Ganymede

For Money or Love

Introduction

"Gay Times in the Caribbean.

"Eros, a luxury, 70-foot [21 m] motor-yacht departs weekly from St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands on a seven-day cruise of the wonderful islands of the Caribbean. We cater for unique life-styles with four cabins, each with private bath and queen-sized berths for couples seeking fun and excitement in tropical ports or the most romantic and secluded anchorages. Explore the depths of the coral reefs, dive on Spanish galleons and search for gold doubloons, wind-surf, or take one of our two inflatables to the beach for a romantic evening. Our four-star chef prepares superb meals. Local and French cuisine are specialities.

"Basic rate per person is $1,500 per week (air fare not included). Discounts are available for advanced purchases and off-season travel. A gay time is a way of life aboard Eros. Reply to xxx 345-2919."

Casey giggled and cuddled closer to me, entwining smooth slender legs with mine. A small, suntanned hand circled over my belly, inching slowly over my swim-shorts and towards my penis until fingertips brushed against my penis and squeezed my glans gently.

"Yeah! I like it."

"The advertisement or my dick?" I asked crudely.

Casey giggled. "Both!" A few seconds later. "Do you want to do it?"

I smiled. I needed to fax the advertisement to several gay newspapers in the U.S. But they had waited this long and they could wait another half hour or so.

"Yeah! I always want to do it." I laughed. "You got anything on under that sun-dress?" Casey's head shook slowly. "Nothing? Not even panties?"

Casey's head shook again. This time with playful eagerness and a smile of anticipation that threatened to become a lewd grin. I reached for the small, suntanned hand and pulled it towards me. Casey came with it, grinning cheekily and straddling my hips with accustomed ease, finding a natural position directly over my stiffening penis.

We were sheltered from prying eyes on the foredeck. During the last two weeks it had become our favorite place on Eros. There, we could enjoy the heat from the afternoon sun on our bare bodies as we suntanned, or engaged in other more active pursuits, because while the sun was hot, the temperature was still comfortable. The breeze kept the yacht swinging lazily at anchor. Beyond the port bow, the palms came right down to the beach. The glare from the white sand and the sparkling, azure-blue water was dazzling, but we were oblivious to it. My attention was riveted on Casey fumbling with the cord to my shorts.

"You want to go diving again afterwards?" Casey asked coyly.

I nodded, remembering what had happened in twenty feet [6 m] of water the day before. "I never would have thought that diving in the raw could be so much fun? It must be the company I keep."

"What do you think they'd say if they knew who paid for our boat?" Casey asked as the cord finally came untied. I felt my shorts being tugged downward by small, strong hands. No longer patient, Casey wanted me naked, immediately.

"Who's they?"

"Anyone I guess. Like the guys who read our ad?"

"I expect they'd be surprised to know how their tax dollars are being spent."

"But it was our money. Well… it was kind of ours," Casey giggled.

"It depends how you look at it. I doubt if anyone would believe us, anyway."

I grinned as my shorts came past my knees and my erect penis felt the life-giving warmth of the sun and Casey's small, sweat-moistened hand. I picked the hem of Casey's sundress up and lifted the brightly colored material, exposing lean brown legs and a diminutive sex organ. I liked the floral pattern of Casey's dress but I liked him naked even more. Now undressed, Casey smiled shyly and lay down over me.

Chapter 1
The Client

Against the white of the pillowcase and in the darkness before dawn, his tousled, chestnut-colored hair was almost black. One wisp, lighter than the rest brushed his forehead. It was a curling gold-hued lock that, in the light, would have glistened with a hint of red. Though summer had long since ended, his hair still evidenced long hours spent in the Californian sun and chlorine from the municipal swimming pool. His hair was long, far too long for a boy in the mid 1990's. His features were exquisite, a sublime mix of two races with skin of a color that would evoke a poet to call honey-colored. He was neither dark like an Asian nor pale like a European – he was a delicate blend of a Philippine mother and an American father.

His father existed only as a few pictures in a shoebox. They were dog-eared pictures that showed signs of endless handling as much by himself, his mother, or by his younger brother. One picture was of a U.S. Navy lieutenant, a carrier pilot, that was taken on the flight deck of the USS Enterprise at the base at Subic Bay. The others were taken at various locations along the west coast of Luzon in the Phillipines. The boy did not need to be told that the girl in most of the pictures was a Philippine hooker who was probably no older that he was. Even though the photos were twelve years old, he easily recognized his mother. Despite his questions, Juan never learned much more than the fact that soon after the eruption of Mount Pinatubo, his father had brought his mother and the two children to the U.S. on the promise of marriage. John James Hunter disappeared shortly afterwards. For the next three years they had been illegal immigrants and she had continued to ply her trade in order to survive. She had not stopped.

"Ohhh! God! Do it deeper! Ohhh, fuck! Faster!" The anguished scream of his mother's passion penetrated the wall and seared a cry of ecstasy into his mind.

The boy twisted onto his side and pulled half of the pillow over his head to drown out the noise that followed. He held the pillow tightly and pressed it hard against his ear. He knew what happened now. He knew the noises became even louder. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the shame he felt within him. A single thought struggled free inside him and built into a crescendo until it screamed louder than his mother's passion and he could no longer avoid its presence. In his imagination, the man's thick penis entered his body. He could feel it pushing, piercing, pumping, pounding inside him. It penetrated him like his mother was penetrated and it forced a vagina inside him where there was none. Unable to resist, it turned him onto his back. He lay breathing with fractured gasps until he heard his mother's grunt of orgasm. But the noise went on and on, still striving for relief and instinctively he pressed his slender, smooth legs wide apart. Now splayed out on the bed like a frog ready for dissection, his hips contorted and lifted upwards to meet imaginary downward thrusts. The movements of his thighs were slight at first, in synchronized jerks with the knocking against the wall, but the tempo increased until he was thrusting upward in unison. His body and mind yielded to it, wanting it deeper and faster. Not male, not female, he struggled in a lonely confusion as the red-hot shaft merged into him, never realizing that his own small appendage was every bit as hot and hard as the one in the room next door, as hard as the one that existed in his mind.

More grunts from the room next door, then the final desperate slamming of the bed against the wall with the dying throes of ejaculation. He felt the man's seed squirting out as it sprayed his virgin womb with a torrent of sperm. Not even twelve years old and he knew what happened. He knew from the silence that the man had slumped down over his mother's inert body, the rigid penis now softening as the excess semen dribbled out of her and onto the sheet. His dream, if that was what it was, began to fade. His body relaxed as he suddenly realized that he was tensed. It was as if an overwhelming pressure existed within him. In the final moments his back had arched and his legs had strained with the force of slender muscles pulled taut until he was lifted off the mattress. His firm buttocks had squeezed tight as if to resist, or to open his vagina wider. But there was no vagina between his legs just as there was no semen inside him.

Again Juan turned onto his side. Now he rubbed at his genitals, pretending that his hand became wet as his fingers dragged through the folds of his labia. But he felt the silken skin between his legs, the wrinkles of his retracted scrotum, and the residual hardness of his penis. The accelerated growth of his scrotum and its precious cargo passed unnoticed. He was beginning to ripen but his testicular growth had been slow and was easily denied or overlooked. Six months ago, in the heat of summer, his scrotal sac fell short of the length of his penis when he stood before a mirror. Now, with winter approaching, his testicles were bigger and heavier and dropped below the puckered tip of his foreskin, but there was nothing else to indicate that puberty was approaching with stubborn persistence.

Juan sighed tiredly. His eyes closed again. This time he brought forth memories of his mother. He remembered easily because the memory he sought was an incident that had occurred less than a week earlier. It was a vivid memory. She was lying on her back and a stranger, a client, was half kneeling, half lying over her. There was more than enough light from the lamp beside the bed to see the man's penis. The man's reddened tumescent shaft was clearly illuminated. It was enormous compared to his own. He watched in a silent jealous rage as the man ejaculated over his mother. The massive shaft was engorged with blood and it glistened with the slick juices from inside her as spurts of semen rained down over her dark flesh. It was only one time of many times that he had watched from the doorway. He cupped his hand over his genitals and pulled his small penis and testicles upward to stretch the scrotal skin taut. Though a little painful, there was now a soft furrow between his thigh and groin, and he pressed his fingers against his urethra to make a fold of flesh that stretched down between his legs. For a few all-too-brief seconds he pretended that it was his clitoris. Unlike most mornings, this time it gave him no pleasure. He released his captive sex organs and opened his eyes.

Even in the dim light through the curtains he could see that his younger brother was still asleep. His lips tightened and he breathed out with a sigh of relief. He pushed the comforter way and sat up. He was almost naked. Juan wore underpants but they had been pushed off hurriedly during the night and now they were only on one leg, just below the knee. The white of the cloth contrasted sharply with his amber skin. He leaned forward and pushed the warm cloth the rest of the way down to his foot. He put the other foot through the empty hole and pulled them upward again as he came to his feet. The underpants had a high waist that reached past his navel and were at least one size too small for him. They were tight on his buttocks and served to accentuate the cleft between his round cheeks. It emphasized the roundness of his small genital bulge, his boyhood clearly evident. For a moment he contemplated tossing his pillow at his ten-year-old brother but the temptation was overcome by an even more pressing need to urinate. He left the room.

The door to his mother's room was still closed. He went into the bathroom, tugging his underpants down even before the door was closed behind him. Like a girl, Juan sat down on the toilet. He directed his stubby penis downward between his legs with two fingers, not bothering to retract his foreskin. Within seconds, the hot stream splattered into the water beneath him. Once started, he did what he did every morning – in fact just about every time he urinated. He pressed his knees together and slipped his hand away from his groin. He looked downward and smiled shyly. Now he looked like a girl, or rather, there was no visible manifestation of his gender. He was sexless and it was more than enough to satisfy him. His bladder emptied quickly and the pressured stream changed to a trickle. He stood up, pulled his underpants back up. A small dark spot formed in the cloth before the pointed tip of his tiny uncircumcised penis but it went unnoticed.

Juan was just about to leave the bathroom when the door opened. The first thing he realized was that he had not seen this man before. The next thing he realized was that the man was naked. From the color of his skin and dark hair, the man appeared to be Mexican or Cuban. It came as no surprise to Juan for increasingly, his mother's clients were foreigners. The man stood before him with a knowing smirk. Without the pretense of modesty, he grasped his genitals meaningfully.

"I gotta piss, kid. Get the fuck outta here!" the man said crudely.

The boy was transfixed, his eyes riveted on the man's penis. It was the first time Juan had seen a man's penis so close before. He stared at it in awe, blocking the way to the toilet. The penis was flaccid but the purplish veins were still distended. He could see that a glistening wetness coated it. Juan swallowed. The man's other hand reached out, cuffing the boy on the shoulder. He stumbled as he was shoved to one side.

"I said, get the fuck outta here you little queer. I ain't pissin' with no audience." Louder this time.

The boy looked up, startled. Juan tried to back away but he came to the half-open door and stopped against it. He was mesmerized more by the sheer size of the man's penis than by the flood of yellow urine that abruptly burst forth and drummed loudly into the toilet. The thought that gripped him and prevented him from moving was that this penis had been inside his mother. Again he was envious. But it wasn't the penis he coveted. He was envious of his mother. Without knowing why, the boy yearned for it to be inside him. Juan wanted it, not with the same grudging desire he saw in his mother as she serviced her clients, but with a greedy longing that emerged from somewhere deep within him. He stared, enthralled, preoccupied with the images that easy sprung up from the imagination of a boy.

The man looked back at the boy. "I always gotta piss bad after I fuck. Your mother's a great fuck. You know I just got through fucking her, don't you kid?"

The boy looked at him in dumb fascination. So absorbed was he by sight of the man's penis and his own fantasy that he didn't realize the man had stopped and was now standing before him shaking away the last droplets. As one splattered against his bare leg his spell vanished and he looked up.

"What are you looking at, queer? You want my cock? Is that want you want kid? I ain't no queer but I bet you'd make a good fuck. I bet you fuck just like your momma."

The boy swallowed. His eyes were still cast downward, still focused on the man's genitals, still engrossed.

"You want to suck me off, kid? You want me to fuck your face, don't you?"

Juan shook his head and tried to back away. His movement was stopped by the bathroom door behind him. The man reached up over the boy's head and pushed the door roughly. For an instant it was restrained by the flesh of the boy's buttocks and then it closed with a loud slam. Finally, Juan looked up. He shifted his feet nervously, thought for a few seconds, and slowly shook his head in denial. The man laughed as he reached forward. Both hands settled on the boy's shoulders possessively. Juan shook his head again, this time vehemently.

"I don't want to do that, man," Juan whined

That he was ashamed was clearly revealed in the bright crimson flush in his face. But the excitement that Juan thought was well hidden was also revealed. He trembled visibly and swallowed. Just the thought of it, of having the man's penis in his mouth was enough to make his throat dry. Only it wasn't dry, he realized. He wasn't afraid. The strange feeling in his mouth came from the undeniable knowledge that he wanted it there, that he could already taste it. Again his mind sprang free, recollecting another time, another night, and another man. How many times had he witnessed his mother doing the same thing that this man was now offering to him. And she had, she had taken the penis offered to her. She had taken it into her mouth and sucked. Juan had watched from the shadows. He had watched and wanted, just like he wanted now.

"Of course you do. It's written all over you. Vistoso! Maricon," the man taunted.

"Huh? What is?" Juan asked. "I don't understand Spanish," he added nervously.

"You want to suck me, queer boy? I bet you suck cocks really good too, just like your momma. You sure got the mouth for it."

"What do you mean, it's written all over me?" Juan asked again.

"Look at you, boy. Your dick is standin' out hard. You can't take your eyes off me. If you not queer, I sure don't know what straight is."

"I-I-I'm not," Juan stammered uncertainly.

But he glanced downward and saw the white cloth of his underpants stretched outward into a little pointed tent over his groin. Again he tried to shake his head, to pull away and leave the room, but the man's hands held his shoulders firmly and slowly pushed downward. Not with a lot of force, but enough to let the boy know what was expected of him. Juan knew who was in control. There was little that he could do to resist. He tried to shake his head one more time in futile resistance. His opposition was ineffectual. Juan submitted. His knees buckled and his legs seemed to collapse under him so that he sank to the vinyl floor. When he stopped he was kneeling before the naked man. The big, hungry penis swayed just inches before his eyes.

"No," he countered. It was little more than a whisper from his lips as he succumbed and slowly leaned forward to bring his mouth even closer.

But even as he had tried to resist he had wanted not to. As he stared at the living pendulum before him he could think only of his mother. In vain he tried to block out the sight of it. He closed his eyes but still his only thoughts were of her. Through closed eyelids he could see her clearly, kneeling in the same position, reaching up, caressing it, fondling the lengthening shaft with slender fingers, soothing the hardening flesh with warm soft lips, tantalizing the very tip of it with the pliant, wetness of her tongue. The hot softness of the man's now swollen glans pushed between Juan's lips even before he tasted the saltiness of it.

The man's hands moved from the boy's shoulders to cradle his head, restraining it as the inward pressure increased. The boy gagged after an inch [2½ cm] had gone inside. As soon as the bitter taste of urine, semen, and his mother's vaginal fluids filled his mouth he wanted to pull away. Bile rose upward in his throat as the man forced another inch [2½ cm] into the small mouth. Juan's tongue was depressed and his jaw ached as he forced his mouth wide open. The one thing he knew that he could not do was to bite. Juan gagged again, now fighting the urge to vomit as the intruder bulged into his mouth and swelled his cheeks. He reached upward and as he remembered his mother doing and cupped the man's testicles. He held the huge, hair-covered sack in the palm of his right hand, intrigued by the sheer weight of its contents. Then with the fingers of the other, Juan stroked the long wiry strands of pubic hair that covered the man's groin, just as she had done.

The man pushed forward and gripped the boy's head. He pushed his fingers into the delicate ears and twisted them into the soft locks of Juan's hair to restrain his movement. Another inch [2½ cm] of thick, engorged penis pushed between the boy's perfectly shaped lips.

"That's good, kid. Real good! Now suck it!" The man pulled back, paused momentarily, then pushed forward again. "Suck it! Go on! Suck it right inside, you little queer!"

Juan sucked. He sucked with all his might. He opened his mouth as far as it could go and then he sucked as if his life depended upon it. It seemed to slide into him until it could go no further. The onslaught of the man's penis was stopped in the back of his mouth as it rammed hard into his throat. To Juan, it felt as if the entire length of the adult penis was inside him. He dared not even try to breath.

It was not the memory of his shame or the shock upon being discovered but the sound of laughter that stayed with him from his first time. Not the man's laughter but his mother's laughter. The door swung open without warning. She stood there and glared down at him as she took it all in. And then she started to laugh. The man pushed Juan back viciously so that his penis was yanked free from the confinement of the boy's mouth. There was a resonant, sucking pop. He turned sideways and smirked at Juan's mother.

"He was just cleanin' me off. Your kid sucks cocks better than you do," he teased.

The woman's laughter seemed raucous in the bathroom. Juan cowered. He breathed in quick short gasps, suddenly aware that he needed air now that the huge penis no longer plugged his airway.

"Well, you didn't pay for my boy to suck you off, Leon. Besides, he only had about a third of you in there, didn't he? I'd hardly call that sucking your cock."

For the first time, Juan saw the man's aroused penis. Fully erect, it was easily nine inches [28 cm] long, easily three times the length of his own penis. It was many times larger. The shaft was swollen thicker than his wrist. The glans was rounded and as big and purple as a ripe plum. It was almost absurd to believe that it had gone inside his mouth. Even a third of its length was a remarkable achievement for a twelve-year-old boy. As he cringed and waited for his mother's wrath, he felt a strange satisfaction.

"Get your ass out of here, Juan." She continued to laugh.

The young boy shuddered even as he wondered why she was laughing. "Mom? Mom please? Please don't be angry with me. I didn't mean to. Mom?"

"Just get out of here. Get out, child! This is no place for a boy."

The man laughed harshly. "He did okay for a kid. He sure wanted to suck my cock. I think you better have a talk with him. A boy like him could get into a world of hurt with the wrong dick."

"Well he's not suckin' on this one. This here is woman's work," she laughed. "You can go find your own cock to suck, if that's what you want Juan. Only next time find something that's more your size."

She stepped closer to the man. Juan came to his feet precariously. He saw his mother's hand clasp the man's penis possessively. He saw her bright-red finger nails squeeze into the ruddy flesh, still moistened from his saliva. He looked away indignantly, irritated by his own helplessness. For the first time in his almost twelve-year-old life Juan recognized his mother as a rival. This time there was no dispute about who was the victor.

"See! I told you he wanted to suck my cock," the man observed crudely. He pointed at the dark, wet spot on the front of the boy's underpants. "He pissed himself just suckin' on it. Your kid's a born cocksucker!"

"Maybe, Leon, but he sure ain't suckin' on yours. If he wants to, well he can find his own. I told you to get out, didn't I," she added as she glanced at her nearly naked son. "Get your ass out of here, now!"

Juan turned and ran back to his room. Nearly two days passed before the incident in the bathroom was mentioned again and then it was not with his mother.

Chapter 2
Home Alone

"I want to go down to Brian's place, Juan," Jamie stated as he hesitated in the corridor.

"You're supposed to do your homework," Juan countered as he opened the lock. He turned back to his brother.

"I can do my homework there. His mom said it was okay for me to stay for dinner. Besides Juan, there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Did you ask mom this morning?"

The younger boy, some two years younger than Juan shook his head. The two boys were a lot alike. Unknown to either boy was the fact that Jamie, with his slower temper and greater wit was more like his father. Both boys had names whose origins were to be found in the man who sired them. Other than a slight physical resemblance, it was their only link with a man who had died almost ten years earlier. Juan Cassidy, age 28, had died in aborted takeoff from the U.S.S. Enterprise barely a month before Jamie had been born.

"Mom was still in bed. She was with that same guy, you know, the fat Mexican creep who was here last week. I sure wasn't going to ask her," Jamie added defiantly. "They were fucking, man! You could hear them doing it, Juan."

Juan shrugged but inside he felt his frustration blossom. He was also angry. He had heard the same noises during the night. It started again before sunrise. Even though the two boys had grown up with it, the f-word from the mouth of what appeared on the surface to be an innocent ten-year-old was particularly obscene.

"Yeah, he was the same guy. He's usually with Mom on Fridays," he acknowledged. "I heard it too. I guess it's okay. But you gotta be back here by ten, Jamie."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jamie chimed. He grinned and shoved his backpack towards his brother.

"What about your homework?"

"I don't have any," Jamie answered swiftly. The lie went undetected for several seconds and then it no longer mattered. The younger boy had already turned and run down the corridor towards the stairs.

Juan started his homework as soon as he had changed his clothes and prepared his snack. He settled down in the living room where the late afternoon sun still penetrated the otherwise gloomy confines of the apartment. He spread his math book on the floor beside him, slurped his milk and began. Math was his least favorite subject, it took the longest, and he wanted it out of the way. Nearly two hours passed before Juan put the math book away. He stretched his legs. The sun had long since left the room and now he was sitting in near darkness. The track suit he wore had come from the Goodwill store. At one time it had been expensive and it still bore the signs of quality. The plush cloth was velvety and warm and had a fuzzy softness that felt nice against his bare skin.

He stretched back and lifted his arms behind his head so that the top was pulled upward. He yawned in boredom. The firm flesh and lithe form of his lower belly was revealed and as soon as he felt the cool air he glanced downward. He was slender and his waist narrowed more than most boys. Freed from the mental struggle with his math homework, his thoughts shifted. He wondered how much different his body looked compared to that of a girl of his own age. There was the obvious difference, of course, but if he overlooked that he decided that he came close. Some of the girls in his sixth-grade class already had breasts, or what purported to be breasts but were still the ripening mounds that heralded things to come. But breasts did not interest him in the same way and he grinned to himself and lifted his hips up from the floor. The elastic in the waistband offered no resistance and he quickly shoved his sweat pants downward to his feet. As usual, he wore no underpants. He pushed his penis and testicles between his thighs and clamped his legs tightly together. He continued to look downward but now he smiled in satisfaction. The hairlessness of his groin was accentuated by the absence of his genitals. The smooth skin was stretched over what remained from the puppy fat of his pre-teen years: a v-shaped mound of soft flesh that would eventually disappear and become his pubis. There was a small dip at the junction of his invisible penis and a thin, dark line at the point of attachment. As his penis started to become erect the dip increased in size, becoming ever more prominent and in the darkness, more like a vagina but not enough to really please him.

The doorbell had broken six months earlier and had never been fixed by the landlord. But then the landlord was a faceless corporation whose only goal was to accept the rent checks and send out warnings when they were received late. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of someone knocking on the door. For a moment he thought it was his brother but the knocking was insistent and stronger. Hurriedly, Juan sprang to his feet. He tugged his pants upward as he ran into the hall. It took only a single glance through the peephole to determine the visitor. Without hesitation, he opened the door.

"Hi Bruce," he said. The note of eagerness in his voice was not missed by the man that stood before him.

"Hi yourself, mate," the young man returned. "Is your mom home, Juan?"

The boy shook his head. "She's at work. She won't be home until late." He studied the man with obvious affection. Over the last three years he had come to like his mother's pimp. "You can phone her from here, if you have to. I don't think my mom wants to work tonight anyway," Juan added. "She was kind of sick last night after dinner. I guess she has a cold or something like that. She usually comes back here alone if she doesn't feel good."

The inflection in his voice revealed his growing disgust. His mother was a whore and they both knew it. Bruce only visited the apartment when he was bringing a client to her or collecting his commission.

"I don't have to call her, mate. That's not why I'm here." They glared at each other. "Don't be angry with her. It's a job, Juan. It's better that welfare."

"Yeah. That's what she says too. She only does it for the money. But it still doesn't change what she does with them. And she doesn't even need the money, at least she wouldn't if she didn't spend it on crack."

Bruce nodded understandingly. "Are you going to invite me in or am I going to have to stand out here in the hall." Juan grinned and backed away, leading the way into the darkened apartment. "Where's Jamie?" Bruce asked quietly.

"He's with a friend from school, a kid called Brian. He lives downstairs. Jamie's staying there for dinner," Juan volunteered.

Bruce nodded. "Home Alone, huh?"

Juan smiled. "Yeah, only I'm not rich like that Culkin kid."

The man returned the smile. "You're much better looking than he is."

"Yeah, sure I am. What do you want my mom for, mate?" Juan asked playfully. He mimicked the man with a feigned accent that left a lot to be desired.

Bruce smiled at the boy. "I don't want her, mate." He paused as he closed the door behind him. He locked it. "She asked me to stop by today and have a talk with you."

"Huh? Talk with me about what?" Juan asked quickly.

"Oh, this and that." Another pause as he looked steadily at the boy. Juan was not tall for his age. The top of his head was still several inches lower than the man's shoulder. He looked young, barely old enough to understand. "Mostly about sex," he added quietly.

Juan smiled at the man he almost adored. He loved the accent. Bruce was Australian, or had been until a few years ago when he finally decided to live in the 'States,' as he called it.

The boy shrugged. "I know some of that stuff already. From school," he added.

Bruce leaned against the wall. "Sure you do, mate. With you mom being, well being what she is, you probably know more already than most guys your age." He hesitated. "She told me about yesterday morning."

Juan reddened. He stared at the floor as the last two days of shame and guilt boiled to the surface. He had not expected this. He had always thought of Bruce as his best grown-up friend. And now even Bruce knew what he had done. He silently hated his mother even more than when she had laughed at him.

Bruce led the way back along the hall and into the living room. "Let's talk about it, okay mate? So you sucked a guy's dick? Her john, right? I bet she was pissed."

He dropped down onto the sofa. The boy remained standing, his silhouette framed in the doorway. Juan did not answer.

Bruce spoke quietly, without condemnation, with reassurance, with open acceptance. "You have to be careful doing that. Sex is dangerous for a youngster, especially for a boy who's as good looking as you are."

"You really think I'm cute?" Juan asked awkwardly.

"Very! Come over here and sit down. That's better, mate. Now, sit down. Be honest with me Juan, do you really think you're gay?"

Juan pondered the one question that frightened him more than anything else in his life. It was a question that he had considered time and time again. It was a question he had never answered.

"I like being around girls," the boy admitted quietly. He wondered whether he had lied and slowly decided that he had not. He did like being with the girls in his class. It was as if he had more in common with them than he had with other boys his age. He had known that for a long time, for as long as he could remember.

"Yeah, sure you do," Bruce said dubiously. "There's nothing wrong with being gay," he added.

He reached around the boy's head. His arm rested gently against the slender shoulders and he stroked a thin upper arm. He leaned toward Juan. "Being gay is okay, Juan," he whispered into the boy's ear. "There's nothing to be scared of," he added as Juan shivered and tensed as if he was about to pull away.

The boy nodded and pushed his tousled hair back from his forehead. It was an instinctive move but as his fingers combed the long locks it quickly became a feminine gesture. "You think I'm gay, don't you Bruce?" he asked nervously.

"I know you are. I think I've known from the first time I saw you."

"Shit!"

Bruce smiled reassuringly. "I know how you feel. I know I was really pissed. I expect I felt the same way that you do right now. I guess I was about your age the first time I did it, mate. I'd been in the States all of three weeks."

"So, how do I feel?" Juan asked arrogantly.

Bruce answered sincerely. "Ashamed for one thing. You'll get over it. I remember I felt cheated. I didn't want to be gay."

"Why me?" Juan asked plaintively.

"Hell! I don't know. It just happens. Maybe we were always this way."

"My mom knows, doesn't she?" Juan sighed dolorously. "That's why she asked you to talk with me." The man nodded patiently. "So, what happens to me now?"

"That's up to you Juan."

The boy's lips compressed tightly. He sniffed wretchedly and slowly swiped at his eyes. His distress heartbreaking to the man. "You can, if you want to," he whispered.

"If I want to what?"

"You can do it to me if you want to. I don't care," Juan said crudely.

Bruce laughed. "You can forget something like that. But if I was into boys it would be a different story. You're incredibly sexy, even for a kid."

"Yeah?" Juan asked. He clung to the man's words, desperate to find security and stability in his turmoil. Finally, he vacillated. "What do you mean?" he added curiously.

"Not all men like young boys that's all. In fact, most gays don't go after kids. They like older guys. Besides, you're a lot better off with someone your own age," he added sincerely.

"Oh!" Juan paused. "So, why not? Why can't a boy do it with an older guy like you?"

"Well I guess there are a lot of reasons why not. It's against the law for one thing, mate. Until you turn eighteen you're jail bait. But besides that, well you're still a kid and there are a few things you can't do until you're older."

Juan giggled. "Like make that white stuff come out of my dick?"

Bruce nodded as he chuckled. "That's one of the things," he acknowledged.

"Some of the guys at school say they can do it, you know, make stuff come out when they jack off." Juan leaned back against the man's muscular torso and nestled under his arm. "Is that what I have to do to before I, well you know, do it?"

"No, it's not essential," Bruce acknowledged with a grin. "But it helps if you've got some spunk."

It was almost dark in the room now and Juan snuggled closer into the man's warmth. He could smell the strong scent of after-shave and he liked it. There was also a musky odor, not as strong, but far more enjoyable. Then he remembered that the man in the bathroom had a similar smell only he hadn't noticed it at the time as being pleasant. He liked Bruce.

"Bruce?" he asked quietly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, mate. What is it?"

"Will you do it with me?" Juan asked nervously. His voice became quieter, almost conspiratorial as he added, "You know, when I'm older?" Bruce nodded and gently squeezed the boy's thin arm. It served to draw them even closer together.

"There's plenty of time left for you to have sex, mate. First thing is for you to grow up a bit."

"Yeah, but, well… Why not now? Why do I have to wait until I'm older?" Juan interrupted.

"There's no rush, mate. You'll only get hurt if you rush into it at your age. Any way you look at it, you're still just a kid. Give it a couple of years. Don't be an idiot and end up like your mom or me. Believe me it's no fun. Have some fun first with your own friends."

Juan twisted away and glared back at Bruce, suddenly distrustful of the man he liked so much. "You said what she did wasn't so bad," he countered angrily. Then the ugly thought struck him. "You do it too, don't you?" he demanded.

"What?"

"You do it for money, just like she does, don't you? WELL? DON'T YOU?" he shouted.

Bruce nodded diffidently. He was a long way past caring. During his teenage years he had carried more guilt than most people knew in a lifetime. Twice he had attempted suicide and twice he had failed. He had tried booze, then pot, then cocaine. Nothing worked for him, except sex. No longer caring to hold anything back, he answered honestly.

"Sometimes. I'm getting too old for the trade if you know what I mean. When I was younger, most of the times I did it was for money. That's how I met your mom. We were both working downtown. I guess you were about seven or eight at the time."

Juan settled back down next to the man as the next question came to him. "So, if some guys even younger than me can make sperm, why can't I?"

"Some guys just start sooner, that's all. Just be patient, you're probably closer to it than you realize."

"Huh? How can you tell when I'll be able to cum," Juan asked innocently.

Bruce smirked. "The best way if for you to pull your pants down and show me, mate."

Juan giggled childishly. "Here? In front of you?"

Bruce did not reply. He looked at the boy reclining beside him, not believing what he had just said. He shrugged nonchalantly as if seeing Juan's naked body was of no interest to him. He had always believed that a naked boy would hold no interest for him, even a boy who was as beautiful as this one. But he was interested, very interested indeed. His throat was suddenly dry and he swallowed. He felt a thrill of excitement and he could not help but smile at the boy. He had never this way before when he looked at a young boy. Juan seemed like a forbidden fruit, a delicacy that could easily become addictive.

"Yeah. Why not, mate?" the man answered eagerly.

"You got to promise you won't tell anyone, especially my Mom,?" Juan said with a sly smirk.

Both man and boy silently regarded the other. The clock ticked loudly, the hands moving interminably onwards as it pursued an unknown destiny. Juan did not wait for Bruce's answer. He stood up and stepped back from the couch. With clumsily attempted seduction and a slowness that revealed his lack of expertise, his hands moved to his waist. Like a stripper he wriggled his hips sensuously as he pushed downward. His sweat pants were almost to his knees before he stopped. He straightened up, unsure of how far he should go. Bruce regarded him in silent fascination. In the dim light from the street lamp outside the window, the boy's body was little more than an outline in the darkness. He reached over and switched on the lamp next to the couch.

"So?" Juan inquired. There was a note of urgency in his voice. It was a demand for acceptance, hopeful even for appreciation. Bruce said nothing. "I don't have hair down there yet," Juan added, still desiring admiration.

"So I see." Bruce took a deep breath as if to quell his rising disquietude and gazed at the half-naked youthful body before him.

The sight of the boy's bare thighs made his heart surge. Juan's loose-fitting top sagged down beyond his navel, covering his lower belly. His genitals seemed to peek out from underneath. He looked in awe at the proudly displayed body, his eyes focusing on the boy's diminutive sex organs with an intensity that disturbed him. The child, for that was what Juan was, was absolutely perfect. Unblemished by even the slightest trace of hair, his penis projected outward as if cushioned by his rounded scrotum. Unlike himself, the boy was uncircumcised. It gave the youth a mystery that had always seemed to elude him.

"Like I said, you're sexy," Bruce breathed out. He hesitated as he examined the boy carefully. "I bet you're going to be cummin' sometime next summer, mate. Your balls have already started getting bigger."

"What about my balls?" Juan asked uncertainly.

"A kid's balls have to get bigger before he can cum. It looks like your's have just started. I reckon your cock will start getting bigger soon too. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, you'll probably start sprouting hair in a few months or so."

It was Juan's turn to grin and he beamed back happily. Bruce extended his hand and their fingers touched, then clasped, and finally locked together. They watched each other silently, each afraid that any sound might break the fragile bond between them.

"Take your pants all the way off," Bruce demanded. His voice was husky though gentle and it reassured the boy that his nudity would not go unappreciated. Still holding Bruce's hand, Juan shoved his pants down to the floor, lifted one foot and then the other until they were off, and kicked them off.

"Do you want me to take everything off?" the boy asked shamelessly.

"I don't want you to get cold, mate. You'd better leave your top on."

Gently he pulled on the boy's warm hand, feeling a clammy moistness between the thin fingers. Juan took a single step until his legs brushed against the man's jeans.

"You're beautiful," Bruce said. His voice trembled like a teenager on his first date. "God, you're beautiful."

With his other hand he reached forward and lightly caressed the smooth, bare thigh that was nearest to him. His hand flowed along the lithe form. He felt the quiver of young muscles as they tensed and then relaxed slowly. He felt the swelling as the boy's small buttocks began, then the full roundness of the firm flesh of his cheek. His fingers traced a line parallel the boy's crevice, barely an inch [2½ cm] from entering a darker, hotter zone. Resisting the temptation to go further, Bruce looked upward and met Juan's eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked quietly. "If you don't want to do it, I want you to tell me, mate."

Juan's head moved slightly, nodding his acquiescence. Like any boy on the precipice of discovering his sexuality, he lacked confidence. Unsure even of his own desires, but primarily afraid of what lay before him, he equivocated.

"Can we stop if I want to?" he asked.

"Whenever you want to stop, just say so."

The boy considered his options momentarily. "Are you going to do it to me?" he whispered urgently. It was unknown, a vague undefined territory that somehow encompassed his body and focused on his genitals. It was what his mother did with her clients. At the most fundamental level, it involved sucking Bruce's penis, a thought that was not unattractive to the boy.

Bruce shook his head slowly. "Not now. You're not ready for that yet."

He exerted just enough downward pressure to bring the boy gently onto him. Juan sat in man's lap. Oblivious to the coarse cloth beneath his buttocks, he was aware only of the warmth that seemed to flow between them, from the man's groin into his thighs and buttocks. More content than he had ever been, he reclined into a strong embrace and sighed quietly as the arms enclosed him and held him tightly.

"Are you scared?" Bruce asked quietly.

Juan sighed again. "No. You make me feel good all over. I like being here with you." Bruce playfully squeezed the young boy. It was a strong tender hug of affection. "You feel like a big bear," Juan said dreamily. "I like you holding me."

The man smiled to himself. Unseen by the boy, he leaned forward and nuzzled the silky head that barely came up to his chin. Like Juan, his feelings were foreign to him. They were very confusing. Was it simply a matter of the boy's age? If that was the only difference then it did not seem to be enough to account for what he felt. No, it definitely was not the same, Bruce decided. There was more to it than mere maturity or the lack thereof. With a man there was a sense of equality, even if he usually was the passive partner. With Juan came the roles of coach, teacher, and mentor. It was not a task that he immediately relished though the opportunity to enlighten the youngster offered interesting possibilities. His thoughts were interrupted as Juan stirred against him with a playful wriggle.

"What happens now?"

"What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know. I'm the kid and you're the grown-up, remember. You're supposed to teach me."

"No shit!"

"So teach me!"

They both laughed. It interrupted the stress of the moment. Laughter turned to tickles as Bruce slid his hand under Juan's top and jabbed his fingers into the boy's ribs.

"Yyyoouuch," Juan screeched. His voice, still unbroken, hit a soprano high. "No! Don't you dare! I hate being tickled. Stop it! Bruce, don't! Please!"

Bruce jabbed again and then transferred his squabbling, grasping fingers to the boy's lower belly. He stopped barely an inch [2½ cm] from Juan's penis. Frantically Juan tried to protect his exposed groin. He realized too late that it was a trap and Bruce's fingers poked and prodded into his armpits. The boy writhed above the man, squealing and yelling and enjoying every wonderful second of it. He fought back but with decreasing resistance as his strength ebbed with his raucous laughter and lack of breath.

"Stop it! Oh God. Not my dick again! No! Shit! Don't Bruce! Please."

"Say you'll do whatever I want!" Bruce commanded in mock sternness. "Say it! Now!"

"Fuck you," Juan swore as he giggled hysterically.

He tried to grab at the man's groin but his attack was easily fended off. Bruce tossed him onto the couch and pressed him down into the cushion. He dragged the Juan's dark blue top upwards so that it was gathered under his shoulders. The boy's bare, lightly tanned torso was heaving as he struggled to regain himself. He had lost the battle but he had won the prize he wanted.

Bruce leaned over him. "Say it, you little cocksucker," he demanded as he pressed his thumbs into the tiny indentations of the boy's nipples. "Say you'll do whatever I want!"

"You want me to suck your cock, don't you?" Juan gasped amid continuing giggles. "I can suck you off just like I did to my mom's john."

"Maybe. I haven't decided what I want you to do yet, mate."

"I bet his cock is way bigger than yours is," Juan taunted.

"Maybe," Bruce replied. The excitement he felt was unlike any he had known. The beautiful boy lying on the couch had an incredible effect on him. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt as though he would explode any second.

"I could barely fit his cock in my mouth, it was so big," Juan added in a sing-song teasing voice. "It was AWE…SOME."

Bruce gazed down on the inert, nearly naked boy, his eyes drawn to the small genitals. Juan was not fully erect but he was not far from it. His penis had stiffened more than enough to reveal his excitement. Compared to the massive organs of his previous partners, the boy's penis was tiny. Its small size made it appear delicate, like a fragile jewel that adorned the center of the young body. It served only to increase the man's arousal.

"What if I want to suck yours instead?" Bruce countered.

He tried to imagine the taste of the juvenile sex organs but he could not. He had always wondered how his own penis had tasted when he was still immature. Bruce reached for the small penis and smirked. Juan responded like a child who was denied the pleasure it sought. He pouted, half in jest, half serious.

"I'll suck you, okay," Juan said quickly. Then without warning he changed his mind. "I'll do what ever you want, mate," he mocked.

He shivered as Bruce's fingers brushed lightly against his belly and descended slowly down his hip and onto his thigh. Then back again, leaving a tingling trail of excited nerves as it travelled ever closer to his groin. The man's fingers stroked into the moist furrow between leg and scrotum and then continued back to the junction of belly and thigh. Their eyes met knowingly and Bruce's fingers enclosed the stubby shaft of an almost rigid penis. They breathed out in unison. Juan's penis jumped as it flexed instinctively in the endless search for even greater stimulation. His testicles had tightened into a small inflexible knot that was as wrinkled and large as a walnut shell.

"That feels real good, doesn't it?" Bruce inquired as his fingers massaged the small glans that was hidden under the boy's foreskin

"It's great," Juan sighed.

Two fingers and a thumb enclosed his penis and gripped the satin-smooth skin. Bruce's hand began to move imperceptibly but it instantly evoked another sigh. "Yeahhh," the boy breathed out in immediate response. Surprisingly, the response was born of instinct for Juan had never masturbated properly. In six months of self-pleasuring he had never discovered more than the delight that came from fingering and squeezing the sensitive skin of his penis.

"That's nice," he murmured.

Bruce's finger's gripped the small shaft harder and expertly pushed down the length of it. The foreskin easily retracted and the tiny glans appeared. Sheltered from the irritation of clothing, its delicate membrane was blue-purple in color with a crimson slit on the underside, what was now the upper side. It was the first time that Bruce had seen an opening displaced and he stared in fascination. The slit was where the glans merged with the shaft. It was not an unusual birth defect and was less serious that most, merely one of inconvenience when urinating, rather than requiring surgical correction.

If Juan had been circumcised, the position of his orifice and the appearance of his glans would have been disturbing. As it was, the opening occurred at the point where the corona began to flare so that it was well hidden by his foreskin when it was not retracted. From the urethral opening, to the tip of Juan's penis was a deep depression that made a prominent groove in the boy's glans. That single defect marred the absolute perfection of the young body but at the same time it served to establish an almost mystical aura about him.

"It must be hard to piss straight," Bruce mused aloud.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" the boy asked. His response came too quickly, his ignorance feigned.

"Oh! Sorry! Nothing, mate."

"You were talking about my dick. I'm not a complete idiot. I know I pee from underneath instead of from the end." The boy shrugged. "I was born like this. It's some kind of birth defect. They told me at the clinic once, you know, the place where Mom goes for her tests, only I forgot what it's called."

Bruce nodded sagely. "It makes you look different. I kind of like it. You're special."

Juan smiled awkwardly. "It's not like I have six fingers or something like that. Most of the time you can't even see it. It's only when it gets stiff like this and the skin pulls back."

He reached down and touched Bruce's fingers with his own. "If you don't like it you can pull the skin back over it." Bruce's hand moved away. "I didn't say to stop," Juan complained. "It feels really great. I've never rubbed it up and down like that before. Keep on doing it," he added excitedly.

Bruce grinned back at the boy. "I don't believe you've never jerked off before. You do play with yourself, don't you?"

Juan shook his head. "I play with it all the time, only I don't do it like this. I don't know why, I suppose I never thought you could it like that. It feels much nicer like this. I guess I just found out how to do it properly."

He looked down and studied the rhythmic movement of the man's hand as if to commit every action to memory. He giggled. "You're making it really stiff by doing it like that. It feels like it's going to explode any second."

Bruce raised his eyebrows and then gasped in mock horror. "Blood and bits of boy-dick all over the room. What is you mom going to say?" he teased. "That's how it's supposed to feel, mate."

His fingers slid along the short shaft, moving with surprising speed. He concentrated on the now-very-swollen glans. The small penis appeared even darker in color than it had been only a few minutes earlier. Tiny blue veins swelled up on the underside and the minute meatus opened up with each upward motion. The boy wriggled uncomfortably as the tension began to grow exponentially. His leg muscles ached. His breathing became erratic until he was gasping for each lung full. Bruce's hand moved expertly, taking the boy to ever increasing heights with every variation that he tried. Then without warning, Juan grasped the pillow beside him and buried his face as he cried out for mercy. His orgasm came and went in a flash as the lower half of his body jerked quickly with a passing spasm. His first time was gone before he realized it had even happened. He groaned from deep in his chest and pushed his face harder into the pillow.

Bruce grinned and released the captive penis. Juan's orgasm had been dry as he expected but the short rigid organ had quaked under his fingers as if to expel its fluid. He reached up and gently brushed the hair back from Juan's forehead as he lifted away the pillow. The boy looked at him dumbly. There was a sense of wonder in the dark eyes, of bewilderment, of pleasure, of gratitude, and of embarrassment.

"What happened?" he murmured.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah I liked it. But what happened? I felt like I was going to die for a second. I felt great until then. Shit! What did you do to me? There was this weird feeling down there. It was awesome, like I was going to explode or something."

"You had an orgasm, that's all." Bruce caressed the smooth cheek. "That was the first time it happened to you, wasn't it?"

"I never felt anything like that before," Juan replied. "Never!" he added adamantly.

They gazed at each other. "Is that how it feels when you do it? When you have sex?" the boy asked curiously.

Bruce nodded and the boy sighed in contentment. His satisfaction lasted until the next question came to him. He tried to postpone the inevitable. "Bruce, if I ask you a question, will you promise not to laugh?" he queried nervously.

"I'll try," the man answered. "Are you afraid you hurt something? You didn't. You'll feel better in a couple of minutes."

"No! I feel okay now, just tired." The boy summoned his courage and blurted it out. "When you were my age, well did you want to be a girl?"

"A girl? What? Instead of a boy?" Bruce answered in surprise. He glanced down at the boy before him. There was something about the question that frightened him. It went far beyond an attraction to his own sex. He sensed the boy's confusion as he watched the dark eyes try to avoid his own. He answered honestly as he gently stroked the warm softness of the inside of Juan's thigh. He marvelled at smoothness – there was no hair, not even a faint dusting of peach-fuzz.

"No! I always wanted to be with a man. I didn't want that. Why? Is that what you want?"

"Oh! No! Well, I guess not. I mean, well… sometimes I think about it, you know that I'd kind of like to be a girl. I think that I'd be happier if I was, instead of being a boy."

"If you were a girl, you know we couldn't have done what we just did?" Bruce added placatingly. "There's nothing to hold onto with a girl."

"Yeah, I guess not." The boy smiled slightly and then paused thoughtfully. "But you could fuck me," he responded.

"You don't have to be a girl to be able to do that," Bruce observed.

"I don't understand." His heart leaped with immediate joy and his slender body quivered with a surge of adrenaline. His mouth remained opened in awe. "You're kidding me, Bruce," he denied momentarily.

"Guys can fuck each other, you dummy. What do you think gays do together?"

"Uh? I thought…" The boy blushed visibly embarrassed by his own ignorance. "I thought… well that they sucked and did other stuff like that. But!… How do they fuck then?" Juan asked slowly as he pondered the mechanics.

"How do you think, mate?"

"I don't know. If I knew I wouldn't be asking you, would I?" the boy chided. "I thought you were supposed to be the teacher. Some teacher you turned out to be."

"It goes in your backside." Bruce laughed. "You don't have a cunt so you use your butt instead."

"Liar! You're kidding me."

"Hardly mate. Why do you think they call it butt-fucking for? I'm sure you've heard the expression from kids at school."

"I guess. Yeah, I suppose so. But, well… I didn't think it meant anything. It really goes in my bottom?" Juan asked in astonishment.

"It really does."

"But the guys at school, they make dirty jokes about doing it back there. I always thought they were making it up. I thought that was what made the jokes funny, doing it where you poop from. Besides my mom doesn't do it like that."

"She doesn't have to."

Juan shrugged and slowly smiled as he realized the extent of his ignorance. "No, I guess not. But isn't it dirty? That is where I poop from," he admitted.

"I guess it depends on how you think about it. I don't think it is, but then I that's because I do it. Not everyone thinks like me. You and I are part of a ten percent minority."

Juan nodded and as he did so, Bruce's hand gradually crept from the boy's bare thigh closer to his now relaxed penis. Juan grinned in willing assent to the continued invasion of his private parts. But this time instead of enclosing his penis, the man's fingers moved to his testicles. They began to rub, gently massaging the tender eggs back and forth as they rolled within their silken purse.

"Bruce, but I don't understand. Well how do guys do it, then? Does it go inside? I guess it has to if you fuck, doesn't it?"

"Of course it goes inside your butt."

The boy's mouth opened again in awe. "The whole way in?" he choked.

"Sometimes. It depends. Some guys don't like it all the way in."

The boy's astonishment did not abate. Juan remembered the size of the man's penis from only two days earlier. "There's no way it could fit," he thought aloud. Then he realized that he had spoken and he looked sheepishly at Bruce. "I was just thinking about the guy who my mom caught me with. I never saw one big as his before. There's no way he could fit in me."

Bruce chuckled. "Well mate, if you can suck it, you can probably fuck it."

Juan grinned back at the man. "Well you didn't see it. Man, it was huge," he retorted. "There's no way it could fit in my butt-hole," he added with emphasis as he continued to dispute the truth of Bruce's claims.

But even as the boy examined the anatomical difficulties of engaging in anal sex he began to appreciate the possibilities. Though gradually accepting that there was no logic to it, there did appear to be a peculiar thrill that accompanied the notion of having a man's penis inside his bowel; if it was indeed possible.

The man shrugged. "You'll find out in your own good time, mate. There's no rush to get your arse stuffed. You'll probably hate it the first few times anyway. It hurts like hell until you get used to having it in there."

In response, Juan pouted. With his bottom lip pushed forward, Juan was irresistible. The urge to kiss the boy came suddenly. Bruce leaned forward and over Juan but as he neared the young mouth he sensed the beautiful body below him become tense. At the last moment, Juan's head turned to the side, instinctively resisting the intimate contact that the man proffered. The unwelcome kiss landed on his cheek and immediately, the boy's hand wiped defensively across his face.

Bruce pulled back. "Sorry, mate," he muttered awkwardly as the boy turned back to look at him uncertainly. Too late Bruce remembered his own boyhood and the first time that he had been kissed. He had been repulsed at the time. He had just been much more intimate than Juan had been and he had felt nauseated as the man's lips engaged his, sickened as the man's tongue penetrated his mouth. He wondered why a boy could engage in oral sex with apparent impunity and then become chaste and squeamish when a single kiss was exchanged. From the outset he had not been revolted when the man had sucked his penis or when he returned the favor.

With that in mind, Bruce lowered his head over the boy's genitals. This time there was no rejection as his lips brushed against the small penis. His tongue touched the warm skin and he licked it thoroughly, going back and forth across the sensitive flesh. He nibbled on the tiny glans, placing his teeth behind the corona, and expertly massaging the rounded end with his tongue as hard as he could. He brought his right hand back to the boy's small testicles. Again he squeezed them, this time harder than before, palpitating them with deliberate though carefully applied pressure.

Under Bruce's ministrations the boy's penis began to stiffen again. It took less than a minute to shrug of its stupor and resume its former rigidity. As he felt the hardness return Bruce remembered his own youth. The frequency with which he had erections was still there, but the ability to recover so quickly from orgasm was only a dim memory. There had been but a few times with his first lover before he had become sexually mature. It had lasted all of three or four months.

Fully erect, but stiller smaller than the man's thumb, Juan's penis was easily engorged. Bruce sucked with a vacuum that threatened to detach the small shaft. Then seeking more of the boy's delicious body, Bruce pressed the testicles forward and into his mouth. Juan gasped. The sensation was unlike anything he had known. At once very hot and wet, it pulled him inwards with a force that threatened to tear him apart. A wonderful glow rose through him and his blood rushed to fill the vacuum that was his genitals. He groaned and his hips lifted up urgently to meet the insistent suction, to give all of himself. His entire body seemed to be focused in three short, very hard inches of his penis. His knees drew up, higher and higher until his heels were digging into the couch and his thighs gripped the man's head resolutely.

"Oh God," Juan whimpered. "Oh!"

With his fingers covered in the saliva that drooled from his mouth and its imperfect seal around the young boy's genitals, there was ample lubrication for what naturally followed. Bruce's hand pushed under Juan's buttocks, easily finding the boy's anus several inches beyond the tapered end of his scrotum. The tip of one finger pressed into the heat that emanated from the tiny depression. The puckered flesh yielded as Bruce's finger began to push inward.

For a moment Juan's hips lifted up in an instinctive response to protect himself. He had never been touched there and his reaction was a natural escape to avoid the violation of his privacy. But Bruce's finger moved with him, squeezing forward and penetrating the tight band. He entered the boy's anus only as far as the first joint and then the onslaught stopped. Juan had struggled only for a few seconds, his anus tightening in a vain effort to eliminate the intruder. He relaxed slowly and breathed out as he realized that he liked it. And then the finger began to move in a circle, loosening him as it began a cautious probing of his rectum. As the finger wriggled and squirmed so did Juan. It was impossible not to like it. A strange and wonderful feeling surged through him. It began where Bruce's finger was, where his mouth was, but it ran through his body like wild fire. He writhed in ecstasy and his anus began to dilate as Bruce's finger stabbed deeper and faster into him. He felt the pressure building inside him again and the sense that he was about to explode returned.

Chapter 3
Cherry Stains

"Well just look at you two queers. Goddamn fucking cold!" she swore angrily. "Coleman sent me home, the fuckin' asshole. Didn't want me snottin' over the customers, he said." She dug into her open purse, extracted a tissue, and wiped her nose. She looked back at them with contempt, her disgust clearly visible. "And what do I fuckin' find when I get home? I find two queers getting it off on my couch. God, Bruce, I asked you to talk to him about sex, not screw his goddamned ass," she shouted.

Bruce shrugged unconcernedly. "Sorry, Julia. Things kind of got out of control. But really, what did you expect? A little father-son talk with your son?"

"Not this, that's for sure." She wiped at her nose again and pushed the tissue back in her handbag. "Yeah, I bet things got out of control. I thought you had a thing for young men, Bruce. Not some pissant kid who hasn't even got hair on his cock yet."

"That's what I thought up till now," Bruce acknowledged with a smile. "Juan is something else," he added as he glanced down at the boy. Juan's face had reddened in embarrassment and he looked away as he tried to hide his shame.

"Yeah, I'm sure he is, for a faggot."

"So what if he's a wonk, he sure is sexy," Bruce smirked. "It's about time he started getting his rocks off."

She started to laugh. "If you're saying that blowing my john was only the start for the little faggot, well I guess you're right, Bruce."

Juan's teeth clenched and then he screamed in frustration. "I hate you. I don't like what I am but I can't help it."

His mother turned on him viciously as she released her pent-up anger. "Just get out of my sight, damn you. Go to your room and stay there."

There was a long resentful silence for the time it took Juan to gather his sweat pants and socks and leave the room. As the boy passed through the doorway next to his mother she grasped his shoulder.

"Where the fuck is your brother?"

"He's downstairs with Brian. He's staying for dinner. I told him to be home by ten, okay," Juan retorted.

He walked awkwardly as pushed past his mother. He wanted only to escape to the privacy of his own room. They waited until they heard the door to his bedroom close.

"Well?" Julia asked.

"I'm sorry. Like I said, things went a bit further than I expected." Bruce paused and sighed thoughtfully. "You already knew he was queer, didn't you. So, what did you expect?"

"Well not this, that's for sure. Did you really think I wanted you to screw him?" Julia asked.

"Probably not," Bruce acknowledged. "But he's sitting on a gold mine, so to speak."

"Meaning what exactly?"

Bruce smiled and stroked his upper lip thoughtfully. "He's as cute as they come. And he's as gay as any kid I've ever seen."

"So what?"

"He could easily make two hundred a trick, if he wanted to that is. Maybe even double that with the right people."

"Get real. The kids hustling downtown make nothing like that. Forty bucks, sixty tops," she retorted. "I'm lucky to make a couple of hundred on a good night and you really think he could make it on a single trick. Get real."

"I'm not talking about him working Vaseline Valley, Julia. And even if I was, the kids who are making forty or fifty a trick are a lot older than he is. Anyway, mostly they're only doing blow jobs for that," Bruce explained patiently. "They're drugged out of their minds and not one of them have his looks. The kids that don't have Aids are rotten with the clap." He stood up and took several steps towards her. "Besides Julia, he wouldn't last more than a week. The first time the cops pulled him in, they'd keep him locked up. Just one look at your rap-sheet and he's on his way to Juvenile Court."

"Great idea!" Julia snorted. "So, smart ass, then why don't you tell me exactly how he's sitting on a gold mine."

Bruce smiled patiently. "That's easy. I know some guys who'd pay big bucks for a boy like yours. It's kind of a kiddie fuck club. A boy like Juan would fit right in and do real good. There are five or six men with more money than you or I'll ever know. Juan is the kind of boy they'd be interested in recruiting, even though he's younger than most of the kids they get. He could bring home three, maybe four hundred bucks every weekend."

Julia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What's the catch?"

"There isn't any. Juan would spend weekends with them and a few other boys. They have a farm back in the San Gabriel mountains. It's a nice place. There's a big old hacienda with a pool, even some horses, and unless things have changed there's a chef whose cooking is out of this world. He'd have to be discreet, of course."

Julia nodded, thought for a moment and then nodded again. She smirked. "Sounds like Juan would have himself a lot of fun."

"He'd be a lot safer with them than flogging his arse on the street," Bruce added.

"How come you know so much?" Julia sneered.

"I spent a couple of years with them. I started going out there when I was fourteen. They used to pick me up after school on Friday. I'd stay there until Sunday."

"Five or six men," she mused. Her interest was piqued. There was a little hesitance as her anticipation of additional wealth was confronted by a mother's reluctance to involve her son in such depravity. "You mean he'd be fucked by all of them?"

Bruce nodded. "Most likely. Not at the same time, of course," he added as an after thought. "Of course, Juan would be better off with one guy I know. He's got more money than Croesus, but he's very particular about his young friends. Still, I think he would be very interested in making young Juan's acquaintance. Juan's more than cute enough to interest him and he's at the right age, too. The guy is into young boys."

"So what's the catch this time?" she inquired.

"None. Same kind of deal if Juan makes the cut. He spends Friday nights with him and comes home with six hundred bucks for his trouble. It might even be more. I've heard about one kid who pulled in a grand every time."

"You're kidding, Bruce. You say he'll make twice what he'd get with the other guys. What's he have to do with this weirdo for that kind of money?"

"Same thing! He gets laid a few times every Friday night. The guy is okay. He's good with boys though you probably wouldn't expect it if you knew him. But you do know Paul Luchiano, don't you?" Bruce queried.

"You're joking. Luchiano?" Julia asked in surprise. She started to laugh. "This is unreal. I'm getting screwed every Friday night by Testa and my friggin' kid is gonna get his ass humped by Luchiano. I don't believe it! Testa would have a fit if he found out!"

Bruce lifted his hand deprecatingly. "Between Testa and Luchiano they must control half of the crack in the city. I don't think anyone knows that Luchiano is into little boys? You better make real sure your Mexican boyfriend doesn't find out. They'd kill each other as soon as spit."

Julia nodded. "But isn't Luchiano married?" she continued suspiciously.

"Yes, but so what? It only means he has to be more careful. Juan's going to be the luckiest kid in LA if Luchiano takes him to bed. He couldn't do better if he was getting knocked off by Jacko."

"Who?"

"Jacko. You know, Mikey," Bruce laughed.

"How come you know about Luchiano? Don't tell me you got it off with him too," Julia snickered.

"Not wrong! From the time I was about Juan's age, right up to my fourteenth birthday. Of course, that's the problem with Luchiano. He only likes young boys, the pre-pube kind. Once Juan starts to fill out and mature he'll get the boot. He's got maybe two years left until that happens. Still, he ought to make at least seventy or eighty grand out of his ass by then, maybe even a whole lot more if he really hits it off with Luchiano."

"You really think that he could get more than if he went out to this farm place you mentioned?"

"At least twice the bucks I guess. Luchiano always takes good care of his little friends. Once Luchiano's finished with him, then Juan can always hike his little butt out to the mountains. If he plays his cards right he might even make enough for college," Bruce grinned.

"I don't believe the boy can make that much workin' tricks," Julia said arrogantly. "Juan's only a kid. He doesn't even know what his cock's for yet."

"That's exactly why he can make. Bloody hell, it's just a matter of demand and supply," Bruce interrupted. "With his looks he'll learn his dick's worth more with a guy like Luchiano than just wanking if by himself. And if I'm right, it'll happen quickly enough. There's a lot of pervs out there ready to teach him what his dick's for, and a lot more besides." He looked at Julia quizzically. "So, what do you think?"

"About what? About turning my son into a whore? What's in it for you?"

"My usual cut because I'll set it up. I'll take a third of whatever the kid brings home."

"Two hundred bucks or more for just setting it up? You must be crazy!" Julia snorted.

"Okay! Okay! So I'll pick him up from here and take him to wherever Luchiano wants him. I'll even bring the kid back here when he's done."

"If I was to say yes, why would Juan want to go through with it?" Julia asked cautiously.

"Let me put it this way. Like I said, he'll have more fun than sitting around here wanking his tool by himself. Luchiano will take him to some real nice places. All Juan's got to do is get his heels up a few times a week and he's in clover."

Julia shook her head. "I didn't mean that. Would he do it? I don't want him running off to some counsellor at his school as soon as he gets scared. Do you think he'd want to do it?"

Bruce shrugged. "He's a smart kid, plus he's a faggot. I'll need to have a talk with him beforehand, of course Julia. I wasn't kidding earlier when I said he was sexy. I think he'll go along for the ride, so to speak." The man chuckled. "He'll figure out the benefits pretty quickly."

"All right! If you can talk him into it, I won't say no."

Julia started to walk into the kitchen. Bruce followed close behind her. She went to the refrigerator, opened it and took out two cans of beer. They popped them simultaneously and clinked the cans together before drinking. It sealed the deal.

"So if Juan's interested, what happens next?" Julia asked.

"I need to get a few photos of the boy first, in the raw. I need something I can show to Luchiano, enough to see if he's interested."

"How soon before you can set it up with Luchiano? There's only a few days until Friday. I want to know what's coming down."

"Yeah, sure yer do! What's the sweat for? Christ! I expect it'll take a day or two at most. But if Luchiano wants him, well it'd be a good idea for Juan to have a bit of practice first, if you know what I mean. If he's still a virgin the first time, God only knows what he'll do when Luchiano tries to screw him."

"Does it hurt?" Julia asked. She took another long sip, savoring the coldness in her sore throat.

"Do you really care?" Bruce returned. "How much do you plan on letting Juan keep for himself?" he countered.

She gave him a dismissive glance. "You want to break him in for Luchiano?"

"Do you have anyone else in mind for the job?"

Julia laughed. "Well my darling son tried to suck off one of mine a couple of days ago. I thought maybe I'd bring the guy back to finish the job."

Bruce shook his head as he smiled. "Juan told me about the monster dong. Do you want to kill the poor bugger or break him in? No way, Julia. This has got to be done with finesse. We don't want to damage the merchandise, do we?"

"So why don't you do it? He likes you. Why not right now? "

"Now? Tonight?"

"Why not, Bruce? It's as good a time as any. Besides his brother is out of the way and you can use his room. How long will it take anyway? Do you have somewhere else to go?" she teased.

"Not all that long," Bruce answered. The proposal was interesting and he considered it with growing fascination. "It'll be over before Jamie gets home. What about you?"

"I'm going to bed. It must be the damned flu, I think. I feel like shit."

Bruce nodded. He remembered the beautiful boy lying almost naked on the couch. The softness of the warm young flesh was unforgettable. At the time the desire had been there for both of them although he had dared not admit it, not even to himself, especially not to himself, he corrected.

"You got a frog in here?" Bruce asked as he reached for Julia's handbag.

"A what?"

"A frog! You know, a frenchie. I nor just flippin' his dick, you know. I'm gonna need a rubber for him."

"What the hell do you need that for? He sure ain't going to get pregnant, now is he?" she taunted. "Are you afraid of getting his shit on you cock, is that it?"

For a moment Bruce ignored her jibe and then he smiled. "You know why as well as I do. Now-a-days a kid like Juan better start out learning properly. At his age you can just about guarantee Juan's going to bleed like a stuck pig. He might not get a second chance."

She passed her worn leather handbag over silently and Bruce expertly searched the side pocket. He extracted a single condom in its cellophane packet and then removed a tube of K-Y. It was half finished. The end of it was rolled up clumsily and the top was smeared with clear ooze.

"Why does the little fucker need that for? I guess his little ass must be too dry to fuck, is that it?" Julia taunted as she leaned forward to recover her handbag. "Just give it back to me when you're done, okay."

Her eyes followed Bruce as he turned and left the kitchen. There was no question in her mind that she had done the right thing. Even conservatively, she counted on six hundred dollars, less three hundred after overhead and expenses. Bruce's two hundred dollars for delivery and a hundred for Juan, still left more money than she needed for crack. The only problem was that the money wouldn't last for more than a few years. And then she smiled as she wondered whether Jamie would follow in his big brother's footsteps. That raised an interesting possibility.

Chapter 4
Used Merchandise

It was nearly eight o'clock before Bruce came back into the kitchen. He had wrapped a towel around his waist to cover his body. Julia glanced up from her slumped position at the kitchen table. Four empty beer cans were lined up like soldiers and a fifth can was within easy reach. She wiped her mouth as Bruce sat down in the seat before her.

"Where's Juan? You finished fuckin' the little brat's ass didn't you?" she slurred loudly.

Bruce breathed out. "He's asleep." He reached for the can of beer. "If you're interested, he's okay. Just worn out, that's all. He'll get over it soon enough."

"You been up his ass all this time? Christ, it's been over two hours," she demanded hotly.

"Hardly, Julia. Mostly we were talking. He has a lot to learn. He's a good kid," the man acknowledged as much to himself as to Juan's mother.

"Did you tell him about Luchiano? He's gonna do it, ain't he? The little fucker, I can tell from your face that he said he would."

"Yeah, he's going to do, Julia. At least he's going to try it once or twice with Luchiano and see if he likes it."

"He fucked with you okay, didn't he?" she demanded. "He liked I bet. He's a goddamn queer just like his father was. Just as soon as I was pregnant with him, the bastard goes off and starts screwing my little brother."

"Yeah, Juan's okay." Bruce drank slowly and then opened his other hand. He dropped a wadded-up handkerchief onto the table and spread it out. The cloth was no longer white. The center of it was smeared and streaked with red blood. It was still wet.

"What's that?" Julia belched.

"You might say they're cherry stains. What did you expect?"

"Cherry stains? Christ, what did you do to him?" Julia asked. She coughed and reached out for the beer can.

"I think you've had enough booze for tonight," Bruce answered as he refused to hand it over. "I told you Juan was a virgin. You know Julia, I forgot how tight a kid's spink was before it got stretched out," he teased. "He's okay. There's always some blood the first few times. He'll bleed a bit till he gets used to it."

"So did he like it?" Julia persisted. "Did he like having your cock up his ass?"

Bruce shrugged. For a moment he wondered whether Juan had derived any enjoyment at all from it. He wasn't sure whether any boy actually liked it the first time. He tried to think back, wondering whether he had. Mostly for a boy of Juan's age it was a matter of tolerating the pain until it ended, of trying not to cry as a man-sized penis pounded into his gut. That Juan had cried at first had come as no surprise to him, but after the initial penetration and his anus had relaxed, it had seemed to get better for the boy. His wailing had slowly turned to a quiet puppy-dog whine that was almost of pleasure. And at the end, as he pumped faster and deeper into the loose, sucking hole, increasingly desperate lunges that heralded the approach of his own orgasm, it had seemed that the boy was pushing back at him as he grunted. Had Juan enjoyed it? It was more than likely. He nodded cautiously as he watched for her response but there was none.

"He was as horny as a bitch in heat," Bruce stated flatly and then added sincerely, "Yeah, I guess he liked it by the end. I don't imagine young Juan will have too many problems by the time Luchiano takes him to bed."

Even though it was true, his answer shocked him. Juan had been reluctant at first and it had taken a long while to coax him into it. It was not seduction. Though the nearly twelve-year-old boy had ever been with another male, he was eager to explore. What had held him back was neither innocence nor immaturity. It was simply a deep-rooted fear of his mother. Once Juan had understood that Bruce was in his room with his mother's approval, his fear began to dissipate. As he learned that his mother actually sanctioned what Bruce wanted him to do, his inhibitions began to crumble. Not much more than an hour after Bruce had closed the door behind him, he began to insert his penis into the boy's small anus.

In the beginning there had been little pleasure in it for either of them. Long accustomed to accepting a passive role, Bruce was reluctant to do what was expected of him. His diffidence was exacerbated by the fact that he had never been attracted to young boys. He had been mechanical, avoiding the boy's eyes as he took on the role of instructor and carefully probed into the tight orifice. There had been no passion, at least none that Bruce had experienced. Bruce drank again, now finding solace for his guilt in the cold beer.

"Is the kid ready for Luchiano?" Julia asked.

Bruce looked up suddenly. "Uh? Is he ready? Yeah, I guess he is. It wouldn't hurt for him to do it a few more times first. He's still got a lot to learn but mostly the kid needs to get used to having a man's dong stuffed up his brownie."

"What did he say when you told him about Luchiano?"

"Nothing much. He sulked a bit. I guess he expected he was gonna get if off with me from now on," Bruce replied. "Maybe I will in a few more years. Right now it would be a goddamned waste."

"It's a pity you're queer, Brucie," Julia taunted loudly. "I could do with a man about now. I always knew you were into guys, but I hardly expected you to take on a little kid. You must be a great fuck, especially for a kid like him. Yes, I can just imagine how much little Juan liked you humping against his ass."

"I do okay. Your son can hold his own too for that matter, Julia. I guess he's just like his mom in that respect." Bruce smiled slyly. The last two hours with Juan had been as close as he would ever come to copulating with a member of the opposite sex. "Anyway, a few weeks from now and he'll bang like a shit-house door."

"Then it's a pity he only has a few years left to spend with Luchiano, isn't it." Julia belched again and reached under the table to scratch her crotch. "He's nearly twelve now. He isn't going to be a cute little boy much longer."

Bruce regarded her curiously. "Well short of putting his balls on the chopping block there's not much either of us can do about that, now is there? Talk about damaged goods, the little poofter wouldn't be worth shit without his nuts."

That was a lie but Julia would never know it. There something he could do but only he and Juan would ever know about it.

Juan lay on the bed, still naked and exposed to the cool air of the evening. He was not asleep, though he had drifted off only a few minutes earlier in a restless escape from the pain in his lower abdomen. For a while his thoughts wandered aimlessly, eventually coming back to the problem that now confronted him. He had never been so confused about his feelings, about who he was. And he hurt inside. The pain was dull but relentless, an ever present burning ache of tortured and bruised flesh. The tender lining of his rectum had been abraded. His once-tight anus had been forced open as he was impaled. Bruce's penis rammed into him. The muscular band of his anus had been stretched beyond it's limit as it endeavored to accommodate the man's organ and a small fissure had formed.

Juan turned uncomfortably onto his side and carefully drew his knees upward until they were against his chest. In that position the pain was bearable. It slowly faded to a sensation of fullness, a continuing feeling that the man's penis was still enclosed inside him. He wiped the wetness from his cheeks with the corner of his pillow and sniffed loudly. A strange, though not unpleasant aroma lingered in the room. It was tinged with the pungent odor of feces, Juan could not determine its origin, though it was a smell that was reminiscent of the yeasty dough that came from the bakery he passed on his way to school.

He lay quietly, thinking to himself and remembering what had happened on his bed. With each minute the fullness inside him seemed to increase until it felt like it was bulging into his belly. He cramped and he groaned as the pressure increased. For one awful moment he thought that his bowels had released. He farted and air gurgled wetly as it gushed in a wheezing expulsion through his dilated anus. Absently, his right hand felt his buttocks and he cautiously examined the cleft between his cheeks for the feces he expected to find. He felt wetness only as his fingers pushed into the cleft and brushed against the swollen node of his anus.

Bruce had wiped him clean afterwards. Bruce had carefully turned him onto his belly and placed his legs apart. Then with meticulous care and gentle dabs with his handkerchief, the man had removed the sloppy mess that had formed between Juan's thighs. It was done with such thoroughness that it was as if the man was expunging any sign of what had transpired on the boy's bed. He wiped away the evidence of his guilt. Juan's fingers felt the heat that now oozed out of him. It was slippery, like snot. It was just like the stuff that Bruce had used to 'lube' him. His deft fingers pressed into the slime, sliding in the film between them. He gently tested his anus with a light pressure. It did not hurt the way he expected it to, in fact the coolness of his fingers felt nice. He probed it again and felt the it give way. The openness surprised him. His anus appeared to be wide open, a gaping hole into the dark depths of his body. That frightened him and for a long time he wondered whether he had been permanently damaged. He realized that he had been injured for he had seen the blood on the handkerchief and knew that it could only have come from one place. His panic had been quickly squelched as Bruce explained that it was normal, that it would stop quickly, that he would bleed until he got used to it. Without even thinking, the boy continued his process of discovery. Two of Juan's fingers penetrated the puffy opening, gliding on the residual of gel that had remained inside him. His anus offered to no resistance and within seconds both fingers could go no further. His knuckles squeezed into his crack as he pushed as hard as he could. He sighed as he felt his own fingers and the delicious sensation returned. It easily overwhelmed the pain he felt. He moved them back and forth, simulating the motion of Bruce's penis. The sensation changed and immediately became more intense, more demanding, more enjoyable. The pain vanished.

"Oh man," he muttered to himself in disbelief.

His fingers squirmed, twisting like two squirrels in playful combat. He gasped as his nerves began to tingle and without warning the feeling became infinitely better than anything he had felt with Bruce. For the nearly twelve-year-old boy it was impossible to believe that his body could feel so wonderful. As before, the pressure in his lower abdomen began to increase. He stopped only when it became painful to continue. He felt as if he would burst if he continued a moment longer. With reluctance, Juan pulled his fingers free of the sucking, mushy tissue that held them. Air burst out him. The explosion of gas was violent and it frightened the boy. Again he examined his buttocks, this time less cautious than before. He found nothing and he breathed out in relief. He lifted his right hand up and inspected his fingers. He had expected to find feces on his fingers but there was none, not even a trace of brown. He brought his fingers closer to his face and curiously smelled the glistening streaks that coated them. He immediately identified the source of the strange aroma. It was a nice smell he decided. He wiped his fingers clean on a corner of his pillow.

Slowly he straightened his legs out, moved them to one side, and sat up on the edge of the bed. Three thin folds of skin formed at his waist. He glanced downward and studied his small, wilted genitals. Although his erection had disappeared as soon as Bruce's penis had started into him, he still felt drained. His exhaustion showed in his shrivelled penis and scrotum. Juan was no longer oblivious to the soreness inside him. It had returned as soon as he had started to move in a sitting position. He shifted uncomfortably and looked around his room, barely recognizing the familiar surroundings that his been his home for five years. Suddenly he felt very tired, as if the strength in his body had been suctioned out and he existed only as a shell. Every movement was now an effort for him. He sat quietly. His mind was in turmoil, even thinking in any logical way was impossible, but he knew that he should not try to stand.

Juan looked at the night-stand between the two beds and hesitantly reached for the evidence. It was the proof of what he had done. He fingered the rubber sheath of the condom tentatively, first prodding it with his forefinger as if it might bite him before cautiously rubbing it. He could see the white fluid inside the translucent membrane. It was a slippery gooey fluid, similar to, though thicker than cream. He examined the yellowish membrane carefully, mystified by the change in its appearance. When Bruce had shown him how to put it on it had looked very different. No longer a tightly coiled band, the used contraceptive had become stretched out into a long, thin tube that was soggy and cold.

Once Juan had agreed to do it, things had happened quickly. There was, in the urgency of the moment, a rush of uncertainty but Bruce was adamant. By that time, the man was also naked and they were lying on the bed together. Even though Bruce had insisted that they would stop whenever Juan wanted, upon reflection the boy knew that it would have happened no matter what he said. In the privacy of his own room, Juan had been confronted for the first time by his own desires and a man who was as gay as he was. His decision was both instinctive and impulsive. Juan had gradually become more and more excited until it seemed that every part of his body was tingling with the thrill of contacting the man's bare flesh. His penis had become very hard, considerably harder than Bruce's penis. It had stiffened until it was so rigid that it might even snap off if mistreated. When the time came he had straddled the man's legs and followed the directions he was given. He had been surprised as his unrolled the pliable skin down the man's penis for it had not looked as though it was big enough to cover the swollen six-inch [15 cm] shaft. But it stretched over the bulging veins and made them less prominent and unrolled all the way to the hairy pubis. And then he had smiled eagerly. He realized what would happen next and he greeted the knowledge with enthusiasm.

Presently he picked it up by holding the slimy film between two fingers. The outside of it was still wet. The wetness came from him, and from the stuff that Bruce had squeezed into his anus. He mused quietly as he examined the contents again, closer and more carefully. Though as well informed as any twelve-year old boy, Juan had never seen semen before, at least not like this. He had seen the telltale dark spots on his mother's sheets, the crumpled moist tissues on the night-stand, even the starchy cloth of her clothes, but never the real thing. There was a lot more of it than he had expected. It was funny to think that the stuff inside could make babies and kill at the same time but he knew enough about Aids to know its deadly consequences.

For a few seconds Juan wondered how it would have felt if it had gone inside his bottom instead. He smiled as he remembered the feeling of Bruce's penis jerking inside him right at the end, only moments before he had stopped moving. It seemed as though he could feel something squirting into him, a distinct pressure and then a sloppy, hot sensation deep inside him about where the man's penis ended. At the time it had frightened him because Bruce had become increasingly frantic. By then the man's hips had come tightly against his thighs with each inward thrust.

Even as Bruce had started the long process of inserting his penis into the virgin boy, Juan's position had been uncomfortable. He could not move. His legs were lifted up and pushed into his chest and held there so that he could not offer even the slightest resistance. His bare feet felt cold. He had only wanted for it to end but he needed it go on and on forever. He sighed, remembering how it seemed to get looser once Bruce's penis was inside him. It felt terrible at first. There was an immense pressure concentrated in a very small spot. It came in waves, each stronger than the last. After several minutes Bruce had stopped and hugged him. The worst was over, he said. It would only get better. He was shaking, quivering with fear that his agony would get worse until he died. Like a huge stake, the man's penis was being driven into him. His body tried to resist but each tightening spasm on the invading penis caused cruel tremors. It was as if every motion tore him further apart. Stretched to the limit, the young body relinquished its innocence and finally accepted defeat. Bruce's penis slid the rest of the way into his rectum. The worst was over, the onslaught for this time at least, was finished.

When Bruce resumed, it was with gentle thrusts that went back and forth as he rocked against Juan's buttocks. As the young body loosened the good feelings began. They became stronger and stronger until his earlier pain was only a dim memory. But those first joys were only a precursor for what followed. The sensation became ever more enjoyable. With every minute the delight intensified, becoming better and better until Juan's body began to move in unison. With every forward thrust that slammed into his, his narrow hips braced and his slender belly muscles became taut, resisting its power so that he felt the full force. He wanted to lift up to meet it but movement was impossible. Each thrust came into his belly with a rush that pushed the air from his lungs. He grunted as he exhaled and then sucked for air frantically as Bruce's penis pulled back.

Juan stood up gingerly. He winced as the pain seared his fragile body and he braced his legs against the bed as he tottered weakly. He closed his eyes and tried to focus his effort on not falling down. He breathed deeply. He was aware of a void inside him, an unpleasant hollow feeling that now existed where Bruce's penis had been. He concentrated on trying to remove the emptiness in his bowel, squeezing unseen muscles of his lower abdomen that pulled his testicles fractionally higher. He winced again as a small spasm came quickly and more air gurgled from his anus.

Still carrying the dirtied condom daintily, he shuffled to the bathroom. The urge to defecate was upon him without warning and he slumped down onto the toilet seat. There was another painful cramp, another spasm, and another explosion from his exhausted bowel. It was wetter than before and it felt as though muddy ooze had squirted out. Tiredly, Juan's head dropped down to his knees and he cried softly as he wished the pain would go away.

It took ten more minutes before Juan considered trying to stand up again and he did so carefully. He wiped the tears from his face and realized that he was okay. The pain had abated to an uncomfortable rawness that necessarily accompanied his bruised flesh and slightly torn anus. He moved with deliberate slowness to the vanity and splashed refreshingly cold water over his face. Feeling better, he dampened a wash cloth and cautiously sponged between the small cheeks of his buttocks. Juan quickly decided that the coldness was nice and he wet the wash cloth again after meticulously rinsing out the dark fecal stains. His anus was swollen and bulged outward to form a sensitive lump between his cheeks. Each gentle dab he applied with the wash cloth was soothing to him.

Satisfied that he could do all that he could to relieve his discomfort, Juan rinsed out the wash cloth and flushed the toilet. The fluid that had been expelled from his bowel disappeared in a brown swirl as the boy watched curiously. With it went his shame and guilt.

Both Julia and Bruce were surprised when Juan walked into the kitchen. For his mother, it was the first time in several years that she had seen her son with nothing on. Not since he had started the third grade, when he entered a period of modesty, had she looked upon his exposed body. Since then, he seldom disrobed even as far as his underpants in her presence.

Now denuded before her, she did not look away from the boy, but studied him carefully. She had always known that both of her sons were like their father, both exceedingly handsome, but even in her drunken confusion she realized that without his clothes, Juan was astoundingly beautiful. She wondered when he changed from an awkwardly proportioned boy with the softness of baby fat to the lithe slender youth who now stood shamelessly before her. Though still immature, her son was beguiling. The color of his skin was not only much lighter than hers but he was hairless. There was a softness to his smooth, nearly translucent skin that made her jealous.

Her son stood close to Bruce as if seeking his protection while he flaunted his newly discovered sexuality. The boy's genitals were distracting to his mother. The small appendage between Juan's slender legs that should have been easily dismissed as impotent and ineffective, could not be avoided. It was as if the child's sex was misleading.

"You okay?" Bruce asked quietly.

Juan nodded silently and glanced down to meet the man's eyes. Before he looked up again they had formed a secret bond. Then, for a moment Juan stared at his mother impudently, boldly challenging her to acknowledge his presence. She simpered back at him.

"Get some clothes on," she commanded. "Go cover yourself up," she added.

Juan smirked. "Why? Bruce has seen it, Mom In fact he's already done a lot more than just see me naked, hasn't he?" He looked at his mother, a reprehensible stare, of reproach and blame. Juan tensed and breathed deeply. "You let him fuck me," he said quietly. There was silence in the kitchen. "Well didn't you?" he screamed angrily. The woman glared back at the boy. "You want me to fuck his friend too, don't you?" Juan spat out.

"You do what you want to do," Julia spattered. "You're old enough to decide what you want up your ass."

"What if I don't want to fuck this guy?"

"That's up to you but it's about time you did something to help out. I've worked hard to keep you and your brother. I've gone without things. Besides, you might as well sell it as give it away."

Juan sobbed. "You want me to be a whore like you, don't you?" He paused and wiped his eyes with the back of hand. "All you want is money for more drugs," he added hotly.

"For money or love?" Bruce said. "That's the big question, isn't it mate? You either do it because you love the guy or because you want the money. You can take your pick but any way you look at it, well it's still fun, isn't it?"

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll do it," Juan said plaintively. "I'll do it with Bruce's friend. He can fuck my butt and you can have your damned money. I don't care. I hate you!" he shouted as he ran from the kitchen back into his own bedroom. Julia and Bruce looked at each other.

"Don't worry, he'll get over it," Bruce said apologetically. "He's just angry right now because he doesn't understand. I better go have a chat with him."

NEXT PART