I heard a high voice shout from the other room, "Frank? Why have you got a pair of blue shorts on your wall?"

I froze. Oh, shit, I thought.

Chapter 5

I had to think quickly; "Oh, those," I said, casually. "When I was your age, I was considered quite an athlete at school. I won several running events. I was awarded a medal and a cup. Unfortunately, I lost those somehow. The only thing I had to remind me of those days were those shorts, so I decided to have them framed to remember my achievements."

I thought, That's the lamest thing I've ever come up with. He'll never believe that load of BS. Firstly, shorts like that didn't exist when I was at school; it was either regulation white or black, and secondly, I'd never won anything in my life.

But it was the only thing I could think of to explain why they were there.

"Wow!" said my little friend, "Do you still run?"

Ah, the naivety of young boys; bless them.

"It's still raining hard outside. We'll have to make a quick dash to the car," I said, changing the subject.

The old rust bucket stood on the drive at the side of the house. We ran to it and clambered in, either side. I started the engine and I reversed out into the road. Five minutes later, we were outside Jay's house. The front door opened, and I assumed it was Alison, standing, waiting, for her little boy.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" she asked Jay as he rushed in out of the rain, closely followed by me. "Come in, Frank," she said to me. "I want to thank you for being such a good Samaritan and taking care of Jay."

I smiled at her, "It's nothing. Anyone would have done the same. It just happened he fell off his bike outside my house."

Alison smiled back, "Would you like a coffee?"

"I should be getting back. I'm just glad I could be of some help," I told her.

"I insist," she said, "I have some home-made cookies."

I weakened. To be in the company of Jay for a few more minutes? Well, how could I refuse? "Thanks," I said, "Home-made cookies sounds great."

Alison said, "Good. Let's all go into the kitchen. Through here. Take a seat."

Alison brushed away a lock of hair from Jay's forehead, then said to him, "We'd better take a look at your injured knee."

Jay told her, "I'm okay. I don't need a fuss."

Alison responded, "I'm your mother. That's what mother's do, make a fuss. Take down your jeans so that I can have a look."

Jay remonstrated, "Aw, mom!" he said, with embarrassment.

And I thought, Aw, YES!

It was then a little face peered around the kitchen door, "Jason's hurt his knee-ee," this little face said, in a mocking, sing-song voice, "Jason's hurt his knee-ee."

This must be Jay's little sister, I thought. Jay was right; she is a pain.

"Frank, this is Abby," Alison informed me. I smiled at Abby and nodded in acknowledgement. Alison turned her attention back to Jay. "I'm waiting," she said. Jay reluctantly undid the top button of his jeans, unzipped the fly, and dropped them to the floor, around his ankles. I shifted in my seat; my cock was getting hard. Jay stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, with his legs on show to me again. This time, I could see his little red Awesome Boy underpants. The 'o' in 'Boy' pinpointed exactly where his penis head was resting inside; just like Ben's had. Alison knelt down in front of Jay and examined my effort at first aid. She gently peeled away one end of the band aid.

"Oh, that'll heal in no time," she said to Jay. Alison kissed Jay's knee better, and stuck the band aid back. "Okay," she told him, "Jeans up."

Jay bent down and pulled his jeans back up. Abby had got bored meanwhile and reached for a cookie jar. "Excuse me, young lady," Alison said to Abby. "Guests first. Offer one to Frank, please."

Abby, suitably admonished, put the cookie jar on the table in front of me. "Choc'lit chip," she informed me.

Another figure announced itself with a loud yawn, and scratching his head. He kissed Abby's head, saying, "Hi, trouble."

He ruffled the hair on Jay's head, saying, "I hear you've been in the wars."

He looked over at Alison, asking, "Is he okay?"

Alison replied in the affirmative, "Just a little cut. This is Frank. He took Jay in and dressed his wound. Frank, this is my husband, Jim."

"Thanks for looking after little squirt, here," Jim said to me, "That was really good of you."

I repeated, "It was nothing. Glad to have been of help."

Alison placed a cup of coffee in front of me. Jim kissed his wife. "Ugh, Jim, your breath stinks," she told him. "Apologies for our appearance, Frank. Sunday is literally a day of rest in our house. We all like to sleep in. Except little squirt, here. He likes his paper round. It earns him money, which he spends on comic books," Jim explained.

"Not all his money," Alison chimed, "Jay keeps a little of it by, at our insistence, for a rainy day."

"Like today?" I ventured. "Anyway, no need to apologize. I'm not exactly presentable myself," I said, stroking my unshaven chin.

"Have a cookie," Alison said. I was aware that Abby hadn't taken her eyes off the cookie jar. I helped myself to one. Abby's little fat fingers dipped in immediately after, devouring her prize messily, with traces of 'choc'lit chip' and the residue of crumbs all around her mouth. A pain indeed.

Jay piped up, "Frank, would you like to see my comic book collection?"

Chapter 6

"Oh, Jay, I'm sure Frank wouldn't be interested in your comic books," Alison told little 'squirt', as Jim had called his son.

I found myself saying, "I really should be going. I've intruded enough," addressing Alison and Jim. Then I turned to Jay, "Another time, maybe. Anyway, I have something at home you might be interested in."

Jay's curiosity was piqued, "What's that?"

I replied, "A signed copy of an Awesome Boy comic, by the writer and illustrator, Ed Powell."

Jay's face lit up; his eyes widened, "I'd love to see that. What issue is it?"

I had no idea. I'd just picked one up from the pile on Ed Powell's table in the bookstore. "Why don't you come and see?" I said, and, turning to Alison and Jim, added the proviso, "If that's okay with you?"

Jay got excited, "Oh, pleeeze, mom, dad! Oh, pleeeeze!"

Both parents smiled, and agreed, with a proviso of their own. Turning to Jay, Alison told him, "Only if you're good. And don't be a nuisance to Frank. Be sure to do what he tells you to."

It seemed I had gained this family's trust, except Abby, who just rolled her eyes and tottered away to turn on the TV. I had carte blanche, 'Do what Frank tells you to,' Alison had said. Don't blow it. Don't blow it… I repeated in my head. Keep calm. "Tell you what. How about next Sunday, after your paper round? I can check to see if your wound has healed, and, I can cook you breakfast, like I did this morning. Your mom and dad can have a peaceful lie in," I suggested.

"Not that peaceful," said Alison, as the TV blasted into life, with Abby inches away from the screen. "Abby! Turn it down. Don't be so rude."

Alison looked at me, "Sorry about that. You wouldn't like to take her off our hands as well?" she said, wearily.

"I think one is enough for me to cope with," I jokingly told her.

"We can't expect you to cook for Jay," Alison protested.

I told her, "I'll be fixing breakfast for myself. It's no trouble throwing in a couple more eggs and bacon for Jay. And anyway, I'll be glad of the company."

Alison looked at Jim, who subtly nodded his approval. "Well, if you're sure. I know Jay would love to see your signed comic book… if you don't mind me saying, you don't look like the kind of guy who'd have a kids comic book, let alone a signed one?"

Quick! I had to think, quick! "True," I said, "I happened to be in another town yesterday, looking in a bookstore. I didn't realize Ed Powell would also be there, signing copies. I thought my nephew would like a signed copy. It's his birthday soon, and it seemed like a good idea for me to join the queue and get a comic autographed. Like Jay, here, my nephew is a big fan of Ed Powell. I know that, because whenever he comes to stay with me, that's all he can talk about."

Alison seemed to swallow that explanation. It also planted a seed in her mind, Frank has a nephew. Entrusted to Frank's care. Allowed to stay with Frank. The stars are surely with me, I thought to myself. I didn't have a nephew, of course, I made that up. Things were falling in to place. This may be a long haul, but good things come to those that wait. Alison capitulated, "If it's okay with Frank, it's okay with us."

Jay flung his arms around his mother and hugged and kissed her. "Thanks, mom."

Jay's delight was obvious to see. I kept my delight to myself.

Chapter 7

The stars were arranging for a beautiful boy to be delivered to me the next Sunday. I would have to tread very carefully; I wanted Jay's visit to me to be one where he'd want to come again and again. I wanted him to cum again and again; but I knew that might take some persuading. I wasn't going to rush anything with him. I wanted to gain Jay's trust – and his parents – I wanted him to feel at ease around me, and slowly introduce the subject of natural 'feelings'.

I said my thanks and goodbyes to Alison, Jim, Jay and Abby the pain.

Before I went home, I thought I'd celebrate my good fortune by driving downtown, and picking up the latest issues of Chicken, Preteen boys and Model boys, for my Sunday night reading matter.

I thought I'd also have a look in the children's clothing section of a department store; to see if they had any Awesome Boy clothing; particularly underwear. I thought I could give them as a gift to Jay, when I felt the time was right. I also looked in a comic book store; I thought I'd bone up on the phenomenon that was Awesome Boy; I wanted to impress Jay with my knowledge. I also bought a few non-Awesome Boy comics, some by Ed Powell, and some by others in that genre; ones that appealed to young boys. I thought I'd attempt to have all bases covered. I hadn't intended spending a lot of cash, but I came home with a pick of twelve Awesome Boy comics, and twelve assorted super-hero ones. I also came home with two pairs of boy's sized Awesome Boy underpants; one red, one blue, and an Awesome Boy pajama set, and two pairs of Awesome Boy socks, and an Awesome Boy action figure. The merchandising people don't miss a trick.

I also arrived home with three 'specialist' magazines; the boy on this month's cover of Model boys reminded me of Blondie; blue eyes, long, tousled hair, perfect skin, posing in a shirt tied around his middle, a la Blondie, but with green short shorts. I knew there would be a fictional story about what 'Larry' – that was the name the magazine had given him this month – liked to do; his interests and such. I knew that he would like "nothing better than to pay a visit to his Uncle John," where they would play 'strip pool', or some other game that involved posing naked, bending over, that sort of thing.

I knew 'Uncle John' would suggest they play a mutual masturbation game, which would include fellatio, and almost inevitably, 'Uncle John' penetrating 'Larry', or whatever the boy would be called that month, ending with a fuck. The boy was different each month, but the stories were the same. It didn't matter. I would enjoy seeing the pictures of 'Larry', this month's 'model boy'. And this month, 'Larry's' 'Uncle John', suggested they play strip 'Twister'.

I looked at Blondie's short shorts, framed on my wall. I remembered I had a pair of Ben's underwear. I decided, for the time being, not to have them framed and hung next to Blondie's; they will remain in plastic, in my drawer. I could get away with the story about Blondie's short shorts on my wall; it would be more difficult to explain to Jay why a second pair had appeared, of Awesome Boy.

I spent the rest of Sunday immersing myself in the world of Awesome Boy, and other super-heroes . I was familiar with all the caped crime fighters and heroes with super powers, having spent my childhood years being gripped and absorbed by their adventures. Awesome Boy was a relative newcomer to the scene; a new kid on the block, and I knew very little about him. It turned out he had been accidentally subjected to a chemical experiment that went horribly wrong at school. The result being that his molecular structure had been altered at the age of fourteen, unbeknownst, at the time, to Charlie Ellis. Soon after that experiment, weird things began to happen to Charlie Ellis. He found he could see through clothes, and could see not only what his female classmates were wearing underneath their school attire, but beyond that; he could see them naked – very useful for a pubescent boy! He went on to discover he could levitate, and eventually fly. More 'powers' materialized, extra strength, and a high IQ. Ed Powell had created a moral tale about how a young boy should deal with all the changes taking place in his body, and learn how to control them and use them for good. Charlie kept his powers secret from everyone, except for the teacher. Charlie had confided in him about the aftermath of the failed experiment. After witnessing a hold-up at a bank, Charlie vowed to join the forces combating evil, but needed to remain anonymous. Charlie designed his own costume and mask, keeping his identity a secret from everyone except his teacher, who became his mentor and moral compass. The teacher felt responsible for what had happened to Charlie Ellis. And so, Charlie Ellis's alter-ego, Awesome Boy, was born.

I finished reading all twelve comic book adventures of Awesome Boy. I finished the day by going to bed with my copy of Model Boys, and the adventures of 'Larry'. Oh, and a box of tissues.

Chapter 8

On Monday morning, I retrieved the paper from the front lawn. Tucked inside was a note from Jay, "Thank you for looking after me yestaday. I can't wait to see yor sined comic book next Sunday. Love, Jay (Jason), yor paperboy."

That simple, misspelled acknowledgement of thanks set me up for the working week. As working weeks go, it was a pretty uneventful one. The usual laughter from the work team, as they packed some customers orders for shipping, 'sexy' underwear, for both men and women, crotch-less, backless, you name it; items that people were too embarrassed to purchase in a store.

Before I knew it, Saturday had rolled around. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Jay all week. Nothing unusual about that; I was getting ready for work, and Jay had to go to school. It was at the weekends when I could look out my window and watch as he passed by on his bike. Sure enough, Jay appeared, throwing the paper on to my lawn and pedaling off to the next house. I went outside, in my dressing gown, and picked up the paper, breathed in some of the chill, November morning air, before returning inside. Another note from Jay, "Hi, Frank. I will finnish my round tomorow about 8 o cock. C U."

There was certainly something endearing about a boy who says he will see me at "8 o cock."

Throughout the day, I picked up Jay's note and re-read it. It made me laugh and smile each time I did.

I was up very early on Sunday morning, and so was my dick, as I read once again, Jay's note. "8 o cock."

I wondered if he'd written it that way as an innocent schoolboy error, or if the spelling mistake was some kind of Freudian slip. I settled on the former, "Don't read into something that wasn't there."

I thought I'd make myself presentable for my little guest. I'd showered and shaved, put on some casual clothes, and waited for my doorbell to chime, at "about 8 o cock."

The mantra in my head returned, Don't blow it. Don't blow it…, I repeated to myself. Do not pounce on the boy, 'Do not mess on your own doorstep. Take it slow. Gain his trust. Play the long game.'

The doorbell chimed at 8.15.

I opened the door, and in a split instance, I took in the sight of my little Jay, standing outside, sporting a new hairstyle. His hair had been fashioned in layers, with what I believe they call, a 'feather' cut, not unlike a boy super hero of my recent acquaintance.

"Hi, Awesome Boy!" I said. "You noticed," Jay said, grinning at me.

"I like it," I told him, "Very becoming."

I heard the sound of the yapper-crapper dog from across the street. I looked over and saw its nosy crone of a mistress, looking at me and Jay, from her front door. I acknowledged her with a wave, secretly thinking to myself that what I'd really like to do is kick that little yapping dog into next week, along with its owner.

"Come on in," I told Jay. "Ready for some breakfast?"

"Sure am. I'm hungry," came his reply.

"No rain today," I remarked. "How's your knee?" I inquired.

"It's fine," he said, and wiggled and bent his leg like Elvis used to, as if to prove it.

"I'd like to have a look at it later, if that's okay with you," I informed him.

"Sure," he said. "Take off your jacket. Make yourself at home," I told him.

I hung his little red zipper jacket on a peg near the front door. It appeared everything was little about Jay, he was little for his age – eleven and a 'half' – lest I forget, little for his build, his height, everything. Well, everything as far as I knew. I wanted to find out. I wanted to peel off his clothes. Don't blow it. Don't blow it… I chanted in my head. Control yourself. Have patience.

Chapter 9

I asked my little visitor what he wanted for breakfast. I rattled off a few items, one by one, requiring him to answer yes or no. I did this, because it gave me some time to view my little guest, red and white check shirt. White vest underneath. Blue, tight-fitting, straight-legged jeans. Black belt with a small, silver buckle. Thick, red socks. Black ankle-high lace-up boots. His smile revealed those two front teeth, as I've said before, not protruding, or 'goofy', just endearing, giving him character. Blue eyes, bright and clear, concentrating on the choice of menu I was reeling off. Jay said "Yes" to everything on offer. I was tempted to ask if he wanted my cock to follow, but I restrained myself. Believe me, it wasn't easy, the way he was lounging on my couch, looking very relaxed, almost in a prone position; it was all I could do to stop myself from jumping him.

"I'll get started on the food," I informed him, and made my way to the kitchen.

Jay followed me there. "Can I help?" he asked.

I smiled, "Sure. You can get the knives, forks and spoons from the drawer over there," I told him, pointing to a kitchen unit. I watched as he skipped over to the unit. I had a good view of the back of him; his fine, layered, 'feather' cut hair reached down to below his neckline. Jay's tight jeans complimented his tight little backside. I almost dropped a couple of eggs on the floor, but managed to save them from falling out of my hands. Don't blow it… concentrate… I repeated to myself as I cracked the eggs into a pan.

"Sunny side up, or over easy?" I asked Jay.

"Over easy," came the reply. Everything that was in my head suddenly had a double meaning, Over easy, I repeated in my head, Over easy. I want me to be over easy with little Jay, my body over his, and the easy removal of his clothes.

I found it difficult to think of anything other than taking this boy, in my own house! Don't blow it…

I summoned all the willpower I could, and congratulated myself as I triumphed over weakness. I didn't give in to my desires. Instead, over breakfast, we talked.

I learned that his full name was Jason Joseph Paterson. His father Jim, was a long haul truck driver, and could be away from home for several weeks at a time. He'd just returned from a four week absence, and loved his lie ins on a Sunday; they were a luxury to him. He was due to go away for another four weeks, come the next weekend, and would be away for Thanksgiving. Jim and his wife, according to Jay, had a row about him not being at home for Thanksgiving, but Jim couldn't afford to turn down a job that would pay handsomely. Alison, Jay's mother, kept the house, was involved in the local Parent Teacher's Association, and supplemented the family income by working part time in the store that delivered my newspaper, and baking and selling, also in the same store, cakes and cookies, which were very good, I can attest to that; her 'choc'lit chip', as Jay's sister Abby had described them, were very fine cookies indeed.

Abby, Jay's little pain of a sister, when not at school, was looked after by Alison's parents, for the times Alison was at work, or attending her PTA meetings. Jim and Alison considered Jay old enough to look after himself at home in the short periods Alison was not at home. A neighbor kept a check on him during those times. Jay was also, sometimes, looked after by the mom of one of his school friends.

Jay had three close friends, Andy, Nathan and Scott. It would seem Jay was a loving, sensible, responsible, happy boy. Jay loved his paper round. Jay loved his comics, which he bought out of his earnings. The rest he saved; he wanted enough money to buy a new bike; something called a 'BMX'. I was hoping that meant, "Boy + Man = X rated."

Somehow, I doubted that was what the initials stood for. Jay helped me clear away the breakfast things and I washed, while he dried. Jay told me his mom had a dishwasher. I told Jay I hadn't.

"Can I see your Ed Powell signed comic book?" Jay asked me.

"First things first," I said, "I want to take a look at your knee."

Chapter 10

"The only way I can show you is if I drop my pants," Jay informed me.

I cleared my throat, then said, "That's okay," I cleared my throat again, "You did the same with your mom when I took you home last week."

Jay smiled at me, unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. He drew the zipper down, then wiggled his hips as he pulled his jeans down past them, down to his ankles. Jay's red and white check shirt obscured part of my view of his nether regions, but I could see his beautiful, smooth legs and a pair of red Awesome Boy briefs. I knelt down, put my hands on the back of his bare legs, and peered at his knee, but made sure my eyes took in all his lovely, exposed legs, up to his thighs.

"Hey, that's healed beautifully," I exclaimed. Jay smiled again. "I like your Awesome Boy underwear," I remarked, "You really must be a fan."

Jay's face burst into a grin, with his toothsome smile, looking down at me. My hands rubbed the back of his legs, almost up to his butt cheeks. I thought I'd chance it; I patted his behind a few times, while I said to him, "Okay. You can pull your jeans back up."

Jay wiggled his hips again, as he pulled the tight jeans up to his waist, and refastened his belt. I was determined not to 'blow it.'

Slow and steady wins the race. Or, in this case, the boy. I figured the stars would give me a sign as to the right time to make my move.

"I'll get the comic book," I said, as I got back on my feet.

In the days before personal computers, computer games, cell phones, videos, and any other technological advance, print was king, newspapers, magazines, comics, books. Radio, TV and the movies were the only other kind of information and entertainment. So, a signed copy of a comic book was a big deal in 1978, and to an eleven and a half year old boy, a very big deal indeed. And an action figure would be the cherry on top of the cake. I came back in the room, concealing, with one hand behind my back, the action figure. I distracted Jay's attention from that by presenting him, with my other hand, the comic book. Jay's big, saucer eyes widened in amazement.

"Issue number twenty!" he said, with excitement in his voice. I guessed that was supposed to mean something, judging by Jay's reaction. "Issue number twenty!" he said again, in an almost reverent tone. Jay stared at the cover, "This is the one where Awesome Boy first meets his nemenemesis, 'The Spear'. It's the one copy I haven't got. It's rare!"

I smiled to myself at Jay's mispronunciation of 'nemesis'. Jay perused the cover as if he were looking at an old master painting. I figured that, to him, it was the preteen boy's equivalent to a fine work of art. Jay stroked the cover and read the inscription, "To Felix. Best wishes, Ed Powell."

Jay traced his delicate fingers over the signature. It then occurred to me that among the twelve comics I had read to familiarize myself with Awesome Boy, I remembered a story about 'The Spear', and how he used his super powers for evil. One of those powers was hypnosis, and 'The Spear' had hypnotized a helpless Awesome Boy to do his bidding. Needless to say, Awesome Boy found a way to resist The Spear's mental assault on him, and had defeated his 'nemenemesis's' evil plans. I left Jay to his reverie. He was so engrossed in looking at 'issue number twenty', he didn't notice me slip out of the room to check the pile of twelve comics I had in my bedroom. Sure enough, by some fluke, I had picked up another copy of 'issue number twenty'. I went back to Jay, this time with both hands behind my back, concealing two items. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you have that copy," I told Jay, "Because Ed Powell has signed it for my nephew."

Jay looked crestfallen, but a look of understanding crossed his face.

"However," I continued, after a pause, "I'd like you to have this."

I brought my hand forward and showed him the extra copy. "I'm afraid it's not signed," I said, apologetically. Jay put both copies down on the couch, jumped up and hugged me around my waist. Tightly. He pressed the side of his face in my chest. Jay then looked up at me.

"Really?" he said, excitedly, and almost rapturously.

"Really," I confirmed, "It's yours."

Jay hugged me even tighter.

"And so is this," I said, as I brought my other hand out of hiding and showed him the Awesome Boy action figure. "You've probably got one of these already," I told him, "What with you being a big fan of Awesome Boy. But have it, anyway. I bought it for you."

Jay's bottom lip dropped open. "I haven't got one, but I have now!" he said, almost losing his voice with sheer delight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said, "This is the best day of my life. This is… this is…"

I helped him finish his sentence, "Awesome? Cool, perhaps?" I suggested.

"Bigger than awesome," he said. I stroked his full head of feather cut hair while his face looked up at me, as if to tell me I was his new best friend. My trust in the stars was paying off. Bigger than awesome, indeed.

Chapter 11

"How long are you staying?" I asked Jay, "Do you have to get back home at a certain time?"

Jay had come down from his euphoria and had let go of my waist, "Not really," he replied, "Dinner won't be until about six tonight. I usually play and hang outside with my friends, or, I'm at a friend's house until then."

I inquired, "Not seeing your friends today, then?"

Jay, "No. Andy is away, Nathan had to go to the mall with his folks, and Scott has his grandparents staying with him this weekend."

"Well," I said, clapping my hands together, "Want to hang out with me until it's time for your dinner?"

Jay nodded, "I'd like that," he said, showing his toothy smile to me.

"Tell you what," I said, "It's cold, but dry outside. Why don't we go take a drive to a park, and have a kick about?"

Jay liked the idea, "Yeah! That'll be great," he said.

"Better call your mom and dad; tell them where you're going and check that it's okay with them."

Jay nodded again, and without any further prompting, ran to the hall, picked up the telephone receiver and started dialing. I noted that even the telephone looked big compared to his little frame, as he held the receiver to his ear. I picked up my bunch of keys, my new camera, and found a soccer ball in the back of my wardrobe, still inflated, even though it hadn't seen the light of day for a while. I waited for Jay's parent's decision.

"They said okay," Jay told me after replacing the handset, "I'm to be back by five, and I'm to do what you tell me to," he added.

My mind raced as I thought of several things I'd like Jay to do. Then, the mantra kicked in, Don't blow it.

It was becoming obvious to me that I couldn't just take Jay and do what I wanted with him, as I had done with Blondie and Ben. Jay was on my home territory, and everyone knew who I really was; a bit like the teacher knowing Awesome Boy's true identity, but in reverse; only in this case, many people around here knew my true identity, but not one of them knew me in my guise as 'Felix'. Even with the blessings of the stars, I felt I needed to tread very carefully. Having thought that, I still liked the element of danger, the thrill of risk taking, I was going to take Jay to the very park I had abducted Blondie from; it was far enough away not to be too close to home. I had taken that route, passing that park, many times before, on my way to the woods, where I could find true solitude; no neighbors, no nosy old crones minding other people's business.

There was always a risk Blondie would be there in that park. Part of me really wanted him to be there, just so I could have another look at that little beauty. But, part of me thought that if he were there, and he recognized me… well, it didn't bear thinking about. I wasn't driving there in the camper van, but in my recent rust bucket purchase, so no association with a camper van would be made by anybody towards me. The adrenaline rush I experienced, at the thought of what I was doing, coursed through my veins. I knew this time, unlike Ben, the stars were with me. I was listening to them; guiding me. I had that same feeling I'd had when I took Blondie. Nothing, or no-one, could spoil this. I just knew, that this time, I had to err on the side of caution, when it came to manipulating Jay.

"Let's go," I said to Jay, as I took his red zipper jacket off the peg and handed it to him. I closed the front door and we made our way to my car, parked as it was, on the front drive. No sight or sound of the yapper-crapper dog, but I saw a movement of curtain from the nosy old crone's house across the street. Hasn't she anything better to do, I asked myself, Like… die?

Jay and I got in the car and I reversed on to the street and drove away.

Chapter 12

There was a certain, perverse kind of pleasure, I thought, driving Jay to the place of my first, memorable, abduction of a boy. I had no interest in astrology; I thought it a load of bunkum, but, uncannily, something had guided me to Blondie. Something had been triggered inside of me. A switch had been flipped in my head; from passive reading and jerking off over young boys featured in my magazines of choice, I had made a leap of faith and made the dream a reality. And I liked it. It was like a drug. I needed more. More boy flesh. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to jump on just any boy; no, they had to be attractive to me. A certain kind of boy. A certain kind of look, or preference.

Blondie was the living embodiment of what I craved, desired, lusted after. Jay was different, but he also had that certain, indefinable, something. As for Ben? I dismissed him as a failure, even though I'd enjoyed his body; fucking him and humiliating him. Ben had been too easy, too stupid. There was no thrill for me with him, just perfunctory sex. I hadn't been in tune to what the stars were telling me with Ben; that he wasn't the one; I just wanted a release. The stars were teaching me a new mode of operation, one that, I hoped, would be more satisfying in the long run. The stars were telling me I had to invest time and money if I wanted a more gratifying experience with a boy. The stars had brought me Jay.

I found a place to park several yards away from the park entrance. A bright, clear, Sunday afternoon had brought out a lot of people. This was a totally different scene to the deserted one I experienced with Blondie before. And no sign of Blondie, as Jay and I stood in the very spot I had left Blondie, standing there with his eyes covered, but not his dick and ass. As Jay and I walked into the park, I observed families, dogs with their owners, kids playing and running around, joggers, cyclists. It was the first time I'd actually entered the park, the first time exploring it. I'd always driven past it on my way to the woods. In the distance, I saw what looked like a boating lake. Still no sign of Blondie; maybe he had been so traumatized, he would never frequent this park again. We passed a hot dog stall; the smell of fried onions entered our nostrils.

"Want one?" I asked Jay, "Or will it spoil your dinner?"

Silly question, I thought. A young boy isn't going to be concerned about later. A young boy lived in the here and now.

"Yes, pleeeez," he said, stretching his words, enthusiastically. We walked along the path, me struggling with a camera, swinging by its carry-cord, and a soccer ball under my arm, trying to eat a hot dog, with mustard, ketchup, fried onions and a side of fries. Not easy.

"Let's stop here for a moment," I said to Jay as we approached an unoccupied park bench.

Jay spoke with his mouth full, his lips smeared with ketchup, "Mmmm, okay."

We sat down and I took my first picture of Jay, looking at the camera, lips red from the ketchup.

Jay licked his lips as the last piece of hot dog disappeared into his mouth; I imagined it was my cock he was sucking on. We sat on the bench for a while, watching all the activity going on in front of us. I picked up the soccer ball and passed it with a tiny throw to Jay, sitting beside me.

"Come on," I said, "Let's work off some of that hot dog."

We kicked and chased the ball about for a while. We got a little hot and took our jackets off and put them on the grass, using them as a makeshift goal. I played goalkeeper. Jay expertly got several shots past me. Jay jumped in the air at his seventh goal score. I picked up the camera, asked him to repeat his jump, and took another picture of him, with his feet off the ground, as if suspended in mid air, and arms above his head in triumph; his feather cut hair flying upwards.

If I was to get Jay back home to his parents, we needed to start for home now. It was three-thirty. We put our jackets back on and headed back to the car. I wanted him to enjoy the day. I wanted him to feel comfortable about a return visit to my house. I wanted his parents to know I could be trusted to look after their little boy. I wanted a chance to get inside Jay's pants. Slow and steady wins the race, and the boy.

Chapter 13

We arrived back at my home with just enough time for Jay to take his 'issue twenty' comic and Awesome Boy action figure. I delivered him safely home to his parents at four-fifty. Alison asked Jay if he had had a good day. Jay was full of stories about the park, the hot dog, the comic book and the action figure, which he proudly showed Alison and Jim.

"You shouldn't have done that, Frank," Alison told me, "But thank you."

Turning to Jay, she said, "Jay? I hope you've thanked Frank for those, and for taking you to the park."

Jay replied that he had, but came and put his arms around my waist once again and said, "Thank you, Frank. I think you're great!"

Alison and Jim smiled. Alison said, "I think you've got an admirer."

I smiled back and told her, "It was nothing, really. I enjoyed Jay's company. He's a credit to you both. Um, I'd like the opportunity to see him again, if he wants to, and only if you're happy for me to do so."

Alison glanced over at Jim. Jim responded with a slight nod of approval. "How about next Saturday?" Alison said to me.

"That'll be fine, but, Jay might want to be with his friends?" I submitted.

Jay replied, "I'll see them on Friday before they go away. I'd love to come over on Saturday."

Me: "After your paper round?"

Jay: "Yes, pleeez. Can I have breakfast again?"

Alison: "Don't be presumptuous, Jay. You don't want to eat Frank out of house and home."

Me: "It's no trouble, cooking for two instead of one."

Alison: "If you're sure…"

Me: "I'm sure."

Alison: "You don't have to buy him presents, Frank."

Me: "Only this once. I saw these things in town and thought Jay would like them."

Alison: "It was very thoughtful of you, Frank."

I didn't tell her I had a stockpile of gifts for Jay at home, red and blue underpants, pajamas and socks. I'd bide my time with those.

Jim said to Jay, "You just make sure you behave yourself when you're with Frank. Make sure you do as he tells you, squirt. Understood?"

Jay grinned and nodded, "Understood," he replied.

I commented, "He's a very well behaved boy. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Alison told me, "Oh, he has his moments. Particularly when it's time for bed."

"Ssshh, mom," Jay said, embarrassed.

Alison looked over at Jim again. Jim gave another subtle nod in her direction. Alison turned back to me and said, "Actually… Jim and I were wondering…" Alison seemed hesitant to complete the question, but she continued, after a pause to gauge my reaction, "We were wondering if, perhaps, you'd be willing to have Jay stay over on Saturday night and nearly all of Sunday…?"

I tried not to look ecstatic at this news. Instead, I gave Alison a quizzical look. Alison continued, "It's just that…"

I encouraged her to ask what she wanted to ask, "Please, go on."

"Well…," she said, looking embarrassed and as if she was slightly unsure of my reply, "… It's just that, Jim is going on a long haul trip next Friday. I'm committed to go to my parents – Jay's and Abby's other grandparents – with Abby. Jay doesn't really want to go. He gets bored. They don't do anything with either of them. None of us has seen them for a while…"

Jim interrupted, "For good reason," he said.

Alison continued, after looking 'daggers' at Jim, "There's really nothing for Jay and Abby to do there. Nevertheless, Abby will have to come with me. Our neighbors, who usually take them in when necessary, are also away next weekend, and all Jay's friends are either away as well on Saturday and Sunday, or have other plans. I wouldn't dream of asking you otherwise. I know it's a huge imposition, and I'll understand if you were to say no."

Trying desperately to hide my excitement, both on my face and in my pants, I asked her to confirm what she was saying to me, "You'd like me to have Jay sleepover Saturday night?"

Alison nodded, with an almost apologetic look on her face.

"I'd be happy to," I told her, "Jay is welcome any time."

Alison said, "I feel so awkward and embarrassed at asking you. But I'm sure he'd be fine with you. I hope you don't think I'm painting you into a corner, so to speak."

"Not at all," I replied, "I'd love to have Jay sleep over. I've become very fond of him in just a short while. Consider it done… if that's alright with Jay, of course?" I said, looking at him.

Jay's face lit up, "Yes!" he said, emphatically, "I'm going to stay with Frank… and Abby is going to stay with grumpy gramps!"

Alison had to laugh at Jay's outburst, though she tried to look serious. "That's settled, then. What time Saturday?" I asked Alison.

"We're going early Saturday morning. Jay isn't doing his paper round that day, actually. I can drop him off about seven. Seven in the morning, that is. Please tell me if that's not convenient."

"That's fine," I told her, "I'm up early most mornings anyway."

Alison breathed a sigh of relief, "You don't know how pleased I am to hear you say that. One other thing… Jim and I were thinking… that, as Jim will be away, I've invited Jay's friends and families, and Abby's friend and parents, to come together for Thanksgiving. To show our gratitude, we'd like to invite you as well."

I had to inform Alison that I wasn't particularly good with large gatherings, particularly ones involving lots of people I didn't know. I wasn't used to them and found them intimidating. I thanked her for her thoughtfulness, and told her there really was no need to feel compelled to invite me. I enjoyed being in the company of Jay.

"I understand," she told me, "But the offer is there, should you change your mind."

Jay looked at me, with his big blue eyes, then took hold of my hand, "Oh, pleeeeez come," he said, stretching his words even more.

I felt as if I had no choice. If I was to get close to Jay, I knew I had to make sacrifices; a means to an end. "Just for you," I told him. "Yesssss!" Jay said, as he jumped up and punched the air in a celebratory manner.

Chapter 14

On the drive home, I asked myself, What the hell was I thinking? I don't want to get involved with the boy's family and friends. I'm a loner. I take my pleasure where I find it.

But I couldn't argue with the stars; they had given Jay to me on a plate. I was intrigued as to how this whole shebang would work itself out. It seemed the stars had taken me over; I was no longer in control of who, what, where, or how I would satisfy my desires. All I knew, was that the stars were coming together and arranging something very special, and I had to trust them and surrender myself to their guidance.

When I arrived back home, I looked at the photographs I had taken of Jay in the park. I opened a dresser drawer, and tucked the photographs inside the, as yet, unworn new underwear I had bought for Jay. I closed the drawer and just stood there, staring into space, thinking of what was to come, Jay sleeping overnight. Here! In my house! In my bed?! It suddenly occurred to me that might happen; I didn't have a usable second bedroom; that was filled with clutter. The only alternative to my bed was the couch. For appearances' sake, I thought I'd better get out some blankets and a pillow, and leave them piled on the couch. Alison, when she delivered her boy here, would want to see inside my house. Women can't resist being curious and downright nosy. She'd want to check the sleeping arrangements. I'd subtly let her see what she expected to see; blankets and such on the couch. And to avoid any awkward questions, Blondie's framed short shorts would have to come down off the wall, for the duration of Alison's inspection.

I spent Sunday night in the company of Chicken magazine, and Model Boys, which had a picture story involving the use of whipped cream. And a box of tissues.

Monday thru Friday, work was work. The same old laughter over some of the items ordered by customers. After work, on Friday evening, I went to the grocery store and stocked up on provisions, and what I thought a young boy would like, candy bars, potato chips, snacks, flavored milk, and anything else that contained huge amounts of sugar. The light was beginning to fade by the time I arrived home with my shopping. The old crone across the street was looking out her window.

"Yes, that's right. Take a good look. I've bought more than I usually do," I said to myself, as I ferried the bags into the house, making three trips to the car. "I hope you slip on one of your dog's little 'accidents' and have one of your own. Try to break your neck."

The old crone looked on as I gave her a wave of my hand. What I'd really like to have done was raise my middle finger and tell her to "Spin on this."

Her name was actually Mrs. Elizabeth Bradley. Her husband, George, had died twenty years ago, and any improvements made to the house died with him. The house hadn't been maintained since then; the paint was peeling, the porch beginning to rot, just like Mrs. Bradley herself. Even the trick or treaters avoided her and her house; they both looked like something out of The Munsters. Her only companion was that wretched yapper-crapper dog. All the neighbors complained about it. Yapping morning, noon and night, and being liberal with its bowels; there wasn't one immediate neighbor of hers that had not received a little present on their lawns, drives, or sidewalk. Mrs. Bradley let the damn thing out to roam its limited territory, yapping at anyone or anything it perceived to be a threat to its domain, which was all of us. Mrs. Bradley had been taken to task on numerous occasions about the anti-social behavior of her beloved 'Mister Bradley', as she called it. She and 'Mister Bradley' never received any family visitors since her husband George had died. I could understand why.

After the third and final trip to the car, I pulled the front door closed behind me with my foot and pushed it shut with my backside, as my arms and hands were loaded up with grocery bags. I dumped the bags on the kitchen table and put the items away in the cupboards and refrigerator. I made a fresh brew of coffee and sat down. The phone rang.

Chapter 15

I made my way to the hall and picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Frank. It's Alison," she said through a crackly connection.

"Hi, Alison. Nothing wrong, is there?" I asked.

"No, not at all. I called earlier but didn't get a response," she informed me.

"Oh, sorry about that. After work I went to the store. Your store, in fact. I even bought some of your cookies in there."

"That's sweet of you," Alison remarked, "No, nothing's wrong. I was just checking that seven tomorrow morning was still okay with you."

"I'll be ready," I told her, "If you have time, I'll have some coffee on the go when you and Jay arrive."

"Thanks, Frank," Alison said, "See you tomorrow morning."

"Okay, 'bye," I said, and hung up the phone. I poured some whisky into my coffee, watched some TV, then went to bed.

***

Saturday morning. I didn't need the alarm to wake me. I was up and about at five-thirty. It was beginning to get light at about six-thirty. From my window, I could see the sky was overcast. The local weather forecast on the radio predicted rain. Right on time, Alison's car pulled up behind mine on the side driveway. I opened the front door, and watched as my little guest got out of the car, clutching an overnight bag – yes, you guessed it – an Awesome Boy bag; red, and his action figure I had bought him.

"Come on in, before it starts raining," I said to Alison and Jay. "Can I help you with anything?"

Alison shook her head, looking flustered, "It's fine. Abby is a little crabby this morning; doesn't want to go and see the grumps, sorry, I mean 'gramps'."

I liked awarding names to people, 'Crabby Abby' seemed most appropriate. "I've told Abby to stay in the car while I see to Jay," Alison explained. Crabby Abby's face peered out of the window in the back seat of the car. She didn't look happy. "If you don't mind," Alison said to me, "I'll take a raincheck on the coffee. Abby and I had better get going. We've a four hour drive ahead of us."

I told Alison I quite understood. I didn't tell her that I quite understood, also, that if I were her, I'd like to get a four hour drive with Crabby Abby over with as soon as possible. Crabby Abby sure looked sour! Alison did as I thought she would; take a quick look around inside, saw the blankets and pillow piled neatly on my couch, a clean and tidy environment, and looked satisfied with the arrangements.

"Thanks once again, Frank," Alison said, shaking my hand, "It's a real weight off my mind."

She handed me a piece of paper, "If you need to contact me, here's the address of where I'll be, and the phone number."

She turned to her son and said, "Now you be a good boy. Do everything Frank tells you to do. Yes?"

Jay affirmed, "Yes, mom."

Jay plonked his overnight bag and his action figure down on the couch. Alison said her hurried goodbyes, returned to her car, said a few words to Abby, and reversed out of the drive. I watched her car disappear down the street, as the rain started to fall. I heard the familiar sound of a newspaper being thrown and plopped on the front lawn. I retrieved it and went inside.

"Someone else doing your job today," I said to Jay.

"Yeah," Jay confirmed, "That's Saul," he told me, on his assumption that I should know who Saul is.

"Make yourself at home," I told Jay.

"Is this where I'm sleeping tonight?" Jay inquired, looking at the couch and the pile of blankets.

"That's the plan. Okay with that?" I asked him.

"I guess so," he replied, thoughtfully.

"Do you want to empty your bag? Hang your clothes up? Put your toothbrush and stuff in the bathroom? I take it you brought a toothbrush and washing items?" I asked my little guest.

"Mom packed it all for me," was Jay's reply.

"There's some spare space and some spare clothes hangers in my wardrobe in my bedroom if you want," I told him, "You can put your stuff in there. Any other things, like socks and underwear, you can put in the third drawer down in my dresser. Washing stuff… well, you know where to put those," I said. Jay picked up his bag and headed into my bedroom.

While he was in there unpacking his bits and pieces, I reflected on what he was wearing this morning, 'feather' cut hair. Navy blue shirt. White vest. Indigo jeans, straight-legged and tight around his butt. Black leather belt with a silver buckle. Bright red socks. White trainers with a dark blue flash on the sides. All that blue and white really brought out the blue of his eyes.

I hadn't a clue what the unfolding day would bring. I thought it was time I asked the stars for some guidance. I asked the stars to give me a sign as to how to proceed. I snapped out of my daydream; Jay, I realized, had been in my bedroom for at least twenty minutes while I had been contemplating.

Finally, he emerged, and asked me, "Do you have the game 'Twister'?"

I quickly ran through my head as to why he would ask that. I immediately answered my own question. The pile of comic books in my bedroom, on the bedside table. I'd forgotten to take them from the top of the pile and hide them! The only way that Jay would have thought of playing Twister, was by looking at my copy of Model Boys, with 'Larry' and his 'Uncle John'.

Oh, shit, I thought to myself, I've blown it.

Chapter 16

I remained calm. Perhaps this was the sign, the guidance I had asked the stars to give me. I swallowed hard, "No… ," I said in response to Jay's request, "… Why do you ask?"

Jay replied, "Oh, no reason. I just thought it might be fun."

"Breakfast!" I announced, in an effort to change the subject. "I'm going to spoil you today. Bacon, eggs, toast, fruit, coffee, orange or apple juice. I even have waffles and maple syrup!" I told him enthusiastically.

I was taken aback and thrown off guard when Jay asked me, "Do you have any whipped cream?"

I stumbled for an answer, my mind racing; had he looked at all three magazines while he was in my bedroom?

"Er… Errr… ," I had to admit, "Er… yes, I do. I have a can of instant whipped cream… but… but… er… you can't have that with bacon and eggs. I thought we'd have that with fruit later, after dinner."

Jay moved his blue eyes from side to side, up and down, and then fixed his gaze at a point on the wall, as if he was thinking about what I'd said. Jay eventually responded by asking me, "Do you have any cakes for later?"

Did I! I'd bought everything I thought a young boy would like, "Yes," I replied, "Cakes and buns."

I wasn't prepared for Jay's riposte, "Oh, great!" he said, "I like smearing my buns with cream."

I could hardly control my emotions. Don't blow it… don't blow it, I kept reminding myself in my head, 'Maybe he's unaware of what he's saying.'

I didn't respond to his statement of preference, but, in my head, I was secretly hoping he knew exactly what he was telling me. It wasn't evident on his face; no look as if to say to me, "You know what I really mean, don't you?"

No 'knowing' wink. No body language. Was this eleven and a half year old playing with me? Messing with my mind and emotions? Nah, I thought, A boy at that age of innocence couldn't be.

I tried to think of something to change the subject once again; anything!… think of…, it was Jay who changed the subject, "What's happened to your blue shorts? They're not on the wall," he said as he pointed to the space where they had been.

Oh, this cookie is sharp, I thought to myself, And observant.

I wracked my brain for an answer, "The… er… the glass broke. I'm getting it mended."

That answer seemed to satisfy Jay.

The rain outside was really coming down hard. It beat heavily on the window pane.

"Frank, do you play any games?" was Jay's next question. Before I had a chance to think of an answer to that one, Jay explained, "At home, when it's raining like this, mom, dad, when he's home, me and Abby play board games, or charades, or something."

An idea secretly whizzed through my head, 'strip' charades. I blotted that thought out and replied, "I live on my own, Jay. I don't play board games. I don't have any. But, we can play charades later, if you want to," I told him.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Jay replied, happily.

"Breakfast!" I announced again, clapping my hands and rubbing them together. "You set the table, Jay. You know where everything is. I'll start cooking."

Chapter 17

All the while I was standing at the stove, over a pan of bacon, my mind reflected on what Jay had said, 'Twister', 'Games', 'Whipped cream'. 'Jay must have looked at those magazines in my bedroom. He must have done. One innocent comment might have been coincidental; but three? Were they veiled references to what was going on in the pictures of those magazines? Was Jay biding his time? Had he planned to unmask me, like Awesome Boy's 'nemenemesis', 'The Spear', was always trying to do? Was he about to confront me, accusing me of being a pervert? If he was going to do that, surely I would have picked up the signals; nervousness? Fright? Disgust? Jay displayed none of those. Jay was relaxed, smiling, natural in my presence. A boy feeling uneasy wouldn't act like that if he were…'

"Frank!" A high voice pierced my thoughts, "You're burning the bacon!"

Jay was right. I looked at the 'beginning-to-char-and-smell-of-burning meat in the pan.

"Hey! Well done," I praised Jay for his warning.

"It is well done now!" Jay said, laughing. I replied, "It's not meant to be smokey bacon, but…," we both laughed and chimed in unison, "It's smokey bacon now!"

The burnt bacon had eased my mind. If Jay was uncomfortable in my house, if he was in any way fearful, he would have shown it; on the contrary, little Jay was full of giggles and laughter as he sat down at the kitchen table. We both helped ourselves to all that I had prepared for my boy king, including that burnt bacon.

After our morning feast, I sat at the kitchen table and read the newspaper. Jay amused himself in the other room, by playing with his action figure toy. I could hear him making up a story, "So, you think you can outwit me, do you, Awesome Boy? I am going to unmask you. Not so fast, Spear. You haven't reckoned on the explosive charge I have in my utility belt. Take that!"

Jay made some noises from the back of his throat, to emulate the sound of explosions, "Kkkkkhhhhh! Boom! Prrrrkkhhh! No one can outwit Awesome Boy, especially not you, Spear! Curses, Awesome Boy, you win again, but one day I'll get my revenge. Ha, ha! No chance, Spear!"

Jay made a sound of Awesome Boy flying away from his number one nemenemesis', "Whoooosh!" and then I heard Jay sing what I assumed to be the Awesome Boy theme tune. I smiled to myself, and wished I was still eleven and a half.

But I wasn't eleven and a half. I had turned thirty-two last April. I had lived in this house since I was born. My father died when I was about Jay's age, maybe a little older; twelve. My father, without warning, suffered a fatal heart attack while he was at work. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to him, until I saw his body laid out in its casket at the funeral parlor. My mother received a payout and pension due to my father's foresight with finances. My mother succumbed to a virulent, and aggressive form of cancer three years ago. She didn't suffer for very long. The house and a modest sum of money was left to me. I get by. I think that, without my mother's influence, her guiding hand on my tiller, so to speak, I became my own person, for better or worse, and allowed myself to indulge in my desires. I had always been attracted to boys, even when I was one myself. There was this one time I had a crush on a boy at school…"

"Frank?"

The bubble of reminiscences in my head that I was floating around in suddenly burst. Jay was standing by me at the kitchen table. "Frank, are you okay?" my little friend asked, looking concerned.

"Oh, hi, Jay," I said, "I didn't hear you come in."

I realized my eyes had welled with moisture. I wasn't crying, but I was close to it. I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

"I'm fine," I assured Jay, "I was just thinking how lucky I am to have someone like you for company. I get lonely sometimes" – a lie – "and you are like a ray of sunshine in my life. Don't mind me. I'm just an old softie."

Jay beamed at me with his endearing, attractive, toothy smile, and, in his young heart, made an attempt to cheer me up, "Let's play charades! he said, enthusiastically.

Chapter 18

"That's a good idea," I said to Jay, as I ruffled his voluminous feather cut hair. "I know it's still early," I announced, "But I feel like having a beer. Heck, it's Saturday. The weekend. I'm going to let it all hang out."

I used a popular expression of the time; a remnant from the previous decade. Sounds quaint when I say it now.

"Do you want some?" I jokingly asked Jay.

"I've never had a beer," he informed me, "It's only for adults," he added.

"Well, I won't tell anybody. It'll be our little secret," I said to him, with a hint of jokey devilment on my face.

Jay mirrored my expression on his face, and said, with an air of nervous naughtiness, "I won't tell."

I took a couple of bottles from the refrigerator, lifted the lids with an opener, and said, "Let's go in to the other room. We'll be more comfortable in there".

Jay followed me in to the other room and flopped his body down on the couch. I handed him a bottle of beer. I warned him, "Now, take it easy. Don't gulp it down. Take a few sips. You may not like it at first. It's not a sweet taste, it's an acquired taste."

I could see Jay was excited at the thought of doing something illicit, and something his parents presumably, hadn't allowed. This told me something about his parents; that they looked after his interests and well-being, keeping him safe and innocent. I liked that. Innocent; until now.

Jay took his first sip. I watched his face. Jay grimaced.

"Told you," I said to him, smiling.

"Why do grown ups like this stuff?" he asked me.

"You get a taste for it. Believe me you do. And after a while, it makes you feel relaxed. Makes you lose your inhibitions.

"What's 'inbecisions?" he asked me.

"Inhibitions," I corrected him, "It means you become less self-conscious, less shy. It makes you happy. It allows you to be yourself."

Jay took another sip, "How long before I get to like it?" he asked, with another grimace on his face.

"Well, that all depends on you," I told him.

"Is that why you like it? It makes you happy?" Jay asked me.

"You could say that," I told him.

Jay took another sip, "I like the bubbles," he said.

"Froth," I corrected him again, "Beer has froth. But, I guess, you could call it bubbles."

It was Jay's turn to correct me, "I can see bubbles coming to the top. They're definitely bubbles."

Jay sipped again. And again. I think he wanted to please me. I think he wanted to behave like an adult in my company.

"You're growing up," I told him, "That's an adult drink."

Jay smiled. All kids want to grow up and do what adults do. And, it would seem, Jay was no exception.

"I've got one!" Jay blurted out.

"Got one what?" I asked.

"I've thought of a title for playing charades," he explained.

"Oh, right," I said, "Okay. You go first."

Jay bounced off the couch, took my hands and gestured for me to sit. I sat. The couch was warm from his little body. Jay stood in front of me and began. "Two words," he said.

"How many syllables?" I asked.

"Sybubbles?" he asked.

"Forget it," I said. I wasn't going to correct him for a third time, "Carry on. Is it a book, film, TV show, song, play? What?"

"Song," he said.

"You're supposed to mime it," I said, laughing, "You know, open your mouth and put your hands either side of your face, or something."

"Oh, yes," he said. Jay took another sip of beer, then opened his mouth and put his hands either side of his face.

"Song," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Jay, you're not supposed to speak, playing charades. If I'm right, you touch the side of your nose to tell me I'm right," I instructed him.

"Oh, yes," he said again. He paused while he thought about his mime. Jay took an imaginary something from his back pocket, then struck a pose, pulling his shoulders back, chewing imaginary gum, then running the imaginary 'something' over his hair.

"Grease," I said.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "You got it so quick!"

I told him, "Because you gave a good mime. My turn."

I stood up and Jay flopped himself down on the couch again, and sipped his beer. I stood before Jay, mimed with my mouth open, my hands either side.

"Another song!" Jay guessed.

I touched the side of my nose. I held four fingers up.

"Four words!" Jay said.

I touched my nose. I moved towards Jay, knelt before him and started playfully kissing his neck, his arms, his chest and his legs.

Jay giggled, "Stop it! It tickles!" he said, wriggling in the couch.

"It's my mime," I told him.

"You're not supposed to say!" he said, still giggling.

I repeated my action in reverse, legs, chest, arms and neck, then his forehead, nose and lips.

"It tickles! I give up! I give up!" he said in a fit of laughter and giggles and wriggles.

I stopped and told him the song title, "Kiss You All Over."

Jay was helpless with mirth; he laid back on the couch with his legs open. I put my hands on his inner thighs, and let them linger there. Jay sipped on the beer again.

"That was fun," he told me.

Chapter 19

What Jay suggested next was clear evidence to me that he had been looking at my 'special' magazines.

"I've got an idea," he calmly announced, "Something naughty," he said, pausing to watch my reaction.

"Oh yes?" I responded. Jay went on, "We play charades, but each time we get one wrong, we have to forfeit an item of clothing."

Jay looked at me, as if to test me. That clinched it for me; he'd just repeated, almost word for word, what 'Uncle John' had said to model boy 'Larry' in the magazine, only Jay had substituted 'Twister' for 'charades'. I had to think fast; could it be that Jay was 'calling me out'? Would he expose my secret life? Run from the house, telling everybody? Or had he been turned on by the idea, and wanted to experience what he'd seen in the magazine? The mantra in my head was spinning around and around, like an 8-track cartridge on a loop, but with the fast-forward button depressed, Don't blow it, don't blow it, don't blow it… donotmessonyourowndoorstep, donotmessonyourown…

I decided to chance it; after all, I still had my hands on Jay's inner thighs as he sat on the couch. I gave his thighs a gentle squeeze; I patted them, then I asked him outright, "Did you like the magazine in my bedroom?"

Jay nodded energetically, with a toothy grin. I probed further, "Did you get a… fuzzy feeling down here?"

With the slightest of touch, I put my hand between his open legs as I asked the question. Jay nodded again, and broke into an open-mouthed smile, flashing those characteristic white teeth.

"Shall we play the game?" I asked him.

"My turn," he said, as he brushed away my hands, stood up, held my hands, turned me around and got me to sit on the couch. Jay faced me. He made a mime to suggest the category.

"Film," I said.

Jay touched the side of his nose. He held up one finger.

"One word," I said.

Jay touched his nose. It was immediately obvious from Jay's mime that the film in question was Superman. I decided to play dumb, and let him win the first 'go' of our 'strip charades' game. After several attempts at guessing, I finally said, "Okay, I give up. What's the film?"

Jay rolled his big blue eyes, "It's so easy. I can't believe you didn't get Superman," he said.

"Forfeit!" he cried.

I took off a shoe. It was my turn, and Jay didn't get my mime of Every Which Way But Loose. Jay forfeited one of his trainers.

Jay's turn, and I genuinely didn't guess his mime, Coach. I'd never heard of the film. Jay had seen it recently, he told me. I took off my other shoe.

Jay didn't guess Convoy, so he removed his other trainer, and took a sip of his beer. Jay's bright red socks really drew attention to his little feet. It became evident we were both miming recently released films; I failed to guess Jay's next mime effort, Battlestar Galactica – he really struggled to mime that one convincingly. I took off my socks. For my next mime, I moved away from film, and Jay shouted "Song!"

I touched my nose.

"Five words!" he said.

I touched my nose.

"First word!" Jay said.

I used my hands as a fan, as if to cool myself.

"Hot?" Jay guessed.

I touched my nose.

"Second word," Jay said, engrossed.

I pointed at Jay.

"Huh?" he said.

I mimed the other words, but Jay was none the wiser.

"I give up!" he said. I told him, "Hot Child In The City."

Jay's bright red socks came off. It seemed neither of us were very good at guessing each other's mimes; that, or we both sucked at miming; or we were deliberately getting it wrong. My shirt came off. Jay's navy blue shirt came off. My slacks came off. Next, Jay had to divest himself of his tight jeans. I sat and watched as he unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, unzipped them, and tugged at them. They came down to his ankles, and he hopped about, getting them off his feet. It gave me a chance to look at his beautiful legs once again. Jay was wearing a pair of blue Marvel Boy underpants. The 'o' in 'Boy', was, again, right where his cock tip nestled. My vest came off. I had nothing on except my own underwear. Jay's white vest came off. For the first time, I saw his bare, all hairless, top half, slim neck, perfect, pert, full nipples. Visible bone structure – defined shoulders and ribs – thin arms. A flat abdomen with a 'V' shape. A round, 'innie' navel. A slim waist.

"You know what happens when we take off our pants, don't you?" I asked Jay, with a raise of my eyebrows and a devilish smile.

"Uh, huh," Jay replied, "We do what 'Larry' and 'Uncle John' does in the magazine."

I thought to myself, Could this day get any better?

I had been a skeptic when it came to the stars, but now, I believed. I thanked the stars for what I was about to receive.

Chapter 20

For our final guesses at our mimes, we'd forgotten whose turn it was. Neither of us could care. Jay attempted another 'Film' mime, "Five words. The whole thing."

I was wide-eyed as he got down on all fours, with his backside up in the air, shaking his underwear-clad rump, as if he were wagging a tail. He then sat on his feet in a kneeling position, and mimed, what to me, looked like he was preening some imaginary whiskers. I had no idea. I shook my head. He pointed to the ceiling. I still had no idea. It was apparent Jay had been miming films he'd seen this year, ones that appealed to an eleven and a half year old boy. My knowledge of those kind of films was scant.

"I give up," I said.

Jay, with glee, said, "The Cat From Outer Space!"

"Oh," I said, "Never heard of it."

Jay jumped up, took hold of my hands and pulled me off the couch, took my place on it, and waited for me to do the big reveal, "Off with your pants!" Jay shouted, excitedly, "Off! Off! Off!"

Jay giggled and sniggered as I embarrassingly, and badly, hummed the tune to The Stripper, did a little teasing dance, then slipped my underwear down to my ankles, then stepped out of them, and kicked them up and away in Jay's direction. He caught them and held them up above his head and twirled them around in triumph. "I won!" he boasted. Jay looked at my cock. His eyes widened as it grew stiff before his very eyes.

I looked at him, and said, mischievously, "My turn!"

I grabbed his little frame and began tugging at his underpants while he was still on the couch. He writhed, he wriggled, and he tried to keep hold of his underwear, all the while laughing and giggling and helpless with mirth. I tickled his bare body. I got hold of his bare legs and slid and dragged his body until he was lying almost horizontal. Jay put his hands down on the couch on either side of him, to steady himself. I saw my chance. I pawed again at his underpants. They slipped down his legs. Oh my god! I thought to myself, I've never seen such a big dick on such a little boy.

I quickly took his underwear from his feet. Jay just lay prone on his back, legs splayed, doubled-up with laughter. I couldn't take my eyes off Jay's phenomenal dick; the phrase Awesome Boy came to mind,How in hell did he keep that hiding in his pants? There had been no clue as to the size of it when he was wearing them, I thought.

Jay's giggling and laughter settled down. We looked at each other.

"Wow!" I said to him, "You're a big boy!"

Jay looked down at his cock, and began to play with it. His dick was perfect; my preferred taste – uncut. Most definitely long and thin. Jay's balls were small and tight, looking like a limpet stuck between his legs. Just how I like them; I hate saggy balls hanging and swinging on a boy.

"Have you ever measured your dick?" I asked Jay.

"No… ?" he said, as if his reply was a question.

"Stay right there," I told him, "I'm going to get a tape measure."

Jay smiled and continued to fondle his penis. I returned with the tape measure. "Hold your cock up," I told him.

Jay took hold of his foreskin and pulled at it, raising his cock upwards. I put the tape measure at the base of his shaft and unwound the tape, "Almost four inches[10 cm]! And that's when it's flaccid!" I said, in wonder.

Jay asked, "What does 'flaccid' mean?"

"Floppy," I told him. "Let me see what it's like when it's stiff."

I took hold of Jay's cock and started to masturbate my little treasure's big treasure. Jay had a proud look on his face as his cock grew bigger. My stimulation was sending the blood rushing in. The tip of Jay's cock became a deeper shade of pink and mauve. Jay was proudly erect. "Four and a half inches [11½ cm]," I announced. Jay smiled. For a boy as small a he was, four and a half inches was impressive. I asked Jay, "Can I suck it?"

Jay replied, "Like 'Uncle John' and 'Larry'?"

"Just like 'Uncle John' and 'Larry'," I told him.

"Okay," he said quietly, still smiling.

Chapter 21

I knelt in front of Jay, his legs apart, straddling either side of me. Jay's impressive cock looked even more so, as close as I was to it, looking along the length of his body, up to his face, that in turn, was looking down at me. His skin gave the illusion that he'd been spray-tanned, such was the golden, flawless glow emanating from it. Jay's wide smile and mouth full of teeth; glossy, wet lips; 'cupid's bow' top lip. I know who Jay reminded me of, I compared Jay to a young, male, mini version of that singer, Carly Simon.

My index finger touched the base of his cock, just above his ball sack. I wiggled my finger and watched as his erect dick wiggled up and down in unison with my digit. I used my index finger to draw his cock down to where my eager mouth was waiting to engulf his entire shaft. I attacked it just as I would a flavorsome popsicle. Mmmm, it tasted good.

Jay's abdomen tightened, "Oooh, it feels funny," he told me. I looked up at him, smiled as best I could with my mouth full of boy cock, and carried on sucking, up and down, my tongue exploring every bit of his lollipop. I made slurping noises. Jay made soft "Ooo" noises. I looked up at his face again, as I continued enjoying his meat. Jay's eyes were closed, his mouth open. In hushed tones, he repeated, "Ooo" several times. Jay's pelvis gently bucked upwards, pushing his cock further into my mouth. Jay's arms were above his head. Jay totally surrendered to me. I lifted his legs up on to the seat of the couch. I had his legs open wide, and up. My forefinger located his boy hole. I continued sucking his glorious dick. My finger tickled his anus. Jay writhed in pleasure, and moved his body slightly, to assist me in getting better access to his hole. "Ooo," he said again, followed by, "Oh, that feels good."

I concentrated on sucking Jay's cock and massaging his hole with my finger, until he informed me, "I… I, think I need to pee."

I took my mouth away from around his dick, gently kissed and licked his erect penis, looked at him and said, very gently, "Trust me. It's a natural sensation, and if you really need to pee, just do it."

I wrapped my mouth around his dick again, and started moving my head up and down while I sucked on his substantial wiener. My finger flicked and tickled the area between his balls and hole; his perineum. I fondled his balls; one, then the other, then massaged his scrotum, all the while sucking on his impressive stiffy. I could tell Jay was building up to what probably was his first, real climax. No doubt he had spent several times prior to this, masturbating and pleasuring himself; what I was showing him, teaching him, was the joys of intimacy with another human being.

"Oh… oh… oooh," Jay managed to say, as I increased the speed of my up and down sucking. My right hand continued to massage and rub his balls, while my left hand stroked his stomach, until I found his right nipple and flicked and twirled my finger on and around it. Jay didn't know where to turn his body; he had never experienced anything as strange and overwhelming like this before, and, it seemed, he liked it. Jay's body writhed subtly and minutely in all directions, in response to my touch. Jay's eyes were closed tight, his head back now, pushing into the upholstery of the couch. I concentrated my right hand on his legs, stroking his raised thighs, stroking a little of his ass cheek, back to his perineum, back to his boy hole, all the while, sucking on his cock.

Jay let out a loud, "Ooooh, Oh!" wiggled his way out of my clutches, and turned himself over, releasing a little 'jizz' as he did so. I had made Jay come! He made a little wet patch on my couch. I had the opportunity to take a first, full look at his bare backside; as perfect as the rest of him; soft, golden-pink skin on two ripe, very fine, tiny fuzzy-haired peaches. Jay had a beautiful ass; two dimples either side at the base of his spine, just above his bum cheeks, and one, small brown spot, or birthmark, on the left side of his waist. I patted his bare behind. I took my opportunity to have a quick look at his hole; I moved one butt cheek away to reveal a tan-pink, fresh and clean, small little circle, surrounding his even smaller boy anus.

I patted his bottom again, then rubbed it, "Did you like that?" I asked him.

"Oh, that was GOOD!" he replied, most emphatically.

Chapter 22

I had been getting so much satisfaction from pleasuring my little Jay boy, that I came to realize something. Watching Jay on the couch, face down, lost in his raptures, I figured there was so much more pleasure for me when the boy was willing, and not forced to do my bidding. I started to regret treating Blondie the way I had; if I'd gotten to know him, I would probably have discovered he was as gentle a soul as I thought he might be; a loving boy. But the circumstances were different; it was the first time I'd ever done anything like that, although I had fantasized about doing it for some time. My base, selfish desires had kicked in and overwhelmed me. I saw an opportunity and took it. Took Blondie. I wanted somehow to make it up to Blondie. Crazy as it sounds, I wanted to seek him out, find him, get to know him. Love him. My guess was that as Blondie had been alone, on foot, as he made his way to the park entrance, he couldn't have lived that far away from that park. I decided that the park would be where I start my search.

But for now, I was going to enjoy the boy I had in my house, for the rest of Saturday, and most of Sunday. I didn't mind that Jay, an eleven and a half year old boy, was practically calling the shots; Jay had instigated this whole situation, after reading my magazines. I thanked the stars yet again, that I had forgotten to hide those magazines away in the first instance. In the second, that Jay had found them and looked at them, and third, he was willing to act out with me what he'd seen in the pictures and the story, such as it was.

Jay said quietly to me, "That felt really, really, really good, Frank. I was wondering… can I call you 'Uncle' Frank?"

Jay turned over to watch my reaction. "You mean you want me to be your 'uncle', like 'Uncle John' in that magazine?"

Jay smiled and nodded. "I'd be very happy for you to call me 'Uncle Frank'," I told him, smiling back.

Jay looked at the wet patch on my couch. "Sorry," he said.

"No need. It's natural. That'll wash off."

I could see Jay building up to another question for me, "Will whipped cream wash off as well?" he said, in a devastating way that was both innocent and knowing.

"I'll get the can from the refrigerator," I said, grinning.

I came back into the room and nearly dropped the can of instant whipped cream. Jay had positioned himself on the couch, doggy-style, with his bare ass upwards. "This is how 'Larry' did it in your magazine," Jay informed me.

I had to stop and stare at this boy, head down, his face looking at me from under the arm that was supporting his body. Jay's ass hole was on full display, as was his undercarriage, and his big dick.

"God, you're beautiful," I told him, then confirmed, "That's exactly how 'Larry' did it."

I stood motionless, unable to take my eyes off the sight before me, "You know, don't you, that in the story, 'Uncle John' licks the cream off of 'Larry's' body?" I reminded Jay, "You also know that 'Uncle John' puts his 'thingy' in 'Larry's' bottom?"

"I know," Jay replied, "I want to do exactly what 'Larry' did," he told me. I started shaking up the can of whipped cream vigorously.

Chapter 23

I removed the lid from the whipped cream can. A thought flashed through my mind, "Photographs! I must remember to take pictures. I must get used to the fact I bought a camera for that specific purpose!"

I put the can of cream down, and asked Jay to "Hold that pose. Don't move."

I reached for the camera and took several shots of Jay, as I wanted to remember him; submissive, and exhibiting all he had to offer me. I placed the individual pictures on the table to finish developing. I put the camera down and picked up the can of cream. I shook the can again. I directed the can's nozzle at Jay's anus, and pressed down. The cream squiggled out of the can, and covered its target. I squirted some more on Jay's ass cheeks, his lower back, and, just for good measure, reached below and squirted a dollop right on the tip of his penis.

"Oooh!" I said, as I performed that part of the show.

"Oooh!" Jay replied, "It's cold!"

I put the can down, and informed Jay that I would soon warm him up. I licked the cream from Jay's left butt cheek, slowly and deliberately. I did the same with his right butt cheek. Jay giggled.

The thing about canned cream is that it dissolves and melts quickly, especially on a hot little body. The cream on Jay's ass hole was doing just that; melting, oozing liquid down his butt crack. I licked the cream off just as it had reached his balls, about to drip down onto the couch. My tongue followed the trail of dripped, not whipped, cream, along his perineum, up his crack, and then to his ass hole. I finished eating my boy dessert by licking the residue of the cream off of Jay's back. His body felt sticky.

"Stay there, Jay," I told him, "Don't move. I'll get something to clean you up."

Jay, to his credit, stayed exactly where he was. I came back from the kitchen with a damp cloth and wiped his lower body.

"Are you ready to experience my thingy in your bum?" I asked Jay. I referred to it as my 'thingy', because that's what 'Uncle John' had called his in the magazine photo story.

Jay looked back at me once again, viewing me upside down; "You've got a big thingy," he told me, "Will it hurt?"

I wasn't going to lie; well, not much, "Maybe. But only for a time, until your hole gets used to it. Do you still want to try?"

For once, I wasn't going to force a boy to do what he didn't want me to. If Jay was to refuse, I wouldn't go ahead. The stars were teaching me to be considerate, and, I had to admit, I found that even more of a turn-on. My little Jay boy made me even happier when he replied, "Go for it."

I told him not to move once again, while I scooted off to the bathroom, and came back seconds later with my trusty tub of Vaseline. I showed Jay and said to him, "This will make it easier".

I reached down and caressed, fondled, tickled and stroked Jay's cock and balls. I could feel his impressive boy wonder engorge. I played with his cock for a while, then put both palms of my hands either side of Jay's ass cheeks, and pulled his soft, smooth buttocks apart. I applied Vaseline to his butt hole, on and around it. I pushed my finger slowly into Jay's rectum, coating its inside with Vaseline.

"Oooh!" Jay remarked.

"So far so good?" I asked him.

"It feels funny, but good at the same time," he informed me.

I slathered the Vaseline all over my cock. I prepared myself for entry.

Chapter 24

I rubbed my dick up and down Jay's bum crevice, like a stylus following the groove of a record. My cock felt the 'dip' in the groove every time I tracked over Jay's ass hole. Eventually, my penis tip nestled at the entrance to Jay's tunnel of love. My cock started to prize apart Jay's bum hole. Unless he had experienced a medical rectal examination, this would be his first time that something as big as my cock would have entered him. I was prepared for him to scream with pain, hoping his cries would not be heard by my neighbors. To my surprise and delight, Jay turned out to be a good little boy. All I heard from him was a stifled moan. I asked if he was alright, and if I should carry on.

Jay said, "It… feels… yeah… it feels… fine. Ooh, it's like going to the toilet… but… with something going in, not coming out."

I asked if he was liking it.

Jay replied, "I'll let you know when you're in."

I had to inform him, "I am in, little fella. All the way in."

And I was. My cock had slipped in easily, even though his ass was a tight one. Jay's rectal muscle had closed around my dick, giving it a warm welcome and embrace.

"Wow!" Jay said in response, "You mean I've got all of you inside of me?"

I confirmed it to be so.

"Wow! What now?"

I was impressed by Jay's eagerness to please and to be pleased. "I'm going to start moving my dick backwards and forwards. Are you ready?"

Jay said he was. Movement commenced. Jay's little body pushed up against my groin with every pulse; it seemed to me he wanted to get maximum enjoyment from this new sensation. I couldn't believe how responsive and acquiescent he was.

Jay asked me, "Could you play with my balls or my thingy while you're doing my bum?"

I was very happy to oblige; I reached around to his front and rolled and rubbed his dick and balls, at the same time I was gently rocking his body to and fro. A constant 'slap, slap, slap' noise could be heard as my groin met with his bum cheeks; we were rocking in rhythm; in synchronization with one another.

"You want me to go faster?" I asked Jay.

"I'm ready," he informed me. The gap between the slapping noises decreased. This was becoming the most gentle, sensuous, incredible moment I had ever experienced, and I wanted so much for my little friend to be enjoying it too. I wanted his first time to be special. Memorable. I marveled at the change in me; from selfish desire to considerate lover. Jay's body continued to gently rock to the rhythm of our synchronized lovemaking. My hands stroked up and down Jay's back, sometimes holding him by the shoulders, then back down, to keep his cock and balls stimulated. My movement in Jay was precise, and gently pulsing, not full-throttle pounding. Both man and boy moved to the subtle motion for at least ten minutes. After an ecstatic throbbing in my member, I was about to cum.

"I'm going to withdraw from you, Jay," I told him, "I'm about to spread my whipped cream all over your buns."

Jay just said in reply, "Okay. I think I've made another wet patch on your couch, anyway."

I eased my cock out of Jay's rectum, and immediately shot my load over his ass cheeks. Jay collapsed face down on the couch. I collapsed on top of him, ruffled his hair and kissed his ear. We lay like that, with my now floppy dick nestled between his ass cheeks. It was as if we were stuck together with my cum, acting as it were, like an adhesive. Jay sighed a sigh of contentment. I wanted us both to stay as we were forever, with his warm, wet little body underneath me, but I reluctantly lifted myself off him, and sat on the couch beside him. Jay turned face up, leaned over and kissed me full on my lips. A long, lingering kiss. With tongues. Jay then sat close beside me, lifted up, and played, with my cum and Vaseline coated cock, then said something 'matter-of-factly', that sent my mind reeling, "Mmm," he said, "Your thingy is bigger than my dad's".

Chapter 25

My immediate thought was that Jay must have seen his father nude on many occasions, and that Jay was just commenting on, or comparing, one with the other. I would also have expected him to say, naturally, that his dad's cock was bigger than mine, but there was something in the way the boy said what he said, that made me wonder if there was another explanation. Jay was still toying with my dick, rubbing it up and down in his hand, examining it, his eyes fixed on my tool. I asked him, "Have you and your dad ever done what we just have?"

Jay, without stopping his play, his eyes still transfixed by my dick, replied, "Mm, mm. That's why he calls me 'squirt'. It's his secret way of telling me he wants to play with me. He likes it when I squirt, just like I did on your couch."

I paused to assimilate this information in my head, then asked him, "Do you and your dad play often?"

Jay replied, "A day or so after he comes home from his trips. While mom is working at the store, or shopping with Abby, or when she's at a school meeting."

I probed further, "So… your mom doesn't know about what you and your dad get up to?"

"Oh, no," Jay replied, "Dad says it's a 'man' thing, and mom's and girls don't understand 'man' things. It's like going fishing, or going to the football game, or helping him fix the car; 'man' things, you know?"

I responded, "But your mom must know about 'man' things and what happens when you both go fishing , or to a football game, or whatever. Why doesn't she know what happens about your, er, 'playtime'?"

Jay tore his eyes away from his concentrated examination of my dick, and looked up at me, seemingly bewildered that I didn't know about those kind of 'man' things, "It's something private between dad and me. He says it's a 'rite of passage', something only shared with dad."

Jay felt he needed to explain further, "It's like mom and Abby. They talk about 'girl' things, private things only they talk to each other about."

I took the opportunity to start playing with Jay's cock, then said, "Oh, I see now. Yes, 'man' things."

I paused again, then broke the silence by saying, "I guess that's why you're telling me this secret; I'm a man, and you know that I understand. Is that how it is?"

Jay rested his head on my shoulder, and confirmed, "Uh, huh."

We both sat in silence for a while, enjoying playing with each other's cocks.

"Jay," I said, "Are you going to tell your dad, or anyone, about our time together?"

Jay assured me, "No. Mom and dad might get mad if I told them. I only told you because I saw your magazines. You're a man, and understand about 'man' things. I'm only supposed to do it with my dad and no one else."

I made a pact with Jay, "Then this will be our little secret. I won't spill the beans about you and your dad, and you don't spill the beans about you and me. Deal?"

I put out my hand. "Deal," Jay said as we both shook hands. And I had to hand it to Jay's dad, Jim; what a cock and bull story to tell Jay about unspoken, secret, 'man' things! My mind raced again, the possibilities were endless with little Jay, with his substantial cock. I had to ask, "Is my cock really bigger than your dad's?"

Jay replied, "Mm,mmm. That's why I told you that you had a big thingy. I wondered if I could take it in my bum, but it was fine."

I smiled inwardly, "So your dad has put his thingy in your bum?"

Jay replied as if it were normal, "Ever since my dad told me I was old enough to understand about 'man' things."

I nodded in acknowledgement, while thinking to myself, "Holy fuck!"

I asked Jay, "And how old were you?"

Jay told me, "When I was nine. On my birthday. He said it was a special 'rite of passage' that all boys go through, but is never talked about to others. A very private thing."

I asked him, "Did it hurt?"

Jay, under the impression it happened to all boys, countered with a question of his own, "Did it hurt when you did it with your dad?"

In a cracked voice, I replied, "Yes".

Chapter 26

I lied. Kind of. It didn't happen with my father. My father remained in blissful ignorance for all his days. But it did happen with an 'uncle'. And, bizarrely, he happened to be called John, just like in the photostory in the magazine. But he wasn't really an uncle; just a brief friend of the family. Like I am now with the Paterson's, and their little boy, Jason.

'Uncle John' was a family member of the old crone who lives across the street from me. When Mrs. Bradley's husband died, I was about ten years old, and I don't remember much about him. The Bradley's family, spread far and wide, all came together to pay their respects to Mr. Bradley. The original, human, Mr. George Bradley, that is, and not to be confused with that yapping, crapping dog Mrs. Bradley currently shares her tumble-down house with. Imagine naming your dog after your dead husband; perhaps, in her head, her dead husband has come back to her in the form of a canine? I can't begin to work out what she thinks in that grizzled old head of hers. Anyway, I digress. 'Uncle John' stayed for a while after the funeral, to help Mrs. Bradley sort out her deceased husband's financial affairs, and to wind up the estate; he happened to be a solicitor. Or so I had been told by my mother.

'Uncle John' was not like his old crone relative. Mrs. Bradley had always been a miserable woman, and was probably a contributing factor in Mr. Bradley's premature death. No, Uncle John was happy, and always passed the time of day with everyone, including me. Uncle John's modus operandi with me was the lure of candies, illicit cigarettes and money. Uncle John plied me with all three. The year was 1956. Uncle John took me out in his brand new, two-tone, Cadillac convertible. It was dark blue and white. It had whitewall tires. It had tail fins. It was a sight to see. It was a boy magnet. And I was the boy. I won't go into details, but he drove me to a secluded spot in the hills. That's where he fucked me. A few days after it happened, he was gone. Never to be seen again, either by me, or Mrs. Bradley. And he was never spoken about again, by anyone.

I continued to fondle Jay's cock for a while longer, holding it between my fingers and delicately stroking it with my thumb. I kissed him on his mouth, then got up from the couch, "Let's go wash up," I said to him. I took his hand and led him to the bathroom.

I stood in the shower cubicle and turned on the water. When it had reached a pleasing temperature, I beckoned Jay to come in with me. We both had great fun, washing each other from head to toe, and in our intimate places. Jay took great care and attention in washing my cock. It seems he was fascinated by it. Afterwards, we stepped out of the shower and I draped Jay with a bath towel, rubbing his little body, watching his generous cock wiggle and jiggle as I vigorously dried him.

I said to him, "I may have a bigger cock than your dad's, but Jay, you're pretty impressive yourself!"

Jay smiled that toothy smile, and replied, "Thanks. Dad tells me that he thinks mine has super powers, like Awesome Boy."

I agreed, "Your dad's right. I bet when Awesome Boy had that accident in the chemical lab at school, his whole molecular structure changed, including the size of his thingy."

I grabbed hold of Jay's cock and tickled it, at the same time, I chanted, "Awesome, awesome!" in a high-pitched voice. Jay fell about, laughing and giggling. When he finally caught his breath, and the mirth had died down, he informed me, "My friends call me that."

I told him, "I'm not surprised. I bet theirs aren't as big. I take it you've seen theirs, maybe in the the changing rooms?"

Jay confirmed, "Yeah. And my dad says mine is bigger than theirs."

I had to ask, "Your dad? How does he know?"

Jay drew his lips in and his eyes grew wide, looking to one side, "Oops!" he said, "I shouldn't have said that."

My mind began to imagine all sorts of things.

Chapter 27

"You mean to say, your dad has seen your friend's thingies?" I asked Jay, "How? Have you and your friends had sleepovers? Has he taken you all swimming? Something like that?"

Jay looked sheepish. Finally, he said, "Can I trust you?"

I reminded him, "You trusted me with you and your dad's secret. What you tell me stays with you and me".

I sat on the couch, and patted the space next to me, gesturing to Jay to sit down beside me. We were still both completely naked. Jay, instead of sitting down, chose to sit across my lap, with an arm draped around my neck. Jay shifted his position, until he felt comfortable and settled. I could feel his bare bottom on my lap, and on my rapidly rising cock. Jay wiggled his toes. I put my arm around his waist, and my other hand rested on his upper leg.

"Promise you won't say anything," Jay implored me.

"I promise," I reassured him. I let him tell me in his own time. I didn't want to rush this.

"That day you took me home," Jay began, "The day I fell off my bike…"

I smiled at Jay to let him know I was following his story, "… Well, dad was home that Sunday. He called me 'squirt'. Do you remember?"

I nodded. "Well… ," I could see Jay was struggling with his conscience; should he be betraying a confidence? "It's alright," I told him, "I've promised not to say anything, haven't I?"

Jay continued, "Well… as you know, dad calls me 'squirt' as a code, to tell me he wants to do 'man things' with me. Mom cooked dinner. Me and dad helped clear up afterwards. Mom and Abby had to go out that Sunday afternoon; they were going to spend some time with Mom's friends, who happen to be the parents of Abby's school friends, so Abby would be playing with them, while Mom talked with her friends."

I was getting the gist of what Jay, in his eleven and a half year old way, was telling me. "Mom and Abby weren't expected back home until until about eight. Abby had to be in bed by nine, because of school the next morning."

I figured Jay would get to the point soon; I allowed him to continue without interruption from me. "It was dad's idea to have me call my friends and invite them over. My friends, Andy, Nathan and Scott, had been given permission by their folks to come to my house. As it was raining all day, me and my friends stayed in, with dad. I thought dad wanted just me and him to play 'man things', as he'd given me the code word earlier."

I could feel my cock getting harder, and it, in turn, could feel Jay's bum hole perched on it. I think, in my mind, and in my cock, I was way ahead of what Jay was about to tell me; at least, I hoped so.

Jay continued, "My friends turned up on their bikes. Like me, they had been soaked through. Dad suggested they take off their wet things, just like you did with me. Only… instead of giving them some of my dad's, or my, clothes to wear, while theirs were drying, dad said to them, to avoid any embarrassment, as we were all boys together, we'll all get naked. So we did. We all took our clothes off. Dad as well. Well, that was embarrassing for me; my dad naked in front of my friends. But they didn't seem to mind. They all thought my dad was cool. They all thought it was fun. I didn't feel embarrassed after that; it was good fun. Dad lined me and my friends up, and asked us who had the biggest thingy. My friends pointed at me. My dad told them they were all wrong. My dad said he had the biggest thingy, and he could make it even bigger. He said he needed to choose someone to help him make it bigger. My dad chose Scott. My dad said to Scott, if Scott took hold of my dad's thingy, and rubbed it, it would get bigger. Scott is always up for a challenge or a dare, so he got hold of my dad's thingy and rubbed it. All of my friends were amazed at the sight of my dad's thingy getting bigger and bigger. All except me. I'd seen it before. Dad dared Scott to suck my dad's thingy. My other friends were laughing fit to burst, as Scott put my dad's thingy in his mouth. I felt jealous. I felt my dad should only let me do that. It was a private 'man thing', to be done by just me and dad. My dad was letting someone else do what I did to him."

I finally decided to ask something, "Is that why you did 'man things' with me? To get back at your dad for doing it with Scott?"

Jay replied, "I guess."

Jay went on, "In the end, all my friends took up dad's dare, and sucked his thingy."

I was burning to ask, so I did, "Then what happened?"

Jay replied, "Nothing. The phone rang. It was mom telling dad she would be back home earlier than she thought. One of Abby's friends' mom's wasn't feeling good; she had a horrible cold. They decided it wasn't fair on her to have them all at her house when she wasn't feeling very well. So me, dad, and my friends hurriedly put our clothes back on and waited for my mom and Abby to get home."

I had to ask, "So you, and your friends, didn't get a chance to 'squirt'?"

Jay shook his head, "And it would have been the last time to do 'man things' with my dad until he got back from his road trip."

I took a guess, "So you did 'man things' with me because you wanted so much to 'squirt'?"

"Yes," Jay replied.

"Don't you make your thingy squirt when you play with it alone?" I asked.

"Sometimes. But it's not the same as doing it with someone else."

Amen to that, I thought to myself. I questioned further, "Did your friends say anything about their afternoon at your place? What did Scott and, er, er… ," I clicked my fingers as I was trying to remember their names.

"Andy and Nathan," Jay reminded me.

"Yes, Andy and Nathan. What did they say? And did they tell anyone else?"

Jay said, "No. Dad told them not to say anything to anybody. He gave them ten dollars each and said that was a reward for keeping quiet. He said he'd reward them again when he got back from his trip, saying that he'd like them to do it again, and other things he wanted to teach them, on his return."

I asked Jay one more question, "Is Andy, Nathan and Scott all going to be at your house for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes. With their parents. And my grandparents; the fun ones, that is."

I thought, "I don't like being with a lot of people I don't know; it's not my natural habitat. I prefer to keep myself to myself. I'm not very good with crowds or parties or gatherings. But this time, I was going to make an exception; I couldn't wait to meet the daredevil, Scott!"

Chapter 28

I ran through my head the web of lies I had concocted so far; a 'nephew' that didn't exist; my alias, 'Felix'; Blondie's framed short shorts I had claimed were mine from my schooldays; Jay's assumption that I did 'man things' with my father. I had to remember these falsehoods.

Other thoughts spun around in my mind; Jay's father Jim, planning some fun with Jay and his friends on his return; Me, planning some fun with Jay and his friends, before Jim returned. Spending Thanksgiving in a house full of people I did not know – which was my idea of hell – all for the sake of getting to know Jay's friends, Andy, Nathan and Scott.

My mind was in a whirl when I thought of all the things that could go wrong, and unravel. I had to put my faith in the stars, but, it's a small world, and someone at that Thanksgiving celebration is bound to know someone who knows someone who knows me. I'd lived in the neighborhood all my life, for heaven's sake, Don't mess on your own doorstep…

But for now, I had to focus my attention and concentrate on the matter in hand. And the matter in hand was Jason Joseph Paterson. Jay had shifted his position in my lap. He had turned to face me, and his legs straddled either side of my body. Jay had clasped his hands tightly around the back of my neck. Jay's face was so close to mine, our noses touched. Jay's breath was sweet, hot and moist on my lips. I could feel his substantial erection pressed up against my abdomen. Jay's fully dilated, innocent eyes were so close to mine; they were looking into my soul. Tenderly, he whispered, "Thingy, please, Uncle Frank."

Jay wiggled his little bottom, so as to accommodate my stiff dick. Jay's bottom eased itself down on my rod. Jay's anus was also hot and moist. Jay, with his hands behind my neck, started gently bouncing his body, and his bottom, up and down, riding my dick. My hands ran up and down Jay's naked torso, from the back of his neck, down to the base of his spine. I cupped his two, beautiful, soft, smooth, ass cheeks in my hands, and assisted him with the bouncing of his bottom.

While Jay continued to ride my cock, I reflected on what Jay had told me about what his father, Jim, had said to him, "It's a 'rite of passage'," indeed, The boy didn't know any different. Jay had been fed a line by his father, and I for one, was grateful to Jim for laying the ground work, for giving not only him, but me as well, the 'right' to fuck Jay's back 'passage'.

Jay's soft little bottom continued to gently go up and down. My cock felt the warm stimulation of Jay's internal canal. Jay closed his eyes. Jay's feather cut hair flopped over his forehead, and mine. Jay exhaled short bursts of hot breath, in time with his bouncing rhythm; I could feel it on my face. Jay's hands remained firmly clasped around my neck. My hands remained firmly clasped on Jay's bouncing bum cheeks. Jay quickened the pace of his bouncing. Every fiber of my being was intensely aroused. My balls were about to explode. My cock was preparing itself for a release of the build up of my cream. Jay shifted into high gear, with a brief burst of what I would call 'power bouncing', before 'squirting'. I felt the warm stickiness of what I imagined, was his first, full, shot load, from Jay's dick, on to my abdomen. At the same time, my cum blasted out of my penis, into Jay's bum hole. I had Jay's cum on my stomach, and my cum slowly dripping out of Jay's bum hole, on to my cock and balls. Jay eased his bottom off my cock and laid on top of me, in my arms. Jay held on to my neck, kissed me on the mouth with his soft, wet lips, then rested his head on my chest. I stroked and patted Jay's bottom. We both stayed like that, on the couch, not saying anything to each other, for a good while. The only sounds we heard, was our contented shallow breathing and the rain outside, beating against the window panes.

Chapter 29

Jay and I showered. We ate. We watched TV. We stayed naked for the whole of Saturday. In the evening, the phone rang. Alison wanted to check up on Jay, and, more likely, me. Jay told her that because of the rain, we had stayed in. Jay told her that we had played a game of charades. Jay told her what we had eaten, mentioning whipped cream. Jay told her we were watching TV. Jay handed the phone to me. I told her everything was fine and what delightful company Jay was. Alison was satisfied that her little boy was happy and enjoying himself. I didn't tell her, that while I was talking to her on the phone, Jay was kneeling down in front of me, sucking my cock. And a real professional, he was. Daddy had taught him well.

I hung up the phone and took hold of Jay's head, playing with his feather cut hair, while he was busy rubbing my shaft and sucking and slurping on it. Another load of my creamy goodness splattered over Jay's face. Before we retired to bed for the night, I suggested we took a bath together.

I got in the bath first, at the faucet end. Jay clambered over the rim of the bath, and eased himself in at the other end. His toes and feet played with my cock and balls.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" I asked my lovely little water sprite.

Jay thought for a moment, "Can we go to the movies?"

I really wanted him all to myself for the whole weekend, but I thought, and replied, "Sure. Why not? Anything you particularly want to see?"

"Mmm, not really," Jay pondered, "Can we make a choice when we get there?"

I replied, "Sounds like a plan to me."

I could sense Jay was building up to asking a question. After a few splashing noises, Jay finally came out with it, "Do you remember I told you that mom and dad had a fight about dad being away for Thanksgiving?"

I told him I did. "Well… he decided not to go. He's doing a short run this weekend, but will be back in time for Thanksgiving, on Wednesday."

Jay looked at me to gauge my reaction. I suppressed my disappointment. I thought I would have a clear run at getting to know Jay's friends, Andy, Nathan and the one who intrigued me, Scott. Jay's dad Jim might spoil the party. I was beginning to think I should decline the invitation to join the Paterson's gathering.

I replied, "Oh. That's good," I said, "Families should be together at this time."

I forced a smile. Jay continued, "I thought perhaps you and dad and me could do 'man things' together."

I had a coughing fit. I nearly choked.

"Are you okay?" said a concerned Jay. I struggled to answer, "I… (cough)… I… (cough)… I'm… fine. Have you… (cough)… told your dad this?"

Jay replied, No. I've only just thought of it."

The thought of it terrified and excited me in equal measure. The thought of doing 'man things' with Jim terrified me. The thought that Jim might kill me also terrified me. The thought of sharing Jay excited me. I regained my composure,

"And how will this happen, when you have a house full of people?" I asked. With a carefree reply, Jay told me, "Dad and me did it last year."

I coughed again. "How?"

I managed to croak. "The basement," Jay replied, as if that answered everything.

"What about the… (cough)… basement?" I asked, nonplussed.

"While all the adults were upstairs, having boring talk, dad and me slunk away to the basement to play with an electric toy car circuit we have down there."

I had two questions, "But instead, you played 'man things' with each other? What about your friends, didn't they play with you?"

Jay confirmed my first question. As for the second, he said, "No. Andy, Nathan and Scott weren't there last year. Only my grandparents."

It began to make sense to me. "And this year?..," I asked, "Will your friends be with you and your dad in the basement."

As Jay stretched out his arm and began soaping it, he said, casually, "Andy, Nathan and Scott can't wait. They want their ten dollars when my dad gets home."

I blinked in disbelief at what I was hearing. I wanted a piece of the action. I asked Jay, "Would I be allowed in the basement?"

Jay stunned me with his next remark, "Dad plans to ask you, yes. He knows you'd enjoy it."

I shifted my body uneasily in the bath. "Um… how does he know, Jay? We only started doing 'man things' after you arrived this morning."

Now soaping his other arm, Jay replied, "You gave him some clues."

I put my hand to my forehead, trying to make sense of this. I ran my hand over my head, sweeping my wet hair back, to prevent water dripping down my face. "Clues?" I asked, nervously, "Like what?"

Jay explained, "Like taking an interest in me. Drying my wet clothes. Eager to see me again, even at seven in the morning. Getting me to take my jeans down and stroking my legs when you looked to see if my knee had healed. Patting me on the bottom. Buying me comics and toys. Taking me to the park. Asking to see me again. That kind of thing."

Jay went on, "Dad says he thinks you might like to be with us in the basement."

I stared into space. I struggled to come to terms with this. "You told your dad all that happened, that day you fell off your bike, and what happened the following Sunday?"

Jay told me, "Uh, huh. He wanted to know everything that happened, and I was not to miss anything out."

I thought I'd been so careful. Was I that obvious? Evidently, I was… well, obvious to those that have similar interests, maybe. But I knew Jim didn't know for sure. Was this a test? Was Jim luring me into a trap, using his son and friends as bait? Was Jay going to tell his dad everything that I had done with his son this weekend? The stars didn't warn me about this. I didn't see any of this coming. My mantra returned like a pounding in my head, Do not mess on your own doorstep. Don't blow it.

I felt as if I had, on both counts.

Chapter 30

I told myself to get a grip. Another thought ran through my mind, "If this was a trap set by Jim, to unmask me, why would he knowingly send his little boy, his little 'fly', into my spider's parlor?"

And I needed an answer to an earlier question I had asked myself, I desperately needed to know from Jay, who now had one leg raised out of the water, soaping it, "Are you going to tell your dad about all the things we've done this weekend? Tell him everything?"

Jay immersed his leg back in the water, "No. That's 'man things' between you and me," Jay replied, "I told you I was jealous of my friends, and I want dad all to myself. But if he's going to do 'man things' with Andy, Nathan and Scott, then I want to do 'man things' with someone else."

I inwardly smiled, and thought, Jim is raising a little slut. Good for Jim.

I responded to Jay's statement of intent, "So, you would have done 'man things' with anyone?"

Looking surprised at me, Jay replied, "Oh, no. I like you loads and loads, Uncle Frank. When I saw your magazines, I knew I could trust you, and I knew you knew about 'man things' and rites of passage. I just wanted to see if it was different with someone who wasn't my dad, just like my friends wanted to."

I had to ask, "And was it different?"

Jay blew the water away from his eyes and said, "Yes."

I had to ask, "How different?"

Jay moved his body to my end of the bath, and laid himself, front down, with his chest on mine, and looked up at me with a soapy-faced grin, his face right in front of mine, and whispered, "Much, much better. I didn't just squirt this time, I exploded! I have a happy thingy."

I cuddled him and said, "I have a happy thingy too."

***

After bathing, I didn't bother setting up the couch for Jay to spend the night. I suggested he might like to share my bed. Naked. Jay enthusiastically agreed. Under the covers, we both explored our bodies. Jay and I lay sideways, face to face on the pillows. Jay's feather cut hair was draped on the pillow. Jay's beautiful, big blue eyes were captivating and hypnotizing me, as we both peered into each other's 'windows of the soul'. We both stared at each other with silly grins on our faces, as beneath the covers, we toyed with each other's dicks. We cuddled. We kissed. At my request, Jay turned to face away from me. I cuddled him. Jay held my arms close to his chest. We spooned. My cock rested between his bum cheeks. The rain had stopped lashing against the windows. We drifted into warm, contented sleep.

***

Sunday morning. Jay and I had a lie in of our own. We eventually got up. I retrieved the paper from the lawn; delivered by Jay's stand-in, Saul, as Jay had informed me. The street was still wet from yesterday's rain. No sign of old Mrs. Bradley, and no sound of yapping from Mr. Bradley.

I returned to the house. Jay was in the kitchen, singing along and dancing his little naked body to a tune on the radio, while he buttered some toast. Jay's little bare bottom swayed from side to side, with a wiggle or two, as he moved to the rhythm of the beat. I dropped the paper on the kitchen table. I untied my dressing gown and sat at the kitchen table, playing with my morning wood, enjoying the show.

Chapter 32

Coffee. Buttered toast. I had other things on my mind than reading the newspaper, for, in my kitchen, on my naked lap, I had a young boy's bare bottom perched and skewered on my erect cock. Jay's pelvis rocked and rode my cock. My hands were around Jay's waist, feeling his writhing little body as he bumped and grinded; all to the rhythm of the record playing on the radio; a disco version of MacArthur Park. Yes, we were that energetic.

We prepared ourselves for a trip to the movies. We showered. We dressed. By the time we ventured outside, it was gone midday. The sun was out, low, and bright. We got in the car and made our way to the cinema. Our Sunday meal consisted of cheese burgers, cola, popcorn and Junior Mints. We watched a film called Skateboard. It bored me senseless, but I endured it for the sake of my little treasure. I pretended to enjoy it.

We arrived back at my house, with a little time to spare before Jay would be taken home by his mother. Across the road, Mrs. Bradley saw us return, and Mr. Bradley yapped.

Jay gathered his belongings together and waited for his mother. I didn't want this time with Jay to end. My bed would be lonely and empty tonight without him in it. The pile of bed linen remained untouched on the couch, where it had been since Jay's arrival. I decided it needed to look as if Jay had been sleeping there, so I unfolded some and threw them haphazardly on the couch. Jay caught on to what I was doing – and why – and pushed a fist into a pillow, to make it look as if his head had been resting on it. Cute, clever kid, I thought, I admire his quick thinking.

Something told me he had learned some tricks from his father as to how to cover his tracks.

I heard a car pull up in the drive. I looked out the window.

"It's your mom," I said to Jay. Jay bounded to the front door, opened it and waited for his mother to get out of the car. From the window, I could see crabby Abby the pain, buckled up in the back seat, looking dour. I went to greet Alison at the door.

"Hi, Alison. How was your weekend?" I asked.

Alison ruffled Jay's hair, kissed his head, then looked at me, "Don't ask," she said, "A weekend with my parents is like a lifetime of misery."

I gave a half-smile. "Let's just say I'm glad we've done our duty to go and see them, and Jim and I won't have to go again for a while. Not that Jim came with us this time, what with him doing a short truck trip; and how convenient that was for him. Abby hated it. They completely ignored her, except to complain about her noise. They've gotten out of the habit of having children around. No wonder I moved out the first chance I got," Alison told me.

"Oh," was all I could say in return.

"Anyway," Alison continued, "How's my boy been? Has he given you any trouble? Did he behave?"

"Impeccably," I replied, "No trouble at all. He was a real tonic to have around. I enjoyed his company. I'd have him again, anytime."

It was plain Alison was eager to get home, so Jay collected his things, and told her about the rainy day game of charades – the censored version, that is – and the trip to the movies. Alison thanked me for looking after Jay, as she was getting into the car, and reminded me, "See you on Thanksgiving."

I waved and told her, "I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world".

The car reversed out of the drive, and sped away. I sensed Mrs. Bradley had been watching. I gave a wave in her general direction. A thought crossed my mind, I wonder if she thought that I was doing to Jay what her relative, John, had done to me all those years ago?

I went back in the house, made some fresh coffee, looked around at the places I'd had Jay; the bed, the bath, the couch. I picked up the deliberately strewn bed linen from the couch, and noticed I hadn't cleaned Jay's and my stains off of it. "I'll deal with those later," I thought.

I sat on the couch and picked up the newspaper. On page 10, there was an article that made me almost spit out a mouthful of coffee. I coughed several times. I read the article, "Ed Powell, famed creator and artist of the hugely popular children's character, Awesome Boy, is to move to the West Coast with his family. A major motion picture is to be made, and Ed Powell told our reporter, "It makes sense to be where the film will be produced. I have an executive producer role, and I want to oversee the project."

It wasn't the article that made me choke, it was the accompanying picture, "Ed Powell and his family, picture taken last month at his parkside home. Left to right, Ed Powell, his wife Ingrid, daughter Sarah (14) and son Erik (10)."

I stared at the picture for a long time. I stared at Erik. Erik was Blondie.

Ed Powell's wife, Ingrid, it said in the article, was originally from Denmark. I knew now where Blondie, I mean; Erik, had inherited his strikingly good looks. I just wanted to reach in to that newspaper picture, grab hold of Blondie once again and tear off his clothes. Blondie – I mean Erik – looked stunning in that photograph.

I held my hand up to my forehead, and tried to make sense of this. Questions, questions, filled my mind. Why was there no mention of Blo… , I corrected myself, … 'Erik', having gone missing for two days? Had I frightened Erik so much, that he didn't tell anyone what happened to him? Was the story about moving to the West Coast just a smokescreen for the underlying real reason? Could it be that Erik had told all, and that the family had decided to start afresh elsewhere? If Erik had told all, it would have been all over the papers; reporters are like vultures at a carcass; "Famous artist's son abducted and raped," I imagined the more salacious headlines would have been. But there was none of that; not at the time, in August, and not now.

True, back in 1978, a lot of this sort of thing, especially involving a boy, would have been kept secret. It just wasn't talked about. There was the possibility that Erik was deeply ashamed and kept it to himself; after all, part of the time he was with me, I knew he'd enjoyed the experience. It could be, then, that I had awoken something latent in the mind of Blondie – I must start calling him 'Erik' – something he was afraid to admit, that he liked doing what 'pooves' do, as he had so eloquently put it. He didn't want to acknowledge the truth, his true identity. Erik wanted to insult me by saying I was a 'poove', to mask the fact that he found the sex act with a man exciting and that he was denying his own sexuality. Either that, or he found the experience abhorrent. Or, I had scared him witless with my threats.

I could go round and round with these thoughts forever. The stone cold, hard fact of the matter was, I would never see Erik again, save for a newspaper photograph. Damn! I wish I'd have bought that camera before I met Blon… Erik. The sight of him on his knees, looking back at me while I viewed his fabulous ass, ass hole, cocklet and balls, will remain indelibly etched on my mind.

I was right about him not living far from the park, "Parkside home," said the article. I figured it would be easy to find out where, exactly; which 'park side home' – there weren't too many of them by the side of the park – and by making a few discreet local inquiries, I'm sure someone would be able to tell me where Ed Powell and his family lived. You can guess what I was contemplating. I had no intention of knocking on their door and saying, "Hi. I'm the man who fucked your son, and I'd like to fuck him again now, if it's all the same to you. Is he in? Tell Blondie Felix is here."

Much as I would have liked to do that, I just wanted to see him again. Even if it was from a distance. There was no indication in the newspaper article as to when the family were moving away. For all I knew, they may have already gone. For god's sake, why were the stars messing with my head? I have Jay and his family being reeled in, or was Jay's father reeling me in? And now this. I needed to do some serious thinking.

It just so happened, I had booked a week's leave from my job. The warehouse would be closed for Thanksgiving anyway. I had tomorrow through to Wednesday to hatch a plan to try and see Erik one more time. And then there was Jim's basement, with Jay and his friends, on Thursday. "Oh, my stars," I silently cried, "Help me!"

Right on cue, the phone rang.

Chapter 33

"Alison. Hi," I said, asking, "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," Alison told me, "Jay had a wonderful time with you. It was very rude of me, not stopping to thank you properly for all you did for him. I'm very grateful. After a miserable time with my parents, I just wanted to get back home, get Abby settled, and get back to some kind of normality and routine."

I told her I understood and there was no need for her to apologize.

"Thanks. You really are a godsend," Alison informed me. She went on, "Thanksgiving. If you get to us about ten in the morning, I can introduce you to our neighbors, Jay's friends' parents, Jay's friends, and Abby's friend and her parents. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with all those people. Dinner will be served about three. I just thought you'd like to know, that our neighbors plan to leave about eight or nine. Jay's friend's parents will be leaving at about the same time. Abby and her friend are going to have a sleepover at Abby's friend's house, and I will be staying overnight with them and Abby. Jay is having his three friends stay at our house, for their own sleepover. Jim wonders if you'd like to help him keep sane, by giving him a hand looking after four boisterous boys. I know it's an imposition, but Jay especially, and Jim would love to have you stay overnight with them. You and Jim can get to know each other better. Or would that be too much excitement for you to cope with?".

It's a good job Alison couldn't see the huge grin I had on my face as she told me this. "Well, that's extremely decent of you," I said, while I was thinking indecent thoughts, "That sounds like a plan to me," I told her, "I'd be glad of the company. One thing I've learned about spending time with Jay, he made me realize I need to get back in the swing of being with people. Tell Jim I'd be happy to help him handle four boisterous boys."

The last bit was true. The rest was BS for Alison's sake. "Oh, that's good news," said Alison, "Jim will be glad he won't have to cope alone."

I bet he is, I thought. Thank you, stars, I said, after ending the call. Now perhaps, oh, heavenly twinklers, you can give me guidance about Erik.

I still had in my mind that Jim may be leading me into a trap. But I decided to cross that bridge when I came to it. As for Erik, all I could do was wait to hear from the stars.

In the days before the internet, information gathering was scant and manual. I had a local phone directory only. And phone directories listed not just a phone number, but an address as well. I didn't have a directory for the area where Ed Powell lived. It would mean a trip to the park, or surrounding area, and looking him up in a local directory there, providing he wasn't 'ex-directory'. I thought about calling the operator, asking for Ed Powell's number, but I didn't want a call to be traced back to me, even though probably a thousand boys asked the operator for the same information; I thought there would be a log of my call somewhere. And anyway, I still wouldn't know his address. Unless the stars were to offer me a clue, there was one thing for it; take a trip out 'park side'. Tomorrow.

Chapter 34

'Tomorrow' turned into 'today'. I was up up very early. I wanted to hit the road and get to my destination. I wanted, or needed, to have as much time to locate Ed Powell's park side house. Quite what I was hoping for, or expecting, was beyond me. Quite why I was even doing it was beyond me. I had this strange compulsion to do it. I was hoping it was the stars giving me instruction. I had to trust the stars.

Out on the road at 5am, there was hardly any traffic, and I traveled as fast as my old rust bucket would go. Even the speed cops had long gone 'bye-byes. I made it to the park by 5.50am. I parked the car in a street away from the park. I walked around the corner, into the street where the park entrance was. I looked up at the street sign. It told me I was in Parkside. I was one of those people that knew where they were headed, but never took in information about the names of places or roads; and all this time I had been chugging along this street on my way to the woods in my camper van, I had never known I had been driving along 'Parkside'.

I left the car in another street, for the reason that, if I were very slowly driving, it might draw attention to me. I might be mistaken for a burglar, intent on casing a joint, or looking for a pick up, if you know what I mean. The former was more plausible. It was unlikely any 'ladies of the night' would operate around here.

It was a long street, but with very few houses. I didn't know how I was going to determine which house contained my beautiful Erik. I just thought the stars would guide me. Failing that, I'd go into the nearest town, buy some gas and make some discreet inquiries as to where Ed Powell resided. I didn't need to. I started walking along the street on the left hand side, the opposite side of the street to the park entrance. The few houses that were dotted along Parkside, were set in their own grounds. About the fifth one along, something, or to be more precise, someone, told me I had found the right one.

I was startled by a voice behind me, "You're a little early for sightseeing, aren't you?"

I quickly turned in the direction of the voice; an elderly man, obviously taking his dog out for a walk, grinned at me. "And if you don't mind me saying so, you're a little old compared to the usual ones."

The man could see he had taken me by surprise. He went on, "I was watching you, stopping outside each of the houses along here. You seemed so wrapped up in concentration, you weren't aware I was a few yards behind you. I don't walk so fast these days, and neither does Tiger here," he said, looking down on an equally elderly dog, "But it didn't take us long to catch up with you."

I gathered my thoughts, thinking this must be Parkside's equivalent to nosy Mrs. Bradley and 'Mister' Bradley, except 'Tiger' didn't bark; 'Tiger' looked as if he couldn't summon up the energy any more. I asked him, "Usual ones?"

"Yeah," the old man replied, "On their way to the park, they stop outside this house and hang around. Damn nuisances, all of them."

I feigned ignorance, "Who?" I asked. "Kids," he responded, "Mainly boys, all hoping to see the guy who lived here."

Past tense, I noted he said, "Lived."

"Glad he's gone," the old man went on. It was difficult to stop him. Anyway, I didn't want to stop him, I wanted to know. "Him and his family. Strange lot. Some around here called them 'Bohemian'," he said, in a mocking way, "I called them weird."

The old man had obviously found a sympathetic ear, and was delighting in telling me all, "She was away with the fairies most of the time."

I assumed he was talking about Ed Powell's wife, Ingrid, as he went on, "Damn funny ideas, those Danish. He just stayed inside, drawing that silly crap. I mean, a guy his age drawing comics for a living? And getting paid for it? It wasn't as if what he churned out was ever going to be some literary masterpiece. Tiger, here, could write better stories. As for the kids, well! Allowed to do whatever they pleased. Some kind of 'progressive' schooling crap was what they called it. They wanted their little shits to be able to 'express' themselves, whatever that meant. Didn't happen in my day. Kids were taught to respect their elders."

Part of me wanted the old man to shut the fuck up, but he was reveling in volunteering information, and I was happy to let him continue with his tirade. "You know, one time, after staying out god knows where, the kid arrives, early in the morning, with no pants on. As cool as you like, strutting home, like one of those… er… ," he clicked his fingers as an aide to jog his memory, "Er… er… oh yeah! One of those streakers. I mean, come on, what kind of parent allows that sort of behavior?"

Before I could offer an opinion, he continued his character assassination, "Those dumbass parents just said he had been 'expressing' himself. Exposing himself, more like. I ask you, how can that kind of behavior be tolerated around here? It might be what they do in Denmark, but not around here. Damn foreigners, with their strange foreign ways. I'm not making this up. I saw him, plain as day, proud to show off his bits. No attempt at covering himself up. He could have wrapped his shirt around his waist, but no, there he was, walking along, not a care in the world. He even brazenly said "Hello" to me for chris'sakes, as he walked past me and Tiger. If Tiger was a few years younger, I would have told him to go and bite a chunk out of that boy's bare ass. And don't get me started on the girl."

I had no intention of getting him started on the girl. It occurred to me I had been wrong in comparing the old guy and his dog with Mrs. Bradley and 'Mister' Bradley. Here, it was role reversal. The old man's dog stayed silent, looking fed up, while it was the old man doing the yapping. I took the opportunity to interrupt, while he caught his breath, to keep him on track about Erik, "Didn't his parents worry while he was staying out? How long did he stay out for?"

The old man was more than happy to enlighten me.

Chapter 35

"Two nights!" the old man was keen to tell me, "Two nights! God knows what he was up to in that time. And to come home in that state, well, it beggars belief!"

I pressed him further, "Shocking," I said, "How did you know it was two nights?"

The old man couldn't stop himself from telling me, "The Powell's cleaner, that's how. She cleans my place as well. Weren't even bothered, that's what she told me. The Powell's weren't bothered about their son. 'He's just having an adventure,' they said to her. Just having an adventure? I'd have kicked his ass, and then some, if he were a son of mine. Apparently, according to my cleaner, he'd done it before. Not surprised. Probably wanted to get away from that weird family. Anyway, they've packed up and gone. Good riddance. All those boys hanging around outside, wanting an autograph or something. The world's gone crazy, that's what."

I made a 'tutting' noise, and told him, "Some people, eh?"

The old man looked at me and said, "So what are you here for?"

I thought quickly, "I heard this house was up for sale. I wanted to have a look at it at different times of the day; you know, get a feel for the area."

The old man responded, "Too late. It's sold. The Powell's moved out yesterday. The new owners are due to move in today. I'm surprised the real estate agent didn't tell you that."

"So am I," I said, "Looks like I've wasted my time."

The old man looked at Tiger, who had now collapsed down on the sidewalk, his legs no longer strong enough to stand for too long. "I'd better get Tiger home. We used to walk up to the park and he'd have a good old run around. Nowadays, he's hard pressed just to get here. It was nice talking to you. Shame about the house, I think you're just the kind of person we want around here. Okay Tiger, up!"

Tiger reluctantly and unsteadily raised himself, and both old dogs walked away. I called out, "Nice meeting you."

The old man, without looking back, raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Those heavenly bodies, the stars, had seemingly closed the door to me on Blondie's/Erik's heavenly body. I closed the front door of my house when I got back from Parkside. I made some coffee, cut the picture of Erik out of the newspaper, ran my finger over his image, imagining I was playing with his blonde hair, imagining I was kissing his mouth, imagining I was stripping him naked, imagining I had my hands all over his body, imagining my cock in his beautiful ass.

I placed his newspaper picture in the drawer, where I'd put his framed short shorts. I thought he deserved a better frame, a bigger one, and have his picture on display alongside his short shorts. For now, both the frame and the picture would have to remain hidden; away from Alison's eyes, for one thing.

I turned my thoughts to Thanksgiving. Four boys and me, sleeping overnight, with Jim, in his house. I wondered what Andy, Nathan and Scott would be like. Scott sounded the most promising.

I went to bed that night with my copies of Naughty preteen boys, Model boys and Chicken magazines. I'd read all three from cover to cover, but smiled when I saw the pictures of 'Larry' and the whipped cream. My thoughts turned to Jay. And a box of tissues.

Chapter 36

Thanksgiving. After what seemed like an agonizingly slow two days, the day had arrived. I won't bore you with the minutia of the gathering, as it only involved small talk with people I didn't know, and wasn't likely to get to know any more than now. At dinner, Alison had thoughtfully arranged the table so that I had Jim seated to the right of me, and Jay to my left. I hate going to places where the host puts you next to a female, saying, "You've got such a lot in common," meaning, 1) We're both single, 2) We're both oddities in the eyes of the host, 3) The host thinks we're going to get along and who knows, perhaps we'll arrange to meet again? Fat chance. Some people just don't get it. I'm a loner. I was only here because of Jay, and my curiosity about Jim. So, instead of describing the scene with all the chatter and festivities, I'll describe my conversation with Jim. And Jay. But before that, I'll give you a description of Jay's friends, Andy, Nathan and Scott. During the course of the day, I was able to gather this information about all three,-

Andy, the youngest of Jay's friends. He'd celebrated his eleventh birthday two months ago. Like Jay, he was into Awesome Boy, but really liked Star Wars. Andy was about the same height as Jay. Andy had brown hair, longish, but swept back behind his ears. Occasionally a lock of his hair would flop forward in front of his face. Andy's face was what you might call 'impish'. Blue eyes. Small, chiselled nose. Thin lips. Andy had two small, brown spots on the side of his neck. Plain white shirt, bright blue silk tie, dark blue little two-piece suit. His parents had him dressed for the occasion, but, they informed us, he'd brought along his 'sloppy joe's' to change into later. Black, lace-up shoes. Black socks. Andy was a chatterbox. Not annoyingly so; just full of fun and life.

Nathan, Aged eleven and a 'quarter'. Liked cars; real or toy. Slightly taller than Jay. Dark brown hair, and a lot of it; straight; and down to below his neckline. Center parting. In front, it came down below his eyebrows. When he blinked, his hair would flutter from the movement of his long eyelashes. Brown eyes. What I would call a 'ski-slope' nose; it curved upwards at the end and came to a point, but not unattractive. Primrose yellow shirt. Green tie. Brown corduroy blazer. Brown corduroy pants. Yellow socks. Brown lace-up shoes. Ah, those seventies fashions! He too, had come prepared to change into something else later. Despite his garish clothes, he seemed quiet; observing his surroundings, listening to the adult's conversations.

Then there was Scott, The tallest of Jay's friends, and the oldest. Scott was, again, slightly taller than Jay. Scott would be twelve next month. A December baby. Scott was into skateboarding and Awesome Boy. Blonde hair. In a 'feather' cut, similar to Jay. Scott kept shaking his head to keep his hair out of his eyes and face. Scott's hair was long enough, that he kept having to remove strands of it from his mouth. A parting on the left side. Bright, clear blue eyes. High cheekbones. Pale, unblemished skin. Petite nose. Upturned mouth, making him look as if he was always smiling. Glossy, wet lips. Slender, long neck. He had insisted on dressing himself, Blue and yellow – with some red – Hawaiian-style shirt, with parrots, or macaws in a repeated pattern. Dark blue slacks. Sky blue socks. White shoes with a gold chain on each. Scott had a mind of his own, it would seem. I wondered what he would change into later. Scott was relaxed in adult company. Scott joined in with the small talk. Scott, like his friends, had an as yet, unbroken voice, but a husky one; the one thing that had really turned me on about Ben. Sexy, I thought.

My conversation with Jay, and his father, proved most interesting, and promising…

Chapter 37

During dinner, Jay asked me if I would be coming down to the basement with his friends and Jim. Jay told me he had helped his father build a toy slot car racetrack down there. I said I'd love to see it. Jim told me, "Jay's very good at keeping the cars on the track. He knows when to take his finger off the button to reduce speed, and when to accelerate. He's a natural with his hand, aren't you, squirt?"

Jay said to his father, but looking at me, "You'd better believe it. And I'm not a 'squirt' any more, am I, Uncle Frank?"

I almost choked on the glass of wine I was tasting. "Erm… ," I said.

Jim ignored Jay's remark and instead, reacted to my predicament, by saying, "It's amazing the effect a beer can have. It lowers the inhibitions, doesn't it?"

Jim continued, while I tried to regain my composure, "Jay tells me he got to like the taste while he was with you."

I coughed. Jim laughed, and said, "It's alright, Frank. I was thinking of introducing Jay to the stuff anyway. You just beat me to it."

I looked at Jim, not saying a word. Jim resumed, "In fact, I have some down in the basement. We might as well initiate Jay's three little tykes to the club, don't you think? Loosen their inhibitions as well. I think you and I have a similar interest. Or am I wrong?"

I know I was betraying a confidence between Jay and me, but I was growing tired of all this pussyfooting about. It was time I gambled and raised the game. I said to Jim, "Jay tells me all three of his friends had been lined up for a challenge. Scott, I understand, was a sucker for it."

The corner of Jim's mouth curled up as he responded, "Hmm. I think we understand each other".

Later, when the festivities were winding down, and guests made the first signs of making tracks, and while Jim and Alison's guests started to ask for their coats, I cornered Jim, "I'm curious," I asked him, "When you're on these road trips, how do you unwind, alone, away from your family?"

Jim gave an enigmatic smile, "I don't have to seek out company. The truck I drive is an impressive rig. It acts as a magnet to a… 'certain age range', shall we say; plus, it has a cabin in the back. You'd be surprised what the offer of ten dollars and a candy bar can get you."

I was amazed by Jim's candor. I thought to myself, "Maybe I'm not such a loner after all".

I watched as Jim bid farewell to the last of his guests, and sent Alison, Abby, her friend and parents on their way for their own sleepover. Jim closed the front door behind them. Jim looked down at four expectant little faces. "I promised you all some money," he told them, "Go with Jay to his room and change out of your 'best', and into your sloppy joe's, or whatever you've brought with you, then come back down here."

The sound of four boys racing up the stairs at full speed was like a buffalo stampede. Jim poured out two glasses of single malt whisky, handed a glass to me, and beckoned me to sit. Jim continued with details of his 'road trips', "As I was saying, boys love looking at my impressive rig, if you get my meaning. Once inside the cabin, if I think they're susceptible, I show them a large jar of candies and a ten dollar bill, saying its theirs if they drop their pants. If I'm satisfied with their 'performance', they get the money."

I had to ask the obvious question, "And if you're not?"

Jim savored a taste of whisky, slooshing it around in his mouth before swallowing, "If I'm not, all they get is candy."

I had to ask, "Isn't it risky? What if these boys, sore at not getting their money, go and tell?"

Jim leaned back in his comfy chair, glass in hand, "Who's going to believe them? And anyway, It's very rare that I'm in the same place twice. Me and my truck go here and there, up and down the country."

I sat on the edge of my chair, with both hands nursing my whisky glass, listening intently to Jim's exploits. "I'm not fussy," he informed me, "I take what I can get. Fat ones, thin ones, hell, even pug ugly ones; whatever's available."

Jim chuckled to himself, "So long as they're willing to do what I want them to."

I took a sip of my whisky, and asked, "Which is… ?"

Jim met my gaze, and told me, "BJ's, pants down, a slap or two on their bare asses, a fuck, another slap or two…"

Jim trailed off, then ended his sentence, "… That kind of thing."

I inquired of him, "Do you ever slap Jay?"

Jim, still relaxed in his chair, told me, "Hell no. Jay's a sweet little thing. A credit to Alison, as she's brought him up mostly, what with me being away so much. Jay is precious to me."

I was glad to hear Jim say that.

The mellow mood was broken by what sounded like a herd of elephants crashing down the stairs.

Chapter 38

The boys looked different in their 'sloppy joe's'. Jay appeared in a pair of red Awesome Boy pajamas, just like the ones I had bought for him, and were in my drawer at home. Andy sported some blue pajamas with Luke Skywalker brandishing a light sabre, bearing the legend, "May the force be with you."

Nathan wore a bright yellow sweat shirt and orange elasticated slacks, that showed off a little of his ass crack when he sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. And then there was Scott, Like they used to say about Marilyn Monroe, "She could wear a potato sack and still look good."

Well, that was Scott, loose-fitting light blue sweater, with a couple of holes, and just a pair of purple, loose-fitting boxers you could just about see when he was standing up, as the blue sweater covered the boxers and gave the impression Scott had nothing on below. When he sat cross-legged on the floor, you could see right up his baggy boxers. And my cock rose right up in my pants at the sight of him. All the boys were barefoot.

All the boys sat facing Jim in his chair, as if Jim was the king in his throne, holding court, and the boys his 'subjects'. Jim reached in his back pocket and produced his wallet. He opened it, and took out three ten dollar bills. In 1978, ten dollars was a lot of money. "I hope you're all going to be good tonight," he told his adoring followers. Jim placed the money on the arm of his chair, opened his legs and summoned Andy to sit in front of him. Andy duly obliged. Andy unbuttoned the top of Jim's pants, slid the zip down, and put his hand inside the fly. Jim shifted in his chair, sliding down slightly, to assist Andy in his quest for Jim's cock. Andy pulled Jim's pants and underwear down to Jim's thighs. Jim's cock sprung up, out and proud. Andy wrapped his hand around Jim's dick and moved his hand up and down. Andy opened his mouth and chowed down on Jim's not insubstantial cock. I looked on, as Andy paid real good attention to Jim's dick.

May the force be with you, I thought.

It dawned on me that Jay hadn't exactly told me everything about the boys' previous encounters with Jim. The way Andy just went straight to it with Jim, suggested to me that Jim had been training these boys for a while. Did Jay just miss out some important details, or, as he had told me, only discovered his dad had been doing 'man things' with his friends that day he cut his knee? That would make sense, I thought. I remembered what Jay had told me, "My dad was letting my friends do what only I did to him," or words like that. Jay had told me he was jealous that his dad was bringing in more boys to the 'party', as it were. And that's when I got lucky with Jay. Thank you, stars, I said in my mind.

From my chair, I became part of the audience of boys, as we watched Andy expertly attend to Jim's dick. Andy kissed it, licked it, flicked his tongue over it and at the top of it. Andy's hand pulled down Jim's shaft, then Andy wrapped his lips around it and sucked intently, occasionally looking up at Jim, as if to seek his approval of the boy's technique. Jim delicately stroked Andy's head. Andy began bobbing his head up and down, taking Jim's cock, it would seem from where I was sitting, right down the boy's throat.

Jim made a few satisfied exhalations, then said, "That's enough for now. I don't want to peak too early, and I don't want any tell-tale stains on the furniture. Not in here, anyway."

Andy backed away on his knees as Jim stood up, adjusted his pants, and said one word, "Basement."

The boys scrambled to their feet and made for a door that looked like it could be a cupboard. The boys opened the door and clattered down the steps I could now see. I got up from my chair and asked Jim, "You have them well trained, like a pack of dogs, with you as their master. How long did it take you?"

Jim bathed in the warm glow of my compliment before giving me an unsatisfactory answer, "A little while."

I asked him another two questions, "When did Jay find out about you and his friends? Or, was Jay involved right from the start?"

Jim was more conducive to answer, "Jay didn't know at first. I worked on his friends one at a time, when I got them on their own. By the time Jay joined the fun, I'd trained them all."

I asked a further question, "So Jay thought he was the only one you had 'fun' with?"

Jim replied, "Until a few weeks ago, yes."

I congratulated Jim on his success, "I have to take my hat off to you. But doesn't it worry you that all of this is just a little too close to home? You're not on the road here. What about that old saying, don't mess on your own doorstep?"

Jim slapped his hand on my shoulder, and looked at me with a big smile, "You worry too much. Come on, let's go and have some fun with the boys. They're waiting."

I noticed the three ten dollar bills still laid out on the arm of Jim's chair, "You haven't paid Andy for his services," I said in jest. Jim replied, "He hasn't earned it yet. Now come on, Frank, we're wasting time."

Jim gestured for me to go down the basement steps. "I don't know about you," Jim said, "But the boys are all fired up, raring to go. And so am I".

Chapter 39

Jim's basement was impressive. A detailed model slot car race track, complete with miniature grandstand, bridges, grass verges and the like, stood on a large table top in one corner. Over near another corner, he had a pool table. Another corner, underneath the steps, was given over to a wine rack, replete with dust covered bottles. In the other corner, a vast array of well-maintained tools, and a workbench. "Mind your head on the beam," Jim warned me, as I took the last step down. I looked up at the supporting beam above me; two hooks, about two feet apart from each other, had been screwed into it. Florescent tubes hung from the ceiling, filling the basement with light.

The boys were all sat on a large Persian rug in the center space of the basement's polished wooden floor.

Scott supported himself on his arms, leaning back on them, with his legs splayed. I could see right up his loose boxers. I caught sight of his tight little balls.

Nathan's orange slacks had slipped further down at the back; more of his ass crack was on show. Nathan sat, demurely, smiling at me.

Andy had removed his Star Wars pajama top already. Andy's small, lithe, topless body looked inviting, "This little cocksucker shows promise," I thought to myself.

And then there was Jay; smiling that toothy smile of his, sitting cross-legged in his red pajamas. Awesome Boy indeed, I thought, as I smiled back at him.

"Scott," Jim said, patting him on the head, "Want to play 'captured spy' with me and our new friend, Frank?"

Scott looked up adoringly at Jim, "Uh, huh!" he said. It would seem that was the other boy's cue to jump up and go and play with the model race track. It seemed their services would not be required just yet.

"What's this 'captured spy' game?" I asked Jim.

"Scott will tell you," Jim said, as he walked over to his workbench. Scott stood up in front of me and enlightened me, "It's not a game. It's role play," he told me, "I am a secret agent who has been captured. I'm put in a cell with my hands handcuffed above me… ."

I was liking the sound of this 'role play' already. Scott continued, "You and Jim are the ones trying to get information out of me."

Jim returned from the workbench with two pairs of handcuffs; boy sized. Jim clicked one end each of the handcuffs to the two hooks in the beam above. Scott took off his blue sweater. My cock sprang up in my pants. I had no option than to adjust myself. Scott looked at me while I adjusted my crotch, and knowingly grinned. Scott's upper body was… was… there was no other word for it, divine. He looked like a boy surfer god, with his long, blonde hair and boyish, not yet fully developed, but toned, muscles on his arms and chest. Nipples like doorbell pushes; round, large and firmly pronounced. Golden-skinned, tanned; even though we were in the tail end of November. A tapered waist. Scott raised his arms above his head willingly, while Jim clicked the other ends of the handcuffs around Scott's wrists. Scott stood below the low ceiling beam, with his hands above his head, in a 'ten to two' clock position. I quickly glanced over at the other boys, making a noise as boys do, as their concentration was now fully on the model race track, and oblivious to what was going on with Scott. Jim began his role play, addressing Scott, adopting a fairly – no, bad – attempt at a German accent, "Zo. Vot ver you doing at our rocket base? You vonted to steal our secrets, no? Answer ze qvestion."

I stifled a laugh at Jim's performance. Scott replied, "You'll get nothing out of me."

Jim replied, "Ve vill see about zat. Ve haf vays of making you talk."

Scott was also stifling a laugh. Jim went on, "You sink zat's funny, do you? You leave me no choice. Ve vill have to beat ze answer out of you."

Scott played his part of the secret agent to perfection; he mocked his make-believe character playmate by saying, "Ooh, I'm so scared," in a jokey manner.

Jim replied, "You vill be, ven me and my friend, Hans," Jim pointed at me, "Get started on your bare ass."

Scott said, giggling, "Go ahead. See if I care."

Jim replied, "Very vell."

Jim looked at me and said, "Hans. Pull down our spy's pants".

Chapter 40

I responded with one of the few German words I knew, "Ja!"

I stood in front of the giggling Scott. I knelt down, and yanked his boxers down to his ankles. Scott's penis sprung up with a wobble or two. Uncut. Just the way I like a boy's penis. Two and a half inches [6½ cm] of erect Scott cock in front of my face. Tight ball sack. Just the way I like a boy's balls to be. Scott looked down at me looking at what he had to offer.

Jim continued with his terrible role play accent, "Das ist good, ja?" he said. Before I could reply, Jim said, "Und now, little spy, tell us vot you know, or ve vill spank your ass."

Scott replied, "Never."

Jim said, "Very vell, have it your vay."

Jim wandered around to the back of Scott. Jim landed a flat hand on Scott's bare ass, "Now vill you tell us?" Jim said.

Scott, still giggling, said, "Oooh… no. I won't tell."

Jim said, "Hans. Smack our little spy's ass."

I got up on my feet and moved to Scott's rear, to see a muscular, but not overly so, pair of tight ass cheeks. I took aim, and landed another flat hand on Scott's bum.

"Is that all you got?" taunted a giggling Scott. "Harder!" he said.

Scott seemed to be enjoying this. So was I. I indulged our 'little spy', by whacking his ass hard. Scott immediately clenched his buttocks, and said, still giggling, "Oooh… that hurt! Do it again!"

Jim looked at me and said, "We'll hit his ass together; you on one cheek, me on the other"; he seemed to have forgotten his cod German accent, "On the count of three," he said. "One, two… three!"

Jim and I slapped Scott's bum cheeks simultaneously. "Aargh!" said Scott, still laughing. I think Scott was really getting off on being hurt. Scott playfully taunted Jim and me, by sticking out his bum, and wiggling it as best he could, with his wrists handcuffed to the beam, "Harder!" Scott demanded.

Jim said again to me, "One, two… three!"

Another two hard blows from us both landed on Scott's ass. Scott clenched his ass again, and wiggled, this time as a reaction to the stinging blows. Scott's bum cheeks were turning a crimson red. Jim, standing behind Scott, rubbed Scott's backside, then traced his hand around to the front of the boy's body, rubbed Scott's stomach, then slipped his hand down to Scott's genitals. Jim wrapped his fingers around Scott's cock and started to masturbate the boy. I placed my hand on Scott's red ass cheeks and massaged them. I slipped my fingers into Scott's crevice and found his ass hole, and rubbed my finger on it. Jim moved to Scott's front, and continued to fondle the boy's dick. Jim knelt down in front of Scott and put Scott's cock in his mouth, while taking a handful of Scott's balls and played with them. I knelt down at Scott's rear, parted his ass cheeks and made a close inspection of Scott's exposed ass hole, before I licked my index finger and pressed it into his anus. Scott moaned, with his head tilted upwards.

I've said this before, when I was exploring Blondie/Erik, that I think the most intimate, the most private part of a boy's body, is not the dick, lovely though Scott's undoubtedly was, it's the ass hole; the way it is protected from view by the boy's bum cheeks, the way the bum cheeks open to reveal the secret place; the bum hole. And Scott had a glorious bum hole. I wanted to fuck it, but I knew I wasn't in control of this basement party; Jim was. I figured it best to follow Jim's lead, to see what he had in mind. Jim, meanwhile, was still pleasuring Scott's cock and balls with his mouth and tongue. I thought that, while Jim was occupied with Scott's front, I would enjoy Scott's ass. I kissed and licked Scott's ass cheeks while my finger delved deeper inside his hole. Scott's rectum and anus muscles contracted tightly around my finger.

Scott shouted, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, yesss!"

The other boys stopped their play and looked at Scott and his two playmates. They all giggled, and Andy shouted back, "When's it my turn?"

Scott, being the age he is, couldn't control his climax. Jim looked satisfied as he got to his feet and wiped away a small amount of Scott's clear cum from his hands and face, using Scott's boxer shorts, still around the boy's ankles. I was just getting going around the back of Scott. I withdrew my finger. Jim released Scott from the handcuffs. Scott stepped out of his boxers, now completely nude. I slapped Scott's ass one more time for good measure. Scott turned to look at me and smiled. I whispered to him, "I want your ass."

To my surprise and delight, Scott, with his sexily husky voice, whispered back, "I think Jim wants us all to line up. The one with the biggest dick gets to choose who to fuck first".

Jay had told me about Jim's little 'peccadillo' about lining up the boys, then declaring himself to have the biggest dick. Jay had told me mine was bigger than his father's. Jim, it would seem, hadn't reckoned on that, not unless Jay had told him.

Chapter 41

Sure enough, Scott's guess was right; Jim ordered the boys to leave the toy racetrack alone, and come and stand in line. He said to the boys, "Okay, let's see and compare. Have you all grown since the last time? When I point at you, I'll tell you what item of clothing I want you to take off."

I liked that idea; it would keep up the tension, although I already felt that my balls and cock were primed to explode with creamy goo. The boys formed a line, left to right; Andy, who had already taken off his Star Wars top. Then Nathan, still with the top of his bum crack peeking out from his orange slacks. Jay was next in line, looking eager, and beautiful. And then there was Scott; already naked, looking sublime.

Jim pointed to Jay, "Top off," he told him, jokingly.

Jay obliged. Jay stood there with his toothy smile, and his chest puffed out, proudly showing off.

Quite rightly so, I thought, He's gorgeous.

Jim pointed at Nathan. Nathan began removing his top. Jim stopped him, "No, no, Nathan. I said I'd tell you what item of clothing to take off. Your slacks are slipping down, so you might as well take them off."

Without a second thought, Nathan, the one I thought was shy and reserved, bent down and slipped his slacks down to the floor with a flourish.

"Ta-da!" he said, as his cock and bare ass went on display. Nathan stepped out of his slacks, picked them up and threw them in a cavalier manner towards Jim. With a one-handed catch, Jim in turn threw them in the direction of his workbench; they landed on the floor. Nathan did a kind of 'bump 'n' grind', turning his body a full circle with his hips and pelvis, and I watched, as first, his little dickie flopped and jiggled from side to side, followed by his wobbling bottom. It turned out Nathan was quite the little show-off.

It's always the quiet ones…, I thought to myself.

Jim pointed to Andy. "Let's see your light sabre."

The Star Wars fan dropped his pajama bottoms, copied Nathan's throw to Jim, and made a similar show of his body to Nathan's. The only difference being, Andy had activated his light sabre; Andy's penis was out and proud.

That left Jay. The only one to still have his pajama bottoms on. Jay didn't wait for his father's command. Instead, Jay made a request, "Dad, as Uncle Frank is here, I'd like him to take down my pajamas."

Jim smiled at his son, then at me, "You do have an admirer," he acknowledged, "Please… Frank, do the honors."

I knelt down in front of Jay's happy face. I cradled his face in the palm of my hand, his feather cut hair bouncing on his head. I then put both hands either side of his waist and took hold of his pajamas.

"Ready?" I said, looking into his big blue eyes.

Jay kept smiling at me as he nodded his head and said a definite "Yes."

Jay's pajamas fell to the floor, and his substantial cock sprang up, almost poking me in the eye. Jay stepped out of his pajamas and I threw them in the general direction of the workbench. I kissed Jay's cock, before getting back on to my feet.

"Now, let's see… ," Jim said, in a friendly, teasing tone, "Who has the biggest thingy?"

All four boys raised their hands in the air. "Okay, Andy. You tell us. Who has the biggest thingy?"

Andy, looking along the line of erect boy dicks, had to admit, "You have, Jim."

Jim took that as his cue to verify Andy's statement. Jim proceeded to undress. I took that as my cue to do the same. Jim quickly took off all his clothes and stood naked, seemingly triumphant, proudly displaying his erect manhood. Before I had a chance to show everyone what I had got tucked in my pants, Jay surprised all present by saying, "Uncle Frank has the biggest thingy!"

All the boys, and Jim, who was suddenly looking aghast, looked in my direction, and down at my underwear.

"Show us, Uncle Frank," Jay demanded. And that's exactly what I did. My underwear came down, and my dick sprang up. It was plain to see who had the biggest 'thingy'.

Chapter 42

Jim looked at my cock. Jim turned his gaze to his son, who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Jim looked back at me.

"Wow," Jim said, "I can't compete with that," he said, as he quickly glanced again at my erection. Jim's eyes fixed back on mine, "It seems Jay has been keeping something from me," he said.

I was feeling emboldened; I replied, "And up until a few weeks ago, you had been keeping something back from Jay."

Touche', I thought. Jay had only found out about his father's indiscretions a few weeks ago. Jim had told me so, upstairs at dinner. Jay, being eleven and a half, had not realized he'd just let slip I had probably done 'man things' with his son. I couldn't see how Jim could think otherwise; he'd allowed his son to stay overnight with me, knowing full well, or, at least, making an educated guess at piecing together all the little clues Jay had given his father; the gifts, my willingness to spend time with Jay, patting Jay's bottom. Jim must have realized what my intentions were with his little boy.

My immediate thought after that, was, what's Jim going to say or do next; admonish or punish Jay? I wouldn't allow him to do that. Tell me to leave? Quite likely. Kill me? More than likely. But he was well aware he'd told me all about his exploits with boys on his road trips; he'd been more than happy to boast about those. I waited for what seemed an eternity for his response.

In truth, it was only a matter of seconds before Jim replied. After an awkward silence, Jim, with a poker faced expression, suddenly let out a laugh.

"Well, I'll be… ," he said to me, "I know when I'm beaten. Choose your boy".

I looked at the line-up of little erect dickies. I know I had whispered to Scott that I wanted his ass, and still did. But I looked at Jay, who was looking at me, with an expectancy on his beautiful, smiling face, and in his innocent, loving, blue eyes.

Like a kid in a candy shop, I wanted them all. I wondered what Jim's reaction would be if I chose his son. Jim had made no clear restrictions when he'd said to me, "Choose your boy."

As much as I yearned to taste the fruits of Scott's ass, I bit the bullet, and said, "I choose Jay."

To his credit, Jim conceded, "Good choice."

Jim amazed me by adding, "And, as we have four eager boys, that gives us two each. As you are my guest, Frank, choose a 'bonus' boy."

It came as no surprise to anyone, I think, when I said, "Scott."

"That's settled, then," Jim announced. "Andy, Nathan. You're with me. How about a game of pool?"

Andy and Nathan both jumped in the air and shouted, "Yay!" then they both ran over to the pool table and took their pool cues from a rack on the wall. While the boys were doing that, Jim explained to me, "They play pool naked. They bend over the table. I have my own set of balls and pool cue. I aim for their rear pockets, if you see what I mean."

Jim winked at me, "You'll find a large mattress stored down by the side of the wine rack under the steps. Jay knows where it is. Enjoy yourself."

Jim moved towards the pool table. On his way over, he turned his head to me and said, "Oh, Frank. Scott really loves having his ass slapped. Turns him on."

Jim winked at me again, and then at Scott. "And one more thing," he added, as if he were that TV detective Columbo, "Jay is my beautiful little flower. Treat him nice."

Jim reached the pool table, grabbed Andy's ass and wobbled it. "Let's smack a few balls," he said to both boys.

While I ruminated over Jim's advice concerning Jay, both Scott and Jay had pulled out the mattress and laid it down over the Persian rug.

'Treat Jay nice.' Jim's words ran through my head. I took that to mean no rough stuff with him. As if I would, Jay wasn't that kind of boy. I would never hurt him. And anyway, I got the message; treat him nice, or my health could be at risk. Which was a fair enough threat to make when I was planning on pumping Jim's precious son; in the same room as Jim. That struck me as a weird situation, but, I accepted it. Jim had more or less given me the green light to ravish his 'beautiful little flower'. And that is what Jay is; a beautiful little flower, with a beautiful, not so little, cock.

Chapter 43

Jay laid himself on the mattress. He was on his side, his hand supporting his head, and his beautiful cock, resting and pointing to the floor. I laid down beside him, mirroring his position, and looked in his big blue eyes. Jay's pupils were dilated, and I felt as if I was delving deep into his very being. Scott lay down behind me, very close, and ran his fingers and hands over my body. I could feel Scott's erection in the small of my back.

"That's nice," I told him, while still gazing at Jay. I kissed Jay on his nose, and then full on the lips. Jay responded with a soft, pleasurable murmur. Scott stroked my arm, and began kissing my back; up and down and all over. I could feel his hair brush my back as he did so. He stopped a few times, to get the hair out of his eyes and mouth. Jay changed his position and lay flat on his back. I fondled Jay's cock. Scott had made his way down to my ass, and continued kissing. I could feel his hair on my butt.

One leg of mine was lying flat on the mattress. I raised my other leg and supported it with my foot. Scott took the hint; his hand slid through the space of my open legs and started to massage my balls and cock, while still kissing my ass. I ran my fingers over Jay's body. Jay responded by tightening his muscles when my actions tickled him at certain points. Scott had pushed his head through the gap between my legs, and started munching on my balls and cock.

Jim really has trained these boys well, I thought, as I kissed Jay's mouth, ear, nose, neck and throat, chest, nipples. I wanted to get myself down to Jay's penis, but Scott's head was preventing me from doing so for the moment. Scott stroked my inner thighs, while he continued his mission on my genitals. Jay stroked the side of my head, while I kissed and licked his torso.

It got to the stage, that, pleasurable as it most definitely was, having Scott attend to my nether regions, his actions were hampering my progress with Jay. I came to the conclusion that I needed to concentrate my efforts on one boy at a time. Regrettably, I told Scott to stop what he was doing. Like an obedient, well trained canine, he did, and sat on the mattress waiting for my next command.

"You're a naughty boy," I told Scott in a light-hearted manner, "Trying to get in on the action while I'm focusing on Jay. I think you need to be spanked."

Scott gave me a wry smile, and said, "Yes, sir."

I kissed Jay on his ear, and whispered very closely to him, "I'm going to see to Scott. Don't think I'm abandoning you. You're the special one, and the best, and I want to save the best for last. Okay?"

Jay hugged my neck and kissed me on the cheek, and laid back down on the mattress, happy to look on while I tended to Scott.

As Scott was behaving like a well trained dog, I thought I'd treat him like one, "Get on all fours, naughty boy," I commanded.

I could see Scott was enjoying this, as he readily did as he was told.

"Doggy style," I ordered.

Scott assumed the position, and for good measure, raised his ass up. The bright florescent light immediately above, illuminated Scott's ass and hole.

"Are you ready to be punished?" I asked my willing boy.

"Yes, sir," Scott replied.

I patted his left bum cheek, as a 'marker' for my target. I raised my hand and brought it down on Scott's ass.

"Harder, sir," Scott said.

I smacked his ass cheek again, "How's that? Hard enough?" I asked him.

Like Oliver Twist, he said, "More, please, sir."

I smacked him hard quickly on both ass cheeks.

"More," he demanded. I slapped his ass, alternating his left and right cheeks, in quick succession, about ten times.

Scott let out some noises, "Ooorgh, aaah, yiii."

Scott's ass had turned bright pink under the glow of the overhead light.

"More, sir," he begged, adding a request, "Hit my ass hole."

I did exactly that; five slaps on each of his bum cheeks, followed by a careful aim at between them, right in his bum crack and dead on target. If this was an archery contest, I would have hit the 'gold'. A short, sharp, "Eeee" noise emanated from Scott's other end.

I asked him, "Am I being too rough?"

Scott replied, "No, sir."

I slapped his ass, alternately and swiftly, on both cheeks a further five times each, culminating in another blow directly on his ass hole. Scott made an "Ahhh" noise in response. I put my hand on his back, and with my other hand, brushed away his hair that was falling over his face, and said in his ear, "I told you earlier that I wanted your ass. Are you ready for my cock?"

Scott gave another wry smile, "Yes, sir," he said.

Chapter 44

Jay remained lying down on the mattress, happy to be an audience of one as I prepared myself for entry into Scott's ass. I looked at Jay and winked at him. I positioned myself behind Scott, ready to mount him. Scott supported his body on his elbows and knees, and Scott's head was bent low, his mass of blonde hair covering his face and trailing on the mattress. I placed both my hands on Scott's, by now, red, raw, ass. I rubbed his cheeks, and spread them open. From out of nowhere, a little hand placed a glass jar on the mattress. The little hand belonged to Andy.

"Jim said you'll need this," he told me.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"Lube," he replied, "Jim keeps some on his workbench. I've just been sent to get it for you and Jim."

I looked over at Jim, who nodded and raised his eyebrows at me. Jim looked as if he was about to do the same as I was, standing as he was, behind a bent over Nathan.

"Thanks," I said loudly to Jim.

Jim waved his hand about, as if to say, "Think nothing of it."

Andy scooted back over to the pool table with a second jar in his hand. I looked at the glass jar that Andy had placed on the mattress; in a previous life, it had contained peanut butter. It had a hand-written label stuck to it, which read, "Nipple grease."

I unscrewed the lid. The 'nipple grease' smelled of strawberries. I scooped out a large handful and liberally spread it over Scott's ass, and, like an artist, with my finger, painted some on Scott's ass hole, and pushed some inside. I slathered my cock with the strawberry 'nipple grease', parted Scott's ass cheeks, and prepared for entry.

It was at that precise time, little Jay had decided he wanted to join in the fun. Jay, on his back, did an 'about turn' on the mattress, and slid his body under Scott's. I saw Scott take a mouthful of Jay's cock. Jay's face appeared, upside down, underneath me and between Scott's legs. Jay looked up at me, smiled, and put Scott's dick in his mouth.

"Well, I'll be… ," I murmured. Turns out Jay was quite the professional; not so innocent as he makes out; he must have had some fun times with his daddy, before daddy got carried away with Jay's young friends, I thought. I put my hands on Scott's back. I pushed inside Scott's ass hole.

I'll resume my carnal adventures with Scott and Jay in a while. I thought, for now, I'd describe the scene with Jim over at the pool table. I'll utilize a plot device they were fond of in seventies films; the 'flashback'. I'll go back in time only slightly, to when Jim joined Andy and Nathan at the pool table, after he'd grabbed Andy's ass, jiggled it and said to both boys, "Let's smack a few balls".

Nathan was taking a shot, pool cue in hand, bending over the pool table. Jim stood behind Nathan, and watched him take his shot.

Jim commented, "Mmm, Nathan, you've got a fine ass," as he took a handful of prime young boy rump and jiggled it, as he had done with Andy.

Nathan put the pool cue down on the table top, held on to the pool table's cushion, and stuck his bare bottom out. Jim didn't waste any time. Before anyone could say "Use the force, young Skywalker," Jim's cock had been planted firmly in the boy's anus. While Nathan's bum bounced about from Jim's thrusting motion, Andy climbed on top of the pool table to watch his friend's face while Jim pummeled Nathan's ass. Nathan had a look of satisfaction on his face, twinned with a look of concentration; he wanted to please his master. Andy, automatically and uninhibited, played with his own cock, frantically and furiously jerking it. Andy had been turned on by the sight in front of him; Nathan was building up a sweat now, as Jim thumped the boy's ass harder. It didn't take long for Jim to come. At the point of no return, Jim withdrew his cock from Nathan's ass and squirted his juice on Nathan's back. Jim then ordered Nathan to turn around, kneel down in front of Jim and, "Lick my cock clean, sweetie."

While Nathan obediently complied, Jim looked over to see how I was doing. Jim, while pumping Nathan, had heard me slap Scott's ass a number of times, "Atta boy," he'd said to himself, "Scott loves a good whack."

Jim now saw that I was about to enjoy Scott's ass.

"I think Frank will need some nipple grease," Jim said to Andy, "Go and get the two jars from the workbench. Give one to Frank and bring the other one over here. I think I'm going to need some for your tight little ass."

Andy scampered off the pool table. Jim acknowledged my shout of thanks for the lube, with a knowing look and a wave of his hand. Nathan was making a good job of licking the residue cum from Jim's cock. Jim patted Nathan on the head, as praise for his thoroughness. When Nathan had finished, Jim wiped the cum from Nathan's back.

"Okay, little fella," Jim said to Andy, "My cock is in need of refreshment. Pretend I'm Darth Vader, and I have ordered you to play with my light sabre."

Jim, it would seem, was fond of role play. Andy scuttled in front of the dark lord and did his bidding; taking hold of Jim's floppy cock, he started licking it, kissing it, and taking it in his mouth.

"Mmmm… the force is strong in this one," Jim said aloud.

Andy looked up lovingly at his master, and continued to feast on Jim's dick. Jim stroked Andy's head. A lock of Andy's hair fell down on to his forehead. Jim brushed it back.

Meanwhile, in a galaxy not so far, far away; back to the here and now, I was at the point of ramming Scott's ass ragged. Jay, underneath us both, was trying to keep Scott's dick in his mouth; not easy, when Scott's body was being rocked vigorously by me. Scott had given up trying to keep Jay's dick in his mouth; instead, Scott's head was down, and his blonde hair trailed over Jay's genitals.

Jay giggled and said to Scott, "Your hair tickles!"

Chapter 45

I pulled my dick out from Scott's ass; my cum splattered over his bum. I knelt down on the mattress. Scott cocked his leg and moved off of Jay, and laid on his stomach. Jay got himself up into a seated, cross-legged position.

I glanced over at Jim. Andy had succeeded in bringing Jim's cock back to life. And Jim's cock was being dutifully sucked by Andy.

Nathan bounced over to the three of us on the mattress, and flopped himself down on it, next to Jay. Nathan kissed Jay. Jay kissed Nathan. Nathan fondled Jay's cock. Jay did the same to Nathan. Both boys laid down and kissed and cuddled each other. Their bodies close together. Their legs and arms entwined. Both boys rolled around on the mattress. Kissing. Cuddling. Stroking each other. Stroking each other's butts. Nathan went down on Jay, masturbating Jay's cock. Jay splayed his legs, and Nathan got between them. Nathan sucked on Jay's cock, and at the same time, massaged his little ball sack. I was a spectator. I thought, Hey, aren't I the one to do that with my beautiful Jay?

I needed a rest. I was content to watch the show. It was like watching a balletic, horizontal dance; both boys intertwined and enjoying each other's bodies. The two young mattress dancers shifted position several times. Kissing, hugging, stroking, caressing. The sight was so mesmerizing, it drew the attention of both Jim and Andy, who stopped their own 'party', impelling them to come and watch. All of us were now on the mattress, entranced by the unfolding show. Nathan manipulated Jay's body here and there; finally bringing Jay's legs over Nathan's shoulders as Jay lay on his back. Nathan guided his cock into Jay's anus, and the two boys' bodies heaved as one as they performed an improvised, yet choreographed, fuck for their audience. Jim remarked, "That's my boy."

Jim turned his attention back to Andy. Jim got Andy to adopt a similar position to Jay, smeared 'nipple grease' on Andy's hole, and entered the boy.

I looked at Scott, "Might as well join in," I said. On this occasion, I laid down, and Scott sat on me and rode my cock. And then there were three copulating couples on the mattress; the antics of Jay and Nathan had made us all reinvigorated, stimulated, and horny as hell. Eventually, all of us collapsed in a sweaty, heavy breathing, satisfied, post-coital glow.

As we all lay there, I thought that I really couldn't believe that Jay had been the last boy to know about his father's involvement with his friends, and I told Jim so. Both Jay and Jim assured me that up until very recently, father and son had only performed 'man things' privately between themselves. I marveled at Jim's way of training his boys – there was no doubt about it – they were all his boys; I likened him, not as a dog trainer; no, more like a tamer of circus lions; he knew how to handle them all. And I was very grateful. To him, and the stars that had guided me to him, through their heavenly agent, Jay.

After a while, we all took our turns to shower, eat and drink, and chill out watching TV upstairs. Jim handed out the three ten dollar bills he had left on on his chair to Andy, Nathan and Scott.

And then it was time for bed. I had been allocated Jay's bedroom, with Jay and Scott in attendance. I was determined to have Jay tonight. Jim was going to 'sleep' with Andy and Nathan… in Abby's room! Jim explained that he didn't want any 'evidence' left behind in the marital bed. I could see some kind of logic to that. And I laughed inwardly at the thought of Crabby Abby's bed being used for nocturnal gymnastics. I just hoped Abby's bed was sturdy enough to cope with the demands about to be put upon it!

Chapter 46

Jay's bedroom. It was what you might call a typical eleven and a half year old's domain; pendants on the wall, a poster showing a kid riding a BMX bike, an Awesome Boy poster, the action figure I had given him was proudly standing on his little bedside cabinet. An Awesome Boy bed cover. Piles of comic books, neatly stacked. A small TV sat atop a small writing desk, with a small chair tucked underneath it, over by one wall. And the bedroom walls were painted purple. And the ceiling was painted in a lurid, mustard color. My guess was that the room had been decorated in the early seventies and not touched since. Jay's bedroom was deceptively spacious. The bed was a double, and looked new. I guessed again: I guessed that Jim had installed a new bed, round about the time Jim had first performed 'man things' with Jay.

Before being led up the stairs by Jay to his room, I had taken twenty dollars out of my wallet. In his room, I handed it to Jay: "Here. For you. I noticed your dad didn't give you any money."

Jay explained, "Dad only gives money to my friends. He says I get his love and attention all the time. My friends don't, so when he sees them, he likes to reward them."

"I see," I said. "Well, I'd like you to have the money. Put it towards your BMX fund, or spend it on comic books. Whatever you want."

Jay took the money, opened a dresser drawer, opened a blue tin box, put the money inside, and hugged my neck and kissed me. I should point out we were still both naked. And so was Scott as he bounced into the room.

Scott looked at the two of us in an embrace and said, "Starting without me?".

I could hear giggles and thumping noises coming from another room. Jim was obviously enjoying 'man things' with Andy and Nathan.

I replied to Scott's question, "As if we would. Anyway, you're late. Where have you been? Latecomers need to have their bottoms smacked."

Without prompting, Scott bent his body over the bed and said, "Yes, sir!"

I smacked Scott's bare bottom. Several times. At his request, I smacked his ass hole. Several times. I told Scott that tonight, however, I was going to focus my attention on Jay; I hadn't had the chance to in the basement, but I intended to put that right. Right now.

Jay sat on his bed next to Scott, and dangled and swung his legs over the side. Jay smacked Scott's bottom and said to him, "Yeah, Scott. You've had your fun with my Uncle Frank. Now it's my turn."

Jay smacked Scott's bottom again. Scott slipped off the bed, rubbing his backside, "Okay. Mind if I watch TV?."

Scott didn't wait for an answer: he pulled out the chair from under the writing desk, sat down, and turned on the TV. There was a late-nite horror film showing.

"Oh, good!" said Scott, as he settled back in the chair and watched while a vampire sunk its teeth into a fresh young maiden's neck. I sat next to Jay on the bed and sunk my teeth into Jay's fresh young boy's neck.

Jay wriggled and giggled, "That tickles!."

I laid Jay down on the bed just as a blood curdling scream emanated from the TV. I fondled Jay's cock. From the TV I heard the vampire say to its victim: "I am going to suck you."

I thought, How appropriate, as I put Jay's now erect cock in my mouth.

Chapter 47

Jay lay on his bed and opened his legs for me. I ran my hands along the inside of his legs, while my lips closed around his cock. My hand made its way up to Jay's scrotum; I tickled and fondled his balls, all the while sucking on his penis.

"Tonight, I will feast on your young flesh and body. You are mine," said the vampire in the movie on TV. Normally, I didn't like distractions or noises whilst I was engaged in the act of arousal and sensuousness; I just had to think back to that squeaky camper van bed that irritated me while I was enjoying Blon… Erik! I must remember his name is Erik: Erik Powell. But this situation was different; I couldn't complain at having two boys at my disposal; and anyway, the movie on the TV that Scott was watching seemed to soundtrack, and be in synch, with what I was doing with Jay. He may be Jim's little boy, but tonight, Jay was mine, and I was going to feast upon his young flesh and body.

I didn't want Jay to cum too soon, so I stopped sucking and fondling his genitals. Instead, I ran my fingers up and down his body; "It tickles!" he said again, but he made no attempt to stop me. I kissed him. I played with both his nipples. I rubbed his stomach. I kissed his nose, his closed eyes, his ears, his forehead. I kissed his mouth. I looked into those blue eyes of his, now open again.

Jay said softly to me, "My turn. I want to suck you."

I lay back on Jay's bed, with my legs open. Jay, like a puppy seeking its mother's teet for milk, nestled his head between my legs. He took hold of my erect cock and stroked my shaft; up and down, up and down, up… and… down. Jay popped my cock in his mouth. I felt his tongue explore my cock. I felt his lips wrap around me. I felt warmth. I felt his soft feather cut hair intermingled with my pubes. Every touch of his, every stroke, every suck, made me feel super-sensitive down below. I felt wonderful.

"Ah, there is nothing like the taste of young blood. I feel… invigorated!" the vampire said on TV.

"That makes two of us," I mused to myself, as Jay carried on expertly pleasing me.

"Before the dawn, before the cock crows, I will have you all to myself," the vampire said.

I didn't want my cock crowing prematurely, but I had the sensation that I just might be close to it. But I didn't care. The thought of spraying my seed all over Jay's face excited me. And anyway, I had all night, and like Jay's stroking motion, I knew when my cock went down… after a rest… it would rise up again. How could it not, with two hot boys? I couldn't hold out any longer; my jizz burst into Jay's mouth. I thought Jay might react by spitting it out, but no, I watched him as he tasted it and swallowed it.

"Taste the blood of Dracula," the vampire said to his latest conquest, while Jay licked his lips.

***

All three of us sat and watched the rest of the movie; Scott on the chair, and me and Jay on his bed, sitting close together. When the movie ended, I told Scott to turn off the TV.

"Time for bed," I said to both boys.

Jay and I got up off the bed and pulled back the covers. Jay and Scott jumped in. Jay turned on his bedside lamp. I turned off the main light and joined the two boys in bed. I turned off the lamp. After a brief spell of feeling, fondling and downright groping each other, we settled down to sleep. Except Jay.

"Uncle Frank," he said in the dark, "Have I done something wrong?"

I was surprised by Jay's question. "Wrong? No, not at all. You've been a very good boy. What makes you say that?" I asked him.

"You didn't put your thingy in my bottom today," he said.

"Do you want me to?" I asked, smiling to myself in the dark.

"Yes, please," Jay replied.

How could I refuse? The bedside lamp was turned back on. Jay mounted my prone body. He sat on my groin until my dick got hard; about ten seconds. Jay felt around his backside until he found my cock, and guided it straight into his hole. Jay bounced his bottom up and down on my cock. Scott drifted off to sleep with the bed bouncing his body. I fucked Jay until, a while later, he lifted his bottom off my cock, turned to face me, and laid himself on top of me. I could feel that his cock was wet as it brushed up upon my stomach. My little Jay had climaxed. Jay reached up to kiss me, then rested his head on my chest, and said with a contented sigh, "Goodnight, Uncle Frank".

Chapter 48

All good things come to an end, and my overnight stay at the Paterson's was no exception. Alison and Abby were due to return from their own overnight stay at about midday. Jay, like me, both natural early risers, in more ways than one, found it difficult to come round from a deep and satisfying sleep. I had Jay cuddled up to me on one side, and Scott nuzzled up to me on the other. None of us wanted to be the first to move. Eventually, we all forced ourselves out of bed at 8am. The same scenario was played out with Jim, Andy and Nathan. Before breakfast, before washing ourselves, there had to be a flurry of activity of changing bedclothes in Jay's and Abby's rooms, straightening the room downstairs, and cleaning up the basement. I helped Jim with most of that.

While we worked together, I asked Jim to tell me more about how, and when, he got to 'know' Jay's friends, and more of his exploits 'on the road'.

Jim said, "Okay. After last night, I know I can trust you. I somehow knew you had a similar 'interest' to me." Jim told me everything, "I'd always had a latent attraction to boys. But, in this narrow society, you do what's kind of expected of you; get a job, date a girl, get married, have kids, have a mortgage. I buried my true feelings deep within me, or so I thought. Until Jay came along, that is. Right from the start, he was a beautiful baby. Big, blue eyes. Nothing happened with me and Jay at all, even though parental duties mean you know every inch of your children's bodies. Nothing happened until his ninth birthday. He looked so… so… beautiful. It was like a switch being flipped in my head. My suppressed desires were turned on. Jay, I think, has told you the story about 'man things'. That's how and when it got started with him. As for his friends, whenever they came to this house, I found the temptation too much. I started to work on Scott first – 'testing the water' – with him. It turned out he was very willing to dive in. Scott was my way in with the others. Once Scott had told them how much illicit fun he was having, it all snowballed with Andy and Nathan. My one regret was not letting Jay in on it at all. Jay's friends managed to keep the secret from him, until I decided, a few weeks back, that he should learn about me doing 'man things' with them all. And then you came along. Funny how fate brings things together."

I had to agree with Jim there, although I preferred to substitute 'the stars' for 'fate'.

Jim told me about his road trips: "Anyway, when I'm on the road, I become a different person away from the family home. Like a predator, I'm always on the lookout for easy prey."

I began to think that Jim and I had fallen from the same tree.

Jim continued, "The rig I drive…"

I stopped him there, "Oh, yes. By the way, where is it?" I asked.

"It's too big to keep here. I have it tucked away in a garage a few miles from here, as do several other drivers," Jim explained. "I'll show it to you one day… anyway, where was I?"

I reminded him, "Predator… easy prey."

"Yeah, right," Jim said. "Easy prey. Boys love to have a look at my truck. I lure them inside to have a look around. The promise of money and a dip into a candy jar is really all it takes. If they object, and say they're going to tell someone, I just call their bluff, with a threat of my own; that I'll tell someone that they've made the whole thing up, just to get money and candy out of me. Who is anyone more likely to believe: an adult or a mere kid? That shuts them up."

And it's true; in 1978, no one would believe a fanciful kid's tale.

Jim went on, "Just the other day, I counted up the number of boys I've fucked in that rig. Must be getting on for twenty. Different towns and cities, different boys, but the same outcome: off with their shirts, down with their pants, a slap or two on their bare asses if they answer back, then fuck them. I have no time for niceties or to play around with them. Time is precious. I get straight down to it: up their asses with my big cock. At least I thought I had a big cock, until you came along. Jeez, how did Jay cope with your big cock?"

"Admirably," I told Jim.

Speaking of time, it was marching on. Jim, me and the boys had just enough time to wash, shower, and have a late breakfast before the return of Alison and crabby Abby. I stayed at the Paterson's just long enough to witness Alison's arrival, and when she started out the door again to ferry Andy, Nathan and Scott to their homes, that's when I left, with an invitation from Jim to 'Do it again sometime.'

Chapter 49

I arrived home at about three in the afternoon. At about six, the doorbell chimed. I opened the door to find Mrs. Bradley in a state of distress.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Frank," she said, tearfully, "But Mr. Bradley has gone missing. You haven't seen him, have you?"

Apart from the occasional wave I gave Mrs. Bradley from across the street, this was the first time in many years we had actually spoken.

"No," I told her, "I haven't seen him."

In my head, I was full of joy that her yapper-crapper dog had gone missing. Long may it stay away, I thought to myself. Hopefully, it had been dog-napped, or better still, run over.

"I don't know what I'll do without him," Mrs. Bradley said through tears, now rolling down her face. "I know he's getting on in years, but he's my only companion. Please help me look for him, Frank. I've tried all my other neighbors, but they won't help. They either have things to do, or are relieved Mr. Bradley has disappeared. I saw you drive up earlier. I thought Mr. Bradley might have turned up by now, but he hasn't. I'm so worried. It's not like him. He doesn't stray far away from his home when I let him out."

Far enough away, I thought, To leave his calling card on other people's front lawns. And that incessant yapping. No wonder all the neighbors weren't keen on looking for the little shit.

Unlike most of our neighbors that had moved in afterwards, I had known Mrs. Bradley since I was a kid. But she had never been friendly with me. Only her 'Uncle John' had, in his Cadillac car. Despite all that, I felt a grudging sense of duty to help her look for Mr. Bradley.

There's no point in boring anyone with the details of the search; just that it didn't end well. I found Mr. Bradley, not very far up the street. He had been moved to the side of the road, in the gutter. It was obvious a car had run over it. I felt a pang of remorse, having previously wishing it harm, but also a sense of relief that the little bastard had met its end.

***

Over the next few months, and into the new year, I continued to have Jay stay overnight on several occasions, sometimes with Scott. Andy and Nathan were infrequent visitors. Remind me to tell you sometime, of those visits.

Since Mr. Bradley's (the dog) demise, Mrs. Bradley and I had gone back to me just acknowledging her existence with a wave, but at least she now waved back.

***

I was invited over to the Patersons occasionally, usually when Jim had returned from his road trips. He would regale me with stories and descriptions of the boys he had fucked in his rig. Jim and I continued to reap the benefits of his trained boys. Remind me also to tell you about those instances, sometime.

***

February, 1979. Mrs. Bradley died of a lonely, broken heart.

***

Three months' later, in May, 1979, I received a letter from a company of solicitors in town, requesting I pay them a visit. An appointment had been made on my behalf, and the solicitors hoped I would be free to attend, as they had something to impart, which I may find of great interest, concerning the late Mrs. Bradley.

Chapter 50

I attended the pre-arranged meeting with the solicitors handling Mrs. Bradley's estate. The solicitor handed me an envelope: "PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL. For the sole attention of Mr. Frank Ross. To be opened only by said Frank Ross, in the event of my death. Signed, Mrs. Elizabeth Bradley."

I opened the envelope. Inside was a letter addressed to me, dated January 1979:

Dear Frank,

I want to thank you for the kindness you showed me in helping me look for my lost dog, and also for the times you would wave to me whenever you were outside your house. No one else in the street did that. I want to apologize for the way my nephew, the one you knew as 'Uncle John', treated you all those many years ago. I think I know what he did to you; there were always rumors in the family concerning his activities with young boys. As you will be aware, this time I have engaged the services of another solicitor in handling my affairs after I am dead. The reason being, that my nephew John, who became over-confident, arrogant and reckless, is now serving time in jail for misdemeanors involving young boys, which confirms my suspicions about him and you. I have watched you grow up, and I have seen the boys that have recently been visiting you. I feel a sense of guilt about what must have happened to you. I do not want you to follow a similar path to John. This letter is private and confidential and only to be read by you. The solicitor has no idea of the contents of this letter. All the solicitor knows is that I am leaving my entire estate to you. There are no restrictions to what you do with it all. I leave that decision to you. I hope that my actions will, in some way, make amends for any damage done. My solicitor will now go through the details of what it is I have bequeathed you.

Mrs. Elizabeth Bradley.

I sat in the solicitor's office, stunned and speechless. I listened to the solicitor reel off the list of possessions that were now mine. Mrs. Bradley had no close immediate family, and the remaining family members had had nothing to do with her for years. There would be no question of any family member contesting the will; Mrs. Bradley had seen to that, the solicitor explained. Being of sound mind, she had left everything to me; the house, all the antique furniture and collector's pieces she had amassed over the years; her savings, which came to a lot, and… Mr. Bradley's (the dog's) ashes.

The solicitor said, "You are a wealthy young man…" – I liked the 'young man' description – "…I know it isn't any of my business, and I know this has all come out of the blue, but do you have any idea what you might do?"

I thought, and took my time to reply. Mrs. Bradley's words rang true; I had put myself in danger of becoming 'over-confident, arrogant and reckless', and that could lead to a cavalier attitude and carelessness, which was 'Uncle John's' undoing. I had forgotten my mantra: 'do not mess on your own doorstep'. The stars were giving me a warning, from beyond the grave, it would seem.

I snapped out of my thoughts and answered the solicitor's question, "I suppose… I will renovate Mrs. Bradley's house…"

The solicitor interrupted and corrected me, "It's your house now," he said.

I nodded in acknowledgement and continued, "I will renovate… my… house, and put it up for sale, and put up my own house for sale at the same time."

The solicitor asked me, "Will you find somewhere else in the neighborhood?"

I replied, "I don't think so. I'm in a position now to quit my job. I feel like making a brand new start; go somewhere different. I've always had a hankering for the West Coast."

The End