Cosmo

The Porn Boys

Chapters 13-16

"Don't," I said.

Vladik was standing by the car repeatedly kicking the tire.

Kick, kick, kick.

"Don't do that," I said.

He carried on kicking, the stiff toe of his sneakers rebounding off the hard inflated rubber. Kick, kick, kick.

"Stop that," I said, a little more forcefully.

He stopped, but only long enough to look round at me defiantly, focusing on me standing just a few yards behind him, and tauntingly said, "Make me!"

I took a deep breath. He couldn't possibly have known the countless times I had heard that mocking refrain. All this because he didn't want to go on the hike with us. His truculence had descended into outright defiance. But now his attitude of utter non-compliance was starting to wear thin.

"I'd rather you just did what I ask," I replied.

"Why should I?"

"Because it would make my life easier?" I countered, phrasing it almost like a question.

"Why should I?" he said again, "You've never done anything for me."

"Only because you won't let me," I replied.

He turned his cute blond head once more and glared at me with an incensed look.

"Fuck you!" he hissed.

That was his answer to everything. Clearly my entreaties were not getting me anywhere.

Anton, who had been standing behind me witnessing all this, decided to intervene. He stepped forward so that he was between Vladik and me.

"You should do as Mark says," he reasoned, with a more even tone.

"Why should I?" for the third time.

"Because he's responsible for you and he knows what's good for you."

"Yeh, he knows everything," Vladik quipped, heavy with sarcasm.

"He knows a hell of a lot more than you do," Anton interjected, coming to my defense.

Vladik turned and glared at Anton this time.

"Shut the fuck up!" he said, with a scowl.

"I will if you will," Anton replied cleverly.

"Go fuck yourself," Vladik retorted, giving the tire another kick just for good measure.

"I'd rather fuck you," said Anton, humorously.

Anton turned to me and smiled a crooked little smile of faint amusement, looking almost pleased with himself. He knew he could get through to Vladik, and that he could talk to him on his level much better than I could. He flashed me a knowing glance that said 'Leave this to me' and I was happy not to interfere. I was actually relieved to know that Anton was an ally, and that he had an innate understanding of the challenges concerning Vladik. It gave me a lovely warm feeling of solidarity to know that we were both reading from the same page.

He went over to Vladik and put a hand into the small of his back. Vladik stopped kicking. Anton guided him away and around to the other side of the car. They stood so that the car was between me and them. Their top halves were visible just above the high sloping hood of the Constellation. They walked some distance away, up to a spot on the higher ground just off the dirt road and, when Anton felt I could not hear them, he turned Vladik around so that they had their backs to me. He put an arm across Vladik's shoulders and seemed to be gesturing with his other hand. He was evidently giving him some kind of vigorous lecture, during which Vladik listened and didn't interrupt. I watched them for a while in this confidential huddle, and Anton would turn and look back periodically, sometimes gesturing over at me by jerking a thumb over his shoulder. I couldn't hear everything he was saying, but when they both turned to face each other, and they were in profile to me, I could just make out some of the louder passages of Anton's diatribe, "…done everything for you… ungrateful little bastard… treat him like shit…"

Was Anton sticking up for me? Whatever it was, Vladik seemed cowed and humbled by this. Anton had a really good grasp of the situation. Watching him in action was a real revelation. God, he was good.

"…I won't…" Vladik was protesting, "…oh yes you will…" said Anton, and that was the last thing I heard.

And with that, Anton turned and marched back purposefully towards me, leaving Vladik up there by the road, kicking his little heels into the dust and evidently mulling things over.

Anton came towards me with an air of accomplishment about him, and he continued straight past me towards the tent.

"That's him sorted out," he said, as he went by.

Anton went into the tent and finished packing his gear. I followed and crawled in after him. I sat there watching him stuffing things into his backpack.

"What did you say to him?" I asked.

"A few home truths," said Anton.

"Don't be too hard on him," I said, afraid that Anton might have upset Vladik.

"Don't worry, I was firm, but fair."

"He just needs time to come around," I said.

Anton stuffed the last of his things into his backpack, zipped it up, and looked over at me, pushing his spectacles back up his nose.

"There's only one thing that kid needs," he said, with a wry smile, "A damn good fucking."

He left it at that and got up, lugging his backpack with him. I watched him, open mouthed, as he went past me and out of the tent. What I found most bracing about his statement was not his plain talking. I was already used to that. It was more that he had now almost openly declared his intentions concerning Vladik.

The best thing about Crystal Lake was that it was a closely guarded secret. It was as yet unspoiled by tourists and really only well known by the locals. That was due in part to the fact that it was so remote, and not particularly prominent on any map. That was what I liked about it. It was possible to spend days there without ever seeing another human being. Those we were likely to come across were equally discreet, or were from the far side of the lake. There was a small hamlet there, really only just a few scattered houses, and there was a small resort with split log cabins for rental that were spread out across a few acres of forested land. There was also a modest-sized bar and diner and a small jetty where the pleasure-boats could tie up and refuel.

It was towards the resort that we were headed. But to get there meant a protracted hike around the perimeter of the lake. There was a vague path that had been carved out of the wooded area that surrounded most of the lake. The trees afforded us some welcome shade from the harsh sun as we made our way along the forested path. It really wasn't that far in distance, though the heat and the undergrowth sometimes made it quite heavy going. When I had followed this route in the past, it had been with boys who were brimming with enthusiasm and excitement. Trying to do it with Vladik's grudging surliness made it less of an adventure and more of a chore. But I hoped that the trip would be worthwhile. We had deliberately taken the long way around the lake because there was a special place that I wanted to take the boys to – a hidden cove way over on the distant shore of the lake that was very well concealed and virtually undiscovered.

One significant thing happened on the hike. We stopped on a piece of high ground, where the forest reached perilously close to the edge of the lake. The bank here was quite steep, almost a vertical drop down into the lake. It was a nice spot to rest, shaded by the trees, and high enough above the water to afford a spectacular view across the lake. As we paused for a rest, I thought it might be time for some sustenance. We had only packed light provisions. I brought out some energy bars and bottles of water and handed them around. Vladik was still moody and grudging, but I suspected he had perhaps started to enjoy the hike. At any rate he seemed to have lost some of the stiffened resentment with which he had started out. He took the energy bar from me. That was an achievement in itself. Unfortunately, Vladik dropped it. It fell to the ground and bounced lightly just once, disappearing over the edge of the steep bank, and we all watched his energy bar tumble down the side of the rock and plop into the still waters of the lake below. Vladik stopped, frozen in disappointment. There was a momentary hesitation where he had to instantaneously decide how to react. He looked down and puckered his lips in frustration. I felt so sorry for him.

Yura and Anton watched this happen, but they had already bitten into their energy bars and were busily chewing away. They looked at each other, no doubt apprehensive as to how Vladik might react. I held out my energy bar, which was still untouched in its pristine, shiny wrapper.

"Here," I said, "have mine."

I stood before him with my arm fully outstretched. Vladik looked at the energy bar in my hand, then quite deliberately looked up at me with an expression of utter incredulity and incomprehension. I could see the look in his pretty green eyes which betrayed his sentiments exactly, as if he was saying 'Why the fuck would you want to do that for me?' I returned his stare with a haunting, almost needy look that said 'Because I love you, you little fool, can't you see that?' At the same time, I could see how much he really wanted it, so I tore open the end, peeled down the wrapper halfway, rather like peeling a banana, and proffered it to him. He took it, but made no attempt to take a bite from it. He just looked at it, as though he was deciding whether it was worth eating. Just then, as he held the half unwrapped bar in his hand, and before he had time to change his mind, I broke off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth for him. He readily accepted it. I pressed my fingers into his open lips just for good measure, making sure it was between his teeth. He crunched down on it with his back teeth, his cheeks bulging as he chewed. I noticed how soft and wet his luscious little ruby lips were, and touching them like that gave me a tiny little stab of delight. The others were spectators to this little transaction, and they looked mildly shocked by the fact that Vladik never thanked me. To them he probably appeared surly and ungrateful. But they didn't know what I knew. Vladik may have failed to thank me, but the fact that he had accepted anything from me at all was a tremendous leap forward. He even let me feed him. That was an unequivocal vote of confidence in my favor. I was pretty sure that Anton's stern lecture had paved the way for this amelioration in his attitude, and Vladik was starting to mellow towards me. We were definitely making progress. It won't be long now, I thought to myself.

After an hour and a half of walking we finally arrived at the spot. The hike was well worth the effort. The splendor of the cove, when we finally reached it, was quite breathtaking. We left the cover of the trees and I led the boys carefully down a small embankment. We clambered over a few rocks left by some ancient glacier and down to the soft, white sand of the cove. Behind us, trees covered the curved shoreline. In front of us was a gentle slope of whitish sand that disappeared down into the transparent waters of the lake. It was our own private little beach. This secret little spot was hidden from view except when a boat would pass directly opposite. It was such a special place, and the scene of many a lazy afternoon for me and the young boys I had shared it with in the past. It was heartwarming to see Yura and Vladik stand on the edge of the sand and they both turned and looked at each other simultaneously. Then Yura turned to me. I knew exactly what he was going to ask me.

"Go on," I implored him, "It's okay."

Yura looked at the lake, then at Vladik, then back at me. We had brought no bathing gear, and Yura knew that.

"Can we?"

"That's the general idea," I said.

This place was made for skinny dipping. As soon as the boys understood that, it turned into a race to be first into the water. They both shrugged, as if to say 'What the heck' and started to strip. In a matter of seconds their sneakers, socks, t-shirts, jeans and underwear were all scattered recklessly on the sand and their pink little butts were enticingly stripped bare. In no time, both of them were naked and running headlong towards the water. Their impetuosity and excitement was reflected in the way their arms were flailing outwards wildly as they belted towards the water and their little feet threw up small plumes of fine, powdery sand as they ran. They splashed into the water, then when it was waist-high they jumped and fell onto each other. That pretty much set the tone for what followed. They started splashing and dunking each other, shrieking and goofing around.

I stood there next to Anton and watched, with my backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Beautiful aren't they?" I said.

Anton stepped up beside me and we both stood there, shoulder to shoulder, basking in the warming sun.

"Uh huh," he agreed, "damn cute."

As we watched the boys, I knew that Anton had the same appreciation of them as me. What he saw was the very same beauty and allure that I saw, and I knew that his desires were fuelled by the very same primal instincts as me.

"Shall we?" Anton asked, pulling off his thin t-shirt and exposing his well-defined teen body.

I nodded. It was time for us to get naked too.

Anton removed his sneakers, loosened his belt and pulled off his jeans and boxers. I did the same. I could see him give my body a cursory once over, this being the first time he had seen me naked. I detected a hint of approval in his eyes. He looked damn good himself.

I sat down in the sand, preparing to stretch out and take it easy. Anton sat down next to me, his elbows resting on his raised knees, and we watched the boys playing naked in the water. They had swum out towards a rocky outcrop some distance away on the left hand bank of the cove. There were some rocks that rose up steeply on one side and tapered down towards the water. The rocks protruded into the lake far enough from the bank so there was a sufficient depth of water to jump into, and they were high enough to provide a good platform for jumping off. They were really only accessible from the water, but they were perfect for diving. I admired the boys" perseverance in swimming over there. They had obviously recognized that it was a good spot, and were busy exploiting their good fortune by jumping off the rocks repeatedly, engaging in all sorts of silly antics, screaming and doing somersaults, jumping off backwards and in all manner of different orientations.

We sat and watched as both boys climbed back up out of the water, hopping up onto the rocks once more. There was one rock in particular that was fairly broad and flat, and was perfect for diving. They stood together, synchronizing their dive, and simultaneously jumped off together, launching themselves into the air with their arms and legs flailing madly, and screaming dementedly as they hit the water. Their sheer unrestrained joy was heartwarming. It was especially good to see Vladik so happy and exuberant.

It was perhaps an opportune moment for Anton and I to be watching because what happened next was strangely fascinating and arousing. We watched as the boys climbed back up onto the flat rock, puffing with sheer exhaustion, laughing and chortling away between breaths. They had tired themselves out within a very short time and needed to get their breath back. They sat down naked on the rock, resting and allowing their little bodies to dry off in the afternoon sun. The rock was wide enough for them to stretch out comfortably side by side. They went very quiet. Vladik was lying back with his legs stretched out, propped up on his elbows. Yura was crouched cross-legged next to him. They were talking, and at the same time playing with their dicks. They stroked each other, curiously feeling out each other's body, perhaps tugging on each other's little dick, and at the same time carrying on this disjointed, absent conversation. At one point, Vladik got up and moved behind Yura, pushing him forward so that he could feel up his little butt, and Yura let him. He carried on talking whilst Vladik probed his little butt with his fingers. Then they just sat for a while not doing anything and just chatting. After a few more sentences of conversation, Yura turned around and kissed Vladik on the lips. Vladik didn't respond. He was busy tugging at his own dick by then. It was fascinating.

As we watched, the boys started to get a little more active. Yura fell onto Vladik, enticing him into an embrace and they started wrestling. But it was a curious kind of wrestling. Not the huffy-puffy kind of wrestling that boys usually engaged in, and quite unlike their wrestling from last night. This was a more gentle, playful, sensuous kind of frolicking, interspersed with spontaneous sexual affectations and loving little gestures. They tumbled around on the rock, intermittently stopping to try out all sorts of different things. They would huddle, kiss, stroke and fondle each other, adjusting their bodies to whatever felt good. If they didn't like it, they tried something else. Sometimes they would just stop and take a break, as though a hiatus in the proceedings was inconsequential. Keeping the momentum going was not a priority. They could just resume whenever they felt like it. It didn't matter if they both had a boner or not. Sometimes one of them would just sit there, maybe preoccupied by something else, while the other tried something out on him – it was just so relaxed and laissez-faire. What I realized from watching the boys interacting like this was that this was what little boy sex was all about. Little boy sex was not like adult sex. It was more open and spontaneous. It was not as oppressive, mainly because it was not about orgasms and cumming. In fact, cumming seemed almost of no importance. It was more about interacting, doing what felt good and having fun. The biggest difference was in the way they interacted with each other. Unlike adult sex, they laughed and giggled a lot. At one point Vladik got behind Yura again and this time actually stuck his stiff little dick into Yura's butt. It seemed to go in with consummate ease, and failed to elicit the little yelp of pain that my cock had always inflicted. Vladik fucked into him slowly, and they rocked together for a few short strokes, then he pulled out again. Vladik sat back down, inspecting his little dick, which was still standing up clear and hard in his crotch. Yura turned and leaned over him and gave Vladik's dick a quick suck, bobbing his head on it a couple of times. And they actually talked intermittently while they were doing this, carrying on a disjointed, halting dialogue as their bodies busily pleasured each other. There was eye contact and smiles, and lots of whispering and – nicest of all – lots of little kisses. Not heavy, sensual kissing, like they had engaged in last night, with tongues and all that. These kisses were more like friendly little nips, which they administered to each other as they played, almost like two little puppies having a friendly play-fight. And that was exactly what it appeared to be – a play-fight, where they enjoyed the physical sensation of their bodies tumbling and writhing together, and where they were able to stroke and probe and finger and explore every part of their bodies, as though it was all new to them and nothing was forbidden. God, it was beautiful.

Anton and I were both mesmerized by this spectacle. When the boys felt they had enough, they both settled down and relaxed back on the rock side by side. Their little boners were still perceptibly stiff, but not at that moment the center of attention. Then, after a brief pause, and without any prompting whatsoever, we saw Yura rise up onto his knees and take hold of his little dick. He moved in so that he was between Vladik's legs, and knelt there with his little dick in his hand. Vladik said nothing. He carried on lying there, studiously watching in anticipation, apparently not at all fazed by Yura's antics. Vladik's rather large boydick was now sticking straight up in his crotch, betraying his extreme state of arousal, pulsing expectantly. Yura was kneeling between his legs, looking down, holding his semi-erect little boydick in his hand and, after a few wordless seconds of concentration, there was a tentative squirt of lightly colored pee, which developed into a steady stream and which he directed all over Vladik's stiff dick, his hairless balls and tight little tummy. He seemed to be enjoying it. They were both smiling and giggling with pleasure and exchanging idle remarks as they did it. I could tell Vladik was extremely aroused by it. Vladik brought one hand around to feel the warm sprinkle of Yura's pee between his fingers and was moving his hard little dick back and forth under the gentle little stream, and he was enthusiastically rubbing the wetness all over his tummy, savoring it as though it was some kind of therapeutic embrocation. He was smiling up at Yura with an almost sycophantic expression.

When Yura had emptied his bladder all over Vladik, he shook off his little dick and sat down between Vladik's legs. Vladik sat up, hugging Yura real close, so that his chest was against Yura's back. You could see that the affection that passed between them was deep and genuine. It was apparent in their caring gestures and the gentle way they ministered to each other. The way Vladik cuddled Yura, so gently and closely, was testimony to the love that he felt towards him. It also reassured me that Vladik was actually a very loving little boy. Despite his outward truculence and hostility, he was capable of very real affection. Watching him with Yura was curiously fascinating, strangely pleasing and extremely arousing. They laid back together for a few moments, with Vladik cuddling Yura close to him, reaching around, stroking Yura's chest and squeezing his little dick and hooking his long slender legs around Yura in the most loving and affectionate way. Yura stroked Vladik's smooth thighs as they were wrapped around his hips. Then I saw Vladik close his eyes in pleasure and tilt his blond head back slightly, and there was a moment of quiet anticipation where they both concentrated for a few seconds, saying nothing. Vladik's face transfigured into an expression of extreme relief. Yura started smiling and giggling and he was flexing his shoulders, moving them back and forth as though in an exaggerated shudder. Vladik looked down at Yura's little ass, which was nestled right up against his crotch. He had peed all up Yura's back and was reciprocally rubbing the wetness into Yura's skin. Yura leaned forward slightly and arched his back, closing his eyes in pure pleasure, evidently pleased to have Vladik's pee massaged into his back. They both had these broad, almost manic grins, as though this was some kind of achievement for them. But there was also something else. Something in their posture, their demeanor, their very expressions, that denoted something very special had taken place. This pissing thing seemed to be a token of the friendship between them, as though they considered it an act of their mutual affection. Their little pissing games were really something else. But god, they were extremely arousing.

I remembered that Anton was sitting on the sand next to me and had witnessed all this with me. We looked at each other and exchanged a good-natured laugh.

"Wonder where they learned to do that," said Anton facetiously, breaking the spell somewhat.

It was clear that we had both enjoyed their little performance. Then when we looked back towards the rocks, the boys had gone. They had slipped back into the water and were busily dunking each other and playing as though what had just happened was now completely forgotten, lost somewhere in the haze of that occluded twilight zone that lay somewhere between their libidos and their memories.

I was so relaxed, I must have fallen asleep. I was lying face down in the sand, with one arm up around my head and my face turned to one side, buried into my elbow. I guess it was to shield my eyes from the blinding sun. The peace and tranquility of the cove induced a soporific stupor that was consolidated by the warming, enervating rays of the sun. When I woke up again, Anton was sitting there with Vladik. I opened my eyes and, without stirring, just watched them for a while. Vladik was obediently plopped in the sand with his ankles splayed out underneath him, totally relaxed, and Anton was knelt down behind him busily smearing his back with sun cream. Vladik's golden skin was greasy with the stuff, and Anton was relishing the task of rubbing his little body all over. Yura was sat nearby observing enviously.

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. As Anton was rubbing his shoulders, Vladik turned his head, as though to look at him, and Anton leaned over his shoulder and kissed him on the lips. It was a beautiful little kiss, short and sweet, but oh so loving. Vladik smiled to himself, and carried on sitting there while Anton rubbed the sun cream all over him. Anton carried on, apparently unfazed, but I knew how much he must have enjoyed kissing those voluptuous lips. When he had finished, he slapped Vladik gently on the back and sent him on his way.

"Me next," said Yura.

Anton was about to put the sun cream away, but relented.

"Okay, come on then," he consented, and Yura came and settled down in Vladik's place.

When he had finished, Yura ran off and went to play with Vladik in the water. I watched as Anton put the sun cream away and followed Yura into the water. He rose up and ran down into the lake, and I watched his naked teen body wading in. He tipped into the lake and swam out to where the boys were playing. They saw him approach and both swam over to him, excitedly jumping onto him, squealing and laughing as they clambered onto him. He shook them off, then chased them. When he caught them, they jumped up and both clung to him again, trying to pull him under. They were giggling with excitement as he lifted them clear of the water. He was very strong, with one boy hanging off each arm. I stretched out on the sand and watched them, their high-pitched voices shrieking with exhilaration, and Anton rising up out of the water with both boys clinging to him like limpets.

Anton was really good with the boys, and his easy-going, natural demeanor was perfectly suited to them. He genuinely liked them and they were very drawn to him. I think we all were. It wasn't just his smoldering looks and his sexual allure that was so attractive, though they were a big part of his persona. It was more his actions, his body language and the way he moved. There was just something about this boy that was infinitely appealing.

I fell asleep again. I don't know how long I was asleep, but this time I was pulled back from my reverie by the sensation of little fingers stroking my back. I knew it was Yura. I just knew the feel of his fingers – even though his touch was feather-light, and it was only the barest contact of the little pads on the tips of his fingers, I knew it was him.

"That feels good, little buddy," I murmured, without moving.

He pressed his fingertips into me a lot harder and then I felt him throw his wet body across me, and sat astride my butt, rather like mounting a bicycle. His body dripped water all over my back, giving me an impromptu little cold shower. I could feel his weight bearing down on my coccyx, the underside of his soft, wet little butt sensuously pressing into my pelvis and grinding my crotch even harder into the sand. He leaned forward. His little dick was hard and digging into the small of my back like a hot little poker. He hunched over me, stimulating his little dick against me with a couple of involuntary thrusts of his hips, and I knew he wanted to fuck. He started massaging my back. His little hands reached up and squeezed the hardened fleshy muscles in my shoulders, in exactly the same way he had seen me do to him. He was actually quite good at mimicking the actions he had witnessed. His little fingers were so light and nimble, and his touch was so delicate and tender. His massage was ineffectual, but his touch was loving and authentic. It sent magical shivers all through me, warming my whole body with little soothing waves of electricity from the energy he projected into me. And all the time he was doing this, he said nothing at all. When he had finished, he kissed me on the back of the neck and got up and ran back towards the water. What a wonderful little boy he was.

I watched Yura running back to the edge of the lake and saw how the cheeks of his pert little bubble butt moved up and down as he ran, and it looked like the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. I looked out across the cove and saw that Vladik had climbed up onto the rocks, and this time Anton had joined him. This was his opportunity to get close to Vladik and perhaps enjoy a little boymoment of their own. Vladik stretched out, looking set to do a spot of sunbathing on the rock. Anton settled next to him and was lovingly caressing his chest and tummy. Watching them together was a beautiful sight. But Yura was all alone. He saw that Vladik was now in the company of Anton, and they were busily cuddling up, stretched out on that rock where there simply wasn't room for three. Yura looked around and decided to come back to me. He came running back to where I was still stretched out sleepily on the sand.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"Swim with me?"

"In a minute," I said, still sleepy.

"Come on Mark. Swim with me. The water's great!"

"In a minute," I said again.

"No, now," he insisted, and proceeded to tug at my wrist as though to drag me into the water, "come on."

"Yes sir!" I replied, with a mock salute.

He laughed, but stood there expectantly, waiting for me to get up. Resignedly, I rose up. I could see Yura eyeing me up, his blue eyes roving over my muscled chest and abs, my crotch and thighs. He had a way of really taking in every detail, closely admiring my physique. I could see how much he was really into me. Then he grabbed my wrist and literally propelled me over to the lake.

We ran into the water together, and at a good depth we plunged under the surface. The sudden coolness of the water made my hot skin tingle all over. As we rose back up, Yura lunged at me, playfully pulling me back under. He seemed overjoyed to have got his way, as though coaxing me into the water was his cue to start misbehaving. That pretty much set the tone for what followed. We spent a good long time playing in the water, with Yura engaging in some crazy antics. A lot of his behavior was boyish exuberance, but a lot of it was also highly sexualized and provocative. And he liked to play very physical, tactile games in the water, with lots of bodily contact and rough and tumble. He was highly excitable, constantly laughing and giggling, his high-pitched screams and shouts echoing off the surface of the lake. He splashed me, and I splashed him back. He would jump on me and try to pull me under. He was also very good at diving under the surface and swimming between my legs. What he loved more than anything was climbing up onto me and using me as a diving platform. He would step up onto my shoulders, balancing himself precariously, and then spring upwards, diving back into the water, sometimes gracefully, sometimes clumsily. I would hold onto his heels and propel him upwards as he jumped, and no sooner was he in the water, he would come back for more. He also liked to entice me into chasing him, disappearing below the surface, darting around, twisting and turning with all the agility of a little otter. I tried my best to swim after him, but he was too fast. He was quite an accomplished swimmer. Several times I found myself ambushed by him swimming up behind me, jumping on me by surprise, from time to time hugging me affectionately. I knew that his objective was to seduce me. Of that there was no doubt. And it was fascinating to watch him work. Of course, it was good when he was direct and unequivocal, like when he would simply bark out 'Fuck me' when he wanted sex. But there was something beautiful about watching him go about it in a more guileful and artful way, with some impressive little techniques which were not only beautifully executed, but also highly effective. Sometimes he just jumped up and kissed me, either on the lips or some other part of my body, the back of my neck, my chest, my stomach, my thighs. That was a real turn-on. It was a really intense, physical dance we were engaged in, with such profound sexual overtones that sometimes it was difficult to believe that Yura was still only ten years old. He was such a little cock-teaser it defied belief. Several times I could see him grab at his little dick which impressively sustained an unwavering little boner, and he would press his crotch up against me at every opportunity, poking his hot little rod of pleasure right into every part of my body. I swear he must have had a hard-on nearly all the time we were playing. God knows, I certainly did.

Yura pulled me under one last time, and as we came back up to the surface together he suddenly jumped on me. He sort of fell towards me and clasped his arms around my neck, jumping up and wrapping his slender thighs around my waist and kissing me hard on the lips. I stood there in the water, with him clinging to me. Our lips were locked together for a few prolonged moments, and I tasted his hot little mouth. At the same time I could feel his little boydick, still as hard as wood, digging into my muscled stomach. God, this kid was so horny. He must have sustained that little hard-on for most of the afternoon, having had it almost continuously from the time he began playing with Vladik. I knew he desperately wanted to fuck. I couldn't pretend that I hadn't looked forward to fucking him again, especially after seeing the way he had fucked about with Vladik last night. Somehow the thought of him and Vladik cavorting around like that made me want to fuck him even more. It was the thought of experiencing the ultimate thrill with the same little body that Vladik had so wantonly defiled last night.

Eventually, I'd had enough of his teasing. Yura had worked me up into such a sexual frenzy, I peeled him off me and carried him over to the rocks. His boyish frame was imperceptibly light. I put him down into the water and pinned his shoulders back against the rocks, holding him there. He was a little taken aback and looked at me with a wide-eyed, almost shocked expression, the water droplets holding fast on his waxy skin.

"God, little buddy," I exclaimed plaintively, "Do you know what you're doing to me?"

He stared back at me in disbelief, momentarily confused by my austerity. But I think he quickly worked out what was going on. As usual, he broke into a sweet smile, which was almost a look of self satisfaction, a smirk of smugness, as though realizing that he had finally achieved his objective. Defiantly, he stared into my eyes, looking serious for a moment, and as I held onto his shoulders, he reached out under the water and, quite purposefully, he plunged his little hand into my crotch, and took hold of my cock. The feeling of his little hands down there was exquisite. I closed my eyes, enraptured with the pleasure. He had a good feel around, and as I opened my eyes again he was staring at me intently. I didn't stop him. Although we were standing in cold water, I had a raging hard-on. His little hand around the head of my cock was pure ecstasy. With his other hand I could see him grabbing at his own hard little dick. It was just too much. I had to fuck him. I pulled his naked little body towards me, lifted him up and held him onto my chest, pinning him against me with one arm. He reciprocated by clasping his arms around my neck again. I could feel him clinging to me with his thighs, his slender legs wrapped around me, impetuously thrusting his hard little boydick into my stomach, desperate for some relief himself. Pinning Yura up against the rocks, I steadied my cock just at the entrance to his little hole, and I could feel the little funnel of his cunt holding my cockhead in place. I braced myself and forced his hips down violently, making one big greedy lunge upwards into his boyhole. He took my cock into his hot little boycunt with virtually no formality whatsoever, letting out a high pitched yelp of pain as I punched through his sphincter. The sheer warmth of burying my cock into his little cunt was heavenly.

"Is this what you want?" I said breathlessly, into his ear, as I held him close, working my big cock deeper and deeper into him.

He stared directly at me, his big eyes like two little pools of azure blue, drawing me into him in the same way as his sweet little boypussy was sucking my cock up into his body. He was so experienced, so well practiced, that it felt like his little cunt had been made just for my cock, like it was fashioned just to afford me the thrill of this moment, perfectly accommodating my burning hardness into his most intimate place, and work the spunk out of me in the most uncompromising way. This was the first time I had fucked him since Vladik's arrival and, although it had only been a matter of days, I had missed it. It felt good to be up him again. God, how I had missed his little cunt.

My cock was buried so deeply, so firmly into him, like we were locked together. It was a moment of utter synchronicity and harmony. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his face into the side of my neck. Meanwhile, under the water, I thrust as hard as I could up into his boyhole, making him squeal from the pain. But he was remarkably compliant, almost as though he welcomed it. I stopped and held him there for a moment, impaled on me, savoring the hot tightness around my dick, and gave him a few slow thrusts. I was aware of the water lapping gently around us, and I held firmly onto his slim hips, steadying him as I was thrusting into him. Then his little body relaxed as he adjusted to my cock, and he started with the dirty talk. How I loved his dirty talk.

"Oh yeh. Fuck me Mark. Please fuck me."

Between mutterings he would kiss me excitedly, on my lips, my cheeks, my neck, and I could feel his hot little tongue probing insistently into my mouth as I fucked him.

"Yeh, stick it in me real hard," he went on.

As he was whispering these things, I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. I kissed him hard, sticking my tongue into his sweet dirty little mouth. I nibbled his lips and sucked on his protruding little tongue, and I whispered back.

"You're so fuckin' special little buddy," I whispered, "I love you so much, you know that?"

He liked that. My words seemed to galvanize him.

"Fuck me Mark."

I fucked into him as hard as I could. He stiffened and grasped my neck even tighter, rigid with the pain of my thrusting, and he let out another little squeal. But he bore it bravely, no doubt appreciating the difference of having a real man's cock buried in his sweet little boyhole. I thought about him fucking around with Vladik last night, and how Vladik had half-heartedly fucked his little cunt earlier and pissed over his pretty little body. For some reason that just made me want to fuck him even harder.

"I really love you little buddy."

That seemed to excite him even more and he responded with renewed vigor to my expression of affection. He was meeting my thrusts by bringing his impaled body down hard onto my cock, each time emitting a little squeal of delight. Again, his movements were instinctive and perfectly synchronized, as though he knew exactly what to do. As he did so, he stimulated his own little dick against my stomach, and that rapidly became his focus. It did not take long to work himself up into a state where the only thing that mattered was his stiff little boydick and his own satisfaction. He was squealing more emphatically now in time with his own rhythm, fucking himself on my hard dick, and I could feel, as I held him close, the way his little body was literally bursting with need – the need to cum. His little dick was swelling turgidly, literally straining for release. His orgasm arrived with frightening suddenness. He seemed to freeze for a moment, gripping me tightly, his delicate little fingers digging into my back, and he pressed his crotch hard against me, uttering one single urgent high-pitched 'Ugh!' His whole body pulsed with the intensity of it and I could feel the spasms of his little dick, wriggling urgently on its own, buried in the space between us, firmly thrust against my stomach. I could feel the little squirts of hot watery boyspunk against my skin, which dribbled down into my crotch and was washed away by the lake water. Most of all, as he was cumming, I could feel a series of strong contractions that gripped my hard dick which was still encased in his hot, tight little boyhole. Another couple of thrusts into that pulsing little hole, and it sent me over the edge too. I finally succumbed to the urgency to pump my spunk into him. My cock gave one big tangible spasm of pleasure and I grunted loudly into his ear. I thrust into him particularly hard and wedged my cock into him as deep as I could, as I shot my spunk into his tight little ass, neatly injecting it into his hot, wet hole. That was followed by several pretty strong waves, and I could even feel my hot cum splashing back onto my cock as I stabbed insistently into the confines of his boycunt. It was a delicious orgasm. I had fucked my spunk into his little body deep and hard, and he took it. This sweet, beautiful, horny little fuckboy took it all.

As we both came down from the most incredible high, I pulled my still hard cock out of his little body. It was lodged inside him so deep and tight that he winced when I pulled out, letting out a single involuntary little whimper. His disappointment was tangible as my cock left his tender boyhole vacant and dilated. He collapsed onto me, utterly drained. I was suddenly aware that I was supporting his weight almost completely. He was clinging onto me in something of a daze. That was so cute the way his little body was so completely spent after that particularly powerful boy cum. He was sapped of all his energy, the energy he had expended in his efforts to please me. Supporting his weight, I carried his naked, almost comatose little body over to the bank and out of the water. His sweet little head was lolling about on my shoulder. Laying him down onto the soft sand by the side of the lake with his eyes closed, I sat down and laid alongside him. I leaned over him lovingly, kissing his lovely wet head all over, on his forehead, on his closed eyelids, the tip of his nose, his chin, and just watched over him protectively as he recovered.

As we laid there, I looked over this beautiful little boy that was stretched out on the sand, and I sighed at the sheer wonder of him. I saw how his little body pulsed with short, quick breaths as we both entered a period of resolution and enjoyed a prolonged boymoment. It was a beautiful, memorable little boymoment, made all the more special by the splendor of the lake and the idyll of lying there by the water, out in the open air, with the sun warming our naked bodies. The droplets of water glistened on his pretty face, and his skin had a polished gloss of wetness which seemed to accentuate the contours of his tiny frame as he laid there. His flat tummy fell away in a slight depression between his rib cage and his hip bones, and the muscles of his little six-pack were barely discernible. The flawless young skin of his chest was taut, sheathing the reticulated network of little ribs below, and his body pulsed ever so lightly with every little breath. God, this boy was so beautiful.

We sat there in silence for a good long time, basking in this perfect little boymoment. Then, when he had rested sufficiently, he tilted his head back and looked up at me. I could see his seductively long eyelashes still damp and clumped together, and he thought for a few moments, with a look of wonder and serenity in his eyes.

"Happy?" I asked.

He slowly closed his eyes and nodded contentedly as he laid there.

"Oh Mark, why can't it be like this all the time?"

It was such a telling remark, and so symptomatic of Yura. It was a simple phrase, almost a rhetorical question, and yet it was imbued with connotations that betrayed his depth and maturity. He knew the value of these moments. He knew better than anybody the stark contrast between the simple, fleeting pleasure that we were enjoying right now, and the depths of the pain and anguish he had suffered in the past. What a shame that he had had to learn from such an early age that pleasure, and the enjoyment of it, was always going to be only transitory.

I looked around and saw the idyll of the situation we now found ourselves in. I saw the perfect scenery, with the beauty of the lake, the majesty of the forest and the splendor of the mountains rising up beyond the trees. I saw Anton and Vladik, warming themselves in the sun over by the rocks. I saw these wonderful little boys in all their naked glory, and thought of how they had been frolicking free in the water, playfully interacting with each other, laughing and smiling, relaxed and untroubled by the cares of the world, temporarily reprieved from all the unhappy memories they had stored up inside. For the moment they were able to be the happy little boys that they truly were, free to express themselves and to enjoy the love and affection that passed between us. I thought about how beautiful those boys were. They were very special little boys – precious and rare. They gave so freely of their pretty little bodies, and welcomed the sexual thrill with a relish and gusto that deserved the utmost respect. At this moment I knew that Anton and I were free to do whatever we wanted with these boys – and that they would welcome it, that they would accede to whatever carnal demands we cared to make, and probably enjoy it. What strange set of circumstances had conspired to bring about this perfect moment? And as these thoughts were swirling about in my head, I had to sigh in wonderment at the sheer unencumbered pleasure that I was experiencing, and I thought to myself, it just doesn't get any better than this.

Chapter 14
Crystal Lake – II

Yura and Vladik were still excitable, and still somewhat hyper from our walk. It had been a struggle to encourage them to leave the idyll of the cove behind and walk on to the resort. I thought it was quaint that they needed persuading to get back into their clothes after experiencing the freedom of an afternoon's skinny-dipping. They still had the buzz of excitement from the wondrous day they had had, and it was heartening to see them so bright, still alert and talkative, but somewhat relaxed. I had arranged for us to stay at the resort for one night and head back to our encampment in the morning. It was a little treat for the boys and would avoid having to complete our circumnavigation of the lake all in one day. It was now early evening and, although we could still get back before it got dark, it would be too much walking even for these energetic little boys.

As we waited for our order to arrive, I looked around the almost deserted diner and saw how rundown it looked. The place was slightly yellowed and shopworn, though still homely and welcoming. The only other people in there were an elderly couple at one end, by the door, and two young guys sat on fixed stools at the L-shaped counter. The elderly couple were sitting opposite each other across the booth cupping mugs of coffee. The distinguished looking husband had a rather large SLR camera slung about his neck, with a lens so long it looked more like a telescope. Obviously a serious photographer. Possibly even a birdwatcher. To those who were in the know, Crystal Lake was famous for its wildlife. The two young guys sitting at the counter were dressed in jeans and checked shirts and had baseball caps crammed on their heads. They were perhaps a little older than Anton, probably in their early twenties, and seemed to be looking over at us with more than a passing curiosity. They were busily tucking into steaks and drinking bottled beer. The only two vehicles in the parking lot were an Oldsmobile and a Toyota pickup. I guessed the pickup was theirs. It had chainsaws and other tools slung in the back. They were probably backwoodsmen.

I probably wouldn't have noticed the two young guys at the counter if they didn't keep looking over at us. I saw one of them, the bigger of the two, nudge the other with his elbow and nod in our direction. The other looked up and glanced over at us. There seemed to be this series of odd stares being exchanged between them, and they were passing quick comments back and forth as they chewed on their steaks. Vladik was sitting next to me, and they seemed to be looking over at him. Yura, who was sitting next to Anton, had his back to them, so they probably couldn't see him. But it was clear to me that they certainly knew who Vladik was. We had the media to thank for that. Even here, in such a remote place, the internet and satellite TV had ensured that these little boys" faces would be instantly recognized. The two young guys had an air of menace about them. My police officer's instinct told me that their intentions were not strictly honorable, and their gawping made me feel very uncomfortable. I was relieved when they had finished their steaks, downed the last of their beer, and got up to leave. Having paid their check, they grabbed their denim jackets from the rack and slipped outside. I watched them through the window, and sure enough, they climbed into the Toyota pickup and drove away. I was glad that Vladik had been too preoccupied joshing and joking with Yura to have noticed the threatening stares that those two guys had transmitted in his direction. Anton and Yura were of course completely unaware.

When we had all finished, the waitress came back to clear our table and brought over two little bowls with three scoops of ice cream in each. She set them down in front of Yura and Vladik.

"For your beautiful boys," she said, with a kindly tone, "on the house."

Yura and Vladik looked like it was Christmas – flattered and overjoyed at their luck. I thanked the waitress and told her the gesture was appreciated. They loved the ice cream, devouring every last spoonful and almost licking the bowls clean. When we got up to go, the waitress winked at them.

"You look after those boys now, y" hear?" she said to me as we left.

I didn't know whether the complimentary ice cream wasn't because she knew who these boys were. Perhaps she recognized them, but chose to be discreet about it, intending the ice cream as a gesture of her solidarity and support for them. But I couldn't be sure. She could just as well have been just a kindly waitress with a soft spot for pretty little boys who maybe reminded her of her own kids. Who knows?

We rented one of the little cottages. It was one of the many split log cabins that were interspersed throughout the wooded area of the resort. The cottages were all sufficiently far apart to give the impression of space and isolation. Ours was fairly close to the edge of the lake, so that if you looked out, the water was barely a hundred feet away. The door of the cottage opened directly into a living area which had a natural wood picnic table, varnished to a high gloss, and the center of the room had a large area rug, a sofa and two upholstered armchairs all facing a large stone fireplace. Just next to the fireplace was a small bookcase stacked with old paperbacks and a few board games. The far wall had two doors leading to the two bedrooms, and it had a small galley kitchen just to one side. It was very cozy, and as soon as we entered the boys gasped in awe and ran in, yammering excitedly.

I took off my backpack and took Anton's backpack from him. As usual, he seemed to know exactly what needed doing. He went straight to the fireplace and knelt down. I knew he would figure out what to do. I watched as he piled sticks around a wad of paper and leaned several logs against one another over the top. Whilst he was busy building a fire, I unpacked our stuff.

What followed was a very convivial evening. There was no TV at the cottage, so we were resigned to creating our own entertainment. Anton found a pack of cards on the bookshelf and once again succeeded in mesmerizing the boys with his own distinctive brand of homespun entertainment. They sat on the rug in front of the roaring fire, even though the sofa and armchairs were perfectly comfortable. But I guessed they just wanted to be closer to each other. I was in the little galley kitchen microwaving popcorn and I watched Anton from across the room.

Anton spread the cards in a fan and asked Vladik to pick whichever card he wanted. Anton told him to look at it but not show him. Vladik thought about it for a while and eventually picked one. He looked at it and, when he was sure he had memorized it, slipped it back into the pack. Anton shuffled the cards a few times, juggling them back and forth between his hands and eventually started laying them out one by one on the rug. The boys watched, their eyes wide with wonder and anticipation, until eventually Anton picked another card from the pack and this time did not lay it on the rug – he turned it around and held it up to Vladik for him to see. It was his card! Both Vladik's and Yura's mouths opened in an 'O" shape, and they gasped audibly, clearly impressed by Anton's trick. Vladik started clamoring that he wanted to learn how to do it. So Anton gave him the cards and started to explain how it worked, demonstrating step by step as he went. I admired his patience. Vladik listened intently and practiced as they went along. Then, after a couple of failed attempts, Vladik performed the trick on Yura, and he seemed almost shocked when he pulled it off, this time successfully identifying Yura's card. They all looked at each other with widened eyes and their mouths open in an even bigger 'O" than before. The boys were clearly impressed by Anton's clever sleight-of-hand card tricks. So was I. Was there no end to this boy's talents?

As they sat there absorbed with the cards, I brought in a big bowl of popcorn and they all pitched in, taking big handfuls of the stuff, and filling their little mouths absently as they played. Then I brought in a big bottle of what looked like champagne and some fluted glasses on a tray. They watched as I set it down on the little picnic table. I opened the sealed cap with a loud, hollow pop and they gave a little cheer as the fizzy stuff foamed out of the top. I poured four glasses of the effervescent amber liquid and came to sit down on the floor with them, setting the tray down in the middle of us.

"What's this?" asked Anton.

"Sparkling grape juice," I said, and I leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry, it's totally non-alcoholic."

Anton smiled. He held up the glass and looked at it against the light.

"Looks like the real thing," he said.

I handed the glasses round and proposed a toast.

"To a successful expedition," I announced, holding up my glass.

We all drank to that, and as we did so, I noticed Vladik glancing strategically at me. It wasn't a look of resentment this time. More a look of puzzled acceptance. He didn't say anything, but I thought I might have even spotted a hint of gratitude in his pretty emerald eyes. Whatever it was, I detected no hostility in his stare this time. He was enjoying himself, and seemed to be caught up in the general merriment and camaraderie of the moment. Maybe he really did find himself mellowing towards me.

When the grape juice was finished, and the last of the popcorn was all gone, I turned the lights down to an intimate level and we all settled down in front of the fire to wind down a little before bed. It was still early, but it had been a long and tiring day. We would all sleep well tonight, I figured. Yura and I cuddled up on the sofa, and I could see Anton with Vladik lying stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, much like they had been on the rocks at the cove earlier. There was silence, except for the occasional crackle from the fire.

Bathed in the fire's warm glow, I thought Yura was asleep. He was on the sofa next to me with his legs drawn up beside him. We were leaning over to one side and he was propped up against me. My arm was around his precious shoulders with his head nestling in my armpit. Then he spoke, in soft, hushed tones.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did that lady give us free ice cream today?"

The complimentary ice cream had obviously stuck in his mind.

"She said you were beautiful boys," I replied, "I guess she took a liking to you."

"Did she think you were my dad?" he asked.

"Who knows, maybe," I speculated.

Then there were a few moments of silence as we both thought on what we had just said, and I spoke again.

"Sometimes it feels like I'm your dad," I ventured.

Yura let out a little giggle at that, but I couldn't tell if it was prompted by humility or a sense of the ridiculous, whether he was flattered or just amused by that sentiment.

Anton sat up. Vladik appeared to be asleep, but Anton had clearly overheard my exchange with Yura and he looked set to join in on this discussion. I knew immediately that he had been alerted by the mention of a subject which, up till now, we had both knowingly and deliberately avoided. We both knew Yura's father was out there. We both knew Anton had been in contact with him. What we didn't know was how Yura might react to that revelation and we had not discussed how we might broach the subject with him.

"Do you ever wonder about your real dad?" Anton asked.

"Sometimes," said Yura, vaguely, not sounding particularly enthused by the idea.

"What would you do if you found out he was still around?"

Anton was treading a very fine line.

"Then I would have a few questions to ask him," said Yura, without a moment's hesitation.

It was a very mature and considered reply. Typical of Yura in some ways. It was clear that this was something he had already given some thought to.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like why I was put in a children's home, what happened to my mom, and why they didn't want me."

The coherence of Yura's response left me breathless. His honesty almost brought tears to my eyes. Yura was ordinarily very happy-go-lucky, but you could tell that he also carried a lot of sadness with him, and deep down he was a very thoughtful and emotional little boy.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I was just an ordinary boy."

"An ordinary boy? What do you mean?"

"If I had a proper family," he explained.

"Would you have liked that?"

"Yeh, who wouldn't?" he said, "I wonder what it would be like to have a mom and a dad, maybe a brother or a sister. Sometimes I imagine what my dad would be like."

"And?"

Yura thought for a moment, and sat up slightly, lifting his head from my armpit and turned to look up at me with a reassuring grin.

"I think he would be just like you," he said, smiling.

My heart absolutely melted.

The raw honesty of Yura's remark stunned me. I stared down at him for a moment, utterly blown away by the implications of his comment. I probably stared at him for a little too long, momentarily rendered totally speechless. I looked into his almond eyes – those magical, almost supernatural blue eyes of his – and I could barely fathom what was going on in this boy's head. I could not conceive how this little boy was so infinitely capable of expressing himself in such a heartrendingly sincere way. But it was not just the candor of his remark that stunned me, nor the sheer innocence of how he laid his true feelings so completely bare, and was not afraid to express his innermost emotions – no, it was the way he said it, with an adoring smile that told me that this boy knew how to pay a compliment, and perhaps was even aware of how that compliment might elicit an emotion within me. But moreover, it was the implication of how Yura's honest revelation related to me. Sometimes I think Yura was not aware of the extent to which the things he said affected me. The very idea that Yura imagined his father to be just like me was a remark that, innocent though it may have been, affected me so starkly, and touched me so deeply, that I could feel myself welling up inside. I cared for Yura so much, and loved him so completely, and his words had moved me so profoundly, that I had to get up, calmly and coolly, because I didn't want him to see me break down. I extricated myself from our little huddle on the sofa and said I was going out for a cigarette. I went out into the darkness alone. I hurried down towards the water's edge almost in a canter because I could barely hold back my emotions. When I got to the grassy bank at the edge of the lake, I stood there and breathlessly stared out across the water. I was all the more affected by the fact that I knew Yura's real father was out there somewhere. Of course, none of us knew what his real father was like. Even if his father knew about him, there was no guarantee he would want anything to do with Yura. What had moved me so deeply was the simple sentiment that in his imagination Yura had modeled his father on me. No one else had ever been able to move me to tears with a simple unqualified remark like that. Not even John. 'I think he would be just like you." God! What other ten year old boy could ever express such a sentiment? I was so moved that I was almost incapacitated with emotion. I just stood there by the edge of the lake and let the tears roll down my face.

I slept late the next morning. When I awoke, my nostrils detected the unmistakable aroma of fresh coffee. I got up and peered out of the bedroom. Anton was up, walking around the living area of the cottage with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was busily cooking away in the little galley kitchen.

"Morning," he said, cheerfully, as he saw me emerge from the bedroom.

"Morning," I replied, and sidled up to the little counter in my boxers.

I could see he had cooked eggs and made coffee. He was busily gliding around behind the counter with a lot of things going on at the same time, but as usual totally in control. His lean teen body was brown and silky. He had certainly caught the sun from our skinny-dipping the day before, lending him an all-over copper-like tint. His long hair was wet and slicked back from his shower. With that little towel flapping about his waist, he looked something like a youthful Tarzan.

"You did all this?" I said, surprised, "Why didn't you wake me?"

He shrugged it off as inconsequential.

"I thought I'd let you rest. Besides, I wanted to do it. I wanted to do something to thank you."

"Thank me?" I said, puzzled, "For what?"

He pretended not to hear my question and chose not to answer, he just poured some black coffee into a big mug and handed it to me.

"Here, sit down and drink this," he said.

So I sat down by the breakfast bar across from him and took a sip of the coffee. It was good.

I noticed that things were unusually quiet. There was something missing.

"Where are the boys?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"In the shower," he said.

"They okay?"

"They're good," he said, with an air of reassurance.

Then he came and sat down next to me with a mug of coffee and he turned to me, rather purposefully, and held his mug up as though in a toast.

"Thanks Mark," he said.

"What for?" I asked, a little perplexed.

"For taking me right out of myself. For cheering me up. Thanks for inviting me."

We clinked our mugs in a good natured toast and I smiled in bemusement.

"It's been good having you along," I said, confiding in him, "You've been a great help."

"It's been good for me too," he confessed, then with a more serious tone, "It gets quite lonely sometimes in that apartment on my own. It can really get you down. Anyhow, I've had a really good time. Thanks."

I was a little taken aback by Anton's sudden effusion of gratitude and his frank admission. I had no idea he felt lonely. He always seemed so confident and self-assured. He was an intelligent and independent young man, who had many talents. He seemed to have it all worked out. He was at university trying to make something of himself and was funding his education by touting his beautiful body around at the park every night, selling his pretty ass to the johns who no doubt mauled and pawed at him in the heat of their passion. I could just imagine them clutching at him while he ushered them to the heights of ecstasy, probably calling out some terse obscenity as they ejaculated all over his flawless golden skin.

I gave him a reassuring smile.

"No need to feel lonely," I said, "If you feel down, I'm here for you."

He looked at me through his round spectacles, his pretty hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sunshine that penetrated the windows of the cottage. He had a look on his face that told me he was wondering what had prompted me to say that. But he was grateful. He opened his mouth, and I think he was about to thank me again, but quickly thought the better of it. He paused momentarily, then scooted across and kissed me on the cheek, ever so gently, ever so tenderly, but with true affection.

Just then, the room erupted with the sound of little boys bursting in, giggling and shrieking and running across the room. They were still naked and wet from their shower and were flicking their towels at one another, evidently finding the practice of snapping them at each other's butts a source of great hilarity.

Later, when we checked out of the resort, we stuffed what little we had into our backpacks and prepared to set off for the hike around the remaining perimeter of the lake, back to our encampment where we had left our tent and the car. We went back into the diner to pick up some bottles of water for the return journey, and we all said hi to the waitress who had served us the day before. She remembered us of course. We stopped at the long counter to chat and she offered us grilled cheese sandwiches before our journey. We all sat on the fixed stools at the counter and chatted amiably to the waitress, and she bantered with us in a really relaxed, down to earth manner that exuded total self-confidence. At the same time she was able to produce four perfect grilled cheese sandwiches as though she could have done it blindfolded. I liked her. She was kind and friendly and overly courteous to the boys, whom she obviously adored.

Whilst we sat there eating, Vladik said he wanted to go to the restroom. Yura and Anton were still busily munching away, their mouths and chins smeared with strings of melted Swiss cheese, so I offered to accompany him.

"I'll take you," I volunteered, getting up.

Vladik slipped off his stool and backed away from me.

"No," he said, holding up his little palms as if to fend me off, "I can manage."

"Someone should go with you," I protested.

He let out a small huff of derision.

"I don't need you to hold it for me," he said, with a note of sarcasm, and a tiny grimace of ridicule in his expression.

His remark was unkind, and I thought unnecessary, but I didn't want to insist and risk ruining any good rapport we might have built up. So I let him go.

"Okay," I said, backing off, "Don't be too long."

We carried on chatting to the waitress for a good long while. After some time had passed, I realized that Vladik was taking a long time in the restroom. Looking at the clock it was nearly time we were heading off. Anton saw that I was looking at the clock and offered to go and get Vladik. He had not yet finished his sandwich, so I told him to finish eating and went to get Vladik myself.

The restroom was just off the small lobby at the entrance to the diner, which led out onto the parking lot. I pushed the swing door and went in. The restroom was dank and smelly. It was cold and grimy and permeated with the acrid stench of stale urine, the kind of place that no one wanted to spend too much time in. My first impression was not hopeful. There was no sign of Vladik. The urinals were vacant and there seemed to be no one around. I looked down the row of cubicles. None were occupied. My heart was racing. There were a couple of open shower stalls at the end, probably for the few hikers and backpackers that stopped at the diner to rest and freshen up. I could see shadows being cast on the grimy tiled floor, and there were hushed voices. I approached slowly. As I neared I heard a harsh, coercive tone.

"…yeah, you like that don't you… little cocksucker… little cocksucking porno slut…"

As I reached the last shower stall, two fully clothed figures turned in surprise. I saw one of them hastily pull up the front of his jeans and tuck away his cock. They had been huddled together and I had obviously interrupted them. They both jolted with surprise, panic flaring in their eyes and, before I could react, they pushed past me, knocking me down. I felt a hefty blow to my chest which knocked all the air out of my lungs, and I slipped on the wet floor. I fell backwards, landing heavily on my elbow and knocking the back of my head hard on the ceramic tiles. I was disorientated for a moment, and everything was a blur. It took me a couple of seconds to focus. As I looked up across the floor of the room, I just glimpsed the two figures disappearing hastily through the swing door. I recognized them. It was the two young guys that I had seen sitting in the diner yesterday, the ones who had evidently recognized Vladik and had been eyeing him up all the time they were in there.

I sat up, rubbing the back of my head, and fighting to get my breath back. It was then that I spotted Vladik. He was slumped back against the shower wall, his diminutive little frame crouched down on his knees, and his eyes wide with fear. His jeans and underwear had been pulled down and were tangled around his ankles so that his bare legs were exposed. My heart jumped at the sight of him, and for a moment it felt like history was repeating itself. Just for a split second, I saw myself huddled there. It took me back to the day when I was a helpless little twelve year old street kid lying in that restroom – the day that John found me on the floor and rescued me from my plight; the day that my life changed forever.

I got up, my elbow hurting savagely, and went over to Vladik. I stepped into the shower stall, which was still wet, and knelt down to see to him. I spoke in soft, low tones, solicitously and reassuringly.

"What have they done to you little buddy?"

I stroked his cropped hair and the side of his face, comforting him. He was very stiff, very silent, and clearly shaken. As I tended to him, I noticed the shine around his mouth. His upper lip and chin were smeared with wetness. It was precum, from where those guys had been thrusting their cocks over his pretty face and into his little ruby mouth.

"C'mon little buddy," I said, "It's okay, they've gone."

I helped Vladik to get up. I pulled him up by his armpits and held him against me. He was limp, almost as though his legs had turned to rubber, and his knees wouldn't lock. He was shaking, emanating a distinct and pronounced tremble throughout his little frame. His jeans were soaked from the wet shower floor, and he had little wet stains all over him. I propped him up against my shoulder and pulled up his jeans and underwear. Then I stood him up straight, leaning him back against the shower wall to fasten the front of his jeans. I smoothed him down and took some toilet paper to wipe off his face. At the same time I was talking quietly to him, reassuring him, calming him and slowly bringing him back to equilibrium. Vladik said nothing. His expression was oddly serene. He seemed to have withdrawn into a state of blank quiescence. He listened, but didn't react to anything. His silence worried me.

I was wracked with guilt. In all the time I ministered to Vladik, I remember thinking: After all this boy has been through, after all he has suffered, why should he come to harm when he was in my care? This poor little boy had already experienced the most horrendous treatment at the hands of people who had no thought for his welfare, to whom he was probably expendable. He had already experienced the most extreme kind of protracted and systematic mistreatment in his young life, and had been rescued from it in the most dramatic circumstances. After surviving all that, what cruel twist of fate should dictate that he was now destined to suffer this additional misfortune? I felt like I had failed him. How could I have allowed him to be traumatized in such a way when I was supposed to be taking care of him? As I took his little hand and guided him gently out of the restroom, Vladik had a slightly dazed expression that was neither relief nor trauma. But he was clearly shaken. So was I.

The walk back to our camp was solemn and mostly silent. We tramped through the forest having lost the enthusiasm with which we had started the day. In fact, we had lost faith in the entire expedition. The return journey lacked the sense of adventure of our outward journey, and certainly there was none of the idyll and mirth that we had enjoyed at the cove the day before. Even the good natured start to the day had deteriorated into a pessimistic gloom. The event at the diner had cast a spell of disillusionment over all of us.

When we reached our encampment, Vladik just crawled quietly into the tent, snuggled into his sleeping bag and laid down, calm and expressionless. He turned his face to the back of the tent, one shoulder sticking out of the sleeping bag, and he laid there quietly on his own. I felt so sorry for him. Yura went in after him and crouched down, cupping his hands to Vladik's ear and whispered something. I think he was trying to comfort him or cheer him up, perhaps draw him into some kind of activity. Whatever it was, Vladik wasn't interested. 'No. Leave me alone…" was all I heard, quite loudly, at which point Yura gave up and left Vladik in the tent. His little buddy didn't want to play. I felt sorry for Yura. Vladik was wallowing in self pity and just wanted to withdraw. He was still in shock and would need time to recover.

Anton made chili for dinner. He cooked up a rich and spicy mix which he heated up for a long time over the campfire. It smelled heavenly and was delicious. He took a bowl of chili in to Vladik, who was still holed up in the tent, and left it by Vladik's sleeping bag with a large spoon. Vladik didn't eat it. Something told me that this time Vladik genuinely wasn't hungry. The bowl and spoon were sitting there for a long time before Anton took it away untouched.

That night, we went to bed early. It wasn't yet dark when we decided to turn in. I was still feeling responsible for what happened to Vladik, and I almost regretted bringing these boys on the trip. It was our last night at Crystal Lake and in some ways I was looking forward to getting back and putting the memory behind us.

It seemed we had barely got to sleep, or at any rate we had not been asleep long, when I was suddenly awakened by Anton. He jiggled my shoulder and was there by my sleeping bag holding the battery powered lantern up in one hand, eerily illuminating the inside of the tent.

"It's Vladik," he said, with some urgency, "He's gone."

I sat up.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"Gone… gone…" Anton repeated, holding up the lantern to the empty sleeping bag.

"Oh god!" I exclaimed.

"He can't have gone far," said Anton, with a note of optimism.

I scrambled out of my sleeping bag and hurriedly donned my jeans and sweatshirt.

"We'd better go and find him," I said.

Yura had also woken up by this time. I said I would take the car, and Anton volunteered to take the lantern and scout around down by the lake. I told Yura to stay in the tent. He was scared, but lucid. I made sure he understood the urgency of the situation and he promised to stay put.

I snatched my heavy fleece jacket on my way out of the tent, then I hurried up to where the car was parked just off the dirt road and started it up. We had gone to sleep early, and it wasn't yet nightfall. There was still a tiny bit of fading daylight left, which was probably in our favor. In the dead of night Vladik would have no hope of finding his way anywhere. And it was turning cold too. I had visions of us finding him in the morning suffering from exposure. As if he hadn't suffered enough already. What a day. What had got into the little fool?

With the car's headlights on full beam, and the fog-lamps all blazing, the car was lit up like a cathedral, and I slowly took it down the dirt road, keeping the engine turning over at low revs. The engine strained and growled like it was a tractor as it negotiated the bumps. The powerful glare of the lights cut through the darkness like a lighthouse beam, illuminating a narrow strip of the forest on either side. I watched for any sign of movement on the deserted road and the trees which lined the road. I only hoped that Vladik had the good sense to follow the road. In the forest he would easily lose his bearings.

What followed was a good twenty minutes of frantic, panic-infused searching. Eventually, I spotted him. Anton was right, Vladik hadn't got very far. To my relief, I saw his lonely little figure, trudging along the side of the road. He had neither the shoes nor the clothes for a night in the forest. I don't know where on earth he thought he was going or how far he thought he might get. Strangely, he didn't react when he detected the lights of the car shining on him from behind. He just kept right on walking. I stopped the car several yards behind him and jumped out.

"Hey little buddy!" I called out.

Vladik kept on walking.

I ran up to him and caught him up. I stood in front of him, holding a hand up to his chest to bar him from walking any further. He was crying and sniffling. The tears were clearly visible on his face.

"Hey little buddy, what's going on with you?"

He stood there and looked up at me, sobbing.

"I'm running away," he blubbered.

I almost felt like laughing. We were standing in the glare of the car's headlights, pitch darkness all around us, and it struck me how surreal the situation was.

"Where were you going to go?" was all I could think to ask.

Vladik shrugged.

"Anywhere," he said, without an inkling of how hopeless that sounded.

"Please come back," I said, "Don't do this."

He sobbed a little more and wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing his cheek with wetness.

"Like you give a shit," he said, reproachfully.

"Whatever you think of me, I do love you," I said, "I care about you very much."

"Fuck you! I hate you!" he shouted.

"You don't mean that," I said quietly.

"Kiss my ass!"

He stood there sobbing, his little shoulders shuddering, and his head hung down.

"Come back to the tent," I implored him.

"Fuck you!" was his reply.

"But you can't go wandering around in the forest on your own," I appealed, "We're miles from anywhere."

He looked up and scowled.

"I never wanted to come on this stupid trip anyway!" he screamed, "It's all your fault!"

That hurt. But it didn't surprise me that he felt that way, and I fully understood his childish sentiments. I had put him in danger and had not been there when he most needed me.

He was crying even more now, gradually receding into an irrepressible fit of self-pity, and he was shivering. I tried to put an arm around his shoulders and guide him back towards the car.

"C'mon, come back, it's cold out here."

He threw my hands off.

"Don't touch me!"

"C'mon little buddy," I tried to reason, "Let's get back to the tent. We can sort this out in the morning."

He looked up with real hostility burning in his tear-filled eyes.

"Don't you get it? I hate you!"

I stood back and kept my distance. He carried on crying, sobbing uncontrollably, his intransigence ratcheting up the air of confrontation. But he was still shivering, his shoulders trembling with cold as well as rage.

"I'm only trying to do what's best for you," I said, "Do you really think I could leave you out here on your own?"

"Don't care," he sniffed.

"I love you little buddy. Why can't you see that?"

He didn't respond to that. He stood there looking down, his arms still by his sides, the tears still flowing. His teeth were chattering from the cold.

I knew that if the situation required it I could force Vladik to come with me. I was bigger and infinitely stronger. If I wanted to, I could create a scene and unceremoniously bundle him into the car by force. But somehow I didn't think that was going to be necessary. He was just a helpless little boy – a vulnerable little soul who was at this moment in distress, and I was filled with nothing but love and empathy for him.

In a gesture of goodwill, and to demonstrate my love for him, I took off my thick fleece jacket and draped it around his shoulders. He let me. It was already warm from my body heat. All he had on was his thin sweatshirt. He must have been feeling the cold because he immediately pulled the jacket around him, tucking his arms across his chest under the warm fabric.

I walked back towards the car. The Constellation was stopped in the middle of the road with an air of expectation, with the door open and the engine running, as though it was waiting for us to decide what to do. The courtesy lights were all on, lighting up the interior of the car with a welcoming yellow glow, and giving it the appearance of a lifeboat – our safety net in the sea of impending darkness that was closing in around us, our sanctuary from the forbidding danger of the surrounding forest.

I turned to look at Vladik again and watched him through the gap between the open door and the windscreen pillar. I could see him standing with his back to me thinking things over. He stood there shivering, my oversized fleece jacket wrapped around him, its empty sleeves hanging there redundantly. But he had stopped crying. For a moment I thought he was determined to continue with his ill-conceived flight. But he didn't. He hesitated for a few moments, huddling deeper into the big jacket, and he slowly turned towards me, illuminated by the blinding glare of the car's headlights. He appeared very vulnerable at that moment, a very solitary, forlorn figure, just a tiny little boy standing out there in the darkness on his own. Then he looked up slowly with a pained expression.

"Mark?"

I waited, looking directly at him.

"Yes?"

"I'm cold."

His demeanor collapsed and his defiance instantly dissolved. It was almost as though he had been suddenly consumed by some unpleasant sensation, and his face slowly contorted into a tortured grimace. Then he managed to elicit a single, plaintive, quiet little plea, that was almost drowned by a big surge of emotion.

"Hold me?"

It was almost a squeak – a momentary cry for help which deteriorated into full blown tears. He broke down in front of me, his little body suddenly wracked with grief, overcome by a renewed fit of crying, even more powerful than before. And as he stood there in the darkness, with his face in his hands, shuddering with the intensity of his weeping, I leapt across and enveloped him in my arms in the most welcome and comforting embrace I could muster. He melted in my arms, and I knew that the deep, almost guttural sobs he was crying into my chest were long overdue – the inevitable manifestation of all the hurt he had been holding inside him. This poor little boy just couldn't keep it in any more.

That night, Vladik cried himself to sleep in my arms. He cried all the way back to the tent. He cried so much that his little body shuddered violently with the depth of his sorrow. He was trying to talk as he cried, but the words just came out as distorted vocalizations that were strangled by his tears. He went on blubbing like that, even though he made no sense, but I just listened and comforted him, holding his cute blond head against my chest. Vladik cried for a long time. God, I had never seen a little boy cry so many tears, for so long and so profoundly. I held him until he had no more tears left. I held him so tightly and for so long that my arms ached. His sadness gradually subsided into gentle shudders and then petered out altogether. For a long time he just stayed in my arms, staring out silently, not thinking anything in particular, just nestled in my embrace. Then I looked down after a long, long time and finally he was asleep. I laid him down next to me on the sleeping bag, threw the comforter over him, and kissed his tear-stained cheek.

Chapter 15
Resolution

When I was done peeing, I came back into the tent, and Anton was awake. He looked quite content, sitting up slightly, propped up on his elbows, his pretty hazel eyes a little puffy, and his long mousy hair mussed up from his sleep. He looked undressed without his glasses. He was looking around surveying the two boys who were still sleeping, evidently reassured that Vladik was still with us. We exchanged glances and smiled. It was funny how we always thought in unison. It was like I could tell what was going through his mind and he always knew what I was thinking too.

I sat down cross-legged next to Vladik and softly stroked his blond hair as he slept.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," said Anton.

"What?" I asked, looking up, not immediately understanding what he meant.

He jerked his head at Vladik.

"Don't blame yourself," he said.

"I let him down," I said, regretfully, looking down at the comatose boy next to me.

"No. You didn't," said Anton, with a note of impatience.

"But, if it wasn't for me…"

"If it wasn't for you, those boys wouldn't have had the time of their lives," he interjected.

"I almost regret bringing them now," I said, a little downbeat, "We nearly lost Vladik."

He fumbled about on the groundsheet next to him and found his spectacles, putting them on hastily. Then he refocused on me, as though, with his vision now clear, he was able to put his thoughts in order.

"You're only saying that because you haven't seen the change in them like I have. You haven't seen what those boys were like when they were locked up all day, drugged, beaten, starved… Do you know what they had to do? Do you know what it was like to watch those boys perform when they were already physically exhausted? To do the most extreme and obscene things to themselves and each other? To perform on demand like circus animals? I watched them do all sorts of degrading things, cruel and painful things, all in the name of porn. Do you think the men who did that cared about them? Do you think anyone has ever cared about those boys as much as you?"

I looked across at Anton incredulous at the way he had put it, somewhat taken aback by his impromptu lecture, and more than a little overwhelmed by his frankness. I looked into both his spectacle-framed eyes and was blown away by the candidness of his description, especially the way he had so graphically described the changes he had seen in the boys. And he should know. He was once one of them.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," he said, "You've done more for those boys than anybody."

He got up, almost dismissively, as though that was his final word and he would hear no more about it. That was one of the things I liked about Anton. He always made me feel a lot better.

He paused by the tent exit and looked back, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Coffee?"

I nodded slowly, smiling assuredly.

Whilst Anton made the coffee, I got up and went down to the lake for an early morning dip. Our location by the lakeside didn't have the sandy beach, nor the privacy of the cove, but it was still early, so I figured it was safe for a quick skinny dip whilst there was no one around. I stripped off, slowly wading into the water, steeling myself for the shock of the cold water. It was icy cold and made my skin tingle all over.

I swum out to where the water was a little deeper and splashed about on my own for a bit. I submerged myself a few times, bracing myself as I came back up, spluttering the water out of my face. As I did so, I could see Anton coming down towards the lake with Yura and Vladik. They were all naked, no doubt anticipating another bout of skinny dipping. We were now all very comfortable in our nakedness with each other. But it had turned a lot colder. It was not going to be as warm as the afternoon we had spent at the cove and I didn't expect we could sustain it for very long.

Anton had brought down a steaming mug of coffee for me and an armful of large towels. I eased myself over the bank and rose out of the water, dripping wet. I wrapped one of the towels around me and cupped the hot mug of coffee to me gratefully. I went and sat up on the grassy ridge, so I could keep an eye on the boys as they swam. I draped the towel around my shoulders and drank the coffee almost greedily, revived by its warmth. As I drank, the boys went running into the water, shrieking from the cold, but seemingly undeterred. They splashed about manically anyway, still determined to horse around and have fun. Anton was standing by the water's edge, watching them, and he turned and looked up at me purposefully from below.

"See," he called up to me, as though to reiterate his earlier point, "They're having the time of their lives."

I could only smile back down at him, reassured.

Anton then went running into the water, and quickly threw himself in, diving under the surface in one swift movement, and swam out to where the boys were playing. I watched them playing together for a good long time, engaging in their usual antics of splashing each other, jumping about and trying to pull one another under. The more time I spent around Anton, the more I liked him. The boys did too. And I saw Anton do a lot of really affectionate things. As I watched him with the boys, there were some quaint little gestures that seemed to strike a chord with me for some reason. It was clear that we had all become quite attached to him.

I was still sitting up on the ridge finishing my coffee when Anton and Vladik came running out of the water, breathless with exertion and shivering from the cold. But they were still laughing uncontrollably from their energetic games, giggling and chortling and evidently having fun. They left Yura out in the water alone, amusing himself by diving down towards the bottom of the lake. It wasn't very deep, probably about eight feet. He would tip himself up on the spot, so that you could see his little feet kick briefly just above the surface before submerging fully under the water. He was quite an accomplished diver and for the moment seemed quite content just splashing about on his own.

Meanwhile, I watched how Anton interacted with Vladik and I sensed a budding liaison between these two. Anton had already indicated that he had a particular affection for Vladik and he was very caring and thoughtful and gentle towards him. Anton wrapped a big towel around Vladik and gave him a quick, solitary little kiss on the lips. Then they sat down on the sandy soil to dry off. They were talking quietly, and Anton was yammering away in that quiet, reassuring, affectionate tone of his. They sat quite close together, facing each other, and Anton had an arm outstretched, resting on Vladik's shoulder, all the time talking confidentially to him. I could see Vladik nodding in agreement, passively acquiescent to whatever it was Anton was asking of him. Then there was one thing in particular which Anton did, which I thought was especially endearing and considerate. I watched Anton reach for the packet of cigarettes that he had placed on the ground beside him. He took two cigarettes from the pack, lighting them both, one after the other, and gave one to Vladik. He did it in a very distinct, well thought out way that reflected his natural altruism and affection. It was apparent in the way he strategically turned the filter tip towards Vladik as he handed him the lit cigarette. It was such a thoughtful gesture, with powerful overtones of John. It was eerie, but also strangely delightful. For me, it was little gestures like that which truly revealed what was in people's hearts. And as I watched him, watched the way he moved, observed his demeanor, his expressions, his overall presence, I finally worked out why it was that I felt so strongly drawn to this boy. It was because he reminded me so much of John.

They waited for Yura to come back out of the water then, having finished their cigarettes, Anton and Yura wrapped their towels round them and came back up towards me on the grassy ridge. They left Vladik, who was still down by the water's edge and seemed to be kicking the soil around on his own.

"Vladik wants to talk to you," said Anton, with a cryptic smile, as he and Yura walked past me on their way back to the tent.

Yura had a mischievous grin on his face, as though he was already privy to whatever it was Vladik wanted to discuss. I looked puzzled for a moment, but didn't question it.

I secured the big towel tightly around my shoulders and went down to where Vladik was standing by the edge of the lake. As I came up behind him he was staring into the rippling water, looking quite thoughtful and introspective.

"Hey little buddy, Anton says you wanted to talk to me."

He looked around and nodded, pursing his pretty lips anxiously as he turned to face me. His golden hair was sticking up in wet, stubby little spikes. He appeared a little uncertain, and settled on gazing at the ground. His diminutive little body was glistening with droplets of water, the white towel secured tantalizingly around his waist, contrasting against the slightly tanned tone of his young skin. He shuffled his bare little feet in the sandy soil nervously.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I was mean to you," he said, still looking down.

I was struck by the sincerity of his words. I knew he was being genuine, even though I half suspected that Anton had put him up to this. But I played it cool.

"No need to apologize," I said, "Its okay, really."

"Still, I wasn't very nice."

He looked up meaningfully.

"I didn't mean those things I said."

"I forgive you," I said, making it sound inconsequential, "But I think I owe you an apology too."

He looked quizzical, and lowered his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday," I said, "I hope you forgive me."

"It's not your fault," he said, "It's mine."

Now it was my turn to look quizzical.

"You offered to go with me remember?" he went on.

Of course he was right. It had been against my better judgment that I allowed him to go into that restroom on his own.

"Still," I said, "I do feel bad about what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"That's okay," he said, with genuine absence of malice.

There was a pause and he looked at me appealingly, with the most adorable expression.

"So are we friends?" he asked, pursing his lips hopefully.

I smiled benevolently, at that moment feeling nothing but an intense love for this boy.

"We were never enemies," I said.

He shuffled his feet some more, as though trying to tramp down some imaginary outcrop in the soil. He was thinking it over, assimilating our conciliation, and hesitantly drawing it out. He was silent for a while, patently wavering over what to say next. Then, looking down nervously, he spoke again.

"Mark?"

"Yes?"

He held his arms out in supplication, looking up with a resigned expression, inviting me to hug him. I stepped across and embraced him tightly. My towel fell open so that our bare bodies were touching. I rubbed his bare back and kissed his head in a gesture of love and affection that was absolutely exquisite. Holding Vladik so close like that felt good. His damp, naked little body was lithe and slim in my arms, so warm against my skin, so youthful, vital and alive. As I held him, I buried my face into his wet hair and breathed in the heady aroma of this beautiful little specimen, taking in his scent, his little boy smell mixed with the freshness of the lake water, bound up with the lingering smell of tobacco.

We stayed like that for a few long seconds, appreciating this special little boymoment together. I ruffled Vladik's golden hair affectionately. And while we were entwined like that, he spoke, with his sweet head muffled against me.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you've got so much love inside you?" he asked.

What an extraordinary question!

Sometimes I was struck dumb by the questions these boys came out with. I was momentarily stunned by its sheer depth and in particular by the way he had chosen to phrase it, as though love were some commodity that we could each manufacture.

"I had a good teacher," I said, "I had someone who was prepared to show me love when I was young, someone who took me in when no one else wanted me, and showed me what it was like to really love another person. Just think how fantastic this world would be if we all had teachers like that."

Vladik stepped away, breaking our embrace and looked up at me, somewhat overwhelmed. His expression told me that my answer was far deeper, far more profound and rather more protracted than he'd bargained for.

I decided to sit down on the sandy soil, hoping that Vladik would follow suit. He sat down next to me, and we were silent for a few moments, very thoughtful, mellow and relaxed. Both of us stared out across the silvery waters of the lake, watching how the early morning sun was reflecting off the rippling surface.

"Sometimes I can't help being mean," Vladik explained, "I think about my life and I ask myself why these things happened to me."

Then he turned and looked at me.

"Mark, is there something wrong with me?"

I turned to him rather abruptly.

"No little buddy, you mustn't think that!"

"So why do I always feel like I want to hurt people?"

"Because you're angry," I said, "And you have a right to be angry."

"It just makes me feel like…"

"Shouting, hitting people, breaking things?" I said, completing the sentence for him.

He looked back at me with a wondrous look on his face, and started nodding slowly, almost as though he was surprised that I understood what he was trying to convey. He was suddenly curious.

"How do you know?"

"Because I went through it too," I said, shifting closer to him.

He allowed me to put an arm around his shoulders and he snuggled into me, looking around at me with a questioning look.

"I was angry too," I went on, "I was a street kid once, selling my ass to scrape a few bucks, and struggling for food and warmth and shelter."

His little jaw was wide open as he stared up at me.

"You were a rent boy?"

"Yeah, a prostitute," I said, plainly, "I jerked off clients and sucked their cocks and did what I had to do to survive."

"When?"

"When I was only a little older than you are now."

He stared at me for a very long time, fixing me with a piercingly intense look of his green eyes, and I could detect his sweet head processing this information. Something told me that I had just risen by several hundred points in his estimation.

As Vladik was assimilating this information, I waited for another question, but it never came. Instead, he stared for a good long while and then just decided to snuggle into my embrace and relaxed, allowing himself to digest this startling revelation, and enjoy this precious little boymoment with me. His silence indicated that there was no need to say any more. We sat there for a good few moments longer, wordlessly thinking our own thoughts, and I knew that when we were comfortable enough to sit in a warm embrace without feeling the need to say anything, it denoted his acquiescence. At this point I knew that Vladik had finally accepted me.

Those few momentous days we had spent at Crystal Lake proved to be something of a turning point for all of us. I had got to know Anton a lot better and he was a lot more attached to the boys. I was reconciled with Vladik. Even Yura and Vladik seemed closer. The highs and lows we had shared had brought us all closer together. There was a mutual affinity there, a kind of brotherhood that was forged by the joint experience. So I guess the trip had served some purpose, and it had definitely cemented the bonds between us. We came back from Crystal Lake stronger and all the more united.

My rapprochement with Vladik continued to flourish when we returned, even after we had settled back into the routine at the house. It was apparent in the way he was clingy and attentive around the house. It was as though, now that his resentment of me had been banished, he wanted to be close to me all the time. He was particularly demonstrative and affectionate, thus vindicating my expectations that, despite the challenges this boy had faced, he was actually very sensitive and loving. Once he had let go of his truculence and hostility, his natural charm was able to shine through. He was actually a kind, considerate and very likeable little boy.

Vladik was also extremely horny. Not only was he in the habit of openly clutching at his crotch, he would distinctly manipulate his little boner through the front of his pants. He would very often look at me in the most intense way, sometimes blushing with a fierce longing as though he expected me to do something about it. I wanted to. Vladik was an extremely beautiful little boy. I loved him from the very first time I saw him. He had the cutest, hottest little body and he knew what I wanted to do to him. I was pretty sure he wanted it too, but I had to wait for the opportunity to present itself. I still had not forgotten John's philosophy: always wait for the boy to make the first move. I was sure that with Vladik it was only a matter of time.

Anton and I also felt a lot closer after Crystal Lake. He spent a lot of time at the house with us. I knew he didn't enjoy going back to his apartment alone, and I told him he was welcome at the house any time. Not only did he help me around the house with meals and day to day chores, but he also spent most of his leisure time hanging out with us.

Of course, the inevitable requirement of contacting Yura's father also had to be dealt with. We were both aware that it had been put off long enough. So, no sooner had we got back from Crystal Lake, Anton set the wheels in motion. Truthfully, Anton could have done it at any time, but he judged when it was the right time to bring it up. I could tell he had been waiting for the opportunity, and we agreed that I should be there when he did. Thereafter, the suddenness with which things progressed with Yura's father was frighteningly quick.

It was perhaps a couple of days later that Anton raised the issue. I will never forget the look on Yura's face when Anton told him about his father. It wasn't the reaction I expected. It was typical of Yura, of course. It was a very mature and measured response, and I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

We were relaxing over a game of pool in the games room, down in the basement of the house. I was standing at the pool table with Vladik, showing him how to hold the cue and how to judge the angles to calculate the rebound off the cushions, much like I had done with Yura when we were first bonding together. Meanwhile, Anton and Yura were standing back, pool cues resting upended on the floor, watching us, and they were talking.

"You do have a father, and he wants to meet you."

That was all Anton said. And as we continued circling around the table, half absorbed in the technicalities of the game at hand, he explained to Yura how he had managed to track this man down on the internet, and how they had been in communication with each other, and how his father was excited on learning that he had a son which he knew nothing about. Vladik and I hung back, just watching.

Yura raised his eyebrows and looked across at me, while Vladik was bent over the table taking his shot. There was a moment of hesitation where I was uncertain about how Yura was going to react. It might have gone either way. But I should never have doubted Yura. He took it in a good way, seemingly pleased about this discovery. He smiled, appearing delighted at the thought of it.

"Who is he? Where is he?" Yura asked, still holding the pool cue in his hand.

"His name is Roman. He lives with his wife and his son in Saint Petersburg."

"He has a son?"

"Yes. Nikita. He's six. His mother is called Natalya."

"So I have a brother?"

"Yes. Your half brother."

Yura looked across at me, a little smile on his lips.

"Oh Mark, it's just like I imagined. I have a brother!"

Anton shot me a strategic glance which said 'So far so good," and I grinned affirmatively.

"You want to see the pictures?" Anton asked him.

"Sure," said Yura, nodding enthusiastically.

We all went to the little study upstairs and Vladik and I hung back while Anton took Yura over to the desk and booted up the computer. I sat in one of the armchairs by the bookcases and Vladik tantalizingly chose to sit on my lap. It was very deliberate. There were three other armchairs he could have opted for, but instead deposited his perfect little boy butt right into my lap, purposefully squirming into my crotch as though he was trying to get a feel of my cock. Vladik's diminutive little frame bearing down on my stiffening cock was exquisite. I put my arms around him and he leaned back, flat against my chest, resting the back of his head on my shoulder. My hands were resting lightly just over his solar plexus and I could feel him breathing, his little body pulsing lightly with silent breaths. I could smell his familiar scent, the heady aroma of little boy odor, like warm milk, and I enjoyed a tentative little boymoment with him as we watched Anton and Yura from across the room. Being so close to Vladik was a stolen pleasure, and knowing he was getting the feel of me, being clingy and tactile like this, was a frustrating if pleasurable sensation. I knew I was going to have this boy sooner or later. And I knew he wanted me too. But not yet. When the time was right.

Yura sat in the swivel chair at the big oak desk, anxiously staring at the computer screen. Anton stood behind him and leaned over, and within a few clicks of the mouse, he was able to access the photos that Roman had emailed to him. There were pictures of the whole family, Roman with Natalya and Nikita. Roman was very obviously Yura's father. He had those eyes – the same supernaturally blue eyes that were distinctive and unique. He was perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, with the same black wavy hair as Yura and the same perfect, classic facial features. He was extremely handsome.

Then Anton showed him the pictures of Roman's wife. Natalya was Kazakh, perhaps a little younger, with prominent, aquiline, Mongol features. She was tall, slim, proud, and very beautiful. Not surprising, therefore, that their little boy Nikita was also exceptionally beautiful. He was lucky. His face was an attractive fusion of the best of his mother's angular Mongol features, the privileged end product of their merged genes, complete with the epicanthic folds of her eyes, though somewhat softened by his father's more European looks. Of course he also had that extraordinarily unique eye color, the same eyes as Yura, with that piercing hue of cobalt blue, and he had a cheeky, mischievous expression on his elfin-like face. God, he was such a pretty little thing.

Yura spent a good long time staring closely into the computer screen as Anton scrolled through the photos. And he was making little comments and cooing at what he observed. This was all new and wonderful to him, and he was delighted by it all. There were photos of the family in their garden, playing and hanging out together. Nikita with a big mop of windswept hair and a toothsome smile, kicking a ball on the lawn or riding his bike on the patio, or jumping into the pool. There were a few of Roman and Natalya together, obviously very much a couple, and a few of Roman with Nikita, easily lapsing into a comfortable closeness, nuzzling openly, and demonstrably affectionate. I couldn't begin to imagine what a strange sensation that might have been for Yura, trying to envisage just what these people meant to him, what they represented. For his part, Yura seemed to cope with this revelation quite well. So well, in fact, that I wondered whether he fully understood the implications of it all and the extent to which it could potentially change his life.

After looking at all the pictures for a good long time, studying each one with curious fascination, Yura looked around with a delighted expression.

"Look Mark, that's my dad!"

I nodded enthusiastically, happy for him, overjoyed at the look of wonder on his face, but inside my heart sorrowed. It was a good thing that Vladik was sitting on my lap, his blond head obscuring my face, so that none of them could see the moisture that was gathering in my eyes.

Yura's eleventh birthday was fast approaching. Anton told me that they never observed birthdays at the children's home. It was hardly likely that the pornographers had ever celebrated them either. So in fact, in his short life, Yura had never really had a proper birthday. Somehow, that saddened me so much that I decided we were going to make this a birthday for Yura to remember. Elena was instrumental in coming up with ideas, having had the benefit of her own experience as a mother. She had a fifteen year old daughter. Even Nikolayev wanted to contribute. On my next visit to HQ he handed me a little calling card with just a name and a number on it and asked me to give this guy a call. When I asked what the guy did, Nikolayev simply said 'Let's just say he'll make your party go with a bang." I was intrigued.

Now that the pressure had eased somewhat, Nikolayev seemed a lot more relaxed. The media were now focused on Moscow, and Zhukov was keeping them at arms length. Our side of Operation Ganymede was almost complete. The pornographers had been arrested and all that remained was for the Moscow Police to finish preparing their case and getting set for trial. It was still a very hot story for the media, and would probably continue to be for some time. It would peak again when the trial was underway, and would probably not recede from the media spotlight until those men were convicted and behind bars.

I was surprised that when I had reported back to Nikolayev about what happened at the lake, he did not lecture me or fly into a rage. He simply listened. Then I was able to witness first hand just what an important and influential man he was. He made a few select phone calls and within a matter of minutes had arranged for me and Vladik to be interviewed regarding what happened. I was fairly confident that the two guys who had molested Vladik at the lake would be apprehended. I was able to give good descriptions of them and their car. Vladik's recollection was patchy, but still pretty conclusive. Nikolayev passed it all to the local sheriff's department. Regarding Vladik's attempt at running away, I could have kept quiet about it. But I didn't need to. Anton was able to atone for my actions and eloquently described how I had dealt with it, adding that there wasn't anything more I could have done.

I liked the way that Anton was welcomed by Nikolayev. When it became clear that Anton had inside information that could be useful, he was treated as something of a valued witness. He was allowed to sit in on the next big meeting at HQ and was afforded a great deal of respect and admiration. Elena was certainly very courteous and warm towards him, and Nikolayev was respectful, if not overly avuncular. Nikolayev even took me aside afterwards, as we were coming out of his office, evidently impressed by this young man.

"He's a smart kid," he said, "We could use a guy like that."

The people from Children's Services eventually got their way, and a big case conference took place where some decisions were going to be made about Yura and Vladik's future. It had been avoided long enough and they were under pressure to decide what to do with the boys. They had not been happy with the arrangements for Yura and Vladik from the beginning. They continued to assert that the boys should really have been placed with trained foster carers until their cases were resolved. If it wasn't for the security risk, my role in Operation Ganymede would never have been necessary. But now that Operation Ganymede had moved into its resolution stage, the danger was deemed to have passed, or was at any rate seen as minimal.

I will never forget that meeting. It was informal, but difficult. Everyone was relaxed and friendly, but the discussion was awkward. It was interesting too because it was the first time I had seen Nikolayev relinquish responsibility. He allowed Elena to do most of the talking. Elena, as the Family Liaison Officer, more or less took over from this point on, and she almost became the advocate for Yura and Vladik, because they were still the responsibility of the Moscow Police. I was inwardly relieved about that, not so much because I liked and respected Elena, but because I had no faith in the people from Children's Services. The people from Children's Services didn't come across as being particularly benevolent, even though I did not doubt their good intentions. But I already had the measure of these people. I had met enough of them when I was working with Boyscape, trying to broker deals for the poor boys I was trying to help, to get them rehabilitated and properly assimilated back into society. In all that time I never met one social worker who was even remotely likeable. They were doing a job that required at least a modicum of compassion and humanity, yet they were all humorless and remote – with no inkling of altruism or empathy. They were all distant and cold, as though they had no appreciation of the depth of those boys" suffering. No wonder the boys were unable to establish meaningful relationships with their link workers. The link workers were just drones, there to facilitate the immovable and unquestionable requirements of a faceless entity that had long ago ceased to be cognizant with its own raison d'etre.

There were ten of us in the room this time, apart from Yura, Vladik, myself, Anton and Elena, there was Nikolayev, the guy from the Russian Embassy, a female social worker from Children's Services, plus Yura's psychotherapist. I wasn't particularly enamored with the social worker. I thought her concerns were misguided and ill-conceived. She was a rather standoffish woman with horn-rimmed spectacles who had all the stiff demeanor of a schoolmarm and spoke in a very condescending way to all of us. As the schoolmarm was talking, Yura smiled at me mischievously from across the table, where he was sitting next to Elena. I too thought it was vaguely amusing. She spoke for a very long time about how her department was concerned that these boys were being 'deprived" of an education because they had missed so much school. She said they were being 'neglected', because the Moscow Police had 'prevented" them from enjoying the benefits of being placed with a proper foster family. What did she know? Those boys already knew more about life than most of the people in her department, who had no doubt learned everything they knew out of a textbook. She kept talking of 'cases" and 'case notes" and 'case files'. Everything with her was a 'case', as though we weren't dealing with real people at all, as though these little boys" lives were just another burden in her 'caseload', mere fodder for her bureaucratic, lumbering regime, another chore which was part of her blind, indiscriminate day to day routine. She may have believed that everything she was doing was in the boys" interests, but in practice all she was doing was satisfying the legislation. And the legislation didn't necessarily take into account what the boys wanted. But then, the legislation had no prescription for two little boys who were avidly enjoying a sexual relationship with each other, one of whom was not averse to having his little boyhole fucked on a regular basis by the six foot two police officer who had been assigned to protect him. The legislation wasn't designed to deal with that particular peculiarity. Doubtful the legislation would even concede that it was possible, yet alone consensual.

In the case of Vladik, or Alex as the schoolmarm referred to him, the understanding was that a good foster family would be found for him until such time as he had to return to Moscow. In the case of Yura, or Ivan as he was known to the schoolmarm, Elena explained that we had managed to locate Ivan's real father and that Anton had been in communication with him. She said Ivan had agreed to meet with him.

"Is this true?" asked the schoolmarm, peering at Yura over the top of her spectacles.

Yura glanced at me before answering. I nodded encouragingly.

"Yes," he said, "I want to meet him."

Elena went on to explain that this news had been communicated to Ivan's father and that he was anxious to meet Ivan.

"Provided he is genuine, then of course we would rather have Ivan with his real father," said the schoolmarm, "But he will have to agree to a paternity test, and of course all the usual background checks."

"I'm sure that won't be an issue," said Elena.

"In cases like this," said the schoolmarm, "It is best that we have an initial tentative meeting first of all, a short introduction at a neutral venue, and then if that goes well, we can move on to a home visit and see how things go from there. How does that sound?"

Everyone looked around the table. Yura seemed happy with that and there were general murmurs of agreement. So, in no time at all, the meeting with Yura's father was set up.

We were all in the garden, lying by the pool, and enjoying the last few rays of sunshine before the heat of the afternoon relented into early evening. We were all wet and tired from swimming. The boys never got bored of swimming, and when they had had their fill, we all settled into a quiet, trance-like idyll around the pool to dry off. I looked down next to me and Yura was lying stretched out on the grass naked, with his hands behind his head, eyelids gently closed against the blinding sunshine. He looked beautiful, stretched out like that in all his naked glory. His chest was rising and falling gently, his floppy little dick was nestling loosely in his hairless crotch, like a juicy little grub, and his little feet were cutely pointing inwards in a way that was only possible in boys of his age. Nearby, on the opposite corner of the pool, Anton and Vladik were both sitting up in the grass, also naked, and Anton was teaching him how to play the guitar. Anton had erotically wrapped himself around Vladik, so that he could lean over him from behind and guide his hands over the instrument. Vladik was trying very hard to follow Anton's instructions, with his head studiously bent over the guitar as it rested on his lap, and his nimble little fingers were curled gently around the shaft. Anton was quietly speaking into his ear, and every now and then a melodic little strum would emanate. Anton was patient, calm and full of encouragement. Watching them together, in that intimate little huddle, was strangely pleasing.

I laid back down next to Yura, and stretched out in the cool grass, closing my eyes. After a few minutes, I realized I could no longer hear the guitar. Vladik's strumming had petered out and then stopped altogether. The silence was curious. So I lifted my head and focused across the corner of the pool. The guitar was lying abandoned on the ground, redundantly tossed aside, and Vladik was sprawled out in the grass, face down, with his head turned slightly to one side. His naked little body was jolting rhythmically. Anton was spread-eagled above him, astride his narrow little pelvis, fucking down into his boyhole. His lithe teen body covered Vladik's tiny frame, propped up on his arms, and Vladik's full, round little ass was being roughly pinioned onto the lush ground. I hadn't noticed at what point Anton had wrenched the guitar from Vladik's hands and silently pushed him down onto the ground, nor when exactly he had mounted him and penetrated him without making a sound. But Vladik looked like he was loving it. You could tell that this was a position they were both comfortable in. They had found an optimum solution that seemed to suit them both and were busily fucking away in the most feverish of couplings. Anton's perfect teen body was flexing away above Vladik, the muscles of his smooth ass hard with tension, bucking downwards, driving his big teen cock into Vladik's soft round globes with a youthful vigor that bordered on aggression – or perhaps it was unrestrained lust. Vladik's little preteen frame seemed to welcome it, as though he was drawing energy from the rampant cock which was digging wantonly into his pretty ass with the speed and energy of a jackhammer. As I watched, Anton was bucking into Vladik's little ass with such force that it looked almost painful. But Vladik had a look of deep concentration on his face, as though he was trying really hard to give Anton as much pleasure as possible, clutching little handfuls of grass, bracing himself against the force of Anton's thrusting and bearing his weight. The curves of Anton's body were perfectly aligned to the curves of Vladik's tiny body beneath him. Anton was good. He could fuck with a kind of youthful vitality that exuded lustful urgency – the urgency to pump his virile teen spunk into that perfect hairless little body that was ensnared between his legs, driven by the desire to evacuate his heavy teen balls and inject his essence into the tight, magical little hole that was massaging his cock to an explosive climax. Their two bodies combined with such beautiful synergy, flowing and bucking together, was a sight to behold.

What I liked about the way Anton and Vladik interacted was that they both instinctively knew when to change positions. They fucked in such a way that you knew they were very much in tune with each other. It was clear that they were familiar with each other's bodies and their respective techniques and – most of all – what they each liked. When Anton had fucked him one way, he would stop and touch Vladik gently on his hip or his arm or his shoulder, and that was the signal that he was ready to move onto the next thing. Anton would withdraw, his erect cock wavering enticingly in mid air as Vladik turned over, then Vladik would get into position and await Anton's reinsertion. It was as if they had rehearsed the whole thing. They did it firstly with Vladik lying flat, face down on the ground with Anton astride his butt. Then Anton turned him over and did Vladik missionary style, with Vladik's knees up by his chest and Anton bucking into him from above. Then they were up on all fours, doggy-style, then Anton was sitting down on the ground with Vladik astride his lap facing him, then in the other direction with Vladik facing away from him. They did a fair amount of cocksucking too. Between changes in position Vladik would strategically give a few token sucks on Anton's cock. He knew what he was doing. It smacked of a kid who had been well indoctrinated into the techniques of keeping his lover's dick hard. What I liked also was that this was not just a one-way exercise. Anton too would offer occasional stimulation to Vladik's little dick, giving it a quick jack every now and then, a yank here and a tug there, ensuring it remained rock hard and at full mast the whole time they were fucking. At the same time, when the position allowed, they kissed, so that their bodies were joined in two different places, connected by their lips, with Anton gorging on Vladik's little ruby mouth at the same time as he was stabbing brutally into his little cunt, invading that little body in both those erogenous little holes at once. It was like a beautiful dance, the most aesthetic and beautiful physical coupling between boys I had ever seen, made all the more erotic and spectacular by their sheer beauty and the irrepressible lust and dynamism in their routine. And I noticed, as I was watching, that even as he was fucking, furiously stabbing his pelvis into Vladik's little butt with studious concentration, Anton, although completely naked, had kept his glasses on. For some reason I found that incredibly arousing.

Of course, it was odd sitting there watching them in such close proximity, and they were probably aware that they were being watched. But then, it was easy to forget that they were natural exhibitionists. Quite likely they didn't care. Anton had been a porn boy too. He had performed for the cameras, just like Vladik, and I was being treated to an exclusive live performance by two of the best boys in the business. I was watching two boys that I would have liked to fuck myself. Watching them fuck together was the ultimate voyeurism. I was relishing the spectacle of those two gorgeous fuckboys so intimately connected, engaged in the most extreme kind of boysex I had ever seen.

They finished up doing it doggy-style. When Anton's thrusting became urgent and quick I knew he was getting close. His bucking became more pronounced, violent and forceful, thoroughly pummeling into Vladik's little ass and I feared he was going to rip that tender little hole that had already been damaged so severely. But Vladik bore it without complaint. Anton concentrated for a bit, focusing on the feeling of his big eighteen year old dick going in and out of Vladik's veteran little boycunt. Then he took on an almost pained expression, with a little grimace of discomfort that told me he was feeling the urgency of his exertions, like it was hurting him. It was like he had a pain that needed soothing. On the paradise stroke, I thought he was going to bury his big teen cock even deeper into that pretty little ass, slamming it into that warm, wet, tight little hole with all his might, but he didn't. In true porn boy fashion, he slammed Vladik's ass real fast a few more times, feeling the desperation of his rising pleasure, then quickly pulled out, releasing his cock from that hot little orifice, and pressed it between the cleft of Vladik's ass. Then, with a few deft flicks of his wrist, he expertly jacked his teen spunk all over Vladik's back. The sight of that rampant cock, pulsing against Vladik's perfectly rounded little ass, cradled between the groove of that freshly pounded boy butt, was utterly spectacular. Anton unloaded a hefty serving of creamy spunk, his red hot teen dick tumescent against Vladik's tender little boy flesh, squirted out several strong jets of pure white cum onto Vladik's smooth young skin. A couple of those little jets were boosted by the exquisiteness of his orgasm, powered by the high in his brain, and they were ejected with such force that they splashed way up between Vladik's shoulder blades. The remaining jets rained down over the perfectly rounded globes of his little ass, forming a glistening pool of hot white teen spunk, contrasting nicely against Vladik's slightly tanned skin, and which was spattered ever so neatly and ever so prettily between his ass cheeks. God, it was beautiful.

Chapter 16
The Meeting

I was sure that was what I heard. I was about to go into the boys" bedroom to wake them up and that was the refrain I heard through the door.

"Fuck me Mark! Stick it in me!"

It was Vladik.

I paused at the door to listen. Inside there was a lot of huffing and puffing, and the sound of what I could only describe as playfighting. The boys were obviously scrambling about in the bed, probably having a pillow fight. Then there was a pause and I could hear Yura, in perfect English.

"I love you little buddy."

Then Vladik, also in perfect English.

"Fuck me Mark!"

It was an almost perfect imitation. The little tykes were role playing! Yura was playing me and Vladik was evidently pretending to be Yura. I could just imagine Yura settling himself over Vladik's little body, pinning him down and stabbing his stiff boydick into Vladik's willing little cunt. Of course Yura was essentially a bottom boy, but it seemed that didn't apply when he was role playing, and particularly when he was pretending to be me.

"You're really fuckin" special little buddy," he went on.

It sounded just like me! There was a twinge of Russian accent, and of course it was said in his little treble voice, but his phraseology was faultless. It was such a faithful imitation, you had to hand it to them: their improvisation was extremely inventive.

"Yeh, stick it in me real hard," Vladik muttered, getting Yura's terminology down to a tee.

"I'm gonna fuck my spunk into you, little fuckboy," Yura responded, giggling a little.

Okay, that might not have been exactly what I would have said. They were making it up now, but their discourse was frighteningly authentic. God they were good.

I braced myself and knocked on the door, almost sorry to have to interrupt their little game. There was a moment of startled silence – I could just picture them glancing at each other guiltily – and then there was the sound of laughter. They were both entangled in the bedclothes, guffawing manically as I walked in. I decided to feign ignorance.

"What's so funny?" I asked, playing dumb.

They looked at each other and carried on spluttering with laughter. Little boys – you just had to love them.

"Time to get up," I said, "We've got things to do today."

They jumped up out of bed naked, still falling about with laughter. Both of them had the stiffest little boners, the unmistakable evidence of their irrepressible horniness, jutting out of their crotches and waggling in mid-air as they ran into the ensuite bathroom. They burst into the bathroom as though it was a race to be first into the shower and I could hear lots of shouts and protests as they scuffled about jostling for priority. Then there was an inexplicable little pause and Vladik appeared briefly in the bathroom doorway, grinning sheepishly at me. He blatantly wrapped his little hand around his boner, pointed his stiff little dick at me and jacked it hard a couple of times. He had a look in his eyes that said 'I'm yours if you want me." It was the briefest, most fleeting of stares, but its meaning was unequivocal. Then I could hear Yura calling him. Vladik gave a playful giggle and disappeared back into the bathroom. Finally, I heard the steady hiss of the shower jets and soon there was steam billowing out of the bathroom doorway.

Whilst the boys were showering, I set about tidying up the room. I noticed that their pajama bottoms were lying discarded on the floor. I picked them up and smoothed out the bed, which they had left completely disheveled. As I was peeling back the rumpled comforter on the bed, I spotted a piece of clothing that had been stuffed deep into the foot of the bed, probably inadvertently kicked under the covers by the boys. I pulled it free and held it up. It was a pair of Vladik's boxer-briefs. It was a cute little thing, with a spaceflight theme, sporting little motifs of moons, stars, rocket ships and spacemen. I smiled to myself. Finding Vladik's underwear in the bed was delightful. It even had a pronounced roundness in the crotch, where the stretchy fabric had held Vladik's little jewels in place. I realized, as I stood there with that little garment in my hand, that I had the most intense hard-on. It was not just the fact that I was holding Vladik's used underwear, but the fact that those little boxer-briefs had so much spunk dried into them. The boys slept together every night and I knew that they were routinely fucking about in that big bed on their own. It was apparent from the little stains they left on the bed sheets, the very distinctive little hardened spots of dried boyspunk that was the evidence of their nightly cavorting. Vladik's boxer-briefs were so spotted with spunk that it was pretty clear they had been used as a cumrag when there was nothing else to hand. I could just imagine Vladik's rather large boydick urgently spitting out his watery little boy cum into Yura's mouth. And maybe Yura was also squirting his boyjuice over Vladik's tanned young skin. Holding that cute little pair of boxer-briefs in my hand conjured the most exquisite images in my head of those two horny little fuckboys sucking and fucking each other. They were so focused on cock and ass play, I suspected that they were probably playing their little pissing games in the shower right at this moment. That little pair of boxer-briefs, soiled as they were with powdery little cum stains, was extremely arousing.

Later that day, Elena called me to confirm that the paternity test on Yura's father had been done via the Moscow Police. His sample was compared with a swab from Yura and the match had come back positive. Roman was definitely Yura's father. That left the way clear for Yura and his father to finally meet. Roman had been granted a special visa and it was agreed that he would fly in from Saint Petersburg for the meeting. The whole thing was progressing frighteningly quickly, and I was barely able to assimilate the potential impact of it all. I only knew that it was what Yura wanted.

That afternoon, Vladik was at HQ having his initial session with the psychotherapist. Anton was attending his studies. Yura and I were enjoying the last of the afternoon sunshine before it was time to collect Vladik. I was extremely horny. I was thinking about Vladik a lot. Somehow the image of those cum-stained little boxer-briefs stayed with me, and so did the image of the boys running into the shower that morning with stiff little boners. I could still hear Vladik's high-pitched imitation of me saying 'Fuck me Mark!" from their little game that morning. I thought of the way Vladik was so affectionate and tactile with me. I thought about those intense looks he kept giving me and the way he clutched at his crotch, openly flaunting his boyish horniness at me. Then I remembered the utilitarian way that Anton had so neatly fucked him on the lawn the other day, practically on the very spot where Yura and I were lying right now. I fantasized about Vladik's slightly tanned skin and his golden hair, those emerald green eyes, the luscious little ruby lips with that pouting overbite, and those incredibly long legs. I tried to imagine that perfect little ass of his, and that pretty little dick which was a good size for a boy of his age and which had that elegant, graceful little curve to it. Vladik had the hottest, horniest little body, the type that was put on this earth to be fucked hard and splattered with cum. God, I was so horny.

I turned to Yura lying there next to me, naked in the sun. I saw how beautiful he was, how young and sexy and infinitely fuckable he was, and how soft and yielding his body was, and I was suddenly compelled to do something I had never done before. I had an overwhelming and powerful urge to just use him. I needed to fuck. I needed to fuck badly. My cock was so hard it needed to be engulfed in his body. I sat up. He looked at me, not sure what I was going to do, never having seen that particular look in my eyes before. Without any formality whatsoever, I reached out and roughly flipped him over onto his stomach. He was surprised, but made no objection. He had that familiar furrow between his eyebrows, looking concerned, curious as to what I was going to do. He waited, looking behind anxiously as he lay there. I loomed up and quickly mounted him with an urgency I could barely comprehend. Impetuously, I straddled his slim little frame, lowered my pelvis over his little ass and stabbed my iron hard dick right between the soft flesh of his butt cheeks, in exactly the same way as Anton had fucked Vladik the other day. I sought the tightness of Yura's little pucker, and quickly penetrated his tight little muscle with a callousness that I don't think I had ever used on him before. The sheer force and suddenness of my penetration made him scream. I had certainly never done that before. Sure, Yura always yelped or squealed, but this time it was different. This time it was a real little scream, a shrill vocalization of shock as well as pain, as he felt the sting of his little boyhole being stabbed open. It even gave me a tiny thrill of delight to hurt him a little. God, I was so sexed up. With sheer force, and even though I knew it was painful for him, I plunged further into the depths of his little hole giving him no time to adjust, stretching it to its limit and burying my hard cock in his warmth. I looked down at this tiny, helpless little boy lying prostrate between my legs and I just wanted to abuse his little body. My cock was so hard, it was in control. He struggled a little, fighting the pain, but nevertheless bore my penetration. I tried a few hard thrusts, and as I began to stab roughly into him, the only thing I had in my mind was fucking him as fast and hard as I could and injecting a big load of hot spunk deep inside him.

Perhaps it was my mounting frustration over Vladik. Perhaps it was my underlying resentment over Yura's father. I don't know what it was, but I fucked Yura's little body mercilessly for a good long time as though trying to take out my unwarranted irritations on him. He laid there looking slightly oppressed and taken aback, somewhat cowed by my undeserved austerity, not really understanding the motivation behind my animalistic attack. I expelled a loud grunt every time I fucked into him, almost shouting my pleasure into the back of his head with all the regularity of a tennis player, exalting in his abasement and reveling in the ecstasy I was extracting from him. I could see him screw up his eyes tightly every time I fucked down into him, almost crushing his little pelvis. He turned his face into the neatly cut grass, submitting to the pain I was driving into him, and tolerating it as I thoroughly pummeled his little frame into the ground. I labored above him, pistoning in and out of him with reckless abandon, driving towards the ultimate reward that his little body could afford me with an almost obsessive single-mindedness. I huddled over his tiny preteen body feeling the yielding warmth of his boyishness beneath me. He was so vulnerable, so helpless, so totally within my power, at that moment I just wanted to exploit him. Lucky for him I was so sexed up it didn't take long for me to cum. As I felt my orgasm approach, I fucked down into him even harder, working up into a quick, impetuous rhythm that would have been hard to sustain for much longer. I finally exploded in a welcome burst of pure pleasure, which was all concentrated in my big dick buried in his tight, velvety little hole, and culminated in a series of violent contractions that felt like my very lifeblood was being injected into him. I bucked into him as hard as I could and he let out another little scream just as my cock exploded, which for some reason only intensified my orgasm. Hearing his plaintive scream sparked a cruel little twist of delight in my brain which just made me cum even harder. For a long few seconds my cock pulsed inside him, sheathed snugly in his little hole, depositing my spunk deep inside his narrow little pelvis, as though transfusing my very being into him. I couldn't believe how good that felt. Sex with this boy just got better and better.

When it was over, I collapsed, breathless, onto his hot naked little back. Yura laid silent and still beneath me, thoroughly pummeled into the dirt, with his face buried into the crook of his elbow. I slipped out of him, the tip of my flagging cock smearing warm cum all over his round little ass, leaving a little silvery trail of spunk over the smooth matt texture of his butt cheeks. I squeezed the last few drops of spunk from my cock, and a big glop came out all over my fingers. I flicked my wrist and it splashed in a long wet streak across his back. I collapsed onto the ground next to him. I laid down on the grass facing up with one arm draped over my forehead, panting and sweaty. I looked across at him. He laid there motionless, with his head turned towards me, resting on his arm, and his cheek pressed into the grass. He looked almost sorry for himself, a little dazed, perhaps cowed and subdued by my frenzied assault. He didn't move, but he elicited a couple of little sniffs.

"That hurt," he said, flatly.

I noticed he had tears in his eyes, and yet the way he laid there, looking so spent, so vulnerable, so utterly fucked, was strangely pleasing. I knew that I had made him suffer for me. And yet, the way he had said 'that hurt', with a twinge of bitterness towards me for the pain I had inflicted, only served to intensify my arousal.

Yura lifted his little ass up off the ground slightly and freed his other arm, which had evidently been folded underneath him. He brought out his hand and looked at it. There was a deposit of watery little boy spunk right in the middle of his palm. He had been clutching at his own little dick even as I was riding him, and had spunked right into his hand. His own orgasm had gone almost unnoticed by me. I realized that the little scream he had emitted as I was cumming inside him must have been the vocalization of his own little boy cum. It was perversely pleasing to see that even in the midst of a little rough treatment, whilst his little dick was being ground into the dirt, he was still able to sustain a little boner and to pleasure himself to orgasm even as his little cunt was being ravaged. What an utterly sexual little boy he was. When he went to wipe his hand on the grass, I stopped him. I caught his little hand in mine and turned it over. Then I lowered my face into his palm and licked it clean, devouring every last trace of his little boy spunk. It was still warm, sweet and sticky and I savored every drop, feasting on the transparent liquid with all the vulgar relish of a gorging vampire. I looked into Yura's eyes as I did so, showing him how much I loved him, how much I loved every part of him, including this precious fluid that his little body had arduously given up in the heat of our coupling.

For some reason, seeing that Yura had spunked into his little hand just made my cock get hard all over again. I was on fire, and his cuteness, his overt sexuality and sheer fuckability was too hard to resist. I was still as horny as hell and I still wanted him. He was lying there passively. I saw the way my spunk was painted across his back in a thin, watery streak – the spunk that his beautiful preteen body had so deftly wrenched out of me – and I saw how it glistened in the sun, contrasting against the silky smoothness of his creamy young skin. There was still a smear of it on his butt cheeks, and the rest was now leaking out of his tender little boyhole, dripping down his perineum and saturating his hairless little balls. His pretty little body, splattered with my spunk, was a symbol of his ultimate subjugation. This boy was just so sexualized, at that moment it was as though I could subject him to anything I wanted. What I wanted was to defile him. I wanted to totally corrupt him. I wanted to soil his hairless little preteen body and fill it up with spunk. I wanted to break him, possess him, consume him. I wanted to experience that ultimate thrill once again, and I knew that I could carry on until I had extracted every last grain of pleasure from his tiny little frame. I rose up, my cock inordinately stiff, aching to burn its hardness into his already punished boyhole once again. And as I mounted him once more, I leaned in and whispered into the back of his head the very words I had heard him mimicking that morning:

"I love you little buddy. You're really fuckin" special, you know that?"

And with that, he closed his eyes and buried his face in the grass, valiantly bracing himself for yet another hard fuck.

The Midway Plaza was one of those hotels that was always a popular rendezvous spot. It was a well known downtown landmark, and ironically not very far from the Saxon Club, where Anton and I had first arranged to meet. The décor of the hotel was slightly intimidating. It was swanky and plush and seemed to allude to a lifestyle that was characterized by finery and money. The lobby had a highly polished marble floor interspersed with deep velour carpets, and there were ornate carvings and bronzes on pedestals dotted about the place, and decorative pillars with elaborate crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The whole place had a hushed, businesslike air to it, as though all undertakings in such surroundings were expected to be conducted with the corresponding etiquette and discretion. It was exactly the type of establishment I used to frequent when I was with John. We chose to meet Roman at the Midway Plaza not just because it was an easy landmark to find, but because it could also afford us some anonymity without a feeling of isolation. It was an indication of Roman's commitment that he had been prepared to fly in all the way from Saint Petersburg for the meeting, which represented an investment of considerable time and money on his part. Since he was leaving again the next day, it was destined to be a rather hectic twenty-four-hour round trip.

The paternity test had established that Roman was Yura's father beyond doubt. There would have been little point in things proceeding any further if he wasn't. That being the case, Yura was going to see this man for the first time knowing that he really was his father. He asked me to fix his hair for him before we left, and even asked me what clothes he should wear. It was clear that he was anxious to secure his father's approval. I was pretty sure his father would approve of him no matter how he looked.

Roman was already there when we arrived. He was sitting well forward on one of the sofas in the lobby. As we approached, Roman spotted us, and stood up immediately. Yura stopped a few feet away and I was very close behind him, with Anton, Elena and Vladik out to the side somewhere. Roman smiled and immediately focused on Yura. I guess it was one of those moments when it was difficult to judge what kind of greeting was appropriate, but it was pleasing to see that Roman came forward and held out a hand to Yura even before he greeted the rest of us. He smiled, very clearly moved to be setting eyes on Yura for the first time. I nudged Yura forward. He hesitantly stepped towards Roman and Roman leaned over, not just shaking Yura's little hand, but closing in to give him a quick check-to-cheek hug, with a passing squeeze of his shoulders. It was an appropriate and affectionate gesture, without being overly emotional. But I could see that Roman's eyes were moist and maybe he was struggling with the momentousness of this meeting.

We all greeted Roman in turn with the usual formalities and sat down with him, surrounding him on the sofas and armchairs that formed an intimate little huddle amidst the to-ing and fro-ing and general commotion of the hotel lobby. We arranged ourselves so that I was on the sofa with Yura and Elena either side of me, Roman in one armchair, nearest to Yura, and Anton and Vladik sat together on another sofa opposite us. There was a very low, broad table between us. We ordered coffee, tea for Roman, and juice for the boys. Ordering the drinks broke the ice somewhat, and there were further formalities as we passed around the cream and sugar. In true Russian style, Roman drank his tea black.

In the flesh, Roman looked very distinguished. His face was a variation on Yura's familiar features, with the same arrangement of nose and lips, and of course those very distinctive cobalt-blue eyes. He had that same thick head of wavy black hair, although slightly shorter and rather more carefully groomed than Yura's. He was an extremely handsome man.

From what I surmised, Roman worked as a doctor back in Saint Petersburg. He was a pediatrician, in fact. He was clearly very educated and highly accomplished in his field, and had reached quite a senior level for someone of his age. He was warm and receptive and seemed quite attentive, with good eye contact and plenty of positive gestures and expressions. Something told me that this man was well versed in the art of conversation. His mannerisms and choice of words were very much in keeping with someone who was obviously advanced in the social graces and who could no doubt interact effectively at all levels. He was confident, self-assured, intelligent and personable.

The discussion was slightly tentative to start with. But it was delightful to see that Roman spoke both English and Russian, and he seemed to have no difficulty switching from one to the other. For Yura's sake, we all settled into speaking in Russian. I could see Roman really making an effort to talk to Yura. He seemed surprisingly composed, and extremely well informed about things that Yura might want to talk about, like the types of video games he liked. It was clear that he was comfortable talking to Yura on his level and I had no doubt that stemmed from having another son back at home. He and Yura chatted quite animatedly for a while, just getting the feel of each other, to begin with not exchanging any words of great value. It was mostly polite pleasantries, very superficial, not contrived, just relaxed and unpretentious.

A little way into the conversation, Roman pulled out a large envelope that he had strategically placed by his side on the armchair he was sitting in, and he gave it to Yura.

"This is for you," he said, "Nikita made it for you."

Yura looked at it, then tentatively accepted the oversized envelope. He opened the flap, which was not sealed, just tucked in at the tip. Curiously, Yura pulled out a handmade card. It was unevenly cut, and folded crookedly, with a childish drawing of two little hollow figures on the front, heavily scribbled into the card in erratic crayon. Inside was a message, written in Russian in spidery, childish letters. Yura held it up for me to read.

"For my new brother. I love you. Nika."

"Look Mark," said Yura, with a look of wonderment, "It's from my brother!"

I smiled encouragingly, genuinely touched that a little six year old boy on the other side of the world, whom Yura had never even met, could be so thoughtful. It was a lovely gesture.

Yura looked at Roman, visibly moved by the card.

"Thanks," he said, "I wish I had something to give him too."

"I'm sure you will have plenty to give him when you see him," said Roman, prophetically, "He loves the idea of having an older brother."

There was a pause, then Roman reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a photograph.

"I have something for you too," he said, and handed Yura the glossy picture.

The photo was of a bicycle, propped up against a wooden picket fence.

"That bike is yours," said Roman, "Call it an early birthday present. I'm sorry I won't be around for your birthday."

Yura grinned happily and showed the photograph to Vladik.

"I couldn't bring it with me," Roman went on, "But it will be waiting for you when you come to Saint Petersburg."

It seemed Roman had it all worked out. Frighteningly, he had already resolved the entire matter in his mind. He seemed so sure that he had even bought Yura a new bicycle. He seemed to already know how it was all going to pan out. Yura would go to Saint Petersburg and, if all worked out as Roman intended, that's where he would stay, with him and Natalya and little Nikita.

"So what do you think?" Roman asked him, "Would you like to come and visit us in Saint Petersburg?"

Yura looked up at the ceiling, as though considering it, then looked back towards Roman.

"Yes. I would love to."

Then Yura turned to Elena.

"That is okay isn't it?" he asked her.

Elena nodded.

"It's up to you," she replied, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Yura nodded affirmatively.

"It's okay," he said, sounding positive, "I want to."

Inevitably, the conversation moved from small talk to the more meaningful stuff, and this was where Yura really impressed me. He had said that he would have a few questions to ask his father, and he did not let the momentousness of the occasion get the better of him. He remembered exactly what he wanted to ask, and the first question was to do with why his father had abandoned him.

"The truth is, I didn't know about you. Do you think I would have abandoned you if I did?"

Yura shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe you didn't want me."

Roman smiled, letting Yura know that that wasn't the case.

"No," he said, "I was young and reckless in those days, but if I had known I had a beautiful little baby son, I would have been there for you. I would never have abandoned you."

Yura seemed reassured by that.

"So you really didn't know?"

Roman shook his head in confirmation.

"No. I didn't even know your mother was pregnant. It was a short, casual relationship and we weren't together for very long. So all this time, I didn't even know you existed. The first I knew of you was when Anton told me about you. It was one of the happiest days of my life when I found out I had been blessed with another son – you."

Yura blinked, his long seductive eyelashes betraying his surprise. He seemed taken aback by his father's sentiments.

"I only wish I had been there for you," Roman went on, "if only to save you from all the awful things you have had to go through."

"You know about that?" Yura asked.

"Some of it," Roman replied, nodding.

Yura looked disappointed, perhaps wishing that his father had been spared knowing about his past as a porn boy.

"Tell me about my mom," Yura asked, changing the subject slightly.

Roman looked uncomfortable.

"You want to know about your mom?"

"Yes," said Yura, nodding, "Why didn't she want me?"

"I think your mom did want you," said Roman, "But she couldn't look after you."

"Why?"

Roman took a deep breath, visibly discomfited by Yura's questioning, but resolved to tell him the truth.

"Your mother was a junkie," said Roman, with a hint of revulsion, almost as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, "the only thing she loved was angel dust."

"What's that?"

"It's a drug that makes you do crazy things. She was out of her mind most of the time."

"What happened to her?"

"She became psychotic," said Roman, "You know what that is?"

Yura shook his head.

"It's when people lose touch with reality, they have delusions and hallucinations, that kind of thing."

"She was crazy? said Yura, questioningly.

Roman nodded, vaguely amused.

"Kind of," he said, "She was disturbed. The drugs just messed up her mind."

"Is that going to happen to me?" Yura asked.

"No," said Roman, with a good natured laugh, "You can't catch it or pass it on."

"What about you? What do you do?"

"I'm what is called a Pediatric Oncologist," said Roman, "You know what that is?"

I wasn't sure whether I even knew what that was.

Yura shook his head, waiting attentively for the explanation.

"I treat children with cancer," Roman said.

"Children who are dying?" Yura asked.

"Some of them," Roman nodded, "But I cure most of them."

That sounded grand and heroic – a much more honorable profession than mine.

"Isn't that a hard job?" Yura asked.

I could see Roman was visibly impressed by the maturity of Yura's questions.

"Sometimes it's very hard," Roman confessed, "But I also get a lot of satisfaction out of it. The best thing is that I get to meet a lot of very sweet and very brave children. Very special children."

That was the nature of the conversation that afternoon, which resolved some of the fundamental questions about the course of Yura's life, and why Roman had not had the opportunity to be a part of it thus far. It seemed to answer a lot of questions for Yura. There was still a lot more that needed to be clarified. I was sure it would in time. By the time we left the hotel, a tentative rapport had been established between Roman and Yura. So much so that when we all got up to leave, Roman's parting hug was more substantial than his greeting, and he pulled Yura to him tightly in a very affectionate embrace. It was clear that this man was determined to make up for lost time, given the opportunity. In his turn, I could see Yura hugging him back, his little arms squeezing with all the strength he could muster, but his apprehension still apparent from the way his hands were clenched into little fists as he did so. Then Roman did something which I thought was especially sweet and endearing – he gave Vladik a little hug too, just so he wouldn't feel left out, acknowledging him as Yura's best friend. What a lovely gesture. Like I said, it was gestures like that which told you what was in people's hearts.

For my part, I had put my feelings aside throughout the entire meeting. This was something that Yura wanted, and I had no intention of trying to influence him one way or the other. That was not to say that I had no view. I knew exactly what my feelings were as we bade goodbye to Roman. The truth was, I only wished I could say I hated him. I wished I could claim that he should not be allowed anywhere near Yura. I wished I could say that he was inept and ineffectual, and that he was totally unsuitable to be Yura's father. But that would just be downright selfish and mean. Not only mean, but also untrue. In fact, he was a decent man. He loved Yura. Yura had bonded well with him. They had established a good rapport and had genuine affection for each other. He was able to be the father Yura never had. He was a hero. A pediatric oncologist, no less. He saved children's lives. Even I couldn't compete with that. He was successful, learned, accomplished. He was able to provide a stable, loving environment and look after Yura for the rest of his life. And why shouldn't Yura have that? Why shouldn't Yura at long last be rewarded with a proper family with a father, a mother and even a little brother? God knows, after all he had been through, he deserved it. It was what everyone wanted for him. It was right that he should be with his natural father. Who was I to deny him that? I could not be a surrogate father to him in the same way as John was to me. Of course I loved Yura, and loving Yura meant wanting to do the best for him. But if I truly loved him, I knew I would have to let him go.

Meeting Roman was the first definitive indication I had that I was going to lose Yura. Of course, I had always known at the back of my mind that my time with Yura would have to come to an end some day. But even so, now that it was almost a certainty, and that day was finally drawing closer, the prospect filled me with profound sadness. That day was no longer a distant blur on the horizon, but had now become actual and menacing. The prospect that I would be separated from Yura, to the degree that he would go off to live the rest of his life in peace, with people that loved him, was almost too painful to acknowledge. Yet I knew it was the only logical outcome. There was no future for me in his life. I had served my purpose, and I knew then that the days I had spent with this very special little boy would soon be over. It was with that knowledge that we gathered up our things and prepared to go. Having said our farewells to Roman, we headed for the door, stepping out of the plush air conditioned tranquility of the hotel lobby into the noise and bustle of the street, back to where we had parked the car. Behind us, Anton and Vladik walked with Elena, talking about how well they thought the meeting had gone. Beside me, Yura was quiet and thoughtful. As I walked with him, his diminutive little body striding confidently along the sidewalk next to me, I knew that this was now the beginning of the end of my time with Yura. I extended an arm affectionately around his precious shoulders, as we had become accustomed, and I couldn't help pulling him closer to me in a gesture of solidarity and love. It was almost subconscious, a token gesture of defiance in the face of that cruel inevitability. He noticed it, and turned to look up at me, as though to ask why I had done that, and he smiled sweetly, accepting my loving embrace. At that moment, feeling the love he had for me, I smiled back, looking down into those magical, beautiful eyes of his, acknowledging his loving glance. And as I did so, I struggled to keep my emotions at bay and a silent little tear escaped from the corner of my eye. I knew that I was going to lose him and although I was outwardly smiling back at him, looking pleased for him, inside I could already feel my heart breaking.

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