet, but 
slender and smooth, with feminine grace.  He pushed down his shorts and 
underwear, while I continued to watch.  His back was to me when he 
kicked his shorts aside, so I had a view of his firm, shapely bottom.  
His buttocks were white in contrast to his tanned legs and back, and 
there was still a hint of that charming baby-crease where they met the 
tops of his legs.   He was totally smooth, with just a hint of blonde 
downiness on his arms and legs.

When he turned around I looked down at his young penis, circumcised 
like me, but hairless, popping out between his slender thighs, its 
little cleft head bobbing slightly to the left of his smooth scrotum.  
It was much smaller than mine, of course, but was in fact somewhat 
larger than I had expected.  An image of him masturbating flashed 
through my mind -- has he learned to do that yet? I wondered to myself.  
He shook the hair out of his face and looked at me expectantly.
"Ready?" I asked.  He grinned.  "OK," I said, "last one in's a ..."

"A rotten egg!" he giggled excitedly, and dashed into the water ahead 
of me.

We had a great time splashing around, for the better part of an hour.  
He was a very agile swimmer, and delighted in diving and swimming 
underwater for surprising distances, surfacing where I least expected 
it.  Occasionally he would surprise me by coming up right in front of 
me, or brushing by me underwater, tickling my legs as he went by.  
Sometimes I was able to retaliate by catching him by the feet as he 
slithered by and pulling him back.  I'd hold his feet under my arms and 
watch his shiny little butt flex and twist as he tried to escape -- then 
I'd send him on his way with a pinch on the bottom.

Finally, I noticed that his lips were getting blue and he was starting 
to shiver.  "Oh, look at you," I called to him.  "You're going to catch 
cold -- come over here and I'll warm you up."

He immediately swam over to me, and I lifted him and embraced him to my 
chest.  I wrapped my arms around him to impart some of my warmth to his 
slender torso, while he clung to me with his arms around my neck and 
his legs wrapped around my back, shivering.  I could feel his genitals 
pressing into my stomach; he sighed contentedly as he warmed up.

"This is so much fun," he murmured.  "I'm really glad you brought me 
here.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He gave me a hard little hug, then drew back his head and looked at me.  
Hesitantly, he inclined his head and kissed me full on the mouth.  It 
was a soft, gentle kiss of gratitude, but it affected me strangely, 
though not unpleasantly.  I didn't know how to respond, but my heart 
was racing.

"We better go in now, Jason," I said, my voice suddenly a bit hoarse, 
"I don't want you to catch cold."

"OK, whatever you say," he responded, smiling contentedly.  "This is 
such a great day!"

I carried him out of the water, his legs still wrapped around me.  As I 
gently lowered him to his feet, he brushed against my cock, which to my 
consternation had begun to swell, just a little, but noticeably.  He 
didn't say anything, but flushed slightly, as he made his way up the 
bank.

It was late afternoon, so I set about getting things ready for the 
evening.  I told him to get himself dried off, and then we could get a 
campfire going.  As I rummaged in my pack for makings for dinner, Jason 
lay down on a broad rock at the water's edge.  The rays of the low sun 
were golden, and they illuminated his body in sharp relief as he lay 
nude in the open air.  One arm was relaxed at his side, the other 
raised with a forearm resting above his brow.  His left knee was raised 
and bent, so that his penis lay along the top of his right thigh.  He 
looked like a recumbent Grecian statue.  I found it difficult to 
concentrate on what I was doing; I couldn't get over how lovely he was, 
and I was amazed at the effect he was having on me.  My eyes lingered 
on his body: his perfect limbs, his flat stomach, those gentle lips 
that had just kissed me so tenderly, and ... I caught myself when I 
realized that my gaze had fixed on his young penis.  My god, I thought, 
what is happening to me?

When he was dry, his hair flaxen once more, he pulled his shirt and 
shorts back on, and clamored to be allowed to help with the fire.  I 
showed him the kind of wood we'd need for kindling, and he scampered 
about to gather some sticks. I smiled at his enthusiasm; he was a joy, 
so eager.

* * * * *

Later, after we had eaten and cleaned up, Jason and I sat quietly on a 
log by the fire.  He was pressed up close to me, with his head on my 
shoulder.  I looked into the flames, astonished by the way this day had 
turned out.  This morning I was setting out for a week of solitary 
contemplation; now, in the evening of the same day, I was sitting in 
warm contact with a twelve-year-old boy I was becoming entirely too 
fond of!  Less than ten hours after meeting this boy I was becoming 
confused by unfamiliar thoughts and feelings that amounted to a 
challenge to my identity:  I'm a man, I said to myself, an adult, 
straight man!  I'm not gay, or bi-sexual, or a pedophile, I'm...  Oh, 
hell, I don't know what I am!

I put my arm around his shoulder, and he cuddled up to me with a 
contented sigh, his cheek against my chest.  To hell with analysis, I 
thought, just let me enjoy this for a little while.  The emotions I was 
feeling were disturbing -- but also exciting and thrilling.  I wanted to 
see where they led...

After a few minutes I became aware of a gentle snoring -- Jason had 
evidently dozed off.  Poor kid!  This had been an exciting day for him, 
he was exhausted.

"Come on, kiddo, time to hit the hay," I said, gently stirring him.

"Hmm, wha -- oh, OK Tim," he responded drowsily.  "I'm so sleepy..."

I helped him to his feet and led him to the tent.  I had him sit inside 
with his feet out the entrance so I could remove his shoes and shake 
them off.  Then I joined him inside and turned on a small hanging 
flashlight.

He was almost asleep again, so I moved quickly to undress him, first 
pulling his shirt over his head, then removing his sweat pants.  He was 
now completely naked, lying stretched out on his back next to me.  He 
had fallen asleep again, and was breathing gently.  I quickly got my 
clothes off and knelt looking down at the sleeping boy.  After 
lingering for a moment, I spread the sheet over him.

I turned off the light and got in under the sheet next to him.  He 
murmured softly in his sleep, and curled up with his back to me.  I 
moved closer and put my arm around him.  His back was cool against my 
chest, and I breathed in the scent of his skin and hair as I listened 
to the night sounds.  Owls were calling softly as they awoke, and far 
across the lake a loon keened mournfully.  Finally, I, too, fell 
asleep.

* * * * *

First light: early sun shining through the trees, dappling the tent 
with moving shadows of leaves; birds twittering in profusion, and the 
occasional drone of a passing bumblebee.  During the night dew had 
collected on the outer fly of the tent, but inside all was dry.  After 
the coolness of the night the interior was warming in the sunlight.

As I awoke it took me a few seconds to realize where I was.  When 
awareness came, I turned and gazed at the young boy asleep next to me.  
He was lying on his stomach, breathing softly through parted lips.  I 
sat up and gently lowered the sheet to the foot of the tent.

I looked at his sweet form, at his tanned back and his smooth white 
bottom, and along his graceful legs.  I lay back down beside him and 
began to rub his back, enjoying the smoothness of his skin under my 
hand.

He awakened gradually, and stretched his arms towards the head of the 
tent.

"Mmm, that feels good," he murmured.  "I like that."

I continued to massage his back, my hand gradually moving lower towards 
his firm little bottom.  I hesitated before going further, since I 
didn't know how he would react.  When I proceeded, however, he didn't 
protest, so I set to gently stroking the cheeks of his bum, cupping my 
hand over each in turn, giving a little squeeze.

I began now to scratch his back lightly, running from his pale bottom 
up along his back, moving slowly up and down several times, eventually 
covering every inch from his shoulders to the backs of his thighs.  He 
murmured in pleasure, and stretched like a cat, turning away from me on 
his side and raising an arm to present his ribs to my fingernails.  I 
complied, and very lightly scratched up and down along his side, 
eliciting little coos and moans of pleasure.  He had totally abandoned 
himself to sensual delight.  This boy is a born hedonist, I thought to 
myself -- he so enjoys his pleasures!

After about a minute he turned himself over to face me and lifted his 
other arm.  He closed his eyes and smiled as I continued to scratch 
along his ribs.  I looked down the front of his body, past his slightly 
rounded navel, and along his legs and hips.  His legs were held tightly 
together, which pushed his penis and testicles prominently forward.  I 
compared them with mine, which were similarly displayed a few inches 
away -- his, so smooth and fresh and pink, and mine, much larger, 
darker, crouching in a hairy nest.  I had another daydream of him 
touching himself -- I wonder if he enjoys that?  I wonder what his 
little cock and balls feel like?  I looked back up at his face, his 
eyes closed, blissfully unaware of my ruminations.

Once again disturbed by my train of thought, I sought to snap myself 
out of it.  I sat up and reached around to give him a playful pat on 
the butt.

"Come on, sleepyhead," I said, "let's see what's happening out in the 
world!"

He turned back on his stomach and stretched again.

"But it's so nice here -- that felt so good!"

"There'll be time for more of that later, me bucko.  But right now, the 
day's a-wastin'!"

* * * * *

After breakfast we lolled around for a while deciding what to do.  It 
was looking to be another fine day so I suggested a hike around the 
lake.  It was a fairly long trail (just under ten miles) but it was 
level for the most part, so I judged that it shouldn't be too taxing 
for Jason.

So, we filtered some water and popped something for lunch into our 
packs, and off we went.  A great day -- it took us a while to bushwhack 
back to the main trail, but after that it was easy going.  We actually 
saw some moose grazing in a swamp the trail skirted -- Jason was really 
excited by that, but he stayed very close to me for a while afterwards.  
City kid.

We had lunch on some rocks by the lake, and afterwards took a dip to 
cool off.  We took off our clothes and stretched out to dry in the sun.  
Jason invented a game.  He got down at my feet facing me, and pressed 
the soles of his feet against mine.  Then, propping himself up on his 
elbows, he said, "Try to follow my feet."  The idea was for me to keep 
my feet pressed against his and follow him as he moved them all around.  
So we went at it, moving our legs from side to side and up and down, or 
pumping like riding a bicycle.  He'd move slowly and then change 
direction suddenly after a feint, giggling excitedly as I tried to 
follow his moves.  Lying on our backs like that with our legs apart 
most of the time resulted in revealing views between each other's legs.  
Especially at those times when we weren't moving quickly, and I was 
aware of the soles of his small feet pressing into mine, moving his 
toes around to tickle me, I found that I was taking some pretty long 
looks at his young cock.  I could see that he was looking at mine, too, 
which was particularly disconcerting since I was afraid I was starting 
to get an erection.  He showed no signs of wanting to stop our game, 
but just kept his feet pressed to mine and giggling; and I kept getting 
bigger...

After about ten minutes we were surprised by voices: "Hold on a minute, 
girls, wait there..."  It was a woman's voice.  I sat up and grabbed my 
shorts.  While I struggled to get them on, I saw two women who had just 
appeared on the trail leading to the water.

"Uh, sorry about that, ladies," I said as I made myself decent.  Jason 
was also hastily getting himself dressed.

"Oh, no problem," said one of the women, "sorry to have disturbed you.  
Lovely spot for a sunbath ... OK, girls you can come ahead, now."

Almost immediately two teenaged girls of about fifteen or sixteen 
appeared on the trail behind their mothers.  They stopped up short when 
they saw us, evidently guessing why they had been told to wait.  The 
second woman frowned at them when they started to giggle.

I laughed.  "I guess we were not the kind of waterfowl you expected to 
find here," I said.  "We weren't expecting company."

They smiled and sat down nearby, and we chatted for a while.  They had 
come from a campground at the end of the lake, and were following the 
same trail we were, but in the opposite direction.  While I was talking 
with the women, their daughters were giggling and whispering to each 
other, as they looked frequently toward Jason.  They seemed to be 
fascinated by my little long-haired "hippie" friend.  For his part, he 
was squirming uncomfortably under their scrutiny, and refused any eye 
contact.  Finally they went over to him and tried to engage him in 
conversation, but all they got for their troubles were sullen one-word 
answers to their questions.  I don't think it really mattered to them, 
though.  They treated him like a cute puppy they wanted to play with 
and tease.

We bid the ladies good-bye after about fifteen minutes, and continued 
on our way.  I ribbed him a little about the girls.

"Well, those were some very pretty admirers you had back there, guy.  
What do you think of that?"

"Dumb girls," he grumbled.

"Oho!  Really!  Well, you better get used to it m'boy, because when you 
get older you're going to need a fly swatter to keep the girls off you!  
You're a very attractive young man, you know."

"They were just making fun of my hair," he said.  "They were bratty and 
mean."

I laughed.  "Yeah, well, I suppose girls can be like that sometimes.  
If they were making fun of your hair that means they liked it.  I do 
too."

"Why'd they have to be here anyway?  We were having fun."

"Well, this is a public lake, you know."

"Dumb girls."

I smiled and let the matter drop.  He had no idea of the effect he had 
on people.  I noticed that even the girls' mothers had been looking at 
him admiringly.

* * * * *

We arrived back at camp in late afternoon.  Jason was hot and tired, so 
without waiting for me he headed for the water, shedding his clothes as 
he went.  I went about getting our things in order, and let him play by 
himself for a while.  He had been unusually quiet since our encounter 
with the girls and their mothers.  He seemed to be out of sorts; not 
angry, exactly, but not in his usual ebullient spirits.

After a few minutes I joined him in the water, walking out to where it 
was chest-deep on me.  He swam over to me, and made a couple of circles 
around me, doing the dog-paddle.

"I liked our game," he said.  He dove under the water, and popped back 
up.  "I thought it was fun."

"I did too," I replied.

"That's why I got mad.  About the girls, I mean."  He did a backwards 
somersault in the water, then paddled around some more.  "I wasn't mad 
at you."

"I know you weren't," I said.  "It's cool."

He splashed me, and ducked when I splashed back.  Grinning, he took my 
hands and raised his feet, sticking them out of the water.

"Let's try it in the water," he said eagerly, indicating that he wanted 
to try to continue our game aquatically.

I raised my feet and put them against his, but it was evident very 
quickly that it wasn't going to work -- we both sank immediately.

We laughed, and he bobbed next to me for a few seconds, treading water.  
Then he leaned back floating, and spread his arms.  His legs began to 
sink.

"Hold me up," he directed.

I put my arms under him, and lifted his legs until he was horizontal.  
He smiled and held his body straight and still, with his arms extended.  
I was holding him so that he was just breaking the surface of the 
water.  His penis was withdrawn, looking like a little hazelnut in the 
cold water, and his balls were tight.  I had given up chiding myself 
for looking at him; I enjoyed it -- so what?

I moved my right hand from under his knees to his bottom, shifting my 
left arm under his back to keep him balanced in the water.  I gently 
caressed his cheeks while he floated placidly in front of me.  I felt a 
stirring between my legs; que sera, I said to myself.

Suddenly he flipped himself over in the water so that he was lying on 
his stomach.

"Help me float like this," he said.

My left arm was supporting his chest, and my right hand was now 
directly on his penis.  I didn't move it away.  I looked down at him as 
he rested on my hands.  He was holding his legs together and straight 
with pointed toes, and ripples of water sloshed between his slick 
buttocks.  For long seconds I held him still, then began to carry him 
through the water like a slowly gliding plane.  I was acutely aware of 
his little cock in the palm of my hand, and my thumb on his tight 
scrotum.  He spread his arms and grinned.

"Look at me," he said, "I'm flying -- I'm a flying fish!"

We both laughed, and I continued to move him through the water for a 
several more minutes.  I kept my hand where it was, and I felt my 
erection growing.  My compunctions were rapidly deserting me.

"I'm hungry; how about you?" I said to him.  "Want some dinner?"

"Yes!" he replied.  "Me too!"

I released him and he swam rapidly ashore.  I followed him walking, and 
as I emerged from the water I didn't attempt to hide my partial 
erection -- it had risen only halfway, but was definitely engorged.  
Jason glanced at it briefly, then ran behind me and put his hands on my 
naked butt, pushing me up the grassy embankment toward our camp.

"Dinner, dinner, hungry, hungry!" he chanted, his happy self once more.

* * * * *

After dinner we sat by the fire again, sitting very close as on the 
previous night.

"So, you having a good time, little guy?  You glad you came?"

Without a word he got up and faced me, and straddled my lap.  He rested 
his chin on my shoulder and put his arms around my neck.

"Yes," he whispered.  "I really, really like you, Tim.  I love being 
here with you."

It was so unusual to hear a boy express affection so openly that it 
could have been unnerving to hear him speak like that to me.  As it 
was, however, I was becoming so enamored of him that I felt a surge of 
joy when he said it.

"I'm glad, Jason," I said, returning his hug, "I'm very glad you're 
with me."  He looked into my eyes, and this time it was I who initiated 
a kiss, a very soft, warm, gentle kiss.  He sighed and whimpered a 
little, then drew back and leaned forward again, to place repeated 
little kisses along my lips, slowly, from side to side.  He put his 
arms around my neck again, and whispered into my ear.

"The walk made me tired, Tim -- can we go into the tent now?"

"Sure, little guy -- let's go to bed."

I picked him up and carried him to the tent.  He held to me with his 
arms wrapped around my neck and his legs around my waist.  He was light 
as a feather and warm and yielding.  I liked how he felt; as I carried 
him I moved my hand down his back and patted his bottom.  My 
inhibitions were disappearing into the settling darkness.

In the tent I set up the light and watched him undress.  I no longer 
tried to deceive myself -- it excited me to see him nude.  His gender, 
his age no longer seemed to matter; it was a mystery to me.  My libido 
simply responded to him.  I surrendered.

He lay on his back smiling at me while I undressed.  Then he flipped 
over onto his stomach and looked back at me.

"Would you give me a backrub, please?" he pleaded.  "Like this 
morning?"

"Sure," I said.  "I guess you earned it, after the work-out I put you 
through today!"

I moved over him and straddled his legs, facing towards his head.  I 
started by gently moving my hands down his sides to his hips.  Then I 
began to massage him methodically, kneading the muscles on either side 
of his spine with my thumbs, from his neck down to the small of his 
back.  I alternated this with drawing all my fingers down over his back 
with firm pressure, from his shoulders to his buttocks, repeated 
several times.

While I was massaging him, I lowered myself from kneeling until I was 
sitting lightly on the backs of his legs.  My cock was lightly touching 
his bottom, and moved slightly in the cleft of his white cheeks as my 
hands moved over his back.  It started to rise immediately, and in less 
than a minute I had a full erection, curving almost vertically upright.  
I'm lost, I thought -- I just can't help it.  I wanted so much to give 
this boy pleasure, to teach him to enjoy it -- and to need it.

I moved to lie next to him and began to run my fingertips up and down 
his back.  I caressed his bottom, then continued down the backs of his 
legs, gently caressing as I went.  When I reached his ankles, I began 
the trip back up, drawing my fingertips along his skin, softly stroking 
upwards, alternating from one leg to the other.  As I neared his 
bottom, his legs parted slightly.  I smiled; I don't think he was 
actually aware that he had done that, but was just reacting 
automatically as I approached sensitive parts of his body.  I reached 
lower down and ran my fingertips upwards on the inside of his thighs 
almost to his crotch, then continued back over his bottom.  My 
fingertips traced paths over his buttocks, and slightly into the cleft 
between them, up and down several times.  I could only guess at what 
this was doing to him; for my part, I knew I was getting very excited -- 
my cock was rigid.

Gradually I began to move my hand towards the front of his body.  He 
seemed to understand instinctively what I wanted, and turned on his 
back, stretching both hands over his head.  I began stroking his chest 
and stomach, but now the most sensitive part of his body was in sight 
and within range of my hand.  On some level I think he realized this, 
too, for he closed his eyes and began to breathe more rapidly.  This is 
getting interesting, I thought to myself -- he's becoming excited.

I watched his face as I continued to caress his stomach, gradually 
moving lower.  His lips were parted, and he seemed expectant, waiting.  
I looked down at his penis, and I saw that it was stirring a little on 
its own.  Oh, yes, he's enjoying this, I thought to myself.  His little 
cock is getting turned on.  It wasn't long before he was fully erect, 
extending upwards along his flat stomach.  It was only about four 
inches long, but definitely hard and excited.  I was fascinated by his 
miniature cock, so similar to my own save for its smaller size.  The 
shaft rising up from his tightening balls was rigid.  The ridge running 
up the underside led to a V of loose skin just below the head, the 
"sweet spot" of extreme erotic sensitivity; the point of the V extended 
into the cleft of his swollen knob, shiny and pink with the straining 
of his erection.  It thrilled me to think of the pleasure I could give 
him, since I knew from long experience just how and where to touch.

I decided to go a little further.  I reached down and caressed his 
inner thighs with my fingertips, making just the slightest "accidental" 
contact with his balls.  I studied his face for a reaction; his eyes 
were still closed, and the tip of his tongue was pressed against his 
front teeth and upper lip.  He had a little frown of frustration and 
anticipation.  I decided to take a chance:  I reached down between his 
legs and slowly raked my fingertips up his balls from below, and then 
up along the underside of his shaft to the head.

His eyes opened wide, and he exhaled in surprise.  "Oh! Oh, Tim -- 
ohhhhh!"  I continued to stroke his little erection, running a finger 
up and down each side of his shaft, then flicking it up the underside 
to the head.  He closed his eyes and whimpered in pleasure.

That was all I needed.  I set to running my fingers up and down his 
cock, rapidly and lightly, brushing his balls with my fingertips, 
feathering up the underside to the head, making sure I flicked the 
sensitive little sweet spot just below it.  I smiled while my hand 
moved all over his excited penis, enjoying his reactions to the 
helpless pleasure I was inflicting on him.  He was moaning and sighing 
in ecstasy.

"Do you like that, Jason?" I whispered softly to him.

"Ohhhh, yes!  That feels so good, Tim, I like it..."

"Are you sure, Jason?  I can stop if you want me to -- do you want me to 
stop?"  I withdrew my hand, deliberately teasing him.  He squirmed in 
frustration.

"Ohhh no, please don't stop, ohhh...."

"Do you want more, Jason?  Would you like me to keep touching you like 
this?"  I resumed stroking, with a single slow finger.

"Yes!  Yes!  Ohhhh it feels so good, I love it, I love you Tim, oh 
please don't stop, please..."

I smiled down at him.  "Get ready Jason -- you're going to love this..."

I proceeded to masturbate him, slowly and sensuously.  I started by 
running a single finger up and down the underside of his cock, making 
it twitch and throb with pleasure.  Occasionally I took the head in my 
fingertips and gave it little squeezes, enjoying its turgid sponginess.  
I explored its shape, running a fingertip around the crown, into the 
cleft and up to his urethra.  I smiled at him, and told him what a 
pretty little prick he had.

I added more teasing fingertips, feathering lightly and rapidly up and 
down his shaft.  He was moaning in pleasure and urgency, which made me 
want to tease him all the more, to get him uncontrollably worked up.  
It was delicious to watch his expressive face, to see the lust and need 
my hand was causing in him.  I was incredibly excited by what I was 
doing to him; my cock was standing at rigid attention while I worked on 
tormenting his.  The thought that this was probably the first time he 
had experienced masturbatory pleasure of such intensity, and that I was 
the one doing it to him, made me dizzy with excitement.

"Ohhh, Jason, does it feel good, little guy?  Your beautiful cock is so 
nice and hard -- do you like what I'm doing to it?"  He looked 
helplessly into my eyes, unable to respond through his sighs and moans.  
I smiled and bent down to kiss his lovely mouth, flicking the tip of my 
tongue between his lips.  While I was kissing him I reached down 
between his legs, which he spread wide for me, and gently caressed his 
balls, slowly drawing up my hand and lightly tickling his scrotum with 
my fingertips.  As I gently teased his balls with four fingers, my 
thumb reached up and lightly flicked below the head.  My hand moved 
slowly up and down, pleasuring several of his most sensitive areas 
simultaneously.  I kept my touch light, just enough to tease him along 
and make him ache for more.  His urgent whimpering told me I was 
succeeding in that.

I wanted to make this last for as long as possible, so after a while I 
removed my hand from his cock and gently caressed his stomach.  I 
kissed his cheeks and forehead, and smiled into his eyes.

"Have you ever done this to yourself, Jason?  Made yourself feel good 
like this?"  I took his cock in my hand and wrapped my fingers around 
it.  I began to masturbate it with tiny strokes, just about a quarter 
of an inch up and down, very, very slowly.  I loved the feeling of his 
warm erection in my hand, so smooth and delicate; and I wanted to keep 
him hard and gently pleasured as I talked to him.

"A little," he replied breathlessly.  "I touch myself sometimes -- it 
feels nice, sort of tingly -- but never like this -- ohhh Tim you make me 
feel so good!"

I smiled.  "I'm glad, Jason -- I love doing this to you.  Tell me, 
little guy, when you make yourself 'tingly', do you ever go all the way 
-- to the end?"

He hesitated.  "I ... I don't know -- what's the end?"

I felt a thrill pass through my body as my heart quickened -- the little 
throbbing cock I was gently stroking was virginal, and I was going to 
give it its first orgasm -- oh my god, this is so wonderful, I thought 
to myself; it's going to be delicious to watch him come!

"Ohhh, you sweet little beauty!" I exclaimed.  "I'm so glad you like 
how this feels, Jason, because it's going to get better, mmmmmm, a lot 
better."  I gave his cock two little squeezes, then resumed stroking as 
before.

"So, Jason, what do you think about when you touch yourself?  Is there 
something that makes the tingling feel real good when you think about 
it?"

He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip as he struggled to speak, 
distracted by the tantalizing pleasure my hand was giving him.  "Yes," 
he panted, "sometimes I used to see some older teenage guys at a lake 
near me -- I like to think about them."

I stopped my slow stroking and began to flick my fingers all over his 
cock and balls, racing up and down like little teasing flames.

"Did you get to see them naked, Jason, is that what you wanted?" I 
asked him urgently, deliberately working up his excitement.  "Could you 
see between their legs, see their nice big cocks sticking out?  Is that 
what you thought about to get yourself all tingly?"

My cock-teasing hand really had him going now.  "Oh -- oh -- yes -- yes I 
liked that -- ohhhhhhhhhhh Tim, that feels so -- ohh it's so good ... one 
guy especially -- his was so big -- mmmm -- when I touched myself I closed 
my eyes and pretended he was there touching me -- ohhhhh -- touching me 
and rubbing his thing against me -- oh Tim, oh Tim, oh please, 
ohhhhh..."  He was almost sobbing in ecstasy and frustration.

I chuckled softly as he writhed under my hand.  I alternated the 
teasing, fluttering fingers with slow, full-hand masturbation, always 
keeping what he ached for just out of reach.

"Ooooo, think about that, Jason, close your eyes and think about that 
boy and his big hard cock touching yours and making it all tingly!  He 
makes it feel so good, doesn't he?  Don't you want it soooo much?"

Panting and whimpering, he closed his eyes in surrender to his fantasy, 
while I took his cock in my hand again and began to masturbate him more 
seriously, making his pleasure more intense, coaxing him closer and 
closer to orgasm.  I wet my palm with saliva, and gave him long, slow, 
luxurious strokes and twists.

Continuing to masturbate him, I got up on my knees and moved toward the 
head of the tent, looking down at my writhing little victim.

"Jason," I called softly, "look ..."  He opened his eyes, and stared up 
at me, transfixed.  My erection was rock hard, the shaft curving 
upwards from my tight balls to the swollen, purple head, stiff, aching.  
It was heavily veined and throbbing, and a rivulet of pre-ejaculate was 
dribbling down through the cleft of the glans.

"Do you like it, Jason?  Is that what you like to see?"  His mouth was 
trembling and he licked his lips.  I could feel his little boy erection 
jump and swell in my hand as he gazed at the hard, straining cock 
curving upwards above his face.

"Oh, Tim, ohhhhhh..."  I smiled down at him as he stared longingly at 
the excited adult penis quivering above him.  I took it in my hand, and 
spoke softly to him as I slowly masturbated both of us.

"Look at it, Jason -- do you like it?  It's big and hard for you -- see 
how big it is?  It feels so good when I touch it like this -- it feels 
just like yours does right now -- ohhhhh, it feels so good, Jason, it 
feels so good when I look at you and see your beautiful hard cock in my 
hand."

I could sense that he was very close to orgasm, so I held his cock 
tightly in my hand, just giving it little squeezes to keep it right on 
the edge.  I held my erection at the base with two fingers, and moved 
it around in front of him, letting him get a good look at it from all 
angles.  His eyes were riveted on it, fascination and desire in his 
face.

"Feel what I'm doing, Jason -- feel my hand now..."  I made a ring with 
my thumb and forefinger, and began to masturbate him slowly up and 
down.  I gradually picked up the pace, my fingers rubbing up and down 
along his shaft, brushing over his sweet spot, massaging the rim of his 
little swollen head.  He closed his eyes, and I could see him 
concentrating on the searing pleasure that was rising higher and higher 
in his poor, helpless little cock.  He opened his knees wide, and I 
reached between his legs and gently teased his balls with the 
fingertips of one hand while I relentlessly stroked him with the other.  
He was going mad with the sensation, his breath catching in little 
gasps in his throat, totally consumed by the racing wave of sweet 
pleasure that was about to overtake him.

He was there.  I could feel his spasms starting, as my hands pushed him 
over the edge into an explosion of sexual pleasure.  He cried out, 
sobbing and moaning, and raised his hips off the tent floor, thrusting 
his pulsating cock in and out of my hand.  I looked down and watched as 
he ejaculated in my hand, watched the little spurts shoot out from the 
tip of his throbbing cock, its head slick and pink, captive in my 
stroking hand.  I was surprised to see that even at his young age he 
already had semen, and it fell back on my hand and dribbled down my 
fingers.  I kept his cock in my hand, giving it little strokes and 
squeezes in time with his spasms, extending his orgasm.

Finally he calmed down, spent.  He threw his arms around my neck and 
clung to me.  He was panting, almost in tears.

"Tim, Tim, ohhhh ... what did you do to me?"

"I hope I made you feel good, little guy -- did I?"

"Ohhh, you did, I, I ... I feel so funny ... what happened?  Am I OK?"

"Everything's fine, little guy -- do you feel all right?"

"Yes, I feel OK..." he said, then added with a little embarrassment, 
"but -- but I think I peed myself..."

I laughed gently.  "No," I said, "you didn't pee -- you just came for 
the first time, that's all.  There's nothing to worry about."

"Came?  Came from where?"

"That's just an expression, Jason.  It means you had an orgasm.  It 
happens to guys when their cocks get really excited -- and I guess yours 
got excited, all right.  Did it feel nice?"

His eyes became dreamy, unfocused.  "I loved that, Tim," he whispered.  
"I loved it better'n anything I ever did before.  I didn't know 
anything could feel so great.  It was like, like, I don't know, like 
you were rubbing honey on me, it felt real sweet.  You made me feel so 
good."

"That's a great description," I laughed, "you're a little poet, you 
are!  It was fun for me, too."

"But why did I get wet?" he asked.  "You're sure I didn't pee?"

"No, no, Jason -- that's called semen, and it only comes out when you 
get really turned on ... you know, sexually excited.  It has to do with 
making babies, when you have sex with a girl.  Nothing to do with pee 
at all."

"Oh," he said.  He thought about this.  Then he asked, "Does it happen 
to you, too?  Did you have a, a ..."

"An orgasm," I interjected.

"... an orgasm?  You look a little wet."

I shifted my position a bit, and he let go of my neck and sat close to 
me.

"No, I haven't 'come' yet, Jason.  That's why my cock is still pretty 
hard."

"Oh."  He was silent for a few seconds.  "Well, are you going to?  
Come, I mean.  Do you like how it feels, too?"

I smiled.  "Oh, yes, Jason, I really like how it feels, a lot.  Would 
you like to see me come?"

"Oooo yes, can I?  You're even bigger than the guys at the lake.  And I 
never even saw them do anything."

"I'd love to do it for you, Jason -- come around here where you can get 
a good view, and I'll masturbate for you."

"Will you get wet, too?"

"You'll see -- just sit back and watch..."

I lay back down on the tent floor and arranged the pillow under my 
head.  Jason stretched out next to me with his arm resting on his elbow 
on the floor, holding up his head.  His face was right at my hip, where 
he could watch my cock from about a foot away.  I put one arm behind my 
head, and set to work.

Another depraved fantasy you're sinking into, I thought to myself.  
You've always wanted to do this, haven't you, you perv, expose yourself 
to a kid, get yourself all sexed up while he watches!  Yeah, I had to 
admit I'd had those fantasies before, but they usually involved a girl.  
But now here I was with a pretty young boy I had just jerked off, and 
my cock was still hot and hard for him, and I needed to come.  I was 
almost drooling at the prospect of pleasuring myself for his innocent 
eyes.

The tent was silent except for my sighs of pleasure as I set to work on 
my aching erection.  It had been hard the entire time I had been 
stroking Jason, and was worked up right to the edge.  I closed my eyes 
and jerked and pumped and twisted, driving myself to the release I so 
desperately needed.  Seeing Jason watching me as I pleasured myself 
made the experience infinitely more intense and erotic.  It was just so 
wicked!  I was right at the edge, eyes closed, ready to explode, when I 
heard his voice.

"Tim -- can I touch it?  Please?"

He was kneeling beside me, his face flushed, looking to me for 
permission.

"Mmmmm, sure, guy, go ahead -- I want you to."  I removed my hand and 
waited for him to touch my cock, which was now standing straight up, 
alone and throbbing, slick with my fluid.

He reached out took the shaft in his hand, giving it a hesitant 
squeeze.  Inclining his head a bit to the side, his lips parted in a 
half-smile, he studied my cock intently as he slowly drew his hand down 
the slippery shaft to the base,  then all the way back up.  He grasped 
it just below the rim, and watched the swollen head as he 
experimentally stroked and squeezed.  Then he began to rotate his hand 
back and forth, sliding his palm up over the slick head and back down.  
The feeling was indescribably thrilling.  Sighing with pleasure, I put 
my hands behind my head and watched as Jason took my cock in his two 
hands and began to slowly pump up and down.

"Am I doing it right?" he asked, looking up at me.  "Am I making it 
feel good?"

"Ohhhhh, Jason, oh god yes, it feels wonderful!  Keep doing it just 
like that..."

He kept his eyes on my face as he stroked me, watching my expression as 
he tried rubbing my cock in various places.  Whenever he hit a spot 
that gave me sudden pleasure, causing me to close my eyes and moan 
involuntarily, he would concentrate his efforts there, his eyes shining 
with excitement when he saw the effect it had on me.

Finally, it was too much for me.  The intense pleasure his hands were 
giving me, and the wicked knowledge that a beautiful pre-teen boy was 
jerking me off, combined to excite me beyond the breaking point.

"Ohhh, Jason, I'm coming, oh god, oh god..."

My enflamed organ began to buck and jerk, shooting out long streams of 
sperm with each convulsion.  It splashed onto my hips and belly, and 
covered Jason's hands with its viscous warmth.  Groaning with pleasure, 
I watched as he continued to pump me with two hands.  He was fascinated 
by my ejaculation, and continued to rub sperm into my cock for as long 
as it continued to flow.

"Wow ... that was awesome, Tim!" he said.  "I loved that!"

I pulled him down to me and kissed his smiling mouth.  I couldn't 
believe how good it had felt to come in his hands.  He looked into my 
eyes, with my cock still in his hand, obviously thrilled by what he had 
just done to me, and by the effect it had had on me.  I sat up and used 
my socks to clean us up as well as I could (can always rinse them out 
tomorrow, I figured).  We lay back down and embraced.  Then he turned 
to lie "spoon-like" with his back curved to my chest and stomach.  I 
ran my hand along his flank, caressing him as we prepared to sleep.

"That was so great, Tim," he murmured.  "Can I do that to you again 
tomorrow?  Please?"

"Ohhh yes, little guy," I whispered in his ear.  "You don't know how 
much I want you to do that again -- and I have some other things I'm 
going to do to you, too, things you'll really like."

He sighed happily and reached behind his back to give my cock a little 
squeeze.  Despite what it had just been through it gave a little twitch 
-- but it was time for sleep now.  In less than two minutes Jason was 
asleep, oblivious to my hand as it moved down the front of his body, 
fondling him before I settled down for the night.

That night was the turning point for me; it was my Rubicon.  The course 
of my life changed radically in a way I could never have predicted, and 
I felt as if I had just leapt from a precipice. Not to fall, but to fly 
giddily into unknown spaces.  It was a dangerous leap, and I was 
uneasy.  What I had just done was exciting, dark, erotically thrilling 
-- and quite illegal.  I knew that my life had suddenly become 
infinitely more complicated than it had been; and I also knew that an 
obsession had taken root in me that I would never be able to escape.  I 
didn't care; I needed more of Jason.

Que sera, sera...

* * * * *

After that night our days seemed to revolve around a focal point of 
sexual pleasure.  We engaged in woodsy activities, to be sure, with 
more hikes, animal watching and a little fishing.  Yet anticipation of 
what awaited us in our tent at night wound through the hours of the day 
like a seductive dance, beckoning and teasing.  We kept each other 
excited with occasional touches and caresses, leading each other along, 
tantalizing.  Days were like extended foreplay, arousing us for intense 
orgasms after sunset.

Sometimes it was difficult to withstand the temptation to give in to 
our lust before the end of the day.  A few days after our first night 
of pleasure we swam as usual, then sat on the rock ledge that led to 
the water, drying in the sun.  We were facing each other, and I began 
to idly stroke myself while I looked at him.  He smiled at me and 
reached between his legs and began to manipulate himself as well.  Soon 
we both had erections, which we openly caressed for our own and each 
other's enjoyment.  Jason stopped and stared at my erect cock for a few 
seconds, then got up and came over to me.  He straddled my legs, facing 
me, and positioned himself with his stiff little hard-on pressed up 
against my larger one.  He leaned back against the rock and began to 
slowly move his cock up and down along the underside of my shaft.  It 
was a delicious sensation, feeling his bottom flex against my legs as 
his warm prick gently teased my excited cock.  I reached down and took 
both of our erections in my hand, and squeezed and rubbed them against 
each other.

"Mmmmm, feels good, doesn't it, Jason?"  He whimpered yes.  He was 
biting his lower lip in obvious need of more.  "You want to come, don't 
you?  Just like the other night?  Do you like how my hard cock feels?"

"Ohhh, Tim, oh yes, please," he sighed, as he watched my hand gently 
working on both our cocks.

I gave two more slow strokes, making sure I brushed against his sweet 
spot; then I took my hand away.

"Uh, uh, uh -- not yet, little guy," I said to him, smiling.  "You're 
going to have to wait until tonight..."  I gently lifted him and moved 
so that our cocks were no longer touching.  He moaned in frustration 
and rose to his knees, throwing his arms around my neck.

"Please, please..." he begged.  "Can't we, now?"

"No, not until tonight -- it'll be better that way, you'll see," I 
whispered into his ear.  "I'm going to do something special for you..."  
Then I added, somewhat wickedly, "...but you want it sooooo much, don't 
you?"

"Ohhhhh, yesss..."

God, Tim, I thought to myself, why are you such a sadist?  The fact was 
I really enjoyed teasing him like that, building up his need so that I 
could exploit it later that night.  You're a bad man, Tim!

"Come on, little guy," I said, getting up, "let's go get some lunch."  
We walked back up to our camp, hand in hand, both with slowly subsiding 
erections.  The day passed slowly; we ached for the coming of night, of 
sweet, sweet night...

* * * * *

The hanging light illuminated the interior of the tent.  Jason was 
naked, on his back, his cock hard and excited.  I had been giving him 
light strokes, mere feather-touches, teasing his anticipation.  I 
wanted him needy, aching for release.  He knew what I could do to his 
cock, and he wanted it.  He whimpered, and I smiled at him, enjoying 
his frustration.

"Please, Tim, please ...?"

His hand moved towards his erect penis.  I responded by taking his 
hands, and held both his wrists above his head in my larger, stronger 
hand, binding him fast.  I smiled at him and gently shook my head, 
while my other hand caressed slowly down his chest and stomach, just 
missing his straining cock.  My fingertips teased his tight little 
balls.  I leaned down and gazed at his erection.  It was flat against 
his stomach, extended and rigid.  The ridge along the underside was 
prominent, the glans pink and swollen and shining, the cleft in the rim 
exposed and vulnerable.  I lowered my head and placed a kiss there, 
just below the head, a single gentle kiss on his center of pleasure.

"Tim!  Ohh..."  His mouth was open; a frown of disbelief furrowed his 
brow.  He was totally unprepared for this new sensation, this new flash 
of tantalizing pleasure.

"You like that, Jason?  Want a little more ...?"  I kissed the head of 
his warm cock, and continued down his shaft, light feathery kisses, 
teasing kisses.  He was sighing and moaning; I knew just how this felt 
to him, and that got me very excited.  I'd never done anything like 
this before, but I realized now that down deep I'd always wanted to -- 
I'd always secretly fantasized about tantalizing and pleasuring the 
cock of a young, inexperienced boy, tormenting him with my mouth and 
tongue.

I began to work on him.  My tongue was truly wicked, teasing and 
worrying the head of his cock, flicking all around his most sensitive 
areas, deliberately holding back to create need and increase his 
frustration.  I wet my lips and moved them up and down the underside of 
his erection, the tip of my tongue flicking rapidly along the ridge as 
I went.  I alternated slow sucking kisses just below the head with 
maddening swirls of my tongue around the rim of his glistening bulb, 
teasing him wickedly for extended periods.  His whimpering and begging 
merely increased my resolve to drive him mad with lust.  Oh, I was 
loving this so much!  Suffer, my little prisoner -- suffer and beg and 
show me how much you need it!

Still holding his struggling hands captive, with my other hand I raised 
his tortured prick upwards, so that I could see his distended and 
dribbling glans.  I wet my lips and formed them into an "O", and slowly 
slid down over his tip.  The head entered my mouth as far as the rim; I 
held it there for a few seconds and then drew it out, my lips squeezing 
as it passed.  I did this again, this time going down further so that 
my lips caressed the upper part of his shaft.  I moved up and down 
slowly a few times, making sure he got the message of what I intended 
to do to him.  Oh yes, he got the message; but now that he did, I'd 
make him wait for a long, long time, in agonizing anticipation...

For half-an-hour I teased his cock unmercifully.  My mouth and tongue 
were all over his genitals, sucking and licking, tormenting his rigid 
hard-on.  He was thrashing and squirming, vainly striving for the 
stimulation he needed for release.  I laughed softly, mocking his need, 
showing him that I knew exactly how I was making him feel, and that I 
was enjoying it.  He sobbed and moaned, in exquisite erotic agony.

Finally, finally ... his knees were raised and far apart, his hips 
straining upward.  His cock was in my mouth and I was sucking gently, 
moving slowly up and down, my tongue swirling around the head, snaking 
down the underside, caressing, coaxing.  I began to fondle his balls 
gently with my fingernails...

The ravished child exploded in orgasm.  My careful oral torture had 
resulted in a cascade of searing pleasure that caused him to cry out in 
ecstasy, writhing and twisting as my mouth and tongue continued to hold 
him captive, sucking and swirling in rhythm with his helpless 
convulsions.  Whatever reservations I'd had about swallowing his 
essence vanished in an instant; nothing could have separated me from 
him at that moment.  His throbbing penis was my doing, my creation, and 
my mouth was its cradle and guardian.  I was excited and rigid with 
empathy.  I gently stroked myself, savoring his release.  He was 
exhausted, overwhelmed, breathing heavily; but he finally calmed.  I 
took him in my arms and he fell asleep almost immediately.

I listened to his deep, relaxed breathing, and watched his angelic 
face.  His lips were slightly parted, showing just a bit of his front 
teeth.  He looked so young, so vulnerable and tender.  I hadn't reached 
orgasm, but I didn't care.  My cock was still erect, but I was content 
just to hold him now, and to recall the passion and pleasure I had just 
lavished on him.  Gradually my pounding heart slowed, and I caressed 
his brow as I settled myself for sleep.  Turning out the light, I 
gently pressed my erection against his smooth skin, then drifted into 
unconsciousness.

* * * * *

The next day was to be my last at the lake.  We were sitting on our 
log, preparing to get busy packing our gear.  Jason was very quiet; he 
was dreamy and affectionate after the pleasure I had given him the 
night before.  I decided to press him a bit about his background.

"So, are you going to give me a hint about how you happen to be 
traveling all by yourself?  I'd really like to know more about you."

He hesitated a bit -- I knew he was trying to decide whether he trusted 
me enough to open up to me.

"I ... I guess I was running away.  You won't tell on me, will you 
Tim?"

"No, of course not -- but running away from where?  From your parents?"

"No, not exactly ... no, I really like my Ma and Pa.  It's just that 
... well, they're not home anymore."

"Not home?  What do you mean, Jason?"

"Well, they're sort of ... sort of locked up.  In jail -- you know?"

"Oh!  Gee, I'm really sorry, Jason.  What happened?"

"Well, we was living in this big old house, it was sort of in a quiet 
part of town, real quiet, not many neighbors.  Ma and Pa had some real 
good friends who lived with us sometimes, they're sort of like family.  
It was real nice, Ma and Pa and their friends, they liked to do stuff 
like grow gardens and play music and stuff.  They were real nice, I 
liked them a lot."

"So you lived in a sort of commune, Jason?"

"A commune?"

"Yes, that just means a group of people who choose to live together, 
even though they're not in the same family."

"Yeah, I guess it was like that.  Except we really felt like a family, 
even though we weren't.  But the other people in the town, I don't 
think they liked us much.  They thought we were weird or something.  
Well, word got out that Ma and Pa were growing a little pot in the 
garden -- you know, mara ... mara ..."

"Marijuana."

"Yeah, right, marijuana.  They liked to smoke it sometimes.  Well, 
anyway one day the police came busting into the house and took 
everybody away.  Everybody but me -- I was out back when they came and I 
ran away and hid."

"They didn't look for you?"

"No, I don't think they even knew about me -- I didn't go to school or 
anything.  Ma and Pa taught me reading and stuff."

"So, what did you do?"

"I sort of hung out with a couple of kids I knew, they snuck me into 
their houses at night and gave me food for a couple of days.  Then I 
heard that Ma and Pa had been sent to jail for a year.  I didn't want 
to go to a foster home.  I would hate that, especially in that stupid 
town.  They're all a bunch of bible thumpers!"

He became quiet.  "So, how long ago was this, Jason?" I asked him.

"I left about a week ago.  I heard I had an aunt up north somewhere, 
but I don't know exactly where."

He began to cry, very softly.  I put my arm around him and held him 
close.  Poor kid!  He'd been through so much.  God knows what would 
have happened to him if I hadn't come along.  He was so completely 
alone.

His tears were flowing freely now.  "Tim, I really like being with you, 
I don't want you to go away and leave me.  I'm scared out on the road, 
please don't make me go out there again.  Can't I stay with you?  
Please?  You make me feel really, really good.  I ... I love you Tim."

I held him closer.  I realized that I'd already come to the decision 
that there was no question but that he would come home with me.  A 
transformation had taken place in me, in just a few short days.  My 
entire sexual identity had changed -- no that's not quite right, it 
hadn't really changed, it had opened and expanded, revealing a part of 
me I didn't know was there.  I was still very attracted to women; but 
coexisting with that there was now an aching desire for this pretty 
young boy -- and in the future, who knows, perhaps others as well.  I 
loved him; and I loved touching him, exciting him, teaching him the 
lusts and pleasures I knew so well, vicariously enjoying the exquisite 
pleasures I lavished between his legs.  He had fallen into my lap, 
figuratively and literally.  Alone, unrecorded and unknown to the 
"System", he was a precious gift, a little god Eros come to excite me 
in tantalizing new ways and join me in voluptuous delights.  And what 
if the juvenile authorities were actually looking for him?  Might I get 
in trouble, accused of kidnapping him, of violating him?  What of it -- 
I didn't care, none of that mattered!  I wanted him with me, so that I 
could protect him, fondle him, pleasure him -- I loved making him feel 
"really, really good", and I didn't want it to stop.

"Shh, little guy, don't worry -- you're coming home with me.  You can 
stay with me for -- well, for as long as you want to.  Everything will 
be OK, don't worry."

* * * * *

We drove all day and into the early evening.  Jason dozed most of the 
way, often with his head in my lap.  I thought about our situation, 
making plans, deciding now to smooth Jason's entry into my life -- my 
new life and his.  I caressed him as I drove, gently massaging his 
smooth legs and his back.  He murmured contentedly, sometimes fondling 
me to erection through the thin fabric of my nylon camp trousers, in 
his half-sleep unconscious of what he was doing.  I was in a gentle 
state of warm, tantalizing arousal for the entire trip home.

We arrived well after dark.  We left the unpacking for the next day, 
and went inside.  I got Jason into a warm tub and bathed him gently.  
He was so tired that I had to hold him up to prevent his falling asleep 
in the water.  I brought him to my large bed, fresh with the clean 
sheets I had made up before leaving, and tucked him in.  After taking a 
shower myself, I got in next to the sleeping boy, embraced him and 
explored him with my hands for a brief minute, then joined him in 
sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning I awoke to pleasure.  It took me a few moments to 
remember where I was, and what was happening.  I had an erection and 
Jason was gently stroking it.  I smiled and stretched, enjoying his 
soft hand.  As I moved he shifted his position but kept his hand on my 
cock, continuing to pleasure me.  I opened my eyes and smiled at him.  
I caressed his cheek.

"Hi," I said.  "What a nice way to wake up."

He nodded and smiled.  "I like doing this.  I love how big you get.  It 
feels so nice in my hand.  It's so warm and smooth, and hard.  Real 
hard."

I closed my eyes and sighed.  The sensations he was giving me were 
exquisite.  He seemed to know just how to touch me, just the right 
stroke and rhythm to excite my aroused cock.  I recognized some of the 
same teasing motions and touches I had used on him during the past 
week.  He was an instinctive learner.

"Jason, that's so nice -- you're doing that beautifully ... ohhhh, so 
good ..."

"Tim?"

"Mmm?"

"What you did to me the other night..."

"Yes, Jason?"

"I want to do that to you.  Can I?  Please?"

He looked into my eyes, pleading, while his hand continued to stroke my 
erection.  My heart began to beat faster.

"I ... I would love that, Jason.  Are you sure you really want to?"

He licked his lips and grinned at me in response, as he wriggled 
himself down between my legs.  I lay back and spread my legs to give 
him plenty of room, and laced my fingers behind my head while I looked 
down at him.  He took my stiff cock in both hands and studied it for a 
moment.  Then he pulled it towards him and gave a long, slow kiss below 
the head, moving it from side to side over his moistened lips.  
Grinning at me, be began to wiggle his tongue up and down the 
underside, occasionally swiping it over the head.  He was a natural.  I 
felt the need rising in me as his tongue danced along the ridge of my 
erection, teasing my pleasure higher and then wickedly withdrawing, 
letting me quiver for several seconds, abandoned and frustrated, before 
his tongue resumed its gentle wiggling tease.  He evidently intended to 
get even with me for the oral wickedness I had inflicted on him in the 
tent.  And he did -- his outrageous tongue was busy between my legs for 
a long, long time...

An explosive, deliriously satisfying orgasm after days of arousal and 
an hour of relentless, maddening tease ... my cries of pleasure and 
relief, accompanied by Jason's giggling ... we finally arose and began 
our newly entwined lives together.

* * * * *

So, that brings me to the present.  I continue my work as a free-lance 
writer, and Jason is enrolled in school, as my "nephew" come to live 
with me.  He is doing well, and seems to enjoy our strange, half-hidden 
life together, a life steeped in eroticism and sensuality.  He has 
become my alarm clock -- I often awaken to the pleasure of my erection 
quivering in his warm, clever mouth.   Incredibly, I occasionally have 
dates with women, and Jason delights in hearing about them, especially 
my sexual encounters.  If these do not go well, he is more than happy 
to console me in ways in which he has become expert.  And he has become 
addicted to my explorations of his responsive body and my perverse 
delight in driving him mad with lust.

Where will this end?  I have no idea; I never think about it.  What 
will happen as he grows older?  Again, I give it very little thought.  
I just enjoy him, and write this journal that no one will ever see, 
perhaps to convince myself of the reality of my transformed life and 
the path that has brought me here.  I have learned acceptance, 
acceptance of this precious, dark gift.

I must stop here, since Jason is waiting for me -- I've promised him 
another long, slow tease, after binding him to the bed.  This time I'll 
use a feather; he's not expecting that.  And, if I know my clever young 
protégé, I can look forward to the same feather tormenting me in the 
not too distant future...

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tim_cravin@yahoo.com
