J.O. Dickingson

The Gargoyle of Male Fecundity

Chapters 25-26

Chapter 25

On their fourth day at the campground, they gathered at the picnic shelter in the tenting area for the third birthday of Tim and Taylor's son, Christopher, the first baby to have been born at the campground. It was a happy day for the mild-mannered, bespeckled teacher and the quiet, fair-haired, gifted student who had met at a conference for the gifted four years ago at a session on ceramics put on by the ancient oriental who had played a role in many of their lives. It was also a particularly special day for the five men and boys who had been present at the boy's birth and as they gathered around and sang Happy Birthday they all recalled the excitement of that day when Taylor, six at the time, had given birth while playing cars and trucks with the other boys at the camp playground. Tim had baked six large cakes and then put them together and covered them with icing to look like one, enough for everyone to have several helpings, and with twenty-three hungry men, twenty-three lively boys including five who were pregnant, and fifteen active toddlers besides nine babies under the age of one, that was a lot of cake. The five men who had been present at Christopher's birth and had been named his godparents brought everything else for the party. Ray had provided a couple buckets of ice cream and the balloons and streamers and paper plates and plastic utensils, Bobby and Kyle under the supervision of Billy's uncle Ted had followed his special recipe and baked enough beans to feed an army, and Tom and Thaddeus provided the wieners, buns and fixings.

"So, three years old," observed Thaddeus Wojciech, thinking back to the day of the boy's birth. It had been particularly impressive for the Polish visitor in that his and Klaus's own son, Karol, had not yet been born. The former stevedore shook his head. "It does not seem so much time has passed. Have you had talk with him yet?"

"Talk?" asked Tim.

"You know. About birds and bees, and especially planting seeds?" the muscular Polish dockworker said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Ah. Not yet."

"You had better," observed Bobby, "or you'll be having some very awkward conversations with some very surprised and disbelieving strangers."

They all laughed, Phil having told about his awkward meeting with Tom, and Kyle having described his meeting with Jack earlier, and Bobby and Billy having amused them during the previous evening campfire chat with their tale of tracking down all those whom their toddler, Billy Bob, the oldest of the special youngsters there, had seeded. Laughing the hardest were Nat, Norm and Peter, the three of them recalling their conversation with the burly truck driver and now looking adoringly at their five month old sons as they were being breastfed by their boymates, the three young boys eagerly devouring the cake and ice cream with their free hand.

"Taylor and I will certainly be having a word with him," Tim said with a grin.

The image of the quiet, mild-mannered, bespeckled teacher and his shy, fair-haired boymate approaching some burly lumberjack about being a boylover and having impregnated his young companion whom their toddler had seeded crossed more than one mind from the smiles being exchanged. Those who knew them from past gatherings noticed how much the thirty-three-year-old teacher and nine-year-old boy were beginning to look like father and son with their identical round, thin-rimmed glasses, fine hair and short haircuts and matching shirts and shorts. Besides his parents, the birthday boy's godparents brought gifts and from the number of children's books, board games and computer programs it was evident they all knew the interests of the boy's parents and that there was no doubt the boy would grow up as gifted as his little father.

Nat Griffin, the forty-three-year-old Afro-American trumpet player originally from New Orleans and presently living with his sister, glanced down at his five-month-old son peacefully sleeping in his arms and then at his seven-year-old nephew and boymate Kwame sitting beside him. "So, if I understand this right, now that Tim's son is three, he has this ability to produce this seed, and if he, ah, plants it in another boy, that boy will have the ability to get pregnant, and when our sons are three they will have the same ability to plant these seeds?" he asked. Of course Bobby had explained Billy Bob's abilities and how Kwame had gotten the ability to become pregnant, but it was a difficult, and unbelievable, concept for one to get one's head around even when one had experienced it. He was not the only one of the new fathers still recovering from the birth of their sons and needing reaffirmation just what had happened and just what sort of babies they'd produced and the others all perked up their ears.

"That's right," Harold replied, appreciating the bewilderment the new fathers and the fathers-to-be were having. Even with his medical background and expertise he found it unbelievable. With ten of them there at the campground that summer, it was information worth repeating. "At least that seems to be the case for babies born as the result of using the suppositories we've received from the Ancient. Since the suppositories and the seeds have the same biological effect, except the effect of the seeds is permanent, we're assuming the same will be true for babies born as a result of their fathers having been seeded. Of course we won't know that for sure for a few years as all the babies we know of that have been born from their fathers being seeded are under six months of age."

"Do we know how long this ability to produce seeds lasts?"

"Not with any certainty. Billy Bob is the oldest of our youngsters who was born as the result of using suppositories, and at four years and eleven months, he's still capable of producing seeds as far as we know."

"And if he intends on producing any more, he's going to let us know, isn't he?" asked Bobby with a smile as he looked down fondly at his little son as the boy reached for another piece of cake. Stuffing half of it into his mouth, the youngster looked up at the hefty truck driver and nodded with a muffled reply, a grin and a happy twinkle in his eyes. His daddies had made a big point of wanting to be told and loving both of them and being an obedient child he would. Of course they hadn't said if he was supposed to tell them before or after he did it, but he didn't suppose that mattered.

"We do know for sure that the ability begins sometime after the age of three for those boys born as a result of the suppositories. Having a modified appendix to support the growth of a baby and an internal W cyst or gonad to produce W chromosome gametes were temporary changes in boys who'd been given suppositories, but based on the examinations I've made last summer and this week those changes appear to be permanent in those boys like Billy, Kevin, Michael and Edward all of whom were seeded by their sons and have born a second child. Since all the children born of suppositories were already born with those biological differences, I think it is a safe conclusion that those babies born as the result of seeding, like your baby Chad, have the same modifications and that they will become functional sometime after the age of six, which I call the age of fecundity, as has been the case in all our boymates.

The similar changes in Kwame's body, the conversion of his appendix to have a similar function as a uterus and the formation of the W gonad, were initiated as soon as Billy Bob's seed was planted up his rectum and were automatically fully functional because he was already six, and from the examinations you and the others allowed me to make yesterday, those changes still appear to be in effect. Again, how long those changes are going to remain functional we don't know. As you can appreciate, this is all relatively new even for us.

If my hypothesis is correct, this ability to produce seeds will continue from the age of three until the boy reaches his spermatic pubescence, the point where his testicles mature and begin producing sperm, which for the present male population can be between the ages of ten and sixteen, and most commonly at the age of thirteen or fourteen, and which I am assuming will also be the case of our children. My logic in making such an assumption, and our marine biologist can confirm if my reasoning is sound," Harold said, looking over at Kyle, "is that it is nature's way of ensuring survival of our new breed of boys. At some time between seminal pubescence at the age of three and spermatic pubescence around the age of twelve, your son can fuck a boy and plant his seed to prepare that boy's body for impregnation. Then, when he reaches spermatic puberty, he can fuck that same boy and impregnate him. Of course in the meantime he can also be preparing other boys to be fucked and impregnated by others who have reached spermatic puberty, thereby propagating this new species of boy."

"That's certainly logical, in a biological sense," agreed Kyle.

Ray and Michael exchanged glances and then looked at one of the new members of their group, the quiet, rotund man who had introduced himself as Gregory and had mixed little with the group and was never seen far from his boymate Joey. The man responded with a slight nod. "And it's not totally theoretical," Ray observed. Everyone turned to look at their campground host. "Several months after Michael gave birth to our second son, Saul, we discovered he was capable of producing seeds, just like our older son Davey can. We figure he probably could from the first time Davey seeded him, but we were focussing on why Michael couldn't get pregnant again and just didn't realize it. Besides, the occasion to seed anyone just hadn't arisen before that."

Bobby and Kyle and Billy and Kevin looked at each other in surprise. They knew when their young sons had fucked Billy and Kevin, both now eleven years and ten months old, that the boys' bodies had been modified so they could get pregnant without the need of suppositories, but they'd had no idea that the changes had also included the ability for them to produce seeds. Tom and Derrick, on the other hand, had not engaged in such activity with their son William, having used suppositories for the birth of their two children. Neither the forty-three-year-old accountant nor his seventeen-year-old boymate had any desire for more children and neither had had any interest in being fucked by their toddler and William hadn't shown any interest in fucking either of them. Anyway, unlike the other boys, Derrick was already fourteen when they'd first met and already producing semen. Nobody noticed, but Harold and Edward, the only other couple with a son capable of seeding, did not look overly surprised at Ray's revelation.

"Two weeks ago as of last Thursday, almost three weeks now, Michael had his first wet orgasm," their campground host announced, causing the twelve-year-old to turn a bright red, "and I might add it was an orgasm like you can't imagine. He came for three minutes solid, in slow motion like some of us can now do, and he had to have shot a pint at least. It caught us by surprise and we were all soaked from head to toe." The twelve-year-old could not turn any redder. The announcement of his first wet orgasm resulted in a general hubbub of conversation and several of the men and older boys congratulating Michael on reaching puberty and having had his first wet orgasm. "However, we suspect since he began squirting, he has lost his ability to produce seeds," Ray continued once the hubbub had died down.

"So, this ability," said Harold, most interested in this new information, "did you actually ever produce a seed?"

Michael glanced over at Gregory and again the man gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Yes," he said, "I seeded Joey."

"Go ahead, you can tell them," Gregory said.

"Well, it was over the Christmas holiday," the twelve-year-old began hesitantly. "Bishop Gregory was-." Realizing he'd inadvertently given away a confidence, he stopped abruptly.

"That's all right," Gregory said. "I knew sooner or later it would come out. Continue."

"Well, ah, as I said, ah, Gregory was here on a retreat with some of the clergy and a youth group from the church, including Joey. I just sortta stayed out of the way, not ever having much to do with religion and stuff, especially, you know, after what happened to my parents." Michael's parents had died in a fiery traffic accident when he was seven and pregnant with his and Ray's first child. The fifty-five-year-old outdoorsman himself was not a deeply religious man and at the time could not disagree that if there really was a God He would not let something like that happen to two good people and leave an innocent child an orphan. "Anyway, I'd gotten up in the middle of the night to nurse Saul and was just about to crawl back into bed when I noticed Joey standing outside staring up at the sky without a coat or anything on, and it was thirty below [below 0°C]. I couldn't believe anyone would be so stupid. He could have frozen to death or been attacked by a cougar or something." He glanced over at Joey with a smile and the boy smiled back sheepishly.

"Well, I threw on my parka and went outside and asked him what the hell he was doing."

"He called me a stupid fuck," Joey said with a slight smile.

Michael glanced at Bishop Gregory with embarrassment. "I did. I was mad at the… stupid fuck," he said with a grin and the others laughed, some uncomfortably. Since the revelation that their fellow camper Gregory was actually Bishop Gregory they'd all been desperately trying to recall what they'd said and done over the past four days, and of course they could not help thinking about the rash of child abuse cases that had been brought to light over the recent years, especially by Catholic priests. "Well, he just said that everything was so beautiful, and it was. There was a full moon and it was a crisp night making the snow sparkle like thousands of little diamonds. The pines were half in shadow and half in moonlight making everything look unreal and there was a pack of coyotes singing to the moon somewhere out in the forest.

"I told him it was beautiful, but he'd better come in the house and warm up. He did and I made him a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows and one for myself. While he was drinking it, he asked me how God could make something so beautiful and yet let such bad, ugly things happen. I'd asked myself that very same question dozens of times when my parents had died, so I didn't have an answer for him and said he should maybe ask his parents or the priests he was with." He glanced at Bishop Gregory and considered his next statement. "He said he had asked the priests, but they just said it wasn't for us to understand why and God had a reason and to have faith, none of which is of any help when you're nine. I know that, cuz I was told the same shit." Several shifted uncomfortably even though they understood his feelings, and some agreed with him. They admired his daring to speak his mind in front of a priest, a bishop nonetheless, and several weren't sure they'd have been able to do the same. Ray made no effort to stop or help him, knowing the boy had to tell his story on his own and in his own way and trusting him to be respectful as well as honest.

"That was when I found out Joey walked funny because he had muscular dystrophy, and that he had diabetes really bad besides, and that he didn't have any parents. He and the other kids were from an orphanage the church ran. Well, I told him how my parents had been killed and he said nobody knew who his father was and that his mother had died of a drug overdose when he was just a baby and that I was lucky to have at least known my parents, though it sucked to then have them die. He asked if Ray was my grandfather," he said, glancing over at Ray and smiling. Joey was only the latest of many who had made that assumption about the rugged, white-haired outdoors man and the good-looking, smooth-cheeked youth. "I told him no, that I'd just come to live with Ray. He said it was sad about my parents but at least I had someone like Ray adopt me and have two little brothers now. Saul was only a week old at the time. Of course I didn't tell him our real relationships, not then, and told him instead someday someone would adopt him. That was when he said nobody wanted to adopt sick kids, and that anyway by the time he was my age he'd probably be in a wheelchair and never be able to play ball or go sledding or anything like that with kid brothers even if he had any. He was really feeling down and said he'd never find anyone who would love him and want to have kids with him, and even if he did, he'd never live long enough to see them grow up. That was when I realized just how lucky I really was," Michael observed, wrapping an arm about Ray and smiling down at Davey, now four years and seven months old, who was entertaining Saul, now seven months old, in his basinet. All the men listening and their boymates were thinking just how lucky they were also as they glanced at each other. There wasn't one of them that didn't feel touched by what they'd heard and didn't feel an urge to go over and wrap their arm about the pale, shy boy.

"I thought too how great it would be if he could have a boylover like I did, and a son to raise, and my heart ached for him. Actually, it was more than my heart. My whole body hurt, and my mind. I'd never felt so desperate to help someone in my life, and I never have since. Really, every muscle in my body ached like I'd been out riding all day and my insides were cramped and I had a bugger of a headache." Remembering he was in the presence of a priest he paused and flushed again. Being home-schooled and living out in the woods with Ray and other outdoorsmen, he'd picked up some of their coarser habits and language. "Anyway, I figured finding a boylover would be next to impossible considering, well, considering everything," he said, glancing at Joey, "and even if I did, I had no idea if he'd be strong enough to have a baby and how long he might live. I knew how I felt losing my parents and I didn't want his son to go through the same thing.

So, I took him back to the big tent they had set up where everybody slept and went back in the house and found Davey was up and looking out the window. He said he'd heard me talking with Joey and he said exactly what I'd been thinking, that Joey needed a boylover and a son. When I said that was going to be difficult, he looked up at me with those big innocent eyes of his and said 'you could love him and fuck him for starters,' those exact words," Michael said, looking down at his oldest son fondly and with a smile, and several others smiled at the toddler's choice of words and as they thought of the innocence and optimism of children and that it was too bad that all people couldn't see things through the eyes of a child.

"The next day they went tobogganing and skiing and Joey was feeling in a much better mood. That evening I took him aside and talked to him, and the more I talked to him the more I wanted to make him feel good, physically, and to find out what sex was like, even if just for that one time, and the more I talked to him the more I wished he could have a son like I did and I got all achy again like the day before except worse. I finally came right out and told him what I was thinking, the about having sex with him part, and he was curious and eager to do it with me. So we went in my bedroom and I helped him get his clothes off and I stripped and, well, we did it. I was real gentle and careful and everything on account of his dystrophy and diabetes and stuff and it was really great, and while we were doing it I kept thinking how great it would be if he could have a baby despite his diseases and everything, and if I should talk to Davey about seeding him and how I wished I could impregnate him myself right then and there.

While I was thinking all this I didn't realize it but I began really fucking him hard and how Ray didn't hear us I don't know," he said with a grin, looking up at his lover. "I was hot as hell and my cock was aching and throbbing like mad like it does when you get close to the end," he continued, getting caught up in his memory and forgetting about Bishop Gregory. "Joey was laying on his back twisting and wiggling and whacking off like crazy and so liking it, it being his first time and all. It was really hot, and when we came to the end and I knew I was going to climax any second I was thinking so hard how I wished I could seed him so he could have a baby and how wonderful that would be. I suddenly felt this weird feeling in my nuts like I've never felt before, and then as if something was going up my cock, something small and hard, like a pea or something, and then it felt like it shot out the tip of my dick. I was feeling all dizzy at the time and my thighs had gone weak and rubbery like when you haven't been exercising and go for too steep a climb or something and I wasn't sure if I had actually shot something out my dick or if it was my imagination. I figured maybe I'd finally spurted, but it didn't feel wet like when Ray comes, and it was just once and over so fast. When I finally pulled my dick out of his ass I couldn't see any cum so I figured it had all been my imagination. But, as it turned out, it wasn't," he said with a grin. "Of course none of us knew that, except for Davey. I don't know how he knew, but the very next day he talked to Joey and told him I'd planted a seed up his bum, and that if he had sex the same way with someone old enough to squirt, he could have a baby. And," Michael concluded with a grin as he looked over at Joey, "and in another six weeks he's going to."

Everyone looked at Joey, and at Bishop Gregory. "And I'm assuming you are the father to be," Harold finally said.

"Yes, indeed, I am," Gregory said, "and I know what all of you are thinking. I'd be thinking the same thing given the circumstances. Let me say right off that everything Phil said down on the patio the second afternoon we were here about how wrong it is for people in authority to misuse their position to take advantage of children I totally agree with, and I'm just as incensed when I read about such abuses as he is, including and especially abuses of boys by the clergy. Let me also say that I've never had sex with a boy before Joseph and never at any time ever had the temptation of wanting to do so. Until Joseph, I found the very thought of sex with a child repugnant, and especially between a priest and a boy. In fact even though I accepted that we should condemn homosexuality but not the homosexual as is the teaching of our Holy Father and the Catholic Church, I could not help thinking of homosexuals as sinners nor stop my skin from crawling with the mere thought of a man having sex with another man. I know how difficult that is to believe given the history of the church and my own personal circumstances, and that was one reason I'd asked Ray and Michael not to reveal my title or profession and why I simply introduced myself as Gregory when we first met. In fact suspecting how many of you would likely react, I was not going to come here and came not because of Ray's persistence and assurance that I would find it unctuous, but because it was Joseph's wish to do so."

Bobby could understand that as he thought back to how he'd tried to derail their plans to come to the campground the first time and how it had only been out of his love for Billy and because he knew how disappointed Billy was that he'd reversed his decision and agreed to come. The burly forty-five-year-old trucker was certainly glad now that he had, and he knew that Bishop Gregory would come to feel the same way, if he hadn't already. There were others in the group besides Bobby who could also relate to what the bishop had said about his reluctance, having felt the same hesitation themselves, and they could all appreciate how it had to have been particularly difficult for him. Many had been immediately suspicious about his relationship with his boy companion the moment they'd learned he was a priest, and many still had those suspicions despite his claim to have come out of his love for the boy.

"After four days here, and after hearing Phil's comments about how he felt about child abuse and molestation the other day and hearing some of you relate your experiences, I talked to Ray and Michael told them that it would be all right to reveal how Joey had come to be able to have a child, though I had hoped to keep my title out of it," he said with a smile as he glanced at Michael. As the boy opened his mouth, the priest shook his head and motioned for him to keep quiet. "There is no need to apologize. It was a foolish and unreasonable expectation on my part. The truth would have certainly come out sooner or later over these three weeks, and best that it has been sooner for all of us." To that everyone agreed. They were worried enough about what they'd said these past four days as it was, and would have been even more worried if they'd discovered the secret a week or worse yet two weeks later. "I talked to Joseph beforehand of course, and he said he had no concerns about you hearing his story. In fact he was quite eager for you to hear it, and we agreed when the time came, it would probably be best if he shared it with you himself." He smiled at the pale, now nervous, nine-year-old boy and nodded.

"Well," Joey said softly and self-consciously, reaching over and holding his lover's hand, "when Davey told me about planting seeds and having a baby, I thought he was full of crap." Several of the men chuckled at the comment, and at the nine-year-old's choice of words. "I did like what me and Michael did though, and I wanted to do it some more. I was curious what it might be like doing it with someone older who could squirt, and what it might be like to do it with an adult, like Michael said he and Ray did. I thought about the teenagers at the orphanage, but I didn't really like any of them much and I didn't see it being much fun doing it with them, and I sure didn't want any of them to be the father of my baby. I thought about teenagers I know from church, but every one I knew would think guys who did that sort of stuff were perverts and would go straight to hell. I sometimes thought the same, sometimes during mass when I thought about what me and Michael had done, or when I played with myself at night and tried to be real quiet and slow so nobody would notice, but then I figured that couldn't be any worse than the hell I was in right now."

He glanced down at the empty paper plate as he gathered his thoughts and there wasn't a man there that didn't feel for him. "I thought about the priests I know and the workers at the orphanage too, but I felt the same way about them as I did about the teenagers at the orphanage. Davey said I'd know when I found the right man, and that I shouldn't be in a hurry cuz it was important and I had to be sure, but I'd really liked how Michael had made me feel and I wanted to do it again, and especially, I wanted to find someone who really loved me and not just because it was their job." He again glanced at the priest before continuing. He had said to be truthful, and the truth was almost every adult he knew, even those who really did care, still considered it a job.

"Then one day at church I thought about Bishop Gregory and I knew right away he was the one. I never thought of him before on account we don't see him often at the orphanage and besides he was a bishop and all and I figured would never have sex with a kid, not in a hundred million years. The idea kept popping back in my head even though I figured it was stupid and impossible, and the more I thought about it the surer I was that he was the one. Davey said that I'd know, so I started hinting and stuff like Davey had said to do but he didn't notice." He looked up at his lover with a shy smile.

"It was impossible for me not to notice, of course, but I chose not to say or do anything. I was afraid any attempt at direct intervention on my part would be misinterpreted. Just like Phil mentioned having to be particularly careful and having rules to follow in his job or one in his position could be falsely accused of something when his only fault was caring, the same is true in my occupation. And I had another fear, that I might fall into the same temptation too many of my colleagues have fallen into. Same gender sex and love were a total mystery to me, as was intergenerational sex, and it frightened me. Although members of the clergy are supposed to be of higher moral fibre than the average man, we all know they are still human and have weaknesses and faults like any other man. Besides, I did know of Joseph's medical and adoption history and did feel a desperate need to help him and give him some positive encouragement. The last thing he needed in his life was a fifty-year-old man reprimanding him and telling him the things he was doing were inappropriate. Finally though he began touching himself and coming onto me during services and it was too blatantly obvious. I had to do something to put an end to it before others noticed, not for my sake but for his. Of course, what I ended up doing to put an end to it was certainly not something I had intended!" he observed with a smile. He nodded to Joey to continue.

"Yeah, I was obvious, but I was desperate. Michael planted the seed in me in December and I decided on Bishop Gregory in February and it was April and he was still doing nothing," Joey explained with all the impatience of a nine-year-old. "So, during mass on Easter Sunday when I was singing in the choir I made a point of rubbing myself whenever Bishop Gregory looked at me, and while I was helping at the altar I rubbed up against him, or touched his leg with my hand."

"During mass, on Easter Sunday?" Thaddeus, a staunch Catholic, asked in surprise, and Joey nodded with a shy grin.

"Jesus is not the only one to have risen on Easter Sunday," Gregory observed quietly with a grin and several chuckled. Others looked surprised, and a few shocked. "Come now, even bishops are allowed some off-colour, socially-incorrect humour," he said with a wider grin and several more chuckled. "Go on with your story, Joey."

"Well, right after services before I could change or anything Gregory called me into his office. I was sure it had to be because he'd finally noticed and it was because he was feeling the same way as I was about making a baby, and I was all excited. We talked, about how all boys go through a stage of sexual curiosity and exploration, how touching myself was inappropriate, and how as good Christians we had to control our urges, and about God and good and evil and why He let my mother die and let people have things like muscular dystrophy and diabetes, and about couples wanting to adopt babies or young kids and if they did adopt older kids how they didn't want any problem kids, like me, and about having muscular dystrophy and how mine had been getting worse, and about Michael planting a seed up my rump and what Davey had said about making babies," Joey explained, finally stopping to take a breath.

"His muscular dystrophy was getting worse," Gregory said. "It had been progressing much faster ever since December. Whether it was because Joey had caught a chill during the retreat, because of his sexual experience at that time and the strain it had been on his body and his mind and his spirit, or because of the stresses and disappointments he was feeling about not being adopted and my not responding to his advances, I didn't know at the time and I blamed each one in its turn and them all. I could not truthfully imagine what was going on in his head nor what it must have been like for him, knowing he was sick and getting worse, knowing his chances of being adopted were next to zero, and frustrated over his attempts to attract me as a sexual partner. Even though his behaviour the past two months had been inappropriate, I could understand the reasons behind it, and even though what he was expecting of me was illegal and the most grievous sin a priest can commit, I could not help weighing the pros and cons and seriously considering it as he sat there looking at me so desperately and so bleakly, not out of pity or priestly compassion, but out of Christian love for the boy. I knew of his heartbreak each time a child in the orphanage was adopted and each time someone came to inquire about adoption but never once considered him. I knew the high mortality rate for his form of dystrophy and that he knew also, and how frightening that had to be. I wanted so badly to bring him a little happiness in what years he had left. I wanted it badly enough to seriously consider doing what he wanted me to do, especially after recalling having seen the moment of joy in his face and the spring in his step back in December and now knowing why. But, I'm getting carried away. It is Joey's story." From his voice and the look in his eyes, there was no doubt in anyone's mind of the love the priest had for the boy. His words concerning the nine-year-old boy's condition and future were cruelly blunt, but to pretend they did not exist or to give the boy false hope was even more cruel and they all knew it.

"Well, like I said, we talked, a lot. Gregory said sex was very special and just for men and women who were married and then just for making babies, and besides two males could not make a baby, but I could tell he was wanting to do it. Like Davey had told me, it was something a guy knows, and a guy knows too if the other person just wants to do it for himself or if he wants to do it for you or both of you. It is something you feel in your heart, and in your guts, and actually, mostly in your rectum," he explained, speaking with the honest of a nine-year-old not yet dulled with age. "At least that's where I felt it. I can't explain it. I just know the more we talked the more I knew he wanted to do it, and the more I knew he wanted to do it the more I ached for him, my heart, my asshole, my nuts, all over, just like Michael had said he'd ached for me, and the more I ached the more I wished he'd do it with me. I really concentrated on it and wished for it as hard as I could, almost prayed for it to happen, though I didn't. I didn't think God would answer a prayer like that," Joey said with another shy smile at his lover.

"But He did," observed Klaus, Thaddeus's eight-year-old boymate who was just as devoutly Catholic as his lover was, and in fact was likely just as firm a believer as Bishop Gregory was. Last summer the boy had revealed to everyone, including his lover for the first time, that God had appeared to him in a vision, in the form of the Gargoyle of Male Fecundity, and had told him his parents were in heaven and he would find happiness again if he gave Thaddeus a son as God had given the world His son, and that he, Klaus, would some day be one of His Disciples. A year had passed and the boy had not wavered in his belief.

"Yes," Joey said with a bright smile, "He did. We did it. Right there in the office. As Gregory got up out of his chair and came around to me I could see in his eyes how much he wanted to do it. So did I, but I knew instead he was just going to give me a hug or something and tell me to go think about what we'd talked about, so I pulled up my choir robe and pushed down my pants and underwear and bent over and offered him my bum right then and there. I really surprised him," Joey said, a twinkle in his eyes.

"He certainly did that. I was intending on doing just what he'd surmised I was going to do and suddenly there he was exposing his backside and offering it to me. I hesitated for a moment with the shock of it, and then made a snap decision, which is very uncharacteristic of me. Call it Devine Intervention, raging hormones and thirty-five years of repressed carnal desire, the Gargoyle of Male Fecundity, whatever, but I did what I never imagined in my life I'd ever do."

"He came around behind me and pulled up his robes, his chasuble and alb and his cassock, which he was still wearing from Easter Sunday mass, and pushed down his trousers and underwear too, and his penis was hard and sticking up all ready to do it. We did it like in one of the pictures I'd found on the Internet when I was trying to find ways to get him to do it with me. I grabbed hold of his desk and stuck my bum out, and he stood behind me and grabbed my hips and when I felt the tip of his penis pressing against my butthole I pushed my stomach out to open it up just like Michael had told me to do when we'd done it. I couldn't see it but I could feel it was huge, way huger than Michael's, and I thought it might hurt, but it didn't, not much anyway. It was wicked feeling his bulb stretching open my hole wider and wider and then popping inside and going in deeper and deeper up my butt. Like I said it was huger than Michael's, fatter and longer, and it felt like I had a big cucumber stuck up my butt," he said with a grin. "And then he started to pump it in and out of me, slow at first, but going faster, like Michael had done, and it was so awesome, even better than with Michael.

It was good with Michael," he quickly added, glancing over at the twelve-year-old and fearing he might have offended him, "really good. It was the first time I'd had anyone do it to me and it was really strange and exciting and stuff, and the way my bumhole itched and my dink got hard and itchy really felt good, and it was the first time I had an orgasm and stuff which was so wicked, so it was real good and everything, but with Gregory it was a different kind of good," he said, desperately trying to explain and trying so hard to make up for any offense. "It was really hot and exciting with Gregory too but different. Gregory's penis was so huge and I could feel it throbbing deep inside me and my rectum was throbbing too, in time with his cock, and my asshole was burning like it was on fire. I wished it could last forever."

There wasn't a man or boy who was not picturing the two of them in the bishop's office, the meek nine-year-old boy bent over his desk with his wide-sleeved surplice hiked up about his waist and his trousers and underwear at his ankles to reveal his compact, pink ass, and the fifty-year-old priest in his voluminous and ornate robes hiked up as he madly humped the boy's tight rump, his own trousers and underwear about his feet.

"Course when he spurted his stuff up my asshole that was really different. Instead of just one shot he squirted and squirted over and over and I could feel it shooting way up my rectum, hot and wet, and then I came too just from getting my ass fucked. I hadn't even been touching myself. I jerked and twisted so hard I don't know how his dick stayed in me! It was so good we did it twice in a row, but the second time we did it naked and with the door locked, and we kissed and stuff first, and we did it a lot slower, except at the end, and Gregory played with my dick while he fucked me. We've been doing it every day since, sometimes three or four times a day," he said happily. It was Gregory's turn to turn a deep red.

"It's probably not evident to anyone else, but pregnancy has been good for Joey," Harold advised. "I know Gregory said the reason he decided to come here was because Joey had wanted to, but I also know another reason was because Ray told him I'd be here, and that I was a doctor. The form of dystrophy Joey has is Duchenne, one of the more severe forms that is found only in boys, and begins early in life, usually before the age of five. Well, of course Gregory contacted me beforehand and sent me Joey's medical records and blood samples, and I've examined Joey thoroughly these last couple days, having accessed the lab and equipment at the local hospital. While he does have some spinal deformity and degeneration of the muscles of the trunk and pelvis, which is natural at his age, and as I've told him and Gregory is cause for caution as he gains weight these last six weeks, to my amazement the wasting of the skeletal muscles of his arms and legs and upper chest seem to be reversing, which is totally unheard of. Remissions simply do not occur in the form of dystrophy he has, and there has never been a record of damaged muscles actually repairing themselves. And being told he has diabetes also, I was particularly concerned about his kidneys and heart and the stress that pregnancy is going to put on them. As the boys here in the final stages of pregnancy well know, when you're pregnant you're pissing like a race horse and your heart is throbbing faster and harder than your lover's hardon." The four rotund boys with the protruding stomachs all giggled and nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm happy to report I can find absolutely no sign of diabetes and that Joey's heart and kidneys are as strong as those of any healthy nine-year-old boy, and there's no reason to think they are not going to be for the next six weeks. And," he added, "since the Duchenne form of this disease is carried on the X chromosome, and since his son doesn't have such a thing, he is going to be a perfectly healthy little boy."

That was certainly happy news for everyone as was the clarification of the relationship between the churchman and the boy. This was not a case of misuse of one's position of authority or the abuse of an altar boy by some degenerate, self-serving, hypocrite priest. One could easily see that from the love in the boy's eyes; and from the way he'd told his version of the story it was clear it had not been a recitation of something his lover had told him to say. It was just as clear to those gathered at the picnic shelter that the priest had been sincere when he'd said he had acted out of love for the boy, not out of pity or sympathy. Their story and the revelation about the boy's health also explained why the two had been keeping apart from the others and had completely disappeared at time, and why the priest had seemed so protective of the boy.

"If you only had the opportunity to seed once, you certainly made quality use of the one seed you did produce," Harold said, looking at the handsome, muscular twelve year old who had been particularly worried about Joey's health and the effect of being pregnant was going to have on it. "Not only did it result in him finding him a lover and getting pregnant, but it seems to have cured his illnesses as well!" Nobody could be happier than the beaming, twelve-year-old boy, and nobody prouder than his beaming lover.

"So then, this TSP is released voluntarily?" Tim asked, looking at Harold and then at Michael.

"Yes, seminal pubescence, that developmental stage that marks the appearance of sexual awareness and the ability of the toddler's testicles to produce the Tripartite Stimulus Packet, or seed, appears to begin at age three, which accounts for the increase in the size of the balls at that age, and the release of the seed appears to be totally voluntary, just like by then a toddler has learned to control the emptying of his bladder, or so those who have experienced it tell us," the sixty-one-year-old doctor said, glancing around at those whose sons had reached the ability to produce seeds and at the older boys in the group, and in particular Michael and Edward. "Some men who have been trained in the far east art of bodily control and meditation can actually hold back their ejaculations through the power of their minds, so it is not an impossibility that the release of the TSP can be mentally controlled."

"Well, I can't control my ejaculations, or erections for that matter," Michael said with a crack in his voice and a flush, eliciting a chuckle from the men in the group who all recalled the embarrassing and uncontrollable erections when they'd reached puberty, and the just as spontaneous ejaculations and even more embarrassing wet dreams when their balls took control. "And I've only seeded once, but that one time I was really thinking hard about it and wishing I could do it and that's when it happened. I've screwed dozens of times since Davey seeded me and nothing ever happened, and in all those times I never tried to do it or wanted to, though I did want to and try to cum," he admitted with another blush. "And then last week there was a group here from the Yukon including a boy and a trapper who had the hots for each other and I could tell were meant for each and to have a baby. I tried to seed the boy, several times, but no matter how hard I tried nothing came out, not even cum, though I squirted easily whenever I had sex with Ray and Davey. Davey ended up seeding him instead."

"We're thinking one's balls can produce seeds or semen but not both. So now that Michael can cum he can no longer seed," explained Ray.

"When Charles seeded me just over a year ago, a month before our camping holiday last year, we had no idea at the time that it would allow me to become pregnant a second time," observed Edward, "and we certainly didn't know it would result in me being able to make seeds too."

"I think perhaps some of the men here would be interested in hearing about the first time Charles screwed your arse," suggested Harold, "especially those who haven't yet had the experience of being fucked by their sons."

There wasn't a man among them, or boy for that matter, who wasn't interested in hearing the story, including the few who'd had the experience of being screwed by their precocious toddlers.

"Well, Harold and I sleep in the same bed and Charles has his own bed and bedroom, and so does James now," Edward began, referring to their nine-month-old baby, "except sometimes Charles sleeps with us, like when it's not a school night and the three of us, you know, have sex and cuddle later and he falls asleep, or sometimes when Harold has the night shift at the hospital and it's just me and Charles at home. Him and I don't always have sex, but we usually do," he admitted with a grin. "You know, the usual stuff, wanking each other or sixty-nining and rimming. Charles would suck cock and be rimmed all night if he could, and I'd rim him all night if I could. His bum is so smooth and soft, and it isn't hairy like Harold's arse-though I like to rim Harold too," he quickly added. It was Harold's turn to begin to blush. Several of the men shifted uncomfortably as their dicks perked up with the thought of the good-looking, smooth-cheeked preteen rimming his sixty-one-year-old partner, and his little preschool son.

"Anyway, one night last year when Harold was working, Charles crawled into bed with me, and since I didn't have school the next day, we sortta began messing around with each other, you know, fiddling with each other's dick and kissing and caressing and stuff. I pressed my lips against his belly and puffed and made blubbering noises, you know, like you do to a baby, and Charles giggled and squirmed on his back and tried to get away. Of course I continued on to his dick and his balls, and then had him throw his legs up over his head and I did the same to his arse and finally began to rim him until my tongue got tired. As I laid back, Charles climbed on top of me, facing the other direction so his arse was in my face, and started to do the same to me, blowing on my belly and making blubbering noises, and then moving down and taking my dick, which of course had a boner by then, and trying to do the same to my knob and then my nuts." Edward, now a month away from his eleventh birthday, had, like most of the boys, exceptionally large nuts and more of the men shifted with arousal as they imagined the little cherub, who would have been only a few months past his third birthday then, playing kissy with the smooth, hairless nuts of the doe-eyed, blond-haired preteen who would have been a little more than nine and a half.

"Of course he wanted to do the same as I had and tried to raise up my rump and I teased him by pretending I didn't know and pressing my arse down on the mattress for a bit before raising up my hips and swinging my legs over my head. Charles likes to rim as much as he likes to be rimmed, and he does a great job," Edward said, glancing down proudly at the little tyke sitting beside him and the boy happily smiled back up at him, his lips and cheeks smeared with icing, cake and ice cream and several men dropped their hands to their laps to cover now prominent erections.

"Well, he sucked and licked my arsehole and wormed his little tongue inside, eating my arse out just as eagerly as he's stuffing himself with that cake," Edward observed, and a few more men dropped their hands to their laps. "He finally stopped and I was about to lower my legs when the little guy knelt behind me and grabbed my thighs and I felt something poking my arse. I would have thought he was goosing me 'cept he was grasping my legs with both hands. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he replied 'I think I'm going to fuck your arse.' Well, I was horny as a goose from our messing around and his rimming, and I figured, why the bloody hell not. He'd seen Harold plowing my arse plenty of times, and we both had been finger fucking him for months. He was way too young yet for his arse to take our peckers, but I couldn't see that there'd be any harm in letting him try doing me." There wasn't a single person who wasn't feeling aroused by then and the effect Edward's story was having was evident from the tenting out of shorts and swimsuits and the wagging boners of those who'd chosen to attend the birthday party naked, which was almost all the youngsters and a good quarter of the men.

"So, he stuck his little pecker up my arsehole. It wasn't any longer or thicker than my little finger so course he couldn't penetrate very deep. I clenched my arsehole shut and he started to fuck, pumping his hips to and fro in short little thrusts to work his little dicky in and out of my hole as he stared down at my stiff cock with his tongue slipped out the corner of his mouth like it always does when he's concentrating. His dicky was small but it felt great having it sliding in and out of my hole, way different from being fucked by Harold's big banger, but good in a different way. And that my own little three-year-old son was fucking me was really hot. He did it irregularly, fast and then slow and then fast again and then super slow and super fast, really changing the tempo, which was really cool. I tried to copy doing it that way a few times doing Harold but I can't do it, not like he does it.

Anyway, while he was fucking me I reached up and began to wank and he grinned down at me between my legs. Course we both started feeling twitchy in no time and my bone went numb and I could feel the ache starting in the pit of my stomach, and I could tell by the look on his face that Charles was getting all twitchy too. I came first and started to buck and squirm and Charles had to hold on tight to keep his little dick up my arse, and then he started to twitch all over and I knew he was like having his orgasm too and that his little dicky was itching and throbbing just like mine." So were the dicks of many of those listening, some of them oozing with droplets of pre-cum.

"It was bloody fucking awesome. We did it again that night, and we've been doing it ever since, whenever we both feel like doing it that way. It feels good, and we like to make each other feel good, so what's the harm?" he asked with a shrug.

"So, was that first time he did you the time he seeded you?" asked Calvin. His and Jimmy's sons were just two years and four months old but by next year's summer holiday they'd be of age to be seeding others. Many of the other men, especially those with sons around the same age were thinking the same as Calvin and curious about the seeding process as well.

"No. We'd been doing it for a couple months before that happened. It was a year ago last month, a month before the last time we met here. I was sitting at my desk doing my homework and Charles was sitting at his little table beside me looking at his picture books and pretending he was doing homework too when he looked up at me and asked if me and Harold wanted to have another baby. Well, me and Harold had been talking about the holiday we'd been planning to the United States, about us seeing Disneyland and Harold talking to his doctor friend in Los Angeles about some of his theories about the suppositories and stuff, and especially about meeting others who according to Emails Harold had exchanged with Ray had the experience of making a baby like we had. And we had talked about how great it was that we'd been so fortunate for Harold to have been visited by the strange Chinese guy, and not just because he'd given Harold herbs that had probably saved my life, and how it was too bad we didn't know how to contact him again and maybe make a brother for Charles. So Charles' question wasn't totally out of the blue. He had to have heard that part of our conversation anyway.

So, I asked him if he'd like to have a little brother and he shrugged and said sure and asked if he could have a pony too and promised to share it with his brother." Several of the men chuckled. "I told him I used to have an older brother that I enjoyed doing stuff with, and that Harold and I loved him very much and would like to have another baby so he'd have a brother to play with, but I couldn't promise him a pony though I was sure Harold and me could take them out to the country on weekends to see the ponies and maybe go for pony rides. He just looked up at me and said, 'Okay. Let's go fuck.' I thought it was too bad everyone can't be as accepting and trusting as little kids can. Anyway, I was doing maths, which is totally boring," he added with a quick glance at Harold, making his point and getting a reproving look back, "and figured I deserved a break." A lot of the men thought it was too bad everyone couldn't see having sex as being a break like kids can, at least kids like Edward. "So, we went in the bedroom and he fucked me, like he'd done dozens of times, but this time, when we had our orgasms, I thought for sure I felt something shoot up my arse, like Michael said, like a pea or something. Course it was impossible to tell and like Michael said it gets wicked wild when you're having an orgasm, so Harold and me just figured it was my imagination just like Michael had. And of course we know now that the little tyke did shoot something up my arse. It was just that one time, and later when we found out I was pregnant and we asked him about it, he just said he knew we wanted a baby so fixed it so we could."

"Charles was three years and five months old, and Edward nine years and ten months at the time," explained Harold. "When we asked what he meant by fixed it, he said he put a fixer up Edward's bum, and when I asked how he did that he just said he fucked him and gave me this look like I was stupid or something," Harold said with a chuckle. "When I pointed out he'd never put a fixer up his bum before, he replied he never thought it before. And when I asked how he knew putting a fixer up Edward's bum would fix it so he could have a baby, he said that's what a fixer is for. It was like trying to nail jelly to the wall," chuckled Harold again. "He evidently just thought it and it happened."

"That's like Billy Bob," Bobby observed. "According to Billy Bob, when I asked him how he did it he replied that he 'thunked it'."

"When we found out Korby's ability, we asked him how he did it too, and he said he just told his nuts to do it and they did. We couldn't get anything more out of him than that," observed Kyle.

"I suspect that's because it's not easy to explain how it happens," observed Edward, "especially when you're just three or four. I really can't explain how I do it any better."

"So, you've produced seeds too?" asked Calvin.

"Yeah. Just once, like Michael."

"It was my grandson Dylan," observed Owain Gryffyd in a heavy Welsh accent as he put his gnarled hand on the boy's shoulder. Everyone turned their attention to the two of them and their two and a half month old son Llewellyn currently cradled in the older man's arms. They were new to the campground that summer.

"For which we will be forever grateful," observed the six-year-old boy with his lilting Welsh accent that alone sent a quiver of desire up the crotch of every boylover there.

"I was attending a presentation at the Welsh National School of Medicine at Cardiff and had taken Edward along with me, figuring we'd make it a weekend holiday and take in a few of the sights," explained Harold. "That was last November and it turned out to be a cold, blustery day so I dropped Edward off at the National Museum of Wales while I attended the presentation."

"Visiting museums isn't exactly my idea of a fun way to spend a morning, especially a Saturday morning," Edward observed with a typical schoolboy candidness and smile, and glancing at Dylan he added with a sparkle in his eyes, "but I found a way to make it fun."

"I'd rather have been home playing video games or out sailing with my dad, but it was too stormy to go sailing and my mom insisted. As it turned out, it was the best thing she ever made me do," the boy said with an impish grin.

"I found Dylan in the marine history section of the museum," continued Edward. "He was staring at one of the paintings but I could tell he wasn't really seeing it. And you didn't need any special abilities," he said, looking at his sons Charles and James, "to tell he was sad, and if there's anything I can't stand to see, it's a sad boy." Everyone there could empathize with that.

"Dad had told me we wouldn't be spending Christmas with my grandpa in the mountains the week before and I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"I'm a boylover," the sixty-seven-year-old Welshman explained, "and have been all my life. When I was young we had a big family, as did everyone. At ten I didn't mind looking after my younger brothers or the neighbours' children, and I'd rather do so than be with friends my own age, which people found strange but nobody complained. It freed up the men and especially the women to do their chores, which back in those days you did by hand and it took a lot of time. Later, when I discovered sex, I was more comfortable exploring with my young charges than I was with girls or fellow teenage boys, and my young companions didn't mind. Later, when I got married, sex with my wife was a duty, but with young boys was a pleasure, and one I could not give up. I had six girls and one son, Dylan's father, and I loved them all dearly and equally. Even though I never did anything with him nor any of his friends or schoolmates and was careful not to do anything that might possibly be interpreted as having a sexual interest in them, my son sensed my like for boys. Children are not as stupid as adults like to think. Then he discovered my collection of Young Male Naturalist magazines, a European nudist magazine focussing on teens and preteens, and some Dutch magazines of young boys engaging in sex with each other even though I was particularly careful to keep them hidden in the back of the top shelf behind several heavy boxes in the tool shed, and one day I found him in the tool shed looking at one of them and masturbating. He was nine.

We talked, about the magazines, about masturbation, and about me and why I collected the magazines, and then we made love, hot and passionate, but gentle and caring too. It was the second happiest day of my life, the happiest being the day he'd been born. Well, we had sex off and on throughout his preadolescent and teenage years, sometimes every day for a week, sometimes not for an entire month or two, just whenever the mood struck both of us. Then he went off to university, got a job, got married, and had children of his own, three girls and a boy, Dylan. He confided in me much later in life that in his teen and university years he'd experimented with a few others, a few of his buddies, a younger cousin, the kid brother of one of his close friends, and a couple early teen street boys peddling themselves for money, and though they'd all been enjoyable experiences, they weren't comparable to the sex we had and he just didn't feel the same boy lust as I did. Now that he was married he'd put that part of his life behind him.

A year and a half ago my wife caught me with a fourteen-year-old boy from the village and my life and the life of my family was turned upside down. She demanded to know how long I'd been seeing the boy and how many other boys I was engaging in such filth with and how many boys I'd molested in the past, but when I tried to tell her we'd been having sex for four years and that lately there was one other boy of nine that sometimes joined us, and that it wasn't filth, and that there had been dozens of boys in the past, none of which felt I'd molested them, she refused to listen. She moved out of course and though we haven't officially divorced, we might as well be as she'll never come back. She said nothing to the boy's parents or the authorities, out of concern for the shame it would bring her and our children, not because of any concern for me, and because she knows what a financial burden a court case would be even if I pleaded guilty and waived my right to a trial, which I'd do to spare the two boys, not to mention what would happen to our savings if I were sued, which the parents would most likely do even though the two boys were perfectly willing.

Of course she's told our girls and she, they, or their husbands have all questioned my grandsons to ensure I hadn't touched them, which I haven't, mostly because I've had no desire to do so, and yes, because I knew the risks that would be involved and the damage it might cause if I did and it was found out, just like I'd never touched any of my son's young friends when he'd been growing up. Of course she asked my son if I'd ever molested him, and in that he's never felt what we'd done was molestation, he told her quite honestly that I had not. He refused to let her grill Dylan as he'd heard she or his sisters or their husbands had done to their children, knowing that I'd never touch the boy and knowing how twisted and filthy she'd make it sound, but once his wife found out she grilled Dylan for her. Of course at which time I'd never done anything with the boy and he was able to tell her honestly that I had not.

Not content with that, my wife contacted all my brothers and sisters and her own and "warned" them and the inquisition was extended to all my nephews. The upshot of it all was that I was suddenly an outcast in my family. Other than my son and my second youngest daughter, Gwen, my children have refused to talk to me and have forbidden me to see or even talk to my grandchildren. Similarly my wife's family has told me I'm no longer welcome in their homes and to stay away from my nephews despite the fact I've never approached a single one of them and never would despite the temptations. My brothers and sisters have by and large done the same, and those few who are still talking to me are cold and clearly uncomfortable and never visit me with their children. I'm watched every second I'm at their home, and my nephews are all conveniently not present so I seldom bother to visit them anymore. They might as well have exiled me too.

Although she doesn't understand nor approve, Gwen, bless her soul, is sympathetic and trusts me and has told her husband so, and because of that love and trust I'd never put her or her sons in an awkward position and so have made certain I'm never out of her or his sight whenever I visit her or they come to see me. As for my son, his wife has made it quite clear he could do what he wanted but I'm not welcome in their home and am to have no contact with Dylan, their only son, whatsoever. He disagreed, but threatened with a divorce and separation from his son, he had no recourse but to comply with her wishes. The reaction of my brothers and sisters I can understand, even of those brothers who quite happily and eagerly experimented with sex along with me when we were boys, though I admit I'm hurt by their lack of support or any indication they care. I'm even more hurt by the attitude of my other daughters, but most of all I regret the consequences, not of my actions but of my wife's, for my grandchildren and my nieces and nephews. I hadn't touched a single one of them, boy or girl, and never would have. We used to enjoy getting together as a family, Christmases and Easter, birthdays and anniversaries, having the grandkids and nieces and nephews stay with us for summer vacations. Now it is all over. All because of a love this society today condemns and refuses to try to understand."

His voice was filled with sorrow and bitterness and anger, and there wasn't a man there who did not understand and empathize with him. Thirty-five-year-old Ted Marple, Billy's uncle on his mother's side, knew what his wife's reaction would be should she find out he was having sex with their seven-year-old son Taylor, which would have ramifications not just for their little baby Jacob but for his nephew Billy also. Nat Griffin knew what the reaction of his sister and her husband would be if they discovered he was having sex with their son. Five of the others had unsuspecting wives and knew the consequences would be the same for themselves as it had been for Owain should their love for boys be found out. Even those men who were single or were divorced or widowed had brothers or sisters or parents or close friends and colleagues, and they knew what the reaction of those they loved would be and what a disruption there would be in their lives should it be discovered they were boylovers. And all twenty-three of them feared more than anything else what the consequences would be for their beloved boymates. The revelation they were having sex with men and to be ripped away from their lovers would be just as hurtful for those who had mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters as it would be for those boys who had no living relatives or anyone who cared about them. Even the young boys and the toddlers seemed to sense Owain's depression and the change in the mood of the adults.

"Well, it's not totally over. You still have your daughter Gwen and your son, and your grandson and a new son, and a bunch of new friends, and a whole new and exciting life ahead of you," offered Ray, not just trying to cheer Owain up but sincerely believing that a happy and positive future was possible for him, and for all of them.

"You're right," Owain replied, forcing a smile. "And from what I've been hearing these past four days, a very different and rewarding life. Thanks again to young Edward here."

"I'm just glad I was able to help, both of you," the ten-year-old going on eleven replied with a smile.

"So, you were telling us about being able to make seeds. Just what did happen after you found Dylan in the museum?" asked Jimmy, slipping an arm about his beloved. Calvin, knowing how his lover was feeling, slipped his arm around Jimmy's shoulders and drew him close. Jimmy had been discovered by his mother messing around with a five-year-old when he was fourteen. His parents already had a rocky marriage and it was the final straw that resulted in their divorce. His mother wanted nothing to do with him and so he stayed with his alcoholic father who subsequently remarried a woman with a nine-year-old son who with his blue-green eyes and long golden-brown hair was like dangling a goldfish in front of a hungry cat. So, he knew from personal experience the type of hurt and anger that results when it's discovered one is a boylover. As a result Jimmy had temporarily turned to drugs, until he and Calvin had inadvertently impregnated each other, at which point things began to turn around. His stepbrother, Aaron, who turned out to be a man lover and pregnant also and who hated both his stepdad and his alcoholic mother moved in with him and Calvin. Now eighteen, Jimmy had just graduated from high school and was entering university on a football scholarship and was thinking of becoming a professional athlete. What would happen if it was discovered now that he was gay, had two sons two years and four months old, one he fathered and one he'd given birth to, and was turned on by preteen boys filled him with fear.

"Well of course I went over to talk to him. We started with the painting he was looking at, and marine history, and about how he was sad about not being able to see his grandfather at Christmas and upset because he didn't know why. From what he told me about the comments his mother had made and the questions she'd asked and the snippets of conversation he'd overheard between his parents and between his mother and others on the phone-little pitchers do have big ears, though I've never understood how that saying has come to mean what it does-I was able to piece together why, though not all the details.

I was bloody angry, and upset too, and I felt an ache deep inside me for Dylan like I've never felt for any other person. It was just like Michael described. I guess it's because that's what we're like and we know how awesome boylove can be and how good, and I think maybe it's a result of being seeded or something besides," he said, looking at Harold and getting a nod of agreement. "So, I told him about boylove and sex between men and boys and how people thought it was so wrong, especially between relatives. He replied that he thought that was dumb and that love was love and shouldn't just be for certain people, and sex between relatives should be especially good because relatives are closer than anything, and that if he had the chance he'd readily have sex with his grandfather.

Well I figured there wasn't a bloody chance in hell of that ever happening," he said with a grin, knowing better now, "but I figured I could show him how good sex between mates could be, if he wanted me to, and of course he did. So we went to the loo and I explained the different ways mates could make love as I began kissing him and caressing him and as we undressed each other and fiddled with each other's dicks. Of all the ways I knew, what I really wanted to do deep inside was to fuck him, because of all the ways I know I like being fucked the best I guess, and when I asked him what he wanted to try, to my delight he said he wanted me to do just that, to fuck him. It's a good thing too, because if we'd wanked off or sucked maybe I'd have shot my seed in the toilet or down his throat," he said with a grin, causing the older boys around the table in particular to laugh.

"Of course I don't think that I'd have shot a seed at all if that had been the case," he continued. "In fact I'm thinking now maybe there was another reason we decided on fucking, a higher reason," he observed, looking meaningfully at Bishop Gregory and at Klaus Wojtyla. "Anyway, I had no lube with me of course, but I knew spit worked so Dylan knelt down and spit all over my cock while I drooled on it, and when it was stiff and dripping with our spit he scooped some up and rubbed it over his butthole and stuck his finger up his arse to lube it." The image of the six and ten-year-old boys drooling over the older boy's young cock in the can and the younger boy sticking his finger up his arse and lubing it with their spit had everyone swelling with arousal once again, their doldrums quickly evaporating with the heat of their passion. "Then Dylan turned around and I got behind him and stuck my dick up his arse. Our spit worked real slick and it went in easy. Dylan braced himself against the wall of the cubicle and I wrapped one arm around his waist and began to wank him while I started to fuck him. I've only had sex that way with Harold, and this was way different, and I don't just mean because it was easier to put my arm around Dylan's stomach or because his dicky was that much smaller," he observed, causing the men and again especially the boys, to chuckle. Harold was not an obese man, but at sixty-one he did have a much larger, and hairier, stomach than the six-year-old. The thought of the ten-year-old boy fucking his bearded, white-haired lover had every dick rising.

"It was bloody awesome. I was horny as hell and my pecker was throbbing and aching and felt like it was ten times its size. I could feel Dylan's dicky throbbing too and the way he was snorting and squirming I knew it was great for him also. I really began plowing him and wanking him and my cock felt so numb and tingly all over and his arse felt so great, so hot and moist and tight. It fit my dick just like a glove. And his dick felt so hard, like a bloody nail. As I was thrusting my hips back and forth and driving my cock in and out of his arse I was thinking what his mother would say if she only knew what her son and I were doing at that moment, and how wicked it would be if I could only seed him and then his grandfather could fuck him and they could have a baby, and how that would show his ignorant mother and other relatives. The more I thought about it the more I wished I could do it and that Charles had been there to do it. I didn't realize it at the time but I began to concentrate on just that, shooting a seed up his arse, and with each shove I imagined it shooting out and wishing it could be.

Well, I began to bang him like I'd gone crazy, smashing him up against the wall of the cubicle there in the loo, and we were both grunting and snorting like two pigs. We were bloody lucky nobody came into the loo while we were going at it. I don't know how long we did it, but it was a long time. Finally I felt the, you know, the way it gets tight in the pit of your stomach, in your pubes actually, you know, when you're gonna orgasm, and I was thinking about that and I felt something snap in my pubes, like a rubber band or something, and I thought oh bloody hell now what? I swear I felt something racing up the middle of my bone and spurt out the tip. It was like shooting out a pea like Michael said, a giant pea. Actually, at the time I thought it was more like a bullet," he said excitedly, causing everyone to laugh. "I didn't know it at the time, but I obviously seeded him," he observed, looking over at Dylan's little baby. "It was bloody fucking fantastic."

"And obviously the ban on seeing Dylan wasn't totally enforced," Bobby observed, Edward's description of his passion banging Dylan reminding the hefty trucker of how wild it had been the first time he'd fucked his boymate Billy.

"No," said Owain. "Fortunately it wasn't. As I said, Dylan's father didn't agree with the rest of the family regarding my sexual practices, nor with his wife regarding contact between myself and Dylan. Of course he couldn't openly defy her what with her threat to divorce him and take Dylan with her, but he also knew how upset his son was and that he had to do something. So, he phoned me and we arranged for a special Christmas get together, just the three of us, the weekend before the twenty-fifth. Of course none of us knew just how special that weekend was going to be! December 17 will always hold a very special meaning for me from now on. On the way out to see me-well, so I was told afterward. Maybe you'd better tell them Dylan, about your conversation with your dad on your way out to see me."

"I asked my dad if it was true that Grandpa fucked his bum when he was a boy," Dylan said with all the innocence and openness of a six-year-old, just as he had back in December.

"Just like that?" asked Billy with a wide grin. The eleven-year-old had been precocious, but that was something he would have done when he was six. Dylan nodded. "And what did he say?"

"He asked if Mom told me that and I said no but that I'd met a kid and I told him the stuff my mom had asked me and the stuff I heard her talking to Gramma about on the phone and he figured that was what it was all about and why I wasn't allowed to see Grandpa anymore. He asked me who this kid was and how old he was and I told him I'd met him at the museum and I figured he was ten, but I didn't tell him he'd given me his phone number in case I ever wanted to talk, though I did after we found out I was preggers. Anyway, I asked him if Edward was right saying that was why we weren't going to see Grandpa at Christmas. Well, he thought for a bit and then told me I mustn't tell anyone what he was going to tell me." He looked up at his sixty-seven-year-old grandfather uncertainly.

"That's all right, Dylan," he said, "you can tell these people. They're like us."

"It was sortta what Grandpa just said, 'cept not so much, that Grandpa likes to do certain stuff with boys, sex stuff, and that Mom and my aunts and uncles think that's wrong. He said lots of people don't think men and boys should do that stuff so I mustn't tell anyone about Grandpa, and he said that he didn't think what Grandpa did was bad and that he did do it to him when he was a boy and that he'd liked it. And he said that I especially mustn't tell Mom about this weekend. I asked him if Grandpa was going to fuck my bum this weekend." Several of the men snorted and tried unsuccessfully to repress a laugh. "That's what Dad did," Dylan continued, looking at one of the men who had snorted with a grin. "He said we were going to go see Grandpa secretly because he didn't want me to think bad of Grandpa, and that he figured Grandpa had every right to see me this holiday. We drove a bit and he asked me what I'd think if Grandpa did want to do it, and I said I'd be happy and that it feels good to have your bum fucked. He sort of snorted and laughed again and asked me how I knew that and I told him about Edward fucking me."

"What did he say about that?" asked Edward, hearing this for the first time.

"He asked me all about it, what we said and what we did and who did what. He wasn't mad or nothing. He was sortta happy that I liked it."

"He was happy," Owain confirmed. "When they arrived I was delighted to see both of them, especially after the way everyone had been avoiding me or outright refusing to talk to me, and I was relieved that they were both delighted to see me too. I knew Dylan's dad had no regrets about our past, but I also knew very well the pressures of peers and society and family and how they can get people to say and do things they don't really believe. I was glad to see he hadn't given in to those pressures even though I had suspected he wouldn't. As for Dylan, I figured he had been kept totally in the dark about everything.

The first moment my son and I were alone I was about to ensure him that I had no intention of doing anything the slightest questionable with Dylan, and for his own peace of mind I didn't want him to leave Dylan and me alone for a second. Before I could, he told me about the questions Dylan had asked and his responses and the rest of the conversation he and Dylan had on the way out. He also said that he'd be grateful if while they were there I could confirm with Dylan that what he had said had happened to him in the museum had really happened that way, and that he was all right with it. Of course I said I would, but I warned my son of the risks of me and Dylan being alone and getting into such an intimate and potentially arousing conversation. He replied that if an opportunity arose and I wanted to act on it and if Dylan wanted me to, he was all right with that. He said that in fact, on the rest of the drive out, he'd decided to tell me about his conversation with Dylan in the hopes such an opportunity would arise because he knew Dylan would be ensured a tender, positive experience, and would know that sex between a boy and an adult, or a grandfather and grandson, was not bad. He said he knew I'd be avoiding any compromising situation and that I'd never entice Dylan and certainly not force him into anything. He also said it would be a shame if I went out of my way to avoid a situation. He knew how much we liked each other and how close we were and figured having a sexual experience, regardless of which act we ended up engaging in, would strengthen the bond between us."

"So he not only gave you his okay to have sex with his son, but encouraged you to do it?" asked Ted, putting his arm about his own son who had borne the two of them a baby, Jacob, now fifteen months old. He knew many of the men there were having sex with their little toddler sons, but their toddlers were different, and their mates knew about it and were having sex with them too. Despite everyone's frankness and open-mindedness, the thirty-five-year-old computer tech was very self-conscious that he was the only man there who'd had and was having sex with his own son, not a toddler but a boy now seven years old.

"That's right," Owain replied, knowing how incredulous and outrageous that would sound to most people but that those there would appreciate and prize the relationship he and his son had with each other. "Dylan and his father arrived Saturday afternoon. There had been a fresh snowfall and we went tobogganing like we usually did the day before Christmas and came home soaked to the skin. We changed into dry clothes and Dylan into his pyjamas and warmed up with homemade soup I'd left simmering on the stove and fresh Welsh cakes I'd baked knowing they were coming. Afterward we retired to the living room and sat in front of the fireplace with a hot toddy for us men and hot spiced apple cider for Dylan and opened our gifts to each other and sang Christmas carols, just like we used to do as a family. Dylan has a marvellous voice and has an ear for music," he added proudly. "Then we just sat in front of the fire, Dylan cuddling up in my lap, and his father and I exchanged glances and figured it was as opportune a time as any so he quietly got up and slipped out of the room." Owain paused and thought for a moment. "Why don't you tell them what happened," Owain suggested, knowing like Gregory that coming out of the boy's mouth would dispel any suspicions that he'd somehow coerced the boy.

Having heard Joey tell his story and eager to prove his grandpa was not a bad man, Dylan was more than eager to tell his tale. "Grandpa said that Dad had told him that I knew why everyone was mad with him. I told him that I did, but I wasn't mad at him, and that Dad wasn't either. He said Dad also told him about the boy in the museum but he'd like to hear me tell it if I didn't mind telling him what happened, so I did. He asked me all kinds of questions about what we did and how we did it so I knew he was really interested and not just pretending to be interested like a lot of adults do. As I told him, I had my hand in his lap and I could feel his pee-er was interested too and getting excited." Everyone smiled at that and pictured the six-year-old boy sitting in his grandfather's lap in his pyjamas in front of the fireplace with his hand on his growing dick. "When I finished, he asked me how it felt and how I felt about the boy doing it to me. I said it had felt really good but sort of weird, in a good way, especially when it made my pee-er all hard and tingly and my bum hole all hot and itchy, and especially at the end when my body began jerking all on its own and I couldn't stop it and when I felt the boy shooting something up my bum. And I told him that I was glad the boy had been honest with me and had shown me what it was like." He smiled over at Edward and Edward returned the smile.

"By the time I was finished Grandpa's pee-er was really hard and hot. I could tell right through his trousers. I said Dad said that he'd fucked his bum and that it felt good and he was glad they did it, and that I knew Dad was three years older than me when they did it but I didn't think that mattered and that I bet it would feel good and hinted lots but he didn't get my hints so I finally said if he wanted to fuck my bum I knew what to do."

"Oh, I got the hints," Owain said with a chuckle. "A six-year-old sitting on your lap as cute as one of God's cherubs themselves with his little hand on your erection and talking about having had his ass fucked in the men's room for the first time by a ten-year-old and hinting he'd like you to do it to him, a man would have to be blind, deaf and dead from the waist down not to get the hint!" He smiled down at Dylan. "Go on with your story."

At that point their son Llewellyn began to fuss and the boy took him from his grandfather and opening up his shirt, began to nurse him. "Well, Grandpa bent over and kissed me on the forehead, and then on my cheek, and finally on my lips, and he slipped his hands under my pyjamas top and began to pull it up over my head, so I began to undo his shirt. We took each other's clothes off til we were butt naked," he said with a grin. "And then we began to kiss and stuff some more. Grandpa kissed me everywhere, on the lips, on the cheeks, on my nips and belly and my dicky and nuts, and even my bum," he said with a giggle, and the other boys giggled too. "I kissed him right back, and all over too, but not his bum." The younger boys giggled again. "His pee-er was hard and sticking straight up and I kissed it, right on the head and the tip, and he began to leak that pre-cum stuff. He said that was because his dicky was eager to fuck my bum and I said I was eager too. We kissed and stuff way longer than Edward and I did.

Then Grandpa took out this tube of stuff and smeared it over his pee-er and then my bum hole and stuck his fingers up my bum to make it slipperier and I'm glad he did because I was wondering how his pee-er was going to fit up my bum. It's way bigger than Edward's! Grandpa took the cushions off the sofa and put them on the rug in front of the fireplace and I lay on my back with my bum up on the cushions and he knelt on the other side and put the tip of his big fat sausage against my bum hole and started to push it in. I knew from doing it with Edward that I was supposed to push out with my stomach at the same time so I did. I was surprised but his big sausage had no trouble fitting in my asshole.

The rest was like with Edward. It felt awesome having his big fat cock stretching open my bumhole and sticking way up my bum, and I could feel it beating inside me as he pumped it in and out. It was really cool. I had a boner and Grandpa told me to wank it and when I told him I didn't know what that meant he explained and I took it in my fingers and rubbed it and pulled my skin right back off my knob and then pushed it back over it like Edward had done to me. It really felt awesome." He glanced over at Edward before adding, "even more awesome than with Edward being it was my grandpa." Relieved when Edward smiled back at him, he continued. "My bumhole was really burning like it was on fire, and my dicky felt really strange, all swollen like when you get a bee bite, and the knob really itching, like a mosquito bite itches, and I got a really weird feeling deep inside where your dicky joins your belly. And then I started to jerk and stuff again and Grandpa grasped me tight and shoved forward real hard and I could feel him squirting his stuff up my bum, except it felt way different from when Edward had done it. It squirted and squirted and was hot and wet and sticky. But it felt awesome and Grandpa was puffing and wiggling and I could tell it was awesome for him too. When we finished, we laid there on the floor in each other's arms and kissed and our dickies had gone soft again, except his didn't go all the way soft and was still big and fat, and it was leaking this white stuff that Grandpa said was cum."

"Dylan asked what it was, and when I told him he said Edward's hadn't done that, and when I told him that was because Edward was too young to squirt yet, he said but Edward did squirt cuz he felt him squirt something up his bum, but he only squirted once, not a bunch of times like I did, and it wasn't wet and sticky. At the time I thought it was just the boy's imagination," he said with a smile, "but we all know different now."

"I've fucked butt dozens of times before that and after that, but that was the only time I ever seeded anyone. It was the only time I wanted to and thought about how much I wanted to. It's like Billy Bob said, I thunked it," Edward said with a grin and Billy Bob looked up at him with a sparkle in his eyes and large grin before reaching for his third piece of cake.

"It appears Billy Bob hasn't released a seed with everyone he has had anal sex with either," Bobby observed.

"It's a good thing too, or every boy in his daycare and kindergarten and every boy he's met on the playgrounds would be able to become pregnant!" said Billy, causing everyone to chuckle.

"Same goes for Korby," observed Kevin with a hint of pride. "He can't keep it in his pants." They all laughed at that also.

"Just like his birth father," Kyle commented, causing another round of laughter. "Of course all animals have a natural drive, an instinct, to reproduce, and a way to attract a mate. Humans are no different."

"You calling me an animal?" Kevin asked, narrowing his eyes in mock anger.

"You are in bed," teased Kyle to the laughter of the others. The rapport between the two of them was reflective of the relationship all of the boys and their lovers had. And as Randy and Jack had observed the night before in the privacy of their fifth wheel, with the extra stresses and worries of their lifestyle, it was good to laugh.

"Seriously though, Korby seems to have some sort of mild psychic ability to induce sexual excitement in other boys, especially boys of a very young age," Kyle continued. "I don't know if it's because at their age boys prefer the company of other boys or if it's part of his psychic ability, but the boys he induces turn to him or other boys for sex play rather than girls. There's a variety of ways nature has provided to initiate the sex drive, pheromones, oestrous cycles in females causing them to go into heat, and elaborate courtship behaviours for example. With Korby, and our other toddlers I suspect, nature seems to have provided a mental ability to ensure he seeds other boys so they can become fertile and produce more boys." Kyle of course was curious how his four-year-old son did what he was doing and had asked him and observed him, and the twenty-three year old's conclusions reflected his background as a marine biologist.

"So, you're saying it's like he's in heat?" asked Tim, trying to understand what was going to be happening to his son Christopher.

"In a way, except it seems to be something he can control, that he can turn on and off, and it's mental, not chemical. We all know we all have a natural instinct to have sex. In humans that instinct is strictly discouraged and reduced to a subliminal state until puberty, and society discourages its expression even later than that, until adulthood if it can, and even then it is controlled; and while nature has ways to encourage sex to be between males and females, only humans attempt to make that exclusively heterosexual. Unlike anywhere else in nature and unlike other boys, bred into our sons, and encouraged by our own example I suspect, is the desire to have sex with others of the same gender, and at a much younger age. So what I'm saying is that Korby somehow initiates with his mind that natural sexual desire laying there dormant and those he initiates it in either naturally or by his mental influence have sex with him and other boys. He even seems able to win over those who have already been conditioned to repress their sexual urges or to direct them only to the opposite sex, even at their young ages, though how much of that is his psychic ability and how much is pure charm I don't know. He's never used his mind to actually force any boy to have sex with him to my knowledge, and I suspect none of our other toddlers have forced anyone to have sex with them either." Kyle looked around and those with older toddlers nodded their agreement though not all of them had pursued the matter with their sons to his depth.

"So what you're saying is that Korby, and the others his age, engages in sex for fun and pleasure, but also with a purpose. Bred into him is a drive, an innate desire, to search for boys who he can change biologically to reproduce their own kind their own way. Only when he finds the right boy for that does he plant his seed," clarified Ray, adding his more philosophical bent to Kyle's biological.

"That's right."

"And how do they decide which is the right boy?" asked Tim.

"I asked Davey that and he said that he can just tell," responded their campground host.

"Billy Bob said the same thing," Billy said in support as he wiped the cake crumbs and ice cream from his mouth with the back of his hand. "He said he can tell that the boy has a special love for men and a need to be loved deep inside him that's a lot stronger than how it feels just having sex fun, and when he finds such a boy his whole body hurts and it makes him dizzy and his heart feels like it is going to explode." He looked down fondly at Billy Bob sitting beside him and the youngster nodded so emphatically his long, sun-bleached blond curls bounced. With his long, fine, blond hair and deep blue eyes he looked like a cherub, a naked cherub with a chocolate cake and icing moustache happily fiddling with his little dickey as he turned and spooned up another mouthful of ice cream with his other hand.

"That's a good description of how I felt when I met Joey," observed Michael.

"And when I met Dylan," agreed Edward.

"Sounds like quite an experience," Tim observed.

"Actually, it sounds like the moment I laid my eyes on Stevie," observed Peter with a smile, wrapping an arm about the six-year-old boy sitting beside him nursing their five-month-old baby. A boylover since his mid-teens, Peter had intercepted Stevie's father who'd been verbally abusing him at a park. Having cruised hundreds of parks and playgrounds looking for boys, to watch and admire, and yes, for sex, he'd observed thousands of preteen and teenage boys, but never had he felt the lust and love that he'd felt the first time he'd spotted Stevie. They all thought back to the first time they'd spotted the special boy in their lives and agreed with Peter's analogy.

"Have any of you noticed that those special feelings between you and your boymate when you are making love are even stronger when your son is, ah, how shall I say, also involved?" asked Ray.

Despite their openness and their liberal views, they were still hesitant and embarrassed to admit and discuss their intimate relationships with their little sons, the result of years of cultural and religious indoctrination.

"Oh yes," admitted Harold. "From our experiences with our son Charles, I'd be confident to say that those mild telepathic abilities Kyle mentioned to encourage other boys to have sex also allows our toddlers to have a specific form of telepathic communication with others, one that is more along the line of communicating feelings than thoughts. Anyone who has pets can tell you that animals, particularly dogs, can sense when a person is sad or upset, and will try to comfort him, and that cuddling with a pet will often bring one out of his depression. Using pets to lift the spirits of the elderly has become an accepted medical and psychological practice in care for the aged. Kyle isn't the only one who has been doing some thinking and wondering about our little toddlers' abilities," he said with a smile as he looked over at the twenty-three-year-old marine biologist.

"It's my opinion that those same abilities used to induce other toddlers to have sex with them can also induce feelings of lust and desire in older boys and even in men. So, when you and your boymate are engaging in sex and include your little son in your sex play, and let's be honest, we all have and those with newborns will in the future also, then that telepathic ability of our toddlers allows them to broadcast, shall we say, the pleasure they are feeling and to pick up and share the sexual pleasure we and our boymates are feeling, thus combining and magnifying by threefold the pleasure being felt by all the parties involved."

"It's all amazing," observed Owain.

"Indeed it is," agreed Gregory as they began to gather up the paper plates and clean up the picnic shelter.

That evening as the campfires sputtered and died and the lights went out one by one, the exhausted campers all had a lot to think about after their first four days at the campground. And though as they crawled into their beds that night they were much wiser than when they'd risen, they also knew there was much they still did not know or understand. One thing that was certain, however, from the frenzy of activity in the motor homes, trailers, tents and their host's log cabin and the heightened level of pleasure and lust ebbing throughout the campground that night, there was a lot of broadcasting going on.

Chapter 26

"So I've been thinking. If this keeps on, eventually there will no longer be a need for suppositories, right?" asked thirteen-year-old Nicholas Billingsworth who himself had used suppositories on his boymate sitting beside him, seven-year-old Kerry Kilpatrick. The two boys were developing head to toe tans from a week of swimming and romping about the campground and adjacent forest naked as jays. Other than the lack of tan lines and having a five-month-old baby boy, James Ryan, or JR, they looked and acted like normal, typical boys on their summer vacation. Their behaviour was unpretentious and the only hint that each came from a multibillionaire family and was accustomed to being surrounded by servants and society's elite was that the tent they were sleeping in and their camping equipment was the best that money could buy. That and the fact they'd flown in by private jet to Rock Springs where Ray had picked them up.

"Well, I suspect that there will always be boys born of women that would require suppositories or need to be seeded if they were to become fecund, but when you consider our children and their descendants, you're right. All of our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren and beyond will be male with a modified appendix and an internal W gonad and will be producing W and Y sperm so they'll need neither seeding nor suppositories."

"And they will all be attractive, zealous man lovers and grow up to be attractive, zealous boy lovers," said Norm with a grin, the muscular fireman putting his arm around his eight-year-old boymate Joshua and looking down at their five-month-old son fondly.

"And before they reach puberty they'll be capable of seeding other boys and driven to reproduce still more of their own kind until they overrun the world," observed Reinhard.

"I can see where sales of your cocoa butter lube, coffee, Coca Cola and cocoa are going to soar or we'll be knee-deep in horny little anklebiters," joked Peter, referring to Harold's discovery that the drinks all contained caffeine which precipitated out the alkaline chemical that was found in the milky secretion from the prostate that made up the bulk of semen and gave it its odour and caused the boy's internal gonad to release the gamete containing the W chromosome, and his subsequent development of a lube containing cocoa butter that contained the same nitrogen-based chemical and did the same job as caffeine. "I know what stocks I'd better start investing in."

"Or in establishments catering to those who like water sports," added Jimmy, referring to Harold's other discovery that a high concentration of urea in the intestines or the blood also prevented the release of the gamete containing the W chromosome, which had been the reason Ray and Michael had not conceived a second son. He and Calvin had, in fact, already discussed opening just such a chain in conjunction with the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys not just to offer a needed service for their clientele but also to help raise funds for the Mission to do its other work.

"Right on," said Kyle with a wide smile, causing several to wonder if the darkly handsome twenty-three-year-old marine biologist and his boymate, two months away from his twelfth birthday, engaged in the fetish, and more than a few cocks to begin stirring with the image of the two doing so.

"Sounds like it's going to be some kind of world!" observed Thaddeus, the muscular, fifty-six-year-old Polish dockworker glancing about at his fellow boylovers.

"But back to the present and practical problems, what do you fellows plan on doing with your sons once they are born?" asked Ray as he glanced around at the fathers-to-be and their pregnant boymates.

"Kyle and I have talked about that," Jack said. "We'll enroll our son in the same daycare as Korby while we are at work, and until we figure out something else he will live with Kyle and Kevin, with Randy and me spending as much time as we can with him in the evenings and on weekends and holidays of course."

"And your wife?"

"That is a problem," replied the hirsute thirty-four-year-old oceanographer. She'll have to be ignorant of everything of course. She doesn't know anything about my bisexual life, and would freak out if she knew I was having sex and was in love with a six-year-old boy. And she'd never believe we had a son together. I still love her, though in a very different way. Actually, none of my family or friends will ever be able to know about my other life otherwise what happened to Owain will certainly happen to me. That I could handle if I really had to, but I can't imagine what sort of hell Randy would live through, and I can't imagine the two of us not being together, or with our son."

"It will have to be the same with my wife, and with my family and friends," Phil observed. The twenty-eight-year-old school counsellor from Houston had been happily married for three years and couldn't begin to imagine her reaction if she ever found out he was having sex with a seven-year-old student he'd been counselling. "That's what makes this outing so great, being able to express our love so openly, and to have such support." Everyone agreed heartily with that statement. "Tom and Derrick have offered to look after our son when he is not in daycare, for which Timmy and I are most grateful, and like Jack we hope to spend as much time with him as possible."

"Well, I don't have the problem of a wife complicating things," Gregory said with a smile and the others chuckled. "Actually, I suppose Joseph and I have it the easiest of all of us. He will of course be moving into the rectory to live with me and we'll be removing him from the adoption registry. Nobody will question that and most likely I'll be praised for my act of Christian charity," he observed with another smile. "Given his health record it's not likely anyone will question his protruding stomach that until now we've been able to hide under loose and baggy clothes, and choir robes! With Harold's most welcome news it appears Joey won't be having any difficulty when it comes time to give birth. In fact with there being no trace of diabetes, and his dystrophy not only in remission but his muscles repairing themselves, his pregnancy just could be a miracle in more ways than one. When Noah is born we'll raise him together of course. He wouldn't be the first foundling to be left on the steps of the church. Of course people will wonder why he isn't being placed in the orphanage and put up for adoption, but given my position I don't expect there will be any serious questioning of my decision. If push does come to shove, I can always produce a note that was supposedly left with the baby requesting he be raised by the church."

"You've decided on his name," observed Thaddeus.

"Yes. We did toy with the idea of Jesus, Joseph being his birth father after all, but we decided that might be pushing the concept of immaculate conception a bit too far," Gregory observed with a smile once again. The sense of humour of the usually sombre and pensive priest was still a surprise to many of them, especially him being a bishop, but they were becoming used to his more jovial and earthly side, and those who were observant noticed over the past seven days he was smiling much more frequently. Ray had been right about the camping experience having an unctuous effect. "Noah was chosen by God to save mankind and repopulate the world after the flood. Though we're not facing another flood, the world is racing toward another catastrophe, environmentally and socially, and I have a strong feeling that our little son, along with all of yours, is the beginning of a repopulation of the earth with a new species of human, and perhaps a new hope."

Thaddeus and Klaus glanced at each other. They'd had very similar thoughts and that Gregory, a bishop, felt along the same lines and that they'd never once discussed their thoughts with him or anyone else made his observation all the more significant. The others all agreed with his sentiments about the future of the earth to varying degrees, but they were all in unanimous agreement that their sons were the beginning of a very different world. Noah was a fitting name.

"Well, I don't have a wife in the picture either," Anton observed, "and to a large extent with my type of work I can raise our son myself, but we haven't figured out how we're going to arrange for Zachariah to spend the time we'd like with him and with me. And unfortunately I don't have the good fortune of having anyone Zachariah and I can share our secret with or to help out on those times when my job is going to make it impossible for me to have our son along. On top of it, considering Zachariah's parents' strict religious beliefs and legal backgrounds and views on gays, we are going to have to be particularly careful. Like Phil said, having met all of you and getting your advice has been a big relief, and we're certainly open to any other ideas you might have."

"You do have more limitations than some of us. I've been wondering about that actually. How is it the two of you were able to get away together to come here to the Tetons?" asked Cy.

"We have the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys to thank for that," Anton replied.

"Oh?" said Bobby in surprise, looking over at Jimmy and Calvin. He knew a lot about the work they were doing, having gotten to know the two boys through Billy's friendship with Jimmy's stepbrother Aaron, but he'd had no idea that they had known the artist prior to this week. John, Aaron's thirty-two-year-old construction-worker boylover, who had helped the two boys financially after the birth of their two sons and had encouraged their Mission work was just as surprised.

"Ray mentioned the problem Anton had when he phoned to see if we had any contacts in the Yukon to help the boy and his lover up there. I suggested sending Zachariah's parents some of our promotional literature, including our network of summer camps for boys, and arranged for one of our workers in San Francisco to meet with them supposedly to find out about their anti-gay campaign work, it always being good to be aware and pro-active about such things, but mainly to lay it on about the religious focus of our camps and to drop off some false contact information. As far as they are concerned, their son is at this very moment engaged in Bible study and self enhancement meditation," Calvin said with a grin. "As for your problem about finding some help, our San Francisco Mission is one of the busiest when it comes to matching up boylovers with boys who need adoption or foster care. I'm sure we could find a gay couple that would be happy to help out in a pinch and that would provide good role models for your son, and that we can trust to keep your secret relationship secret."

"Way to go!" said Bobby appreciatively, the big trucker clapping the twenty-year-old on the back and practically knocking him headfirst into the remaining cake. Calvin had come a long way from the drug pushing high school dropout he'd been when they'd first met. Calvin was now a very successful and respected entrepreneur and businessman and advocate for boys, and only recently turned twenty.

"And what are you and Mark going to do?" Bobby asked, turning to the fifth and last of the prospective parents.

"Well, like Gregory and Anton, I don't have a wife to worry about," observed Cy, "and in that I've never been one to stay put in any one place for long I don't really have a close network of friends or even family that close that I need to worry about wondering what I'm doing globetrotting with a six-year-old boy and a baby. I've done weirder things," he said with a sly smile, and from what they already knew about the forty-one-year-old photographer, they didn't doubt it. "It won't be easy being constantly on the move and considering some of the remote places my work takes me, but I'm sure we'll manage."

Glancing over at Mark who was sitting off at another picnic table with the other four pregnant boys at the moment, he lowered his voice and continued, "I am worried about what effect that sort of lifestyle is going to have on Mark though. A six-year-old boy needs to be around boys his age and to do boy things, not hanging out with a forty-one-year-old man in some Godforsaken corner of the world, and besides, there's the matter of how he's going to get his schooling. And though he is not a priority in his parents' eyes and they have agreed to let him live with me, that is temporary and only because neither wants the other to have him and they don't have a better solution. There's nothing in writing, and I'm afraid they, or more likely their scavenger lawyers, are going to try to gain his support or somehow use him as a bargaining chip in their attack on each other at some point. I'm worried for him, and what effect that might have on our being together down the line."

"Well, perhaps the Bernstein-Fields Mission can be of some help there too," suggested Calvin. "We have a network that stretches around the world. I doubt if there's anyplace on this earth that you're going to be that we don't have contacts with boylovers and boys Mark's age that he and you can spend some time with. And with the Internet and communications technology today he can develop just as close friendships as he can if he was living in some home in the suburbs, probably closer in that he'd be in touch with boys with similar interests and experiences, if you know what I mean. The Mission also has connections with the best online education providers there are and can give you their names. And, we have some of the brightest lawyers in the country on our payroll, and a couple who are also clients. I'm sure they could come up with a custody arrangement that would be agreeable to Mark's parents and their lawyers, and benefit the two of you at the same time."

"I wouldn't be surprised at that," observed Nicholas. "The Bernstein-Fields Mission was certainly a big help to us." He glanced over at Kerry who was sitting beside him happily munching on a hotdog while breastfeeding their son and the two smiled. "When Kerry's stomach became evident, we contacted Billy to ask what we should do, and he referred us to the Mission. They had Billy's uncle Ted pretend to be a specialist doctor and assure Kerry's parents that he would be all right, and they provided a room where our son could be born, and right now they are looking after him at the Mission but are working on Kerry's parents to adopt JR as part of a charity donation they want to give the Mission because of the care they think the Mission provided Kerry when he was supposedly sick with worms. And it was some worm!" The two boys glanced at each other and then down at their five-month-old son and chuckled. "And they have a backup plan to work on my parents if that fails. The Bernstein-Fields Mission is wicked awesome."

"I have to agree with that. They've done the same for Kwame and me," Nat observed. "They provided a doctor to cover up what was really happening, and a room for Kwame to give birth in, and have been looking after our son these past five months. And with their help we've started an application through the state that will have me adopt the boy so he can live with me, likely by next month, and since I'm renting a room at my sister's, he'll be living with Kwame too."

"Sweet," observed Nicholas.

"Calvin and Jimmy are very talented, or maybe I should say tricky," observed Ted, adding with a smile as he glanced at his nephew Billy and his son Taylor, "with the help of a few others."

"Yes, they certainly are," Bobby said, looking at Calvin and Jimmy and then the two grinning boys.

"I'll second that," agreed John, who as Aaron's lover, had come to think of Calvin and Jimmy as brothers-in-law. The two boys glanced at each other with shy smiles, uncomfortable with all the attention and praise.

"And they are busy too," observed Aaron, proud of the work his stepbrother and his beloved were doing. Three years ago he'd thought they were both jerks and hated him but now, at the age of eleven years and eight months and about to enter junior high, there were no two people he thought more highly of other than perhaps his lover. "They're getting calls all the time from all over the country, and from loads of other countries too."

"From Alabama to Wyoming, and from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe," observed Jimmy. "We now have a Mission in each continent except Antarctica, and three here in the United States, and each Mission is opening up branches as fast as we can."

"Seriously? You've had a call from Afghanistan?"

"From a Kandahar policeman. Sex between boys and men is quite common there actually," observed Calvin.

"That is true, and in many other Moslem lands. With all the taboos and restrictions on courtship between young men and women and the shame brought to the family honour for girls to have sex before marriage, and the strictness and cruelty in enforcing the laws and customs that people have accepted for centuries, man-boy sex is an easier alternative," observed Rashid, the thirty-six-year-old archaeologist from Iraq who had first camped with the others with his now eight-year-old boymate, Kareem, and twenty-one-month-old son last year, having learned about the camp from the Bernstein-Fields Mission to whom he had been referred by the ancient oriental who'd provided him with the suppositories that had resulted in Kareem's pregnancy.

"Man-boy sex is a lot more common throughout the world today than those who oppose such love would like to admit," observed Reinhard, the twenty-six-year-old German having been frequenting teen gay chat rooms and boylove blog sites for the past ten years.

"That is very true," agreed Thaddeus, one of Reinhard's boylove Internet friends. "It is even more common than some of us are aware. Which reminds me, were you ever contacted by pair of twins from Cuba?"

"Yes, Enrique and Raimundo. They are an interesting pair of boys," Jimmy said. In that the twins, now thirteen, had impregnated each other, as had Jimmy and Calvin inadvertently some two and a half years ago, he and Calvin could relate to their surprise and their joy upon discovering they were pregnant.

"Yes, they are the ones, and they are interesting. Klaus and I were fortunate to be present at the birth of their boys, two sets of twins, beautiful as their fathers. We suggested they contact you if they needed any advice or help raising their sons, and so they might have someone else to network with."

The Cuban twins and the two American boys had only known each other for four months and only as friends through the Internet, but the four had bonded just as closely as if they'd grown up together. Unfortunately relations between Cuba and the States made it next to impossible for them to meet, but they were all hoping to travel to Canada or to Russia at some time in the not too distant future so they could do so.

"Networking has become a very important part of the Mission, connecting those from scattered parts of the world who might not have anyone else to contact," observed Calvin. "Some live in remote parts of the world, like an Aborigine and two boys, one white and one black, in the Australian outback that contacted us if you can believe it, and a guy who packs supplies for tourists on the Inca trail and his boymate who live in a little hut high above a tiny village in the Andes in Peru."

"How have such far flung people learned of the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys?" asked Norm, the Deputy Fire Chief totally awed by his first visit to the private campground and all he'd heard this past week. It was a whole world he'd never known existed, and had it not been for the perception and persistence of his boymate Joshua and his friend Taylor and Taylor's cousin Billy and his son Billy Bob, all who recognized he was a boylover, a world and joy-filled life he'd never have known.

"Well, some people have gotten in touch with us from the contact information in the ads we've placed announcing our other services. The main aim of the Mission is to provide and promote help for boys and that is the message and focus of our ads. Our own Missions or foster parents contracted by us provide temporary care for babies being put up for adoption. We also provide at our Missions or by referrals to individuals we've approved counselling and social support services for boys who have lost parents or have been separated from them due to abuse. Another of our services is the provision of group homes for troubled boys or placement of such boys in foster care with couples that again we've approved. We also provide an adoption service for international adoptions from third world countries, but our preference, and we are open and upfront about it, is to keep the boys in their own country and culture. And as I mentioned, we do offer real summer camps for boys and other programs like that through groups that have affiliated with us.

Of course all the services I've mentioned and that are in our ads are legit and apply to all boys and right now that takes up the vast majority of our time and our money. There are underlying them some hidden services however," Calvin said with a smile. "Every one of our Missions is staffed by boylovers who are aware of our covert operations. Of course we don't state so in our ads, but the parents we place our babies with are all boylovers whom we've screened carefully to be sure they believe in and follow our principles of boylove. And in our counselling and social support services, if we determine a boy is gay or if he exhibits signs he is a man lover, we place him in a loving home of boylovers also. Same goes for troubled boys who have been referred to us. Many are referred by the courts or social service agencies now due to the reputation we've built up. I think they'd be quite shocked if they knew some of the boys they've referred are going to end up in homes they would never approve of." He smiled again and many of the men chuckled at the irony of that.

"So, The Mission has developed a sound reputation around the world and at least ninety percent of our work is legal and dealing strictly with the straight community, with boys referred to us channelled toward the gay and boylover communities wherever appropriate. As a result, that covert aspect of our services has gotten around word by mouth, which with the Internet is almost instantaneous and is worldwide, and those gay and boylove communities contact us, as I said through the contact information in our ads, making their own referrals of boys who can benefit from our services, and signing up to work for the Mission and on our waiting lists for boys. There are some of you here who have skills we can use and might want to consider doing that," Calvin added, glancing around at the newest members of the group and at Phil and Gregory in particular, always alert to opportunities to expand the Mission.

"The other ten percent of our work is dealing specifically with our own little community of boylovers, which is rapidly growing. Just like we do for all boys, we provide and promote help for boys and boylovers, and the on the spot problem-solving like making arrangements to attend this camp get together, providing pretend doctors to cover for our pregnant boymates and the births of their children, and arranging for the adoption of our babies by the parents of our boymates is more common than you might suspect," Calvin observed. "And, unlike our other services, for our group we also provide lawyers specializing in gay and boylove issues and divorce and custody agreements. We provide counselling on pregnancy issues and where possible connect those expecting with those who've already given birth, and we're in the process of training our own male midwives and writing childbirth and child rearing resources specific to our needs. Again, if any of you can help, just let me know. There's plenty of work to be done." Calvin again glanced around at the group of men and boys with an engaging smile. He was becoming quite the promoter.

"And as you know, we provide where we can a daycare specifically for our babies and boymates, and of course we are open to extending that service for other boys, which as you also know, helps to expand our community," Calvin continued with a grin, glancing at Nat and Norm who would not be there had their boymates not attended the same daycare as Billy Bob. "Where that isn't possible, we arrange home care with appropriate gay and preferably fellow boylovers. And of course we provide networking between boylovers, which for example is how we learned about the Cuban twins Enrique and Raimundo, and about Benito and Roberto from Mexico and Sicily, the boy from the Yukon, Timmy and Randy… and, well, others," he said, looking at Harold.

Harold smiled. "I have to commend Calvin and Jimmy and their careful selection of counsellors and frontline workers at their Missions around the world. Those I've dealt with, including Calvin and Jimmy themselves, have been exemplary in dealing with some very surprised and worried clients, and in maintaining confidentiality, which is an especially important issue for our community." The others all agreed and gave the two boys, to their embarrassment, a loud and sincere ovation. "Our little boy, Charles, has seeded two boys so far in England, besides Edward of course, and one of them at the moment is carrying the child of a very high ranking and influential individual which is going to prove to be most interesting," he said with a smile.

"A large number of others who contact us are referred to us by the Ancient," observed Jimmy, referring of course to the mysterious oriental who'd popped in and out of the lives of many of them there. "He really gets around, and has been very busy himself. A teenage boy from Saskatchewan, Canada, who has impregnated a Mennonite farm boy, the Aborigine from Australia Calvin mentioned who has impregnated two boys, a Buddhist monk from Tibet, it goes on and on. Boy lovers from all over the world."

"The only thing they have in common is that they all subscribe to the Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys Principles of Boylove," added Calvin. The Twelve Principles were printed as posters and on all brochures available to those who knew the underlying, covert purpose of the Mission. Needless to say the counsellors and other workers at the Missions all believed in and followed the principles or they would never have been hired in the first place, and all babies and boys were placed with parents who also believed in and practised the principles that Calvin and Jimmy had written up:

1. Treat a boy like he has some brain, but don't treat him like an adult as he isn't one yet; just treat him like he is worth something, worth talking to and listening to.

2. Celebrate and enjoy a boy's purity and innocence and all those things that make him a boy; don't exploit it and don't rush him into adulthood.

3. Don't trick a boy who is gullible and innocent, don't use your position of authority over the boy who depends on you and looks up to you, don't bribe or otherwise tempt a boy who has not yet developed the strength and wisdom to resist, and don't coerce a boy by physical or other means to engage in any sexual act, with you or with anyone else.

4. Allow a boy to express his sexuality, not hide it, repress it, or be ashamed of it.

5. Don't curb a boy's sexual exploration. There is no reason a boy shouldn't begin to experience the fun and pleasure of sex and that his body can bring him, whether by himself or with others, and the fun and pleasure he can bring others through sex from the moment he is born.

6. Introduce sex at the boy's pace, interest and ability to handle the mystery and the wonder of this greatest of miracles.

7. Promote sex as natural and help the boy overcome and deal with the burden of guilt and inhibitions laid on him by others.

8. Promote sex as a virtue, not as a sin nor as something immoral or filthy, but as something that is clean and wholesome.

9. Promote sexual relationships as being relationships of tenderness based on love whose purpose is the mutual giving and receiving of physical pleasure.

10. Fight for your right of freedom of expression and to be who you are. Love and the joy of companionship between a man and boy should not be kept secret out of fear what others think

11. Combat child abuse and molestation. A boylover has a tender heart and loves children and would do nothing that would harm or endanger a boy in any way, mentally, physically or spiritually.

12. Advocate for the rights of boys. Those who believe in boylove and the beauty of the boy advocate for the legality of man-boy love in all of its manifestations, both sexual and nonsexual, and the depiction in art and literature of the boy, alone and with others, regardless of age, in all his splendour and glory, enjoying and expressing his boyhood and his sexuality.

"Contrary to the opinions and wishes of the majority, boylove cuts across all cultures and religions and is found in all social classes," observed Thaddeus. "It seems our unique community does also."

"It is interesting, but there is nothing in any of the sacred texts of the major religions, the Qur'an, Vedas, Torah, Bible, that even refers to man-boy sex, never mind forbids it. The Qur'an does specifically condemn homosexuality and there are passages, some referring to the same incidences mentioned in the Qur'an, in the Torah and Bible that some followers claim forbids homosexuality, though there are others that interpret the passages differently," observed Jimmy with a glance at Gregory who nodded agreement. "The Vedas don't mention homosexuality at all and several Hindu gods actually change genders to have sex, Krishna for example turning into a woman and marrying and having sex with a man, and neither Buddha nor Confucius said anything about homosexuality or boylove. It just wasn't an issue for them. Some Shintoists and early Buddhists particularly in Japan actually practised boylove, just like they did in ancient Greece. The Bernstein-Fields Mission for Boys has provided its boylove-related services to members of all faiths, Moslems, Jews, Christians, Buddhists, followers of Confucius, atheists, you name it."

"What about Rana Anshar?" asked Rashid.

"Yes," said Gregory. "Your brochures mention support from the Rana Anshar Ministry, but I've been able to find absolutely nothing about them. Who are they?"

Jimmy and Calvin looked at each other. "That," they said, "is a mystery. They helped fund us big time when we first started the Mission, and we still get a fat cheque every three or four months, always from a different bank, that we use to start up another branch of the Mission, usually whatever part of the world we've been getting the most calls from boylovers for help. There's never a note or anything, no return address or contact information, nothing. It was Kyle who pointed out to us that Rana was the scientific name for a genus of frogs, which could be significant given the froglike appearance of the Gargoyle of Male Fecundity that some of us have seen; and it was Rashid who informed us that Anshar was in ancient Assyro-Babylonian mythology a celestial god, the Male Principle, the father of all the great gods, a warrior god and god of fertility. That is the sum total of all we know. Whoever they are is a total mystery, as is the Ancient, and the Gargoyle of Male Fecundity and exactly how it does what it does."

"Well, it would be a dull life if there were not some mysteries to be solved another day," observed Owain, "but enough serious talk for this day. This is a birthday party. There should be music and singing and games and celebration. Dylan, perhaps you will favour us with a song?"

"If you will join me, Grandpa." Dylan loved to sing and had a beautiful voice as the old man well knew, and the old man did also as his grandson knew. True to the reputation of their countrymen, the two did not disappoint, the man's bass and the boy's alto blending perfectly together. Calvin and Kyle, having brought their guitars, entertained the group with several traditional country and western tunes, several selections of more contemporary music for the younger adults of the gathering, and a medley of several lively tunes for the youngest members. Arland Grahn, the forty-seven-year-old music teacher, was coaxed into going to his motorhome and getting his violin and Nat Griffin, the jazz musician, to fetch his trumpet and Reinhard taught them all a bawdy beer-drinking song in German and in English. The party closed with Dylan singing them a Welsh ballad in his native tongue which left every man there weak in the loins, and finally Dylan and Joey singing a duet, their young voices blending in perfect harmony with each other despite having never sung together before.

The partygoers dispersed, heading to the lake or patio, the meadow, the playground, and the surrounding forest to enjoy the warm, Wyoming afternoon and each other's company, old and new friends mingling together. Dylan, Joey, Kareem and Klaus headed off into the forest deep in conversation. The foursome could not be more different: a bright, innocent, six year old Welsh boy, the son of a shipbuilder who loved to sail with his dad on the ocean and to have sex with his grandfather and who was loved dearly by his large family; a shy, quiet, nine-year-old orphan with muscular dystrophy who'd lived his entire life in an institution repeatedly rejected and disappointed and now three months pregnant, unbelievably happy and deliriously in love with a Catholic Bishop; a bold, proud, confident, eight year old illiterate peasant goatherd, a Sunni Kurd from a traditional male-dominated family living in war-ravaged Iraq and accustomed to harshness who was in love with an intellectual Shitte archaeologist from the city; and an introspective, deeply religious, eight year old Catholic boy, son of a deceased fisherman, who'd had a vision saying he would some day be a Disciple of God and was fervently in love with a stevedore who now owned his own ship-loading company in a coastal city of Poland.

One might wonder what such a foursome would have in common to talk about, but anyone who truly knew boys would know that despite their different cultures and backgrounds, their different likes and dislikes and personalities, they, like all boys, have much in common. And so they walked and talked, laughed and grew serious, turned somersaults and walked fallen, rotting logs, looked for frogs and talked about frog-like gargoyles and visions. Arriving at an outcropping of rock where the stream they had been following tumbled into a deep, clear pool, the four scrambled down to it, stripped off what little clothing they were wearing, if any, and plunged into the ice-cold water, shrieking and laughing and splashing each other. Sprawling out on the grassy bank to dry and warm in the sun a half hour later, they talked some more, about the joy and freedom of going bare-assed naked, about how one's nuts and dick shrivelled and almost disappeared when cold, like now, about the grandeur of the Tetons, about boylovers and pregnancy and raising infant sons, and about sex.

And, as to be expected of energetic, red-blooded young boys, the talk turned to action. Lying on his back, Joey caressed his stomach and spoke in awe of the life he could feel growing inside it and Klaus, sitting beside him, reached over and ran his fingers over the pregnant boy's protruding stomach also, gently and reverently as he recalled his own pregnancy. Dylan placed his ear to the bulging belly in an effort to hear the unborn child and Kareem gently ran his fingers along the curve of the nine-year-old's bulge and continued farther down to stroke his soft, slender, still ice-cold pricklet which quickly responded to the Arab boy's gentle touch. Dylan giggled as the inquisitive dicklet began to rise and with a grin Kareem lowered his head and slipped his lips about the six-year-old's limp little cocklet "to warm it up too." Smiling up at Klaus, Joey reached over and ran his fingers over the young boy's hip and as the eight-year-old Polish boy obligingly rolled over and presented his buttocks to him, Joey caressed the smooth buns, which, after a week in the sun, were beginning to lose the tan line that set them off. Curious, Joey raised himself on an elbow and bending over, tried rimming for the first time in his life, and found he enjoyed it. Klaus, finding himself with his head at Kareem's crotch, picked up the eight-year-old boy's dusky, circumcised cock and slipped it in his mouth.

Pulling apart Klaus's smooth ass cheeks to better expose his butthole, Joey pressed his lips against it and wormed his tongue inside. The perversity of what he was doing caused the nine-year-old choir boy's limp cocklet to swell even faster in the young Moslem boy's fingers which were still gently and slowly stroking it, his dark brown hands contrasting sharply with the shy Catholic boy's pale pink penis. At the same time as the pregnant nine-year-old's cock was swelling in his fingers, so was the little cocklet of the six-year-old Welsh boy swelling in his mouth. He sucked on the tender noodle gently as he tightened his lips and slowly slipped them down the boy's slender shaft, pushing his foreskin back to expose his little cherry-red bulb. Dylan, finding himself facing Joey's backside, caressed the boy's pale, pink bottom. Slipping his finger along the boy's ass crack, he stopped at his asshole and wiggled the tip of his finger against it, causing the nine-year-old boy to squirm.

Withdrawing his finger and slipping it in his mouth, Dylan worked up a mouth of spittle and sloshed it about his finger. Reaching back over to the unaware pregnant boy, the six-year-old again pressed the tip of his finger against his anus, but this time continuing to press forward. Feeling the boy's spit-slick finger slowly penetrate him, Joey inhaled sharply, through his nose as he still had his lips tightly pressed against the asshole of the future Disciple of God. As Dylan began to finger fuck him, Joey reached around and finding Klaus's cock, he began to stroke the already half erect dick as he continued to suck and tongue his asshole. Klaus tightened his lips about Kareem's prick and began to work them up and down the thickening shaft as he played with the young Kurd's large, dark-skinned balls.

As the young boys grew hard and their blood began to speed in their veins, they rolled over on their sides to form a daisy chain, Klaus sucking Kareem who sucked Dylan who sucked Joey who completed the circle and sucked Klaus. Each boy caressed the slender thighs and compact buttocks and smooth pubes and fondled the dangling, hairless balls of the boy whose cock they were sucking, and they were in turn caressed and fondled by the boy sucking them. Young Dylan's slim fingers gently caressed Joey's protruding, white stomach and the six-year-old thought about how it had felt being pregnant, his own son now two and a half months old, as he sucked on the pregnant boy's slender cock. Joey, looking like a white, beached whale, having had to expose his body to the sun gradually to avoid being burned, sucked and bobbed his head as he worked his lips up and down Klaus's young Polish sausage, and ran his fingers over the boy's firm, compact buttocks and caressed his butthole with his middle finger.

The eight-year-old readily opened his sphincter and Joey tentatively slipped the tip of his middle finger into the boy's rectum as Dylan had done earlier to him. Klaus tensed with delight and pushed his ass back, driving Joey's finger deeper up his rectum as he caressed Kareem's dark thighs, darkened even more with a week running naked in the Wyoming sun, and sucked even harder on the boy's large, dusky cock while he rolled the boy's dark, dangling balls in his fingers with his other hand. As Joey began to finger fuck him, Klaus clenched his anus about the boy's slender finger and swallowed the cock-flavoured spittle that had filled his mouth. Kareem inhaled deeply with growing lust as he felt Klaus fondling his nuts, and he swallowed his own cock-flavoured saliva as he sucked on Dylan's stiff, slender cocklet. His blood had raced and his groin had ached as he'd listened to the six-year-old Welsh boy singing and he'd imagined making love to him, and now his blood was racing even faster and his groin aching even harder as he did so.

And so the four young boys, stark naked and aroused, sucked and were sucked there in the woods, enjoying bringing each other pleasure as much as they were enjoying the throbbing and tingling of their young cocklets and the itching of their buttholes and throbbing of their rectums. They paused occasionally to rest their jaws and tongues and to enjoy the physical stimulation of their assholes and pricks, bringing each other to the brink of orgasm several times but all wanting to enjoy their pleasure longer and despite the temptation never bringing their partner off. At one point they all collapsed and lay back in the warm sun, their little stiff pricklets pointing up at the cloudless sky, their chests rising and falling as they caught their breath before resuming their sex play.

Kareem, concerned about his health, asked Joey how he was feeling, and the nine-year-old choir boy's reply, "horny as fuck," caused the four boys, Joey included, to giggle and chuckle in amusement. "Then how would you like to be fucked by this?" the eight-year-old goatherd asked, wagging his dusky-brown, spit-slickened cock at the pale, three-month pregnant boy.

"Slowly," the choir boy replied with an impish grin, causing all four to giggle and laugh again.

Getting to his hands and knees in a doggy position and assuring the others it was all right in his condition, telling them his lover had fucked the shit out of him the night before in their motorhome, Joey looked invitingly over at Kareem, his blue-green eyes moist and half-lidded with desire. The handsome, young Iraqi grinned, his white teeth contrasting with his dark brown skin, darkened even more after running around naked for the past week in the hot Wyoming sun. He knelt behind the pregnant boy and spitting on his middle finger, he slipped it up the boy's asshole and goosed him, preparing him to be penetrated by his stiff, anxiously wagging cock that was barely longer and thicker than the boy's finger. Working up several gobs of spit and drooling over his stiff, dark brown organ, he placed the tip against the eager American boy's pucker and pushed forward. Joey immediately pushed out with his stomach, opening his sphincter. Having been fucked regularly by his adult lover for the past three months, sometimes several times a day, he had no difficulty accepting the dick of the eight-year-old, and to Kareem's delight, despite having been fucked regularly and by an adult-sized cock, the nine-year-old boy's asshole was just as tight as had he been a virgin.

Burying his cock as far up the young choir boy's ass as he could, Kareem reached around the pregnant boy's protruding stomach and slipped his fingers about his stiff, aching cocklet and slowly stroked it, causing the boy to arch his back with the pleasure of having his ass fucked and his cock jerked. The doctor hadn't said so, but there was no doubt in the young boy's mind that it was sexual exercises like this that had caused his skeletal muscles to begin regenerating, and there was no doubt in his mind that with continued practice the deformities of his spine and torso would be corrected too.

Getting to his knees, young Dylan shuffled over to the pair and offered his stiff little cocklet to the pregnant choir boy, and Joey eagerly opened his mouth and slipped his lips about the knob of Dylan's stiff cock. The sight of the curly-haired Welsh boy's smooth, compact six-year-old buttocks caused Klaus's groin to ache, and the horny young Pole got to his knees and shuffled over behind him. He caressed Dylan's delightfully smooth buttocks as Joey began to slip his lips up and down the young boy's little cocklet and as Kareem worked his aching, throbbing cock in and out of Joey's tight hole. Slipping his middle finger up Dylan's smooth butt crack until it reached his butt hole, Klaus caressed it with the tip of his finger and immediately felt the tender pucker open eagerly. Bending over and working up a gob of spit, he puckered his lips and as his spittle drooled out of his mouth he directed the pendant so it struck Dylan's backside and oozed down the six-year-old's crack to his winking butthole.

Placing the tip of his stiff, aching cock against the boy's hole, he allowed his spittle to flow around it. More spittle oozed out of his mouth and flowed down the slime pendant to join the first gob, flowing into the young boy's winking asshole and over the Polish boy's stiff sausage. Grasping the six year old's hips firmly, Klaus slowly eased his hips forward and his stiff, aching cocklet slowly eased up the boy's eager rectum until his smooth pubes were pressing against the young Welsh boy's firm, warm buttocks.

And so the four boys resumed their sex play, Kareem doggy fucking and jerking off Joey as he sucked off Dylan who was being eagerly fucked by Klaus. The two eight-year-old boys, one a blond, blue-eyed, lightly tanned Polish Catholic and the other a black haired, brown-eyed, dark-skinned Moslem Kurd from Iraq, thrust their hips to and fro in unison, delighting in the throbbing and itching of their swollen cocklets and in the rectal heat and moistness of the two tight young assholes they were fucking. The two young boys being fucked, one nine and the other six, one American and the other Welsh, both horny as fuck, arched their backs in shear delight, their rectums throbbing hotly and their burning assholes stretched open by the stiff, preteen pricklets throbbing inside them. To both of them sex was new and a mystery and an undescribable delight, and having their assholes stuffed with a young boy's stiff, throbbing cocklet was just as enjoyable as having their own aching young cocklets surrounded by a hot, moist asshole of another boy. And as the pregnant nine-year-old eagerly sucked on the curly-headed six-year-old's little pricklet, he savoured the unique taste and fragrance of cock and sucked on the boy's prick with as much pleasure as the six-year-old was receiving having his little dicky sucked.

Young and uninhibited, taught that the pleasures throbbing between their legs were to be enjoyed and cherished, the four boys grunted and gasped with delight and openly relished the pleasures they were feeling, knowing that they were giving equally what they were receiving. Unfettered by the guilt and hangups most boys their age already had laid upon them, the four sought and welcomed the pleasure their young cocklets brought and willingly gave the pleasure they knew their bodies brought others. As the pressure deep in their loins increased, the two eight-year-old boys began to thrust their hips to and fro faster and more forcefully, the young Kurd practically knocking the pregnant nine-year-old over in his enthusiasm and lust, and the young Polish boy savagely ramming his body against the slender six-year-old and driving him forward and into the face of the boy sucking him.

The two boys being fucked responded to this battering by rocking their bodies to and fro, adding to the momentum begun by the boys fucking them, and tightening and relaxing their sphincters, desperately riding the two throbbing cocks up their asses. The nine-year-old boy sucked hard on the six-year-old's slender cocklet, his cheeks sunken and his blue-green eyes closed as he worked his lips up and down the boy's slender shaft and over his exposed, little, cherry-sized knob, and the six-year-old thrust his body to and fro, ramming his aching little swollen cocklet in the older boy's face as he rode up on the throbbing cock shoved up his ass, and easing his tingling, numb cock back out as he rode back down on the eight year old's cock.

Thrusting and gasping, their bodies tense and flushed with sex fever, their cocklets swollen and numb, the four approached their orgasms as their campground host, Michael, emerged from the forest and looked down from the outcropping of rock. The scene below him was, to the young naked naturalist, beautiful to behold, four young, naked, preteen boys on the brink of orgasm. His breath quickened as he stood there watching them unobserved, as the boys began to twitch and quiver and buck with that greatest pleasure a boy can know. Kareem and Klaus grasped the smooth, compact asses of the two boys they were fucking and trust their hips to and fro savagely as their orgasms hit, their peeholes burning and their knobs feeling as if they'd been rubbed raw, shards of pain and pleasure piercing their swollen flesh and their groins as their bodies twitched and their limbs jerked uncontrollably with their powerful dry orgasms.

Young Dylan threw his head back and clenched his eyes with the wide-mouthed sweet pain of his own orgasm, his little six-year-old dicky no longer or thicker than a man's thumb throbbing with delight as he pumped it in and out of the mouth sucking it in a futile attempt to ease the pain or increase the pleasure, he never knew which. And young Joey eagerly sucked on the throbbing little cock in his mouth, knowing the pleasure the six-year-old was feeling, and thrust his own hips to and fro, riding the throbbing cock deep up his rectum and knowing also the pleasure the young Kurd was feeling while his own cocklet, tightly grasped by the young Kurd's slender, dark brown fingers, throbbed and burned with that overwhelming pleasure of preteen orgasm.

Their chests heaving, their eyes glazed, their mouths hanging slack jawed as they gasped for air, the four disentangled and collapsed on the grass, their young cocklets still jutting out from their bodies. Michael turned to discretely slip back into the forest before he was discovered, not wanting to intrude on this private and special moment, when he heard his name called. He hesitated, debating if he should pretend he had not heard when the thickly accented Polish voice called out again. He turned and stepping back onto the outcropping, he smiled down at the four boys and waved. They waved back and motioned for him to join them, all four, and admittedly delighted they'd seen him and called him to join them, he climbed part way down the outcropping, and then stepping to the edge, raised his arms and dived into the deep blue pool below him.

The water was ice cold and shocking and delightful after hiking in the hot late afternoon sun. He'd made the dive many times before, though never before from that height, never quite having the nerve despite knowing the depth of the pool and that there was nothing hidden beneath the surface. His slender, muscular body cut deep down into the chill water, deeper than he'd ever gone but still not to the bottom. He turned slowly, as if in slow motion, and began to stroke his way back to the surface. It was not the jump that had held him back before, but not knowing how deep he'd sink, and if he would have the strength and air to return to the top. Now, his lungs beginning to ache and feeling as if they were about to burst, he wondered if he'd acted foolishly. His arms stroked harder, faster, driving him upward, his lungs aching still harder, his heart pounding, until at last he burst through the surface. Gasping for breath, he bobbed and splashed in the pool, joyous at this new level of achievement. He headed to the four wide-eyed and relieved boys, his muscular forearms and thick, muscular legs easily driving him to them in a half dozen strokes. As he drew himself up out of the water, and walked over and sat down with them, his thick, shoulder-long, soaked hair trickling water down his muscular, sculptured body, he was met with exclamations how they'd been sure he'd drowned and of admiration at his bravery and strength.

He apologized for having intruded on them and they all assured him that it was no intrusion. He said that this was one of his most favourite places and that he came here often to enjoy the quiet and solitude and the beauty of the place, and they said that it was going to be one of their most favourite places now also. Kareem looked at the older boy admiringly and observed that he was also something of beauty, and they all commented on his firm and muscular body, much to his embarrassment, and to his delight. Dylan asked to feel his biceps and Michael accommodated him by flexing his right arm, and the others took a turn to squeeze the hard, baseball-sized bulge also, again to Michael's delight.

Joey observed that his armpits had sprouted hair and he'd gotten curlies since he'd seen him last, and Michael grinned, as proud of the fine silky tufts of pit hair and the sparse bush of curly hair above his dick as he was of his biceps. They looked down admiringly at his fine, curly hairs and at his thick, uncut, preteen cock, and bombarded him with questions about coming, how it felt, how often he did it, and which way he liked getting his nuts off the best. He happily answered all their questions, and admitted he liked jacking or being sucked the most because it was awesome to watch it squirting out of him. He didn't mention he and Ray often preceded and accompanied both with water sports, but he couldn't help imaging engaging in such foreplay with the four of them, and being twelve and having reached puberty only three weeks ago, his cock immediately responded to his thoughts.

Kareem noticed, and with the attention of the other three drawn to it, despite all his attempts to stop it, his cock decided at that moment to show off also. The boys all giggled as they watched it continue to swell all on its own, and as one they decided to help it along. Kareem reached out and stroked the twelve year old's thigh, and Klaus caressed his chest and tweaked his nipples. Joey skipped his fingers lightly over his buttocks, and Dylan leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Of course he hadn't needed their help, and his young cock quickly sprang to attention as the others began to swell once again too. The others followed Dylan's lead and began to smother the muscular, handsome preteen with kisses and licking his darkly-tanned body, leaving spit trails behind their hot, wet tongues to be crossed by other tongues leaving like trails.

Dylan kissed and licked his right breast and Joey the left, running their tongues over the smooth, muscular pecs and teasing his large, sensitive nipples which quickly stiffened and caused the twelve-year-old to squirm with arousal. Klaus kissed and licked one thigh while Kareem did likewise to the other, their hot tongues and soft lips brushing against the inside of his thighs and causing his now stiff cock to twitch. Raising his legs so his butt was in the air and his stiff cock pointing down at his face, Klaus nuzzled the twelve year old's large balls, sparsely covered with fine new hairs, and inhaled deeply, delighting in their musky fragrance, while Kareem pulled apart the boy's smooth, tanned asscheeks and ran his tongue up the boy's still hairless ass crack, stopping at his tender butthole. Stretching it open, he teased it with his hot, wet tongue and wormed it inside. Dylan and Joey switched positions, Dylan running his tongue now over the twelve-year-old's spit-drenched left breast and Joey brushing his dripping left breast with his lips. Puckering his lips, he inhaled, sucking in Dylan's spit from Michael's breast and then gave the boy's solid, six pack abs a wet, sloppy kiss. Spittle, his and Joey's, filled the boy's belly button and with his ass raised in the air it ran down his tanned torso back toward his chest. His stiff cock, aiming directly at his face, jerked wildly and a dollop of pre-cum oozed out the tip.

Lowering him back down onto his back on the grass, Kareem ran his tongue about the boy's stiff, upright prick, spiralling from the fine new hairs at the base up around the shaft, leaving a spit trail like a candy cane stripe to the exposed, flanged knob, the boy's foreskin having slid back as his cock had become erect, and eliciting a second droplet of pre-cum to join the first. The young Kurd flicked the clear, sweet droplet up with his tongue, leaving a long sticky strand from the tip to his lips as he savoured the choice droplet of boy nectar. Joey and Dylan fastened their lips to the boy's tender, swollen nipples and sucked on them gently and ran their hot tongues over the now rigid buds. Having given birth to his baby son Saul seven months ago, the twelve-year-old was still nursing and Dylan and Joey were rewarded with a squirt of sweet boy milk as another droplet of clear nectar formed at the tip of Michael's cock. They, like Kareem and Klaus, were erect and their little cocklets jerked with arousal at their first taste of warm breast milk. The two immediately pulled back, their lips and Michael's nipples glistening with a white film of milk, and abashed, they apologized, not having intended on drawing out his milk, neither realizing that their foreplay would do so.

"That's all right," Michael gasped, his voice cracking. "I nursed Saul before I went walking so you might as well finish what's left. I can make him fresh."

The two young boys glanced at each other uncertainly and with a gleam in their eyes, they swooped back down and fastening their lips to the boy's irritated nipples, they sucked again, this time with another purpose, and again they were rewarded with another squirt of warm breast milk and another droplet of pre-cum oozed from Michael's twitching cock. Klaus swooped down this time, flicking up the tasty treat with his tongue and savouring it before descending again to swirl his tongue about the boy's exposed knob and back down his shaft to his downy balls as he and Kareem stroked the boy's smooth, muscular thighs, causing him to moan and his cock to wag impatiently.

The four exchanged positions, the two eight-year-old boys caressing their young campground host's firm breasts and flicking their tongues at the swollen, protruding nipples, the two rosebuds a dark brown on a darkly tanned chest and each topped with a film of breast milk. Their hot eager lips fastened about those irritated rosebuds and they sucked in, drinking the boy's warm boy milk, the two having only recently weaned their own sons off breast milk and recalling the erotic, stimulating feeling of having a babe at their breasts. Michael's cock leaked big time and Dylan and Joey took turns flicking up the sweet nectar from the boy's twitching cock, their own nipples burning and stiff, Dylan's breasts plump and full of milk, his own son only two and a half months old and needing regular feedings, and Joey, entering the trimester of his pregnancy, having the small, budding breasts of an adolescent girl and extra-sensitive nipples that seemed to always be erect.

Michael reached down to grasp his aching cock and bring it relief, but Kareem caught his hand and held it back. "Unh-unh, we'll have none of that," he teased.

Michael's left hand headed down to do the job as the right tried to break free but Klaus similarly grabbed it and pinned it down. "Unh-unh," he said with a grin, "no touching. That's all ours."

"Oh fuck," gasped Michael as he tried to free his arms, the two eight-year-old boys putting his biceps to the test, "oh God, suck my cock or wank it or something then, anything! I gotta get one off! Do it!" he groaned. "Anybody!"

The twelve-year-old squirmed on the grass and arched his back, his nipples burning hotly and his stiff cock aching to be taken. He strained to reach his cock and it took all the strength of the two boys to hold down his arms, the strong, muscular youth spending his days hiking the mountains and riding the horse trails in the back country in the summers and skiing them in the winters. Holding down his arms, neither could tend to his aching, throbbing, preteen boner and it twitched and wagged desperately as he thrashed out with his legs and twisted and turned and desperately strained to will himself off.

To make matter worse, Dylan and Joey, their lips wet and glistening with breast milk, slipped down and with each sitting on a leg to pin it down, they bent over and tickled the boy's aching cock with feathery touches of their lips, causing still more pre-cum to ooze out the tip and causing Michael to thrash even more desperately. They ran their tongues up the shaft, one boy on each side and shared the treat waiting at the tip. Releasing Michael's arms, Kareem and Klaus joined them, one running his tongue up along the top of the boy's cock and the other running his tongue up the underside to the split of his flanged knob and on up the funnel to the tip where they too shared in the sticky globule freshly emerging from the gaping little peehole.

The twelve-year-old was impressively hung for his age, his cock two fingers thick and almost five inches [12½ cm] long, and like all boys who'd been receiving the unique blow job administered by their infant sons, his nuts were huge. Having reached puberty, his had darkened these past weeks and were covered with fine hairs. At the moment they had contracted and swollen and were now drawn up beneath his cock and were the size of a plum. The handsome youth tensed and arched his body, raising his rump off the grass as his aching cock was licked by four hot, wet tongues, taking turns to swirl up his shaft and about the blood-engorged knob of his madly itching organ and then all four licking up from the hairy base to the tip, encasing the throbbing prick with hot, moist tongue.

His breath coming faster and faster, the boy closed his eyes in ecstasy and threw back his head, his jaw slack and spittle oozing out the corners as if he'd gone mad. "Yes! Oh fuck yes!" he screamed as his large nuts contracted and he felt the still new and awesome sensation of his hot cum racing up the core of his benumbed cock, having only begun squirting less than three weeks ago. The first spurted up into the air and fell back to his knob, spattering the faces of the four surprised boys. A second spurted right after the first, this time falling back to strike Michael in the middle of the chest in a runny, whitish glob the consistency of the white of a raw egg. The third struck his stomach in a long milky streamer. Recovering, Kareem positioned himself above the throbbing flesh fountain and caught the squirt in his mouth. Klaus was not as expert and caught only half, the other half hanging from his lower lip down to his chin where it hung for a moment in a long pendant before breaking and landing in a sticky gob directly on his own erect cock. Joey missed altogether and it arched back and oozed down his swollen, pregnant stomach, and Dylan found his face laced from hair to chin with the next shot of cum.

As Ray had mentioned, as a result of the blow jobs he'd received from his infant son, instead of shooting a half dozen squirts in rapid succession in a matter of five or ten seconds, Michael shot off as if in slow motion, each squirt following the other but slow enough to enjoy each squirt as it raced up the core of his throbbing cock and out the burning tip. And Ray had not exaggerated about the volume. Again as the result of his infant son's spittle, his huge balls produced not a tablespoon, but almost two cups. The only thing he had in common with normal boys his age was that having just entered puberty, his cum was still thin and watery compared to the thicker globules he'd produce with maturity. That, and the undescribable awe of the pleasure and the miracle of coming that a pubescent boy feels when he first begins squirting.

His four young partners jostled each other for each squirt erupting out of the young boy's cock like four puppies fighting over choice teat, and what they could not catch in their eager, gaping mouths they caught in the face or the chest, and what they could not catch spattered back down on the heaving, flushed body of the handsome, muscular twelve year old. Leaving the others to fight over Michael's spurting cock, Klaus bent over and lapped up the creamy puddles spattering Michael's chest, only to have his exposed back spattered with hot, runny boy juice. Giggling, Dylan smeared the sticky, slimy cum over the eight year old's back and wiped his sticky fingers off on the boy's smooth rump. In retaliation Klaus turned and held the six year old's head over the still fountaining cock which squirted a load up the boy's right nostril and along his nose to his eyebrow where it clung in a thick glob. With his right eye closed, the curly-headed boy licked the slime as it oozed out of his nose and over his upper lip into his mouth and as he flicked off the globule clinging to his eyebrow, he inadvertently flicked it into Michael's gaping mouth.

Their bodies streaked with streamers of cum, the five boys smeared the fresh slime over each other's naked body and they eagerly embraced and licked the slime from each other's face and chest and where it hung in a pearly pendant from their own stiff little cocklets as if they themselves had come. Two cups of hot, runny, sticky boy slime, two fifths of a cup of slime for each boy, enough to drink and savour and to slime each other from head to toe. After the wild frenzy of ejaculation, they embraced and rubbed their slime-streaked bodies against each other. They licked the cum from each other's ears and off each other's smooth cheeks, their hair streaked and matted with their young host's slime. They embraced and kissed joyously, their naked bodies anointed with the life juice of the young adolescent, their lips tasting of fresh cum and their earthy breaths smelling of musk as the sharp fragrance of the ponderosa pines surrounding them was replaced with the mushroomy aroma of a young boy's semen.

It had been another full and adventurous day, and as one by one the exhausted campers crawled into their beds that night, they again all had a lot to think about, and they knew, a lot to be thankful for, and a lot to look forward to, knowing that whatever hurdles lay ahead of them, they'd meet them, with the support of each other. With the contentment that comes from a clear conscience and the security of being surrounded by friends, one by one they dropped off to a peaceful sleep, and for five boys, totally spent from their late afternoon activities and happily snuggled up to their lovers, dreams of the future.

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