Chapter 11
A Coming of Age, Part 1

Story told by Justin. Justin heads off on a four-week holiday relieved and overjoyed to be free of Dimitri but he cannot stop thinking about everything that has happened to him and wondering why he feels as he does. While camping he meets a straight 16 yo boy whom he entices to have oral sex with him.

Characters: Jeremy (12yo), Rich (16yo)

When we pulled away from the curb and headed out of the city I had mixed feelings. Our first stop was going to be in the Crowsnest Pass where we were going to visit my grandparents, my dad's parents, for four days. I enjoyed visiting the Crowsnest Pass, listening to my grandfather's tales, which he could tell nonstop for hours, going fly fishing with him in the river, picnicking at one of the lakes, hiking with my dad along one of the mountain trails he hiked when he lived there as a kid, and playing board games in the evenings. Time always went by quickly and I was always amazed we could spend an entire weekend without once watching television or playing a video game. Then we were heading off camping for three weeks. I enjoy camping, and we were going to two of my favourite places, the Okanagan and Banff National Park. Normally I'd be looking forward to our family vacation. That was, however, before DS, before Dimitri Savalos. And this was a Wednesday. Both were of major significance.

As we headed down the highway, I inserted Call of Duty, the latest Modern Warfare game, to pass the time but I couldn't concentrate. My mind kept wandering. Actually, it wasn't wandering. It was focussing on Dimitri. When school ended and my dad brought home the trailer and my parents began cleaning it and packing for our vacation the thought of not seeing Dimitri for almost a whole month made me feel especially happy, and definitely relieved. We were now seeing each other three days out of the week, and for the other four days he was on my mind, constantly, me either thinking about our last visit or the upcoming one, and always the first with guilt and the latter with apprehension. When I had begun tutoring him every Thursday and Sunday just after Easter he had really creeped me out the way he would just sit and stare at me with this look that made me think he was dreaming up wicked and diabolical things to do to me.

During our fourth lesson those things began. He fucked me, up the ass, right there that morning in his bedroom while his family was at church, and I squirted my semen for the first time in my life, with a guy's cock up my ass! I was like totally mortified. I had been raped! And I had orgasmed, while a guy was fucking me! I should have tried to fight him off harder. He was a lot bigger and stronger than I was and I would have probably still been raped, but at least I would have done something instead of just lying there on my back with my legs spread like a girl. So what did I do about it? The next Thursday afternoon I went back and he fucked me again, and made me suck up my cum and lick off his shitty cock after being up his asshhole, right there in his room with his mother up the hall in the kitchen. I should have called for help. I should have fought him and raised a ruckus so she would hear and intervene. But no, not shit-for-brains, chicken shit Justin Bromley. I did nothing to stop him. Nothing! Zip-O! He made me feel so dirty no amount of soap or mouthwash could make me feel clean that afternoon, or ever again. I should have reported him to my parents that afternoon, but no, again I did nothing.

Even worse, I went back for still more! I joined him in church the following Sunday, and we creamed each other's underwear in his room afterward while his parents and family were down the hall. I had every chance in the world to put a stop to it then. I could have called his parents for help. I could have gone straight to them afterward and reported him, shown them my sticky crotch as evidence, I could have told my parents and we could have gone to the police with the evidence, but no, instead I went home with my tail between my legs, and my cum soaking in my underwear, after agreeing to go to church with him every Sunday and switching our so called tutoring to the afternoons so we could still engage in his perversions. The next tutoring session I sucked him off, twice, and went and bought a dozen bananas so I could learn to take his cock down my throat. I was a filthy, spineless pervert. I was a puppet to do whatever he bid!

I didn't think things could get worse, but they did. The day of our next session Dimitri picked me up after school instead and took me to an old warehouse where I discovered he had kidnapped the school bully and my nemesis Cory Carson and stuffed him in the trunk of his car. He made Cory suck me off and then he fucked him and had him jack off in front of us. Now I was an accomplice to kidnapping and sexual assault besides being a filthy, spineless pervert. And as Cory stood there ashamed, humiliated, and angry, his briefs sticking to his ass and soaking up Dimitri's slime, did I feel sorry for him? Did I feel ashamed and filthy too? I did not. I was elated over his debasement and embarrassment and charged with the power that I'd had over him. I don't care what anyone says. Vengeance is sweet. Very sweet. As I peddled back to my house I admired Dimitri. I admit it. Nobody dared push him around. And after that day Cory Carson wouldn't push me around either. I had Dimitri Savalos to thank for that. My life changed big time that day.

I had actually looked forward to joining him at church that next Sunday even though I knew we'd end up doing fag stuff afterward. I had been creeped out the first time he had touched me where he wasn't supposed to, and I still was then, but I was getting use to his touch. When I got to church I discovered it was his birthday and I felt terrible not bringing him a present, especially when I attended his party with his family afterward, and especially after the favour he had done me getting Cory off my back. How ungrateful can a guy be? Then the police showed up and my heart leaped to my throat. I thought for sure they had come about Cory and were going to arrest Dimitri and me. I found out later that they had come to question him about some other abduction or something which really pissed him off and ruined the rest of the day for everyone. We didn't have a tutoring session or sex. When I went home I realized I'd had an opportunity to talk to the police about what he was doing to me, but after what I had done to Cory with him that was like the kettle calling the pot black as my grandfather says. Besides, what was I going to tell them? That I was Dimitri's faggot fuck boy? That is what I was. His sex slave.

Thursday Dimitri was still pissed off about the police and that was when he told me why they'd come. He was so pissed he didn't even suggest sex. But he did invite me over to his house that weekend for a sleep over, and I went. A fourteen-year-old boy packing his pajamas and toothbrush and sleeping over with a twenty-three-year-old man! Now if that isn't sick, what is? As usual he left his door open and his brother and sister were home so I figured that just maybe we'd just stay up late and talk and stuff and stuff ourselves with junk food like me and my friends do when we have sleep overs. I should have known better. I felt sort of embarrassed and self-conscious stripping and putting on my pajamas, which was stupid considering we'd done more than just see me naked by then. He changed into a sleeveless T-shirt and blue boxers with a white pattern of roosters. He laughed and said the company called them cock trunks. I thought he was just making that up but he pulled out his laptop and showed me the ad for swim trunks by Austinben. As we lay down, he said we had a lot of catching up to do and he leaned over me and gave me a long kiss, on the lips. It was my first real kiss, long and on the lips and stuff, and it sent a shiver up my dink and gave me a weird feeling. I wondered if I'd have felt the same if my first real kiss was with a girl. I told him I was sorry I hadn't known it was his birthday last Sunday, and I gave him a friendship bracelet I had made and I apologized it wasn't much and I felt real cheap it not being expensive or anything but I had no money to buy him a real gift. He put it on and said the best gifts are those that come from the heart, not the wallet, and he took my hand in his and kissed me on the cheek. My dink twitched again and I felt goose bumps. I thanked him too for what he did to Cory, and he said "nobody messes with my man" and that Cory had more coming yet. He was still holding my hand and he moved it over to his crotch and said "but if you want to show me how thankful you are I won't object."

He released my hand and, well, I did owe him for stopping Cory from bullying me and I had given him a cheap gift no matter what he said. I slipped my fingers in the fly of his boxers and wrapped them about his dink and mine twitched again and began to swell. "Hey, these are cock trunks," I said, and he laughed. It was a real laugh. The first time I'd ever heard a laugh from him that was real. I cupped his nuts and rolled them. They were warm and damp and I don't know why but I slipped my hand out and sniffed my fingers. You could smell his sex on them, spicy and sexy. I felt his fingers slip in the fly of my pajamas and fiddle with my dink and as he leaned over and kissed me on the lips again, long and hard, I reached back down and slipped my fingers back in the fly of his trunks. His was swelling too.

I considered just jerking him, but I figured I owed him more. I twisted around so I was facing the other direction, and pushing his trunks down, I slipped my lips about his cock. It was still limp and I went all the way down the shaft to his hairs. He was pushing my pajamas bottoms down and had his mouth on my cock too and started sucking on it. I was hard in no time and he still had his lips all the way down to the base. By then his was pushing the back of my throat. I inhaled deep and held my breath and kept my lips tight about his swelling cock. It was fleekin feeling his dink swelling between my lips, and kept my lips about the base as long as I could before I finally had to slip them back up or I would have gagged. When it's hard, you can wrap your fingers about it at the base with one hand and wrap your fingers about it above your first fist and still have the knob sticking out. I was able to go down almost a fist and a half.

"Hey, you can go down a lot farther now," he whispered.

"I been practising."

"Well, this banana's going to have a creamy reward for all that practice."

My dink really jerked and his throbbed and he went back down on my dink. At the time I didn't know why it was, but our sex that night was way totally different from our sex previously. At the time I figured it was because we had sixty-nined instead of just me doing him, or because we had done it lying in his bed instead of at his desk. But it was different. The other times I felt filthy and I felt like throwing up. This time I really wanted to please him. Because of what he'd done for me I figured. And he wanted to please me too. He showed me how to use my lips to clamp down on his cock and delay him shooting. He licked the rim of my bulb to really get me hot and then nibbled it to cause just enough pain to stop me from shooting. I sucked his banana for I bet at least ten minutes and he sucked my dick, and then I got my reward and it was creamy, and hot, and lots of it, and I came too and he swallowed my stuff. And then I twisted around again and we kissed, my lips slimy with his cum and his lips slimed with mine. He pressed his lips against mine and spit in my mouth, spitting his saliva and what was left of my cum in his mouth, and my cock was hard once again in an instant and he said that was the great thing about being fourteen.

I ran my fingers through his thick chest hair and he caressed my butt as we kissed and he ran his finger up my crack and massaged my asshole with the tip of his finger. He reached over and took a tube of lube out of the drawer of his night table and he smeared it over my anus and pushed a gob into my rectum with the tip of his finger and I put a dab on my fingertips and smeared it over his cockhead. Placing the pillows in the middle of the bed to raise my ass, he had me raise my legs so my knees were over my head and he knelt behind me. I felt his cock wedge in my hole and I pushed out as he pressed forward. We'd done this enough times to know what to do and we were greased up good, but he is thick and I'm tight and we grunted and snorted and really strained to get his knob in my ass. I knew anyone in the hallway could hear us and had to know what we were doing, but I didn't care. He'd helped me, and I was his man, and what the fuck, it was just sex. We were just horny and two guys getting their nuts off. That didn't mean anything. It didn't mean fuck. Well, it did actually. It meant a long, hot fuck. I bet fifteen minutes. My anus was burning like the skin had been pealed off and my dickhead was itching like someone was using it for a pincushion. I had to get off bad. Real bad. Each time I got to that point he stopped fucking me, and when I tried to ride his cock for the few seconds more it would take, he stopped me.

And then finally he came, snorting and grunting like a wild pig so loud his mom and dad had to have heard it all the way in their room, or his brother in his room beneath us. His cum spurted up my rectum so hard I could feel it, like there was a hose stuck up my ass and someone had turned on the tap. And he was right. We had a lot of catching up to do. I thought he would never stop squirting. And I was coming too, lying there on my back, my dink wagging and waving like a flagpole in the wind, my juice spurting out in hot, thick gobs, spurt after spurt. I sprayed my face and my chest and my shoulders. I grabbed it and aimed it and caught my cream in my mouth, squirt after squirt. It was fleekin!

We sixty-nined a second time and I didn't give a damn that his cock had been up my ass. He'd wiped it off with a baby wipe, which he said was the greatest invention for faggots, and that was good enough for me. He said the lube we had used was flavoured and edible and when I slipped my lips about his cock I thought he'd been joking but it really was-banana flavoured! We laughed about that. I sucked on his pecker eagerly, wanting to please him, wanting the pleasure of sucking a guy's cock, and he filled my mouth with the most delicious banana-flavoured cream imaginable, thick, slimy, and gooey. And I came just as hard, the third time that night, and he said my teenboy flavoured slime was just as tasty. It was an unbelievable night, hot, pleasurable, and filled with love. We were so drained, neither of us even thought about sex the next afternoon after church. I had thought about it in the morning, and I'd asked God to forgive me for my sin, though how something that felt so good was a sin and so disliked by everyone I was no longer sure.

Thinking about it now as I sat there in the back seat gave me a boner. I reached down to push it into a more comfortable position. My kid brother who was sitting on my right and looking out the window had to choose that moment to turn his head and catch me. He screwed up his face with a look of disgust and looked away. I pretended my pants had worked up around my crotch and I was just stretching my jeans back down, but he was not convinced. Well, what the hell does he know? He's only nine.

Then there is Jeremy. We are both members of the Saint Joseph's Academy Chess Club. The Tuesday before the sleep over Mr. Whiting had suggested I talk to Dimitri about playing chess with Jeremy and me since he had been an expert player when he was in school and there was nobody in our club that was a challenge for us anymore. Knowing what I knew, I figured that was a bad idea all around and I had hesitated and tried to delay it but Jeremy and Whiting were keen about the idea and I had no choice but to mention it to Dimitri, who of course quickly agreed. I dreaded our first game knowing what ultimately happened to our tutoring sessions and I warned Jeremy without of course being able to give any details but our first game was totally innocent, and Dimitri was an expert chess player.

At our tutoring session the next day Dimitri talked more about Jeremy than we did about math, saying how good-looking he was and so cute and that he looked like he was in good physical shape and he asked me if we were good friends and a dozen questions about him. It made me sick because I knew what he was thinking. We were in the club together and played at the same level, but Jeremy was two grades behind me and the only time we ever met was at the club and at chess tournaments, and occasionally at each other's home for practice. I really didn't know anything about him, but I did know he was innocent. He is only twelve! The next Wednesday and the Wednesday after that Jeremy and I each played a board and Dimitri played both of us at the same time, and beat both of us. There was a lot of suggestive talk and moves, especially the second Wednesday, rubbing his thigh or clutching his crotch or scratching his nuts while he thought of his next move, talking about the upcoming Grade Nine Prom and girls and guys making out, and when he showed Jeremy a move he should have made he placed his hand on his shoulder or his thigh. He said we should skip next week Wednesday for chess and Thursday for tutoring as exams were coming up and it was prom week. Jeremy said he was okay for chess and I said that taking a week off was a good idea and that I had to study. Jeremy still insisted he could play chess and I knew if he came to Dimitri's house alone he would be in for a shock and I said again it was impossible for me and practising some moves before we met again would be a good idea. To my surprise, Dimitri agreed and said we'd meet in two weeks instead, which was a big relief, but then he said "it will give me a chance to think of some really wicked moves to try on you" and he looked directly at Jeremy. I knew exactly what those wicked moves would be.

Friday the following week, the day of the Junior High Prom, was a day I will never forget. Cory Carson had backed off totally, and was treating me almost like he was my slave, thanks to Dimitri. I don't know what he'd said to Cory, but Dimitri told me he had a very special day planned for him, and a very special treat for "his man" for the fantastic sleep over we'd had. That did not bring me any comfort. I'd seen a very different person that weekend, a person who came to the defence of his friends, a person who rewarded good friendship, and a person who knew a lot of useful stuff and from whom you could learn a lot, but deep down I still feared and distrusted him. When I learned what my part in his plan was, my suspicions were confirmed about Dimitri's evil nature, but after what Cory had been doing to me for years, I had no regrets.

So I had my father pick up Melissa Blanchard, one of the hottest and most stacked girls in junior high, who was Cory's date but whom I pretended was my date, and then pick up Cory, who Dimitri referred to as Corina, who dressed in drag with a sexy red dress and shoes and panties and bra and lipstick and rouge and the whole bit. Cory said it was to pay a bet he had lost but I knew he was being forced to by Dimitri, and I had a good idea what he was using to blackmail him. I sat with Cory and Melissa during the grad supper, and when the dancing started I asked the first girl I saw who I figured wouldn't turn me down and I took her over to where Cory and Melissa were dancing and danced beside them as Dimitri told me to. I didn't really have any regular group of girls I was friends with and for most of junior high I had been considered a nerd and a looser. It was only this past month since Cory had his sudden change that girls even noticed me, and I knew that was more because of curiosity than any real interest in me. I knew even then that they mostly danced with me because they were curious about my relationship with Cory.

Then at 7:50 Cory disappeared and rumours began circulating that there was a guy in the boys' can who was giving free blow jobs, and that the guy had red shoes and a red dress. I totally believed it, but I had no desire to check it out. Half the guys at the Prom did. At ten I went outside and Dimitri was parked there at the doors as he said he would be. Cory arrived ten minutes later and from the way his makeup was smeared and his hair all messed, he looked like he'd spent the last two hours sucking cock. For those two hours I had no shortage of attention, guys wanting to know what was going on between Cory and me and if the rumours that Cory was giving blow jobs in the can were true, and girls pretending they wanted to dance but really wanting to know what was going on with Cory whom every girl was hot for because of his looks and athletics.

The next two hours after the dance were totally unexpected. Dimitri took us to this seedy hotel room and he filmed Cory and me acting out several skits he had sketched out. First we were two teenage fags making out with each other for the first time on Grad Night. Cory and I were awkward and embarrassed and self-conscious so it took no acting at all. In the second we were two teen lovers and gay activists defying the school authorities and all in love, which for Cory and me was a real stretch and we had to repeat the stripping and kissing and foreplay half a dozen times before Dimitri was satisfied. In the third skit I was a closet fag and Cory a drag queen whore, and in the fourth I played a straight boy who dumped his date for a stacked broad, Cory, but found out she was really a trans. All four skits involved stripping and engaging in foreplay, and they all ended with Cory on his back and me fucking him up the ass. We acted out the first part of the scenes for the first hour and a half and then filmed the conclusion the last half hour. Cory of course was totally humiliated and grossed out. I was too, but at least I was the one doing the screwing, and after the way Cory had treated me I ignored the gross part and focussed on my revenge and my hate for him, and that took no acting at all. I got home half an hour after curfew but Dad wasn't upset. Actually he was surprised and impressed with my date and I could see he was proud of me. If he only knew! Dimitri cancelled tutoring for the next week, but we played chess on Wednesday. He said to make us try extra hard, we would play Ask and Tell. If one of us lost a piece the guy who won could ask the guy a question and he had to answer the truth. Jeremy lost the first piece and Dimitri asked him if he'd ever seen a girl's private parts. Jeremy giggled and blushed and said no. I lost the next piece with the same question and answer. Dimitri lost the next piece to Jeremy, which I figured was on purpose, and Jeremy grinned and asked the same question, to which Dimitri replied that he had.

"What's your favourite dessert?" Me: chocolate forest cake. Dimitri: I thought for sure you'd say banana cream pie. I turned red.

"Have you ever jerked off?" Jeremy: no. Me (guiltily and to Jeremy's surprise): yes. Dimitri: lots of times (also to Jeremy's surprise).

"Do you check out the other guys in the showers or change room in gym?" Jeremy: sometimes.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" Jeremy and me: no.

"Has a guy ever kissed you?" Jeremy: no. Me: yes. Jeremy's eyes widened when he heard that.

"Have you ever gotten a boner?" Jeremy and me: yes. Dimitri: every day.

"Do you like girls?" Jeremy and me: yes. Dimitri: not really.

"Have you ever touched another boy's dick or has another boy held yours?" Me: yes, Jeremy: a very firm no.

"Do you like boys?" Jeremy: you mean, like… Dimitri: yes. Jeremy: again a strong no.

"Does it bother you when we drive through here?" Mom's question interrupted my thoughts. I looked out the window. We were passing through the place where the mountain slid down and buried a town and a bunch of people. "No matter how many times we drive through here, it still gives me the shivers," Mom said. We were there already.

That evening as we are preparing for bed there is a musical tune from my back pack, Never Let You Go by the singer Justin Bieber.

Ooh no, ooh no, ooh
They say that hate has been sent
So let loose the talk of love
Before they outlaw the kiss
Baby give me one last hug.

"Where is that coming from? It's not my phone."

"Nor mine." "Ah, that's mine." I grabbed it. It was a text message from Dimitri.

"HI THERE, MY MAN. HOW R THINGS GOING FUCK BOY?"

"FINE. AT MY GRANDPARENTS. GETTING READY 4 BED." I typed back.

"WISH I WAS GETTING READY 4 BED WITH U. I'LL WANK 1 OFF THINKING OF U 2NIGHT. TEXT U L8R. KISS. KISS."

"ME 2. KISS AND HUGS." Now why did I type that!

"Since when did you get a cell phone?"

"And where did you get the money for it?"

"Ah, I got it a week ago. It's a gift."

"A gift?" asked Mom. "From whom? That looks expensive."

Dad reaches for it and I hand it to him. Damn. This is my first phone. Does it keep text messages like Email does? Do you have to delete them? Do they show up automatically? Crap, if he read… "Nice. She must have really enjoyed her date."

"Her? Date?" asked Mom.

"The Prom. Remember, I told you about the girl. Really hot," dad said, making me turn red. "What was her name?"

"Melissa," I said, keeping up the charade. He had no idea who my real date had been or who had given me the phone. Hint: my date's shoes had been as red as my face.

We camp in a tent trailer. Mom and Dad sleep in the pullout at one end, and my kid brother and I in the pullout at the other end, with my sister on the foldout sofa in the middle. I went to bed that night totally confused. One of the things I had looked forward to was being away from Dimitri and I had spent the first three hours of my vacation thinking about him, and getting boned up. And that night I respond to his text with kisses and hugs.

The next four days went by fast and I was busy from the moment I got up until the moment I went to bed as I knew it would be. I didn't have a moment to think about Dimitri or Jeremy or Cory or anything else during the day. Each night though Dimitri texted me just as he said he would, always just as I was crawling into bed. Each time I felt a thrill of excitement seeing it was him and surge through my crotch when I read his message, always filled with obscenities and sexual comments which caused me to blush even though nobody had any idea what I was reading. Dad got a big laugh out of it and winked at Mom and said stuff like "young love." After we texted I laid there for a long time wondering why I was looking forward to his messages and getting a rush out of them before I fell asleep.

On Sunday when I didn't hear from him I sent him a text. "HI. DIDN'T GET A TEXT. HOPE EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT."

"HEY SWEET CHEEKS. SORRY. WE HAD A BIG CELEBRATION TODAY. MY MOTHER'S BDAY. ACTUALLY IT'S TOMORROW BUT THE FAMILY GATHERED TODAY. MISSED U FUCK BOY."

"I MISS U 2. WISH I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE."

"Y DON'T U PHONE ME AND WE CAN HAVE SOME HOT PHONE SEX?"

"THAT WOULD BE DIFFICULT WITH THE FAMILY ALL UNDER 1 ROOF."

"LMFAO. COULD BE INTERESTING. BET IT WOULD SHOCK UR MOTHER."

"IT SURE WOULD."

"OK FUCK BOY. U TEXT ME 2MORROW. OR IF U CAN BREAK AWAY FROM FAMILY, PHONE ME. I'D LOVE 2 HEAR UR SWEET VOICE. WILL GO 2 BED JERKING OFF AND THINKING OF UR TONGUE SWIRLING AROUND MY COCK. KISS KISS."

"AND I WILL GO TO BED THINKING OF… SUCKING IT. NO PLACE PRIVATE TO JERK HERE. KISSES."

Why did I type that! I didn't like doing it. Not really. I was being made to. I just wished-I don't know what I just wished. My mother would be more than just shocked to read what I had typed. I wondered what she would think if she knew what I'd written. I wondered what she would think if she knew what I and Dimitri did those days I tutored him. I wondered what Dimitri's mother would think. I suspected that she knew. It took me a long time to fall asleep. When I woke in the morning, my pajamas bottoms were wet and sticky. Oh God! I rolled them into a ball and stuffed them under my pillow and hoped they would dry before night. They didn't. They were damp, and cold.

The next day was a long drive. I played a bit of Call of Duty but I couldn't think about the game and the moves. I thought about the text messages. Why was I typing those things? I hated what we were doing. It was disgusting, and so was I. What sort of frackin' pervert was I? We got to the Okanagan Provincial Park campground late in the evening but I hadn't noticed the day passing at all. It was full, as it always is, but Dad had made reservations, as he always does. I checked out the can. It only had one urinal and one toilet stall and someone had removed the latch so you couldn't secure the door. There were four showers, all in use. The next day was hot. We drove down to Penticton and went to the beach at Skaha Lake, one of our favourite things to do, and spread out our blankets and Dad blew up the new inflatable raft he had boughten.

We'd all changed into our swimwear back at the campground. I had debated whether to wear the suit Mom had packed for me, or the one Dimitri had given me along with the phone the Sunday after the last time we had played chess, or more truthfully, had played Ask and Tell. The gifts had been a surprise, first the phone which he gave me after Sunday dinner and then the package with the swimsuit which he told me to open when I got home. Even more of a surprise was that we didn't have sex that afternoon. His father and his sister's fiancé had walked by and gone into the guest room while he was giving me the gifts, but the presence of any of his family had never stopped him from having sex if he wanted to before. He left then for maybe five or ten minutes, and then came back and motioned for me to come with him. We just stepped out of his room when his father and his sister's fiancé came out of the guest room and Dimitri gave them this look of his and took me to the door and said goodbye and that he'd see me after my holiday. It was weird, but not having sex with him with his house full of family I wasn't going to question. Anyway, when we'd left home I'd almost left it behind. There was no way I'd never wear it, not in front of the family. In the end I decided to bring it with me, but there was no way I'd never use it. This morning, in the can, I put it on.

"Oh my God, Justin! Where did you get that?" my mom gasped. I knew she would. It was a mistake bringing it.

"Another gift."

Dad snorted and whistled. "That had to have been some date," he said with a leer. I wonder if parents realize how dumb they look when they leer like that. I turned as red as Cory's shoes. "You must have really impressed her! Did you model it for her? Jesus! You can see… everything!"

"Not everything," I protested, my cheeks and forehead feeling like they'd been sunburnt. "Com'on, last one in the water is a rotten egg," I said, turning and racing for the lake.

"Hey, no fair, you got a head start," came the complaint from Jimmy and Beverly as they charged after me. I slowed down. I didn't need their complaining about me on top of everything else. I was in enough trouble as it was. I heard Mom say something about my suit being indecent, and Dad say something about he had not realized how much I'd developed since last summer.

The suit was actually a swimsuit and water-resistant underwear all in one. So the label said. It was a light brown and made of what they called faux leather, whatever that is, and consisted of a belt, a sort of triangular pouch like a jock, and a narrow strap that joined the pouch to the belt in the back and was barely wide enough to cover your bumhole and certainly didn't cover your ass cheeks. The package said they were low-risers. They sort of hung halfway down my hips and the top of the belt didn't quite cover the top of my curlies, and my curlies didn't spread that far up my belly as it was.

Dimitri said I'd get a lot of looks, and he was not kidding. The beach was packed, and when I passed, people turned to look and stare. The older folks' eyes popped out so they looked like wrinkled old frogs and they shook their heads disapprovingly so hard you'd think they all had that disease old folks get that makes them always shake their heads. Folks my parents' age disapproved too from the looks I got, but mostly they looked shocked and unable to believe what they were seeing. Girls, my sister's age and older, stopped and checked me out and gave me that double look. You know, the disinterested "there's a fourteen-year-old kid" glance and then the second "OMG, look what he's wearing!" It was the look guys my age and older would give a hot babe in a two-piece. A few girls my age or a couple years older gave me a third look, the out of the corner of the eye look to see just how much they could really see. They could see a lot. The guys all gave me the "crap I wonder where he got those" look. You could see the envy in the eyes of those who were too fat or too skinny or who didn't have much between their legs or were too chicken to wear something like I was wearing. A year ago I would have been too chicken. Crap, before DS I would have been too chicken.

It was embarrassing and I was glad to reach the water and plunge in up to my waist. I stayed in up to my waist much longer than I normally would, and when I looked back at the beach I was sorry we had spread out the blankets so far away. The water wasn't that cold and when I did finally come out I noticed my stuff hadn't shrivelled up like it usually does in the water. At first I was self conscious when I came out, but after the second time and when I thought about it, it was sort of lit being checked out by the girls. I know a lot of guys my age and older would give anything to be checked out like I was being checked out. And who would be popping a boner being checked out by the girls. When I thought that, I did, and fortunately I was in the lake at the time. I had to stay in the water until it went down. There was barely room in the cup for my nuts and my dick limp.

There was something else, something wack. There were some guys, old guys, twenty or more, even Dad's age, who looked at me with this look that told me they were interested too and who popped boners themselves, or at least started to swell, and a few guys my age and a few older teens besides. Faggots and child molesters. They made me turn red too. And pop a boner myself. That was embarrassing, and totally wack. I'm not a faggot. What I was doing with Dimitri was because he was making me, not because I wanted to, not because I was liking it. Well, I liked it, because it made my dick feel good. And I popped a boner because that's what guys my age do. Like I know some of the guys my age were just as embarrassed as I was. It's just something a guy my age can't control.

I felt like I was on display or something. I heard some whispers, rumours that I was some celebrity, a model for Calvin Klein, or Abercrombie and Fitch, or a singer. Some thought I was from Europe where everyone wears skimpy underwear or no clothes at all and that I looked so sophisticated and with it. Their envy was so thick you couldn't help notice it. Now that was lit. By the third day at Skaha I was enjoying it. I even wore the swimsuit around the campground. There wasn't much of a beach, but there was a grassy area between the shore and playground. I lay in the sun and posed. I was supposedly a model after all. The girls were turned on and some came by to chat, those that were fourteen or a year or two older. By the end of the week I had developed what I figured was a European accent. One thing, wearing something like that you use up the sun screen fast.

There were a number of men too who stopped by to talk. I'd roll over on my back and look up at them seductively like you see models in TV ads, or I'd run my fingers along my thighs, thrust out my hips, stuff like that. I'd never do nothing with any of them. They had pot bellies or chests with hair as thick as a dog's and twice as thick as what was on their heads, guys who wouldn't have a chance with women, guys who to my surprise were married and had kids, and some guys that weren't that bad looking if they hadn't been old. Some were definitely on the make and did suggestive stuff too, rubbing their thighs, sticking out their packages, stuff like that. Some struck up conversations, asking about my girlfriends, commenting on my swimsuit, my body, even my hairs peaking out the top. Some made no secret they were horny and would get one off with me. Having them hitting on me was sick, but it was a laugh, and teasing them was a blast. When you saw the look in their eyes that said they finally realized they weren't going to get anywhere with me I pitied them, but my power over them was a thrill. It was surprising there were so many, but like Dimitri told me, the reason you read so much about guys charged with kiddy porn or for assaulting boys or for sexual interference with boys is because there's a natural attraction between men and boys and it's unnatural to be prohibiting it. From the responses I was getting he was right.

Toward the end of our first week I noticed a new guy, sixteen I figured, checking me out at the playground. My brother Jimmy was on the jungle bars and I was on the swings which were along the edge of the playground and part of the playground but not part of it and the swings weren't just for kids if you know what I mean. It had been hot as hell ever since we'd arrived, and that day was no exception. We had spent most of the day in the inflatable boat there at the campground, it being too hot to even go to the beach at Skaha Lake. He was watching two little kids on the playground, a boy who looked a year younger than Jimmy and a girl about six, but he was mostly watching me but pretending he wasn't. He was a bit on the skinny side and definitely no athlete, but he didn't have that bad a body that he turned you off. His shirt was open, and he was wearing shorts. I was wearing my faux leather of course and I put on a show for him, pumping hard as I could, spreading apart my legs, that sort of stuff. He was watching after all. I jumped off the swing while it was still in motion and did a few pushups and stretching exercises, and when our eyes met, I smiled at him. He walked over.

"Hi."

"Hi." I replied.

"Rich," he said, holding out his hand.

"Huh?"

"Richard. But everyone calls me Rich."

"Oh," I said, taking his hand. Thank God it wasn't sweaty. "Justin. Everyone calls me Justin."

He laughed. He was being polite. It wasn't that funny. We stood there trying to be casual and feeling uncomfortable as hell. "Nice campground."

"Yeah." I ran my hand along my thigh slowly, running a finger along the crevice between my leg and my groin. "Your first time?" "Uh-huh?" I wondered if he thought what I had wanted him to think.

"Your first time here?"

"Oh, yeah. We're from Saskatchewan. Swift Current."

"Flat out there."

"Yeah. Flat as a pancake."

"Or a ten-year-old girl's chest."

"Ha. Yeah." It wasn't that funny but he laughed like it was.

"You been camping long?"

"Almost two weeks. You?"

"A week and a half. This is our fifth day here."

"Cool." He glanced down at my crotch and then quickly away. When he looked up he saw me looking at him and he started to turn red. "Hot swimsuit. I've never seen nothin' like it. Is that leather?"

"Faux leather. A gift. From my girl."

"Oh yeah? Way cool." He paused, thinking. "You like camping?"

"Oh sure, a lot. But I miss my girl, you know?"

"Oh yeah."

"You got a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, sure," he said. That was a lie. You can tell from the look in their eyes, and the way they look away or purposefully make eye contact with you as if to say 'see I'm not lying.' Dimitri had told me that. "I like camping too, but like you said, it's hard to be away from your girlfriend so long."

"How long is it?"

"Almost two weeks," he repeated.

"I mean when it's hard."

He laughed. Too loud, too false. He was nervous. "Thirteen centimetres."

"Nice."

"You?"

"Eleven."

"Cool."

"And how hard does it get?"

"Rock hard," he said with a grin.

"What makes it worse camping is there is nowhere private where a guy can, you know, take off the pressure when he has to."

"Ah, yeah, that's true."

"Like here, there's only one stall. Can't have a good jerk when there's guys standing in line to take a shit. And as for the showers, you can't really go at it without the guy in the next shower hearing, and it's not much fun if you can't go at it."

"Yeah," he agreed. He looked at my crotch again, unable to resist the temptation, and I closed my eyes and thrust it out and stretched and yawned like I was tired so he could have a good look. "You… ah… go at it often?"

"Naw, my girl usually takes care of that problem."

"Oh. Yeah. Mine too." Another lie. A big one.

"But it's been a week and a half. I've built up a real nut full."

"Yeah. Me too." Truth.

"You wanna do it?"

"Ah, where?" he asked, looking around. "Like you said, there's no place private."

"There's bushes along the road as you come down the hill from the highway. Nobody goes up there, and especially in this fucking heat." He glanced over at the playground. Oh yeah, he wants to. "Your brother?"

"Yeah."

"You gotta watch him?"

"Ah, yeah."

"That sucks. Two weeks, eh? That's a long time to not do it."

"It is."

"We won't be gone long." I looked at my watch. "It's six. We won't be eating at least for another hour in this heat."

"Nor will we."

"Now you've mentioned it, I'm hurting real bad," I said, grabbing my crotch. "It won't take me long to shoot one off when I gotta shoot this bad. Looks like he's having fun. We can be back in no time, before he even knows you're gone."

He looked at his brother. He really wanted it.

"Thirteen centimetres eh? That would be lit to see."

"All right. Give me a moment to tell him to stay put til I get back."

"Cool."

Chapter 12
A Coming of Age Part 2

Justin forces the boy he has enticed in his campground and the boy's 8 yo brother to join him in anal sex. Later as he thinks about what he has done and how he had felt he begins to worry and to feel guilty, about what he just did and what he has been doing with Dimitri, but he cannot deny that he also found pleasure in it and is perplexed and confused about what is happening.

Characters: Rich (16yo), brother Niles (8yo)

As I watched Rich talking to his brother and as we walked up the road leading to the campground my mind was racing. What the crap was I doing? Sure, I was horny, but not that horny I needed to sneak off in the bush and jerk one off. And with a guy. I was no fag. But it had been a week and a half, and back home I was getting off regularly every Thursday and Sunday with Dimitri, once or twice each day. I'd missed three tutoring sessions now being on holiday, yesterday having been the third, and we'd skipped three lessons the end of June so actually the last time I'd gotten one off was Prom night. That's twelve loads I would have normally shot. That's a lot! So, actually, when you think about it, there was good reason I was feeling how I was feeling and why I'd done what I had done.

The playground was in the middle of the campground so we probably had to pass forty or fifty campsites on each side of the road to the entrance and the road curving up to the highway was steep. I'd actually never gone to where we were going but from the drive down it looked like a place where a guy could have some privacy. The trees turned out to be sparser than I had thought but at least I was right about there being nobody around in this heat. By the time we got to a spot we figured was safe our shirts were soaked with sweat and sticking to our backs. I took mine off and spread it on the ground to sit on. It was wet with sweat but the grass was dry and prickly. He did the same, and as I stepped out of my swimsuit he pushed his shorts and his underwear down. He was uncut, like me. I started to fiddle with mine and he did the same with his.

"What do you usually think about when you do it?" he asked.

"My girl. Or other girls I'd like to screw. You?"

"Yeah. The same. How old are you anyway?"

"Fourteen. You?"

"Sixteen. Last month."

"You ever jack off with a guy before?"

"Yeah," he said hesitantly. "A few times. You know, like when you're not getting it from your girl. Like when she's not around, or when she's having her period and stuff." Lie. We were both stiff. I hadn't realized until then just how badly I'd missed getting one off.

"You ever try doing another guy's?"

"No. You?"

"Sure. Wanna do each other?"

He hesitated and I could tell he was curious but wasn't keen on the idea. "Sure," he finally said.

We were sitting side by side. He reached over and wrapped his fingers about mine and I reached over with my left hand to do his. It was cool, but it was awkward using my left instead of my right hand, and he was jerking mine too fast and rough. His only purpose was to get off as fast as possible, which is a lousy purpose. It hurt more than it was pleasant, and he was sure to achieve his goal. Going that fast I'd be shooting before I had a chance to enjoy being hard. After messing with Dimitri this was wack.

"This is boring," I said, letting go of his.

"Yeah," he agreed as he released mine. Lie. We sat there with our boners sticking up between our legs.

"Your girl ever give you a blow job?" I asked.

"No. Yours?"

"Sure. Like when she's having her period or whatever and I can't use her cunt," I said, using his lie.

"What's it like?" he asked, swallowing my bull shit.

"Awesome. Not as good as fucking of course, but awesome. She's really good at it."

"Lucky dog."

"Here, I'll show you."

Before he had a chance to say anything I shuffled back, bent over, and took his stiff prick in my mouth. It was about thirteen centimetres like he said, and about two fingers thick, a lot smaller than Dimitri's. I went down on it easy, right to his hairs. I'd done dozens of bananas by then-the clerk at the grocery store was starting to recognize me when I came in-and could go about half way down, and bananas are a lot thicker. As I worked my lips up and down his shaft, I pushed his skin back and pulled it back up with my lips just like Dimitri did me. Use to Dimitri's cut cock, I found it different to do a guy with a skin and I tried to recall how Dimitri had done me. Dimitri would be proud of me. Rich's chest was starting to heave in and out and his cock was throbbing and he was starting to squirm. I stopped with my lips just below his bulb and I clamped them down tight and began to count, just like Dimitri had taught me.

"So, what do you think?" I asked as I sat up after a count of twenty.

"Fuck! I've never felt anything like that. It was awesome." Now he was telling the truth. "Your girl… she… go all the way with you?"

"Oh yeah. She loves drinking my cum."

"Oh man, that must be fucking hot. Have you… would you-."

I had him. I had him good! I knew what he was trying to ask. Every guy is a bit of a fag. Some are just bigger bits than others. That's what Dimitri says. "Sure," I said. "Go ahead."

I leaned back and spread my legs, my prick sticking up invitingly. He got this dazed, confused look on his face. I knew that was not what he was asking. He wanted me to go all the way on him. He still did, badly. Who wouldn't with his cock sticking up in the air and aching to go off? That's what he wanted, but he couldn't ask me to do that without at least trying mine, not really. I knew that when I'd told him to go ahead. I could see his mind spinning as he tried to work this out, to get me to go all the way with him without having to suck mine. His struggle was so obvious it was funny in a way. Did he want to cum bad enough to take my dick in his mouth? From the look in his eyes he didn't.

"Go ahead. I done yours," I said using the accusing tone I'd seen Dimitri use. Guys have this sense of being fair even if they don't want to do something Dimitri says. "Don't be chicken." Nobody wants to be thought of as being a chicken. I've seen guys do some pretty stupid and some pretty dangerous stuff when they've been challenged as being chicken. It works. It worked with Rich. He stretched out and supporting himself on his forearms, he lowered his head and hesitantly and reluctantly took my dick in his mouth.

"Just take the head in to begin with," I instructed, "and suck. You can breathe in and out your nose and still keep the suction up." We were at a critical point. I had to make it easy for him. If it was too difficult he'd quit. I don't know how I knew that. It just made sense. He did as I'd told him. Fuck it felt good having my dickhead inside his hot, wet, sucking mouth. I'd sucked cock ten times more often than I'd been sucked and it was great being on the receiving end. "Swallow your spit and then slide your lips further down my dink, just a little way, and then slide them back up to the bulb, like I'd done you." I added the last part to remind him he was only doing what had been done to him. Fair's fair. He did, ever so slowly and ever so slightly. It was fleekin! "Again." He did. "When you are used to it, go a little further down. And keep sucking." He went further down, and kept on sucking. I closed my eyes and stretched my head back. Fuck it felt good.

Four months ago I thought a guy sucking my dick was sick. Before DS. Now I think it is awesome. No, it is beautiful. I opened my eyes a crack and looked down at him, half laying there on his shirt and supporting himself on his elbow and his left hand, his eyes closed as he concentrated and fought back the impulse to gag, his cheeks sunk in as he sucked on my stiff, throbbing pecker. He barely had half of it in his mouth, but he was doing it. The fucker was sucking cock for the first time! My cock. I could imagine what was going on in his mind. I know what had gone on in mine the first time I sucked cock. Spotting my phone I slowly and carefully reached for it and managed to slip it out of my shirt pocket. I flicked it open and took several pics. He was concentrating too hard to notice.

"Let's sixty-nine," I said as I began to twist around. He slipped his lips back up off my cock. I knew what he was thinking and what he was about to say. I had to move fast. "Go ahead, keep sucking," I said as I lay down on my side facing him but in the opposite direction. "I'll catch you back up." This was the telling point. If he wanted this bad enough he'd begin sucking me again. If there was any fag in him at all, he would. What I had going for me was that everyone likes getting their cock sucked off, and everyone has a little fag in them. He knew how good it felt. He'd had it done to him. I slipped my mouth over his cock and resumed where I had left off to remind him. He hesitated. I pushed his skin back with my lips and I ran my tongue along the rim of his knob slowly. He tensed with the pleasure pulsating through his swollen flesh. I licked again and then stopped. Stoped sucking, stopped moving my lips, stopped licking, waiting for him. I felt him slip his lips back about my cock. Yes!

"When you're gonna shoot tap my ass like this so I know to start swallowing," I said, reaching around and tapping his butt, "and I'll do the same when I'm going to cum."

Before he could object to my plan or suggest an alternative, I slipped my lips over his stiff cock and right down to the base and began to suck hard. A second later I felt the suction on my knob resume and his lips went down a bit further. Yes! He wanted it. He wanted it fucking bad. And so did I. Forgetting about coaching him and encouraging him, I closed my eyes and sucked on his pecker and eased my lips up and down it, from his knob to his hairs. I concentrated on the unique taste of his pecker, the nutty scent of his sweaty balls, the desperate throbbing of his stiff bone. I concentrated on the pleasure of having his hot spit-filled mouth wrapped about my cock and sucking on it like a baby sucking tit. I concentrated on the unique pleasure rippling through my cock, I concentrated on my cock, rock hard and throbbing, and the tingling irritation of the rim of my knob, and the building pressure in my loins.

I concentrated on the fact that this sixteen-year-old guy I had just met was sucking cock for the first time in his life, and on the fact that I was the one who'd introduced him to this perverted pleasure, an experience he would never forget for the rest of his fucking life. That gave me a rush even greater than the rush of having my cock sucked. He was actually sucking cock for the first time in his life! Any moment now and for the first time in his life he'd be shooting his stuff in another guy's mouth. His first sexual experience with another person, and that other person was a guy, not a girl! How fleekin is that!

I don't know how he was feeling but I know how I'd felt the first time I'd sucked off Dimitri: perverted, disbelieving, filthy, embarrassed, revolted. I knew too how it had felt getting my first blow job and how unbelievable and undescribable that pleasure had felt. I felt a tap on my butt. Actually it was more like a slap, and I felt that telltale tremor in the vein that runs under a guy's cock. I quickly slipped my lips up so I just had his knob in my mouth and I had no sooner done so than he began to spurt. He really did have two weeks of nut juice saved up because he shot hard and he shot repeatedly, filling my mouth with his creamy load. He grunted and gasped and jerked as he shot. It was like sucking the cock of a bucking bull. Now that is an image! As my mouth filled with his thick, creamy shot, I tapped his butt, and when he didn't ease his lips back up my cock I drew my hips back so I could fill his mouth as he was filling mine. Having him gagging and choking because he didn't have the practice I had would ruin the experience. I shot off twelve loads worth of cum into his mouth, squirt after beautiful, fucking fleekin squirt. It was lit.

When we got back to the campsite supper was ready. Mom sent me to washup but I didn't. I wanted to smell his dick on my fingers. I wanted the taste of his cum in my mouth. The dick and cum of the first guy I'd ever seduced. My first conquest. I was high.

"Is there something wrong with the corn?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're sniffing it."

"Oh, no. It's just it smells so good."

"That's from eating our meals outdoors," Dad observed.

"And holding a dick first," I thought secretly. "This a different brand of butter?"

"No," said Mom.

"Tastes especially… creamy," I observed. I thought about squirting a load all over an ear and then eating it. That would be wicked. I popped a boner. Not a good idea when you are wearing skimpy low rise swim trunks.

I went to the playground after supper but Rich and his kid brother weren't there. I biked around the campground but they must have been in their trailer cuz I didn't see them. Then I remembered they were from Saskatchewan and I made another circuit. There were three units with Saskatchewan plates but they weren't outside any of them. When I woke up the next morning, I spotted Rich on the road looking over at our site, but by the time I got up he had gone. I went to the can and when I came out of the stall he was there. An old guy came in and went into the stall.

"Hi," I said as I went to wash my hands.

"Hi."

"You sleep well last night?"

"Oh yeah. Especially good," he said with a sigh. Truth. He knew why I had asked. "What you doing today?"

"I dunno. I think we're going to Skaha beach again." He looked disappointed. "Why?" I asked innocently.

"No reason. I just thought if you weren't doing anything we might hang out."

"Us or our dinks?"

He stifled a laugh and turned red as he looked over at the stall. I stared at him. It was a very poor Dimitri stare.

"Both," he whispered with a grin.

"So you liked yesterday."

"Yeah. I did."

"Told ya you would." He looked at the stall and shuffled from foot to foot. The guy was taking a long time in there. "We'll probably be back at six and eat at seven again. We could go to our private spot when we get back."

"That would be cool. Or I guess I should say hot," he said with a smile.

I chuckled. A thought struck me. A wicked thought. "You know, we could do something even hotter than blow jobs."

He glanced over at the stall and looked like he was going to run if the door opened. I'd spoken in a normal voice on purpose."Yeah?" he asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, we could screw."

He glanced at the stall again. I dried my hands in the air dryer and we stepped outside. He glanced around and stepped closer. "Screw?" he whispered.

"Oh yeah. Screwing is a lot better than getting sucked."

"You know a girl?"

"No. But you can screw without needing a girl." He gave me a confused look. I stepped in front of him and wiggled my butt.

"You're kidding."

"Actually it's better than a pussy. It's tighter. And you don't have to wear a safe so you don't knock your partner up. You'll see. You'll like getting one off that way even better."

He didn't say anything. He was considering it! Everyone has a little fag inside. "You've really done it?" he whispered.

"Lots of times. Meet you at six?" I asked as we arrived at my campsite. The look on his face told me he was close, but not quite. "Oh, by the way, I almost forgot." I took out my phone and showed him the picture of him sucking me. "You got Internet? I can send you a copy."

His yes grew wide and his jaw dropped. "No. That's okay."

"If I posted it on the net, say my Facebook, you think any of your friends in Swift Current might come across it and recognize you?"

"No! Don't post it."

"You know, if my dad were to accidentally find it I bet he'd like to show your dad. What do you think your dad would do?"

"You should delete it."

"Six?"

"Yeah. Okay."

I started to step toward the trailer and suddenly turned around. "You know, I got a different idea what we could do." You could see the relief on his face. "Bring your brother. Instead of me, we can both do him." His relief was short-lived.

"He's a kid!"

"Kids are even better. Nice and tender, and extra tight. See you at six."

I turned and walked to the trailer before he could say no. Crap, the look on his face! It was priceless. I popped a boner before I reached the trailer. We headed to Skaha later in the morning as I knew we would. There would have been time for Rich and me to have gone and gotten off before we left for Skaha, but making him wait was even better. He wouldn't be able to think about anything else all day, wanting it, not wanting it, aching to get off, disgusted with himself. I know.

The day was the same as the day before, except I really strutted my stuff. If I wanted to and had a place I bet I could have gotten laid by half a dozen girls. Well, into some real heavy groping anyway. And there were several older teen girls and some young guys, usually pairs and probably fag couples, that were definitely interested and gave all sorts of hints, but I played innocent. I really wasn't that interested, and besides, I already had plans. It was a blast, and I figured there was going to be a lot of wanking and finger fucking that night with thoughts of the celebrity from Europe with the faux leather swim suit. In between flirting and swimming, I thought about what I'd said and done that morning. That was not like me. None of it. Why had I teased Rich on? That was cruel. What made me think of screwing? I'm no fag. And why his brother? I'm no perverted boylover. And why the fuck did it give me such a thrill? I know what it is like to be forced to do something, and Rich clearly didn't want to do it. It made no sense. None of it. We arrived back at quarter to six and I ran to the can. Six came and went, six five, and then six ten. So he'd chickened out. I wasn't surprised, but I was disappointed. And angry. At him. And at me. And then Rich showed up, with his kid brother. I told Mom I was going for a walk around the campsite and she said supper would probably be late, closer to seven-thirty, and I said that was perfect.

"About… what we talked about," Rich began as we headed for the entrance. I walked fast. I wanted as much time messing around as I could. Rich's brother had to run to keep up. "I was thinking. We could just do what we did yesterday. Just you and me. That would be all right."

"Not the three of us?"

"No, just you and me. Niles needn't come along."

"I bet he'd like it. Doing what we did. You certainly did. You'd think it was a cream sickle you were sucking the way you went at it. It did cream." He didn't laugh.

"Really, let's just the two of us."

"Suck or screw?"

"Whichever you want," he said, puckering up his face and shaking his head as he nodded toward his brother, signalling me to shut up.

"Screw? We gonna go meet girls?" Niles asked. From the look on his face he wasn't keen on that idea.

"Which would you rather do, Niles? Have one of us suck your dink, or stick your dink up either of our asses?"

Rich was about to die. He opened his mouth and shut it again. Nothing would come out. "Neither," Niles said emphatically, wrinkling up his face.

"Your brother thought sucking dick would be yucky, but he went down on mine like it was a cream sickle, and came around this morning asking for more." We arrived at the registration booth and I flicked open my phone and showed Niles the picture. His eyes popped out and his jaw dropped. Rich was beet red, and it wasn't just from the fast pace of our walk. We started up the hill. Rich was too puffed to talk, and Niles too shocked. We turned off to our spot. "If we spread our shirts and your shorts out and overlap them we should avoid any prickles. I took off my shirt and spread it out. Of course I was wearing my swimsuit/underwear and I stepped out of it so I was just wearing my socks and shoes.

"Just you and me," Rich said. "Niles go back to the campsite. And don't say nothing to nobody."

"You gonna suck his dink again?"

"Don't you never mind. Just go!" Rich ordered. One thing I knew from experience: you never ordered your younger brother around, especially in front of another guy, not unless you actually want him to do the opposite of what you just told him to do. I'm sure that was not Rich's intent. Niles looked up at me. He was eight. He was curious. And he wasn't about to be ordered about by his older brother.

"Yesterday I showed your brother how to suck dink and we sucked each other's. He liked it, a lot. I told him today I'd show him something that feels even better, screwing each other. Two guys can have just as much fun as a guy can with a girl, even more fun actually. You like girls Niles?"

"Not really," he said, wrinkling up his nose as I knew he would. Nobody who is eight likes girls.

"But you like guys."

"Not that way," Rich interrupted before he could speak. "He's just a kid!" Wrong thing to say! Rich didn't know how to deal with kid brothers, or I really had him rattled. I guessed it was the latter.

"I'm not a kid," Niles retorted, as I knew he would.

"If your brother doesn't want to, maybe I can just show you, and your brother can go back to the campsite. You like to fiddle with your dink?"

"You're not supposed to."

"So adults say. But do you like it?"

"Yeah," he said with a bit of smile and a bit of a blush.

"Justin, really! He's only eight."

"Well, having someone suck your cock feels way better that you fiddling with it, as your brother can tell you," I said, ignoring Rich, "and as you saw in the picture. And sticking your dink up someone's ass feels even better yet, and even better than doing it with a girl. I know, and I can prove it." He was tempted, really tempted. A secret that older guys did. And that adults didn't want you to know or do. And something his older brother was chickening out on.

"No. Com'on Niles. We're leaving."

"Tell you what, I'll show you how it's done, and anytime you want to stop and go back to your campsite you can. I promise. Just like I promised your brother yesterday." I don't know if I'd really told Rich that, but I would have if I had needed to. Niles was uncertain, but he began to unbutton his shirt. "Same for you if you want to stay," I said, looking at Rich.

"Niles, we really should go."

"I want to stay. I can leave anytime I want to?" he asked, looking at me.

"Scouts' honour." That didn't matter. I've never been a scout.

Rich didn't want to continue, but he'd gotten his kid brother involved and felt honour bound to stay and protect him. That I had to give him credit for, but it was a weakness, and if you want to remain in control, you don't reveal your weaknesses. Dimitri had shown me that. The two slowly stripped down to their socks, having to remove their shoes to take off their shorts. Rich was embarrassed as hell, Niles more self-conscious than he was embarrassed. Rich looked everyway but at his brother or me. At our shirts spread on the ground, at the trail we'd entered on, at the bushes. Niles kept glancing at my crotch, and over at his brother's. Rich was wearing boxers, same as yesterday. Niles was wearing briefs. He was uncut like his brother. I snapped their pictures, for my personal collection I told them.

"No photos. No deal if you're going to take pictures."

Rich still thought he had some control over what was happening and was going to happen to him and his brother. Ignoring him, I stepped over to Niles and squatting down I took his little noodle between my thumb and first two fingers, held it up, and slipped my lips over it. Christ it was so small and soft. Mine must have felt the same way at his age but I don't remember it. I sucked on it and slipped my lips up and down the shaft for a good minute, until I felt it beginning to swell. "Go ahead and do me like you did me yesterday," I said to Rich. Having done it yesterday, he knew it was nowhere near as bad as you would expect. He also had to be thinking that if he cooperated with me perhaps there was still a chance to get his brother uninvolved. So he sat down and bent over and took my cock in his mouth.

Niles just stood there watching me sucking on his noodle and slipping my lips up and down it, and watching his brother slipping his lips around my cock and going down on it also. I started getting hard, more from sucking Niles than from being sucked by Rich. I know guys would say taking a guy's dick in your mouth is sick, but getting another guy hard and making his dick throb and itch, knowing the pleasure you're giving him, is a rush. And when the other guy is young and innocent like Niles, it is even more of a rush I discovered. This was even better than yesterday. Rich was getting hard too, and nobody was doing nothing with his dick, so sucking dick was turning him on too. As Dimitri said over and over, there is some fag in all of us and the only difference is how much. Rich apparently has a lot.

I was stiff in no time and so was Niles. Despite all his objections and his embarrassment sucking my cock in front of his kid brother, Rich was quickly swelling too. I kept sucking his kid brother and slipping my lips up and down his noodle, but after I pushed his skin off his knob with my lips I ran my tongue around his exposed little plum, causing him to jerk and then to squirm. The arousal prickling through his swollen flesh he had to be feeling for the first time, and I was the cause. That was lit! I grabbed my phone and snapped a selfie of the three of us. Rich didn't say anything. He couldn't. He had my cock in his mouth, and he knew by then that I would just ignore him.

"Now, didn't that feel good?" Niles nodded, his cheeks flushed. His dick nodded too, which I pointed out and made him giggle. "And you can see how much your big brother loves to suck cock. His got hard all on its own without nobody doing nothing to it." It had of course and Rich blushed an even deeper red and his cock wagged. "See, his dink agrees." Niles giggled again. Rich got redder. He couldn't say anything. He knew it was the truth.

"Now, you want me to show you how good it feels to have your dink up my ass?"

He'd liked getting sucked, but from the look on his face, he was not so certain about sticking his dick up a guy's stink hole. Before he could respond or I could say anything further, Rich said, "No. You said you'd show me." I had figured he'd speak up to save his brother. I had thought it all out on the drive to Skaha Lake and back, the order we would do this in and what I would have to say to make it happen. So far it was going exactly as according to plan. That should not have been a surprise. I had watched the master at work and based my plan on what he would do.

"Great," I said. Plucking out a couple sheets of toilet paper I'd stuffed in my shirt pocket in the can, I spread my legs, squatted and stuffed them up my hole, twisted them, and drew them back out. There was next to nothing on the paper. I'd cleaned myself out in the can. I took the tube of Vaseline I'd snuck out of our medicine kit and dabbed a bit on my finger and stuck my finger in my hole, just enough to lube inside. I smeared a larger dab on Rich's knob and as I got down on my elbows and knees my heart started beating faster. Having a guy inside you is awesome, and when it is his first time is even more so. To tell the truth, if I have a choice, I much prefer being the one getting fucked than the one doing the fucking. I figured doggy style would be easiest though I liked it best face to face. I told Rich to kneel down behind me between my legs and to put the tip of his dick in my hole, and I told Niles to kneel beside us and grab his brother's dick and guide it to my anus. They did.

It being Rich's first time, it took several tries. The first time his cock was too high and the second time too low and the third time it bent. I told his kid brother to grasp it just below the bulb so it wouldn't bend and to guide it to my hole again. Once I felt it against my hole I eased back, wedging it in. I had lots of practice and eased my hips back slowly and I felt it stretching open my anus. I told Rich to press his hips forward slowly, and as he felt my asshole slip up along his glans and over, he knew he was in. I told him to sink it in until he was pressing against my butt, and then to draw it back out, but not all the way. His dick was nowhere as big as Dimitri's, but it felt good feeling it sinking up my asshole. I concentrated on the feeling as Rich began pumping his hips to and fro, driving his cock in and out of my body. Sticking your dick up a guy's asshole sounds gross, but it feels surprisingly good and Rich was horny. I had Niles take our picture. This was all working to plan. Rich was going pretty fast but I didn't slow him down. This was only the beginning and the best part was still to come. He was soon spurting up my ass. When he pulled his cock out, I asked him if that wasn't even better than fucking his girl.

"Yeah… yeah, it was. Way better." Liar. He looked down at his cock slick with his cum and Vaseline and my ass slime. Niles looked like he was about to say "what girl?"

"Okay, your turn," I said, looking at Niles.

"Do me," Rich said, thinking I meant it was Niles' turn to get fucked and that I was going to do him, and again stepping in to spare his brother. That was exactly what I had hoped he'd do.

"On your elbows and knees then, like I was," I instructed. Rich did as I said, assuming I was going to do him and gallantly sacrificing himself for his brother, and I squatted down and stuffed a couple sheets of toilet paper up his hole and twisted it and pulled it back out. The paper was a bit browner than mine had been but the dick that was going to penetrate him was not going that deep, and getting a bit of his brother's shit on it was hot in a way. I greased his anus with Vaseline, just the entry as his brother's dick was not going to be going very deep. Niles was kneeling beside us and still stiff and to his surprise I suddenly reached over and wiped my fingers off on his dink. Like his brother, he had thought I was going to do Rich.

"This is going to be hot, getting screwed by your brother."

"Hey, wait! Wait a minute! Not Niles. I meant you do it to me."

I had the kid's noodle in position already and motioned for him to press his hips forward. His dink was about the size of my little finger and slipped right in. "Hey!" shouted Rich. I motioned for Niles to pull back and it slipped right back out when he did, but we got it right back in again. I knelt there while he pumped his hips to and fro a couple times and then I shuffled back. It just took a couple tries for him to know how far to pull back, and by then it was pointless for Rich to stop him. His brother was doing him. Watching Niles fucking his brother was too wicked. Just eight years old and he had his dink up his sixteen-year-old brother's ass. He pumped his hips to and fro quickly just as his brother had done me, working his dink in and out of his brother's hole. He'd never had a boner this long in his life, and he'd never had the knob rubbed for so long. It felt good, and he needed no encouragement to keep doing it. I picked up my phone and took their picture. Sweat began to trickle down his back and his sides and down his forehead and into his eyes. I mopped his forehead with his briefs, and then wrapped them about his head like a sweat band and took another picture. His little balls were swollen up and hardly bigger than a walnut. In fact they looked like a walnut. He was gasping and grunting.

"I think I'd better stop," he gasped.

"Keep doing it. Just a bit longer."

"I can't. I gotta pee."

And then he was jerking and twisting like he'd stuck his dink in an electric outlet, and that was how it probably felt. The kid was having his first ever orgasm, up his sixteen-year-old brother's ass! He gasped and cried out and shivered. He tossed his head back, his eyes clenched, his mouth wide open. I snapped a couple more pictures. The little fucker rammed his crotch against his brother's butt harder and harder, trying to get his dink in more but it was totally in already. He was gasping and panting so hard he couldn't talk. He could hardly breathe.

"Oh!" He gasped for air. "Oh! Oh! Ahhhh," he groaned as if in pain. He was, in beautiful, sweet pain like he had never before felt. Seeing him and hearing him was such a rush I almost shot a load right there. I had never understood what was so great about having sex with a kid, but now I knew. The novelty, the mystery, the excitement of that first orgasm, watching it, being part of it, what a rush! He finally pulled his dick out.

"So, was I right? Did it feel good?"

He just sat back on his haunches and huffed for breath, unable to speak. I took the last of the toilet paper out of my pocket and bent him over so he was in the doggy position. I stuffed the paper up his ass and twisted and pulled it out. I know that had to have felt weird, but he was too overcome by his first orgasm for it to really register. The tissue was browner than with myself or Rich, but I had no more paper and I could not wait and nor could he. I coated my pointer finger with Vaseline and stuck my finger up his ass right up to the last knuckle. He was still gasping and whimpering and he stiffened as he suddenly realized there was something up his bum. I pulled my finger out and didn't wait to lube my cock. I didn't want to give him a chance to object, nor his brother, who was still recovering from having been fucked by his eight-year-old brother.

I wanted to get a load off, but more important, I didn't want feeling my cock up his ass to be an anticlimax to feeling my finger up there. I wanted his consciousness of his first penetration to be of my cock entering him, not my finger.

He was tight and I was big, but I'd used a lot of Vaseline to grease up his anus, and I had a lot of experience getting my own ass fucked. I grasped his hips tight and pressed forward. His hips seemed so narrow. My knob stretched open his anus. I went slow, extra slow. I remembered my first penetration. I wanted him to remember his. I wanted him to cherish it. Even if he was never fucked again, I wanted this time, his first time, to be an experience he would remember forever, an experience he would think about when he got horny and wanked himself off, an experience he could relive over and over. He was starting to breathe more regularly. I pushed forward another fraction, stretching his tender buttonhole open wider. He was aware now there was a cock pressing at his door. I inhaled deeply and pressed forward another fraction. His anus stretched open a little on its own. He was pushing out instinctively. Yes! I pushed also and my knob popped inside and his anus snapped closed behind it, trapping it in his hot, tight rectum.

I paused, relishing the feeling, and giving him time to enjoy feeling his tender butthole stuffed with my bulb. And then I ever so slowly pushed forward, easing my pecker ever so slowly up his tender, virgin hole. I remembered shoving my cock up Cory's asshole and how delightful it had been fucking the bastard, sticking my cock up his ass for the first time, and the rush it gave me. That was nothing compared to now. Cory had been a virgin and so was Niles, and I had taken his prune just as I was now taking Niles's, but taking the prune of this sweet, innocent, tender eight-year-old boy was as different as night is different from day. Penetrating Cory had been revenge. Penetrating Niles was for pleasure, my pleasure, and his. I hadn't given a fuck if Cory was feeling any pleasure, but for Niles to feel pleasure was important. I went slowly, delighting in every millimetre of penetration. His rectum was so fleetin hot, so moist. I pictured my stiff, aching pecker sinking into a juicy, fleshy plum. Deeper and deeper, millimetre by millimetre, I sank my aching, swollen prick up his asshole until finally my coarse hairs were pressing against the boy's soft, smooth bum and the tip of my cock was buried eleven centimetres up his body, surrounded by hot, throbbing, moist, velvet-smooth flesh.

Gasping for breath, I paused and sighed with the pleasure of his penetration as I committed it to memory just as I'm sure at that moment eight-year-old Niles was committing his first ever penetration to memory also. I only hope feeling my hot, thick bone throbbing up his rectum felt as good for him as it was feeling for me. He was gasping for breath also and the two of us were sweating like pigs in the heat of that July afternoon. I could smell his little boy sweat and the pungent sweat of my armpits, the musky scent of my ball sweat, and the undescribable sweat of his little nuts still coiled up like a walnut. I reached under him and found his little cocklet was still stiff, and as I slipped my fingers about it he quivered and arched his back, causing his rump to slide up my rigid pecker. He immediately pushed back. The little fucker was riding my cock! He was delighting so much in having my pecker up his ass he could not wait for me to begin fucking him!

Grasping his small, compact butt tightly, I drew my hips back, easing my cock out of his body until my knob was at his gate, and then I eased my cock back up, stuffing his rectum once again with my shit-packer. Back and forth, in and out, I thrust my cock, slowly, wanting to enjoy every square centimetre of tingling nerve endings when my cock was buried up his little shit hole, and every tingle of every nerve as I withdrew. My heart pounded in time with the throbbing of my pecker, and his flesh pulsated in time with my throbbing member. My knob burned and itched as if it had been thrust into a bush of stinging nettle, and so sweet was that pain that I thrust my tender, sensitive member repeatedly into the nettle patch. Never had my knob burned so intensely, so pleasantly.

I paused and my little partner continued to thrust his hips to and fro, riding my throbbing cock so eager he was to continue the pleasure. I tightened my grip on his smooth buttocks to stop him so I could enjoy the pleasure all the longer, and I whispered for him to concentrate also. And then, when our passions subsided, I began to fuck him again, and again the two of us delighted in the growing pleasure as we approached that ultimate peak a second time. As we did, I began to pump faster and the two of us began to gasp and grunt and he began to buck like a wild horse and I rode him, the two of us joined by my eleven centimetres of throbbing bone. I felt the twang in my loins and I arched my back and sank my pecker up his ass until my hairs were pressed against his smooth butt and I shuddered as my jizm raced up the core of my cock and spurted out the tip, spurting even deeper up his shit hole than my prick could penetrate. Spurt after spurt shot out of the burning opening and I shuddered and so did he as he felt my hot, thick slime filling the depths of his rectum and my sperm penetrating his flesh in search of an egg they would never find.

This is what fucking a boy is all about. This is what Dimitri has been telling me over and over since we had first met. How I was feeling at that moment with my cock throbbing out my life juice up the ass of this eight-year-old boy I had just met was how he felt each time he throbbed out his cum up my ass. I understood at that moment the root of our relationship, the root of the relationship between every boylover and boy. I nodded to Rich, who was sitting there staring at us, to take our picture. He was too dazed, or too cowed, to refuse.

We didn't talk as we got dressed and made our way back down to the campground. For myself I was too awed to speak, and no words could adequately express my feelings at that moment. For Rich, I suspect, his head was a jumble of conflicting emotions, just as mine had been the first time I had been fucked, and the first time I had sunk my prick up the ass of another boy. And for Niles, how did an eight-year-old boy feel about having just fucked his sixteen-year-old brother up the ass, and how did he feel walking back to his campsite with the memory of a guy's prick shoved up his ass and with his rectum filled with that guy's hot, fresh cum?

"You'd better stay out of the sun tomorrow," Mom said, interrupting my thoughts. We had finished eating and I couldn't tell you what I had eaten. "Your face is all flushed."

"And you stink of sweat," added my kid brother.

I also stank of sex and eight-year-old boy sweat and fresh, creamy cum.

"We're all going to need a good shower before we go to bed."

I went to the showers, but I didn't shower. My hair was itchy and greasy and I stood outside the shower and stuck my head in and washed it, but that was all. I wanted to keep the rest of the smells. I wanted to delight in them and fall asleep breathing them and to dream about them. That was how my night began as I lay there on top of the sheets and thought about that session in the woods. As I thought about it, the rush of the experience faded. I slowly realized what I had done, and how it had felt. What had I done? What had I become? What was Rich thinking tonight? He hadn't wanted to do this in the first place, and he didn't want to do it with his little brother. I had forced him to do it. I had threatened him with the picture I had taken of him. I had bullied him. Me, Justin Bromley, a bully. And Niles. He had no idea what he was getting into. He was only eight. He had blind faith and trust in his older brother, and I'd used that trust and his natural curiosity and made him do something unnatural. And illegal. God. Suppose they went to their father? When I fell asleep it was not the blissful sleep I had expected. I twisted and turned until my kid brother complained so loudly Mom got up and felt my forehead and asked if I was all right.

It was decided to stay at the campsite and in the shade the next day. Right after breakfast I headed over to the three sites that had Saskatchewan plates. One site was occupied by an elderly couple and the second by a young family with a baby. The third was vacant. They had left. My immediate response was sadness. I was hoping we'd be able to talk, that I'd find out they had been as excited as I had been yesterday and thankful I had shown them what I had. I'd been hoping that they had felt just as I had and wanted to have a repeat performance. I went back to the campsite and moped. And, as I moped, I began to worry. Suppose they had not liked it? Suppose they had told? Suppose their mom noticed how flushed they were, or their dad smelled cum on them? Suppose at this moment they were at a police station reporting me. Each time a car approached I jerked up and looked.

Again I thought about what I had done. I had coerced Rich by threatening him, and I had used Niles's innocence to entice him. This was luring and sexual interference and invitation for touching and all the others things Dimitri said the police wanted to charge him with, perverted things. Perhaps even rape. I wasn't sick, but I worried myself sick. I couldn't eat a bite of lunch. I went down to the playground but the sight and sound of all the kids made me think how Dimitri had been banned from playgrounds and places where kids were. Would I be also? God, what would Mom and Dad think if the police charged me? It had been Rich who had approached me. It was more his fault than mine. As I thought about it, he wouldn't report me. He had been the one doing all the hinting, and lying about girls. And if he hadn't, then his kid brother would never have been involved. He had to be feeling more guilty than I was about that. And Niles had been willing, eager. I hadn't forced him to do anything. He did everything because he wanted to, because he enjoyed it. All kids enjoy messing around, messing around with their peckers, with other boys. Dimitri has said that over and over.

He's also said everybody has a little gay in them. Rich proved him right. Rich was eager to mess around with me, to get his cock sucked, even get his ass fucked. It was everyone else who was messed up, his parents for making him feel guilty about what felt good, his parents for teaching his kid brother that messing around with guys was wrong, with their friends saying guys who had sex with guys were fairies. They were the ones who were wrong. And it didn't have anything to do with sex. It was all about power. They had the power to tell others what was right or wrong, what to do and what not to do. That was no different from being a bully. But things can change.

Like with Cory Carson. Never in my wildest dreams did I figure he would ever suck my cock, or that I would like it. But that wasn't sex. That was power. Cory had power over me but then Dimitri had power over him and because of that I now had power over Cory. All because of Dimitri. Why Dimitri came to my rescue I don't know. I don't even know how he knew I was being bullied, but he did, and he did something about it. I was in distress and as unexpected as it could be, he was my Champion.

Rumour was that Cory was the guy in the can giving blow jobs Prom Night. He had to be. He disappeared for two hours and then showed up. Rumours are that he was now giving blow jobs to anyone who wanted them, fags, straight guys who are gay curious, bis, you name it. He's gone from the school bully to the school whore. And he's being super nice to me ever since that afternoon in the old warehouse. Everyone is wondering why. They are wondering what power I have over him. Now guys who used to bully me are being nice, or at least avoid me. Now some of them are scared of me.

When I first met Dimitri he scared the crap out of me and he still does. He could be very cruel when he wanted to be. When we left on holiday, I was overjoyed that I was going to be free of him for four weeks. He was a pervert. But after the first day I found I missed his touching. I found myself thinking of gay sex. Gay sex wasn't as bad as people said it was, not really. When I got his first text I felt a thrill run up my spine and my cock twitched. You would think I'd gotten a message from one of the hot girls in our class that all the guys had the hots for. For the rest of our holiday in the Okanagan I got a lot of looks and I bet if I wanted to I could have gotten laid. There were several girls who had the hots for my body and with a little effort I could probably have screwed them. Four months ago that would have been totally lit. Now I didn't even try. I didn't want to. But I thought about the guys who got turned on, and thought about the kids who gave me a double look. Four months ago I would have been disgusted with the idea of having sex with them. Things have changed. Life wasn't so complex before DS… I'm not sure it was as good as it is now.

CHAPTER 13
Anna's wedding

The twentieth of July was Anna's twenty-fifth birthday and her brother Niko's seventeenth. It was the custom of their family to celebrate the two birthdays at the same time with the entire family gathering together on the actual day of their birth, usually at their favourite gathering spot, Lake Chestermere.

When they were children, a second birthday was celebrated on separate days where their friends were invited. This year was no different. As usual, Nonna had been baking up a storm for a week before, and the picnic table was spread with everyone's favourites, from appetiser to dessert, and there was enough food for triple the number of attendees.

There were the usual congratulations from their brothers and sisters. The presentation of gifts, reminiscing of past birthdays and childhood escapades. The blessing of the food and prayers of thanksgiving and wishes for many more birthdays in the future. Nonno's toast to the happy pair and Nonna's urging for everyone to have a third and fourth helping.

It was a joyous occasion, marred only by the presence of her brother Dimitri. His fourteen-year-old tutor, who now attended so many family functions, had become like a member of the family. He was currently on holiday, leaving Dimitri free to devote his full attention to his young nephews.

To say marred, I don't mean that he did anything to upset the day purposefully. Dimitri didn't have to do anything at all to accomplish that. His mere presence cast a black shadow over everything.

When he had first returned home, everyone had been extra friendly to him and extra cautious not to do anything to offend him, but over the ensuing months, he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his family and did not care what his presence was doing. Other than emerging for meals, he spent the days and nights in his room with the lights off. When he did make an appearance, he didn't say anything and just sat there staring off into space with this blank look as if he was unaware of anything around him. When he did look at you, it was with cold, unfeeling eyes that gave you the impression he imagined a dozen unspeakable things to do to you.

I was not the only one who was creeped out by him; his brothers and sisters all felt the same way. They had been cautious right from the beginning, and over time they trusted him less and less. It was not that he ever did anything wrong. It was just the way he did things that made others uncomfortable.

One that had developed since his return was the way he acted around his little nephews. That particular Thursday we celebrated the joint birthdays was typical. Domi and Marcus had flocked to him the moment they had arrived and sat one on either side of him throughout the meal and the celebrations. When he had first returned, they had been shy and uncertain in his presence, and he had reacted to them like he still responded to everyone else, with cold indifference.

That had changed. Their present behaviour is not unusual behaviour between nephews and a favourite uncle. There was also the way he did things, the way he tousled their hair or placed a hand on their butts that were very suggestive. The way he casually put his hand on their thighs, dangerously close to where he should not be touching, or the exchange of looks between him and the boys.

The two boys similarly never did anything improper. It was just that what they did do was provocative, suggesting behaviour that was inappropriate for boys their age. They sat there, one or the other invariably with a hand on his thigh, drawing one's attention to the ever-present bulge in his too-tight jeans. I know their parents had warned them about being alone with their uncle and had questioned them frequently about their visits to their grandparents and where their Uncle Dimitri was and what he did while they were there, but neither boy gave any suggestion that Dimitri had ever done anything inappropriate. Their parents couldn't mention anything specific, least they put ideas in the impressionable young boys' minds. Their cousin Lucas, in comparison, hung close to his parents and never took his eyes off his uncle, as if he was frightened by him. When questioned, he too did not reveal anything untoward about his uncle.

As for myself, whenever I did find him looking at me, it caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand. It was as if he was stripping me naked in his mind and was thinking of doing nasty things with me, which was foolish in that everything we knew about his captivity was that nasty things had been done to him. Had been forced –though some questioned the coercion part, to do the same to children, but never to adults. There was no indication whatsoever that he had any interest in older men. Then, he gave no sign he was interested in women either, or in his little nieces.

***

Anna and I had been engaged now for almost three years, and we had announced several months ago that we had chosen August Fifth as the date of our wedding. That we would eventually marry had come as no surprise to anyone. I got along well with her family, her parents approved of me, and likewise, my parents were overjoyed with the prospect of Anna becoming their daughter-in-law.

Aris and I had a long talk the day we had announced our engagement, about his love for his youngest daughter and his expectations of me as a future son-in-law. We had a good relationship right from the beginning, and since the announcement of our engagement, we had become even closer. It was because of his love for Anna and my love for her, and because of our close relationship, that I had dared approach him about Dimitri last month, the day after Canada Day.

I told him I knew Dimitri was making Anna and the rest of the family uncomfortable, and that though he had not broken any rules of his probation, he had undoubtedly bent them. An obvious example was that he was not allowed to be anywhere where there were children or youth, yet he had the young boy tutoring him over at his house twice a week. Niko had confided in me that Dimitri had other young boys over at his parents' house, boys who spent the night.

I knew that Dimitri had recently had a review of his progress by his probation officer and the psychiatrist he was being forced to see and that they had reported that Dimitri had made no progress. Dimitri did not have a job, and there was no indication of him looking for one or paying a penny toward his room and board. I asked point-blank why he was allowing Dimitri to stay, especially since it was apparent that his children had curtailed the visits of his grandchildren, whom I knew he and his wife doted them.

I will never forget his reply, nor the look in his eyes. I had seen Aris age physically in the five months Dimitri had returned home, and I knew he had seen and learned things about Dimitri that he had kept from the rest of the family. I now looked at a tired old man who looked fifteen years older than his actual age. He replied that he knew all that I said and that it was true, but despite that, Dimitri was breaking no laws and was causing no trouble. He was not going to playgrounds or schools or any other place where children and teenagers would be found, and there had been no stipulation that they were prohibited from coming to his home. He was doing community work down at the homeless shelter voluntarily as part of his rehabilitation program, helping people that many others looked down upon, outcasts much like himself, and that he was at home and in bed at a decent hour every night, something that many parents of twenty-three-year-olds could not say.

The tutor had been good for him and was doing more than just helping him with his mathematics. What precisely the boy was doing and how he was a help, Aris did not say. He also remarked that despite all Dimitri had gone through as a teenager and young man, he did not smoke, drink, gamble or do drugs. Yes, Dimitri had difficulty expressing emotions, something that was very difficult considering the natural intimacy of his family, and he had become a recluse, but was attending church and making progress in his own small way.

He knew some neighbours and friends were uncomfortable with Dimitri's presence and felt Aris should kick him out, but how, he asked, could a parent do that? He smiled wearily, and placing a hand on my shoulder, said that in the not so distant future, I would be a father, God willing, and I would understand what he was saying. I never raised the topic since.

The two weeks between the dual birthdays and the date of our wedding passed by quickly. Like the Savalos family, the Galiciano family is large and very close. I have five brothers and sisters also, and seventeen aunts and uncles, all who lived only a day's travel away. Unlike Anna's parents who had emigrated from Greece shortly after their oldest daughter had been born, my parents were children when they came to Canada. Even so, they were raised with the values and customs of the old country, as of course were Anna and her brothers and sisters, so there was no question that this was going to be a traditional Greek wedding. To be truthful, those two weeks and most of my wedding day passed by in a blur, as I am sure is the case for many brides and grooms.

Anna and I had met six months after our high school graduation, at the Feast of Saint Basil, called Saint Vasilios in Greek, which in the Orthodox Church is celebrated on January First, and we had begun dating shortly after that.

We hit it off immediately, but we both had career plans and decided that any talk of marriage would have to wait. Cupid had other ideas, and just under three years ago, we decided to become engaged but to wait until we were established in our careers and financially stable.

I had gone into the field of physiotherapy and massage therapy and upon graduation had become employed at the Southland Lifemark Leisure Centre. Anna had gone into nursing and became employed at the Holy Cross after her graduation. We both agreed last April that the time had come to set a date.

***

The day was unseasonably hot, but the reception was held outdoors under a massive tent on the acreage of one of Anna's uncles, who was in the construction business. There was much feasting, too many speeches, too much drinking, much dancing, and much merriment with kisses, congratulations and laughter. I remember little of it, but it was a perfect day in every respect. Anna's nieces, Helena and Andrea, were the darlings of both families as flower girls and my cousin Angelo performed his duties as my ring bearer with all the seriousness of a nine-year-old. Even my brother Cam, who had just turned fifteen and was a horny bag of hormones and self-entitlement, was reasonably well behaved. Dimitri, who had brought along his tutor, though he had not been invited, resulted in last-minute juggling of the seating arrangments, stayed in the shadows and was seldom seen, which suited me just fine.

Staying long enough to make our parents and aunts and uncles happy, but anxious to commence our lives as husband and wife, Anna and I expressed our thanks and made our departure at an hour acceptable to all. I had drunk quite a bit, but very aware of obligations still to come, I had not imbibed excessively.

Knowing we were not just the exception but a rarity in today's society, we had both refrained from sex in our relationship. Anna felt strongly that our marriage be a commitment based on love, not sex, and that her maidenhead is a gift for her husband and not tossed aside so freely. I accepted that and admired her for her religious conviction and moral stand. Like every young male that I knew, I had no intention of remaining a virgin until my marriage night, but I respected Anna too much to pressure her into compromising her principles.

Some girls did not have the same values as Anna, or as most put it, had more modern views about sex, and with my body, looks and personality I had no difficulty finding good-looking, sexually active girls and no reservations about bedding them. Of course, that changed with our engagement, but our new relationship did not prohibit me from seeking the services of a presentable working girl on those rare occasions when my right hand wasn't sufficient to satisfy the need. Leading a healthy, physically active life and engaged to a beautiful girl I sincerely loved, those occasions were rare.

I had booked a room at a hotel near the reception, a hotel not too expensive but better than average to fit the occasion. After all, it had been booked for only one purpose in mind. I was, therefore, upon our arrival, surprised to find a bucket of ice with a half-bottle of champagne cooling and on the pillow a complimentary box of half a dozen truffles made by a Belgian chocolatier, which of course we could not resist.

Opening the bottle and toasting each other and wishing each other a long and loving marriage, we fed each other the truffles as we began to make love. Finishing off the bottle, I retreated to the bathroom to allow my new wife to change into her nightgown. As I changed into my nightclothes, I felt a bit dizzy and had to sit down. I had been feeling fine until then and wondered if it had been wise to open the champagne, even if it was only two glasses each. Shrugging the dizziness off as due to my excitement and anxiety about the night, I took several deep breaths to clear my head for what was yet to come. My grogginess was replaced by a wave of horniness like I hadn't felt for a long time, which wasn't a surprise considering how long I had abstained from even my hand before this night.

As I emerged from the bathroom, all weariness fled with the sight before my eyes. Anna was a fashionable dresser, but she had outdone herself in selecting her outfit, and my cock immediately perked up its head as I wobbled over to the bed on bandy legs and sat beside her. Taking the last two truffles, we fed each other the treat. I had been feeling randy when I had left the bathroom, and now as I sucked the chocolate off Anna's fingers and she followed suit and began sucking mine I was feeling unbelievably so, and even though I had not drunk that much, the room was spinning, and I was having difficulty focussing.

"There's a note at the bottom of this truffle box."

"A note?"

"Did you tell Dimitri you booked this hotel?"

"Dimitri? Certainly not. I didn't tell anyone."

Anna held up the card and read it. "I hope that these specially enhanced truffles will fulfil your wildest dreams and greatest desires on this very special day. Dimitri."

"That has to be a coincidence. That's got to be the name of the chocolatier or manager of the hotel or something."

"It's a handwritten note, not a commercially produced card."

"That's impossible. I… I told nobody about this booking."

"Then, it has to be a coincidence. It's lovely handwriting." Putting the note back on the end table, Anna leaned over and kissed me.

It had to be. Anyway, nothing was going to spoil this night. I kissed her back and drew her to me. Her hot breasts pressed against my chest. Anna's see-through nighty left nothing to the imagination, and you could feel the heat of her body through the sheer fabric. I slipped my hand down and under the elastic of her panties to cup her smooth buttocks, and we kissed again. The room spun as our lips met still again and I had the strange sensation of floating and looking down at Anna as if my spirit had risen and I remember commenting something about it and observing that I was flying.

My next conscious memory was that I was lying on my back, and my cock was throbbing ferociously, and the knob burning intensely with pleasure. My cock was enveloped from tip to base by hot, moist, throbbing flesh. I could not recall mounting and penetrating my new wife. Had I rolled over and Anna mounted me? That would have been atypical of her, and the idea of her taking the role of the top was wildly erotic, but that must have been what happened. She was breathing heavily, approaching her climax, and so was I.

I concentrated on the throbbing of my swollen member deep up her vagina. I could feel her hot body between my thighs, but strangely I could feel nothing higher. I should be feeling her arms on either side of my chest and her breasts pressing against my body and our bellies meeting and retreating or something. Her breath should be blowing in my face, and mine in hers. With great effort, I opened my eyes a crack and raised my head. The room was in total darkness, but I could make out a dark figure between my legs. It was beneath the sheet and slowly bobbing up and down. Good Lord! Anna was blowing me! No doubt what she was doing. It felt awesome, but that was so unlike her to do something so vulgar, and so blissfully pleasurable. Ah, the joys and mysteries of marriage!

I'd never gotten a blow job before, but I'd heard other guys bragging about having had it done to them, and other guys had talked about it and how supposedly great it was. They were right. It was great. Superbly great. Greater than words could describe. I was on the brink of an orgasm and not wanting to do anything to ruin the moment; I went with it. Closing my eyes and focussing on the throbbing pleasure of my shaft, the burning irritation about my glans, and the building pressure in my groin and awaiting the inevitable climax. It was beautifully awesome, and that she was doing it for me was even more beautiful and impressive. I sighed with the throbbing pleasure and inhaled deeply, knowing that at any moment, I would feel the twang in my loins that announced the release of my seed. I should warn her!

As I pressed down with my elbows and slowly began to raise my head and upper body, the sheet fell away. Something was not right. The head bobbing between my legs was too small to be Anna's. Besides, I should feel her long, soft hair on my thighs; hair she had curled and perfumed to perfection for this day, but the person didn't have long hair. It was short, like a man's but the body was small, like a boy's.

Before I could focus, I was squirting. I arched my back and openly and crudely groaned with the pleasure of the release, my cum spurting out rapidly like a machine gun fire. The person sucking me could not swallow fast enough, and my cum filled his mouth and oozed out the corners of his lips and flowed down over his chin. His eyes were closed, and his long feathery eyelashes fluttered as he concentrated on his task. It was my nine-year-old cousin Angelo, my ring bearer. He was sucking my cock and swallowing my cum! I was too shocked to do anything but stare at him and squirt. What the Lord was going on!

Someone said something, too low for me to hear, and Angelo tightened his lips about my swollen member and resumed sucking and sliding his lips up and down my shaft. Where he had learned to give a blowjob, and for how long he had been doing it, I had no idea, but he was exceptionally good at it.

Angelo, my mother's sister's nine-year-old son, ring bearer and cock sucker. I didn't know him that well. My aunt lived in Edmonton, and though she frequently visited, as did we, I hadn't gotten to know Angelo. He was a child, after all, and I was already sixteen when he was born. He finally stopped, and as he slowly sat up, I didn't know what to do or say, if I should thank him or ask him why he had done it, or how he had gotten into our marriage bed, or to the hotel, or if his mother knew he sucked men's cocks. They were all ridiculous questions. My cock finally began to droop. That Anna wasn't there in bed with me slowly dawned on me. Where had she gone? Or was this the same room? It was dark, and all hotel rooms look the same. How could I tell?

***

The other person in the room said something about it being the custom of boys in his country to bring pleasure to the men in that manner and asked if he had not been right that it would be a pleasant task. I did not hear Angelo's answer. He continued, saying that since Angelo had given me a blowjob, it was only fair that I return the favour and give Angelo one. I did not recognise the voice and the person still being in the shadows I could not make out any features.

I told him "In his fucking dreams."

He said nothing but he slowly got up and stepped closer but stayed in the shadows. He pointed a long, narrow tube at me and touched my nipple. An electric shock sparked out of the end of the tube and through my nipple and my left breast, causing me to jerk and yelp with the pain. He ordered Angelo to sit on my chest and to stick his dick in my mouth. I started to get up, but I was too weak and dizzy and fell back on the bed. Angelo straddled my chest, and I felt his smooth, hot, naked butt against my chest.

He was wearing no pants or underwear, but he still had on his socks, white shirt, suit jacket and tie from the wedding. He looked like he was drunk, or dazed, or drugged. Keeping out of my sight, the guy stepped forward and raised my head and stuck a pillow under it and Angelo slid further up my chest. Holding the tube in my face, the guy told me to start giving Angelo a blow job. As I took his little noodle in my mouth and began to suck, I thought about how I might overpower the guy and get out of there, but I couldn't stay focused. Angelo's little cocklet didn't taste bad as I had expected. To my surprise, it was hard. I tried to recall if I had ever been hard at that age. I don't think I ever was.

I sucked on his little noodle as I tried to gather my thoughts. It had to be no bigger than my thumb. It had no taste–at least none that I was aware of. I easily slipped my lips from the tip down to the base and back up, pulling his foreskin up over the knob and pushing it back down with my lips as I sucked. His pubes were hairless of course, as were his nuts, which were hanging low in a loose sack. I wondered what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

He was only nine! His little dink was throbbing, and he was breathing erratically. I tried to focus on how I was going to get out of there, but my mind kept coming back to my first impressions of sucking cock, the taste, the smell, and the silky smoothness of his pecker, how rigid it was. Somehow, to my lips, it felt triangular. Suddenly Angelo began to squirm and then to jerk spasmodically. My Lord, he was having an orgasm. At nine years of age! God! I stopped sucking, and Angelo drew his cock out of my mouth. He was breathing heavily. What the fuck! He finally got off my chest.

"Look at the Goddamn pervert. Sucking his little cousin has gotten him a boner again." I hadn't realised it, but it had.

"Well, we'll have to do something about that." That was a second voice, different from the first. There was a third adult in the room.

"I guess it's your turn." The speaker pushed another person forward, another child.

From the moonlight coming in through the window, I could see it was Tristan, the nine-year-old son of my longtime buddy and my best man at my wedding. I remember being told he was going to be ten soon. He was stark naked. Like Angelo, he looked drunk or drugged and frightened. They helped him up onto the bed, but instead of kneeling between my thighs, they had him turn his back to me and to straddle me with his knees on either side of my chest. They had him back up until his backside was in my face.

"Rim him."

"You're sick," I replied.

The first man, the man with the tube, fired a shock up my left nipple. As he began to swing the tube over to the other nipple, I raised my head and stuck out my tongue. Had they used the same persuasion on the two boys as they were using on me? If they had, I could see why the two boys were so complacent. The electric prod stung like a hundred hornets. I had never rimmed anyone before, of course, and knew nothing about it other than what it meant.

The second man to have spoken instructed me, and I obeyed. I ran my tongue up the boy's ass crack. It was definitely salty. I tickled his pucker with the tip, and the boy squirmed. Tristan was told to push out as if he was taking a shit to open his anus. He readily obeyed, and I wormed the tip of my tongue inside. To my relief, the boy didn't have to take a crap and hadn't taken one recently. At least there was no evidence of shit though there was a dank, musty odour.

I fastened my lips to his pucker and sucked, causing the boy to tense. I inhaled through my nose and blew air up his hole, causing him to quiver. I knew people did this for pleasure, but how they found pleasure in it, escaped me. They were sick. Perverts. With each flick of my tongue, my hatred for the two men increased. I tried to block out the foulness of rimming the boy by trying to figure out who the two men were, how they knew the hotel I was staying at and how they had managed to bring the two boys with them. Why they were doing this, I could find no clue to any of my questions, but I arrived at one conclusion. Dimitri.

They finally had me stop. "Smear this all over his cock."

The second guy, still keeping in the shadows, handed Tristan a tube of KY. My cock had been stiff when I'd begun rimming the boy, and it was still stiff, and aching and itching worse than I ever remember in my life. The boy unscrewed the top, squeezed out a small dab of gel on the fingers of his left hand and then looked down at my stiff cock. He was still straddling my body with his back to me, but I could imagine the look in his eyes.

Slowly reaching out, the boy smeared the gel over the knob and shaft. My cock jerked with the touch of his hot little hand, and the first man laughed and told the boys to see how eager my cock was for boy sex, something all men desired whether they were willing to admit it or not. I wanted to disagree, but I knew it would be futile and only result in another electric shock.

"Now, I want you to sit on his cock."

"No! Not that!" Still straddling me with his back to me, his legs widespread and a knee on either side of my body, Tristan shuffled down with the help of the two men until he was straddling my thighs. They called Angelo over, and the boy sat down on the bed and reached out and held my hard, hot cock at the base. He still had a dazed look on his face, but his eyes were focused on my cock and bright with interest. Tristan slowly sat back and then shuffled a bit further down, so he was in a better position and continued to sit. Angelo's tongue pushed out between his partially parted lips as he concentrated on his role, aiming my stiff, lubed cock at Tristan's hole. I felt my knob press against Tristan's anus and slowly began to stretch his anus open.

"No!" I protested, but nobody listened.

Slowly the naked boy continued to lower his body, and slowly my lubed cock entered his body, first my knob and then my shaft until Angelo moved his hand away and my hairs were pressed against Tristan's smooth, compact bottom. My Lord, I had my cock up the ass of my best friend's nine-year-old son!

Tristan flexed his legs and lifted his body, and I felt my cock easing out of his rectum, and then he sank back down on my cock, and it sank back up his asshole. Tense and relax, rise and fall, up and down, in and out. The only sound in the room was his heavy breathing. From his exertion? Or from sexual arousal?

The room was unbearably hot, and I could feel the sweat trickling down my sides. I could see it beading on Tristan's back in the moonlight and then trickling down his darkly tanned, angular body. His shoulder blades stuck out as a nine-year-old boy's do. My cock throbbed, and my knob buried deep up his hot, moist ass. He contracted his asshole as he rose and then relaxed his sphincter as he sank back down. My best friend's son was riding my cock; nine-year-old boy, soon to be ten. He grunted and snorted with the exertion and his arousal and sweat trickled down his back.

I assumed it was arousing for him, to have a twenty-five-year-old man's cock up your nine-year-old ass and about to shoot a load. Maybe stimulating was a better word. Better words were filthy and perverted, but it was erotic. I glanced over at Angelo sitting there on the bed beside me and watching my cock sliding in and out of the boy's asshole. What had he to be thinking? He didn't know me any better than I knew him. Was he finding this arousing? Perverted? Sick? He had to know I was not doing this willingly. He knew this was my wedding night. Good Lord! Where was Anna? What was happening to her? There I was on my wedding night with my stiff cock up the asshole of the son of my best friend and about to shoot my second load not knowing where my new wife was nor what was happening to her.

***

I tried to calm down, to assess what was happening rationally, but my mind kept coming back to the pulsating distraction between my legs. My cock throbbed hotly up the boy's tight ass, and my knob burned with that delightful but painful itch, the itch you wished would stop but that you wanted to continue. I felt myself once again approaching that peak of pleasure and pain. I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes shut as I fought it, but it was impossible to prevent. I was going to shoot a load up the rectum of a nine-year-old boy, and nothing was going to be able to stop it.

The pressure built steadily until once again I felt the twang in my loins and once again I released my seed, this time spurting it deep up the ass of a nine-year-old boy. Tristan trembled and gasped, and he had to know I was shooting, that I was filling his asshole with my semen. With Angelo's eyes glued to my cock, slick with KY and ass slime and now my slime. As Tristan rose for the last time, it popped out of his rectum. What were the two boys thinking? How were they feeling?

"Now we have another problem," observed the first man to have spoken, the man with the electric prod. "The kid has liked getting his ass fucked so much it's given him a boner."

The other man laughed. As Tristan got off the bed and turned, I saw it was true. The boy's little dick was standing straight up in the air. His cheeks were a bright red. At least I knew what he was thinking and how he was feeling. Did he wobble, from fatigue, or drunkenness, or from just having been fucked?

"Don't be embarrassed about it, boy. That is perfectly natural," the first man continued. "In my country, a boy is expected to bend over when a man requests it, and I have not yet met a boy who did not like to get his tender ass fucked."

I tried to place the man's accent. East Indian? Pakistan? Afghanistan? I didn't know anyone personally from any of those countries.

"Well, I think one good turn deserves another," observed the other man.

"Up on your knees and elbows," ordered the first as he turned to me.

I glared up at him. Before I could speak, he responded by touching the inside of my right thigh with the electric probe, and I jerked and clenched my teeth to stop from crying out. I knew the next shock would be between my legs. I could see in his eyes he was hoping I would resist. I rolled over and got up on my knees and elbows. After a moment's hesitation, Tristan climbed back onto the bed, this time kneeling behind me.

"I think just a little lube," said the man with the probe.

Tristan shuffled forward and after several attempts, located my anus and wedged the tip of his little cocklet in my opening. Grasping my hips, he slowly pushed forward and his little cocklet, perhaps ten centimetres long [4 inches] and as thick as my thumb, penetrated me.

"Atta boy, you got it up his ass with no trouble at all. You're a natural. Go ahead. Give the boy fucker all you got. He didn't hold back on you."

Tristan began easing his little cocklet in and out of my ass. I didn't know how much of the man's pep talk he believed. I didn't know if Tristan was fucking my ass out of revenge, because he was horny, or because he didn't want to be shocked as I had been. He was nine years old. Did he even know why he had the throbbing desire between his legs? I inhaled deeply, as I felt his little cocklet pumping in and out of my asshole.

My best friend's nine-year-old son was fucking my ass, on my wedding night. I wondered if his father realised he was not at home safe and snug in his bed. I wondered what his father would think if he knew I had just shot a load up his son's ass, and that the boy was now fucking mine. How was I going to look at the boy's father in the eye the next time we met? I didn't know his son, but he was my best buddy. We had known each other since childhood. Good Lord, we had been nine going on ten. His boy looked just like him at that age. At least his face. I had no idea about his cock.

We had played Space Wars and fought off alien invaders with mock ray guns and light sabres. We had gorged ourselves on ice cream and cooled off at the water park and had a boys-only club. We had no interest in girls and swore a pact that we never would. We did not know about sex. I had no memory of having a boner at that age, and if I did, it was because I had to take a bad piss in the morning.

Now his son was fucking my ass and was packing my load up his rectum. He had seen my nine-year-old cousin sucking me off and me filling my cousin's mouth with my slime, and he had seen me sucking the dick of my little cousin. It was sick and perverse. There had to be only one person behind this, Dimitri. But why? And where was he? He couldn't be getting any thrill out of this being absent unless he was with Anna. Good Lord! But he wouldn't be. She was his sister for Chrissake! And he wasn't interested in girls. He was the boylover, the perverted abuser of little boys.

I knelt there fuming at him, growing angrier and angrier as Tristan pounded my ass. The boy was thrusting his hips to and fro rapidly, and he was gasping for breath. He might not have been willingly fucked, but Tristan was willingly fucking me. Or was he? I'd just had those thoughts, hadn't I? I could not concentrate. Tristan grasped my ass tighter and began thrusting his hips to and fro erratically as he groaned and gasped and snorted. He rammed his smooth, hairless groin against my buttocks as his cocklet throbbed up my rectum and he tensed and moaned. Christ, the kid was having an orgasm. He was nine! He was my best friend's son! Gasping for breath, he withdrew his cock and sat back on the bed.

"Oh, no."

"Now what's wrong?" asked the man with the probe.

"Now our boylover's got another boner."

"Those truffles were enhanced," the man observed. "Or maybe he just likes getting his ass fucked by young boys."

"Truffles? What do you know about those truffles?"

"Looks like all this sex has gotten his cousin stiff again. What do you say, Angelo? Your pervert cousin is already in position. You want to see what it's like to have a piece of ass?"

"Truffles," I shouted angrily.

I was ignored. Angelo nodded. His face was flushed and still had a slack, drunken look, but he had understood the question and was capable of making a decision, of his own free will. He was erect and horny.

Getting up, he crawled onto the bed behind me. Having been fucked by Tristan's greased cocklet, there was no need to lube my hole. Angelo's dick was almost the same size. He had no difficulty penetrating me and once again I felt a slender boy prick pumping in and out of my ass as once again I was fucked by a nine-year-old boy.

There was no question that he had gotten behind me willingly, even eagerly. Were boylovers right? Did all boys have a natural drive for sex that adults were repressing? I did not have such a drive, and nor did any of my friends at his age. Had things changed that much in the past fifteen years? Moral standards certainly had. Sex was much more open and relaxed, and different sexual orientations were much more accepted today. But the prohibition of sex with children had not. If anything, the stand against it had grown stronger and more vocal. So why did Angelo and Tristan agree so readily? It had to have been because they were drugged. That reminded me of the comment about the truffles. What exactly had the guy said? Something. . .

***

Tristan had wiped off his cocklet and now crawled up on the bed in front of me, obviously under the direction of the two men. I was ordered to lick his nipples. I did and he twitched with the arousal. They had me suck them, and he squirmed with pleasure as I did so. The little buds quickly became firm. They had me lick his nuts. I did, willingly. I was ordered to suck his cocklet. I did. It no longer mattered. I would do whatever I was told to do. The two men laughed. Tristan got hard again. I sucked on his stiff little noodle as a similar one pumped in and out of my asshole. I worked my lips up and down his little cocklet; pulling his foreskin up over the knob and pushing it back down with my lips. I sucked on his bulb and ran my tongue around the rim, causing him to tremble with arousal.

I remembered how it had felt waking up to my first blowjob. Good Lord – that seemed so long ago. My first blowjob had been this night, at the age of twenty-five. The boy was nine. Good Lord, this was perverted. Two boys, nine years of age, one with his stiff, throbbing dick in my mouth, the other with his stiff, throbbing dick up my ass. The two boys were grunting and gasping with pleasure, me on my knees and elbows, and my cock was throbbing and jerking with desire – on my wedding night! The two boys gasped and jerked with their second orgasm that night.

"Well, this has been a blast, but we better get these boys back home before they're missed."

"And the boylover back to his new wife," said the man with the electric probe.

"Not that his wife has had a chance to notice his absence," laughed the other.

They hauled me to my feet and half-dragged and half-carried me out of the room, up the hall and into the adjoining room.

I don't know how many hours had passed, but my mind had cleared considerably since I had last been in the room, though I was still abnormally horny despite having shot off twice. The room was in total darkness, but moonlight from the parted drapes was sufficient to see there was a couple in the bed, and what they were doing.

The light reflected off the man's white buttocks, making them seem even whiter. They contrasted with his darkly tanned back, arms and legs. They were bouncing up and down. From the shape of the hips and the shoulders, it was a man, a very young man. He was grunting and groaning openly without reservation, clearly approaching his climax. The person under him was hidden by shadows and the young man's body, but from the curve of the legs raised and wrapped about his waist and the position under and facing him, it was clearly female. She too was gasping and moaning and about to orgasm also.

"Oh God, oh God, I'm coming again," she gasped. I froze. That voice I knew.

"Oh fuck, me too," the man puffed. The voice was very young and very familiar. "Oh fuck," he gasped as he arched his back and drove his cock up her cunt.

You could see the sweat beaded on his back glistening in the moonlight. He was shooting his load into her. The man beside me was still in the shadows, but I could see his teeth flash as he smiled. He seemed to have a beard and a turban, but I could not be sure. He held up four fingers.

"Oh Romano, Romano," the woman under him gasped as she too arched her back and trembled with orgasm. "Oh God," she groaned, "oh God!" She gasped as if the breath was being squeezed out of her.

The young man between her legs raised himself and stared down at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Anna?" It was a whisper and a question.

"Yes, my beloved, oh yes," Anna sighed.

The man got up and staggered back into the moonlight streaming through the parted curtains, his face stricken. Cam! My fifteen-year-old brother! His hair was damp with sweat and his face streaked, as was his smooth, hairless chest. He raised his hands and grasped his head as he stared down at my wife, at his sister, at the woman he had just pumped full of his semen. His armpit hair was long and silky and plastered to his skin with sweat. He took another step back and shook his head. His cock was flaccid and shone in the moonlight from her cunt juice coating it. A pendant of his cum hung from the tip. He was well hung.

"No, no," he whispered.

"Romano, what is it? What's wrong?" Anna asked groggily, her breasts still rising and falling as she gasped for breath. The moonlight reflected off them, and off the damp hairs of her cunt, sticky with slime, Cam's and hers.

Cam stood there in a daze as the two men with me snatched up his clothes and shoved them at him, and the one turned him around and guided him out of the room. The door to the adjacent room opened and closed and the man with me, the man with the electric prod, held up four fingers and ushered the two boys out the door. Lord! How much had they seen? How much did they understand?

"Romano?" called Anna, frightened and concerned now as she struggled to sit up.

"I'm right here," I said, sitting on the bed and taking her in my arms. My right buttock was sitting on a cold, slimy spot.

Anna ran her hands down my body. "Romano! You're hard again?"

I was. My organ throbbed as she wrapped her fingers around it. "It feels like it's gotten even bigger, and harder!" she said in amazement.

I kissed her cheek. From what I had glimpsed of Cam, he was well hung, but he was only fifteen. I was older and bigger. Anna continued to squeeze my cock as she slipped her other arm about me.

"You feel bigger too, and harder," she said, resting her cheek against my chest.

I bent my head and kissed her forehead. She tilted her head back, and I kissed her lips. She fell back, and I followed. She was still holding my cock with her right hand.

"I was warned how men are on their wedding night," she whispered, "and I never had any doubt how much of a man you are, but never in my wildest fantasies did I imagine my wedding night would be like this."

Nor had I! She kissed me hotly and slowly and gently, but firmly, stroked my stiff, aching cock. I kissed her lips and caressed her thigh and buttocks. She cupped my testicles, and I tensed with her touch.

"I know, darling. Not so tight this time." She rolled my balls gently in their sack.

This time? She had never held my balls before, nor any other man's. She had confessed to being a virgin, and I believed her. Until tonight. Until my kid brother… Lord, she had held his balls tonight! What else had they done?

From the way she was stroking my cock, he had evidently taught her how. The first man's cock she had held had been my kid brother's! And he had screwed her. Four times! My heart was beating with anger, with humiliation, with angst. My mind raced from one thought to the next. I eased down her hot, sweaty body and kissed her breast. It was salty with sweat.

"Your cheeks are scratchy now," she observed as she released my cock and reached up and caressed my chest with the same fingers as had held my pecker.

"Sorry." Cam's cheeks would, of course, be soft and downy.

Lord! He kissed my wife's tits! Before me. Well, no. I had kissed them before I had passed out and carted off to the adjoining room, I think.

"Well, it has been a long night and a while since you've shaved." She circled my teat with her finger sending shivers up my spine. "Does that still feel good?" she asked.

Christ – She'd caressed Cam like that! I murmured that it did.

She reached down with her left hand and wrapped her fingers about my throbbing cock. She stroked my nipple lightly with her fingertip, sending a spasm of irritation through it and causing me to jerk and my cock too.

"That hasn't changed," she observed.

My God – She did that to Cam also, while holding his cock? The little bastard! The dirty fucking sleazy bag of hormones! My wife! These should be my firsts! I licked her nipple, and she jerked and gasped.

"Nor has that," I observed.

"Romano. You didn't do that before!"

Of course I had. Hadn't I? No. I had done it to Tristan.

I licked her nipple again, and then fastening my lips about it, I sucked. Anna inhaled deeply and quivered and released her grip on my cock, leaving it to throb and jerk on its own. At least I had been left with two things new. New between Anna and me anyway.

I had sucked a nipple hard before. Tonight. Tristan's. As I sucked on her breast and licked her nipple, my mind flashed back to sucking the cock of my cousin and the cock of my best man's son and tonguing the rim of his bulb. I wondered what my new wife would say if she found out the mouth sucking on her tit had sucked the cocklets of two nine-year-old boys this night. My cock quivered. At least Cam would never be able to claim that.

Anna squirmed and wormed her way under me. I returned to her lips and smothered her with kisses. As our lips pressed together, I slipped my tongue out and thrust it between her lips.

"Or that," she sighed.

My perverse mind flashed to me rimming my ring bearer's pucker. Now my tongue was pressing against my wife's lips. My cock twitched as if the electric probe had touched it.

***

I was between her legs. Reaching down, I grasped my cock by the base and easing back along with the sheets. I placed the tip against her hot, moist hole. She was hot and slick, and I was horny and firm. Her cunt lips parted willingly, and I slipped my knob inside and then eased my cock up her pussy.

It was not the first time her cunt had a cock in it with the resulting previous times, making it easier and smoother for me. I continued to press further, sliding my cock through my kid brother's slime and her cunt juice, sliding it up her pussy until our hairs were pressing against each other. Balancing myself on my knees and elbows, I began to pump my hips to and fro, fucking her for the first time, my first time, her fifth. Five times. Would she expect this type of performance every night we made love?

It would never exactly be this type, I thought perversely. This night I had my cock up the asshole of my nine-year-old cousin and my best man's nine-year-old son, and now I had it up my wife's cunt. The boys' assholes had been tighter, but Anna squeezed her cunt about my bone like the two boys had not been able to or at least had not known how. Her cunt throbbed in time with my cock, and she pushed forward and withdrew, matching my movements.

And so I pumped my cock in and out of my wife's cunt for the first time. We both believed in the church's teachings on contraception, rejecting both birth control pills and condoms. We had discussed that earlier and both had agreed on relying on natural rhythms as God's prescribed method of birth control. When we had chosen the date of our wedding, Anna had confided in me that the time was between her periods, smack in the middle of her peak fertility period. We talked about changing the date, and of abstinence, and decided if it was God's will that she becomes pregnant, then so be it. If we were ready for marriage, we were ready for parentage. Our discussion and decision had not considered the presence of Cam.

***

There was an excellent chance Anna could be impregnated this very night. If she was, it was much more likely it would be by Cam, considering he had been there four times before me. I could use the withdrawal method to ensure Anna carried only Cam's sperm this night, but we had both agreed that it was an offence against God as revealed to us through Onan. I could stop now, but she was enjoying it, and so was I and stopping now would leave us both with a sense of unfulfillment. Besides, continuing to the end was my right as a husband.

Unfortunately, if I continued and she became pregnant, I would never know who the father was, Cam or me, without a paternity test. That would be awkward. Cam did not think I knew what he had done this night, and if I demanded a paternity test, he would know I knew what he had done. If I stopped and she became pregnant I would know it was Cam. Of course, he would have no idea of knowing what Anna and I had done this night, though he had to be wondering about my absence. I suspect that if Anna gave birth close to nine months from this date, he would wonder if he was responsible. Of course, if I abstained for the rest of the week or more and she didn't become pregnant, there would be no problem. At least concerning the parentage of her first child.

My cock was throbbing, and I knew I had to decide now. Anna was gasping and groaning. Her cunt was grasping my cock, and then she was jerking and thrusting her hips. I felt the twang in my loins, my semen raced up the core of my cock and spurted up Anna's vagina, and there was no longer a choice. We grasped each other in our climax, our organs throbbing in unison, my juices mixing with hers, and with my kid brother.

As we lay there afterwards in each other's arms, I thought about the choices I'd had and the decision I had made, and I decided it was the best decision. That decided, I thought about everything that had happened that day and that night. Try as hard as I could; I could find no clue as to who the two men were who were part of my wedding night. I could think of nothing they had said or done or that I had seen that gave me a hint as to their identity. There was absolutely no way that anyone knew what hotel I had booked for that night.

***

As for Angelo and Tristan, there was no doubt from their behaviour and the glassy look in their eyes that the two boys had been drunk or were drugged. They hadn't been fully aware of what was happening. Being impressionable at that age and subject to suggestion in their state, their behaviour was explainable. I had to concede that though I was sure it was the result of drugs and not nature, there was a possibility that there was some credence to the claim by paedos that boys at that age had sexual needs and awareness. At any rate, it would have been easy enough for two men slip them drugs during the festivities. Also whisk them away in the dark of night for our rendezvous and then returned them to their parents without anyone knowing.

Cam's case was even more credible. As I've said, having just turned fifteen, he was an obnoxious bag of hormones. Drugging him would have been easy, as would be transporting him to the hotel and slipping him into our room after drugging Anna and me and slipping me out. He was likely so doped up and so horny he didn't have a clue who he was banging and didn't care. It was only as the drugs began to wear off that he realised he had been humping his sister. That was a slipup by the two men in administering the dosage of the drug they had given him. Or perhaps they had planned it that way, purposefully seeing that his fuck for the night was revealed in the end. He and I were going to have an awkward time whenever we met after this, and especially if Anna was pregnant.

As for Anna and myself, it was clear. We had both purposefully been moderate in our drinking that evening. Given our state of grogginess and dizziness at the hotel room, we had to have been drugged before leaving the wedding, or upon arriving at the hotel, and likely both. The latter was certain, and the evidence was sitting on the nightstand.

One of the men had said something about the truffles being enhanced, and so had the card. Enhanced so we would be groggy and manipulated? Enhanced to strengthen our sexual performance? Likely both. As to who was responsible and why was also evident.

***

I'll never forget the look on Dimitri's face when I had encountered him and his damn little tutor in the hallway after talking to his father about why he was allowing Dimitri to stay at home and my advice that he should toss him out. It was the same blank, fish-eyed look and creepy penetrating stare, but I knew he had heard me and that he was planning his revenge as he stood there looking through me. The evidence was also there on the nightstand beside the box, and I would nail him with it. This time he had slipped up.

As I lay there staring up at the ceiling, the sky began to lighten outside. I raised myself on one arm and glanced at the nightstand. The truffle box was gone, as was the handwritten note. I got up and checked the wastepaper basket in the bathroom. I checked the nightstand a second time and the nightstand on the other side of the bed. I looked on top of the desk and under it and in the drawer. I checked the top of the dresser and in the drawers and the counter in the bathroom. When Anna awoke, we both checked the entire room, even the soiled bedsheets. Both were gone.

Chapter 14
Educating Lucas

Story told by Lucas. Lucas ashamed and sexuality questioned, fear and anger at Dimitri, curious; day mother gives birth taken by Dimitri to Chestermere with Marcus and Domi while others at hospital, talk about babies, shows porn of painted woman whore getting fucked, sloppy cunt to turn off women, see dogs screwing and tells about knot and joke of licking; at site find two 14 yo boys smoking, measuring, looking a men's mag.  Force boys to suck two of them while being fucked by the other two, then 69 each other, then reverse sucking/fucking roles with the opposite boy.

Characters: Dimitri, Marcus, Lucas, Domi, Willis 14 and Drew 14.
Codes: m/t, t/t, t/b, nc.

As usual the whole family, my parents and sisters and grandparents and my aunts and uncles and cousins, and Uncle Dimitri's teacher, all went out to Chestermere Lake for a picnic after church last Sunday, August 13^th. It was a special Sunday in that it was my tenth birthday. Saturday I celebrated with my closest friends at a party at my house, Sunday, my actual birthday, was for family, which was how my family usually did things. There were presents, a book "5000 Awesome Facts" from my grandparents, a Lego Technic™ Mine Loader from my parents, Go Brightz™ LED lights for my bike, and an awesome Solar robot kit from Uncle Dimitri among others, balloons and of course a huge birthday cake made by Nonna, big enough for all of us. It was a super hot day and we went swimming except my grandparents of course. Dimitri's teacher wore this real skimpy suit that barely covered his stuff which raised a lot of eyebrows among my family. My dad brought out our boat of course and everyone took turns going for a ride around the lake, there being too many of us to all go at the same time. Chestermere Lake is my favourite place, or it was until my mother's birthday last May and Uncle Dimitri and my cousins Domi and Marcus did some bad things to me, dirty things. The family goes there a lot and after that day in May I've worried each time we've gone back, and I was especially worried last Sunday even though they only did stuff that one day and haven't done anything since.

Uncle Dimitri scares me. He scares me a lot. He looks at you real funny, as if he's thinking of doing bad stuff to you, and he did that one time. Domi and Marcus think he is real cool but they're only in grade seven and don't know nothing. To my relief he didn't pay any attention to me that Sunday, just like the other Sundays before that, and he spent most of his time talking with this boy he always brings now, his teacher. Mom says the boy is helping Uncle Dimitri learn his mathematics but I don't understand. The boy is only fourteen and Uncle Dimitri is twenty-three and Uncle Dimitri doesn't seem slow, not like some guys in our school who you can tell aren't very smart and need help. Anyway, nothing happened.

Then Friday the 18^th, it was my uncle Alexandros's 28^th birthday and we all went back to Chestermere Lake for a barbecue and to celebrate his birthday and I got all nervous and worried again but again Uncle Dimitri didn't pay any attention to me though he did to Domi and Lucas, and his teacher. Early the next morning we had to take my mother to the hospital to have her baby. Nonna and Nonno joined us at the hospital and then the doctor came and talked to Dad and he stayed but I and my sisters went to my grandparent's to wait. When the rest of the family heard they all gathered at my grandparent's house too and waited for news what was happening. I heard Uncle Alexandros say my mom was having a difficult birth and everyone was looking sort of worried. While we were sitting and waiting, Uncle Dimitri took Domi and Marcus and me to his room, to be out of the way of the adults and so the adults could talk adult stuff he said. Well, I'm not supposed to be with Uncle Dimitri by myself, and nor are Domi or Marcus, but there were three of us so we weren't exactly alone, though there were just three of us that time at my mother's birthday too and Uncle Dimitri still did stuff he wasn't supposed to with us. We were there in Nonna and Nonno's house though, and everyone was just down the hall, so that made it different. Anyway, I hoped I was safe.

"You know what's happening, don't you?" asked Uncle Dimitri.

"You mean that Aunt Maria's having her baby?" asked Domi.

"Yes, that's right," said Uncle Dimitri. "Her baby is having a difficult time getting out of her belly. You remember when Lucas explained to you what fucking is?"

"Oh yeah," Domi and Marcus said. Of course they remembered. That was the day they did dirty things to me. I certainly remembered it. That was three months ago and I had nightmares about it for a month afterwards.

"Now I know Marcus and Lucas have seen their little sisters' pussies. Have any of you seen your mom's pussy?" The three of us glanced at each other and said we hadn't. Domi and Marcus wrinkled up their noses and said "ewww." I have to agree, the thought of seeing my mother's thing I thought was disgusting too and it sent a quiver up my wiener. I don't know why. I reached down and squeezed it to make it feel better but then Uncle Dimitri noticed and I pulled my hand away quick and turned red. I thought he would for sure but Uncle Dimitri didn't say anything about it. "Well, Lucas's mother's pussy is a lot bigger than your little sisters', but it's still quite small, just big enough for his dad's dick to fit." Domi and Marcus exchanged looks and giggled and the thought of my dad doing that caused my wiener to quiver again, but this time I didn't touch it. "Lucas's mother's baby is having a hard time squeezing out through his mother's pussy." Having seen my little sister's, I couldn't imagine how a baby could do it no matter how much bigger my mom's is. "I have a video here," Uncle Dimitri continued, "that shows a woman's cunt. It'll give you a good idea how small a hole it is."

From the looks on their faces, Domi and Marcus weren't too keen about seeing the video, and nor was I, but none of us wanted to say no to Uncle Dimitri and it probably wouldn't have stopped him anyway. So he took out this video and popped it in the player. He has his own player and TV in his bedroom. It began with this woman, sort of fat and ugly, putting on makeup in front of a mirror. There was a knock on the door and she answered it and there was a guy there. He was sort of fat and ugly too and going bald. Anyway he came in and they went in her bedroom and he sat on her bed and she began taking off her clothes. You got a real close look at her boobs, and at her pussy. I'd seen my mother's boob when she fed my two sisters, and I'd seen their pussies, but they weren't nothing like this woman's. Her boobs were big and fat and floppy with huge, red nipples, and her pussy was like a big ugly gash between her legs and looked all slimy and gross and it was covered with so much hair you could hardly see it.

Anyway they began to kiss and caress each other and stuff and the guy's dick got hard and she lay back and spread her legs and the camera zoomed in and you got a good look at the guy putting his thing in her. It was really gross. The rest of the video was just of them doing it. There was lots of groaning and swearing and stuff and then the camera zoomed in again and the guy pulled his thing out and squirted his stuff all over her belly and even her boobs. Uncle Dimitri said what we just saw was called the withdrawal method and that the guy pulled his dick out so his stuff didn't squirt up her pussy and get her knocked up, which I knew meant pregnant. He said the guy also did it so people watching the video could see that they were doing it for real and that he had come, which he said guys watching the movie would find hot. I didn't think it was hot at all and nor did Marcus nor Domi. Sometimes adult stuff is confusing. Most times. The video was sortta interesting in a way though and you did see how big a pussy hole is but none of us really liked it, and it all looked gross to me. So Uncle Dimitri put in a different video, an old one about the one thousand and one Dalmatians, which was a lot more interesting even if we'd all seen it a hundred times.

The movie just started when Uncle Anthony came in looking all worried and sortta mad like he was ready to punch somebody and said he wondered where we'd gone and Uncle Dimitri said he'd brought us to his room so the adults could talk about things and not worry us and that we were watching a Disney movie he had way back when he was a kid if that was all right. Of course Uncle Anthony said it was, and then thanked Uncle Dimitri for doing what he did and he left. A bit later Uncle Alexandros came in and told Uncle Dimitri that there were complications and that they were going down to the hospital so they would be close if anything happened. He said Aunt Sophia was going to take the girls to her house so they could have a nap, and they were going to leave us at Nonna and Nonno's, and Uncle Nikos and Uncle Romano were staying to help look after us.

As soon as everyone left, Uncle Dimitri left us to watch the movie and said he was going to talk to our uncles. The movie was sort of boring like I said so I slipped out to listen and see if they said anything about my mom. I found Uncle Dimitri in Uncle Nikos's room which is right below his and I stayed outside the door and listed. He told Uncle Nikos he had to go to volunteer at the homeless shelter and that Uncle Romano was taking us for ice cream and then to the park, so Uncle Nikos could go spend some time with his girl, which Uncle Dimitri said he knew Uncle Nikos did every Saturday, and that just because his sister was having a baby was no reason he shouldn't be getting some nooky. I don't know what that is but Uncle Nikos sputtered and started to say something, but Uncle Dimitri said he knew what it was like and that he was sixteen once and he turned and started to leave so I hurried back upstairs. None of what they said made much sense but I could tell it made Uncle Nikos mad. Uncle Dimitri does that. A lot.

Anyway, Uncle Dimitri went up to the kitchen and he told Uncle Romano he was going to the homeless shelter to work and that Uncle Nikos was going to play games with us in the family room so Uncle Romano might as well go join his new wife. He said she'd be on her back spreading her legs for the doctor soon enough also and would be worried right now thinking about her first time. He said knowing how much in love they were he wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't already knocked up and that he bet they had one real hot wedding night. I know Uncle Romano didn't like Uncle Dimitri, even more so than my other uncles, and I could tell he was real uncomfortable talking to Uncle Dimitri and sortta mad and was wanting to say something real bad but was biting his tongue as my dad calls it. I don't know why because he usually says whatever he's thinking. I think it was because he was eager to be away and probably was worried about his wife, and so he left right away. Uncle Nikos came upstairs a minute later and seeing Uncle Romano's car was gone he figured we'd gone with him so he hopped on his bike and took off. I know he liked being with his girlfriend and maybe he was eager to have some nooky whatever that is. I scurried back to Uncle Dimitri's room, real worried and scared now.

Returning to his bedroom, Uncle Dimitri asked if we wanted to go get some ice cream and go to a park or something. The ice cream part was fine, but I knew he had lied to Uncle Nikos and to Uncle Romano and I had a bad feeling what was going to happen, and especially about going to a park. Domi and Marcus said yes of course and I couldn't say no so we left and stopped at Dairy Queen where Uncle Dimitri bought everyone double-scoop ice cream cones. I didn't know where we were going after that at first, but as we began driving out of the city I recognized where we were and I knew where we were headed. Lake Chestermere. And I knew where we were going to park, on the west side of the park below the wetlands. My heart rose in my chest and started beating faster and felt like a lump and I got a bad feeling in my stomach. As we got out of the car, we spotted two dogs sniffing each other's butts and between each other's legs, like you always see dogs do.

"That reminds me of a joke," said Uncle Dimitri. "There were two guys sitting on the patio having a beer and the one guy's dog was lying between them. He began licking himself, his fur, and then he raised a leg and twisted around and began to lick his nuts and his dick. The one guy says, 'I wish I could do that.' The dog's owner says, 'Go right ahead if you want, but I'd pat him on the head first to show him you're being friendly first.'"

I snorted. That's not the type of joke an adult tells in front of a kid. It took Domi and Marcus longer to catch on. They laughed and made a face.

"I wonder what a dog's cum would taste like," observed Marcus.

"Sort of coppery and salty," Uncle Dimitri replied. We all looked up at him curiously and surprised, wondering if he read that on the Internet or somewhere, or if he knew first hand for real. We looked over at the dogs again and the one dog tried to mount the other dog, like you see dogs do, but the girl dog didn't want nothing to do with him. He tried several times until she growled at him and they ran off in different directions. "Too bad she wasn't in heat. You didn't get a chance to see them screwing. That's really something to see. When a boy dog sticks his cock in a girl dog, a bump swells up at the base of his cock where it joins his body and the girl dog's cunt grabs the bump real tight so he can't pull his cock back out. They call the bump a knot and when it happens they say the two dogs are tied. When two dogs do it they can get stuck together anywhere from five minutes to half an hour. That's dirty old Mother Nature's way of making sure the boy dog's cock stays in the girl dog and his sperm is squirted inside the girl dog," Uncle Dimitri said as we began climbing the path to the undeveloped part of the park where we'd gone before, where Marcus and Domi had fucked my butt and I was made to suck Uncle Dimitri's cock. I could feel my heart pounding way up high in my chest and I wanted to turn and run but I knew they'd just catch me and drag me with them. I had a real sick feeling in my stomach now and tried desperately to think of someway to stop them.

"So that's so dogs can't use the withdrawal method, huh?" I asked. If I appeared real interested and kept Uncle Dimitri talking maybe that's all we'd do. Or if I showed I was interested he wouldn't do bad stuff to me. I know my parents and my aunts and uncles all tried to be nice to him because they were scared of him too.

Uncle Dimitri laughed, which was a good sign. Uncle Dimitri hardly ever laughs, and when he does, it's a creepy laugh, not a happy one like now. "That's right. You have to be real careful if a dog's been trained to screw women or little boys because a human's cunt or a boy's asshole, isn't strong enough to hold the knot in and a human can get really ripped up when a dog pulls his out." As we left the main path and cut over to the clump of bush they'd taken me before, Uncle Dimitri had a far away look in his eyes, like he was remembering. I got goose bumps on my arms and legs. I'd heard my father and uncles saying he'd been made to do some real bad stuff when he was a kid, but that wasn't bad, that was sick. Way sick. My whole body was covered with goose flesh. I knew I should continue pretending I was interested, but that was too icky.

Uncle Dimitri suddenly crouched down and motioned for us to do so also and to be quiet. We waddled up to where branches had been piled up and he parted the brush and there in the clearing on the other side were two older boys. They had their pants and underwear pulled down and both were stiff. One was measuring his dick and the other was watching and smoking a cigarette. They were concentrating too hard on what the first guy was doing to notice us. Uncle Dimitri backed away and whispered what we would do. We snuck back up to the "fort" and Domi, Marcus and I suddenly leaped into the clearing and shouted. The two boys jumped a mile high and their eyes went wide and they dropped their hands to cover their crotches. Once they got over their surprise and saw who we were, instead of being scared and surprised, they became angry.

"Hey, this is a private place!" said one.

"Yeah. Our place. No little kids allowed."

"Yeah, you little snot-noses. So bugger off. Right now."

"Fuck you," said Marcus. "We got as much right to be here as you do." Marcus was daring that way and didn't hesitate speaking up, way more daring that I was.

"Wow, somebody's got a vulgar mouth. Bet you don't even know what fuck means."

"Maybe we should fuck you to show you the meaning," added the boy who'd been measuring his cock as he moved his hands away from his crotch to reveal his dick. It had gotten soft.

"Yeah, maybe we should just do that," agreed his friend, removing his hands from in front of his crotch and taking a long drag on his cigarette and exhaling it through his nose as he leered at us, acting real big.

"Why are you measuring that worm?" asked Uncle Dimitri as he stepped through the bush, snapping pictures of the two boys with his phone. "Oh, that's not a little worm, that's your dick."

Domi and Marcus laughed. The two older boys had been acting real brave and bossy in front of us when they'd seen how much younger we were than them, but were taken aback confronted by an adult and didn't know what to say. They dropped their hands to cover their privates again, and then raised one hand to cover their faces when they realized Uncle Dimitri was taking pictures of them. He bent over and picked up a magazine laying on the ground between them. It was an adult magazine with pictures of naked women. "So, that's what you two were doing, looking at dirty pictures and playing with yourselves."

"No, we weren't! We . . . we were looking at the pictures, but we weren't playing with ourselves! We were . . . we were just, you know, comparing ourselves," said the boy with the ruler.

"Yeah, that's all. Comparing our sizes, you know."

"Measuring yourselves is cool. . . . So's playing with yourselves," Uncle Dimitri said. He thumbed through the magazine. "And looking at porn. Mmm, mmm! Bet you'd like to fuck this one," he said, holding up a picture of a woman with her head tossed back and thrusting her boobs out. He flicked through a few more pages. "Or get your dick sucked by this one," he said, holding up a picture of a woman with her eyes half closed and licking her lips.

"Oh yeah," said the boy holding the ruler, "I'd love to get sucked off by her." The other one watched Uncle Dimitri closely as he dared to take a drag on his cigarette. "Here look at this one." The first boy took the magazine and flipped through the pages to one with a blond woman sitting with her legs spread. "Bet you'd like to stick your dick up her pussy." They'd sure changed. The boys had been surprised and scared at first when we surprised them and then seeing we were younger than them they had become pushy and had started swaggering and acting real big. Then they were scared again when Uncle Dimitri arrived and figured they were in big trouble with an adult showing up and having their dicks out and smoking and stuff. When Uncle Dimitri didn't get mad and lecture them they were confused at first and when Uncle Dimitri began acting cool and as if what they were doing wasn't bad they began relaxing and started to act big again.

"Not really," said Uncle Dimitri. "I'd rather do you two. You're available right now and your assholes would be a lot tighter than that bitch's slimy pussy." The boys went pale as Uncle Dimitri's tone changed and he gave them that cold look he gives everyone, that look that said he was thinking stuff you don't want to know he's thinking about. "In fact that's exactly what I'm going to do," he said, pulling down his fly and pulling out his dick. It wasn't hard but it was huge, and the two boys stared at it and you could see the fear in their eyes for sure. "Now, you're going to show the four of us a good time, or I'll show these pictures to your parents," he said, holding up his phone. "I'm sure they won't approve of you looking at dirty porn magazines with your pants down, or smoking," he said, looking at the second boy. "Or maybe I should show these pictures to your buddies, see what they think about having two fags for friends who sneak out here in the park and pull down their pants and wank off together."

"We weren't wanking," the boy holding the ruler protested. "We were just comparing! Honest!"

"You think your friends will believe that when they see these pictures?" The boy didn't answer. "How old are you boys?"

"Fourteen," they said.

"Fourteen and a half," said the boy holding the ruler.

"Yeah, me too," said the other.

"What are your names?" The two boys glanced at each other. Uncle Dimitri took one step and slapped the boy holding the ruler hard across the face, causing him to stagger back and giving him a fat lip. "I don't like repeating myself," Uncle Dimitri said. He didn't shout and wasn't angry but his voice was cold as ice. The boy he hit was called Willis. The boy smoking was Drew. "You got your pants down. Pull them right off."

Willis looked at his friend. They were both scared shitless. "No way," Willis replied defiantly though his eyes didn't show that. "We're outta here." He bent over to pull up his underwear and pants.

"Look at that. Bending over for me already, and you say you're not a fag boy," Uncle Dimitri said, stepping behind Willis and wrapping his arms about his waist. "Lucas, pull off his pants and underwear," he ordered, lifting Willis in the air. As I approached, Willis began to kick. Still holding him around the waist with one arm, Uncle Dimitri slipped his other hand down and grabbed his nuts and squeezed. Willis yelped and struggled and Uncle Dimitri squeezed harder and told him to stop. He stopped. Instantly. I stepped forward and pulled off his jeans and his boxers, taking his shoes and a sock off with them. I had no choice.

Looking like he was about to cry, Drew butted out his cigarette with his foot and took off his runners and removed his jeans and underwear while we all watched. Dropping Willis on the ground, Uncle Dimitri opened up this bag he had slung over his shoulder and taking out some tissue he told the two boys to stuff it up their assholes. "No, please, just, just let us go," Willis pleaded, his voice cracking as he looked up at Uncle Dimitri, his eyes wide with fear. Uncle Dimitri grabbed and lifted him in the air and turned him around and slammed him on the ground, hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dropping and sitting on his back with his full weight, he grabbed one of the tissues and poked it up Willis's asshole with his finger, twisted it around, and yanked it out. He was rough. He looked over at Drew.

"Please, no," he pleaded, his eyes wide, almost in tears, as he shook his head. I knew exactly how he felt. My mind flashed back to the day back in May I'd been fucked in this very spot by my two cousins, and how Uncle Dimitri had cleaned out my rectum with a paper napkin first.

"Marcus, Domi." He reached out and the boys took the tissue and turned to Drew.

"All right, all right." Drew took the tissue from them and reached behind and stuffed it up his ass, crinkling up his face and turning bright red. He had to do it. He didn't have a choice. Uncle Dimitri pushed down his own jeans and underwear, and ordered the rest of us to remove ours. We did. Quickly. None of us had a choice.

Taking a tube out of his bag, he squeezed a dollop of grease out on his pointer finger and stabbing it up Willis's butt he greased up Willis's hole, and then he handed it over to Marcus to do Drew's hole. Marcus did, not so roughly, but, I noticed, not that hesitantly either. Uncle Dimitri then ordered Drew to fiddle with Marcus's dick, and Willis to fiddle with mine. Drew slowly and hesitantly reached out and took Marcus's little dink between his thumb and his fingers and rolled it and stroked it. He gently pulled the hood back, revealing Marcus's purple plum and then slowly pulled the skin backup. He knew exactly what to do and I realized he had to have fiddled with his own dink. I noticed that Drew had a hood too. He was embarrassed touching another guy's private part, and he had to feel humiliated, being forced to play with the dink of a boy half his age. He was fourteen, fourteen and a half, and Marcus was seven and a half. My own dink twitched. Watching one guy playing with another guy's dick was arousing, and their age difference made it even more arousing. I don't know why, but it just was. Because it was dirty I suppose. Because it was not allowed. I don't know a lot about sex stuff. But I know how it made me feel. I was feeling aroused. Horny I heard older boys call it.

Willis slowly reached out and took my dink between his fingers and thumb and began to tug on it and to roll it. Like me and Uncle Dimitri he didn't have a hood. I thought back to the day Domi and Marcus had played with my dink, the first time a boy had ever touched me there. I had thought a lot about that since then. Boys aren't supposed to play with their stuff, and they are not supposed to play with another boy's or let another boy play with theirs. I don't know why. It feels good. Having your cock touched that is. And it's sort of fun touching another boy's, and having someone else touch yours. It's one thing that all boys have in common and separates them from girls. A boy knows what it feels like when his cock is rubbed, so he knows how another boy is feeling when he rubs the other boy's cock, and he knows the other boy knows how he is feeling when the other boy fiddles with his cock.

It's dirty and not allowed and a sin and an adult thing and I had felt guilty and ashamed after Domi and Marcus had done mine and I'd done Uncle Dimitri's. But it also felt good, and was exciting, and despite everything, after that day I'd wished another boy would do mine again, and that I could fiddle with another boy's so I could feel that way again. I wanted it to happen, but I felt guilty wanting it to happen too. Now, I was getting my wish. It felt good, like I remembered, but I felt guilty having a body touching me down there too, and even guiltier wanting him to. I looked down at the strange fingers rubbing my dick, tugging on it and bouncing it, fingers that were not my own, and I started to swell, and as my dick began to swell in the older boy's hands, it felt good. Willis soon had me stiff, and Drew had Marcus stiff too.

Then ordering the boys to drop to the ground on their elbows and knees, Uncle Dimitri told me to shove my dick up Willis's butt and Marcus to shove his up Drew's. As I placed the tip of my dick against Willis's asshole and slowly began to push my dick up his ass I thought back to when Domi and Lucas had shoved their cocks up my asshole in this very spot. My asshole had been sore for days after, and for weeks after I could not stop thinking about how it had felt having their dicks stuffed up my rectum. It was frightening and embarrassing even if they were my cousins. What they had done to me was filthy and it was wrong, but it had also felt good in a way, and it was arousing, so arousing that getting my ass fucked gave me an orgasm the very first time I was fucked, and it was my very first orgasm. I'll never forget that, how good it had felt having a guy's dick shoved in and out of my asshole, and how confusing it was feeling so good physically when what we were doing was so filthy and perverted. And I will never forget my first orgasm. Never. I was angry with Uncle Dimitri for weeks afterward, angry for planning and arranging for my two cousins to rape me, angry for him showing me how pleasant it felt getting your ass fucked, showing me how awesome it was to have an orgasm.

I sank my dink up Willis' rectum until my crotch was pressing against his butt and then I slowly drew it back out until my bulb was about to stretch open his anus and then I sank it back in. I knew what it felt like being fucked. Now I knew what it felt like fucking, how Domi and Marcus had felt when they had fucked me. This was better than jacking off, something I could not resist doing since that day Uncle Dimitri and my cousins had introduced me to what it felt like messing around with your cock until you had an orgasm. Guys aren't supposed to do that, and guys won't admit they do, but despite feeling guilty and ashamed afterward, it felt good doing it, and I could not help doing it again. Now I was fucking another guy. A guy four years older than I. And having my stiff cock up a guy's hot, moist asshole felt even better than playing with it with my hand. It felt a lot better. I understood why Marcus and Domi had enjoyed doing it to me, and hadn't thought there was anything wrong doing it to me. I glanced over at Marcus and Drew. Marcus was pumping his hips to and fro and puffing and grunting. He was enjoying it. A lot. He knew how good it felt fucking a guy's ass. He had known three months ago. And Drew was finding out how pleasant it was getting fucked.

I wondered what Willis and Drew were thinking. I had been fucked by my two cousins three years younger than I. Now Drew was being fucked by a boy half his age and Willis by a boy four years younger than he was, four and a half years younger. I figured that had to be embarrassing, being done by someone younger like that. It had been for me. They were being forced to do what I had been forced to do. That was weird. Real weird. As I shoved my cock in and out of Willis's asshole, I remembered how it had felt having a dick up mine. Was Willis feeling as embarrassed as I had felt? As dirty? As scared? As confused? He and Drew were stiff. That meant they had to be enjoying it. I had enjoyed it, and hated myself for enjoying it months later. And I had hated Uncle Dimitri.

Uncle Dimitri told Domi to kneel in front of Drew and he told Drew to suck Domi's dink. Of course he hesitated and I thought back to my own reluctance and revulsion being faced with the demand I suck Uncle Dimitri's dick. I'd done it. I had no choice. And Drew opened his mouth and slipped his lips about Domi's stiff little dick and began to suck it, just as I had sucked Uncle Dimitri's big cock. He had no choice. Uncle Dimitri knelt now in front of Willis, and holding his big dick by the base, he told Willis to begin sucking it. He did. He opened his mouth and slipped his lips over Uncle Dimitri's cock and began to suck. Just like I had. He knew the consequences if he didn't. He had no choice. As he slipped his lips up and down Uncle Dimitri's long, thick cock, I recalled how it had been the day I had been forced to do the same thing. I wondered if he was feeling as humiliated and as filthy as I had. I wondered if he felt like throwing up having a guy's filthy dick in his mouth. It had been a long time before I'd gotten the taste of cock and cum out of my mouth, and I never did get it out of my mind. Would Willis?

My dink was really tingling and I stopped thinking and just fucked, and concentrated on the throbbing and burning between my legs. I was grunting and snorting and so was Marcus, and as he began to jerk and gasp I knew he was having an orgasm, and then mine struck me and I quivered and arched my back as the jolts ripped up my swollen cock. I should not have been mad at Uncle Dimitri. He had introduced me to a pleasure I should have been experiencing for years. I should have been mad at my parents and all adults who kept this pleasure a secret from kids. And then Uncle Dimitri was snorting too and Willis was gagging as Uncle Dimitri shot his stuff down Willis's throat.

I finally pulled my dick out of Willis's ass and Marcus pulled his out of Drew's and the two of us high-fived and then so did Uncle Dimitri and Domi. Willis and Drew stared down at the ground, embarrassed and ashamed. I felt sorry for them and a little ashamed myself for having forced them to do stuff with us. Uncle Dimitri didn't have any such feelings and ordered them to suck each other off at the same time. Sixty-nine he called it, saying that was because when two guys did it they looked like a six and a nine. I didn't know why he was making them do this stuff, and especially to each other, except sometimes you have to be forced to do something to find out how good it really is. Like doing something new and different. Doing stuff with us made us feel good so at least there was some reason for it. I figured Uncle Dimitri wanted them to see it felt good doing each other. Of course they didn't want to do it, but they knew there was no use arguing with Uncle Dimitri. Maybe later they'd think about it and realize they'd liked it. Like me.

So they lay down side by side facing each other but in opposite directions and they took each other's dick, which was soft now, and slipped their lips over them and began to suck, and to slide their lips up and down their shafts just as they'd done us. While we watched, Marcus and I wiped our dicks off with baby wipe. Although Willis and Drew didn't want to suck each other and probably found it disgusting, they could not deny the pleasure they were feeling between their legs and they soon got hard again. It was sort of hot watching them, and that was when I figured out that was probably why Uncle Dimitri had them do it. He wanted us to see them and see how hot it is seeing two boys doing it. He probably also figured when we saw that we'd try doing each other some time. I thought about that, doing it with Domi or with Marcus. Actually, the three of us could probably do it to each other at the same time. Willis and Drew were not related, but they were good friends, and I wondered what they were thinking as they sucked on each other's dick and felt their best friend sucking their own.

Uncle Dimitri told them when they came they were to drink each other's cum and he must have known they were close because soon after that they both began to squirt their stuff in each other's mouth. That was really hot to see. I wondered what cuming feels like when you can squirt and if it was at all like taking a leak, and I wondered just how old a guy was when he was able to squirt. I knew what cum tasted like. I'd tasted Uncle Dimitri's. I wondered what theirs tasted like, and if it was different for each guy or the same, and what they were thinking having their friend squirting his stuff in their mouth while they squirted theirs in his.

Well, I don't know how they were feeling, but I was feeling aroused and so was everyone else so Uncle Dimitri had the two boys get back up on their elbows and knees and this time Uncle Dimitri screwed Drew while Drew sucked my dick, and Domi screwed Willis while Willis sucked off Marcus. I'd sucked off Uncle Dimitri that first time we'd done stuff on my mother's birthday, but this was the first time I'd had my dick sucked. It was very different from fucking. I looked down and watched Drew sucking on my dick and it was arousing seeing him with my dink in his mouth and with his cheeks sunk in as he sucked. I glanced over at Uncle Dimitri's big cock pumping in and out of his ass, and then I looked up at Uncle Dimitri. He had his eyes closed and didn't notice and his face was all screwed up from the pleasure he was feeling I guess. I looked over at Domi and Marcus and they were really concentrating on what they were doing, and the pleasure they were feeling. We were all feeling hot and enjoying the pleasure of having sex, except maybe for Willis and Drew, but they were boys, and had to be feeling some pleasure.

So I looked back down at Drew and thought about the first time I'd had to suck cock and I had an idea now how good it was making Uncle Dimitri feel because having Drew sucking mine felt good. My bulb was tingling and the rim burning and my whole dink was throbbing. I don't know why God made guys so their dicks would feel like that, but I was glad He had. So I knelt there and felt my dink throbbing and itching until it got so strong I could not keep still and began to jerk and twist. At the same time Uncle Dimitri began squirting his stuff up Drew's ass and Domi and Marcus were having an orgasm too.

As we returned to Nonna's and Nonno's nobody spoke. I guess we were all thinking about what we had just done. I was very confused. I had hated being forced to do that stuff by Uncle Dimitri and my cousins, so why had I joined them this time and forced the two boys to do the stuff I'd been forced to do? More important, why had I enjoyed it? I had enjoyed it, not just the physical pleasure, but forcing the two teenagers to have sex with us and with each other. That is not me. I don't like to boss people around and force them to do stuff, not like some bullies I know at school. But I had bullied them, and had enjoyed bullying them. Of course there was the physical pleasure but it was also filthy and I felt dirty while I was doing it, and now, dirty and ashamed, but being a boy meant doing dirty stuff. I had heard one of my aunts saying that, but I don't remember who.

Of course I had been mad and afraid of Uncle Dimitri that first time, and I was afraid of Uncle Dimitri today. I had been mad at him for doing dirty stuff to me and for making me do dirty stuff before, but now I had enjoyed doing it, at least sortta. It felt good and it was exciting and really I should be mad at those who kept sex a big secret and an adult thing and didn't want us to do it. Uncle Dimitri was rough and tough, but he had to have been to show me how wrong the other adults were, and to show the two teenage boys today how good it felt having sex with other guys. I wouldn't have done anything otherwise, and nor would have the two boys today. It was all very confusing.

We had barely arrived back when Nikos returned from visiting his girl and I wondered if he'd gotten any nooky and he had barely arrived back when the rest of the family arrived. They were all very happy and excited and Nonno opened up some wine and poured a drink for everyone, even me and Domi and Marcus, and made a toast. My mother had a baby boy.

The next day, Sunday, we all went to church and gave special thanks for the birth of my baby brother and the health of my mother. We then all went over to the hospital and took turns visiting my mother and looking at my baby brother. Everyone fussed over him and said how handsome he looked and how he had my mother's eyes and my father's nose and stuff. To me he was all red and blotchy and wrinkled and didn't look like anyone. We then went to Chestermere Lake which really gave me a weird feeling. At first I had always looked forward to going, like I said, and then after my mother's birthday I had hated going and dreaded what Uncle Dimitri might do. Now I thought about what I and Uncle Dimitri and my two cousins had done to the two boys and it made my dink twitch. I sort of liked remembering what we had done yesterday. I kept glancing up to where the grove of trees was, and so were Domi and Lucas. Everyone was real happy my mother had a baby and they kept talking about having babies and how blessed it was and stuff but how hard it was for the mothers and everything. They asked my aunt Sophia how she was feeling and she said she was fine and it would be several more weeks yet. She was as big as a boat. Uncle Romano kept looking at my aunt Anna with a strange look, and I noticed Uncle Dimitri kept looking at both of them with a strange look on his face.

Then Uncle Dimitri announced that he had a special gift for me and walked over to his car. He came back with a Black Labrador on a leash. When Dad asked why he had done that, Uncle Dimitri said everyone was going to be fussing over my baby brother now and that I shouldn't feel left out and the occasion should be a special occasion for me too.

"Really, Dimitri, that was very thoughtful of you," Dad said, though he didn't sound that sincere, "but that's a big responsibility for Lucas, and I really don't think now is the time…?"

"Don't worry, he's housebroken already," Uncle Dimitri said, "and really won't require much looking after." Looking at me he added, "he really loves kids and he's started his training, and I'm sure Lucas will see that he finishes it. His name is Sparticus."

I think that's an awesome name.

Chapter 15
Down on the plantation

Story told by a black Crown Prosecutor (unnamed) who is scheduled to prosecute a hockey coach for sexual assault and sexual interference with two of his teenage players.  He is warned to drop the charges and is given a false tip about the lead witness.  He and his family win a four-day course to the Caribbean leaving Mobile, Alabama.  Arriving at Mobile he and his family are taken to a cotton plantation where they work as slaves by day and sexual entertainment by night.

Characters: Prosecutor 42, wife Lisa 42, boys Elias 15 and Samuel (Sammy) 9, Master Jack 23, Dimitri 23, unnamed overseer 35.

Codes: t/W, t/t, m/t, m/b, slavery, interracial, nc.  Caution: derogatory language may be offensive to some.

"So what's with the Yellowtail case? I heard you withdrew the charges."

"Yeah. That's right," George replied.

"What happened? I thought it was an open and shut case?"

"So did I. Until I got an anonymous tip that my key witness was an alcoholic and had offered her daughter's services to pay for her addiction in the past. When I found out that was true there was slim chance her evidence would hold up in court even if she claimed she had changed."

Yellowtail was an aboriginal living on the nearby Blood Reserve, or the Kainai First Nations as they call themselves today, a young, good-looking man with an athletic build and long black braids. He supposedly struck up friendships with lonely white women, women who were in an abusive relationship, women with inattentive husbands, or whose husbands were away from home working elsewhere, or women with husbands who were high on religion and low on testosterone so saw sex as only for procreation, and took care of their sexual needs being neglected by their husbands. That was not a crime, but that his real interest in them was to use them to get to their preteen daughters who he then also bedded was. Women's advocacy groups and child protection groups were all clamouring for his incarceration, but of course the native groups all came to his defence, claiming he was a victim of the residential school scandal though he was too young to have ever been in a residential school and it was more likely his parents' inept parenting that was the cause of his behaviour, which of course came back to the accusation of the residential school movement, a convenient excuse used by the aboriginals for any unacceptable aboriginal behaviour rather than accept responsibility themselves. With reconciliation now being a big ticket nationally and provincially, the natives have become increasingly vocal and demanding, and increasingly irrational. The response to right old wrongs has become just as irrational. Recently a Star Trek fan whose fancy was struck by the fictional race the Borg had a personalized license plate "ASSIMIL8", which was their objective, revoked because some First Nations individual found the word offensive because it reminded him of efforts in the past to force the native population to adopt white culture. Yes, the movement had been wrong looking through today's lenses, but to extend it to a word on a license plate referring to a fictional race of aliens was extreme, and for the bureaucrats to agree with the objector ludicrous.

I'd thought perhaps George had withdrawn the charges because of the recent rash of threats against lawyers, prosecutors or judges who were involved in the prosecution of child pornographers or child abusers. In our profession threats are an everyday occurrence in prosecuting almost every type of criminal activity, but these threats targeted just those crimes involving children and were occurring province-wide in wording that was too similar to be coincidental. Rumour was that even the legendary Judge "Snowball" Breem had been interested in the Yellowtail case until he learned the description of the man. According to the rumour, the judge's own children had been threatened by a Canadian aboriginal but the crusty judge had not backed down so those making the threat had, making the judge even more of a target.

"What about you? I hear you're working on an open and shut case yourself?"

"Yeah, a hockey coach who has been preying on his teenage players, booking them into single hotel rooms on road trips, inviting them over to his home and lavishing them with praise and gifts. You know the scenario."

"Won't organizations ever learn that when you're dealing with kids you need to insist there's always two adults in the same room, and especially during games away from home? And don't parents ever talk to their kids and warn them about these predators and what to look for?"

"From the frequency this happens it doesn't appear that they do. It's the old 'it won't happen to us' attitude."

"Right. Well, good luck to you. Hope your witness doesn't have a secret life like mine did."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Actually, I'd received an anonymous tip myself, one that said my client had been warned that he had to improve his skills or he would be cut from the team, and that he was making up the story of abuse in anger against the coach who had issued the warning and in the hopes that by making a fuss he would not get cut. I'd checked that out thoroughly of course, and the rumour had proven to be false. I'd also been pressured by the management of the hockey team to settle out of court because they didn't want the publicity, and even the boy's parents were dragging their feet and having second thoughts considering the publicity that was going to be generated when their son took the stand. At the moment that was my biggest fear. He was under eighteen at the time and his name was protected from publication of course, but when something as sensational as a coach-hockey player sexual relationship is involved word gets around, and Lethbridge is not that large a city that you can keep something that sensational secret.

The most upsetting threats came from those who used the crime of child abuse to voice their own prejudices and gripes, often opinions that had nothing to do with the case in question. Those began with statements like "Drop the case against Coach Darby and go back where you came from coon." or "There are still places where little nigger boys learn to obey their white master. If you don't want your boys to end up there . . . " Problem was, I was born right here in Lethbridge where I am currently practising law and so were my parents before me, and any talk about slavery or racial superiority makes me so angry I'll do just the opposite in spite. Sadly, today with the rise of right extremists and racial agitators such comments are becoming more and more common, and more and more violent. What the writers of the letters didn't realize was that they were strengthening my resolve to put molesters like Coach Darby in jail for as long as I can.

The last day of August, two days after my conversation with my colleague, my wife and I and our two boys boarded a plane for Mobile, Alabama, three weeks after the disastrous rally of the alt-right, KKK and neo-Nazi groups and their confrontation with anti racist groups in Charlottesville, Virginia. Considering the mood in the country we were hesitant to make the trip, but it was precisely events such as that, that got my ire up and made me do just the opposite of what would be expected. Nobody had a right to dictate what I was going to do or prevent me from enjoying my life. We had received the notice announcing we had won a promotional four-day Western Carribean cruise out of Mobile by World Travel Fantasy Tours and had checked it out and found out it was not a scam. My wife and I were both working hard to provide a decent life for ourselves and our boys and deserved a break, and I particularly could use the break before the Darby case came up. There was also another reason. My wife's grandparents lived in Mobile and we had considered sending our boys Elias and Sammy there for a visit and to stay until the Darby trial was over. Nobody would be able to hurt them if they couldn't find them.

Arriving at the Mobile airport at one, we were met by the driver of the World Travel Fantasy Tours shuttle to take us to the ship, which was to depart at four. Having never been to Alabama, we all stared out the window at the passing scenery as we left the airport and speeded along the freeway. I was impressed how fertile the area was and how well maintained and litter-free the freeway was. The parkway was a deep green and the grass neatly trimmed, and the forest beyond was dense and lush. The second thing to strike me was how sparsely populated the countryside was and how poor. The homes were small, dilapidated shacks of scrap wood and metal sheeting squeezed in amongst the trees, the yards small and cluttered and littered with garbage and broken-down vehicles, with usually a clothesline of laundry in the background. As we began passing large expanses of cotton fields with no sign of the city in sight, I began to worry. When I inquired I was assured that the driver knew where he was going and that everything was all right.

We turned off the freeway a few minutes later, and off the paved secondary road onto a dirt road a few minutes after that. We travelled beside a tall chain-linked fence covered with vines and topped by strands of barbed wire pointing in toward the enclosure as if to keep whatever was inside in rather than to keep those on the outside from entering. We finally were admitted through a barred gate with a gatehouse and armed guards. This definitely was not right. When the shuttle bus stopped and we were told we had arrived, I protested that the driver had made a mistake and this was not the right place.

"Oh, this is the right place for your kind," our driver said, taking off his sunglasses and looking at me. He had jet black hair and a dark, olive complexion giving me the impression he was Mexican or perhaps Columbian. His eyes were sharp blue and cold as ice and though he was looking directly at me I got the impression he wasn't actually seeing me and was thinking of something totally unrelated. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

The door opened. "Out," gruffly demanded a man in his mid-thirties waiting outside, motioning with the rifle in his hands. We got out.

"What is going on–?" I began to ask. The man slammed the butt of his rifle in my gut, knocking the wind out of me and causing me to double over. He spun the rifle around and struck me on the back of the head, sending me sprawling face first on the ground.

"Slaves speak only when they're spoken to, boy," he said sharply.

"Slaves?" asked my wife as I began to pick myself up. He slapped her face, hard, the force causing her to stumble backward. Sammy stood there in shock, unable to move, his eyes wide with fright. Elias stepped between my wife and the man, uncertain and frightened but at the age of fifteen ready to defend his mother.

"And what do you think you're going to do, Sambo?" When Elias didn't reply the man laughed and hacking up a mouth of spittle, spat in his face. He stood there, spit hanging from his eyebrows, nose and chin, too shocked to move, to even wipe his face.

"These niggers are the special property of Squire S," said a man behind us. "He would not be pleased if you damaged his property." He was an older man, late fifties or early sixties, thick, curly white hair, face tanned and seamed and weathered, a man who spent a lot of time outdoors in the sun. A moment of fear crossed the face of the man with the rifle but he quickly recovered. He was wearing a khaki shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khaki trousers with highly polished black boots almost up to the knees and a thick leather belt from which hung a hunting knife in a leather sheaf and what looked like a riding crop. The man who had just spoken looked like he had just stepped out of the eighteenth century, stiffly starched white shirt, bow tie, felt top hat, brown suede jacket with a wide lapel and brown trousers, spats and a bronze-coloured vest.

"That's quite all right," the shuttle driver said as he stepped out of the shuttle. "Sometimes rough treatment is needed, especially with foreigners and jungle bunnies who don't understand their place."

"Sorry, sir," said the man with the rifle, now definitely frightened and bowing his head deferentially. "I didn't realize–."

"Squire S wished to collect his property himself, and of course had to blend in with the citizens." The older man turned to our driver. "You've arrived just in time for pre-dinner cocktails."

The younger man bowed his head respectfully. "Delightful. With your leave, I will wash up and change into something more appropriate first." He turned and looked at the man with the rifle. "See to it that they're properly clothed, lodged and fed. Cabin twelve B?" he asked the other man.

"As you requested."

"If they need any convincing, don't hesitate. Just make sure the bruises aren't visible," he said to the man with the rifle.

"As you wish, sir," he said with another differential bow.

Squire S and the older man turned and headed toward a large, colonial mansion typical of many in the south, and from the looks of it, not a modern replica. Confused, shocked, and frightened, we were escorted between two rows of rough shacks, each one having two doors with a large number between them crudely painted in whitewash. A dozen or more individuals were sitting or standing outside each shack. None of them were white. We stopped at cabin 12. The man and woman and five children sitting outside, all black, immediately stood upon our approach and the man with the rifle motioned for the adults to follow us. As we continued, several other men, white and armed, saw us and followed. At the end of the two rows was a platform roughly two metres high with a ladder in the back, a hole in the centre and a hand pump at the top of a long pipe. The man with the rifle motioned to the black man and he climbed up the ladder.

"Strip," the man ordered, looking at my wife.

"You have to be jo–."

He slapped her face, hard, again, and as I stepped forward he rammed the butt of the rifle between my legs, causing me to drop to my knees.

"Do as he says," said the woman who had accompanied us softly, "or one of them will rip your clothes off and grope you before the children besides and you'll be left with nothing but a pile of useless rags."

Lisa looked at the white men watching and knew from the looks in their eyes and the leers on their faces that the woman spoke the truth, and that she had no choice. Avoiding looking at me or the boys, she removed her clothing amongst the hoots and cheers of the white men watching. My boys' eyes were wide with fear and they stared at the ground in embarrassment as their mother stripped until she stood there naked in front of them. One of the men said something about enjoying seeing fresh dark meat, and the man with the rifle told him to enjoy the sight but that was all he was going to get as Lisa was the property of a special guest, Squire S. Squire S was evidently well known, or his reputation anyway as the men glanced around apprehensively. Naked, Lisa stood under the platform with a bar of lye soap and the man above began to pump until water splashed down and through the hole. The men gaped and nudged each other and made lewd comments. At forty-two and after two children, my wife still had a good body.

"Raise those arms and wash your hair, bitch. Show us your pits," called one of the men.

Lisa of course ignored him, until the man with the rifle approached and told her to do as the man had ordered her. She slowly raised her hands and soaped her hair and the men hooted and cheered and commented on her boobs and her ass. Her ears and mine were burning and our sons were blushing.

"Spread those legs and give your pussy a good soaping," called another.

I stood there and fumed but knew there was nothing I could do. When she was done, I was ordered to strip next. I did so, trying to ignore the fact I had an audience including another woman besides my wife and trying to block out the comments.

"What the fuck is it with these coons? Everyone one of them is hung like King Kong."

"That's why their women are so hot. They can't get enough screwing when they can get that shoved between their legs."

"Nature's way to ensure they keep breeding and producing more coons," observed another.

"Make sure you wash your ass crack especially well," called one of them to the amusement of the rest.

As I stepped out from under the shower, the boys stripped, staring at the ground in shame and embarrassment, and in fear.

"Even their fucking little brats are hung like apes," one of them said as the boys walked over to the shower.

"Walk like apes too."

"Gives a man something to hang onto when he's fucking their little black asses," observed another and the others laughed.

"Same reason they got big ears," said another. "Gives a man two handles to hold onto when those thick nigger lips go down on his cock."

The boys showered and joined me and their mother. The entertainment over, the white men drifted away and the woman who had accompanied us to the shower led us back to cabin twelve, still dripping wet and naked, as her husband collected our clothes and took them somewhere. We were given coarse sack cloth to dry off with and we put on the clothes which had been left for us, coarse tank tops and loose, coarse trousers with button flies and suspenders, a floppy wide-brimmed straw hat, and thongs for me and the boys; a loose-fitting, coarse dress that wasn't much more than a sack with holes for the arms and head, a kerchief and thongs for Lisa. None of us had underwear.

The woman cooked supper for both her family and for us, a large pot of grits, which we ate with slabs of bread. None of us had grits before and as we picked at the tasteless bowl of gruel we were told to eat up because it was the only meal we'd get until this time tomorrow, and it would be the same.

Her husband had returned and he and she introduced themselves and their five children, who ranged from the oldest, a girl of fifteen, the same age as Elias, to the youngest, a boy of seven, two years younger than Sammy. The boy, and a girl of eleven, I noticed, were of much lighter colour than the other children and their parents.

"What is this place?" Lisa asked.

"A cotton plantation," the woman said.

"A slave plantation," her husband said.

"You're kidding," Lisa and I said. The looks on their faces said they were not.

"How long have you been here?"

They glanced at each other. "Sixteen years."

"Sixteen! Your children were all born here?" They nodded. "You, you must have been–."

"Sixteen," the woman said. She looked much older than thirty-one, much older, and so did he. Sixteen! A year older than Elias.

As the women washed up the few dishes, we continued to talk. The man said he and his wife had been picked up in the slums of New Orleans sixteen years ago along with several others. They didn't know each other but they were paired up and forced to have sex together until he had gotten her pregnant. They considered themselves husband and wife though they had never been officially married. After their first child they were forced to have sex together every night until she became pregnant again. Two exceptions had been made in the cycle of birth and impregnation. I was right, the youngest boy and the eleven-year-old girl were children of one of the white slave owners.

The name of the plantation owner he did not know but he was a white supremist and a member of the KKK. He entertained his friends here and gave them access to the slaves to act out their fantasies. There were, he estimated, close to fifty adults and twice as many children living in the two rows of cabins. When they entered their teens, many of the children were sent away and never seen again, and occasionally an entire family was sent away and a young, childless couple was brought in to begin raising a family. They did not know where these people went to, but they figured there were other secret plantations in Alabama and probably the surrounding states and they were sent to work on them. Squire S they both knew. He had been a frequent guest at the plantation at one time, for a year or two, but hadn't been seen for a long time. It was difficult to keep track of time on the plantation, but they figured it had to have been at least nine months. Everyone knew him, or of him. He was a sadist of the cruelest nature, a boy lover, and, they both said, a man with no soul. It was said he was a famous Hollywood movie star, or a wealthy hip hop singer, or the spoiled son of a cartel drug lord in Columbia. If we were his personal property it did not bode well for us, and, they confided out of their hearing range, our two boys.

The sun was setting and we turned in with the warning that tomorrow would be a long, difficult day for us. Our room, 12B, was perhaps five metres wide and five metres long. There were four straw mats, a rough table, two stools, a bench, a washbasin and stand, a wooden chest, and a stack of blankets. The other room, 12A, was identical but had three additional mats. The table had a mason jar with wild flowers. Between the two rooms and joining them together was a common kitchen, consisting of nothing more than a stove, a sink with a slop bucket, shelves for our dishes, and a cupboard for storing our food. One corner was draped off and behind the drape was a chair with a hole in the seat and a bucket underneath, our bathroom.

Lisa and I talked about what had happened. The cruise prize was obviously fake but why it had been sent to us, and by whom, was a mystery. The flight to get us here had not been cheap. How we were going to get out of this we had no idea. The straw mattresses were lumpy and uncomfortable, and even covered with the coarse blankets they were scratchy. I'd barely fallen asleep when I was awakened by a noise in the room adjoining ours, two men ordering the man to get out. From the shuffling I assumed that he did, and from the sounds that followed I could only arrive at one conclusion–the two men had their way with his wife and with his oldest daughter, the two of them side by side on the straw mats, in the presence of the other children. I could think of no other explanation for the masculine grunting and snorting and the feminine gasping and groaning and other sounds of straining that commenced next door, followed by grunting and heavy breathing of first the two men and eventually the heavy breathing of their two partners, increasing in volume and speed and concluded by snorts and grunts of pleasure, and finally the zipping of zippers and the departure of the two men. It was a very long time before I fell asleep again.

I had barely done so when we were awakened by the woman and her husband. The sun was just breaking the horizon. We got dressed in the semi-dark and used the toilet. To my dismay there was nothing to wipe ourselves. We were lined up outside where a dozen white men herded us down the road to the plantation where we were given large sacks and where we picked the cotton balls from the plants. I know there are machines to do the work today, but this owner preferred manual labour, from black slaves, and I suspect the reason was not economically driven. Husbands and wives and children, boys and girls, the youngest perhaps six, worked side by side as the sun rose, pausing every hour to line up at a wooden barrel for a dipper of water, everyone using the same metal dipper and drinking eagerly and desperately. Sweat beaded on our foreheads and dripped down into our eyes and trickled from our pits down our sides. Our rough shirts and Lisa's rough dress turned dark with sweat and clung to our skin. Our mouths became so parched we could not speak, and our hands became cut and raw from the barbs on the cotton bolls.

Midday the elderly man we'd seen the previous night, the owner of the plantation, and two other men came out to check on us, all dressed like they'd stepped out of the eighteenth century. One of the other men was the Squire S whose property we were, and the other, a handsome young buck of about the same age, I learned was Master Jack, the grandson of the owner. The Alabama sun beat down relentlessly. It had to be close to forty degrees Celsius. We worked until our limbs were aching and we could barely move them and our fingers were raw and bleeding, and then we dragged ourselves back to our cabin where the man and I hauled water from the shower pump to our cabin and the women cooked a pot of grits and the oldest girl in the adjoining cabin and Elias dragged themselves up to the big house to get today's ration of yesterday's leftover baked bread from the black cook while we two men hauled the slop pail under the sink and the waste bucket from the toilet to a field being prepared for new cotton plants. The woman next door applied a salve to our cut and blistered fingers and hands. We ate numbly and unspeaking and stumbled into bed in the sweaty, grimy clothes we'd worn all day. The back of mine stuck to my crack where I'd been unable to wipe. I fell into a dead sleep until I was shaken awake sometime later and half dragged and half shoved off the mat I was sleeping on beside Lisa.

"Want to throw him out?" asked a man towering above me.

"No. Let the coon stay," said the other man. "I want him to see what I meant about nigger boys obeying their white masters when their fathers don't heed good legal advice." His voice was calm but cold and cut through me like a knife. He knelt down between Elias and Sammy.

With obvious experience and taking advantage of our weariness and grogginess having been awoken from a deep sleep, the first man drew Lisa's dress up to her armpits and grabbed her breasts. Although groggy with sleep and sore from the day's labour, I lunged at him and pulled him off her.

"Damn, stinking jungle bunny, put your filthy black hands on me, will you?" he snarled. Pulling out his riding crop he struck me across the face with the handle.

"No bruising where it shows," said the other man. "Let's take him outside."

The two of them grabbed me and dragged me outside. Pulling off my tank top and spinning me around, the first man struck me across the back with the whip of the riding crop and I arched my back with the pain as the rawhide cut into my flesh. He struck me three more times in rapid succession.

"No, stop!" cried Lisa from behind me.

"Touch me again you black bastard and you'll get another six," the man said, spinning me around and kneeing me in the crotch.

As I crumbled to the ground, I recognized him as the individual I'd seen that afternoon, Master Jack. He and the other man dragged back into the cabin and I was dumped on the floor.

"Take your dress right off, bitch, and be quick about it."

"Please. Whatever you say," Lisa said, her voice trembling as she pulled off her dress. "Just don't hurt my husband anymore. And not in front of the boys."

"Don't you worry none about the boys," said the other man. "I'll see that they're kept occupied."

The other man I realized was Squire S and my heart leaped in my chest. Grabbing my wife and dragging her to the mattress and pushing her down on it, Master Jack dropped down on top of her and began to roughly squeeze her breasts as if he were milking a cow and squirmed down and licked the nipple of her right tit and then sucked on it.

"Now you watch closely," Squire S said to Sammy. "What you're going to see is what your daddy did to your mommy to make you. If you're lucky maybe this very night Master Jack and your mommy will make a little brother or sister for you." He reached over and slipped the suspenders off Elias's shoulders and began to pull off his trousers. "And you watch your big brother closely," he said to Sammy, "because tomorrow night I'll expect you to do what he's going to do for me tonight."

"No! Don't–." Master Jack pressed his lips against Lisa's mouth, cutting off what she was going to say, and groped her between the legs. She squirmed and struck him with her fists, causing him to roll her over and slap her buttocks hard, repeatedly. "Like to play rough do you bitch? Well so do I, cunt. Now shut up and pay attention to me, not your son."

I began to get up. Squire S kicked out, the toe of his boot connecting with my balls, and I curled up in pain and gasping for breath.

"You make another move and you're going to find the handle of Master Jack's riding crop up your black ass, coon. And then I'll pull it out and make your son lick it clean." His voice was cold and calculating. That was not a threat. It was a statement of fact.

So I laid there curled up in pain as the man they called Master Jack spread my wife's legs and roughly and savagely mounted her and as the man they called Squire S had my oldest son lay on his back beside his mother and spread and raise his legs and knelt between them and mounted him. I lay there helplessly as I listened to the white master's snorting and grunting and my wife's sharp intake of breath as he penetrated her. It had to be painful being penetrated without any lubricant or any foreplay, and her mental anguish being raped by a stranger and in front of her husband and her two sons had to be even more painful than her physical pain. And both she and I were forced to listen to the grunting and snorting of the man who claimed to own us and the straining of our eldest son as the man tried to penetrate him, using only his spittle for lubricant. The man was well hung, better than most, a good two hand widths in length and three fingers thick, and Elias had to be tight having never had his ass penetrated before. The man told him to push out as if he were taking a shit and I heard him groan and gasp for breath as he did so. It had to hurt terribly but he did not cry out and instead suffered bravely, trying his best to be a man.

The tiny room was filled with the sound of laboured breathing, that of the two men, my wife, and my eldest son as they paused, the two men to catch their breath and relish the achievement of having sunk their cocks up the bodies of the two people I deeply love, my wife and son recovering from the strain of being roughly penetrated. The two men allowed their breathing to return to normal and their lust to subside so their pleasure would last that much longer.

"There ain't nothing better than new dark meat, even if it has been used before me," observed Master Jack. "That don't matter shit. Black women can't get enough of a man's cock no matter how often they've been fucked."

"I hear the males are randy the moment they've popped out of the womb. Look at this little pickaninny. He's stiff as a nail."

"Lord, look at the size of his spike! I'll never understand why the Lord endowed these porch apes as he has." I glanced over at Elias. He'd been a toddler the last time I'd seen his penis, and it had been soft. Now I looked at his cock at the age of fifteen, and stiff. He was well hung, at least fourteen centimetres. It was a shock. A father never thinks of his son as being a sexual being. Not even when he is fifteen.

"Question in my mind is which has turned him on, watching his momma getting penetrated, or getting his little black ass penetrated. Which one is it, boy?" Elias of course didn't answer. His eyes were clenched shut and his cheeks streaked with tears, tears of pain and tears of humiliation. He had been penetrated by another male in front of his mother and father and his kid brother. Squire S laughed, not a laugh of humour but a cold, cruel laugh, as he began fucking my boy and the plantation owner's son began humping my wife. Sammy and I lie there listening to the rhythmic and moist slapping of flesh and the rhythmic breathing of the two couples. I could close my eyes, and I noticed Sammy had, but neither of us could close our ears. As I listened, I recalled the sounds from the previous night. The same two men? It had to be. Giving us a preview of what to expect tonight. I could hear the sounds as clear as a bell now, as I was sure those in the room adjoining ours could hear the sounds from our room tonight. That meant I had not heard two men and the man's wife and eldest daughter. It had to have been his wife and one of his boys.

"You know, this bitch is working her cunt in time with my thrusts and it's getting hotter and juicier by the second. God these bitch coons are hot for it," observed Master Jack, interrupting my thoughts.

"As randy as the beasts in the field," agreed Squire S. "Every time I thrust my prick up this boy's ass his little jigger jerks and wags, just like the tail of a pleased little puppy."

The two men thrust their hips to and fro in unison as they knelt there fucking side by side. It was a hot night and I could see the sweat beading on their backs and trickling down their ribs in the moonlight shining in through the wide cracks in the walls of the room. It was close to being a full moon. Elias's body was tense, his eyes tightly closed and his lips pressed tightly together as he fought the pain up his ass and the even greater pain in his mind, and his fists were clenched in anger and agony. He could block out the sight of what was happening to his mother, but he could not block out the fact that he and his mother were lying side by side and being raped, nor the vulgar comments and racial insults of the two men.

Suddenly he began to spurt. His stiff penis wagged and jerked as spurt after spurt of semen erupted out of it and he gasped and whimpered as he lay there with his legs in the air and his penis aimed at his naked body. He had obviously been trying to hold it back but could no longer and he trembled as his hot, teenage cum spattered his heaving chest and stomach. He had to be devastated coming as a result of being fucked and in front of his mother and father and little brother. I found myself wondering perversely if this was his first ejaculation. It was a vulgar thought for a man to have about his son. Elias was fifteen. He had to have at least experimented with masturbation. Kids do in this day and age. We'd never had a father-son talk. It was a little late for that now I thought wryly.

"Fuck! Look at this! This little pickaninny got so hot getting his ass fucked he's creamed himself," laughed Squire S. "Spattered his cream all over himself. And here comes mine up his black ass!"

"And here comes mine too," grunted Master Jack. The two men grunted and panted and groaned with pleasure as they ejaculated, the one filling my wife's womb with his slime and the other filling my son's rectum with his. They knelt there motionlessly and again the cramped, stuffy room was filled with heavy breathing of the two men revelling in their ejaculation, and with the heavy breathing of my wife and son, their bodies filled with the cum of the two men.

The men finally got to their feet, pulled up their underwear and trousers, and zipped their flies as they left the room. As their footsteps faded away, I crawled over to the my wife and son. Lisa pulled away from my touch, and so did Elias. I backed over to Sammy who sat there shivering, his head bowed and his eyes clamped shut, his cheeks streaked with tears.

As we rose in the morning, the family beside us averted their eyes. Our visitors had not tried to be discrete, and the walls were not insulated. They had to have heard everything, just as they had to know we'd heard everything the night before. They didn't say anything but you could see their sympathy and their empathy in their eyes. The hardest to take was the look on the faces of their children, and on the faces of my two sons. I worked extra hard that day and didn't care how scratched and pricked my fingers and arms got, inflicting as much pain on myself as I could to compensate for the pain my family had felt the night before. Neither Lisa nor Elias said anything all day, nor during supper or that evening. Exhausted and defeated, we all went to bed as the sun set. I remembered what Squire S had said, and I suspect Sammy did too. The minutes ticked by and I try as I could I could no longer stay awake and finally fell asleep. A mind play. An empty threat. He was as cruel as they had said. It had to be after midnight when I woke to the sound of footsteps outside our door and my heart sank. So did Sammy's I'm sure.

"On your knees and elbows tonight, bitch," ordered Master Jack as he pulled down his fly. "We're going to do it in your favourite position, from behind, like your husband does you, like monkeys do each other."

"You too, boy," Squire S said, addressing me as he unzipped and pushed down his trousers and his underwear. "Remove your trousers and roll over on your knees and elbows too. Master Jack came up with the brilliant idea that I do you as he does your wife tonight. Sorry, boy," he said, addressing Sammy. "You're going to have just watch tonight."

So I removed my trousers and got to my knees and elbows. I knew resistance was futile. I thought of the fictional Borg. Lisa was forced to crawl under me and to lick my asshole, and to work up several mouthfuls of saliva and press her lips against my anus and blow her spittle up my rectum. It was sick and foul. I remembered how my trousers had stuck to me and that we had no wipe and I gagged with just the thought. I cursed myself as I heard Lisa gag in response to my gagging. I could not imagine how foul it had to taste and how hard she had to be fighting not to puke. Resistance is futile. At the same time I was forced to bow my head and lick her vulva. I ran my tongue over her outer lips and up and down the slit between them and wormed my tongue inside. I did so forcefully, deliberately, hoping it would bring her pleasure, hoping it would distract her from the foul task they were making her perform. I sought her clit in desperation and she jerked suddenly when my tongue found it.

The men laughed, saying we were no better than a pair of mongrels and Squire S said when they tired of us he knew someone who owned a pair of dogs that Master Jack could borrow to fuck us. They debated which tasted better, my black asshole or her black cunt, or if there was a difference, and they forced our two boys, who had laid there pretending not to be aware of what was going on, to sit up and watch us and to tell them which they thought tasted better. Of course the two boys meekly said they did not know, to which Squire S suggested that tomorrow they'd let the two of them lick us and give us their answer, which Master Jack found particularly amusing. I sucked and licked harder and Lisa tensed and thrust up her hips as I savagely attacked her clit. Master Jack called me a regular muff-diver and filthy pervert and pulled me off my wife. I'd quit anyway when I'd realized what I had done in my zeal to bring her pleasure to distract her. God, what must Elias be thinking of me!

Forcing my wife and me to get on our knees and elbows side by side, the two men mounted us, Master Jack thrusting his cock up my wife's vagina and Squire S thrusting his cock up my rectum while our two boys were forced to sit in the corner and watch. Master Jack observed how hot and juicy I had gotten my wife's cunt and mused if that was how I normally got her hot when the two of us did it. Squire S similarly observed that Lisa had loosened up my asshole with her tongue and that another reason God had given nigger women thick lips was so they could suck their husband's assholes when they got too swollen with child to be fucked. Elias and Sammy sat there absorbing every word.

Lisa of course said nothing as she knelt there on her knees and elbows and stared at the wooden floor, Master Jack's cock once again thrusting in and out of her vulva. He grasped her hips and banged his crotch against her, caring only for his own pleasure, and from his laboured breathing he was finding much pleasure. Humiliated and ashamed, I tried to block everything out as Squire S thrust his cock in and out of my body, but I could not block out my embarrassment and shame nor the grunting and panting of the man beside me, nor the laboured breathing of my wife. Nor could I block out the fact our two sons were watching the two of us kneeling there side by side like two dogs and getting raped. I wondered what they were thinking. The previous night they had to have been frightened and perplexed. I wondered if tonight Elias was thinking about last night and how it had felt having a man's rigid, throbbing cock up his ass, the same cock as the one up his father's ass tonight. I wondered if Sammy was wondering what it was like, and was relieved he had been given a reprieve for tonight. I felt filthy and perverted and could not imagine the two men being able to do anything worse to us. I focussed on the two of them, on my hate for them, on the joy I would find in strangling them. You read how torture or the brutality of war can snap a man's mind, and as I knelt there being raped before my family and along with my wife I concentrated on which would be my preferred way of murdering them. Eventually Lisa was gasping and panting as loud as Master Jack with her arousal and her approaching orgasm, interrupting my thoughts. No matter what her mind was thinking her body had no choice but to respond to the stimulation between her legs.

"Listen to the fucking bitch enjoying it," said Master Jack. "Don't matter to you coons whose cock is between your legs as long as you have one there, does it?" Lisa tried to stifle her noise but could not. I wondered what Elias and Sammy were thinking as they listened to their mother. They could not possibly think she was enjoying being raped. Elias was fifteen. He had to know better. Sammy was just nine though. He would only be starting sex ed in school this fall, and I'm sure they didn't teach anything about pleasure at any grade level. They certainly didn't teach what he was witnessing.

"Same for you isn't it, boy? Having a cock shoved up your ass has boned you up just like it did your boy last night. Shit, when it comes to sex you coons like wild animals. Don't even matter if you're rutting with a man or a woman." Again, Elias had to know better, but what did Sammy know about erections? Did he even know what they were before this weekend? I certainly hadn't at the age of nine.

I could not deny having an erection, not because I was enjoying what was happening to Lisa and me but because I could not help it. Each time the man's glans brushed against a spot up my rectum it brushed against something, my prostate I think if I remember basic male anatomy correctly, which sent a shock of arousal up my penis and caused it to jerk beyond my control. As my wife began to jerk and buck uncontrollably with her orgasm, I felt the cock of the man inside me throb and his cum begin to spurt deep up my bowels. I could not help myself. I quivered and jerked with my own orgasm and my semen spurted out of my cock and spattered the straw mattress beneath me. It caught me by surprise. I was no fifteen-year-old boy. I was a grown man. The fact remained, I had ejaculated. It had to have been difficult for my boys to comprehend their forty-five-year-old father being fucked by a man half his age, never mind to see their father ejaculating as a result of it. I could not comprehend it. I felt the heat of my cheeks as my blood rushed to my face in embarrassment and humiliation.

Having gotten their pleasure, the two men pulled their cocks out of Lisa and me with a satisfied sigh and stood up. They pulled up their trousers and underwear in silence, zipped their pants back up, and left. Lisa and I collapsed on our stomachs where we were, abused and used, humiliated and ashamed. The spot under my stomach was slimy and cold. I knew I was going to have to speak to Elias and Sammy about this, but not then, not with my rectum full of another man's semen and having seen their mother raped for the second night in a row. I went to the toilet but could not have a bowel movement. I could feel the slime oozing out of my anus when I tried, but I could not bring myself to reach behind and feel to be sure it was not just imagination.

The next day the four of us dragged ourselves out of bed and plodded off for the fields and mindlessly worked beside each other and beside the other slaves, nobody talking, everybody listless. My arms and legs were so sore and stiff I could barely move them, but my physical pain was nothing compared to my feelings of frustration and anger, and my feelings of helplessness and humiliation. My wife had been raped, twice now, and I and my eldest son had been raped along side her, and there was nothing I could have done to have prevented her rape nor ours, and nothing I could do now to stop it from happening to us again, or to my youngest son. What sort of man was I? What were my wife and sons thinking of me? I could not even talk to them about what had happened. As the sun began to set, we dragged ourselves back to the cabin and I and the man living in the room adjoining ours cut wood for the kitchen stove, our wives cooked up another pot of grits, one of their children and Sammy walked up to the big house for our daily loaf of day-old discarded bread, and their oldest girl and Elias fetched a pail of water to wash up and wash our dishes. We ate in silence and went to bed in dread. We dropped off to sleep immediately we were so exhausted but we knew we would not be allowed to sleep the night.

They came earlier this night, smelling of whisky and in high spirits. This time the overseer, the man with the rifle I'd met upon my arrival, accompanied them. To my surprise, they aroused Elias, who was so exhausted he'd fallen asleep eating his supper, and he stumbled listlessly behind Master Jack and Squire S as they took him into the kitchen, leaving the overseer at the door.

"Where are they taking my son?" Lisa asked defiantly. Despite her weariness and all she had gone through, she was a mother first and prepared to defend her cub.

"Anyone give you permission to speak, coon?" the overseer asked. There were low voices coming from the other room, orders, protests and pleas, too low to make out but recognizable by their tone, followed by the crack of Master Jack's riding crop, a scuffle and several more cracks and then silence. Lisa was on her feet and moving. The overseer blocked her and tossed her to the floor. I was on my feet and the overseer's whip was out and cracked, the tip just barely striking my chest and leaving a hole in the cloth. "I've been wanting to do that the moment I laid eyes on you, boy. Give me an excuse to do it again." He looked down at Lisa. "Got permission to take the whip to you too if you give me any trouble momma monkey."

"On your knees and unbutton his trousers and suck his cock," said a voice from the kitchen. Master Jack's voice. There was a shuffling. Who was sucking who? Elias sucking the man from the next room? I didn't even know his name. Or was the man sucking Elias. It couldn't be Elias sucking Squire S. Squire S would have demanded it himself. Two men chuckling. There was no question who they were. "That's it. Slip those thick, cock-sucking nigger lips about his cock and get him hard," said Master Jack. "That's the way. Hard to tell which one is enjoying it the most isn't it." The voice of Squire S. There could be no mistaking it. Master Jack snickered. "They're niggers. They're both enjoying it." The two men laughed and fell silent. We listened to the obvious sound of one person sucking another.

"You coons don't take long to get stiff, do you?" observed Master Jack. "Stand up and spread your legs. Wider." There was the unmistakable slap of a hand across a buttock. Who was he speaking to? "Okay, go ahead, boy. You know where to stick your cock." Everyone here was boy. He could just as easily be ordering the husband next door as he could Elias. Or, I suddenly realized, one of their two boys. One was seven, the other around thirteen. When that possibility came to my mind, I realized that was a more likely scenario. So had he ordered one of the boys to suck Elias and was now ordering Elias to fuck the boy, or was it the other way around, he had ordered Elias to suck one of the boys and was now ordering one of them to fuck Elias? "What's the matter, don't you know how?" came the question with amusement. "You want maybe we bring your daddy in here to show you where your dick goes? Or maybe you'd like your momma to come in here and guide your dick in for you." He had to be talking to Elias . . . or one of the boys from the next room. "Now, that's much better."

I strained to hear what was going on, and I knew Lisa was too. The slightest whisper, a telltale movement, anything that might reveal who was in the next room with Elias and who was fucking whom. The grunting, the strained groaning, the snorting and heavy breathing, the shuffling of feet. I never realized how animalistic sex sounded when two people joined. I wondered if Lisa and I sounded like that when I penetrated her and we made love at home. Of course that was love and not forced rape, but it was still penetration. I strained to hear Elias's voice, to determine if he was the one doing the penetration or the one being penetrated. If it was the father, his voice would be deeper. The seven-year-old would be high pitched, like a child. I couldn't recall if I'd ever heard the thirteen-year-old speak, but surely I'd tell the difference between him and Elias. Lisa would.

"That's it. I knew the two of you could do it. Now don't that feel great?" Master Jack again. "Don't it?" he asked again, followed by the unmistakable slap of a hand against a buttock. "Yes," came the reluctant whispered reply. That sounded like Elias, I think. It didn't tell me who he had penetrated. Or if someone had penetrated him I realized. "And you? You like it?" Master Jack asked the other participant. The reply was in the affirmative, barely audible and accompanied by a stifled sob. The voice sounded high. The seven-year-old? Or was it my imagination? "Well, go to it. Fuck."

The room was silent except for the creaking of the floor boards. Rhythmic creaking. Loud. And the slap of flesh against flesh. A wet slapping, sucking noise, like a penis up a spit-lubed asshole. Also loud. I knew that sound. I knew it well. Sluck, ugh, creak, sluck, ugh, creak, in, out, in, out. Lisa and I sat there in the dark and listened. Two people breathing slowly and rhythmically. The breathing grew faster and louder. Four people. Four? Master Jack and Squire S getting aroused watching? Doing something we weren't aware of? Squire S had been silent all this time with the exception of the one comment. Two breaths now louder than the other two, irregular, grunting and gasping, the sounds of two people approaching an orgasm. How loud sex is when you don't have sight to guide you! A grunt louder than the rest, followed by another of a slightly different pitch, two people gasping for breath, and then just heavy breathing. The creaking of the floor stopped, as did the slapping of flesh. Only the laboured breathing. Laughter. One amused. The other cold and cruel.

Elias returned to the room, flushed and sweaty, holding his open trousers up with one hand. Master Jack followed, unzipping his trousers and pushing them and his underwear down, and went straight to Lisa. He was fully erect. He yanked up her dress and fell upon her and began to suck her breasts hungrily as he roughly fingered her cunt. She just lay there, too defeated to resist. Squire S headed straight to Sammy, pushing down his trousers as he went. Like Master Jack, his huge cock jutted up in the air, leading the way. He had Sammy lay on his back beside his mother, so he could see his face when he was penetrated for his first time he said. Having the boy throw his legs over his head to raise his ass, he knelt behind him and leaning over spat several times at his hole. Wedging the tip of his cock in his hole, he grasped the boy's hips and thrust his own forward.

"Push out! Pretend you're taking a crap. Push damn you! That's it! That's a good little coon. Oh fuck, your ass is tight, boy. Push! You want it. All you porch monkeys want it up the ass, male and female." Sammy grunted and strained, gritting his teeth and clenching shut his eyes as he tried to accept the man, as he tried to make this as least painful as he could. I sat there and watched as ever so slowly Squire S's long, thick cock sank up my boy's rectum. "That's it," he gasped with relief. "See how great it feels to have a thick, hard cock shoved up your rectum. All boys love it, especially little black boys. After this you're going to be going to sleep every night with your finger up ass and wishing it was a man's cock."

Squire S wasn't the only one looking at Sammy's expression. How can a father describe the look on his nine-year-old son's face as his ass is penetrated for the first time? What could he be thinking feeling a man's cock up his rectum? Squire S began to pump his hips to and fro, working his cock in and out of my son's body. "Hey, look at this. The little pickaninny's getting a boner, just like his big brother and his daddy did when I fucked them. Didn't I tell you these niggers are hot for cock the moment they leave the womb! Just look at his face. You're loving it, ain't you boy? You're thinking why couldn't this have happened years ago. Well, boy, don't you worry. We'll see that you make up for those lost years. You just lay there and think about how great it feels to have a cock up your ass. You and your bitch mother getting fucked at the same time, side by side. Isn't that fantastic?"

Elias sat in the corner staring into space, seeing and hearing nothing, reliving, I suspect, whatever had happened to him in the kitchen. Whatever it was it had gotten the two men hornier than usual and the two of them thrusting their hips to and fro rapidly, Master Jack driving his cock in and out of Lisa's cunt and Squire S driving his cock in and out of Sammy's ass, the two of them taking delight in the rape of my wife and nine-year-old son. The two men were gasping for breath in record time, and so were my wife and my son. All four were beaded with sweat in the stuffy, cramped room. As I sat there I knew the family beside us could hear every word, every grunt and every moan, every creak of the floor boards and rustle of the straw mattress. I wondered which of them had sex with my son. I wondered if he was being consoled by his parents, or if he was sitting there and reliving the horror like Elias was.

"Get ready, boy. I'm going to come any minute now. You're going to get your first shot of white man's cum up your tight black ass, just like your mother's going to get her cunt filled with a white man's once again. Just think boy, I've shot my load up your daddy's hole, and up your big brother's, and now up yours. Oh yes!" he grunted, "Oh yeah!" He rammed his cock up Sammy's ass and began to spurt his cum up the boy's rectum. For the first time in his young life my boy was feeling a man's hot, thick semen spurting into his body. He suddenly jerked, and quivered, and spasmed again, his eyes wide with awe and bewilderment, his mouth gaping open as he experienced his first orgasm, while a white man filled his rectum.

Several hours later I was woken up and I stumbled outside. The sun was not yet up. It was the overseer, the man with the rifle. "This is you're lucky day, coon. You're going home. And I get to give you your going home present." He unbuttoned his fly and pulled out his limp cock. Forcing me to my knees, he leered down at me as I took it in my mouth and sucked. Exhausted from the forced labour from sunup to sundown every day, having four or five hours of sleep each night, emotionally drained having been raped and having seen my wife and sons raped, I didn't care. Slowly I felt his cock growing firm between my lips. He then had me remove my trousers and lean against the tool shed where we picked up our bags to collect the cotton each day and he took me from behind, using my spittle for lube. He rammed his cock in and out of my ass rapidly, roughly, enjoying my humiliation and my pain, enjoying his power over me. This wasn't sex. This was an act of domination of one man over another, of one race over another. He was enjoying my humiliation and debasement as much as he was enjoying the throbbing of his cock up my rectum. He fucked me furiously, delighting in his physical pleasure and in the pleasure he got in playing the dominant role. He grunted and snorted like the animal he was as he filled my rectum with his cum. When he was done, we entered the shed and he lit a lantern.

There, hanging on a peg, were my clothes, the clothes I'd been wearing upon landing in Alabama. I dressed in a half sleep and he escorted me to the shuttle. This was a different driver than the one that had brought me here, a black man. Dropping me off at the airport, he handed me my tickets and passport and an envelope and drove off, leaving me there outside the terminal. I opened the envelope and read the note inside. "Catch your flight. Don't attempt to contact anyone. You'll find more instructions when you get home. Follow them if you want to see your family again."

They were announcing my flight when I entered the terminal. I headed for the check in counter. I had to stink of four days of sweat and grime and of sex. I could taste the overseer's cock in my mouth, and I could feel his slime up my ass. I was sure it was leaking out and into my underwear. That or my blood from my rough penetration. My underwear stuck to my ass crack. I hadn't wiped my ass since arriving in Alabama The passenger beside me glanced at me out of the corner of his eye in disgust and nausea and tried to edge away from me, impossible in the cabin of an air plane. I went through customs quickly, I suspect hastened along by my odour. The taxi driver could smell me from the front seat. Upon arriving home I showered until I ran out of hot water and then showered in cold water. I brushed my teeth repeatedly and tried to crap but there was nothing up my rectum to crap. I considered phoning the police but thought better of it. I went to the office the next morning just as I had planned on doing when we'd left on this trip.

My colleagues and the clerks and secretaries all greeted me and asked how the cruise had been. I simply shrugged and said it had been fine, and from the tone of my voice and lack of enthusiasm they sensed enough not to pursue the topic. George sat down and quietly asked me if I was all right and if Lisa and the boys were okay. All the showers and cosmetics in the world could not hide my haggard looks and the dark circles under my eyes from five days of lack of sleep nor my scraped and torn hands. I assured him everything was fine. I sorted through my mail and the pile of memos in my in box. There were two envelopes, no return addresses nor stamps, one plain and white, the other tinted and obviously expensive. The first contained a simple typed message, "Withdraw the charges in the Darby case." The stationery in the second matched the envelop and the handwritten note was written in a flourishing script. "Welcome back, boy. You know what needs to be done. Until then Master Jack will see that your loved ones enjoy their extended vacation." It was signed simply "S". I pictured him towering over me back there in shack 12B. "I want him to see what I meant about nigger boys obeying their white masters when their fathers don't heed good legal advice." The comment flashed in my mind exactly as it had been spoken, the same cold, impassionate voice.

The notes were not a surprise, and I had in fact thoroughly considered my options on the long, uncomfortable flight home and in my empty bed last night. I contacted my key witness and his family that day and outlined in plain and simple language what to expect from the defence lawyer and the media, painting as negative a picture as possible. It was a basic strategy, one I'd used many times before. In the past I had used the strategy because I wanted to warn the witness and family what to expect so that when it did happen they would not back out and leave me holding the bag. Today I used the strategy because I wanted to scare them so they would back out before we began. I succeeded. I can be very convincing when I am motivated, and I was very motivated. As soon as the second witness found out the first had backed out, so did he and his family. In both cases it was their word against the accused and there was no collaborating evidence. I filed the papers withdrawing all charges. The police detectives were angry and suspicious and swore they would continue to investigate and find the missing evidence but there was nothing they could do about it. The judge stamped the papers without a blink of an eye. It happens. It happens all too often. Charges get withdrawn every day for one reason or another. The coach and his lawyer still claimed innocence and the coach made noises about pressing charges for damaging his name and reputation. I trusted his lawyer would talk some sense into him.

Lisa, Elias and Sammy returned home the day after the papers were officially approved. Master Jack and Squire S work much faster than the judicial bureaucracy and the justice system. When I met them at the airport they stank of sweat and grime and of sex. They showered continuously and I bought more mouthwash and toothpaste. Elias was sullen and moody, flashing out in anger without warning one day and curling up in a fetal position in his room for hours the next day. Sammy had lost his bounce and boundless curiosity and went from talking incessantly about anything and everything to sitting comatosely and staring into space. Both jumped at the slightest loud noise. Both reacted with shame and embarrassment when I broached talking about what had happened and withdrew further into their shells. Both adamantly refused to see a counsellor. Lisa said it was best we just put things behind us and move forward, at least for now. She said to pursue it would be futile. She cringed when I touched her and pulled away, and though we still shared one bed, there were three pillows lined up between us. It was going to take time to heal, a long time.

At work I suddenly found an increase in cases assigned to me involving children, everything from custody battles between divorcing parents to pornography to sexual interference and abuse charges. Any case involving a child is stressful and demanding and normally such cases are spread out among all prosecutors. Anyone familiar with the judicial system will tell you the number of these cases is increasing phenomenally every day, because more people are stepping forward, because investigative techniques are improving, and though nobody wants to admit it, because our society is becoming more violent and perverted. Even so, the increase in my case load was excessive. When I inquired about it, my inquiries were met with shrugs, or vague comments about my success rate or coincidence, none of them convincing.

Yesterday Lisa announced she had missed her period.

Postscript 1. It has been five and a half months. I took Lisa out to a romantic, candle-lit dinner for Valentines Day. She is beginning to show and we've had the usual congratulations, and behind our back the expected whispers about why we would have another child at our age and that the baby was most likely "an accident." A prelude to the whispers that will occur once the baby is born and they see how much lighter coloured his or her skin will be compared to Elias and Sammy. We are sleeping in the same bed but we haven't had sex since her return. At first she couldn't stand being touched, by anyone, and then we discovered she was pregnant.

Elias got an envelope in the mail with an American stamp, no return address. Lisa found it under his underwear in his underwear and sock drawer when she did the laundry Saturday. Inside was a photo of the eldest girl from Cabin 12A, naked, obviously pregnant, the same stage as Lisa. She I had not suspected. Lisa said that night he'd been taken into the kitchen had been repeated every night until they left but she hadn't suspected either. On the back were two words printed in pencil in a childish scrawl: Love You. Beneath in a flourishing script was, "If you ever want to visit your new family you know how to contact us." It was unsigned. Elias had torn the picture into pieces. We put it back and will wait for him to mention it.

Postscript 2. Lisa will be delivering any day now. We will be keeping the baby despite who the father is and the painful memories how she was conceived. He or she is Lisa's baby just as well after all. Elias has disappeared. The photo of the girl from Cabin 12B is gone also. He will be sixteen in another two months.

Chapter 16
Jeremy's coming out – 1/2

Story told by Jeremy.  Mister Whiting suggests Jeremy and Justin play Dimitri as there is nobody in their club to challenge them.  Justin is surprised and hesitant but he knows their teacher will check if he has contacted Dimitri.  Beginning June 1 with an innocent game, Dimitri begins to ask intimate questions and when Justin goes on holiday he invites Jeremy over and they jack off and progress to oral sex before Jeremy heads on holiday where he meets Kiki, an emo boy.

Characters: Dimitri, Jeremy (12), Kiki (13/14).
Codes: M/b

"That was an excellent move, Jeremy. Excellent!"

"Thanks, Mister Whiting."

"The two of you are the best players in the club by far." I felt my cheeks growing hot and I glanced over at Justin. He was blushing too. "That does create a problem."

"Oh?" I asked, surprised. How could being the best be a problem? I glanced over at Justin again. He seemed as confused as I was.

"For a player to improve he has to be challenged, and there is nobody in the club that can challenge you."

"Oh." That was a problem, but a good one.

"There is someone that might be a match for the two of you. He was even better than you are when he was your age, Justin."

"Oh yeah, who is that?"

"The young man you're tutoring." Justin didn't say anything. "You know," Mister Whiting said slowly as he thought about it, "I don't know if he still plays, but if he doesn't, I'll bet it would be good therapy for him. You should introduce young Jeremy to him and ask him if he'd be interested in playing a game."

"I'm sure he'd be interested in playing a game," Justin muttered as he stared at the chess board. He did not look like he liked the idea at all.

"What did you say?" asked Mister Whiting.

"I said I'm not sure if he'd be interested in playing a game. He's… ah… got issues."

"Oh yes, I realized that. Young Jeremy might be just what he needs."

"Like a fox needs a chicken," Justin mumbled.

"Yes, good, you check with him. You still tutor him on Thursdays after school, don't you?"

"Yes."

Justin was definitely hesitant about the whole idea. "There something wrong?" I asked as we left the classroom.

"What do you mean?"

"About Mister Whiting's idea. You don't want to do it?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. I just don't know if the guy wants to. It's been eight, nine years since Mister Whiting knew him. He might not be interested in chess anymore."

"But you are going to ask him."

"Yes," he snapped. "I said I would didn't I?"

He definitely didn't want to do this. I couldn't figure out why. Was he afraid I'd learn better from this guy, that I'd get better than he was? Was he jealous or something? He was acting weird. Chess club meets on Tuesdays. Mister Whiting said Justin tutored the guy on Thursdays. Friday I sought Justin out in the cafeteria. He was talking to a couple girls so I hung back. He was in grade nine, two grades ahead of me, so I knew grade niners didn't want grade seveners around when they were talking to girls. Besides, Cory Carson was there and everyone in grade seven avoided him. As Justin got up, Cory got up and grabbed his food tray. Normally he'd tip a guy's tray and then laugh as the guy picked it up and the cafeteria monitor glared at him. Lately he'd been taking Cory's tray and taking it back to the stacking carts for him, like he was an invalid or his girlfriend or something. That's what he did this time. Something weird was going on between the two of them. Everyone said so. I caught Cory as he was leaving the cafeteria.

"So, what did he say?"

"Say?"

"You know. The guy you're tutoring."

"Oh, yeah. He said he'd let me know."

"Oh. Okay." Justin didn't sound sincere. I wondered if he'd even asked.

Tuesday at our regular chess club meeting Mister Whiting asked him.

"Oh." He hesitated. "He said yeah, he'd like a game. But he wants it tomorrow after school."

"That's okay," I said.

"If you got other things to do, I can tell him–."

"No. Tomorrow's fine."

"Okay. I'll meet you on the steps."

Something was definitely wrong. He hadn't intended on telling me. And then have an excuse, that it was too soon, or that he couldn't find me or something. Meeting the guy really hadn't mattered to me, but I was determined now to go and find out what was up. I met Justin on the front steps the next day and we biked to the guy's place.

"He try anything you just get up and leave, understand?"

"Try anything? Like what?"

"Anything."

I knew the guy hadn't been in school for nine years, but I hadn't really thought about it, like why or anything. That's how dumb I was. It was a little strange, the guy being twenty-three. That was almost twice my age. He already had a table and the board set up. In their living room. His mother brought in milk and cookies, something flaky with nuts and loads of honey, and she looked particularly happy. Well, he was good. Real good. He played the two of us together, and we really had to concentrate. The game was over in less than half an hour. We played a second game, much closer but with the same result. We agreed to meet again the following Wednesday. Justin took off as soon as we were done.

The next Wednesday as we biked over to play chess, Justin acted real strange, as if he was dreading what was going to happen and real worried. Again as we leaned up our bikes and headed for the door he told me if anything happened that I was uncomfortable with or that I thought was wrong to just get up and leave. Dimitri's mum met us at the door before I could reply. Again we went to their living room. This time Dimitri had two boards set up and said he'd play both of us. Well, I've seen guys do that in competitions, chess masters. We really had to concentrate and I almost had him, but he managed to get out of checkmate and a few moves later had me in check. Again we played a second time, and this time we ended up in a tie. He beat Justin though, which was a surprise because Justin is better than I am, but he just didn't seem to be able to concentrate.

When we left, I asked him what was bothering him, and he denied that anything was. He finally just said that he was thinking about the big Prom coming up a week from tomorrow, and the government exams the following week. I understood that, the latter anyway. We had to write exams from the government in grade six. Well, I was looking forward to our next match and I read up on all the famous games. On Tuesday Mister Whiting said he'd noticed how much sharper we were playing and that he was glad we had taken his suggestion.

The following Wednesday we arrived as usual at Dimitri's but this time his mum said he was waiting for us in his room. She looked real disappointed about it and sort worried. Justin looked like he'd just heard he had to see the dentist. "Anything funny, run. Just get up and run," he whispered as we headed down the hall. Again Dimitri had two boards set up and played each of us separately. This time Justin played even worse than the previous week and Dimitri beat him way before he beat me. When we began our second game, when we made a move he thought was wrong, he stopped us and coming around behind us, he leaned over and showed us our move and then what he would do in response and how that would lead to him capturing one of our pieces. Instead of saying capture, he called it knocking off our piece, which was strange. Being such a strong player, you'd think he'd use the proper terminology. Sometimes when he leaned over to show us a move, he put his hand on our shoulder, or on our leg or knee, which was sort of uncomfortable and which Justin definitely did not like. While he waited for us to make our moves and while he thought about his next move, he sometimes rubbed his thigh or clutched his crotch, or he scratched his nuts while he thought of his next move which was really distracting. It was so obvious I had to wonder if he was doing that to distract us on purpose. If so that was sort of like cheating to me. And he talked, which you're not supposed to do when you're playing, about the upcoming Grade Nine Prom, and girls, and guys making out and things like that.

Again he beat both of us. He suggested we take a break the next week, both our chess meeting with him and his tutoring with Justin on account of it being Prom week and the government exams were coming up. Justin agreed quickly but I said I didn't have to as I wasn't going to the Prom and the exams were just for grade nines, and that I could still meet for chess. Well, Justin said it would be better if we were both there as we learn from each other's mistakes, but he really couldn't take the time next week. He also said it would give us a chance to read up on and practice some moves, and Dimitri said it would be a chance for him to think of some wicked moves he could use also. Since Dimitri agreed with him so did I but I figured Justin just didn't want me to have an extra practice without him. Was he that jealous that he worried I'd learn something he wouldn't and be better than him? We were both good, but he was still better than I was, which was no surprise in that he had two more years experience. I said something bout that and Dimitri said that you get better with experience for sure, and he looked at Justin as if he meant something else and Justin got all red.

The next Wednesday we played, Dimitri again had two boards set up. He said that last week was good, but he felt we were still not trying hard enough. He suggested this time we play Ask and Tell. If one of us lost a piece the guy who won could ask the guy a question and he had to answer the truth. I lost the first piece and Dimitri asked me if I'd ever seen a girl's private parts. That was totally unexpected and it came as such a surprise I laughed and blushed and of course I said no. Justin lost the next piece was asked the same question and he gave the same answer. To my surprise Dimitri lost the next piece to me. I grinned and asked the same question, to which Dimitri replied that he had. That wasn't too surprising in that he was twenty-three and probably had a girlfriend.

The next question was to Justin and Dimitri asked what his favourite dessert was, and when he said chocolate forest cake Dimitri said he thought Justin would say banana cream pie which for some reason cause him to turn red. I have no idea what the secret was. The next question was to me and was a real shocker. Dimitri asked me if I ever jerked off. Of course I said no. Justin lost next and got the same question and to my surprise he said he had! Dimitri lost the next piece to me so of course I asked him the same question and to my surprise he said, "lots of times." His next question was if I checked out the other guys in the showers or change room in gym and to my embarrassment I had to say I did sometimes and it was my time to turn red.

Dimitri's next question was if I ever kissed a girl and both Justin and I said no. His next question was if a guy ever kissed me to which of course I said no again. Justin lost the next piece and was asked the same question and my jaw dropped to the table when he said a guy had. I couldn't believe it! I had to wonder who. The only name I could come up with was Cory Carson and I wondered if that was why Cory was acting so weird around Justin. Dimitri's next question was if Justin had ever gotten a boner to which he said yes. I got the same question next and I said I had too, and when Dimitri lost the next piece to me I asked him the same question and he said "every day" which made me laugh. Dimitri's next question was if we liked girls and of course Justin and I said yes but to my surprise Dimitri said "not really."

Dimitri's next question was to Justin and he asked Justin if he had ever touched another boy's dick or if another boy has held his. Justin said yes almost in a whisper! It had to be the same boy who had kissed him. I gave a very definite no. Dimitri's next question to me was if I like boys. I said, "you mean, like…" and Dimitri said yes and I again gave him a very definite no. Instead of making me try harder, I found the questions were making it more difficult for me to concentrate. I suspect Justin was having the same problem. Again I wondered if Dimitri was playing dirty and doing that on purpose to be sure he beat us. Not surprisingly, he beat us both in record time. He said maybe we were trying too hard and that we would take a break from playing chess since Justin was going away on holiday. Justin quickly agreed we needed a break and I wondered if he was feeling as uncomfortable as I was with this game of Ask and Tell. I was eager to ask Justin about some of his answers, and about some of Dimitri's answers, but he jumped on his bike and took off right after our session, which was probably just as well. It was embarrassing, and I wasn't sure how I was going to bring up the topic.

I was surprised to get a phone call from Dimitri the following Wednesday asking if I'd like to come over for a game of chess that afternoon. I wasn't doing anything so I agreed. He said that he had been thinking about last week and that it hadn't worked out very well, so he thought we'd try something different to give me more motivation: strip chess. Each time one of us lost a chess piece the loser had to take off an article of clothing. Well, I felt I had plenty of motivation without needing to do that, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. At least it was better than Ask and Tell which I had dreaded we would play again. I was wearing seven things including my watch and my glasses. Dimitri had ten, counting his earrings as two so he gave me his necklace and removed his ring, giving us both eight which meant we had to loose half our pieces before we were naked.

He lost the first two pieces and took off his two earrings. After that we were pretty equal, me losing a piece and then him. Finally I was down to just my underwear and my glasses and I concentrated extra hard and was extra cautious. There was no way I wanted to take off my underwear, and though I could still see without my glasses I couldn't see as sharply. Dimitri lost one of his pawns and then one of his knights, making him remove his watch and his pants. He was wearing briefs, just like me, and you could see the bulge of his dick which made my dick twitch and I wondered what his would look like. I'd noticed he'd been looking right at me when I'd removed my jeans and I figured he'd been wondering what my privates looked like too. It felt sort of weird him and me sitting there in our underwear, especially since he was twenty-three and I was twelve. Anyway, he made a dumb move and I captured one of his bishops and he took off his shirt. His hair is jet black and he really had a thick mat of chest hair, even more than my dad, and really long pit hair. I check my underarms almost every day but I hadn't started any pit hair yet, and of course I had no chest hair.

He just had his shorts left so I hoped I still had a chance, but he boxed me in and I had to sacrifice a pawn. I really debated which I should remove and finally decided on my underwear. I started to wiggle them down but he reminded me when we'd begun he'd said the rule for pants and underwear was that we had to stand up to remove them. Well, I stood up and pushed my shorts down and stepped out of them, trying to block his view with my hands which was impossible, and he watched closely.

"Nice," he said, which I thought a strange thing for him to say. "How long have you had hairs?"

"Mmmm, a while." He looked at me blankly and without moving as I sat back down. "About four months," I admitted. Actually four months ago I had just a little patch of fuzz above my dick. It was more like three months you could really call it hair. I was proud of it though. I know there are a lot of guys my age who don't have any curlies yet. That was one thing I checked for when I checked out guys in the showers and change room, but I hadn't been able to explain that when we had played Ask and Tell.

To my surprise Dimitri lost the next piece. I would normally have looked away, but he had sat there and watched when I had to remove my shorts, so I figured I was justified in doing the same when he stood, but it felt weird sitting there buck naked while a guy almost twice my age pushed down his jockey shorts and stepped out of them. His dick was long and fat, twice the size of mine, and circumcised like mine, and his nuts hung down in a long, loose sack of skin. His hairs were just as dark as the rest of his hair, and really thick. It spread up over his belly in a large upside down triangle, and he had wispy strands around his balls. I don't know why but my dick twitched and began to swell. I quickly slipped my left hand in front of it even though it was under the table. We played the rest of the game naked and he let me keep my glasses on when I lost my next piece. He soon had me in check and then checkmate.

As we dressed he said that I had really played a great game, and maybe we'd have to try strip chess again. He asked if I wanted to move our games up to afternoons since school was out and I had no reason not to so I agreed. When I biked home and all that evening I thought about our game, and how awkward I had felt sitting there naked in front of him, and how he had looked naked. I thought about him when I crawled into bed that night, and as I pictured him standing up and pushing down his briefs, I popped a boner. I immediately stopped thinking about him and tried thinking about other stuff, but my mind kept coming back to him until I finally dropped off to sleep. I don't know if my dick was hard all night but it was when I fell asleep and it was when I woke up, but then I also had to take a piss bad.

I thought about what we'd done all week and I thought about it as I biked over to Dimitri's the next Wednesday after lunch and I wondered if he would suggest doing it again. He was the first adult I've ever seen naked close up. Of course there were adults in the showers at the pool, but they always turned away and you couldn't just stand there and stare at them so you never really saw anything other than their hairs and a glimpse of their wieners. With Dimitri I had a good, long, closeup look, of his wiener and his nuts. And of course he had a good, long, closeup look of mine. As I parked my bike I sort of hoped he would suggest it again and that I'd have another chance to really have a good look at another guy's privates, but I also sort of hoped he would not. I mean, if he was a girl of course I would, but he was a guy. That was different. Everyone knows what sort of guy is interested in seeing another guy's privates. And I had gotten a boner thinking about it! I'm not that sort of guy! Sure, I'm interested, and like I'd said in the Ask and Tell, I've checked guys out in the showers and change rooms, but I was just curious, that's all. Especially when guys in my class began getting hairs. I was curious who had and who hadn't, and was glad I was one of those who started and not one of those who were still smooth. And I wondered how big other guys were and stuff, but I was just curious, that's all. I wasn't, like, interested.

Well, he had the board set up like he always does, and we sat down and began to play and he didn't say anything about last week or doing it again. I wondered if I should but I was too scared and embarrassed to say anything. I didn't want him getting the wrong idea. I didn't want to start getting the wrong idea. An adult twenty-three years old stripping with a twelve-year-old boy? Well guys would think something dirty was going on. All week I had wondered if he'd planned on doing something dirty. That was dumb of course. He'd said it was to motivate me, and it had, and he hadn't done anything more than that. I wondered if he'd played strip chess with Justin. I wondered if they'd done more than that.

I remembered Justin's hesitation in me joining him and Dimitri. I remembered the look in his eyes and his caution to get up and leave if Dimitri tried anything funny. Maybe Dimitri had tried to get Justin to play strip chess and he'd refused. I wondered if Dimitri had wanted to do something more than just strip but had decided not to. Maybe he thought I was still too much a kid. Justin is two years older than I. Maybe in the game of Ask and Tell he was checking me out and decided I was too young or too innocent or too dumb or something. I tried to remember what he'd asked and what I'd said. Maybe when he saw me naked he decided I wasn't grown up enough. As we continued playing and he did nothing I began to relax, glad it had all been in my imagination. I was also sort of disappointed. We played a good game and I almost beat him.

"When we played Ask and Tell with Justin, you said you've never jerked off. Was that the truth?" he asked as we began to put the chess pieces back in the box.

"Yeah," I admitted, too surprised by the question to lie, which I wouldn't have anyway.

"That still true?"

"Yeah."

I should have asked when he had said "lots of times" if that was true. I should have said I was surprised when Justin said he had. Guys don't just come out and admit that. I should have asked him how old he was when he'd done it. I should have asked what it was like. I should have asked if he thought other guys did it. There were a lot of things I should have asked. I just sat there like a dummy putting away the chess pieces.

"But you said you've gotten a bone."

"Yeah, but not every day," I said with a smile, repeating his answer.

"But often."

"Yeah."

"Then why haven't you jerked off? Your body's telling you it's ready, and wants to." I shrugged. "Everybody jerks off some time. Some do it regularly."

"Were you joking when you said you did it often?"

"Hell no. If I'm not getting off with another person, it's the natural thing to do. It feels great and everyone does it. So why not do it?"

"Some people say it's dirty."

"Sure it is. That's part of the fun. And part of being a guy."

"Some say it's a sin."

"The Bible says it's a sin to eat meat on Fridays, but nobody believes that anymore."

"It really says that?"

"Sure. For the longest time Catholics would only eat fish on Fridays because they don't consider fish meat. Some still do. There's lots of things the Bible says that nobody believes anymore."

I'm not particularly religious, and nor is my family. That wasn't the main reason I've never done it.

"You know how to do it."

"Yeah, of course. You just, well, rub it." I wasn't a dumb kid.

"You afraid to try it?"

"It's really all right to do it?" I asked. "Like, you know, physically?"

"Sure. Like I said, when you're not getting sex with another person, it's perfectly natural." Guys joke about having 'the talk' with their dads. I wondered if this was part of it. "If you want to give it a try, go ahead."

"You mean now? Here?"

"Sure. I don't mind. If you have any questions or worries, I'd be right here for you to ask. I can do it along with you so you can watch and see how I do it if you'd like."

"You would?"

"Sure." He stood up, pulled down his fly and undid the button of his jeans and pushed his jeans and underwear down. "Here. Sit on the bed beside me."

I hadn't meant to say yes. I glanced down at his dick and balls. Jerking off was wrong. It was something losers did. Guys who couldn't make it with girls. And fairies.

"Com'on. You've wondered about it." I had. The first time I popped a boner. When one of the guys said he heard the more you do it the thicker your hairs grow. When we heard older guys brag about getting a hand job from their girls. I wondered if they really did or if that was just talk. I wondered if girls would actually touch a guy's thing. It didn't seem likely. I never heard of any girl I knew personally doing it. "Just try it. If you don't like it, we can stop any time. It'll be our secret, yours and mine."

I wondered if this was one of the secrets he and Justin had. Justin had said he'd jerked off. When he'd said it I'd wondered why he'd admitted it. Maybe he'd admitted it because he knew Dimitri knew he did it. Maybe this was the reason he didn't want me to meet Dimitri. He was afraid I'd find out his secret. Or he didn't want me to share something he and Dimitri did. It all started to come together now that I thought about it. It made sense. I glanced at the open door. "Don't worry. Momma would never come in my room when I have company." She hadn't all the times we'd played chess. I glanced at Dimitri's crotch. It was a chance to see how another guy did it. That wasn't something I could do with any of my friends, not even my best friend. It was a chance to see a guy's bone, an adult's bone. I certainly didn't know any other adult who would let me do that! It was a chance to do it with another guy there to ask questions if I had to. That was the big reason I'd never tried it–not knowing enough about it. Glancing at the open door again, I stepped over to his bed and pulling down my fly and unbuttoning the top of my jeans, I pushed them down to my knees and then my briefs and I sat down beside him. My heart was racing and I was nervous as heck but it was an opportunity too good to turn down.

I watched as Dimitri slipped his fingers under his dink and bounced it and it immediately began to swell. I slipped my fingers under my wiener and bounced it like he was doing. It began to swell too. Dimitri slipped three fingers under his dick and his thumb on top and tugged on his dick a couple times, and then slid his fingers up the shaft and over his bulb and then back down over his bulb and down his shaft to his balls. I slipped my three fingers under my wiener and my thumb on top and tugged on it a few times and then slid my fingers and thumb up to the tip and back down to my balls, glancing from his dick to mine and back to his. My heart was high in my chest and pounding like mad. My bulb tingled all around the rim and my wiener began to swell some more. Dimitri's dick began to swell some more also. He rubbed for a while and then tugged and then rubbed some more. So did I. It was exciting sitting there on his bed beside him watching him playing with his dink while I played with mine and having him sitting there watching me playing with myself. He didn't hide the fact he was looking at mine and watching me. A guy playing with himself is dirty. Two guys sitting side by side playing with themselves and watching each other is twice as dirty. Dimitri had said being dirty was part of the fun. He had said being dirty is part of being a guy. My wiener ached and really began to swell fast.

Dimitri let go of his dick and it stood straight up between his legs. I let go of mine and my wiener pointed straight up in the air too.

"Nice," Dimitri said, glancing down at mine. His voice was husky.

"Yours too," I said. My voice was changing and getting deeper but this time it was my boy's voice. I sounded like Mickey Mouse. At least my voice didn't crack. "It's huge."

"Twenty centimetres [7.8"]," he said. That was really huge. I didn't know how big mine was at the time but that night I did everything we did that afternoon and when it got hard I measured it. It was just under ten [4"].

So we sat there side by side on his bed jerking off. It was my very first time. It was exciting and dirty and I was worried about his mother coming in and catching us but he didn't seem to care. After a while the pounding of my swollen wiener caught all my attention and I stopped worrying about getting caught. The rim was really itching and my bulb was really aching, sort of how it aches when you wake up in the morning and got to take a leak but your dick has boned up and you can't at first. My arm was really getting tired. Dimitri speeded up and so I did too. My wiener was really hot and throbbing and the bulb really burning. Dimitri grabbed a box of Kleenex off his night stand and plucked out a few tissues and held them in front of his dickhead.

"I'm going to cum," he said. His voice was real husky and he was panting hard. As I stared at his big, fat dick it began to spurt and I saw my first cum. It was thick and white and it spurted out like a water pistol, spurt after spurt after spurt. There was a lot of it and it filled the tissue and spurted over his fingers.

Then I felt a twang in my groin, like someone snapped an elastic band, and I felt a burning up the centre of my swollen wiener like I was going to pee. "I think I'm going to cum too," I said, my voice cracking. I grabbed some Kleenex tissue but I didn't grab enough and I held it too low. I started spurting and my first spurt shot up in the air and over the Kleenex and my cum fell on the top of my pointer finger and oozed down the back of my hand. It was hot and watery and slimy and frightening and awesome. The second spurt followed the first before I had the tissue held high enough. The third spurt slimed my thumb. Spurt after spurt shot from my wiener. It sort of felt like taking a leak but my peehole burned much stronger and the rim of my dick head really itched and instead of a steady stream it came in spurts. The rest of my wiener felt all numb, like your hand does when it falls asleep. My right leg began to twitch and I couldn't stop it and I was gasping and panting like I'd just run four laps around the gym. For a second I felt dizzy and thought I was going to topple off the bed but Dimitri grabbed my shoulder with his left hand and steadied me.

I glanced down at my stiff, swollen dick and at the big blob of cum soaking into the tissue and at the globs oozing over my thumb and fingers. I looked over at Dimitri's big, hard cock and the globs of thick cum he had shot into the Kleenex in his other hand. He squeezed his cock and drew up his fingers, squeezing out more cum, and then he released his grip and grasping his dick at the base again he drew them back up, squeezing still more cum out. I copied his actions, and as I squeezed my wiener and drew my fingers up, more of my cum oozed out the tip and down along the underside of my bulb and into the Kleenex. It reminded me of lava flowing out of a volcano and when I told that to Dimitri later he laughed and said that was a good description.

I repeated doing it like Dimitri had and more cum oozed out. Dimitri told me later that was called milking your dick. It felt weird oozing out my peehole, and good. I was glad for my first time I'd done it with Dimitri. I was surprised how much cum we spurted, and how hot and slimy and sticky it was. Dimitri said as I got older and made more sperm my cum would get thicker and whiter too, like his. Our dicks began to go limp and we wiped our dicks and our fingers off with new Kleenex and tossed our sticky wads of Kleenex in his wastepaper basket. The tissue stuck to my fingers and Dimitri said to smell them. My fingers smelled of cum. It sort of reminded me of the smell in a hospital or a dentist's office. We pulled up our underwear and I felt cum ooze up my limp dick and out the tip and into my underwear. When I pulled up my jeans and pulled up the fly I felt more ooze out again, hot and sticky. I told Dimitri and he said that was okay and that it was because I had waited so long to do it my balls were overfilled with cum.

"Next Wednesday?"

"For sure."

As I biked home, I could feel me cum sticking my underwear to my belly. I went straight to the bathroom when I got home and looked. I couldn't really see anything but my hairs and my underwear were wet and sticky. I smelled my fingers. They smelled of wiener and of cum. I loved it. Like I said, that night I did everything we did that afternoon. Everything. I did it Friday and Saturday too, at night, in my bed under the blankets. Dimitri was right. My balls were full of cum.

When Dimitri had said "next Wednesday" I knew he meant to play a game of chess, but all week I hoped he also meant to jerk off. As I ran his doorbell the next Wednesday, I was really looking forward to the afternoon. We played a game of chess as usual but I had difficulty focussing on it and played poorly. When we finished, I hoped Dimitri would suggest we jerk instead of play a second game, but he set up the board for a second game. He didn't mention anything about the previous Wednesday.

"There's a guy at our school. He used to be a real bully."

"Oh? Used to be?"

"Something weird happened to him. He went to the prom dressed like a girl, dress and bra and panties and everything. Rumour is that he went to the guys' can where someone had punched a hole between two stalls and spent the prom sucking dick. Rumour is that anyone who wanted more left him their phone number or Email or whatever and he's been contacting them and giving them blow jobs, even some of his friends who are also bullies like him, and even some of the guys whom he bullied. Some guys say the guys he bullied have been back several times, not because they like it, but to get even with him for bullying him. Rumour is that he meets them wherever, in the park, at the mall, in alleys behind dumpsters, anywhere." Dimitri didn't say anything.

"Rumour is that he does it even better than a girl. Do you think a girl would really suck a guy's dick?"

"What do you think?"

"I think it's mostly talk. You know, guys wanting it to sound like girls think they're hot."

"You're probably right, most of it is probably just talk. A girl would have to be pretty desperate to put a guy's dick in their mouth."

"Yeah." I thought about it. "What about the rumours about this bully? You think they're true?"

"There's one way to find out."

"Well, he's never bullied me himself. A guy wonders though, you know, what it would be like to be sucked off. Or what it would be like to do it to a guy."

Dimitri didn't say anything. We played the rest of the second game. He beat me of course. I didn't jerk off that night, nor all week. I had thought he might have been interested in doing it a second time with me and I was disappointed he didn't. I was hoping we'd maybe talk a bit about it at least but he didn't mention it at all. I realized I was being dumb. He was twenty-three and I was a kid. Why would he do it a second time? He said he'd do it with me so if I had any questions my first time. He'd done that. That was it. I thought about Cory and the rumours about him and I asked a few guys in my class if they had heard the rumours or if they knew anything for sure. A couple had heard their older brothers talking but none knew for sure. It made you wonder. It made me wonder anyway.

The next Wednesday I got up enough courage to ask if it was okay for a guy to do it twice in one day. Dimitri laughed and asked if I'd done it twice in a day, and I blushed and confessed I had. He asked how often and I said just that once, the day we'd done it together. Dimitri asked if I'd done it since that day and I admitted that I had, a couple times, that first week.

"Just a couple times? Don't you like it?"

"Sure. I do. It… feels good."

We finished the game quick.

"You… you want to… you know… do it instead of playing another game?" I dared to ask.

"Do you?"

"Sure. If you do that is."

"Sure," he said with a shrug.

I was disappointed. He didn't sound very interested in doing it. Certainly not enthused. So we pushed our jeans and underwear down to our knees and again sat on the bed side by side and bounced and rubbed our dicks until they were hard. "You want to try doing mine?" he asked suddenly.

"Ah. Yeah. Sure."

He let go of his dick and I reached over and wrapped my fingers about it. It felt really huge compared to mine. I couldn't even totally wrap my fingers and thumb around it. I watched real careful as I began to rub it. Dimitri reached over with his left hand and slipping his fingers and thumb about mine he began to tug on it and to stroke it. It really felt different doing someone else's, especially an adult, and really weird having someone doing mine, and especially an adult. He was real careful and gentle and asked several times if what he was doing was feeling good. I said it was and he said doing mine felt good too, and did having his done by me. So we sat there side by side and jerked each other off, and I caught his cum when he came and he caught mine. When I left he asked me to come over for a sleep over on Saturday. That caught me by surprise. I mean, he is almost twice my age. Everything told me I should say no but I said yes. When I got home I got my second surprise. Mom said they had a phone call from the father of my friend Justin and he had said his son and I had talked about having a sleep over, and that it was all right with him and he wanted to assure my mother and father that he'd be home and would "keep an eye on us". It obviously had been Dimitri who phoned.

Well, I felt really strange biking over to his house with my overnight bag and I had to wonder if Justin had ever had a sleep over with him. Justin was still away on holiday though so I couldn't ask him. When I showed up at his house, his younger brother was outside.

"You want to do this?" he asked. I looked up at him, not sure what he meant. "You want to have a sleep over?"

"Ah, yeah, sure."

"With a twenty-three-year-old man?"

"Well, it is a little strange."

"A little," he replied. "A little queer." The way he said queer and the look on his face, he didn't mean queer as in the strange sense. "He forcing you to sleep over?"

"No, of course not."

"You know what you're getting yourself into." I didn't, exactly. I didn't think it was because he enjoyed playing chess with me that much, nor was really that interested in what a twelve-year-old guy does. I'm not dumb. I figured it had to be the other stuff. The sex stuff. That was strange considering our ages, and uncomfortable. But so far it hadn't been harmful. Actually it had been rather good having someone older to talk to, to explain stuff, someone who knew what he was talking about instead of just guessing or repeating rumours like my friends. That was a lot better.

"You don't, do you?" he asked incredulously. "It's not too late. Turn around and head back home. You can tell him you're sick, or changed your mind, or something came up. Anything."

I could. I had considered that, but I didn't have his phone number, and I didn't even know his last name. I had decided I was being stupid and being a chicken. I wasn't worried exactly. Dimitri had always been pleasant about all this, like a wiser, older brother. I was apprehensive though. Still, I couldn't lie to him. Friends didn't lie to each other, and we were friends. "That's all right," I said.

"It's not fucking all right you little idiot! Don't any of you understand? Or are you all a bunch of little faggots!" He didn't wait for an answer. He jumped on his bike and peddled away. As I watched him I had a bad feeling and an ache in the pit of my stomach. I turned and walked up to the door and rang the bell.

Dimitri met me at the door and we went to his room. He asked if I had sleep overs with my friends and I said we did sometimes and he asked what we did and what we talked about. He seemed real interested when I told him. You can tell when an adult asks you a question but he's not really expecting an answer and isn't interested when you tell him. Dimitri wasn't like that. He actually wanted to know. He had an amazing collection of games, some which I'd played before and others that I'd never heard of. So he opened up a bag of potato chips and a couple sodas and we played Minecraft for a while, which I'd played before, and Dragon Quest which I hadn't, and then around ten we went to the kitchen and had a huge bowl of ice cream and that real sweet desert made of honey and nuts which he said his mother makes all the time.

When we returned to his room we got ready for bed. I felt real strange as I took off my clothes. Even though I'd stripped in front of Dimitri before playing chess, and I'd not just dropped my pants and underwear but I'd jerked off with him, and just two days ago we'd jerked each other off, I still felt embarrassed pushing down and stepping out of my underwear and putting on my pajamas. Whenever me and my friends changed for bed we did so usually in the dark, or on opposite sides of the bed with our backs to each other, not with the light on and side by side like Dimitri and I did. I put on my pajamas and Dimitri changed into a clean sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of blue boxers with of all things a pattern of white roosters.

"You have a girlfriend yet?" Dimitri asked when we crawled under the blankets.

"No."

"But you said you like girls when we played Ask and Tell."

"Yeah."

"So why don't you have a girlfriend?"

I shrugged. "I just haven't met anyone I like that much. You have a girl?"

"No. Like I told you, I don't like girls much."

"But you've seen their privates."

"Oh yeah." He slapped his head. "Dumb me. I bet you'd like to see a girl's privates. We could have surfed the Internet and I could have shown you some hot sites instead of playing video games."

"That's all right. The games were fun."

"I can still show you. Unless you're sleepy."

"No, I'm not sleepy."

He turned on the lamp on his night table and got his laptop and sat down cross-legged on the bed and I crawled out from under the blankets and sat beside him. He knew exactly where to look and brought up pictures of naked women, and then closeups of their privates. We looked for probably twenty minutes or so and it was interesting. The pictures of their cunts were gross actually but my dick started to swell.

"You were wondering about blow jobs," he said, typing in another address on the computer. The next shot were pictures of women sucking guys' dicks. Women of all colours and ages and guys too. I popped a boner and it tented out my pajamas bottoms but I didn't dare reach down and tuck it into a more comfortable position. Then he brought up a site of men doing men, first pictures, and then a video and my dick poked its head out through the fly of my pajamas. Dimitri laughed and said it wanted a better look. Looking at the bulge in his boxers I said it looked like his wanted out to have a look too. He got up and put his computer away. When he turned you could see his dick was so large it was pulling the top of his boxers away from his body.

"So, we're both boned up," he said. "You wanna give sucking dick a try?" I was tempted, but sucking dick? That was gross. And something that, well, fairies did. "Of course if it's past your bedtime, we can just go to sleep."

"No. I'd like to try it."

He smiled and told me to get out of bed. Tucking my dick back in my pajamas, I got off the bed and he sat on the edge of it and reached out and pulled down my pajamas bottoms. My wiener of course stood straight up in the air. "You really do have a nice looking cock," he said as he reached out and held my dick by the base. He leaned over and swirled his tongue around the shaft and then up over my knob, causing me to squirm. "How did that feel?"

"Like I wanna squirt."

He laughed and licked me again a couple times, and then he slipped his lips over my dick and clamped them down tight just below my bulb, really tight, and just sat there. I wondered if that was it or if I was supposed to do something. I slowly realized I didn't have to shoot so bad.

"You still need to squirt?"

"Not so much."

"When you do again, let me know. We want to enjoy this for a while before you do."

He slipped his lips over my bulb again, but this time he slid them all the way down to the base of my cock and he began to suck. I could feel the suction tugging at my dick and I imagined him sucking the air out of my pee tube. And then he began to slide his lips up and down my dick, from the base to the bulb and back down, and I felt his spit filling his mouth and surrounding my dick until he had to swallow it, and I wondered what it tasted like. I stood there watching him and it was just like in the video. It felt so good and I was watching him so close I almost forgot to tell him I was starting to feel the need to spurt again. He clamped his lips about my bulb again until the feeling went away, and then he continued to suck on my dick. It was swollen and throbbing and the rim of my bulb was itching, just like when my dick is jacked off, but it was different getting it sucked. It felt different being in his mouth instead of being held by a hand. And it was way dirtier having my dick in his mouth, and way hotter. I told him I was getting that feeling again but this time he didn't stop.

A few seconds later I told him I was going to do it and he pulled his mouth off my dick but he kept it open and right in front of my dick so when I began to spurt it spurted right in his mouth and all over his tongue! That was really hot! He leaned forward again then and wrapped his lips about my bulb once more as I continued to spurt, filling his mouth with my stuff. He swallowed it when I was done, and then continued to suck and to slide his lips up and down my cock, sucking out the rest of my cum and swallowing it too. It was wild!

And then we exchanged positions. I wasn't as eager to suck his, but he had sucked mine, and had swallowed my cum so I figured I sortta owed him. I did as he did and licked it first, and it didn't taste at all bad. Maybe a little salty, but not really any different from say sucking your thumb which sometimes I do when I bang it or get a thorn or something. I then opened my mouth and slipped my lips over his bulb but I gagged as I started to go farther down and had to slide my lips back up and off. He told me to just put the tip in my mouth and to breathe through my nose a few times and then to suck on it, and when I was comfortable with that to slip my lips down further and stop and breathe and suck, and put his whole bulb in my mouth and do the same, and then go down on his shaft as far as I could and still be comfortable. So I did what he said. It took a while but I managed to get his bulb and a little bit of his shaft in my mouth. His is really long and thick and that was only about a quarter of it.

Anyway, I sucked on it and slipped my lips back and forth over his knob and the top of his shaft, and after a bit he told me he was going to squirt and to clamp my lips about his bulb like he'd done mine. I did and after the longest time he said to continue. So I did, and the next time he said to slip my lips off when he said but to keep my mouth open, and I knew what that meant! He said when he started to spurt to slip my lips back over his bulb and let him fill my mouth.

His first spurt shot along my tongue right to the back of it. It was hot and thick and slimy and followed by a second and a third. I was so stunned I forgot to slip my lips back over his dick and his fourth shot was in the front of my mouth and overflowed over my bottom lip and down over my chin. I quickly leaned forward and caught the remainder in my mouth. His cum had sort of a fishy taste to me, like tuna, and the thickness reminded me of egg white from a freshly cracked egg which was sort of gross. Anyway, once he stopped I swallowed it and it all flowed down my throat at once, sort of like Jello that hasn't quite set. I felt gooseflesh on my arms and legs and my dick, which was still stiff, wagged with excitement. I then continued to suck on his dick, sucking out the rest of his cum from his peehole until I had sucked him dry. When I finished, my mouth was all puckered and his stuff stuck to the roof of my mouth and my gums and teeth.

We lay there side by side on his bed then, my pajamas about my ankles and his boxers about his knees, and we talked about sucking and cum and girls and guys and a lot of things. He asked what I thought about sucking and I told him it felt good having it done to me and was way different from jacking off and was sort of hot doing it to him but sort of yucky too. He said he loved the taste of my dink and that my cum was sweet and most young guys' cum was. He said smoking and eating red meat spoiled the taste. The really hot thing about it he said was being the very first one to suck me off. He asked if I was sorry we'd tried it and I told him I was glad we had and that I was real glad he was the first one to do it with me, and that I really appreciated him being willing to let me try stuff. He said trying stuff for the very first time was really hot and being able to be part of my first time really pleased him.

We talked about girls and why they aren't as eager to do sex as guys are, and we talked about guys who are gay and guys who are bisexual and others who are transgendered, which I didn't quite understand, and how just trying stuff for the first time, experimenting he called it, didn't mean anything about a guy's orientation, which he explained meant if a guy liked girls or boys or both. We talked about why adults say sex is just for adults and kids shouldn't do nothing or know nothing, and he said society really screwed things up by making a big deal about two guys just experimenting and enjoying being guys and enjoying squirting. He really got into a rant about how society and parents made boys feel guilty for just doing things that are natural and how the laws were made to discriminate against guys who just liked being young and being with young boys, and a lot of stuff I really didn't understand. Then he apologized and said he hadn't meant to lecture and I told him I didn't mind and it was cool being able to talk to someone about stuff like this cuz most adults wouldn't or would get all up tight about it. He said it was even more fun doing stuff than talking about it, and he reached over and slipped his fingers about my wiener and began to tug on it. It started to swell right away and I reached over and wrapped my fingers about his dick and it began to swell right off too.

He swung around so we were facing each other but lying in opposite directions and he took my wiener and began flicking his tongue at it and licking it. He was taller than I of course so I had to snuggle up a bit so my face was in his crotch and so I could do the same to him. I held his cock out and I licked his bulb and I kissed it and nibbled on it with my lips, like I'd seen in the video of the woman doing the man. When I thought about the videos, I was glad I was a guy and had a dick. Her vulva had looked gross and slimy and I couldn't imagine licking it, which Dimitri said some men did. The video of two guys doing it was much hotter, and as I thought about it my dick really began to swell. I don't know what Dimitri was thinking about but his was swelling fast too. He slipped his lips over my wiener and began to suck and slide his lips up and down it and I did the same to him.

It had been great doing each other, and it was great doing each other at the same time. My dick was throbbing and burning in no time and it was really hot knowing his dick was feeling the same way as mine. I concentrated on how good it felt having him sucking mine, and how great it was sucking his, and how great it was being able to make him feel as great as he was making me feel, and when I started to spurt a second time so did he and we filled each other's mouth and swallowed each other's cum together. I fell asleep with the taste of his dick and cum in my mouth, and with the taste of mine in his. I curled up next to his body. It was warm. I reached down and cupped his dick and nuts. They were warm and damp. As I felt his fingers wrap about my balls I was glad I was a boy.

The next Wednesday Justin had returned from his holiday and we had two normal games of chess. It was okay, but I missed the sex part. Dimitri asked Justin if he had worn the swimsuit he had given him and Justin said he had, and Dimitri asked if it had attracted any girls and Justin said he had to fight them off. Dimitri asked if he fought them very hard, and Justin smiled and said no. I felt a little weird listening to their talk about girls and I thought maybe I had been wrong about Dimitri and Justin having a thing going between them. I was real uncomfortable about the talk about girls because after the sleep over I wasn't so sure if I was really interested in girls like I had thought that I was. I did have a strange dream Sunday night which I shared with them. I dreamt I was sort of flirting with some of the girls in our school and in my class, and that I had slipped off with one of the girls who is really stacked and we started to make out. When we got to the part where we were about to do it, I pulled down her panties and her bun really looked like a bun, not like a slit between her legs like in pictures, but like a long wiener bun with one end attached her to body and the rest sticking out like a guy's wiener but unlike a guy's wiener it was split down the centre. I figured in my dream that her cunt wasn't right and when I put my wiener in her bun I woke up. They laughed and Justin said he didn't know if that was a wet dream or a nightmare and Dimitri said maybe it was something I'd ate, and when he looked at me I knew what he was thinking and I turned all red.

The next day I headed out on holiday with my parents and my sisters. My parents like to sightsee and to explore new areas and so do I and my sisters. This year we travelled to Utah and Nevada. At the end of the first week we ended up at the Watchman Campground in Zion National Park. It was like thirty-five degrees C during the day and twenty-five at night! Thank God our trailer had airconditioning! While we were hiking and photographing one of the canyons the next day, we came across a kid painting. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt with the word "Metalica" in silver thread and black jeans so tight you could see the crack of his buns and his package. His hair was long and jet black and combed in a whoosh across the right side of his face and over his right eye and had a deep blue streak in the middle. He was wearing black eyeliner and blue lipstick. We paused to look at his painting. I looked at him.

"That painting is totally awesome!" said my older sister, Janine, and Mom and Dad agreed.

"It looks so real," agreed my younger sister Jessica.

"Oh yeah, that is so totally lit!" I agreed.

"That too," agreed Dad, "whatever that means."

The three of us looked at him and rolled our eyes and made a face, jokingly of course. He's cool and we're used to his humour.

"Thanks," he said, glancing at all of us appreciatively before turning back to his painting.

We continued on up the canyon. "That boy is brilliant," observed Mom.

"That was a boy?" asked Dad.

"Daaaad," Janine groaned.

"Well, it's hard to tell. A lot of girls are flat at his age. And that eyeliner and makeup. Actually, now I think of it, it's hard to tell his age," he joked.

"He's an emo, Dad!"

"Eskimo? I thought they were dark."

The three of us rolled our eyes. Dad's lit, but sometimes his jokes are really wank. That night we strolled the campsite after supper as we usually did when we are out camping. Watchman is in the desert part of the park and I spotted him sitting on a folding stool over in the shade of I think a Joshua tree or something with his easel. As the family continued I walked over to him.

"That's wicked," I observed, looking at his easel. "It's like you could jump right in the picture."

"Thanks."

"Sorry to interrupt. It's just you're such an exceptional painter."

"Keep up the complements and you can interrupt me all you want."

"Serious. I don't want to distract you."

"It's okay. Actually it's no distraction at all. I like to talk to people, and landscapes don't take a lot of concentration. But I hope you don't mind if I keep painting while I talk. The colours change so fast in this light and I want to catch this before the sun goes down."

"For me talking would be a big distraction, and painting would take all my concentration. Actually, if you ever saw my painting you'd have to really concentrate to figure out what it was."

"You like to paint?"

"No. I like to look at paintings, but I'm no good at it."

"What are you good at?"

I had to think for a moment. "Chess. And writing, stories and stuff. English is my favourite subject in school."

"That's cool. My best friend likes to write too. He writes mostly fantasy. You know, knights fighting dragons and rescuing beautiful maidens. And poetry. You?"

"Mysteries. Science fiction. I like reading poetry but I've never tried writing any."

"What grade you in?"

"I'm going into grade eight. You?"

"Grade nine," he said. "Kiki." He extended his hand. I extended mine, not sure what he meant. "My name," he explained. "I think my parents were high on crystal meth or grass or something when they chose my name. Of course they're both actors."

"Jeremy," I said, introducing myself. "Where are you from?"

"New York City. My parents are on Broadway. You? I don't recognize your accent."

"Me? Accent? Canadian. Calgary, Alberta. I was thinking it was you who had the accent."

He laughed. "You're a long way from home."

"Yeah. So are you. My parents like to camp and explore new places every summer. So do I actually."

"Mine are into the environment, big time. We camp whenever they can take a break from the theatre. Sometimes it's in the middle of the school year, which is fine with me," he said with a smile. He had a big mouth and a wide grin that really did stretch from ear to ear like some authors describe. His blue lipstick accented his lips.

"I bet it is. Don't I wish my parents would take holidays on school time," I said. "Bet your favourite subject in school is art."

"Naw. The teacher sucks big time. She can't teach me nothing. In fact I could teach her."

"Bet you could." I wasn't just being polite. He was really talented. "So you like camping?"

"Oh yeah. It's savage."

I squatted there and tried to think of something more to say. There were things I wanted to, but I wasn't sure how to bring them up. "Problem with camping is sometimes I miss my friends back home." As soon as I said it I felt like kicking myself. I didn't know much about emo guys, but they're supposed to be lonely and have no friends, so lonely they cut their wrists and stuff and cry a lot, though I didn't see any scars on his wrists or his arms. He was skinny though. Really skinny. Skin and bones.

"Yeah. But it's nice too, not having a bunch of girls hovering around you all the time."

"Yeah, there's that." It was an opening, but how to steer the conversation in that direction? "You have a lot of girls hovering around you?"

"You know how it is. Girls see a guy like me and right away they want to be friends. They figure since I like nice things, like clothes and artsy stuff, I'm safe."

"Safe?"

"That since I'm not interested in the usual guy stuff, like screwing and trucks and screwing and sports and screwing and whatever, that I'm not going to pressure them to get in their pants."

"Oh. Actually girls don't feel much pressure with me either. I'm not into macho stuff either."

"It's not that I'm gay or nothing."

"Oh."

"Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. It's just that when someone, girls and guys, sees a guy who's emo they think he's a faggot right away. Just because I like more delicate things and I don't mind showing my emotions and I'm not afraid to cry it don't mean I'm queer. I know some emo guys are, and that's fine if that's their thing. I don't care whose pants they're hot to get into. That's just not me."

"Yeah. Guys make judgements on another guy's looks and behaviour. So do girls." I said. I felt guilty. I had guessed with his makeup and hair and liking artsy stuff he was gay. I was hoping he was someone I could talk to about that stuff. Maybe even do something with. I was disappointed he wasn't.

"Sorry. I'll get off my soap box now."

"Huh?"

"That's an expression my parents use. An old one I think. It means standing up and lecturing about something you're passionate about."

"Oh. That's okay. I can see you're passionate about the topic. There's nothing wrong with standing up for what you believe."

"I am passionate. That's why I'm an emo."

"You're okay with that? I mean, being, well, you get a rough time, dressing like that, and stuff?" God I felt like a moron and a red neck. I wanted to find a rock and crawl under it.

"Yeah, I'm okay with it, for the most part. Some girls give me a rough time all right, telling me I should have an operation and stuff if I want to be a girl. And I get more than the usual share of bullying, guys making fun of me, telling to go cut myself, or to go in a corner and cry. I think some of them actually want me to off myself. And a lot of guys, and adults, think I'm gay, and you know the rough time guys who are gay have."

"Ah, yeah, I do."

"Not that I think it's wrong to be gay, like I said," he said quickly. "If guys wanna have sex with other guys, I say go for it. Some of my best friends are emo and gay and I love them. Others are emo and straight and I love them too, and some of my closest friends aren't emo but are as bent as a jagged line."

"Yeah. It's their business and nobody else's."

"Knew you'd understand."

"You did?"

"Sure. I'm in touch with my own emotions, and I'm sensitive to others' emotions. I can tell when a guy is understanding and sensitive. You don't have to dress like an emo and swoosh your hair to be a considerate and caring person."

"That's true. Well, anyway, I'd better let you get back to your painting. I've interrupted you way too much."

"I enjoyed it. The sun's setting," he said, looking up at the sky. "It'll be too dark in another couple minutes anyway." I forgot how fast it turns dark the further south you go. He packed up his easel and painting stuff and we headed back to the campsites. "My campsite's that way," he nodded as I turned to head up the road.

I turned to say goodnight and he leaned into me and kissed me, long and tender, on the lips. So long I had to reach out to steady myself. "Good night, Jeremy. It's been lit talking to you," he said. "And remember, there's absolutely nothing wrong with being gay."

"Nite," I said. I didn't know what else to say, and he was too far away for me to say something anyway. I walked back to the campsite. Mom and Dad and Jessica were in the trailer. Janine was just returning from the washrooms.

"Well, you certainly spent a long time talking to our resident artist. Dad was about to send a search party out for you. What did you have so much to talk–oh my God! He kissed you! He did, didn't he!"

"Not so loud," I whispered.

"Oh my God! He did! Your lips are blue! On the lips! Oh my God!" She giggled. "You better go to the washroom and wash your mouth." She giggled louder. "Your lips." She broke out into uncontrolled laughter. She handed me her washcloth and towel.

"Not a word," I warned.

Janine pursed her lips and made a zipping motion, and then bust out giggling again as she turned and headed to the trailer. When I looked in the mirror, my lips were a very definite blue, as if I'd put on lipstick but a little crooked. My face was bright red, and it wasn't a sunburn. Bright red and dark blue. I looked like a clown. I washed my face and got lipstick all over the washcloth. It took a lot of scrubbing to get it out. Why? Why? My heart was a lump in my chest when I walked back to the trailer and opened the door.

"Well," said Dad. "We were about to send out a search party when Janine told us you were back. We thought maybe you'd gotten eaten by a coyote or something."

"Or something," giggled Janine and I felt my face turning red again.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late, and I forgot how fast it gets dark down south. You know how it is, when you get talking and stuff."

"Especially the and stuff," said Janine with a giggle.

"That emo boy hasn't corrupted you, has he?" asked Mom. "You're not going to let your hair grow long and hang in front of your eyes and dye a red stripe down it or something are you?"

"Noooo," I said with a pained look. God, that's the sort of expression an emo would have! I changed my look to a normal look. At least what I thought was a normal look. "We were just talking. He's really very interesting, and smart."

"Well, that's why we travel every summer if we can. Travel broadens the mind and you get to meet different people and learn new things," Dad said. "And we got a busy day tomorrow, so everyone off to bed."

Mom and Dad sleep in the main bed at one end of the trailer and Jessica and Janine sleep in the bunk beds at the other end. I change into my pajamas in the bathroom and sleep on the pullout sofa. I was the last and said goodnight to everyone as I reached for the light switch. Janine's "goodnight" was accompanied by a pucker and a blown kiss.

We headed out on a hike first thing in the morning while it was still cool. When we returned I made a circuit of the campsite but I had no idea what sort of unit Kiki had. There were no New York state license plates. I had been disappointed to find out Kiki wasn't gay last night. I was even more disappointed that he had left and there was no way to get in touch with him. There was so much more I wanted to talk about. About being emo. About being gay. So many questions. Why did he think I was gay? What did I say and do to make him think that? What did he know about his friends who were gay? What did he think about a kid doing stuff with an older guy, a guy almost twice his age? Why did he think a guy would do that? I hadn't had a chance to tell him I wasn't gay. I'm not. I don't think anyway. I thought about him all day and all the time we were at Zion Park and all the way to Lake Mead. Mom asked again if I was going to start dressing like "the painter" and Janine teased me and asked if I wanted to start borrowing her makeup until I bought my own and I got mad and Dad had to tell us to stop.

"I'm sorry," she said that night when we were alone. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings!" I snapped.

"I didn't mean to make fun of your friendship with that boy."

"What friendship? We just met and we talked, that's it. I only knew him for an evening! We didn't have a friendship."

"You kissed."

"You know what guys like him are like. Better than I do. He was just… just… "

"It's none of my business, and I'm sorry, Jeremy. I really, really am. And it's okay. Really. You're a great brother, and a really, kind, sensitive, gentle boy. Just know I love you, and I'm here for you if you need me, if you need to talk, or anything. You've nothing to be ashamed of, or to be ashamed about."

How do you respond to something like that? While I stood there with my mouth open trying to think of what to say Janine turned and walked away.

Chapter 17
Jeremy's Coming Out – 2/2

Jeremy is attracted to a homophobic black boy and returning home finds himself attracted to other boys.  He wonders why and how one can tell if a person is gay and turns to a chat room and gay youth forum before asking his classmates and friends who begin wondering why he is asking.  Invited to a science centre and a sleep over by a gay 12 yo classmate.  On Thanksgiving day he comes out to his family. 
Characters: Jeremy and Aaron (12)
Codes: b/b

Lake Mead was a pleasant change from Zion. We explored the area and hiked the trails of course, but we spent most of the time in the water with the heat wave Utah and Nevada were having. A lot of guys chatted up Janine. She was attractive and she had a nice body, nice sized boobs, a narrow waist and shapely thighs, all nicely displayed in a two-piece swim suit. There were plenty of girls my age or older, stacked, and some in swim suits that were barely more than strings and patches barely covering their nipples and their pussies. They were hot, real hot, but I found it hard to have a conversation with them. They were hardly interested in a twelve-year-old to begin with, and even less interested in one who was into chess and reading mysteries and writing science fiction. There was a youth group who was tenting in the group area of our campground from an organization called Concrete to Nature or something, an organization that sponsored kids from cities whose families could not afford to go on holidays to the parks and stuff like we did. This group was from Chicago and all black, boys and girls, from a bit younger than I to a year or two older than Janine.

There was one guy there, I figured a year younger than I, really dark and always sort of angry looking and usually sitting alone, and usually smoking a cigarette if there were no adult supervisors in sight. There was something about him, the darkness of his skin or his attitude or something that I found arousing and from the first time I'd noticed him I'd wondered what his dick looked like and if it was as dark as the rest of his body or if it was pinker like the palms of his hands or the soles of his feet, and I wondered what it would taste like. I had the dumb idea that it might taste like licorice. We have blacks in Calgary of course, but few in Saint Joseph's and none I knew personally.

"Want a drag?" he asked, offering me his cigarette.

Sucking on the cigarette, my lips where his just were, my spit and his spit, sent a quiver up my wiener. "No thanks. I don't smoke."

He shrugged, took a deep drag and formed an "O" with his lips, and blew the smoke out in rings. I tried to think of something to say to start up a conversation. I didn't suspect he was interested in chess or story writing either. I couldn't stop thinking how hot he looked and wondering about his dick.

"What yo starin' at? Yo never seen a coloured guy befo or somethin'?" he asked with sort of a sneer and like he had a chip on his shoulder.

"Yeah, of course I have," I said defensively and taken aback a bit by his attitude and his aggressiveness.

"Yo got a weird accent. Yo from out west or somethin'?"

I had a weird accent? His was very thick, like you sometimes hear black people speak on television, and with a nasal twang. "Canada," I said. "Alberta."

"Hmm. Yo folks must be rich to travel all the way here."

I wanted to tell him we were just average. That my dad was a department head in an advertising company, an important one, and my mom a secretary, and they worked hard and saved their money so we could travel. I wanted to tell him he needn't be so ornery and insulting. Instead I just shrugged.

He took another long drag and blew more circles. "So what yo want?"

"Want? Nothing. I just thought maybe you'd like to talk or something is all."

"Just talk, huh? I seen ya hangin' round, starin' at me." He studied me and I shuffled from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you," I said as I took a step back.

"How old are yo?"

"Twelve. I'll be thirteen," I said. I was going to say in November but I didn't. "You?"

"Eleven." He studied me, from head to toe. "Crap. Yo queer aintcha?" He didn't give me time to answer. "That's why yo been starin' at me. Thinkin' maybe the nigger will suck yo cock like some little slave boy. Maybe wonderin' if I'm as hung as people say black boys are. Maybe yo thinkin' of having a bit o' dark meat are yo? Crap!"

"I wasn't thinking any such thing," I lied. "Why are you so angry? Every time I see you you're always looking mad."

"Yo wanna make me feel better, white boy? Maybe suck yo white dick yo fuckin' queer. Jeezus, yo kind give me the creeps." He tossed his cigarette butt on the grass and ground it out with his runner. He spat on the ground barely missing my shoe and turned and stomped off down the road. I don't think he meant to miss.

I thought about him the rest of the day, the rest of our holiday, all the way back home. He made me angry. I was just being friendly. I didn't hit on him or anything. Why was he so quick to call me names and want to pick a fight? What happened in his life to make him so bitter, and why take it out on me? He got my temper up just thinking about him. All I wanted to do was talk to him. And, well, yeah, maybe mess around. I was just curious, him being black and everything. And yeah, feeling horny. I hadn't had no sex since we left on holiday. As I calmed down I realized I wasn't mad just because he was so insulting and everything. I was mad because he had been right. I had found him hot, his looks and his attitude, sitting there smoking, acting like he was so cool and adult. I had wondered what his dick would look like, and taste like. I had wondered what it would be like to do stuff with him, with a black boy.

As I sat there staring out the window at the scenery but not really seeing it I realized I really wasn't mad at him either. I was mad at myself. All those girls at Lake Mead with boobs the size of watermelons and tiny little patches covering their privates and who do I have the hots for and strike up a conversation with? A black boy. An eleven-year-old black boy. I hadn't even thought about sticking my dick up their pussies or grabbing a feel of their boobs, but I had thought about another boy's dick. Why? Why were boys turning me on? What was wrong with me? Was I missing messing around with Dimitri? We'd only jacked off twice. And sucked each other twice. That was all, and we were just trying it. I'm no queer.

But Kiki had figured I was. He didn't come out and say it, but he talked as if he figured I was, and he had kissed me. I had enjoyed that, him kissing me. It had felt good and comfortable and the right thing to do, and it made my wiener twitch. He had been so nice, why had I said that insult about him? "You know what guys like him are like." Why did I feel so guilty and ashamed saying that about him? Janine figured I was gay, and didn't seem surprised. She didn't exactly say it, but could tell that was what she was thinking. And this nigger I never met before figured I was queer after just a minute. What was it about me that made people think that? Why hadn't I been boning up and daydreaming about all the hot looking girls at Lake Mead and trying to get in their pants? Every guy I knew in my class would have been all over them. And why was I so interested suddenly in messing around with guys? Three months ago I never thought about messing with anyone, guy or girl.

We returned home on a Sunday. Wednesday we would have normally had a chess game and I was going to check with Justin if he was going to Dimitri's, or phone Dimitri and let him know I was back, but I didn't. I wondered all day if the two of them were meeting. It was dumb but I felt jealous if they were. School resumed on Tuesday, Monday being Labour Day. It being our first day back the clubs hadn't started yet but I did hang around the gym and the lockers looking for Justin and talked to him. He said he and Dimitri had played chess a couple times while I was away but mostly they took a break. I don't know why, but I felt better hearing that. That week went by fast adjusting to a new schedule and getting used to going to classes again and meeting friends we hadn't seen over the summer and catching up on what we all did. Well, some of the things we did. I didn't mention anything to Justin about Dimitri and me meeting a couple times while he was on holiday and what we'd done, especially about what we'd done, and I didn't talk about Kiki and the black boy from Chicago. I did think about them, a lot, both of them. And about me.

The second Tuesday back from school we had our first meeting of the chess club. Mostly it was a meeting to explain things to new students, mostly students who were in grade seven and new to Saint Joseph's Academy, and find out who was still in the club. Mister Whiting said he was glad Justin and I were continuing and asked how our summer had been and asked Justin how he was finding Grade Ten Math. That night I got a call from Dimitri saying that his Wednesdays after school were still free and he was hoping "we can continue from where we left off in the summer." I wasn't sure if he meant what I thought he meant by that, or if he was just talking about chess. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue where we had left off, and I didn't mean chess. The little bit of stuff we'd done had been, well, informative, and an experience, and had felt good. He hadn't been threatening and hadn't done anything to force me to do what we'd done, or had been manipulative or anything like they warn you about guys who prey on kids. He was nothing like the creeps they show in videos warning you about abusers. In fact he was like an older brother explaining stuff guys wonder about and are curious about. But I was uncomfortable about what we had done. It was wrong. He was almost twice my age, and we were both guys, and what we'd done was dirty. I know it was against the law. That part didn't really bother me. There's lots of things that are against the law that I know people do, like speeding, and smoking, and why it's against the law for an adult and a kid to have sex I don't understand. What did bother me was that people didn't think it was normal, older guys doing stuff with boys, and guys doing stuff together. Well, most people thought it was wrong, the guys doing stuff with each other part anyway, but not everybody. Not Kiki. Not Janine. I wondered if he'd phoned Justin too, and if they'd done anything more than play chess while I was away.

Anyway, Justin was waiting for me outside the school the next day and we biked over to Dimitri's place. This time he didn't warn me about Dimitri doing anything funny like he had warned me all the other times before summer. It was like the first time we'd played chess, in his family room, and his mom brought us milk and those real sweet cookies she makes, and seemed really happy to see us again. I still got a weird feeling sitting there talking about school and my summer and stuff and eating her cookies and thanking her for the milk knowing that her twenty-three-year-old son and I had jacked each other off and had sucked each other's cock this summer. The next Wednesday was the same and I began to wonder if that was it, if Dimitri had simply known I was curious about stuff and had helped me find out what it was like, if there was nothing more to it than that. I should have been relieved if it was, but I wasn't, and I didn't know why I wasn't, and I wasn't sure why I should have been relieved.

Saturday afternoon I biked up to Nose Hill. It was another hot day and few people were out, Nose Hill being left in its natural state and there being few trees for shade. There were two boys at the top, a chubby boy around my age and a skinny boy a couple years younger. I stopped and we talked, about biking and the heat and the view and stuff.

"There aren't many people out here today," I observed.

"Because of the heat, and the coyotes probably," the older boy said.

"Coyotes?"

"Yeah. Your folks know you biked up here alone?" he asked.

"I didn't exactly tell them where I was going. I just told them I was going biking. I didn't know I'd end up here myself actually."

"My dad says I shouldn't come up here alone, on account there's been a lot of coyotes sighted around here, and they say they're ornery and hungry because of the heat."

"Thanks for telling me," I said, looking around. "I'll remember that. It makes sense. The heat doesn't make me hungry, but it is making me ornery, and hornery," I added. I don't know why I said that. The corner of the older boy's mouth curled a bit, which made me relieved about saying it. I don't know if the younger boy knew what the word meant.

"Usually it's hot girls that do that to me, not hot weather," he said with a grin. "They say this is the hottest summer in Calgary's history." Sweat was beading on his forehead and the back and underarms of his shirt were dark with sweat. I thought about his nuts, being fat, and being hot.

"It gets my nuts hot, and all sweaty," I said. "Girls and the weather, like now," I said suggestively, reaching in my shorts and scratching my nuts. They were hot and sweaty. I wondered if his were. I wondered what they smelled like. Neither boy said anything. "It really makes me want to get one off when they get like that, you know."

"You need a cold shower."

"Yeah, but getting one off feels better," I said with a leer.

"Well, I don't see any girls around," the older boy said.

"That's why God made thumbs." I'd heard an older guy say that in the school yard, before it meant anything to me.

"That's dirty," said the younger boy, speaking up for the first time.

"Yeah, well, you can always wash your hands later," I joked, adding as an afterthought, "or use someone else's hand."

The older boy looked at me curiously. I wondered if his dick was short and fat, like him. I wouldn't mind jerking off with him. He was probably wondering if I really did it. Maybe wondering what mine looked like and what it would be like doing it with me, maybe to me. My dick began to swell. I pulled my hand away and purposely let them see the bulge.

"You just give yourself a boner?" asked the younger boy with a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Thinking of squirting does that," I dared to say. "Can either of you squirt?"

"Com'on, let's go," said the older boy.

"That's bad, touching yourself," observed the younger boy.

"You should try it. If you did you'd find it's not bad at all," I said defensively. "There's nobody around," I observed, glancing around. "And you'd see them coming before they see you cumming," I observed wittily.

"I'm not interested," the older boy said abruptly, definitely disapproving. He pushed off and began coasting down the bike path.

His friend quickly followed. "Pervert," he said as he caught up to the older boy. I don't know if he was commenting to the other boy, or addressing me.

What did they know? Chicken shits. If they tried it once they'd see. And if someone did it to them they wouldn't be so smug. But who would want to? Nobody would want to have sex with the fat boy, girl or boy, and the younger one was all so pure and all. They certainly didn't turn me on. So why had I said the things I'd said and done the things I'd done? Why had I even thought about jacking off with the older boy, or jacking him off? This heat was making me horny. And ornery. And frying my mind. I'd come up here because I enjoyed the view and the wilderness and I headed back down the path angrily. The two had ruined my day for me.

The next day I took Jessica and her friend to the water park. She insisted they could go by themselves but Mom insisted either I or my sister had to accompany them, and Janine wasn't around. So while they splashed around with all the other kids I sat there and watched them bored out of mind. There were mostly families there, mostly moms with little kids, preschoolers and preteens. There were a few teens my age or older who came by and cooled off racing through the sprinklers and chasing each other, trying to soak each other with the water guns. One girl around my age really got soaked and her T clung to her body. You could really see the shape of her boobs, and she had a nice set, round and firm, the size of soup bowls. I tried to imagine what it would be like to step up behind her and hold them in my hands. To suck them.

There was another kid, a boy about ten, who sat on one of the fountains just before it erupted. I wondered how it felt, having blast of cold water spurting up against your asshole and blasting you between the legs. I thought of how it felt to squirt and I imagined squirting my stuff up his asshole, and against the underside of his nuts, and over his nuts and wiener. I remembered how hot and slimy Dimitri's cum felt and I popped a boner. I was wearing my shorts and anyone looking close it would be obvious. I tried to think of something else but my mind kept coming back to the boy sitting on the fountain. Fortunately Jessica and her friend didn't notice and biking home the friction against my underwear was painful and it went down. The girl in the wet T hadn't done a thing for me. The ten-year-old boy sitting on the spout of water gave me a bone. Why? I didn't like the answer that came to my mind. I didn't like it one bit.

As a treat for looking after my younger sister, my mother took us to the Dairy Queen for a blizzard. And I think as a treat for herself after working all afternoon in the yard. As we waited to get served, there was a boy at one of the tables with his parents, a boy of about four or five, licking an ice cream cone. He had ice cream all over his cheeks and his chin, like boys that age do. I immediately imagined him holding my stiff dick and swirling his tongue around my bulb and my cum squirting in his face and all over his lips and tongue and cheek until he looked just like he did now, but it was cum, not ice cream. I immediately popped a boner and my dick ached when I pictured myself kneeling down there at his table and licking his little cock. Thinking of doing it under the table without his parents knowing made me even hotter. As I walked out of the Dairy Queen with my blizzard in one hand and hiding my crotch with the other hand my underwear really chaffed against my dickhead and I walked like I was walking on broken glass. It felt like the front of my shorts were filled with broken glass.

At school on Monday there were rumours about some older guys ganging up on Cory Carson and beating the crap out of him for being a faggot. He wasn't at school so everyone figured it was probably true. I asked some of my closer friends how a guy could tell if another guy was really gay. They said dumb stuff like "his breath smells like cock" and "his asshole is so big from being fucked he can't keep his crap in." One guy said that was true and that his uncle said that was what happened to young good-looking guys in prison and that they had to wear an asshole plug their asshole muscle was so loose. Other guys said obvious things, like fags get turned on by boys and look at nude pictures of guys instead of girls and stuff which was obvious but didn't tell you the guy was gay unless you were with them when they did it.

Those answers also described me, which was really upsetting. Really, I was actually asking what tipped a person off that a guy was gay, wondering about myself of course. Others said a gay acts like a girl or dresses like a girl, or wants to be a girl. Cory Carson had dressed like a girl at his prom, though others said it wasn't because he was gay but because he had lost a bet, and others said he had been forced to do it, though they didn't know why or who forced him. Some said it was Justin Bromley and it was to get back at Cory for bullying him all the time, but nobody knew what Justin had on Cory to make him do it. Nobody thought Justin was gay. I asked. That was not me. I didn't want to be a girl. Just the opposite. I was glad I was a guy and I had a dick. I certainly didn't want to dress like a girl. That made me feel better, but it didn't answer my question.

We played chess on Tuesday at the club and on Wednesday at Dimitri's and I watched Justin real close but he didn't say or do anything that indicated that he was gay, or that he had ever done anything with a guy. I thought back to the things he'd said the day we'd played Ask and Tell and I was tempted to suggest we play that again. There were definite questions I'd like to ask him, but he and I didn't play each other so I'd never get the chance unless I asked Dimitri and Dimitri copied me. I didn't suggest it. Dimitri or Justin might ask me the same questions, and I didn't like the answers I'd have to give.

I was so desperate I took a chance and signed into a gay teen chat room and posted on a gay teen forum, asking how a guy knows if he is gay. The responses were disappointing. "If you are here you probably are." "You just do." Most of the guys in the chat room used the room to preach their own pet peeves about other gays or about straight guys. I found many were frequent participants and being the new individual in the room I got a lot of "private" requests, which at first I thought was great but I quickly found out almost every one of them were guys looking to hook up for sex and they all began by asking for my stats, dick size, if I could cum, if I jerked, where I lived, things like that. Those in the general discussion room I found made catty and snarky remarks about each other.

As for my question nobody gave a clear answer. Some said the obvious. Try sex with a guy and if you like it then you're gay. Others said a lot of the guys that visit the chat room are gay curious. A lot claimed to be bi but others said that was just a copout and that those who said they were bi just didn't want to admit they were gay. I found that despite the rules and the monitors, some of the guys weren't even teens but were adults cruising for young guys. By the end of the week I decided going on line was useless. Besides, I had to drop out and switch sites every time Mom and Dad passed by and then go through the process of entering all over again when they turned away, which really made it difficult to have any type of continuous communication. Someone even observed that I was popping in and out of the room like a rabbit and asked if my parents were "hovering".

At school, guys were starting to avoid me. I never was popular, being a bit of a nerd and all and not into sports or other things guys are into, but even other nerds stopped talking when I approached and they sat anywhere else in the cafeteria than beside me. I had no idea why. It wasn't my breath or my armpits. I know because I cupped my hand in front of my mouth and breathed out with my mouth and inhaled with my nose, and I felt my armpits and sniffed my fingers. It had to be the other reason, which drove me crazy because I had no idea what I was doing that made them think I was a fag. When nothing happened at chess with Dimitri and Justin that week I gave up.

On Thursday several of us in my English class were asked to read short stories we had submitted at the end of the previous week, and I was one of them which perked me up somewhat. After class several classmates commented on how much they'd enjoyed my story. At noon one of my classmates, Aaron O'Brian, came over and asked if I was expecting someone in the seat across from me, and when I said no he sat down.

"That story you read in class was really lit," he said. "The best of everyone's."

"Thanks." I said with a shrug, pretending it was no big deal but pleased with the attention I was getting. Hearing 'the best of everyone's' was especially nice. "I enjoyed writing it."

"So where'd you get the idea what the aliens from Alpha Centauri were like?"

"I mostly made it up."

"Awesome. So you really like science fiction and stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Science is my favourite subject. I suck at writing though," he said with a smile. I smiled back. "Have you been to the Telus Spark?"

"Sure. But not for a long time."

"There's a great planetarium presentation at the Dome Theatre right now. My parents are taking me on Saturday. You wanna come along?"

"Sure," I said. The Telus Spark is a great science centre, and the Dome has awesome shows. And I don't get invited to do things with my classmates that often. Actually, hardly ever, even less lately. "I'll have to ask my parents of course."

"Sure. We're gonna go when it opens and spend all day there. It's sortta a reward."

"Reward?"

"Yeah. For, well, doing well in my… ah… lessons," he said evasively.

Well, I asked my parents and they said I could but they had to talk to Aaron's parents of course and the next day Aaron said that was no problem because he'd told them he'd invited me and they were glad he was bringing a friend. He confided sort of shyly that he didn't have that many close friends, and that I understood, him being a nerd like me. So they picked me up Saturday and we spent the whole day at the Spark. Dad gave me money for my admission and lunch but Aaron's dad insisted on paying for everything. We went to Dominos for pizza afterward and I found Aaron's favourite was vegetarian, with extra cheese, just like me.

Aaron asked if I'd like to have a sleep over that night and asked his parents if that was okay. I said sure, but I'd have to check with my parents, and I'd have to get my pajamas and toothbrush and stuff. So his dad phoned and my parents had no problem so we swung by our house and I picked up my overnight bag. I of course thought of my last sleep over, the one with Dimitri, but I quickly put that out of my mind. I wasn't going to say a word about gays or nothing or even think about them. This had been too perfect a day. So, when we got back to his place we went to his room. He has a whole shelf of games, mostly action hero games and he picked one of his favourites and we played it for a while.

"That was fun," I observed.

"Yeah. I love Marvel Superheros."

"Obviously," I said with a grin, looking at his collection of action figures and games and the posters on his wall.

He grinned back. "You ever write a story about superheros?"

"No, but I think it would be fun."

He looked across the room, like a guy who is thinking about something, and I figured I should say something about Marvel Superheros, but I didn't really know much about them.

"You've been asking around… about… about gays and stuff," he said in a whisper, looking at his Spiderman poster. I knew he wasn't asking Spiderman.

Oh God! Why did he have to bring that up? It had been such a perfect day. I should have spoken up and asked something about Superheros. Like which was his favourite or something. Dumb. Now it was too late.

"You ever read any slash fan fic?" he asked before I could answer.

"No," I responded, still flustered by his question out of the blue like that. From the past few weeks I had expected him to proceed to tell me how nasty gays were, and how they made him want to puke and I'd better not try anything with him when we went to bed or–.

"You know what slash fiction is?"

"No."

"Com'on."

We went to their family room. "We want to look up something about space stations on the computer, okay?" he asked. His mother was watching something on TV and his dad was reading a book. They said that was all right. Their computer was password protected and his dad came over and turned it on.

Aaron typed in an address and a site on the International Space Station came up. Then he typed in another, and a site called ASSTR or something came up, with a warning it was an adult site and you had to be eighteen. He typed in something else and scrolled down the list that came up and clicked on one of the titles. It was a TNG Star Trek story, about Captain Picard and Number One, passing through a cloud of some sort which got them horny for each other. It was a short story, four pages, and I never read anything like it! By the time I'd finished it I'd popped a boner. Aaron clicked the menu and another site. "These are all about Wesley Crusher," he said, a character on the TNG series. He scrolled down and clicked on one of the titles. The story made him a real wimp and being forced to do sex things to Worf, like suck him and stuff. They didn't sound anything like the characters in the TV series and I didn't care for it.

Suddenly Aaron clicked the bookmark button and clicked back to the Space Station. His dad had gotten up and leaned over to look at the screen and said it looked rather technical. Aaron agreed and clicked on the search button. His dad told us it was getting late and we had another fifteen minutes. When he went back to his chair, Aaron went back to the slash porn site. The next story was about Luke Skywalker and R2D2, which was really funny, and really vulgar. I mean really badass dirty! The last one was a DS9 story about Jake Sisko and the Ferengi Nog as teenagers by Aardon Beta which was really hot. We weren't able to finish it when Aaron hit the bookmark button again. His dad was approaching again. I realized that the glass on a photograph on the computer table reflected what was behind us so Aaron could see if either his mother or father were approaching.

"Ice cream and bananas for a snack before bed?"

"With chocolate and caramel syrup?"

"Just a little. You've already had your quota for sugar for the weekend. You'll be up all night."

I held my hand in front of me as we went to the kitchen and I had a hard time walking. I noticed so did Aaron. We ate and returned to his bedroom with the warning to go straight to bed. Aaron closed the door and took out his pajamas from his dresser and sat on the bed. I took mine out of my overnight bag and sat beside him. The bed was up against the wall and there wasn't really anywhere else to sit except for the chair at his desk.

"Oh maaan, I can't believe those sites! Savage!"

"They got some hot stories about the Marvel Superheros. I especially like the Superboy stories. When I heard you were asking a bunch of questions about gays and stuff I figured you might like the stories," he said as he began to unbutton his shirt.

Wrapping my arms about him, I bent over and kissed him, on the lips, long and sweet. I didn't think about it. I knew if I did I'd chicken out and I remembered how Kiki had kissed me so unexpectedly and spontaneously. If he didn't like it he could slap my face, or tell his dad to drive me home, or whatever. I figured it was the best way to thank him. As our lips parted, I prepared myself for the worse. I could feel my heart pounding high in my chest. He kissed me back. His breath was sweet and fresh and tasted of vanilla ice cream and bananas. I parted my eyes a slit and so did he and we stared into each other's eyes, still joined by the lips. His were a beautiful greenish-blue. We held each other tighter and kissed again, harder. Nibbling on his cheek, I nervously finished unbuttoning his shirt. My fingers were shaking with excitement. He unbuttoned mine and slipped his hands inside and massaged my back. His fingers were hot. Temperature type hot. I'd lost my bone as we'd eaten our snack, but it was back, twice as hard and aching thrice as badly.

I removed his shirt and pushed him back on his bed and half lying on him I smothered him with kisses, his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his ears. He did likewise as he struggled with my shirt and then my belt. Getting it unbuckled, he undid the button at the top of my jeans and pulled down my fly. I kissed his neck and snuggled down and kissed his chest and he pushed down my jeans and groped my crotch. My cock throbbed hotly in his hand, separated by the cloth of my briefs. I found one of his nipples and puckered my lips about it and sucked on it, causing him to squirm and twitch. I had his jeans unbuckled and his fly down and my fingers slipped under the elastic band of his underwear and wrapped about his stiff. It felt about the same size as mine and as I ran my tongue over his nipple his dick twitched. We reached up and pushed each other's underwear down, releasing our stiff cocks.

"I'd better shut off the light," he whispered, his voice husky. He got up and pushed his jeans and underwear the rest of the way down and stepped out of them. Leaving them there on the bed, he walked over to the light switch, his stiff cock pointing the way, the bulb covered with skin. It looked the same length and thickness as mine. His balls were in a dangling sack, and his hairs weren't quite as thick as mine and were a reddish blond, like the curly hair on his head. When he returned to the bed, he sat on the edge and pulled my jeans and underwear off and then my socks. He was still wearing his, the only thing he still had on.

He laid down beside me and we embraced and hugged and kissed, more gently now, not as urgently, and we caressed each other's back more slowly. We were lying on our sides and my arms and legs formed gooseflesh as he ran his right hand down my back and over the left cheek of my ass. He massaged it in concentric circles and I reached over with my left hand in that I was lying on my right arm and I cupped his buttock and drew him closer to me. We pressed our crotches together and our stiff cocks were trapped between our bellies and pressed against each other. I reached down and slipped my fingers and thumb about his dick and slowly and gently pulled his foreskin back, revealing his bulb. He cupped my balls with his hand and rolled them gently. They were hot and damp with sweat.

Rolling over on our backs, he began to stroke my cock with his left hand and I reached over with my right and stroked his. I stroked him slowly and he stoked mine at the same speed. We leaned over and kissed and nibbled each other and then pressed our lips together in a long, sweet kiss as we continued to stroke each other's cock. I was aching to squirt but I didn't want our lovemaking to end. That is what it was, lovemaking. It wasn't sex. It wasn't raw and lustful like the time Dimitri and I had jacked each other off. It was gently and loving. It felt so good holding his bone in my fingers, knowing the itch and desire he was feeling down there was the same as mine. That is the beauty of two guys fiddling with each other. I knew exactly the feelings and pleasure my stroking was causing him, and he knew the feelings and pleasure his stroking was bringing me. I didn't want it to end, but I didn't want to stop either. It felt too good to stop. We kissed, our lips barely touching, our hands moving in unison. I felt the pleasure pulsating between my legs grow numb and I knew I was going to come any moment. I knew I should say something, ask for some Kleenex or toilet paper or something, but I didn't want to speak and destroy the trance I was in. I knew if I didn't do something I was going to spray all over him or all over me, and all over the cover of his bed, but to stop would destroy the mood.

"Oh fuck!" he gasped, suddenly leaning over and fumbling with his jeans lying on the bed beside him.

He yanked out his handkerchief with his right hand and held it in front of his stiff cock just in time as he began to spurt. He squirted so hard I could feel his dick throbbing in my hand. His cum shot over and past the handkerchief and splatted the lower part of his chest. I twisted onto my side and pushed my dick, still being pumped by his left hand, toward his dick as I felt my cum race up the core of my cock and gush out the tip. I sprayed his dick and my fingers with my hot juice. Spurt after spurt squirted out, my gobs of slime joining his gobs in the handkerchief. Our chests were heaving like we'd been doing pushups and we were gasping for breath like mad as the two of us shot, my dick in his hand and his dick in mine, our fingers sticky and dripping with slime, mine with his and his with mine, a huge slimy puddle of his juice and mine cradled in the pocket of his handkerchief. My dick throbbed hotly and the tip burned with pleasure and I could feel the blood in his dick throbbing in my hand. We both lay there, enjoying the pleasure, our own and each other's, holding each other's numb, throbbing dick in our sticky fingers.

The slime on his chest and belly glistened in the moonlight shining in through the window. It cast shadows over his naked body and over mine, our hip bones shining white in the dark. Our dicks and balls were in dark shadows and barely visible and the room smelled of fresh cum and hot sweaty balls and teenage dick. He reached up with the sodden handkerchief to wipe off the bigger gobs of cum on his body and the puddle began to flow to the edge. I grabbed for it to stop it and instead tipped it and a gob oozed out and into his hairs like a blob of Jell-O, what was in the pocket following what had overflowed. We righted it and it almost overflowed on the other side. I wiped up the puddles on his chest and tried to soak up the big puddle in his hairs but there was too much and we were just smearing it all over ourselves. He giggled, causing me to, which caused him to giggle all the more as we lay there, naked except for his socks, our fingers sticky with each other's cum and our dicks now flaccid and laying along the crevice between our bellies and thighs and leaking the rest of our juice.

"Boys, it's time for sleep now," came his mother's voice on the other side of the door.

We froze as panic struck. We held our breaths, our ears straining. We were naked and on top of the coverlet and sheets. There was nothing we could cover ourselves with. The footsteps faded up the hall. We both let out our breaths and sighed with relief. We lay there for a bit, in case she returned, mostly to enjoy the warm flood of pleasure that washed over us, until our breaths returned to normal, and then Aaron slipped out of bed, being super quiet, and opened a drawer in his dresser and took out two handkerchiefs and we wiped off our fingers and bellies and tried to mop up a couple dark stains on the comforter but our juice had soaked in. Our slime was sticky but we didn't dare get up and go to the bathroom to wash up. I wanted to tell Aaron how great it was but I didn't want to speak and attract his parents. I reached over in the dark and finding his hand, I entwined my fingers with his, the sticky fingers of my jack off hand with the sticky fingers of his jack off hand. I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine.

He raised himself slowly and quietly on his elbow and leaned over and kissed me, gently and briefly on the lips. I returned the kiss and he returned it back. I kissed his cheek and nibbled on his ear. I felt his hand slipping across my belly and up past my waist to my chest. He caressed my chest softly and when he touched my nipples I jerked with the stimulation and they grew hard. I reached down and ran my fingers through his wet hairs and I cupped his balls and rolled them. The bed creaked as he snuggled down and slipping his lips about my nipple he sucked on it and licked it, causing it to burn and my cock to begin to swell.

Ever so slowly and carefully so as not to make any noise, I sat up and curled around so I was lying on my side but facing in the opposite direction. I slipped my lips over his flaccid cock and began to suck on it. It quickly began to swell between my lips. I could smell the musk of his nuts and my dick began to get hard. I felt his hot breath on my belly and then something hot and moist envelop my cock. He had it in his mouth. I began to slowly ease my lips up and down his cock, pushing his skin down over his bulb with my lips and then drawing it back up, continuing all the while to suck on his dink. A moment later he copied me, easing his lips down over my bulb and along the shaft and then slowly easing his lips back up. The suction increased on my bulb, and his hot breath panted against my nuts.

We were both the same size and so he went as far down on my cock as I was able to go down on his. As I felt my lust growing I figured his had to be doing so also. When I felt myself approaching the balancing point I stopped sucking on his cock and bobbing my head and instead I clamped my lips down below his bulb firmly and just lay there. Aaron continued to suck my dink and slide his lips up and down it for a bit, perhaps half a minute, and then copied me. I didn't know at the time if he knew why I'd stopped and I found out later that he hadn't but had just copied what I did, and it wasn't until I stopped the second time that he realized why I was doing it.

It was delightful sucking his cock and him sucking mine at the same time. His tongue swirled around my bulb, sending razor sharp shards of pleasure through my blood-engorged flesh, and i swirled my tongue around his, knowing I was giving him the same painful pleasure. I sucked on his dick, delighting in the taste of his raw wiener and I inhaled deeply through my nose, delighting in the musky fragrance of his sweaty balls. I felt dizzy with the pleasure of his hot, moist mouth sucking on my cock and my balls began to swell as his hot breath washed over them. My mouth was filled with pecker-flavoured saliva, the taste of his raw wiener making my own to ache and itch, and as I swallowed it gooseflesh formed on my arms and legs. He was sucking just as hungrily on my dick and had to be enjoying its flavour as much as I was enjoying his.

The third time I didn't stop and nor did he. My cock was throbbing and my swollen balls aching and when I felt my stuff cumming I drew my hips back but still kept my dick in his mouth. A second later I began to spurt my stuff in his mouth and a few seconds after that he drew his dick back so just the bulb was in my mouth and he began to spurt too. It felt fantastic spurting off a second time, my cock throbbing and the rim and tip of my dickhead burning and itching, and it was doubly fantastic knowing the pleasure I was feeling cumming in his mouth was the same pleasure he was feeling as he shot his stuff in mine. He spurted repeatedly, as did I, filling my mouth with his watery slime as I filled his. It felt like my mouth was being squirted full of slimy egg white. His cum, to my surprise, tasted sort of sweet. I thought of the vanilla ice cream we'd eaten earlier and I imagined his cum having a hint of pineapple flavour and banana. I swallowed it and I quivered as I felt the slime ooze down my throat. From the sounds he made, I figured he was swallowing my slime too. He'd stopped spurting and I continued to suck, sucking out the remainder of his cream, and he sucked out mine until I had no more to give.

I twisted around again so we were lying in the same direction and we kissed again and I tasted my cum and dick on his lips as he must have tasted his on mine. I slipped an arm about him and he slipped one about me and we drifted off to sleep. We woke up late the next morning, under the sheets but both still buck naked, and still in each other's arms. I don't remember crawling under the sheets. He smiled shyly and so did I and we kissed, a light peck. We didn't say anything as we got out of bed and dressed. Aaron looked at me sheepishly and I felt embarrassed now in the daylight and not feeling horny. We could smell pancakes and bacon and my mouth watered.

"You boys slept late this morning," Aaron's father observed.

"You slept solid. We didn't hear a peep out of you," said his mother, obviously pleased.

"Yeah, I was bone tired," I replied emphasizing the word 'bone', unable to help myself, and Aaron snorted his orange juice. I wondered how pleased his mother would feel if she knew what her son and I had done last night.

"We honestly thought you two would be up all night with all the sugar you had," observed Aaron's father.

Aaron's eyes crinkled as he glanced at me with a knowing smirk when his father said "up all night" and it was my turn to snort orange juice. If his father only knew!

"We need to do a bit of shopping this morning for tomorrow's supper. Gramma and Grampa O'Brian's flight comes in at two," Aaron's father said as we finished eating. "We can drop Jeremy off at his house now on our way shopping, or you two boys can stay home and spend some time together and we can take Jeremy home later when we return from the airport. We should be back a bit after three."

Aaron and I glanced at each other. "Later," we both chorused.

"There's peanut butter and jam if you get hungry before we get back," his mom said. "Just don't make a mess."

"Can we use the computer to look up some more space stuff?"

His father and mother glanced at each other. "I'll type in the password before we leave."

"So, you want to look up some more about space, or do you want to read some more slash fiction?" asked Aaron as we watched his parents pull out of the driveway.

"I'd rather do some slash reality," I said, turning and looking at him with a grin.

"Me too," he said as he smiled back. It was eleven. We had four hours. As we began to head to his room I had an idea. Taking his hand, I lead him to the kitchen.

"Drop your pants and underwear and sit on the table."

"What?" he chuckled.

"Forget the peanut butter and jam. What I want to eat is a wiener and a pair of nuts."

"You're crazy."

"Don't talk back food. Just do as you're told."

Aaron laughed and pushing down his jeans and his underwear, he lifted himself up on the table. I pulled up a chair in front of him and sitting down and leaning forward I slipped my lips over his dick. It immediately began swelling, and so did mine. I began slipping my lips up and down it as I kept up the suction.

"You wanna go to my bedroom and do each other?" Aaron asked between deep breaths.

"Unh-uh," I replied. "I want to just concentrate on your wiener and your nuts and the pleasure of doing you and bringing you off. Then we can switch places and I can concentrate on the pleasure of you bringing me off."

And so we did. I sat there at the kitchen table sucking Aaron's stiff cock, and after clamping down on his dick to stop him from cumming twice, I let him cum and I swallowed his juice, every drop. It was great just concentrating on bringing him the best pleasure a guy can bring another, on sucking his dick, and swallowing his cum. We switched places then and I concentrated on the throbbing pleasure between my legs and the pleasure of shooting off a load. It was awesome sitting there on the table looking down at him and watching him sitting there with his eyes closed and sucking my cock and seeing his eyelashes fluttering as I squirted out my cum and he swallowed it. As I pulled up my jeans and underwear, I noticed a picture on the fridge.

"That you?" He was wearing tight black leotards and a white tank top and was striking some sort of ninja warrior pose or something. He looked hot, sexy hot.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "That's from my dance class last week."

"Dance class?"

"Yeah. Remember when I said the trip to the Spark was a reward for doing well in my lessons?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it was my dance lessons. I was moved up to 'advanced' last week. I've been taking lessons for four years now."

"Cool."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Most guys make fun of me when they find out. They think dancing is for sissies. Just because I like dance don't mean I'm a sissy. They don't know how much strength it takes, especially in your arms and legs. My teacher says I'm ready to do leaps and lifts. That's going to be hard. You've probably noticed girls our age are usually bigger and heavier than guys."

"You're not going to have any problem. I noticed how firm your biceps were and how muscular your legs were in bed last night," I said with a grin and he smiled back.

"I'm really glad you accepted my invitation to go to the Spark."

"I'm glad you asked me. Why did you pick me?" I asked. "It wasn't because of the story I wrote in English was it?"

"Not totally," he admitted. He glanced at the floor and thought for a moment. "You've been asking around how you can tell if a guy is gay and stuff."

"Yeah."

"Well, some guys are saying you're gay," he said, staring at the floor and making a pattern with his foot. "That you're really hinting around looking for a guy to do stuff with."

"Which guys are saying that?"

"Several guys. Nobody's saying you're gay for sure. They're just guessing. You've been asking a lot. Other guys think you're asking because of Justin Bromley."

"Justin Bromley? What's he got to do with it?"

"He and you are in the chess club."

"So?"

"Well, you know the rumours about him and Cory Carson at the prom, that Cory was his date."

"I thought Melissa Blanchard was Cory's date."

"Some guys say that was all fake. That he was pretending to be hot for her but it was just a cover so nobody would know he was really hot for Justin. Others say she was actually Justin's date and he was using her so people wouldn't know he was actually making out with Cory. You know all the rumours about Cory in the boys' can and offering free blow jobs."

"Rumours. You actually get blown by him? Or know anyone who claims they have?"

"No. Just talk."

"So what's that got to do with me?"

"Some guys say Justin and you are close in the chess club and that he's hit on you, so some think you're asking because you're wondering if Justin is gay, and others think you're asking because you're gay and are afraid people will find out."

I shook my head in disbelief. I was totally and completely unaware of all the rumours. The reaction of everyone lately suddenly made sense. "And you? Why did you invite me to the Spark?"

"Because I was hoping that rumours that you are gay were right."

"Hoping I would hit on you so you could get your nuts off."

"No," he said sharply, a hint of anger in his voice and a hint of hurt in his face. "So I could finally find someone whom I can talk to. Someone who doesn't think I'm a pervert or a fem because guys turn me on. Someone who understands."

"There was nothing I did or said that made you actually think I was gay?"

"No. Just the opposite. You seemed like a normal, straight guy up to the end of June, but since then you've been awful persistent asking about being gay. Desperate even. I figured you either had a real hate on for gays because something had happened, or you were one, like me."

Like him? That he said that was a shocker. "When did you realize you were gay?"

Aaron shrugged. "I've always been different. I'm not interested in what other guys are. In fact a lot of things they're interested in turn me off. But I've always preferred the company of boys over girls, which was strange. I've always known I'm different, way back as far as I can remember. So, when, you know, when my body began to change and stuff, and still I found boys more interesting than girls, well, I just figured I was. Problem is, I've done stuff with dozens of guys in my mind, but you're the first boy I've ever actually done anything with." He looked over at me with a shy, almost frightened smile.

"Well, I'm glad you waited for me to be the first."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really," I replied. "Why do you keep asking me 'really'?"

"Because… this is better than I ever hoped it would be. I'm glad I waited for you too."

"Really?" I asked with a smile

"Yeah," Aaron replied with a grin. "So… if you don't mind me asking, why have you been asking how you can tell if a guy is gay?"

"I've been wondering… about myself," I confessed. "I've done a few things with another guy, jerked off and sucked with him. Just twice. Jerked twice, and sucked twice. He's the one who showed me how to delay a guy from coming by clamping down behind his bulb. But that was just, well, being curious, you know, experimenting, and it was two months ago. Then this summer I met an emo guy. We didn't do anything and he said he wasn't gay but I figured he acted like he was. Funny thing was, he figured I was the one who was gay."

"So. Are you still glad you accepted my invitation to the Spark?"

"Oh yeah. Really," I added with a smile

He didn't catch it. "What we did, last night. It'll be our secret?" he asked hopefully and clearly worried.

"Of course. Absolutely!" He smiled. "You ever been in a gay chat room?" I asked.

"A few times. I actually didn't like it much."

"I hated it. I went looking for answers but didn't find any."

"There's lots of gay information on the Internet. But a lot of it is crap. And a lot you don't know if it's true or not."

"You can say that about everything you look up on the Internet," I observed and he laughed.

"I wish Saint Joseph's had a gay-straight alliance group like the government says schools are supposed to. A safe place where guys can talk and be themselves."

"Yeah. But schools won't form one unless someone asks them to. You gonna ask?"

"No way," he said, the corner of his mouth curling with a slight grin and I grinned back.

I sat there with a million questions on my mind but I couldn't think of a single one. "So, I'm the first guy you've done anything with?"

"Yeah."

"You think gays do more than what we did? I mean besides kiss and hug and stuff?"

"Like what?"

"Well, do you think guys really do it to each other for example? You know, up the butt?"

He thought for a moment and then grinned and I knew what he was thinking. We went to their family room and woke up their computer from the sleep mode. For the next hour or so we searched the net. Aaron knew his way around the net, and the search engine and the virus protection his family used warned you if a site was dangerous and had a virus or malware or something and those we avoided. There were still plenty of safe sites on homosexuality, hundreds, probably thousands, some boring, some total crap and unbelievable, a lot lecturing and moralizing, for and against, and a few useful. One site was of still pictures of guys having sex up the butt. A few actually had videos which left nothing to your imagination. In one the guy pulled his dick out and sprayed his partner's butt.

"So, I guess guys really do, do it up the butt," I observed with a grin.

"Yeah. You seen enough?"

"Yeah."

Aaron showed me how to wipe the history clean so his parents couldn't track where we had been. He then opened up several sites on astronomy and Star Trek and stuff and left the history on. Smart. It was a little after one.

"Hungry?" Aaron asked as he shut off the computer and got up.

"Horny," I replied, reaching over and grabbing his butt.

We went straight to his room. "You, you know, wanna try it?" Aaron asked.

I didn't have to ask what he meant by it. "Sure."

"We don't got no enema stuff or anything like that, but we got lots of toilet paper."

"That's fine," I said with a shrug.

"You wanna do it together, or we got two bathrooms if you wanna do it alone."

"Alone. That part's rather gross."

"Yeah. You can use the main bathroom, and I'll use the half bath in my parent's bedroom."

"Okay."

"There's scissors in the medicine cabinet above the towel rack."

"Oh yeah. Thanks. I forgot about that part."

I went into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. That was dumb actually. There were only the two of us in the house, and Aaron was busy doing the same thing as I was doing in the other bathroom. I felt excited, and eager, and nervous, and worried. All at the same time. This was new. And serious. Real serious. I found the scissors and sat on the toilet and trimmed the nails on my index and middle fingers of my right hand real short, as short as possible, like they showed and said to do in the instruction video. I never thought of the possibility of scratching yourself, or your partner, up the rectum. I tried to take a crap but didn't have to. I wrapped some toilet paper around my pointer finger and squatting above the toilet I stuck my pointer finger up my ass, real slow. That really felt weird.

The toilet paper came unwrapped up my ass and when I pulled my finger out both the paper and my finger were smeared with shit. That was really gross and I was glad we were doing it separately. I washed my hands real good, especially my pointer finger, and did it again like they showed in the instruction video. It took a long time and I used up a lot of toilet paper. When I finally pulled up my underwear and jeans I hoped I'd been thorough enough. It would be embarrassing, and gross, if Aaron ended up with shit on his cock. I hoped I hadn't taken too long and kept Aaron waiting. To my relief he was coming down the hall from his parent's bedroom. He had an embarrassed, sheepish grin on his face and I suppose I did too.

We went in his bedroom and undressed. I was really feeling nervous, and extra excited, and worried. This wasn't spontaneous like last night. Last night had been awesome. I wanted this to be as good. I didn't want to disappoint Aaron, nor embarrass myself. The bed was made. We hadn't made it so it had to have been his mom. We both noticed the dark stain spots at the same time. Two small ones and a bigger one. The comforter was stiff where our cum had soaked in. I wondered if his mom had noticed, and I suppose Aaron wondered too. Thankfully she wasn't a guy so she probably wouldn't know what it was. Probably thought it was something we had eaten. Actually, it was. We pulled back the comforter and the blankets and sheets. Aaron had brought a box of Kleenex out of his parent's room, and a tube of KY lubricant he'd found in their bathroom. I looked at it in surprise.

"Your dad fucks your mom up the ass?" I asked.

"No, silly. He uses it when he fucks her, you know, her pussy, so he can insert it easier."

"Oh, of course." What did I know about fucking girls? I just assumed her pussy juice did that job. That's what the guys all say.

"So, who's gonna go first?" he asked. His voice cracked and he turned all red.

"It's your bedroom. You can do me first," I said.

I got on my elbows and knees on the bed and he got on his knees behind me. The bed was too springy and hard to keep our balance so we decided to do it on the floor instead. That was a lot steadier, and we didn't have to worry about staining the sheets with shit or more cum besides. Aaron squeezed a big gob of the lubricant on his middle finger and spread apart my ass cheeks with his other hand and I pushed out as he put the tip of his greased middle finger of his right hand against my anus like they said to do in the video. He slid it in real slow and it felt really weird as it entered me. He used lots of lube and his finger went in surprisingly easy. He twisted his finger around and worked it in and out my hole a few times. By the time he was done he was stiff and he wiped his finger off on his dick. I seen, much to my relief, that there was no shit on his finger. Taking the position we'd seen in the video, I told him when I felt the tip of his dick against my hole and he grabbed my hips and pushed forward, but he didn't have his dick wedged in my hole and it slid up my crack instead. We tried three times before we got the angle of his dick right and I felt his dickhead begin spreading open my anus.

It really hurt despite all the grease and him not being that thick, and I pushed out as hard as I could. I wondered if a girl's pussy hurt that much when a guy stuck his dick in it. This wasn't at all as much fun as sucking each other the night before had been. We really strained hard and as he continued to push, I felt his cock slowly penetrate a bit further. I wondered if maybe we were too young to do it. His dick wasn't that big, not like the ones we'd seen in the videos that day, but our holes were small, a lot smaller, and had never been used this way before. I wondered if maybe he should have finger-fucked me for a while longer. In one of the videos we'd seen the guy had done that a long time, and had used both his pointer and his middle fingers, at the same time. I was going to suggest it when I felt his dickhead suddenly pop inside and my anus snapped closed behind it, trapping it. Aaron was really puffing and he paused for a moment, which was fine with me because my hole really felt stretched, and then he pushed forward again. His dick slid up my rectum easy as a hot knife slicing butter. Soon his hairs were pressed against my butt and I felt his balls against mine! He was in! Totally!

He slowly pulled back, just a bit, and then slowly pushed in again. My anus burned in a ring and I could feel his hard, hot cock throbbing up my rectum when it was all the way in. It felt huge. He pulled it back out and pushed it back in, out, in. We were fucking! We really were! He was breathing hard, and so was I. My own cock was stiff and when he worked his cock in and out of my body it sent shocks of stimulation up my rectum and an ache up the core of my cock. He speeded up and was really gasping and panting. Realizing how good it was making him feel made me feel good too.

I remembered what one video said and I began working with him rather than being a passive partner whose ass was just a hole as the video had put it. As he sank his cock up my rectum I relaxed and pushed out, and as he drew his cock back out I tightened my asshole muscle about his shaft. Then as he shoved his cock back in I relaxed once more. It did make a big difference, I thought. He was really panting and grunting by then, and then he grasped my hips tighter and I felt his slime spurting up my rectum, spurting deep up my bowels. That was totally savage! Aaron rammed his cock in and out of my butt rapidly and in short strokes, rabbit-fucking me one of the sites we'd visited called it. Feeling him spurting his cum up my rectum, and hearing his cock sliding in and out in his slime with sort of a schlucking sound, I was on the verge of coming too. Before I did, he stopped and just knelt there gasping and snorting for breath. It seemed to be forever before he finally drew his cock all the way out of my body.

"How was it?" I asked as I twisted around and looked at him.

"Savage! Really savage!" he gasped between breaths. "You'll see."

As we changed positions I dared to glance at his cock. It was still stiff and was shiny with slime. If there was any shit I couldn't tell. So I did what he had done to me. I was very slow and careful sticking my middle finger up his ass and I used a lot of lube. Too much lube actually and I got it all over the rest of my hand. I wiped it off on my stiff cock. I was surprised to find myself stiff actually. I knew I'd gotten stiff being fucked, but in my concentration on lubricating Aaron's asshole I hadn't even thought of my own dick. It had been weird sticking my finger up his ass. I had been really surprised how hot and moist it felt inside him. Guys give each other the middle finger lots of times, for all sorts of reasons. It was the dirtiest gesture and the biggest insult one guy could give another. Whenever I'd see a guy doing it in the future, it's going to have a whole different meaning for me now.

Wiping my fingers off on some Kleenex, I knelt behind Aaron and grasping my dick by the base, I probed between his legs for his hole with the tip of my dick. It was a lot more difficult to find than I thought it would be and the videos had shown, and he and I changed our positions a half dozen times. I was getting frustrated and desperate and angry. Aaron suggested I just hold my dick at the base and let him back down on it like we'd seen in one of the videos. Smart. It worked like a charm.

He was able to find the tip of my stiff dickhead a lot easier and slide down on it. Ever so slowly I felt his anus opening wider and wider and descending along the slope of my dickhead, and then envelop it totally. He paused and after a moment I continued our connection, slowly pushing forward and now sinking my dick up his ass. It felt wonderful, more wonderful than having it pumped by a hand, more wonderful than having someone sucking on the end of it. My entire cock from tip to balls was surrounded by flesh, hot, wet, pulsating flesh. My hairs were pressed against his smooth butt, and my nuts were pressing against his.

As I slowly began pumping my cock in and out of his ass, I understood why guys think fucking ass is so great. I knew what it had been like to have a guy's cock buried up my ass, and now I knew what it was like to have my bone buried up a guy's hole. His rectum was hot and moist, like I imagined a pussy must be like. The beauty was that he knew exactly how it was feeling for me, having had his cock buried up a guy's rectum himself only minutes earlier. I grasped his hips and slowly began to fuck him, easing my cock in and out of his ass, delighting in the throbbing of his ass in time with the throbbing of my cock. He worked his rectum just as I had, grasping my cock as I withdrew it and relaxing as I sank it back up his body. I was soon ready to spurt and I was too hot and too desperate to delay the pleasure. I filled his asshole with my slime just as he had filled mine with his cum. I grasped him tightly as I came and we snorted and grunted like two pigs in rut. It was really fantastic. My cum came in rapid spurts and I imagined my slime squirting up his bowels just like a guy's cum squirts up a woman's pussy. From the look on his face when I was finally done and withdrew my cock, I didn't have to ask if he'd enjoyed it too.

We cleaned everything up and put everything back away and remade the bed before his parents returned with his grandparents. As his grandparents greeted him and hugged him, I wondered what they and his parents would think if they knew what he and I had done this weekend. I thought about that a lot as his dad drove me back home, and about everything that we had said and that we had done that weekend.

The next day, Monday, was Thanksgiving. We had turkey and stuffing with sweet yams and all the trimmings and pumpkin pie with ice cream for dessert. The house smelled wonderful.

"Before we begin this Thanksgiving repast," said Father, holding out his hands. Mom sitting on his left took his left hand, and me sitting on his right took his right. We extended our other hands and Jessica took Mom's and extended her left hand to Janine and Janine and I held hands. "With all the people unemployed today and the down turn of our economy, I am thankful that I have a secure job and am able to provide for my family financially, and can afford holidays like this summer."

"Every day you read in the newspapers and hear on the news of the violence and oppression and wars around the world today," said Mom. "I am thankful I live in this great country of Canada and this great city of Calgary where we can go about our lives in safety and security and where we provide refuge and sanctuary to the oppressed around the world."

"Two of my friends' parents got divorced over the summer," said Jessica. "I am thankful that I have awesome, loving parents and a great, loving family. Even my brother," she added with a twinkle in her eyes. The others chuckled and I wrinkled up my nose and made a face at her.

"Today the world is filled with hatred and intolerance, and groups protesting and demonstrating against each other. I am glad I am surrounded by so many understanding, compassionate and loving friends, and that I live in a country and a city that welcome people regardless of their colour, race, creed, religion and orientation," said Janine.

I studied my empty plate and then looked up at each of my family around the table waiting for me to speak so we could dig into our supper. "I don't have so much of a thankful for which I am grateful," I said. "It's more of an announcement." I looked into Janine's eyes out of the corner of mine.

"Oh my God," she gasped.

"I'm gay."

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