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Hardcore sex story for your enjoyment....

 
                                                  
                                                  

    





 

                                                  
                                                   
                                 Samesex/summdrm2.mb
                                          Summer Dreams - 2
                                             Chapter 7.
                  Almost as soon as I pulled onto the road my son leaned forward 
                 from the back seat, placing his hands on the console between the 
                two front seats. He looked out the windscreen silently, sucking on 
                   his bottom lip thoughtfully, the white tips of his baby teeth 
                visible as he turned his small head and looked up at me. I glanced 
                  sideways at the boy as I drove down the road. Kelly was a very 
                 handsome boy but not like Dylan for whom the word 'beautiful' is 
                 entirely appropriate. "You have a good day, Kelly?" I asked as I 
                                         turned the corner.
                    "Huh huh. I had fun with Joey...." he replied, then looked 
                forward again. "Dad,...", he began, then hesitated, "... Dad I like 
                                             Dylan,..."
                  I breathed out slowly, remembering, dreaming, my thoughts only 
                 on the beautiful twelve-year-old boy that had suddenly come into 
                          my life. "Yeah,... I know,... I like Dylan too."
                   "Dad,... I wish,... well I wish Dylan was my brother," Kelly 
                                           said quietly.
                    I nodded, taking my right hand away from the steering wheel 
                 and playfully ruffling my son's hair for a moment. The boy's hair 
                 was silky soft, even softer than Dylan's, light brown with golden 
                strands that had been bleached by the sun. "That would be nice,... 
                  I guess. You'd certainly have someone to play with," I answered.
                      "He's so nice,... like when he gave me his ice-cream at 
                 dinner." I nodded, placing my hand back on the wheel as I turned 
                the corner. "Daddy,... you love Dylan don't you?..." I nodded again 
                   as I glanced down and saw that Kelly was looking at me shyly, 
                   curiously, "But you love him different to how you love me, or 
                   mommy," the boy stated with an insight that was well advanced 
                beyond his nearly-seven years. Like Dylan, my son was a bright boy, 
                 both boys were highly intelligent, both destined for college, for 
                                         a good profession.
                    "Yes, I guess so, more like how I love mommy than anything 
                                   else I s'pose," I said gently.
                     "But,.... well Dylan's a boy,... and well,... isn't that 
                  different?" he persisted hesitantly as he tried to sort out the 
                                      differences for himself.
                   I knew then that I had to be honest with Kelly, I needed him 
                to understand what I felt for Dylan, why I loved him the way I did. 
                  "Sometimes,...", I began then stopped, breathed out, then began 
                 again. "You remember a while ago we talked about friends and how 
                  sometimes you just like one person more than another at school."
                     "Yeah! It's because everyone's is different, and you like 
                                things differently," Kelly answered.
                    "That's right. And some things you like a lot, some things 
                  just a little bit or not at all." Kelly nodded in agreement. "I 
                want you to know that most men don't like boys the same way that I 
                 like Dylan, they like boys but not in the same way. And most boys 
                 that are Dylan's age like men, but not in the same way that Dylan 
                  likes me," I said then breathed out, wondering where to go next.
                   "That makes you and Dylan kinda special, but,..." Kelly added.
                  "Most men and boys like girls,... or women,... in the way that 
                             Dylan and I like each other," I continued.
                  Kelly shrugged, "I don't like girls," he said with conviction, 
                             then added, "They're no fun to play with!"
                    Laughing, I ruffled his hair again, "You're not even seven 
                yet. You probably will when you're older, Kelly. There is probably 
                 not a single boy your age in the whole world who likes girls. But 
                  by the time most boys are about Dylan's age they begin to think 
                 girls are 'cool'. Later on, when they're older, they get married."
                      Kelly shrugged again, "I'm not getting married when I'm 
                older!" he retorted. "Doesn't Dylan like girls? Maybe he isn't old 
                                            enough yet?"
                      My heart turned as the thought clamored in my mind. The 
                 possibility that Dylan's affection was merely temporary, a brief 
                interlude before his interest was transformed to the opposite sex, 
                 had never occurred to me. I felt an instant panic growing inside 
                me, a voice shouting in my head as I considered, then tried to deny 
                 the possibility. "Maybe,..." I said quietly, breaking the silence 
                  that had filled the car for long terrible seconds. "But I,... I 
                 don't think so,... He might change as he gets older,... some boys 
                 go through a stage at Dylan's age,...but they grow out of it in a 
                  few years,... but I don't think so,... he might,... but I don't 
                   think he will,..." I said hopefully, praying that I was right.
                       "But,... well why doesn't he like girls then?" Kelly 
                                             continued.
                     "I,... I'm not sure,... I don't think anyone really knows 
                why,... but some boys,... some men are like that." I breathed out, 
                turning the corner onto our street, then added as I slowed the car 
                down, "I think some boys are born like that. Some just grow up like 
                               that,... liking boys more than girls."
                       "Do you think Dylan was born like that?" Kelly asked 
                                             curiously.
                   "I don't know, maybe,... I think so. A lot of boys don't even 
                   realize that they're different until they're a bit older that 
                Dylan. Some even pretend to like girls because other boys will make 
                                           fun of them."
                       "Oh! That isn't very nice," Kelly said. "They're just 
                 different,... Dylan can't help being the way he is." I opened the 
                 garage door with the remote control, stopping the car briefly in 
                 the driveway, before driving in and parking next to the Corvette. 
                 Kelly scrambled forward and climbed out my door. "I hope I don't 
                 like girls when I grow up,... I want to be just like Dylan when I 
                                             grow up."
                     I stifled a grin, wondering if Kelly knew what that would 
                 mean. Until today I had never thought of Kelly as being sexy, but 
               as he stood there in the garage, waiting while I removed the remains 
                of the box of goodies, I saw him in a different light. When he was 
                 older, more self-assured and confident, he'd be a lot like Dylan. 
                 I placed my hand on his small shoulder, carrying the box under my 
                         arm, as we walked out of the garage to the house.
                   I had Kelly go upstairs and get ready for bed and I spent the 
                  new few minutes packing things away, then stood by the sink, my 
                   mind going back and forth over what had happened at the farm, 
                wondering whether Dylan would, in fact, grow out of it. I hoped not 
                  but then I had a vested interest. "Heh Dad," Kelly called from 
                                upstairs, breaking into my thoughts.
                        "Yeah I'm coming tiger," I shouted back, my reverie 
                  interrupted. I went into the hall and up the stairs. Kelly was 
                standing at the top of the stairs, naked except for his underpants, 
                 there was a small rounded bump in the V between his slender legs, 
                 tanned from long summer's days in the sun. He smiled slowly. "You 
                                     done your teeth?" I asked.
                     Kelly nodded. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Dad?" he 
                                               asked.
                  I glanced at the boy as I came up to him, then reached out and 
                 lovingly stroked his back, "Yeah,... I guess so. But no wriggling 
                 around, okay? It's way past your bedtime, you have to go straight 
                 to sleep," I said, postponing the long talk that I needed to have 
                        with him. Kelly nodded. "Where's you pj's?" I asked.
                   "Do I have to?" he answered, following me into the bedroom. I 
                  turned back to the boy, seeing a small shy smile forming on his 
                face. I shrugged. The smile broadened, flashing perfect white baby-
                teeth, a gap on one side that had yet to be replaced. The boy took 
                  a few running steps and leaped onto the bed, then slid his legs 
                    under the sheet. In that one simple motion I thought he was 
                remarkably like Dylan. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, 
                turning off the bedroom lights as I went. The image of Dylan, just 
                a few hours earlier running into the bedroom, leaping onto the bed, 
                 of the things that followed, was paramount in my mind. I lingered 
                  in the bathroom for as long as I could, then came back into the 
                   bathroom. Kelly stirred, barely awake, "Dad,... I'm glad you 
                love,... Dylan," he murmured sleepily. I pulled back the sheet and 
                lowered myself carefully onto the bed next to him. The boy's nearly 
                 naked body was curled up and very dark against the bottom sheet. 
                  He looked small and fragile and he turned slightly pressing his 
                  warm body against mine. I caressed the boy's forehead, brushing 
                 back his silky hair, trying to imagine what Dylan was doing, then 
                 gently, ever so lightly I began to run my fingers up and down his 
                           back and shoulders as he dropped of to sleep.
                   I lay awake for a long time that night, for several hours my 
                   thoughts were only of Dylan, wondering, dreaming, thinking. I 
                 returned the memory of Dylan's beautiful, slender body, the ease 
                 with which he swam, his lithe young body moving urgently, hungry 
                   for excitement, his passionate kiss as he got of the car, the 
                  overpowering feelings of love that I had when we were joined as 
                one, of the wonderful sensation I'd experienced inside him. Finally 
                                      I drifted off to sleep.
                   Kelly woke me up by wriggling. He always does that and it's a 
                  good reason not to sleep in the same bed as a nearly-seven-year-
                old boy. It was just after eight o'clock. For a moment I lay there, 
                   trying to revisit the last fragments of my dream, putting the 
                 pieces back together. It had involved Dylan, of course. We'd been 
                 doing something but I wasn't certain what it had been. He held my 
                  hand, we were walking, his hand was so small, and warm. He was 
                 teasing me,... Kelly wriggled again, insistently, squirming. "Go 
                'sleep,..." I mumbled. He wriggled again, sticking his sharp little 
               elbow into my ribs, "Go 'sleep,... or go play in your room," I said, 
                     the last vestiges of my dream disappearing, the fragments 
                                           interrupted. 
                   "It's morning,... time to get up," the boy chirped in a sing-
                                            song voice. 
                   "It's Sunday, you dodo,..." I sighed, stretching out into the 
                 cooler part of the bed, and rolling away from the wriggling boy. 
                                    "And stop wriggling around!"
                   "I'm trying to get comfortable!" he retorted. "... Dad,... do 
                             you think we'll see Dylan today," he asked
                   "Huh,... Oh I don't know, maybe," I replied, knowing that any 
                        chance of continued sleep was gone for good. "Why?"
                    "I hope so," Kelly said, "'cause he's fun, and I like him".
                      "We'll see,... I guess", I said with a sigh, wondering, 
                hoping, then adding, "I hope so too. Now stop wriggling,... and if 
                      you stick that elbow in my back one more time, you die."
                  There was a burst of giggles, then a moment's hesitation, then 
                a hard sharp force in my back, right below the shoulder blade. That 
                did it and I twisted over, pulling the sheet down, as I grabbed the 
                  boy and began to tickle him furiously. He giggled hysterically, 
                kicked and struggled, squealed in delight as we wrestled. I pinned 
                 him down, made him promise to behave, then rolled off, only to be 
                 confronted by another attack from my nearly naked son. We tumbled 
                 and rolled together, scrambling over each other as we grappled in 
                 playful combat, until breathless, and pretending defeat I flopped 
                 onto my back. Kelly straddled me triumphantly, "Kelly Weston, the 
                    winner," he shrieked, raising his arms high above his head, 
               stretching the skin of his chest until his ribs stood out. I grinned 
                at the laughing boy sitting astride my hips, our battle temporarily 
                                             suspended.
                      "My penis is hard like Dylan's was. See!" he announced, 
                  looking downward. My eyes followed his. The boy's erection was 
                 unmistakable, the cotton of his underpants stretched tightly over 
                the small, but very hard projection between his outstretched legs. 
                He giggled, his right arm coming down from above his head, his hand 
                  reaching, fingers stretched out, touching the taut clothe, the 
                     slight quiver as his fingertips felt the pleasant warmth 
                 underneath. I closed my eyes trying to blot out the thrill that I 
                 felt, the surge of excitement almost as intense as what I'd felt 
                for Dylan. Then suddenly unable to bear the contact with his body, 
                   I lifted forty-eight pounds of boy tossed him onto his back, 
                   reached down and pulled the sheet upward over my waist. Kelly 
                 looked at me curiously, lying back on the bed, his fingers gently 
                  stroking, shamelessly touching his hard penis. "Why does it do 
                                          that?" he asked.
                    "Huh," I said absently, glad that my own groin was covered, 
                   knowing that my body had already begun to respond of it's own 
                                              accord.
                   "Why does my penis get hard,... like Dylan's?" he asked again.
                  I breathed out, swallowing, willing my arousal to fade, trying 
                 to clear my mind of the frightening possibility. "Huh,... oh,... 
                 it's because it feels good. Every boy's penis does that,... gets 
                hard. When you get excited, sometimes,... excited because you feel 
                good,... then blood rushes into your penis, and makes it stand up."
                    "It's so hard, but," Kelly observed, his fingers squeezing, 
                 testing the firmness, "It feels a lot bigger too," he said in awe.
                     "That's the way it's supposed to be. Like if you filled a 
                 balloon with water, it'd get bigger wouldn't it, and when it was 
                  really full it'd be kind of hard when you pushed against it," I 
                                              replied.
                  Kelly nodded, "Yeah,... I s'pose. What if it breaks, or bursts 
                                    or something but?" he asked.
                    I laughed, "It's not going to burst. If you leave it alone 
                                     it'll gradually go down."
                  "Oh,... it feels good but," Kelly admitted, stroking his small 
                  erection carefully. "Does Dylan's penis feel good when it's big 
                 like this? Is that why you were rubbing it as well,... when your 
                                     penis was in his bottom?"
                    I smirked at the boy's uninhibited curiosity "I expect so. 
                  It's supposed to feel good. And yes, I was rubbing his penis to 
                                        make him feel good."
                   "It feels better the more I touch it," Kelly volunteered. He 
                  giggled, his fingers discovering the increased pleasure as they 
                     enclosed the small hot shaft under the soft cotton of his 
                                            underpants.
                     "It feels even better if you take your underpants off," I 
                grinned, "But that's something that a boy does by himself, or with 
                                 someone that he likes very much."
                               "Like you and Dylan?" Kelly prompted.
                     I nodded, "It's called masturbating by the way...." Kelly 
                   nodded, his fingers sliding up and down over the short raised 
                  elongation in his underpants that pointed upward to his navel, 
                  growing slightly smaller as it went. It was perhaps a half-inch 
                  high, the length of his penis impossible to determine since his 
                  testicles formed part of the shape. I smiled, fascinated by the 
                   boy's discovery of his own capacity for pleasure. His little 
                 fingers moved faster. "It feels good doesn't it?" I added gently.
                     Kelly barely noticed me, "Huh huh,..." he whispered. His 
                 fingers tightened, extracting even more delight, stroking on the 
                sensitive tip. "Oh!... It's making me feel funny," Kelly muttered. 
                   I raised my eyebrows and grinned, my son's arms and legs were 
                 covered with gooseflesh, the small muscles in his legs beginning 
                   to strain, lifting his groin up to meet his fluttering hand. 
                 "Can,... can I take my undies off?" he asked uncertainly after a 
                                         few more moments.
                  I wanted to say that it was 'okay', to sit back on the bed and 
                  watch, but I shook my head as my heart leaped. "It's okay to do 
                that, if you want,... but you have to go into your room to do that, 
                 okay, Kelly," I said firmly. The boy looked at me, disappointment 
                    flashing across his face, then pouting, took his hand away 
                                            reluctantly.
                   Then he shrugged, as if the interruption to his enjoyment was 
                of no importance, already forgotten. "You wanna wrestle some more?" 
                                             he asked.
                    "In a bit," I teased, "You wore me out last time," I added, 
                  watching the boy carefully. Kelly paused a minute, then lunged, 
                springing up from his reclining position and yelping as he went on 
                    the attach. I caught him in my arms, toppling the writhing, 
                giggling boy onto his belly, pressing him down into the pillows and 
                 then delivering a firm smack to his small bottom. He squealed and 
                  struggled as I let him. He knelt on the bed, grinning cheekily, 
                watching me unchallenged, considering his next point of attack. The 
                                            phone rang.
                    I shook my head, then reached over past the boy, poised for 
                 combat, and picked up the phone. The time was a little past nine 
                  o'clock and I wondered who would call at that time on a Sunday 
                   morning. I hoped it was Dylan. The voice on the other end was 
                  familiar and I recognized it quickly. "Hello, it's Diane, Diane 
                                        Brady, Dylan's mom."
                              "Hi! Good morning!" I answered brightly.
                                  "Who is it Daddy?" Kelly asked.
                   I shook my head, "Dylan's mom," I replied, then added, "I've 
                  got a pesky seven-year-old boy here who want's to know who I'm 
                                            talking to."
                  Diane answered, "No worse than a twelve-year-old boy I'm sure. 
                   I just wanted to call and thank you for taking Dylan with you 
                                  yesterday. He had a great time."
                       Kelly climbed up next to me, trying to listen to the 
                conversation but I pushed him away playfully and held him down with 
                    one hand, easily overcoming his ineffectual struggles. "No 
                   problem,... we had a great time too. He's a lot of fun.... We 
                                enjoyed having him, really we did."
                   There was silence on the other end of the line, then Diane's 
                voice again, less confident this time, "I,... I'm afraid my son has 
                          a bad case of puppy love,..." she said quietly.
                    "Huh?" I said uncertainly, nervously, waiting for the woman 
                              on the other end of the line to respond.
                   "He likes you a great deal, I guess you could call the way he 
                 feels about you 'puppy love'. He's talked about you non-stop. We 
               had a long talk last night when he got home...." She paused, waiting 
                   for my acknowledgment. I wondered what Dylan had told her. I 
                 hesitated to answer. "He's fond of you,... very fond of you," she 
                 admitted slowly. "You're,... good for him," she added, then after 
                      another pause, "I'm glad he's,... friends,...with you."
                  "Well,... I like Dylan too," I said at last. "He's an easy boy 
                            to be friends with," I added noncommittally.
                  The silence seemed endless before Diane came back, "I,... I've 
                always known that Dylan was,... different,... I think you know,... 
                  what I mean," she said hesitantly, her voice strained. Silence 
                                              again. 
                                   "I,... think so," I answered.
                    "I don't want him to grow up,... like,... some men,... like 
                 that. You're good for him,... I trust you Alex,... I'm not sure I 
                 could trust Dylan with another man,... or trust anyone else with 
                                              Dylan."
                   "Huh huh," I said weakly, barely breathing, my face flushing 
                           as a sudden hot wave of guilt spilled over me.
                     "Dylan,... told me what happened at the farm," Diane said 
                             awkwardly, her voice trembling nervously.
                                   "Oh!" I gasped in sudden fear.
                      "I,... he told me everything you understand,... I'm not 
                angry,... sooner or later that would have happened, anyway. It was 
                just a matter of time, I wish he was older, but.... I'm glad it was 
                 you,... he was safe,... and from what he said,... I think it was 
                  the right thing,... for him,... and you too." Her voice trailed 
                                                off.
                    "I love Dylan," I said honestly, "I love him a great deal."
                   "Yes, yes I know that. My son is the same way. I,... I guess 
                that's why I'm glad. I know you'll be,... gentle with him too. It's 
                 just that,... well I don't want him acting like Paul, I told you 
                 about him, he's in my department,... It isn't that he's gay, but 
                     he's with a different one every week, and he flaunts it."
                       I breathed out, trying to clear my head, fogged with 
                    disbelief, "Dylan is very special to me, Diane. This isn't 
                something that goes away quickly,... I want Dylan to know what it's 
                like,... to,... have someone he can trust." I wanted to say 'love' 
                                          but I hesitated.
                  "Yes,... I know that. From the way Dylan was talking, he's met 
                 the right person to be,... friends with..... I just wanted you to 
                know that it's okay,... that I, well I understand it, and,... well 
                       what happens between the two of you is your business."
                         "I don't know what to say, Diane," I said quietly.
                   "Anyway, Dylan's on his way over to your house. He should be 
                there soon I guess. He was worried about what you'd think,... about 
                me finding out.... Alex,... he needs you, more than ever now," she 
                 finished. I could hear the sobbing start in the second or two as 
                                      she put the phone down.
                    "What was that all about? What did Dylan's mom want?" Kelly 
                                          asked curiously.
                   "Huh?" I said, engrossed in my own thoughts, still struggling 
                in utter disbelief at what had transpired. "Huh? Oh,... Dylan's on 
                 his way over here. She was calling to say that's she's glad Dylan 
                                          is our friend."
                    "Does she know about you and Dylan making babies?" he asked 
                                cheekily, his voice teasing gently.
                     I looked up, "You little bugger, you promised that was a 
                                              secret."
                          Kelly smirked, "I haven't told anyone,... yet!"
                  "You better not either, young man," I smiled. "Besides his mom 
                knows anyway. That's what she called about, to say it was okay," I 
                                         answered happily.
                        "For you and Dylan to make babies?" Kelly persisted.
                  I laughed, tossing the pillows at my son so that he to scramble 
                 away to avoid getting hit, "It's not making babies. That takes a 
                           boy and a girl, not two boys, you know that!"
                  "Yeah, I know that, but,... well what do you call it? What you 
                                    and Dylan do?" my son asked.
                    The doorbell rang downstairs, interrupting my answer to his 
                 question and I jumped up, grabbing my dressing gown. I turned and 
                  grinned at Kelly, "Having fun!" I called back as I ran down the 
                 stairs and into the front hall. I saw Dylan standing outside the 
                 back door. He was wearing denim shorts a long-sleeved shirt, does 
                 the boy ever wear anything else? He was grinning and he waved as 
                  he saw me in my underpants, the dressing down wide open at the 
                front. I opened the door, resisting the impulse to sweep Dylan into 
                my arms, to kiss him, to carry him upstairs into my bedroom and do 
                 incredibly wonderful things to his delicious young body. I opened 
                 the door and as he passed between me and the door frame I caught 
                  the scent of his freshly shampooed hair. Standing there in the 
                morning light, slender, tanned, radiating life, grinning cheekily, 
                he was, I decided, the most wonderful, perfect person in the world. 
                 "Hi! I wasn't sure if I should use the back door," he said as if 
                                to explain his presence in my house.
                                     "Hi yourself!" I replied.
                    "I see you're up and dressed", he teased, grinning wickedly.
                   "Your mom just called," I said then waited, enjoying my game 
                         with the marvellous boy standing only a foot away.
                      "Oh?.... What did she want?" The boy asked uncertainly.
                         "We had a long talk about you," I replied honestly
                    The boy hesitated, his uncertainty building, "What did she 
                                               say?"
                  I stepped closer to Dylan and he looked up, his pale-blue eyes 
                              locked on mine, "Oh, this and that...."
                  "Come on, tell me," he insisted, his eyes sparkling. I feasted 
                my eyes on the boy, captivated by the little cleft above his upper 
                  lip, the soft cheek, so absolutely smooth, a tiny dimple at the 
                corner of his mouth, the long thin eyebrows, so blond and pale that 
                  they were barely distinguishable against the brown skin of his 
                temple. But it was the pure white of his eyes surrounding the pale 
                  sky-blue, the intense pupils, as he looked expectantly into my 
                  eyes, that held my interest the most. His golden-blond hair was 
                brushed but it had fallen forward over his forehead, his ears were 
                small and delicately sculptured. His lips were full, dark, slightly 
                  pursed as he breathed through his mouth. "Tell me," he repeated.
                  It was almost impossible not to laugh, to pull him towards me, 
               to kiss him, to tell him again and again that I loved him, but Kelly 
                interrupted. He leaned forward over the stair rail, his voice high-
                  pitched, giggling in a sing-song. "Dylan and Daddy are in love, 
                             Dylan and Daddy are in love... Hi Dylan!"
                  Dylan grinned, "Hi Kelly", he called out good naturedly to the 
                almost naked boy on the stairs. He turned back to me, smiling, "You 
                know I told her what happened don't you. You're not angry are you?" 
                 I smiled, shaking my head at the beautiful boy. "When I got home, 
                 I think we must have talked for hours. I told her we had sex and 
                    she didn't mind,... well kind of, she said she wished I was 
                 older,... but she wasn't angry that you and I did it." I nodded, 
                 watching the boy's eyes, in their own way still innocent, despite 
                 what had happened the day before. "You're not angry, are you?" he 
                                            asked again.
                   "I'm not angry but I'm starving," I finally laughed unable to 
                 hold back. I pulled Dylan to me, felt the boy's lithe body press 
                urgently forward, his arms tighten around my waist as my hands slid 
                   up and down his slender back, massaging the firm muscles, the 
                ripples of his ribs as they joined to his spine. "I missed you last 
                                  night," I whispered in his ear.
                  "I know, me too,... I tried to jerk off thinking about you,... 
                           it didn't help much," the boy whispered back.
                     "What are you guys doing?" Kelly interrupted. "You're not 
                 gonna make babies again, are you?" he added teasingly, "'cause if 
                          you are I'm goin' upstairs and watch cartoons".
                   Dylan stifled a laugh and I pulled away from the kiss we both 
                 knew was about happened, "Nothing. You can watch cartoons if you 
                 want, Kelly. I'm making waffles for breakfast," I announced. "You 
                                   hungry, kiddo?" I asked Dylan.
                      The boy shrugged, "I ate Cheerios already. Yeah, okay."
                   "You can help if you want, or go up and watch TV with Kelly, 
                take your pick," I said moving a little further back and trying to 
                 resist the temptation to take Dylan back into my arms and ravish 
                him on the spot, knowing that his soft brown boy-flesh would taste 
                       a whole lot better that waffles with real maple syrup.
                  "I'll help you, okay", he said at once, then his voice dropped 
                           conspiratorially, "I love you," he whispered.
                          "I love you too, Dylan Brady", I said quietly. 
                   Dylan followed me into the kitchen and Kelly went back up the 
                stairs. He didn't help much, in fact he did his utmost to distract 
                   me, leaning back against the sink, looking happy and content, 
                 almost smug, aware that I followed his every movement, his every 
                  word. He talked aimlessly about his bike that he'd ridden on to 
                come to my house, about how the chain was loose, but he wasn't sure 
                  how to tighten it properly, because every time it came loose. I 
               told him I'd look at it later on, after breakfast, maybe the threads 
                                         had been stripped.
                    I piled the three waffles, syrup, and three glasses of milk 
                 onto a tray and headed out of the kitchen, Dylan following right 
                  behind, still chattering incessantly. I went up to the bedroom, 
                  depositing the tray on the side table. Kelly was stretched out, 
                 lying on his belly on the floor in front of the television, still 
                 dressed only in his underpants, his legs splayed wide apart, the 
                 small bulge of his tiny testicles visible between them. I dropped 
                my dressing gown on the floor and sat back on the bed. Dylan stood 
                 near the bedroom door, looking shyly first at me, then at Kelly, 
                               both naked except for our underpants.
                   "You wanna eat on the bed here with me,... or with Kelly, on 
                 the floor?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be. Dylan took 
                  a step closer, his eyes riveted on my briefs, knowing what the 
                    prominent bulge was. He could feel his own penis, swelling 
                instantly, protruding outwards into the confinement of his shorts. 
                  "If you want, you can take off your clothes, Dylan," I said. I 
                 pretended to ignore the boy, lifting the waffles onto the plates 
               and pouring a generous amount of syrup over each one, but I followed 
                Dylan's every move. He hesitated for a moment, then overcoming any 
                 inhibition he had, kicked off his Nike Airs and tugged his socks 
                  off. He unfastened his shirt buttons and pulled his arms free, 
                 dropping the shirt on the floor, then unfastened his belt, opened 
                 his zipper and slid out of his shorts. He still wore'little-boy' 
                  underpants, the white-cotton kind made by Jockey, with the high 
                sides and the flap in front. Kelly swivelled around and grinned as 
                he saw the older boy dressed only in his underpants, coming easily 
               to his feet and walking over to pick up his plate and glass of milk. 
                 Dylan stood by the other side of the bed, lifted back the sheet, 
                 and smiled at Kelly. "Dylan's penis is hard again, Daddy?" my son 
                       observed, "You can see it sticking out in his undies."
                   I laughed, "Like I said, that happens a lot to Dylan,... and 
                you too as you get older. It's supposed to do that." Dylan blushed 
                slightly and sat down on the bed, sliding his legs under the sheet 
                 and pulling it up so that his erection was covered. Except for a 
                 small rise between the boy's legs, there was no sign of it under 
                                            the sheets.
                     "You said it gets hard like that because he's happy, and 
                excited, and he feels good,... but, well,... why does he feel like 
                 that now?" Kelly asked, then sipped his milk as he looked at the 
                                       two of us in the bed.
                   "Because he's in bed with me without any clothes on,... well 
                   almost with no clothes,... and he likes it. So do I," I added 
                                             patiently.
                     Kelly giggled, "Is your penis sticking out too Daddy?" he 
                                          asked teasingly.
                    I turned and grinned at Dylan, then looked back at my son, 
                   "Huh huh, I like being naked with Dylan," I answered honestly.
                    Kelly giggled again as he turned back to the TV, "But he's 
                 still got his undies on!" he contradicted, then added as an after 
                  thought in his sing-song teasing voice, "Daddy and Dylan are in 
                                               love".
                     I was aware of a movement in the bed next to me, the boy 
                 lifting his legs up under the sheet, then pushing them back down. 
                Dylan smirked at me knowingly, brought his left hand out from under 
               the sheets, holding a finger to his lips for an instant, then taking 
                 it away. As Kelly settled back down on the floor in front of the 
                 television, carefully so as not to spill his milk, Dylan reached 
                for my right hand, the one nearest to him, and drew it towards him, 
                downwards under the sheet. My finger tips brushed against the soft 
                 satiny skin of his belly, then an inch or two further, I touched 
                 the bare flesh of boy's small but very hot cock. It was very hard 
                 and seemed to be throbbing with a life of it's own. Dylan sighed 
                  as he breathed out slowly, his blue eyes sparkling with boyish 
                  mischief as he pulled his other hand out from under the sheet, 
                 clutching his underpants. He dropped them on the floor casually. 
                                      "Now you," he whispered.
                     I grinned back at him and nodded, lifting my buttocks up 
                  quickly pulling my briefs off. I sat up, straightening my legs, 
                noticing the tent in the sheet that covered my groin. Dylan stifled 
                  a giggle as soon as he noticed. A moment later I felt his small 
                warm hand slip over my thigh and enclose my cock, squeezing firmly, 
                 playfully, his fingers barely meeting his thumb when he tightened 
                his grip. "He's really huge," Dylan whispered. "I don't believe you 
                         got him inside me yesterday,... twice,... do you?"
                        "What are you guys whispering'bout?" Kelly demanded.
                     "Nothing?" Dylan said, pulling his hand back from my cock 
                            slowly. "Is the waffle any good?" he added.
                    "Hummm,.... yeah," Kelly replied between bites. "It tastes 
                                              great."
                  "Of course," I said, "I made it!" I passed a plate and a glass 
                of milk to Dylan and took one for myself. It was very difficult to 
                believe that the impossible had happened, that I was sitting naked 
                in bed with a very beautiful twelve-year-old boy, with the consent 
                                           of his mother.
                    "Heh, this is good!" Dylan announced after his first bite, 
                "It's better than Frisch's, or anything." I laughed, watching Dylan 
                   chew, engaged by the boy's infectious grin, his perfect white 
                  teeth, the shine of his golden-blond hair. He slurped his milk 
                 noisily, leaving a white film on his lips. "You gonna eat your's 
                                        or what?" he teased.
                   I laughed, "No, I think I'll let you eat it,... then I'll eat 
                                 you! I bet you taste even better."
                   Dylan chortled, brushing the hair back from his forehead and 
                  out of his eyes as he ate. He looked up at me between bites, "I 
                taste pretty good." I took a bite of my waffle, relishing the sweet 
                syrup, still watching the boy eat and drink, unable to take my eyes 
               away. He finished first and reached over me to place his empty plate 
                  and glass back on the table. I felt the firm warmth of his lean 
                  body press against mine, the 'electric' shock as his bare skin 
                touched mine, then he turned back settling down next to me to watch 
                                             cartoons.
                   Almost as soon as Kelly finished his breakfast he came to his 
                 feet, leaving his plate and glass on the floor, he looked at the 
               two of us lying side by side in the bed and shrugged in disinterest. 
                 "I'm gonna play with my train set,... in my room," he announced. 
                                      "You wanna come Dylan?"
                    "Later on, maybe. When your Dad's in the shower, okay," the 
                                          boy volunteered.
                    Kelly ambled out of my bedroom room and into his own. Dylan 
                smiled shyly, "Well,...?" he said, his voice suddenly turning husky 
                    again. "What do you want to do,... now?" he asked, his eyes 
                                flickering with growing excitement.
                     I smiled back at him, "I want to eat you all up," I said 
                                              quietly.
                                      "All of me? Everything?"
                          "Huh, huh,...all of you," I said. "Everything!"
                         "Everything?...Even my dick?" Dylan asked huskily.
                    "'specially your dick," I whispered, gently placing my hand 
                 on the boy's soft cheek. I caressed the smooth skin lovingly with 
                 my fingertips, wondering how long before he would have before he 
                began to shave, moving my hand back towards his small ear, stroking 
                  the delicate lobe, then under, sinking my fingers in the silky 
                   hair, like soft down. Dylan quivered under my touch, his body 
                          trembling noticeably as his arousal intensified.
                    "How do you feel? Does it still feel sore inside?" I asked 
                   gently, remembering what I'd done to the boy the previous day.
                   "Okay,...There was blood on my underpants this morning, but" 
                 Dylan said. "Just a little bit but, like a smear, I think it was 
                  from yesterday. It feels sort of sore in my belly, and my hole 
                itches a bit. I don't mind if you wanna do it now, except for Kelly 
                                          might come in."
                  I nodded, slowly drawing the boy's head forward. Instinctively 
                his tongue came forward and licked his lips, his eyes closed, lips 
               pursed, he took a quick breath. As we kissed his arms settled around 
                me and I held him tightly. The kiss he had given in the car outside 
                  his house the previous night was only a promissory note. It was 
                long and hot and very very wet. Still kissing, I pulled Dylan over 
                 on top of me, our bodies coming together, his light weight barely 
                   noticeable. We were breathless, and speechless when that kiss 
                 ended. The kiss had concentrated all of our pent-up feelings, the 
                 loneliness we'd both experienced while we were apart, it was the 
                most passionate kiss I have ever known. As soon as we parted Dylan 
                flicked his head and smirked cheekily, "I want to eat you first,... 
                                               okay?"
                      He didn't give me the opportunity to answer because he 
                 wriggled downward in the bed, sliding under the sheets, until his 
                head rested on my belly. I felt his small fingers touch against my 
                balls, fondling the soft skin, playfully rolling them around, then 
                 the hot moistness of his lips as his lips kissed the swollen head 
                 if my cock. The moistness quickly became wet and very very soft, 
                like a band sliding down my cock as he took it into his mouth. His 
                  head rocked gently, moving my cock back and forth, his fingers 
                massaging my balls with increasing pressure. For a moment he pulled 
                his mouth away, breathing deeply, "Okay?" he asked shyly, his voice 
                         betraying his doubt, of his ability to satisfy me.
                  "You feel wonderful, Dylan," I sighed, reaching down with both 
                                   hands to hold his silky head.
                     "Yeah? It tastes a bit salty,...but I like it," he said, 
                  shifting slightly, this time his tongue touching, then licking, 
                 then sucking on my balls, his hand partially enclosing the shaft 
                 of my cock, moving rhythmically up and down the entire length. He 
                   alternated between my cock and balls, long wonderful minutes, 
                  gradually getting faster and he overcame his own reluctance and 
                 accepted my cock deeper and deeper into his mouth. Then, after I 
                 could barely stand it any longer he pulled back, taking the head 
                  of my cock, settling his teeth into the ridge behind the helmet-
                head, and swirling his tongue over and around it, pressing into the 
                slit as far as he could go. He began to use his hand on my cock as 
                well, vibrating his hand, then his forearm, faster and faster until 
                                I felt my orgasm build up inside me.
                    I gasped, groaned, then gasped again, knowing that the boy 
                needed to make his own decision. "It's coming, it's coming,... Ohhh 
                 Yeahhhh," I gasped. Dylan's response was to sink his mouth down, 
                bobbing his head up and down as fast as he could, jerking the sheet 
                 downward to expose his golden-blond head moving as rapidly as he 
                  could. I shuddered, arching my back, clutching Dylan's head as 
                tightly as I could as I felt my juice explode out into the boy. He 
                 was ready and waiting for it. As he tasted the first salty spurt 
                he swallowed, pushing down even harder onto my cock, forcing it all 
                   the way to the back of his mouth and part of the way into his 
                throat. My ejaculation seemed to last for ever, almost filling the 
                      boy, but in reality little more than a teaspoon or two. 
                  Dylan waited until I was finished, until the last dying spasm, 
                 until my throbbing cock began to soften, before he finally pulled 
                 away and wriggled back up to lie beside me, his small blond head 
                lying safely on my chest, cuddled closely to me with my arm wrapped 
                protectively around his shoulders. Like me, the boy was breathless, 
                 but his eyes were happy and his cheeky smile was victorious. "You 
                  like that?" he teased as his breathing quickened and his heart 
                                              slowed.
                    "Yeahhh! You're incredible Dylan," I said effusively. "That 
                 was truly 'awesome'!" He smiled. his pink small tongue licking at 
                  his lips. "So,... what do you think of the taste huh?" I asked.
                    "'s okay, it's salty,... it sure is thick but,... It seemed 
                   like a lot came out,... it tastes a bit like clam chowder,... 
                  without the clams but," he giggled playfully, moving his tongue 
                           around as he savored the residual after taste.
                                "What about the potatoes?" I teased.
                   Dylan giggled, "Hmmmm,... no I don't think so," he said. "Do 
                             you think I'll have a lot when I'm older?"
                       "Probably," I said, hoping that day would never come.
                      "The worst part is I got hairs in my mouth. Yuk," Dylan 
                 complained. "I don't mind your come, it's okay,... but hairs are 
                                              yucky."
                   I laughed, "Sorry about that. I'm afraid there's not much we 
                                      can do about it though."
                   Dylan giggled, his fingers descending down my belly, back to 
                my cock, gently tracing the wet, sticky shaft, then he twisted his 
                head back and looked up at me, "Yes there is! You could shave him," 
                                         he said playfully.
                    I laughed, "That's not a bad idea, except I'd have to do it 
                                            every day."
                    "Okay," Dylan teased, "If you do, then I'll suck him every 
                                            day, okay?"
                   I looked at Dylan and he grinned, "What about when you start 
                                      school in a few weeks?"
                    "I'll come after school," he said cheekily, "'course if all 
               you wanna do is fuck me, well, I guess it's not a big problem then." 
                  He squeezed my limp penis gently but firmly, then increased the 
                 stakes, "I dare you!" he grinned, then raised the ante yet again, 
                                        "I double dare you!"
                   I began to laugh, pulled Dylan to me, hugged him tightly and 
                 kissed him as hard as I could. I tasted my semen inside the boy's 
                 mouth, no longer as salty, but the lingering strange taste still 
                on his tongue. "Okay I guess, but when you're here, you have to do 
                                    it,... beginning right now."
                     "Huh? Me?... I don't have any hair there yet!" he smirked.
                       "That's not what I mean. You do the shaving," I said.
                                "Oh!... Now?" he asked uncertainly.
                   "Huh huh! Well unless you want me to do you now?" I laughed. 
                "Come on you're going to have to learn how to shave sooner or later 
                  anyway. You can have a shower with me, and do it then," I added 
                 swinging my legs out of the bed. I pulled Dylan after me, leading 
                            the giggling boy towards the bathroom door.
                    The memory of his first shower with me at the farm was very 
                  strong, but he hesitated at the door, "But,... well I promised 
                Kelly I'd play with him while you were showering. He wants to show 
                                   me his train set," Dylan said.
                    I grinned and turned around. It was a nice thing for him to 
                 have said. "I don't think Kelly will mind that much, but let's go 
                see," I said, leading the way back out through the bedroom and into 
                my son's bedroom. Kelly was still in his underpants, sitting cross-
                  legged in front of the train set, the control unit in his lap, 
                   switching the trains back and forth as they zipped around the 
                                               track.
                     He was engrossed in his game, making engine sounds as the 
                 steam locomotive backed up into the siding. I knocked lightly on 
                the door and looked up almost immediately, realizing our presence, 
                   and he grinned, "Hi!" he said. "Have you guys finished making 
                babies already?" he teased. "You were a lot faster than last time."
                     Dylan blushed slightly, swivelling to me, then seeing me 
                smile, relaxed. "We weren't making babies, Kelly. We were,...", he 
                 glanced back at me, "Well boys can't do that,... make babies,... 
                                 it's not what it's called anyway."
                   Kelly looked up pouting, "So what is it called? What you two 
                                      do together," he asked.
                    "I,... well,... I know one word for it,... but it's dirty," 
                  he answered awkwardly. I stifled a laugh as Dylan looked at me 
                 seriously. I shrugged, sooner or later Kelly would hear the word 
                     anyway. "It's called,... 'fucking'," Dylan said expertly.
                   "There are other words for it Kelly, but that's one of them. 
                Dylan's right, it is a dirty word. It's not a word that you should 
                 use with anyone else, okay? If I hear you saying it, except to me 
                     or Dylan, you die tiger," I said, pretending seriousness.
                    My son nodded, his curiosity unquenchable, "So what did you 
                 do then?" he asked looking up at the two of us, both naked, Dylan 
                  standing slightly in front and to one side of me, his penis no 
                longer fully erect, but in the half-aroused stage, when instead of 
                  pointing upward, it was still firm enough to point outwards and 
                downwards. My own penis was completely satisfied, hanging loose and 
                limp between my legs, still glistening slightly, but noticeably wet 
                               with Dylan's saliva and my own semen.
                   I laughed, playfully hugging Dylan to me, "We had fun,... and 
                                  Dylan had breakfast," I replied.
                   Dylan walked over towards Kelly, oblivious to his nakedness, 
                  then squatted down next to my son. "This is a 'cool' train set. 
                                       Have you had it long?"
                  Kelly smiled at the older boy, "I got it for Christmas, didn't 
                      I Daddy", then he added, "You wanna play with it Dylan?"
                  "Dylan and I are going to take a shower together, okay. I know 
                 he promised,... but do you mind?" I asked. Kelly shook his head, 
                then not ignoring us, but totally engrossed in his game, continued 
                to play as if we weren't there. "Come on Dylan," I said, "Kelly, I 
                want you to get dressed." The boy nodded absently as Dylan came to 
                   his feet and followed me back out of the bedroom and into the 
                                             bathroom.
                  I turned the shower on and sat down on the toilet. Dylan stood 
                 before me, only a foot away at most, his belly about at the same 
                  level as my eyes, his tiny intruded navel almost, but not quite 
                half-covered by a little fold of brown skin. His penis had relaxed 
                   even further, a small soft appendage hanging downward, lifted 
                  outward slightly by the rounded hemisphere of his testicles. I 
                leaned forward, placing my arms around the boy's back and with the 
                 tip of my tongue touched his navel, probing into the small cavity 
                   and flicking playfully. Dylan giggled and pulled away, "That 
                                      tickles," he admonished.
                   "It's supposed to," I laughed, then added, "I haven't had my 
                                         breakfast,...yet."
                   Dylan took a step forward, "Okay,... but no tickling. I have 
                    to go pee too and I'll do it all over you if you tickle me."
                   "Okay, I'll behave." I placed my hands back on Dylan's hips, 
                tempted by the small, but extremely tasty morsel that he presented 
                to me. Instead I twisted the boy around so that he faced away from 
                  me, keeping my hands at the same level so that I now cupped the 
                 full roundness of his small cheeks. The skin was paler there than 
                anywhere else on his body, delicate and smooth. Gently I prised the 
                two halves apart, noticing the boy's involuntary shiver, wondering 
               immediately whether he felt more pain there than he let on. I looked 
                into his crack, the fine dividing line running from his spine, all 
                 the way to the swelling of his scrotum, broken only by his small 
                anus. I was not sure what I should have expected, perhaps I thought 
                  he would have returned to his virgin state, his hole small and 
                   puckered, the lips flaring slightly before the wrinkly tissue 
                vanished inside him. I expected his anus to be a little darker but 
                  it wasn't. Around the puffed out rim there was a purplish ring, 
                 between a half and three-quarters of an inch thick. I touched the 
                  bud of the boy's anus very gently barely touching the sensitive 
                  tissue. He winced unmistakably. "Sorry, it hurts doesn't it?" I 
                                               asked.
                  "Yeah! A bit sore," he breathed out, "It hurts more when I try 
                                        to poop," he added.
                     "Dylan, it's a bit bruised and it's kind of swollen, I'm 
                                          sorry," I said.
                                            "It's okay."
                    "No it's not. Dylan I want to look inside to see if there's 
               more damage?" I said, "I'll try to be careful. It might hurt a bit." 
                  The boy nodded. I wasn't even sure I knew what to look for, but 
                carefully I placed my fingers against the rim of the boy's opening 
                 and pressed back. The hole was small and very tight but there was 
                a thin reddish line that led back down. It was at the place closest 
                to his scrotum, the place where the pressure had been the greatest, 
                   where his young body, unable to accommodate the cock that had 
                 demanded entry, taken possession of his slender body, had finally 
                broken. The fissure wasn't deep but it obviously painful for Dylan. 
                    I swallowed guiltily, the shame returning with a vengeance. 
                "There's a little split inside. I think that's what hurts," I said.
                        "It's hurts a fair bit when I squeeze on it," Dylan 
                                            volunteered.
                   "I guess it would," I said, "I think there's something in the 
                vanity cupboard that'd help," I added, pressing on Dylan's buttocks 
                gently so that he stepped away. I stood up and went to the vanity, 
                opened the cupboard and found some analgesic ointment for internal 
                  use. Dylan came over as I unscrewed the cap, and leaned forward 
                 over the vanity, placing his hips against the curved edge of the 
                 marble, his hands on the top to take his weight. I dropped to my 
                  knees, then reached forward, carefully parting the boy's small 
                cheeks again. I squeezed a big fat gob out and smeared it into the 
                 boy's hole. He sighed as the cool ointment oozed into his aching 
                 body. "It'll feel better in a few minutes, Dylan," I said, gently 
                rotating my finger, the tip intruding slightly into the boy's moist 
                        dank heat. "We'll put some more in there later on."
                   "It feels better already," Dylan smiled as I stood up and he 
                                           straightened.
                  I picked up the razor on the vanity, ejected the old blade and 
                fitted a new cartridge. I placed my hands on his shoulders, guiding 
                the boy forward and into the shower. My desire had cooled somewhat 
                  after I'd seen the damage I'd done to the boy's tender body. At 
                 first I'd entertained thoughts of 'fucking' the boy there in the 
                 shower, but not now. Dylan picked up the soap in his small hand, 
                  pushed me playfully back under the water, and began to soap. He 
                began with my chest and belly, then turned me around and washed my 
                back and legs. His supple fingers, slippery with soap, squirmed and 
                  tickled, exploring everywhere, even pushing a wriggling little 
                 finger up into my anus as far as he dared, giggling as I sighed. 
                  Then he turned me around and went to work on my groin, kneeling 
                 between my feet, looking up at me with a greedy knowing smirk as 
                  he playfully tugged on my pubic hair making a rich foamy lather 
                 over my cock and balls. His gentle, but insistent kneading, made 
                 my penis spring to life, hardening quickly until it was sticking 
                   outward pointed towards him, only a few short inches from his 
                 mouth. Silently I willed the boy to take it back into his mouth, 
                          flexing my internal muscles and making it jerk.
                    Dylan giggled, slapping it playfully with his hand, "You've 
                  gotta behave now. You're too soapy to suck right now, okay". He 
                 smirked as he looked up at me, "Okay he's nice and soapy now. So, 
                                      what do I do?" he asked.
                   I grinned down at the boy, flexing my cock rapidly, hungrily, 
                 trying to tempt the boy. Dylan shook his head emphatically, "When 
                         I done, okay. But you promised,... no more hairs!"
                   I laughed, "Okay kiddo, you win. You do this very carefully." 
                 The boy grinned teasingly, raising his eyebrows. "Here," I said, 
                passing the razor to him. He took it inexpertly, holding it like a 
                  pencil. "Now, pull it very carefully across, don't push at it." 
                Dylan nodded, making his first awkward stroke, beginning just below 
                 my navel and carefully moving down to the side of my penis. There 
                was two-inch swathe of skin revealed under the soap foam. I didn't 
                see any hair and neither did Dylan. He looked up at me and grinned 
                  as stray water trickled over his forehead, beaded, and dribbled 
                                        onto his shoulders.
                  "Cool," he observed. Then he lifted the razor and began on the 
                other side. "This is awesome," he added as more skin was revealed. 
                  Dylan became more confident, making shorter strokes, working in 
                towards my now throbbing cock, each increasingly deft stroke taking 
                away soap. After a few more I reached down and took the razor away 
                from him. He pouted, pretending to be a spoiled brat with a playful 
                whine, as I washed the collection of dark, curly hair away from the 
                    blade before passing it back to him. He grinned in absolute 
                 delight, pulling my testicles down and getting the razor into the 
                  furrow between my legs, then carefully around the scrotum, then 
                  back up over my penis. I grinned down at the boy, intent on his 
                 work, absorbed totally by his position of control, in his own way 
                 making us equals. He continued, going back over places that he'd 
                already visited, once, twice, even three times, getting every last 
                 strand, leaving only perfectly smooth hairless skin in his path, 
                 until only a few smears of soap were left. He was finished and he 
                 came back to his feet, pushing his wet darkened hair back and he 
                came to his tip-toes, leaning forward and kissing me passionately, 
                 hot, wet and very eagerly. He pushed his flat brown belly into my 
                still rigid cock, grinding his hips vigorously and working his own 
                 now-erect cock against my thigh. "Well?..." he teased, the husky 
                 note suddenly appearing in his strained voice, then added after a 
                                long pause, ".... You wanna do it?"
                     I shook my head, knowing how sore the boy must feel, but 
                fascinated by his desire. Just then Kelly walked into the bathroom, 
                   looked at us, then smirked knowingly. "Heh Dad, Mom's on the 
                  phone," he said. "What are you guys doing now?" he asked. "Heh, 
                      Dylan's penis is standing up again, Daddy," he observed 
                 shamelessly, oblivious to the fact that he too was standing there 
                    before us, his naked body concealed by only his underpants.
                   "Shit!", I laughed, "Of all the dumb times to call," I said, 
                  stepping back from Dylan and out of the shower. "I'll be right 
                back", I added as I quickly towelled myself dry. Dylan followed me 
                out of the shower, his little stiff penis bobbing, slapping against 
                the gentle curve of his lower belly, his immature testicles hanging 
                loosely below in the delicate folds of his tiny scrotum. He picked 
                up a towel and began to dry himself with quick energetic movements 
                 as he worked the towel over his narrow back and down his slender 
                                            brown legs. 
                      Almost as soon as Dylan straightened up, Kelly smirked, 
                    pointing between my legs, "You look just like Dylan,... and 
                             me,...you look like a little boy, Daddy."
                  Dylan started to laugh as he looked at my freshly shaved cock, 
                 "He's cute like that, isn't he. You're right Kelly, he looks just 
                like us. Only his dick is a whole lot bigger and he can 'come' and 
                                      neither of us can yet."
                   Kelly and I both laughed and the two boys followed me out of 
                 the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I picked up the telephone 
                and the two boys leaped onto the bed, wrestling playfully. I tried 
                 to concentrate on my wife's long-distance phone call but the boys 
                were an impossible distraction, giggling, squealing, tumbling over 
                                each other like two little puppies.
                    "...Look, I can't get back this week. I still have a lot of 
                      work to do here.... Max is thinking of stepping down as 
                 President....", she said. I caught most of her words but I turned 
                  to the boys hushing then with my finger as I tried to listen to 
                  what she was saying. Dylan had Kelly pinned on his back and was 
                 tickling him under the ribs furiously. Kelly let out a loud yelp 
                and finally pushed the older boy back, then scrambled to his feet, 
                  panting with pretended anger. "... I'm not even sure about next 
                             week.... Max is talking about a month,..."
                     Kelly yelped again, struggling valiantly but still easily 
                overpowered by Dylan. The two boys writhed around on the bed, bare 
                buttocks, arms and legs entwined, fingers digging furiously at each 
                other's slender chests. I looked again, surprised. Somehow Kelly's 
                  underpants had come off. Like Dylan, the younger boy was erect. 
                 Kelly's penis was perhaps just a half-inch shorter than Dylan's, 
                 who was five years older, but it was not a lot smaller, since it 
                 was about as thick as Dylan's penis. I dragged my attention back 
                  to the telephone but continued to watch the boys, entranced by 
                 their beautiful naked bodies, twisting and turning noisily on the 
                bed, each boy now grabbing for the other's exposed genitals. ".... 
                  I'm not sure about,.... call me next week,....I have to fly,... 
                                           how's Kelly?"
                    "He's fine, he's wrestling on the bed with Dylan right now. 
                 Do you want to speak to him?" I said loudly, finally giving Dylan 
                a playful slap on his bare buttocks. For a few moments both he and 
                 Kelly were quiet. I wondered what my wife would have said if she 
                knew that the three of us were stark-naked together on the bed and 
                   her nearly-seven-year-old son was engaging in his first 'cock-
                                              fight'.
                    "I'm flying out to Boston again in an hour, I still have to 
                pack. Look I have to go, tell Kelly I love him. Bye!" she finished.
                        "What did Mom want?" Kelly asked, looking at Dylan 
                  suspiciously as he grinned first at me, then at Kelly, his body 
                tensing, his right hand hovering protectively near his groin, ready 
                     to lunge back to the tickling, grabbing, squeezing attack.
                    I put the phone down. "I'm not sure. I think she'll be gone 
                for a month still, at least that's what it sounded like." I grinned 
                   at the two boys, their bare brown bodies exposed, small hard 
                   penises sticking straight up in the air, both boy's testicles 
                                forming taut wrinkled little knots.
                  "Let's get Daddy, Dylan," Kelly squealed, turning quickly back 
                 to me. I leaped to my feet and Dylan hurtled against me, lifting 
                 the boy up and twisting him away before tossing him back onto the 
                 bed. I followed through, slapping his buttocks with loud, playful 
                  slaps, giving his little penis a quick tug downward. It snapped 
                 back against his belly as he jerked away, his hand flying down to 
                 cover the exposed part. Kelly came into the attack bravely, but I 
                  grabbed him around the waist and flopped him onto his back. He 
                struggled, shrieking at the top of his lings, begging Dylan to help 
                him. Dylan was laughing so hard that he could barely save himself. 
                I forced my son's hands back over his head, holding them both with 
                    one hand, covering his flailing legs with one of mine, then 
                  teasingly walking my fingers down his heaving chest, across his 
                soft belly and onto his hard penis, "Oh! Look, and what do we have 
                                 here,... It's a PENIS," I laughed.
                     "Daddy,... No!,... You're going to make me pee," the boy 
                 giggled as my fingers squeezed the tiny, but very sensitive tip, 
                teasing it by rubbing it around and around against the smooth skin 
                  of his lower belly. He wriggled, squirmed and jerked, enjoying 
                every precious moment of my hand on his cock, until finally, unable 
                 to resist the delicious sensations, sighed and relaxed back onto 
                the bed. The smile on his small face was a study in absolute bliss 
                  and it frightened the hell out of me. My own cock was rigid, so 
                 hard that it was throbbing, pulsing in time to the pounding in my 
                   ears. I glanced at Dylan, he was sitting back on the pillows, 
                  watching. I swallowed, and pulled away, aware than Kelly's eyes 
                    followed me hungrily, demandingly, insistently. My hand was 
                   shaking, my body seemed to be trembling as I came to my feet 
                 guiltily looking down at the small naked boy lying stretched out 
                on the bed, his eyes wanting me, penetrating into the depravity of 
                 my mind. I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion, to deny 
                the urgent desire to return to the boy's side, to finish what I had 
                          started, but my own inhibitions were too strong.
                    "You guys better get dressed," I mumbled self-consciously, 
                 aware that both boys saw my hard penis, knowing that I was every 
                bit as excited as they were. I went over to the dresser, opened the 
                 top drawer and extracted a pair of briefs, awkwardly pulling them 
                   on, feeling relief as my cock disappeared from their sight. I 
                turned back, Dylan and Kelly glanced at each other, sharing a look 
                of despair, of excitement and desire suddenly, irrevocably crushed. 
                Dylan came easily to his feet and bent down to pick up his clothes 
                  as Kelly crawled to the end of bed and slowly came to his feet.
                     The silence was overwhelming as the boys and I shared our 
                culpability. Kelly lingered as he retrieved his underpants, pulling 
                 them on slowly, Dylan sliding into his clothes as fast as he had 
                  slid out of them. "What are we going to do today?" Dylan asked 
                                   changing the subject suddenly.
                   I looked up from fastening my belt, "Huh? Oh! I,... I haven't 
                      thought about it. What do you guys what to do?" I asked.
                    "Daddy, you promised we could go see the new exhibit at the 
                zoo today!" Kelly piped in as he finally stood up, his boy-genitals 
                              now safely concealed in his underpants.
                           "I guess. What do you want to Dylan?" I asked.
                              Dylan grinned, "The zoo would be great."
                   Kelly grinned and ran out of the room to get his clothes, his 
                 rampart sexual urge temporarily suspended. Dylan watched him go, 
                        then turned back, "He's sexy!" he observed quietly.
                                             Chapter 8.
                  I carried the tray downstairs, preceded by Dylan who ran ahead 
                 with Kelly. The two boys were laughing and shouting, as they took 
                  the stairs two at a time. Then from about halfway up the first 
                 flight, Dylan leaped the rest of the way, whooping at the top of 
                his lungs as he pivoted around the newel-post at the bottom of the 
                   stairs. Kelly followed from two steps lower. I don't remember 
                 having ever seen Kelly so boisterous. While he wasn't what you'd 
                 have called a quiet kid, he usually wasn't this noisy. It was as 
                if the two boys fed on each other, challenging, supporting, evoking 
                a restlessness that was ignited by their sexual urges, even though 
                 the episode in the bedroom was now just a distant memory for both 
                  of them. There was, however, a pleasant coolness in my groin, a 
                 heightened awareness of the sensitivity of my freshly shaved skin 
                 that I relished. As I came into the kitchen I found that the boys 
                   had finally quietened down a bit, Kelly sitting on the floor 
                putting on his sneakers, his small fingers hurrying with the laces. 
                 I watched them run out into the yard, hearing them yelling loudly 
                as I placed the dishes in the washer, quickly tidied up the kitchen 
                and went outside myself. The boys were shooting hoops, or at least 
                           Dylan was, Kelly was hitting the hoop instead.
                     "Heh guys," I called as I came up, "You want to go in the 
                                       Corvette or the Jeep?"
                            "The Corvette," they both answered at once.
                   I laughed, opening the garage door and standing back to avoid 
                    being trampled by two excited boys. "So who's riding in the 
                                              middle?"
                    The boys exchanged glances, then pointed at each other, "He 
                                     is!", they said in unison.
                     I laughed, "Well, I think Dylan did last time. Your turn 
                                              Kelly."
                    "Ohhhh!" he said, pretending to be upset but unable to help 
                 himself, finally broke into a grin, "Okay,... but he has to next 
                                               time."
                    Dylan grinned, "If I squeeze over, maybe we can both fit in 
                                      the seat," he suggested.
                   I nodded and Dylan followed my son into the passenger's side. 
                 It was a squeeze but I discovered that it is possible to fit two 
                boys in a Corvette seat. I got in, started the engine and carefully 
                 reversed out, hitting the remote control button as I went so that 
                the door closed after us. I turned into a responsible adult, making 
                Dylan buckle his seat-belt around both of them. They were a 'pair', 
                 giggling and chattering excitedly the entire way to the zoo. Once 
                  we'd parked the car, the two boys took off again, their energy 
                seemed boundless, almost frenetic as they raced around. I couldn't 
                 help but laugh when I theorized that they were burning off their 
                libidos. The line that had formed for the next exhibit was already 
                 long and we decided that we'd come again when it wasn't as busy. 
                The boys took off again, Dylan leading the way, with Kelly in close 
                 pursuit. I followed the boys up toward the elephant house. I was 
                 still some distance away when they came charging back, both boys 
                              wearing the biggest grins I'd ever seen.
                   "Heh Dad,... it was 'awesome'," Kelly yelled as he came up to 
                 me, "You should have seen it," he added between fits of laughter.
                      "Seen what?" I asked patiently, fascinated by the boy's 
                  exuberance, his imitation of the older boy who was laughing as 
                  well, wondering what on earth they could have seen to make them 
                                           this excited.
                    "The elephant! You wouldn't have believed it!" he shrieked, 
                                          still laughing.
                                     "Believed what?" I asked.
                   "The elephant,... he did pee-pee,... you should have seen how 
                   big his penis was? It was enormous," Kelly grinned, his eyes 
                 watering from his prolonged laughing, "It was this big," he added 
                holding his arms wide, his hands as far apart as he could get them. 
                                         "Wasn't it Dylan?"
                   Dylan nodded amid peals of laughter, "It kind of slid out of 
                 him until it was huge. It was a monster-dick. When he peed,... it 
                 was like a hose got turned on full pelt,... he just kept on doing 
                                 it. It was,... his dick was huge."
                    I laughed, pulling Dylan and then Kelly to me for a brief, 
                  playful hug, feeling the momentary pressure and warmth of their 
                slender young bodies, enjoying the close contact with each of them. 
                 Then the two boys took off again, like a team, usually with Dylan 
                in the lead, but sometimes the younger boy. I followed them around 
                the zoo as they 'terrorized' the animals, sometimes catching up to 
                 them, sometimes watching from a distance. They were irresistible, 
                two beautiful young boys full of life and energy. Despite the five-
                   year difference in ages the two boys were fast becoming best-
                  friends, a fact that was patently obvious in their enjoyment of 
                life and of each other. But what I liked the most was the fact that 
                  they always can hurtling back to me with stories of the animals 
                they had discovered. They hugged me ferociously like the bears they 
                had visited, and I knew that they depended on me, that for each boy 
                                   I was the center of his life.
                   That morning at the zoo is one of my most precious memories, 
                 I began to imagine Dylan as my son, and I saw the two boys almost 
                                            as brothers.
                    We had to back-track because we missed the island with the 
                 monkeys. I sat down at a seat on the other side of the 'lagoon', 
                watching the antics of two 'monkeys', my two boys, as they imitated 
                  with remarkable accuracy, the antics of the real monkeys. I was 
                 glad of the rest, enjoying the last cool freshness of the morning 
                as it gradually became hotter. Below the planked walkway fat golden 
                carp swam lazily and I watched them move easily, gracefully through 
                 the weeds. I looked up suddenly as the warmth of the sunlight was 
                blocked. Dylan had approached silently, standing barely a foot away 
                                              from me.
                                       "Hi monkey!" I teased.
                   The boy returned a grin and sat down next to me, his bare leg 
                touching mine, There was a shock at the contact of his skin against 
                  mine, the flow of warmth between us. Dylan glanced around, then 
                assured of his privacy, looked downward pausing, then said quietly, 
                                           "I love you."
                   "Yeah, I know," I said, "It's mutual,... but I've always been 
                                   attracted to monkeys you see."
                       The boy giggled, then did a crude, but very effective 
                   imitation of a monkey. "Hmmm,... Can I ask you a,... kind of 
                              personal question?" he said hesitantly.
                    "Huh? I think I've heard that before somewhere?" I teased. 
                     Dylan smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, his blue eyes 
                        sparkling. "Of course you can,... you know you can."
                      "Well,... I know we love each other,... and well we do 
                stuff,...together,... that people do when they love each other,..." 
                  he began awkwardly. I nodded reassuringly. Dylan thought for a 
                 moment, ".... Well they do that stuff,... like mostly after they 
                 get married,... don't they?" I nodded again, wondering where the 
                boy was headed. "Only we're not,... But you are married to Kelly's 
                                              mom,..."
                    He stopped, brushing his unruly golden-blond hair back from 
                  his forehead, uncertain of what the question was any longer. He 
                 thought for a moment or two, "Do you,... well do you do stuff,... 
                                   with her too?" he blurted out.
                     I smiled at the boy, "No,... well not for a long time,... 
                since, well from,... I don't know when. I still love her, Dylan,... 
                               but it's not the same as I love you."
                   "But you did stuff,... with her before that? You had to,... I 
                      mean to make Kelly and all,...? he continued nervously.
                    I nodded, "Huh huh. It's been a few years," I said honestly.
                   "Did you,... I know I'm just a kid,...but,... Did you like it 
                   better,... with her?" Dylan blurted out, his voice strained, 
                                        demanding an answer.
                   I was silent, trying to find the words, wanting to tell Dylan 
                that the happiness of only a single day with him was the only real 
                happiness I'd ever known. "Dylan, I love you,... I love what we do. 
                   It isn't just that it feels better, what we do together, it's 
                special, you're special to me in a way that Kelly's mom, any woman, 
                                          could never be."
                   The boy was quiet for a long while, holding his head between 
                 his hands, his knees supporting his elbows as he leaned forward, 
                    looking aimlessly, but very thoughtfully out to the 'monkey 
                 island'. "What happens now?" he asked. The nervous tremble in his 
                 voice was marked, suddenly he seemed very fragile, so young, too 
                young for the kinds of emotional demands that our relationship had 
                                          placed upon him.
                   "I don't know Dylan,... I don't,... I wish I did,... I really 
                want to have the answer. But I don't," I answered gently. I glanced 
                 around, looking for my son. "Where's Kelly gone off to?" I asked.
                   Dylan looked up, glanced around, then pointed over to the red 
               pandas. The boy's eyes were so much stronger than mine, but I looked 
                  in the same direction and finally spotted the younger boy. "You 
                 have good eyes, kiddo," I said. The boy shrugged, his unanswered 
                          question gnawing at him, insistent in his mind.
                    "I love you, Alex,... I don't want to leave you, ever,... I 
                don't want her to come back,... I.... I don't know,... I,... I get 
                scared when I think about it." Dylan choked back a rising sob, but 
                   a tear rolled down the boy's smooth brown cheek, "I,... don't 
                 know,... what to do,... I,... I,... love you,... and,... and,..." 
                 He started to sob, tears welling in his pale-blue eyes, then the 
                  dam burst and the boy shuddered involuntarily, the single tear 
                                 becoming many as he lost control.
                   I pulled the boy towards me, holding him tightly, my fingers 
                 caressing his silky-soft hair, "I know. I know. I love you too. I 
                love you too," I whispered in his ear soothingly. I could feel his 
                 slender body trembling uncontrollably, his face pressed hard into 
                  my chest shamefully, the moistness of his tears on my shirt. He 
                 sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, then reached 
                down, his small fingers grasping and closing on my fingers. "I love 
                 you Dylan," I said with absolute finality, "I love you very much. 
                 I don't know what will happen,... but it'll be okay,... I promise 
                                        you it'll be okay."
                   The boy looked up, his cheeks now wet, his eyes reddened, he 
                  swallowed, sniffing, holding back tears. "I,... I,... love you 
                                          too,... but,..."
                   I smiled, lovingly stroking the back of the boy's hand, tiny 
                     veins rippling under the soft skin, "Trust me Dylan,... I 
                                           promise,..." 
                  Dylan nodded and slowly a small smile formed. He rubbed at his 
                eyes, wiping tears away bravely. "I,... I made your shirt all wet," 
                                  he observed, "Pretty dumb, huh?"
                   "No Dylan, I understand,..." I answered. We both looked over 
                 to where Kelly had been. My son had moved over the other side of 
                 the enclosure. "He loves the pandas, he always has, ever since he 
                 was a baby," I said. "Sometimes I think he should have been one."
                   Dylan smiled, "He's a lucky kid. I wish you were my dad," he 
                                          said wistfully.
                    I looked back at the boy. His eyes were serious, attentive, 
                still reddened. "I wish you were my son, Dylan." In that instant I 
                 knew that I would do something, anything, whatever it required to 
                keep Dylan. That knowledge scared me. I changed the topic quickly. 
                  "What happened last night? How did your mom find out?" I asked.
                     Dylan looked down guiltily, realizing that it might have 
                turned out quite differently as he said, "When I came in she asked 
                 me if I had a good time. I said that I had the best time I'd ever 
                 had. I told her about riding the horses and swimming, and the fun 
                 in the car. I guess I was acting weird but I was really happy and 
                I kept on talking about you. Then when I was having a snack in the 
                  kitchen she asked me if I liked you a lot. She kind of asked in 
                 this strange way, like she thought it was wrong of me to like you 
                 so much. I told her that I liked you more than anyone else in the 
                 whole world. I thought that was all because she was really quiet 
                 for a long while, then just as I got up to go to bed,...she,..." 
                 The boy was suddenly quiet, remembering the fear, the shock, the 
                turmoil that had overwhelmed him. "She asked me if I,... if we,... 
                                             had sex."
                   I placed my hand on the boy's thigh, my fingers stroking the 
                 soft brown skin, downward to his small knee, then back up to the 
                 edge of his shorts, gently caressing him, comforting him, hoping 
                                     that no one was watching.
                  "I didn't know what to say, Alex. It was like she already knew. 
                She wasn't angry, not really, but I knew she wasn't happy. I guess 
                my silence sort of answered the question, she just kept on looking 
               at me, then I started to blush and I felt so hot all over. I started 
                 to panic because I could tell from how she was looking at me that 
                    she knew. Then she said it again, but it wasn't a question 
                 anymore,... like,... like we had sex didn't we, or something like 
                that. Alex, I tried to say no but all I could do was shake my head 
                and I tried to look away. She knew I was lying and I've never lied 
                to her before. She sort of shrugged and shook her head like she was 
                  really disappointed in me, then she told me to go up to bed and 
                                  we'd discuss it in the morning."
                    Dylan looked up at me for support. He breathed out, a long 
                 drawn-out sigh from deep inside him. "So I went to my room. I was 
                really scared and I felt so bad, like I'd done something dirty and 
                 terrible with you. I got into bed and tried to go to sleep but I 
                 was so worried, all I could think of was you, that I'd gotten you 
                   into trouble. It was a lot later, maybe about an hour, when I 
               suddenly got the idea that I should call and tell you what happened. 
                 I went out into the living room as quietly as I could. I thought 
                  Mom was in bed, but she wasn't. The lights were out and she was 
                  sitting in the dark. I knew she'd been crying and I felt really 
                ashamed. I went over to her and said I was sorry. I started crying, 
               I haven't cried for a long while, but I couldn't help it. Everything 
                  seemed so screwed up, I told Mom I wished I was dead, I really 
                wanted to kill myself. She asked me to sit down and then we started 
                  to talk. We talked until after midnight, about how I felt about 
                  you, about what I,... we had done,... about everything.... Well 
                  almost everything,... I didn't tell her about Kelly. Mom wasn't 
                  angry, she was sort of understanding, kind of like,... like she 
                              already knew I was gay before,... well."
                   Dylan looked up. The boy smiled, shifting his hand so that it 
                  brushed against mine, stopped so that his small fingers locked 
                 between my fingers. He tilted his head up looking at the sky, as 
                blue as his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he 
                  turned back to me. "She said it was okay, Alex,... if you loved 
                   me,... if I loved you,... I was old enough to decide,... for 
                myself,... If I,... we wanted to,... have sex and all that,... then 
                                       she wouldn't stop us."
                     I nodded, "Your mom is a wonderful person. Most grown-ups 
                 could never understand the feelings that you and I have for each 
                       other. They'd be very angry at us, even at your mom."
                   "But,... well it's none of their business. My mom's right, I 
                know she is. I know I love you, even though it's only been a little 
                    while. And you love me too. So they're wrong!" the boy said 
                                           emphatically.
                     We looked up as Kelly ambled up and stood before us, his 
                 playful grin suddenly appearing as he announced, "I know what you 
                   two guys have been talking about. Making babies!" Then, in a 
                   quieter, teasing voice, barely more than a whisper, he added, 
                                             "Fucking!"
                  Dylan and I both laughed as we tried to grab him. I missed but 
                Dylan connected with Kelly's wrist, pulling him down onto us, onto 
                the seat. I grabbed my son around the waist, restraining him while 
                Dylan proceeded to tickle him furiously. Dylan and I were laughing 
                   and Kelly was giggling hysterically, writhing as he tried to 
                escape, as an old man and his wife walked down the path and turned 
                onto the planked walkway that followed the edge of the 'lagoon'. I 
                 heard the woman say, "Those two certainly are very handsome boys 
                 aren't they John", as she passed. I nodded and smiled at her, and 
                 playfully cuffed Dylan. He responded by turning his tickles to me 
                 and ganging up with Kelly. Twelve-year-old boys can be so fickle!
                    In the middle of the struggle, amidst cries and squeals of 
                joy, Kelly reached down, grabbing for Dylan's penis and testicles. 
                 The older boy yelped, not in pain but in surprise and turned his 
                 attack back to Kelly. I couldn't stop laughing, finally I managed 
                 to break in, "That's enough, you guys. Not in public, okay? Heh, 
                                           who's hungry."
                   It was a little after twelve o'clock and even though the boys 
                 had eaten breakfast only a few hours earlier, it was no shock to 
                me that they answered as one. "Yeah!" Growing boys, especially boys 
                 as active as mine, get hungry fast. I followed the boys again as 
                they took off towards the concession stands and the zoo restaurant. 
                 By the time I'd arrived they had already decided what they wanted 
                so I gave Dylan ten dollars and went over to a table in the shade. 
                 Someone had left a Sunday paper lying there, actually about half 
                the Sunday paper. The news and sports sections had disappeared, as 
                 had the advertising magazines of the department stores, the ones 
                 that feature the models wearing the season's fashions, the one's 
                 that occasionally have pictures of boys as beautiful as my two. I 
                browsed through what was left of the paper. A few minutes later the 
                 boys came back, each carrying a coke and two hot dogs. I watched 
                 them eat as I sipped the coffee Dylan had brought back for me. I 
                  didn't know where they put all the food. They were both slender 
                boys, there probably wasn't a spare pound of fat between them, even 
                Kelly was fast shedding his baby fat and growing into a lean, lithe 
                                          boy like Dylan.
                   The boys talked incessantly, slurping their cokes noisily as 
                  I tried to concentrate on reading the paper. When I got to the 
                Travel Section I stopped. The story on the second page featured an 
                  area in western Kentucky/Tennessee called the Land Between the 
                 Lakes. A picture of a boy about Dylan's age diving into the water 
                 from a houseboat caught my attention. With Dylan sitting not much 
                more than a foot away the picture no longer drew the same interest 
                 from me that it would have only a few days earlier. I don't know 
                how the idea came to me, it just occurred as I scanned the article. 
                 It formed inside me until I knew. "Heh, You guys," I grinned as I 
                stood up, "Behave for a few minutes, okay? I've got to make a phone 
                 call." I tool the paper and went over to the public phone on the 
                                   other side of the restaurant.
                  It took a minute or less to dial the number on my credit card, 
                then I was through. "Kentucky Lake Houseboats", a southern-sounding 
                                        male voice drawled.
                    "Hi!" I said, "I calling about a rental. I wonder if you've 
                                      got anything available?"
                      "Nah, nothin', everythings out, bin booked solid for a 
                month,..." the voice replied. There was short interruption, voices 
                 in the background, words indistinguishable through the phone half-
                covered by a hand. The voice came back, "Sorry,... well we got one, 
                          a cancellation it seems. It's the honeymooner!"
                               "Huh? The what?" I asked uncertainly.
                   "The honeymooner! It's a houseboat with a single bedroom. Got 
               a king-size bed. We get a lot of honeymooners in Spring. Was booked, 
                 but they called yesterday, must have killed the wedding I s'pose. 
                              Great boat for a couple?" the man said.
                   "It's for me and my two boys," I answered. "Anything else?" I 
                                   asked, as my mind raced ahead.
                  "Nah, nothing available anywhere on the lakes. Busy time this, 
               last few weeks of school holidays 'n all. There's a couch that makes 
                                  up a bed?" the voice suggested.
                    "Hmmm, I don't know. They had their hearts set on bunks," I 
                              lied acutely aware of my heart leaping.
                     "Yeah." I heard voices in the background then a click as 
                another voice came on. "Hi, I'm Leo, manager here. We can do you a 
                  great rate on the honeymooner, if you was interested. Normally 
                 she's out at six hundred dollars plus gas for the week. We can do 
                     four hundred if you want because we have the deposit. You 
                                            interested?"
                       "That sounds okay, but,... well my boys are a bit of 
                    problem,... they did want bunks,..." I said with deliberate 
                                            hesitation.
                     "Yeah. Well how long would it be for?" the manager asked, 
                        "Maybe we could get you on another boat next week."
                   "Well I was thinking about three weeks. 'till school starts." 
                                     I said, enjoying my game.
                   "Three fifty a week, for three weeks on the honeymooner?" the 
                 manager said, then added, "Plus gas, okay? You want linen it's an 
                                       extra thirty a week."
                   "Sounds good. Let me check with the boys, okay. I'll call you 
                                          back in a bit."
                    "Okay. Don't let it go too long. Busy time this. Bye!" the 
                                voice said before the phone clicked.
                     I put the phone down and looked over at the two boys. The 
                   honeymooner sounded exactly like what I needed. Their lunches 
                 finished they were looking at the comics section of the paper. I 
               smiled and went back over to them. Dylan looked up, noticed my smile 
                         and raised his eyebrows. "What's up?" Kelly asked.
                   "Up? Hmmm! I don't know. I might have a surprise for you two 
                boys. It depends on Dylan's mom. Come on guys. Let's get going," I 
                  said, wrapping up the boys' cups and napkins with my coffee cup.
                           "My mom? Why?" Dylan asked, "We're we going?"
                      "To your place", I replied, leading the way out of the 
                   restaurant seating area. We went back to the car and the boys 
                crowded into the front seat. It took about forty minutes to get out 
                 of the zoo and drive to Dylan's house. Her Volkswagen convertible 
                              was parked in the drive and we got out.
                    Before we got to the door Diane Brady was there. I followed 
                Dylan into his house for the first time. The living room was nicely 
                furnished, two couches and a coffee table in front of a fireplace. 
                  A piano was against the wall. Somehow I hadn't thought of Dylan 
                playing the piano but I knew instinctively that it was his. Within 
                 seconds, even before I sat down with his mother, Dylan and Kelly 
                disappeared down the hall and into the boy's bedroom. We looked at 
                  each other silently. I wondered whether she resented me, it was 
                          impossible to tell, her face gave nothing away.
                              "Diane,..." I began, "I,... well I,..."
                   Diane smiled and sighed, shaking her head slightly, "I should 
                have known shouldn't I,... at lunch, when you told me how fond you 
                    were of Dylan,... when I realized how much Dylan liked you. 
                         He's,... well,... he's a lucky boy in some ways."
                   "We're both lucky. I do love him you know,... I love him very 
                                          much," I added.
                     "Yes, I think I knew that when we had lunch. I think I've 
                 always known,... that he was,... gay. He is gay isn't it?... He's 
                 like other boys in lots of ways but,... he's different too. He's 
                                 very affectionate,... for a boy."
                   I nodded, "Dylan's a remarkable kid," I said honestly. "He's 
                caring and sensitive. He's everything he should be and more, much, 
                                            much more."
                   Diane looked down at the magazines on the coffee table, "His 
                 father was gay,... I've never told Dylan this,... but he left us 
                    after he met someone he worked with. Dylan's a lot like his 
                 father...." I nodded understandingly. "I guess I shouldn't be too 
                surprised that Dylan is,... well sexually active with you. It's,... 
                well it's only natural for him isn't it. It's just that he's still 
               so young. He's only just turned twelve, and he's quite a bit smaller 
                                     than normal for his age."
                    "Diane,... I'm very careful with him," I said gently, then 
                added, "You have to believe that I would never do anything to hurt 
                                               him."
                    "Well, yes,... but for a boy, doing those things,... having 
                 sex,... it's not easy for him, is it?" Diane asked, the stress in 
                              her voice clearly revealing her worries.
                   "You're right,... it's not easy. It can be quite painful,... 
                at first,.... until he gets,... used to it. Diane,... I don't know 
                 how to say this,... except if Dylan was my son,... I'd be scared 
                                             stiff..."
                  She wiped at her eyes and breathed out, "I,... I get so worried 
                thinking about him,... with Aids and all,... if he,... well,... He 
                said,... he said you didn't use a condom,... he could die,..." she 
                                         choked back a cry.
                   "You have to trust me to do the right thing. I love Dylan, I 
                  love him a great deal,... I'd never do anything to hurt him,... 
                    never. Dylan and I have to trust each other,... if he knows 
                       love,...and we're not promiscuous,... he'll be okay."
                    "Love?" Diane said weakly, "God I hope so! He's so fond of 
                 you,... I've never known him to be this happy, just the last week 
                                even. He,... he needs you, Alex,..."
                     "Dylan needs time, Diane. He needs time to adjust and get 
                 used to what it means to be gay. I need to spend time with him, I 
                  need to love him and help him and be with him. I want to get to 
                                         know him better."
                  "Yes, I s'pose. I know you do. It's what I expected,... I think 
                  when I called you this morning. I know that the two of you need 
                                time together," Diane said quietly.
                   "I want to take Dylan away with me,... for a holiday, Diane. 
                For three weeks, until school starts," I said simply. "I know it's 
                 a long while,... but once he starts back at school we won't have 
                                            much time."
                  "Three weeks,... it is a long while,... I know you'll,... have 
                 sex with him,... but it's,... such a long time. I guess, but take 
                                       him where?" she asked.
                  I felt my heart leap. Unless I was mistaken Dylan's mother had 
                just agreed. "To the Land Between the Lakes, in Kentucky,... I want 
                     to rent a houseboat. I'd like to take him down there this 
                                            afternoon."
                        "Oh! I,... Does Dylan know?" she asked uncertainly.
                    I shook my head, "I'm asking you first. I don't want to get 
                       his hopes up. If you say yes, I want to surprise him."
                  "A honeymoon?" she said, "It is isn't it,... in a way? I guess 
                 so," she said, shaking her head resignedly, "What about your son, 
                                              Kelly?"
                    I nodded, "Kelly will come too. The boys are getting to be 
                best friends. I want Kelly to understand what Dylan and I feel for 
                                  each other before he's too old."
                     "I guess,... there really isn't much difference between a 
                 bedroom in your house or on a houseboat is there?" She smiled and 
                  shrugged, "I'd hoped that Dylan would just spend time with you 
                 around here, well for a year at least, until he understands more. 
                 I guess so, go and tell him so he can pack. His room's a bit of a 
                 mess, he's supposed to clean it up before tonight, but tell it's 
                                          okay to leave."
                  I stood up wanting to thank her but I knew that any words would 
                 be cheap, unable to cover my gratitude to her, to compensate for 
                   the loss she felt. I smiled and she smiled back, resigned but 
                 somehow knowing that she'd made the right decision for her son. I 
                left the room and walked down the hall. The boys were lying on the 
                 floor in Dylan's bedroom playing with model cars. The room was a 
                     typical twelve-year-old boy's bedroom, complete with the 
                   paraphernalia of youth, model cars, trains, boats and planes, 
                trophies mostly for swimming, an assemblage of books and games and 
                everything a boy accumulates. It was mostly a mess! The single bed 
                 was unmade, and it was funny to think that Dylan had slept there 
                 only hours before, that he'd dreamed there, that he'd masturbated 
                there while he pretended he was with me. The door to the closet was 
                 half-open, a few clothes were scattered on the floor. There was a 
                  slight, but distinct odor of boy, the sweet smell of Dylan, his 
                              twelve years spent mostly in this room.
                   The two boys looked so innocent lying there together, pushing 
                   their small plastic vehicles around, making growling sounds, 
                   squealing sounds, simulating a car chase at high speed. Dylan 
                twisted over onto his back and looked up at me, "Well, what did you 
                                 and my mom talk about?" he asked.
                     "It's a surprise. Come on let's get you packed," I teased
                   "Packed? Where am I going? Am I going to stay at your place? 
                 Can I, please, go on say yes, please say yes, please?" The words 
                tumbled out as Dylan leaped to his feet, excitement flashing across 
                                             his face.
                    I shook my head watching as the boy's face registered first 
                shock, then as his excitement deflated I started to laugh, "You're 
                 not staying at my house, Dylan. You're going on a holiday though. 
                               But where?... Now that's a surprise!"
                   The excitement came back in a flash, doubling as the boy let 
                 out a long "Yeahhh!", and then tripling until I thought Dylan was 
                about to lose it. He grinned, turned to Kelly and yelled "Yeahhhh!" 
                                   again at the top of his voice.
                   I shook my head, "Well Dylan, I'm glad you're excited, but we 
                       have to you get packed. We have a long way to drive."
                                  "We're leaving today?" he asked.
                    "In about,... an hour,..."I said, looking at my watch. "Now 
                we need a bag, you got something like that somewhere in this mess?"
                   The boy grinned sheepishly, "It is kinda, isn't it? I didn't 
                  expect you or Kelly, I gotta clean it up before we leave,... I 
                 promised Mom," he said going over to the closet and extracting a 
                                large gym bag from the chaos inside.
                   "That's okay, your mom said to leave it." I went over to the 
                 boy's chest of drawers. "I guess you're going to need a few pairs 
                of underpants and socks," I prompted. Dylan joined me and we filled 
                   the bag in under five minutes, but then a twelve-year-old boy 
                 doesn't need that much on a houseboat besides a swimming costume, 
                a couple of pairs of shorts and a few shirts. I went out to the car 
                with Kelly and waited. I knew that Dylan and his mom would need to 
                 talk for a while. After about ten minutes they came out onto the 
                  porch together. The boy hugged his mother and I watched as she 
                 brushed a tear away. He waved as he trotted down the driveway and 
                            slid into the passenger seat next to Kelly.
                     Then it was home to my house and I called and confirmed a 
                   booking for the honeymooner for three wonderful weeks, wrote 
                directions, gave them my credit card number and hung up. Then there 
                   was a frantic forty minutes of packing clothes, food, games, 
                  fishing equipment, and anything else that conceivably could be 
                useful on a three-week holiday with two boys on a houseboat. It was 
                just after 1.30 pm. when we finished loading the Jeep and I pulled 
                     out onto the street. I had a very long drive ahead of me.
                    I put an Everly Brothers tape in and settled back. The two 
                boys were in the back seat, carrying on like two brothers, teasing, 
                squabbling, playing games, chattering away. It wasn't until we were 
                on the road for about forty minutes that Dylan suddenly looked up, 
                 twisted around and began to search in the back of the Jeep. A few 
                seconds passed, then "Oh Shit!" he said loudly, his voice unusually 
                                               angry.
                                           "Huh?" I said.
                   "Damn! I left my bag in the Corvette, behind the seat,... It 
                                        isn't here at all."
                   I laughed. "Well what's so funny? I don't have any clothes," 
                                          Dylan retorted.
                   "No worries kiddo. I bet that isn't the only thing we forgot. 
                We did leave in kind of a hurry. We can buy you some more stuff.... 
                        In fact I think I know just the place," I answered.
                    I did, about another thirty miles or so down the road there 
                is one of those manufacturer outlet malls that are purported to be 
                 cheaper. I pulled off the freeway and parked the car in front of 
                Bugle Boy. The three of us went in and we were served by a guy who 
                   was obviously a little weird. He looked Dylan up and down and 
                 smiled, "Well, he's a twelve,... a nice slim twelve. He might fit 
                into a ten but he'll grow out of it too fast,... won't he? We have 
                  some nice clothes over there,... very much in fashion too." The 
                 assistant lead the way down through the aisles of clothing. Dylan 
                looked up at me uncertainly. This was the first 'gay' I think he'd 
                              ever seen. I shrugged, the boy smirked.
                   It was a good time to shop, with summer ending, fall clothes 
                   were already on the racks, the previous season's clothes were 
                heavily discounted. I picked out one black and one white tee shirt 
                and matching cotton shorts, the kind with elastic waists and loose 
                legs, for Dylan to 'bum' around in. He went over to the change room 
                to try them on and I browsed around looking for something a little 
                dressier. Kelly meandered off browsing through the aisles. After a 
                few minutes Dylan came back. He was dressed entirely in white. The 
                 boy looked even more beautiful, the white emphasizing his tanned 
                skin, picking up his golden-blond hair and giving him a purity, an 
                innocence that was becoming. He was an angel! He grinned cheekily. 
                 The clothes made him look younger, thiner than he already was. He 
                turned around, the shorts cutting into the boy's crack slightly and 
                    showing the rounded halves of his cheeks. "Pretty sexy!" I 
                                             observed.
                      "Can I have them? Please?" he asked. I nodded and Dylan 
                              stepped forward and gave me a quick hug.
                               "Go put the black ones on," I laughed.
                     Dylan hurried off and came back after a few minutes. The 
                  change in the boy was remarkable. No longer an angel, his blond 
                 hair seemed to glisten like gold in a jewelry store, he radiated 
                an aura that was at once sensual and intense. He looked like a boy 
                prostitute working the streets around 42nd Street in New York City. 
                 The boy sensed the change in himself and he smiled shyly, "Pretty 
                sexy too, huh?" He looked at me uncertainly, "Can I have these too?"
                  I nodded, glancing around to see if anyone could hear us, "You 
                     wear those around me and you know what's going to happen?"
                  Dylan blushed slightly, stepped forward and said quietly, "I'm 
                gonna get fucked?" I grinned at the boy and nodded. Dylan shrugged, 
                                "Okay!" he teased playfully, "When?"
                   I stifled a laugh and handed the boy the pair of denim shorts 
                   and shirt I'd picked up, "You like these too?" The boy looked 
                 uncertainly at the shirt. I smiled, "Okay, it's your turn to pick 
                 something out that you like,... only there's one rule,... no long 
               sleeves, okay." The boy grinned and looked over at a rack of clothes 
                that had first caught his attention. "Sure, what ever you want," I 
                 added. I followed him over and he selected a stripped knit shirt 
                 to go with the shorts I'd picked. "Yeah! You're right, I like it 
                           better too. Go try them on too Dylan," I said.
                    Dylan headed back over to the change area and I ambled over 
                 towards Kelly. He was looking at the fall fashions. This would be 
                the first year I could buy his clothes in the boys' department and 
                   the range of clothes was a lot bigger than in the young boys' 
                                              section.
                   "Hi Daddy," he smiled as I approached, "Dylan looks great, I 
                   love the black ones.... These are nice, aren't they?" he said 
                 pointing to a pair of sweat pants and top. The display model was 
                  bright yellow and edged with purple trim, one-inch wide stripes 
               down the legs and arms, like something a race car driver would wear. 
                 They were expensive at thirty five dollars apiece but the inside 
                of the material was soft and fuzzy and very warm, the kind of thing 
                 that felt wonderful on bare young bodies. He smiled a smile that 
                 was impossible to resist. I picked up one for Kelly, size seven, 
                 and other for Dylan, size twelve, both yellow, both very sexy. I 
                  saw Dylan coming out of the change room and I went back over to 
                him. He looked great in the clothes we'd selected. I picked up two 
                 more pairs of black and white shorts and two tee shirts  as Dylan 
                   went back into the change room to get dressed and collect the 
               clothes he'd left there. Almost as soon as Dylan came back out Kelly 
                came over to us wearing a mischevious grin. "You guys have to come 
                with me. He needs undies too doesn't he Dad? I found some that are 
                                  the same as the ones you wear."
                    I nodded and followed my son towards the back of the store. 
                 There was a couple of stands of deeply discounted clothes, stuff 
                 that never sold, one was underwear. Actually bikini-briefs would 
                  be more accurate. Not the kind of thing that parents bought for 
                  their sons except maybe in California. They were in packages of 
                   three, brightly colored, sometimes neon, sometimes stripes or 
                 patterns. They were a stark contrast to the conservative, hide-it-
                 all design of Jockeys. The store assistant wandered up, "They're 
                on special,... you get three pair in the box for five dollars, but 
               if you buy six or more it's only three dollars." I nodded. The store 
                   assistant  smiled sweetly, too sweetly and he looked at Dylan 
                  appraisingly. "He's quite slender isn't he?... about a 22 or 23 
                inch waist,..." He turned to Kelly, "and the little one is about a 
                   20. They're pretty stretchy so the size really isn't all that 
                  important anyway. These boys could probably even wear the same 
                                               size."
                   "Thanks," I said then looked at the two boys, "You guys pick 
                   out some you want, say six pairs each, okay?" Dylan and Kelly 
                  grinned at each other and went to work, scrambling through the 
                   assorted collection of little plastic boxes to find what they 
                  wanted. The store assistant looked on with obvious interest, I 
                 could feel his eyes feasting on Dylan, almost smelling the man's 
                  arousal. For a few seconds I tolerated his invasion and then I 
                 couldn't stand it any longer, "Let's go ring this other stuff up. 
                             The boys will be finished here in a bit."
                   "Oh!" the assistant said, suddenly startled out of his dream, 
                 "Yes of course," he added and lead the way back to the check-out. 
                 The total bill with tax and three pairs of socks came to a penny 
                 over $170. With the clothes in two large plastic bags, we headed 
                 back the car, the store assistant giving Dylan a long hungry look 
                                    as we went past the window.
                   on the freeway the boys resumed their games and chatter 
                and I sat back watching the miles tick past on the odometer. After 
                   a while they played one of Kelly's computer games, then they 
                  engaged in a squabble about who'd taken a turn out of sequence, 
                  then more computer games, then it was quiet. Too quiet, far too 
                 quiet, and I glanced up in the rear-vision mirror. I couldn't see 
                much unless I strained my neck upwards, changing the angle of view, 
                  I guess I expected to find that the boys had finally dozed off. 
                 They hadn't. I stifled a laugh and watched closely. Kelly was in 
                the act of taking his shorts off, lifting his hips up off the seat 
                 and tugging them downward. Dylan was already naked from the waist 
                 down, his shorts and underpants discarded somewhere on the floor 
                   of the Jeep, even his socks and shoes had disappeared. He was 
                stroking his erect penis with his right hand, slowly, deliberately, 
                 up and down, his fingers pressing gently into the underside, his 
                thumb looped around it. Then Kelly's shorts and underpants were at 
                 his knees, pushed hastily down his little legs and past his feet. 
                His hand went to his genitals. Like Dylan, his penis was erect too, 
                  but his hand moved uncertainly, imitating the older boy sitting 
                next to him. He trembled slightly as the hard little penis reacted, 
                 tingled, throbbed, sending a thrill down his spine that made him 
                 gasp. Dylan whispered something in my son's ear and the two boys 
                smiled. Then Dylan reached over, his hand gently closing around the 
                 almost-seven-year-old boy's penis, moving rhythmically along the 
                 short hard shaft. After a few moments Kelly's small hand slipped 
                  downward, then onto Dylan's thigh, then hesitantly caressed the 
                older boy's penis. They smiled at each other, ready to giggle, each 
                  boy quivering with excitement as they pleasured each other, as 
                Kelly's confidence grew his hand movements became more controlled, 
                 rubbing carefully with short strokes. It was beautiful, sweet and 
                 gentle, not demanding. It was innocent exploration, the two boys 
                  giving freely, shamelessly engaging in a mutual game that made 
                          their young bodies glow with life and happiness.
                   I don't know how long I watched them, occassional glimpses of 
                 bare brown legs and thighs, legs slightly apart, small brown arms 
                 moving, little cocks standing up hard and pround, held tightly in 
                 small hands. By now the freeway was relatively deserted, we were 
                 miles from anywhere, just woods and fields of corn that stretched 
                   away into the distance, small farmhouses and barns dotted the 
                 horizon. It would have been difficult for anyone to see into the 
                back seat of the Jeep, except for a truck driver, and it was Sunday 
                afternoon so there very few trucks. I think that the boys may have 
               known that I realized what they were doing. I didn't care, it seemed 
                very natural. It was part of becoming closer and as the time passed 
                  I wondered how many older brothers had initiated their younger 
                                brother, or, how many best friends.
                  It went on and on, sometimes sharing, sometimes by themselves, 
                exploring, examining, comparing. I was fascinated by the fact that 
                 Dylan's penis wasn't more than half-an-inch longer than Kelly's, 
                   even a bit thiner because Kelly's penis was wedge-shaped, his 
                little balls just a little bit larger. Dylan's penis was more like 
                mine than my own son's penis was. Unable to climax, to achieve the 
                relief from orgasm, the boys' game was endless. On one occassion I 
                glanced up to the mirror and I saw Dylan's face tighten, his teeth 
                clench momentarily, a small but intense convulsion that marked the 
                swift passage of an immature orgasm. But Kelly was still too young 
                to have a build-up phase, for him it was just fun and nice feelings 
                 that went on and on. They did it for more than forty miles, their 
                          healthy young cocks staying rigid the whole way.
                   As we approached the next large town (city) I finally had to 
                  laugh, "Okay you guys back there, I think it's time to pull the 
                      pants up for a while. We're coming into Louisville now."
                    The boys started to giggle. "See I told you he knew, Kelly. 
                 He's been watching us in the mirror since we started," Dylan said 
                unashamedly. I watched as Kelly blushed and Dylan smirked cheekily, 
                  meeting my eyes in the mirror. "Can we wear our new undies?" he 
                                               asked.
                    I tilted the mirror down slightly, aiming back towards the 
                boys, getting a complete view of their bare brown legs, of the pale 
                  flesh of their upper thighs and groins, of their short penises 
                       still erect. "So who's got the biggest one?" I teased.
                   The boys giggled. Dylan answered, "You have!" he said, "Then 
                me!" He yelped as Kelly's hand jerked sharply, a playful tug on the 
                older boy's penis, squeezing as he pulled back, "Yyyouch, heh make 
                him stop,... that hurts," he squealed, amid a flurry of giggles as 
                  he struck back at Kelly. "Okay,... okay,... so Kelly's dick is 
                  fatter than mine,... okay!" he cried as Kelly's grip tightened.
                   "Okay guys," I laughed, "Quieten down and get some clothes on 
                 back there. Yeah Dylan of course you can put your new underpants 
                   on." I watched as he scrambled around in the seat, getting a 
                 fabulous view of his small buttocks as he leaned over the back of 
                 the seat and rifled through the plastic bags. He turned back and 
                    handed one little plastic box to Kelly, keeping another for 
                     himself. I looked away, back to the road as we neared an 
                 interchange, shaking my head in loving exasperation. I loved him, 
                I loved them both. When I looked into the mirror again the boys had 
                their new briefs on, brightly colored, small rounded bulges in the 
                    soft cloth, more pale, untanned skin showing than would be 
                 considered decent by any responsible parent. Then a minute later 
                    the boys were fully dressed again and sitting side by side 
                engrossed in the computer game, both so innocuous and virtuous that 
                   it was almost impossible to imagine them any other way. Their 
                awareness of their sexuality seemed only a momentary lapse from the 
                   innocence of youth as the sensual aspect of their bodies took 
                 control, then quickly relinquished or suppressed until the next, 
                 almost spontaneous ignition occurred. They were, I realized, that 
                 afternoon, both incredibly sexy boys though their sexual desires 
                  were still developing, coming and going almost without warning.
                  We stopped in a town called Henderson for dinner. It was a bit 
                  early but the boys were hungry again and after Henderson there 
                  wasn't much until we arrived. The gas tank on the Jeep was just 
                about empty so I filled up first then went searching. First choice 
                   from the back seat was for pizza and I had every intention of 
                  meeting it. It took a while to find a restaurant that did a bit 
                more than cardboard with sauce but we finally did. Feeding the two 
                 boys was an experience in and of itself. They chattered, gulped, 
                chewed noisily, chattered and gulped some more. They were happy and 
                     excited, but then, so was I, happier than I had ever been.
                   in the car the boys slowly quietened down, the long day, 
                the excitement, finally taking its toll. They didn't sleep, though 
                 I wouldn't have been surprised, they just sat next to each other 
                     and listened to the tapes as they looked out the windows.
                     We arrived about an hour before sunset. The houseboat was 
                 everything I expected.  The manager was on hand  and he showed me 
                  over the boat, giving limited instructions in a southern drawl 
                about starting the engine and other vital mechanical and electrical 
                 equipment. I did my best to listen but it was difficult. The boys 
                went wild! When Leo was indicating on a chart where some nice spots 
                                  were located I finally gave up. 
                    "You guys, stop chasing each other and quieten down. If you 
                 want to help start bringing on the stuff from the Jeep". That was 
                  all it took and the two boys settled down right away, carrying, 
                  lugging, dumping boxes, bags and fishing tackle onto stern deck.
                  "Sorry about not having a boat with bunks for those two kids," 
                        Leo said as he stepped off the boat onto the dock. 
                   I smiled, "Doesn't seem to bother them now. I think I'll use 
                   the couch otherwise they'll keep me awake most of the night."
                   "Kids get excited 'round boats. Those two sure are cute kids 
                 though. Now you guys have fun, 'n I'll see you in three weeks. If 
                         you got a problem you have the number here, okay?"
                    I looked at Dylan and Kelly, they were more than cute, they 
                 were downright  beautiful boys but I wasn't going to say that to 
                 Leo. "Heh Dylan, make yourself useful, go on the bow and when Leo 
                               unties the line, you pull it aboard."
                     "Yeah, sure,... Dad," Dylan called back. My heart leaped.
                  "Kelly you watch out behind me and tell me if I'm going to hit 
                 anything," I said, smiling as I saw my son's small face beam with 
                a flash of recognition. I motored out into the channel and the boys 
                 joined me up on the 'bridge'. Once out of the marina I opened the 
                 throttles and the houseboat picked up speed, skimming across the 
                 almost dead calm water. The sun was just beginning to set, a rosy 
                  red hue that promised a splendid day to come. Once on the other 
                side of the lake and about five miles from the marina we travelled 
                 more slowly, searching for a quiet cove, a break in the shoreline 
                that was unoccupied. After about ten minutes, just as the light was 
                  fading we motored into a small bay, peaceful, secure, private, 
                except for a few dozen ducks. Kelly was yawning and stretching, his 
                    eyes almost closing, as I switched off the outboard engines.
                   I went forward, anchored the boat and then went into the main 
                 cabin, Kelly had already curled up, still in his clothes, asleep 
                  on the king-size bed and Dylan was undressing, his shirt thrown 
                 over the chair, his tanned chest and stomach revealed.

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 He looked 
                  up as I came up next to him. "Kelly went out like a light," he 
                 whispered. Then the twelve-year-old boy smiled sleepily, his own 
                 eyes struggling to stay open, tugging his shorts slowly downward 
                 to his knees. "We can do it,... if you want,..." the boy mumbled, 
                           his voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.
                   For most of the long drive I had thought of little else than 
                   this moment, of taking the boy to me and loving him. Gently I 
                  pressed him back onto the bed next to Kelly and untied his shoe 
                laces, pulled them off, removed his socks and then finished taking 
                 his shorts off. Except for the little neon-blue briefs, Dylan was 
                 naked. I was going to take his underpants off too, to reveal his 
                 magnificent boy-body but he was already sound asleep. Like Kelly, 
                 he too 'went out like a light'. It had been a long day for Dylan 
                  and I leaned forward and gently kissed him on the forehead. His 
                skin was soft and warm and dry and I felt the hot moistness of his 
                breath on my cheek, heard the boy's voice whisper, so quietly that 
                 I could barely hear, ".... love you....", as he faded into sleep. 
                I sat there for a long while watching the two boys sleep, watching 
                the gentle movements of their chests, rising and falling with each 
                     small breath, the little bodies stirring as dreams came. 
                                             Chapter 9
                   I awoke slowly, dreaming of Dylan, of the beautiful naked boy 
                   with his arms wrapped around my waist, his slender brown legs 
                around my buttocks, my penis inserted full depth into his anus. The 
                boy was using all of his strength to lift himself up and down, his 
                muscles straining, driving my cock hard into his body, then pulling 
                 up, sucking loudly as my cock came almost all of the way the way 
                 out, leaving just the head still inside, restricted by the boy's 
                   tight anal band. His mouth was half-open and he was breathing 
                quickly, gasping for air, his hair dishevelled, tiny beads of sweat 
                  on his forehead, his eyes closed. Then his motions became more 
                 frenzied, jerking deliriously, his rectum squeezing, convulsing, 
                 his head throw back, a scream of ecstasy as he climaxed. His body 
                 erupted, from his small boy-penis a spurt of white-hot semen shot 
                 out between our bodies, landing on his chest, then another, more 
                  copious, thicker, like a grown man, his cock throbbing as more 
                 spurts came, unbelievably white and gooey as it drooled down over 
                 his narrow chest and belly. I stirred, sighing, trying to change 
                 the outcome of my dream, trying to reverse and then replay Dylan 
                the way he was. Still not awake but semi-conscious, my eyes closed, 
                        I lay still as the outside world became real again.
                    "Look at Daddy's penis, it's huge isn't it? Isn't it stiff? 
                          Is it always this stiff?" I heard Kelly whisper.
                    "Huh? Yeah,..." Dylan whispered back, "Isn't it 'awesome'? 
                        Stop wriggling 'round Kelly or you'll wake him up."
                   It took all my concentration to prevent a smile as the boys' 
                 words entered my world. I sighed gently, then made my chest rise 
                          and fall with each deep breath, feigning sleep.
                   "Can I touch it?" Kelly whispered, shifting slightly so that 
                                        he was closer to me.
                      "No dummy, that'll wake him for sure," Dylan admonished.
                  "I like how it looks without any hair, it's funny,... it looks 
                              so smooth like that," my son whispered.
                     "Yeah! It looks like ours, like he's still just a little 
                 kid,... except his dick is a whole lot bigger,..." Dylan giggled.
                    "Do you think my penis will be that big when I'm grown up?" 
                                            Kelly asked.
                    "I guess,... you're his kid,... you'll probably be as big I 
                s'pose. Your dick is already pretty big compared to mine isn't it," 
               Dylan said. There was a note of sadness, regret, even a little shame 
                 in the older boy's voice. For some reason every boy is sensitive 
                about the size of his penis. Boys like Dylan that are smaller than 
                               average are always at a disadvantage.
                  "Does Daddy's penis really go inside your bottom?" Kelly asked 
                                        after a long pause.
                   "Huh huh", Dylan responded uncertainly. There was no denying 
                    the urge that grew inside him even now, the desire becoming 
                 stronger ever second that he lay there next to me. The boy's pale-
                blue eyes were glued to my erect penis, remembering the sensations 
                he'd already experienced. The pain at first, the terror as the huge 
                cock sunk into him, the pressure building until he thought his body 
                would explode, then the bruising endless thrusting that lifted him 
                up even as the cock pounded down in his buttocks, down into the pit 
                 of his belly, until every part of his young body was concentrated 
                 below his spine. Part of him had hated it at first, tried to deny 
                that it had ever happened, demanded that he resist, then only a few 
                   hours later in the dark bedroom he had conquered the hatred, 
                 understood that he could never deny it again. The truth had risen 
                 up inside him, he had discovered his true self that afternoon at 
                  the farm. Even now Dylan knew that his own small cock was hard, 
                pointing stiffly out into the nylon of his new briefs. There was a 
                 feeling in his belly, or rather deep inside his body, that gnawed 
                              hungrily, a void demanding to be filled.
                   "How far, Dylan,... you know,... how far inside does it go?" 
                   Kelly whispered, bringing Dylan back from his silent thoughts.
                  "Huh? Oh!,... Pretty far,... mostly the whole way in I guess," 
                Dylan whispered, remembering, feeling a sudden rush of excitement, 
                   now very aware of the demanding, aching presence of the void, 
                 making his sphincter tighten though not uncomfortably, squeezing 
                on his bowel again and again. "Yeah, his dick goes in pretty far," 
                                   he added proudly for emphasis.
                  "But,... doesn't it hurt, Dylan? I mean,... well Daddy's penis 
                is so big,... and well,... your bottom isn't that big,... He really 
                 puts it in where you poop?" Kelly asked curiously. Confronted by 
                 my erect penis, I could hear that the younger boy was frightened 
                    as he considered what the answer to his question would mean.
                     "Yeah! It hurts,... at first it hurt like hell,... but I 
               didn't tell him. I knew he wanted to do it to me so much. Then after 
                 a bit it doesn't,... well hurt as much,...well only it does, but 
                  it's different. It gets kinda stretched back there, in my butt-
                 hole,... Don't be a dummy, Kelly, of course that's where he puts 
                 it in me," Dylan whispered. I sensed Dylan's hand move slightly, 
                 dropping downward, then his small fingers enclosing, squeezing on 
                the swollen rounded end of his penis where it is the most sensitive.
                     "Wow!" Kelly breathed out in awe, "It must be really big 
                     inside you. Does he do pee in you? the younger boy asked 
                                            uncertainly.
                     Dylan giggled for a moment, "Not that big, like I said it 
                 stretches inside me so he fits, at first it's really tight inside 
                 if he just puts his finger in, then it gets loose after a bit. 'n 
                he does pee inside me Kelly, he puts his sperm in me," he whispered.
                         "Huh? Well,... but what's,... sperm?" Kelly asked 
                                           persistently.
                    "It's 'come',... what he makes babies with,... what he made 
                   you with,... only he put it inside your mom," Dylan answered 
                 patiently, then added as an after thought, "It's white and kinda 
                 thick and creamy. You don't get it until you're older,... like a 
                                             teenager."
                   "So you and Daddy are making babies! I knew you were!" Kelly 
                                       said with conviction.
                    "Don't be dumb Kelly. I'm a boy, I can't have a baby, only 
                                    girls can," Dylan retorted.
                    "Okay, so why does he put his stuff in your bottom,... his 
                                   sperm stuff?" Kelly continued.
                   "'cause,... well 'cause it makes him feel good,... and me too 
                 I guess,... It makes both of us feel good inside Kelly,..." Dylan 
                 said as he looked down at my still erect penis, no longer excited 
                 by my dream but by the boys instead. "It's,... well it's kind of 
                 special, Kelly. I think it is anyway. I don't know why,... maybe 
                because part of him is inside me,... after he takes his dick out." 
                 In those last few seconds Dylan's breathing had quickened and his 
                voice became increasingly husky and strained. I had a good idea of 
                                     what was on Dylan's mind.
                  The boys were quiet for a minute and I considered 'waking' up, 
               fairly certain of what awaited me. I liked the thought of what Dylan 
                                        had in store for me.
                       "Dylan,... can I,... ask you something?" Kelly began 
                             awkwardly, his voice trembling nervously.
                  "Yeahhh," Dylan said huskily, his fingers squeezing harder and 
                faster on his rigid penis, rubbing the little head with his thumb, 
                                        "Yeahhh what Kelly?"
                               "Well,... can I watch?" Kelly mumbled.
                     "Huh?" Dylan sighed, moving his legs apart slightly, then 
                trembling as he squeezed his hand, rubbing on the short hard shaft 
                of his penis, massaging his little testicles under the nylon of his 
                  bikini briefs, then pulling his legs back together again as the 
                                     pleasure mounted swiftly.
                   "Can I,... watch,... you know what you do with Daddy... Can I 
                  watch him put his penis in your bottom,... can I?" Kelly asked 
                                             urgently.
                   "Huh? You already saw that,... on the farm," Dylan said, "on 
                                  Saturday,...have you forgotten?"
                     "No,... well,... but I didn't see that,... I saw you both 
                   naked,... and I could see Daddy moving,... and you were kinda 
                crying and jerking around on the bed,... but I didn't see,... that 
                in your bottom," the younger boy answered. I knew Kelly had pointed 
                 to my cock, I heard the peculiar mixture of fear and respect, the 
               wonder that a young boy feels when he is first confronted by a man's 
                 erect penis, the tumescent power that commands obeisance, his own 
                               small penis neglected and depreciated.
                  "Yeah,... I s'pose Kelly,... but you dad might not,... I guess 
                     I don't mind but you can't ever tell anyone," Dylan said.
                  This was as good a time as any to wake up. I shifted, stirred, 
                  sighed, rolled over slightly towards Dylan so that my nose was 
                  pressed into his bare shoulder. He was warm and soft and sweet-
                 smelling. "Hmmmmm," I sighed, then I licked the boy's skin. Dylan 
                  giggled as I licked again, downwards towards his tiny nipple. I 
                 touched the softness of the little mound of flesh, probed with my 
                tongue, then nipped it lightly. "Hmmmmm, you taste soooo goooood," 
                                              I said.
                   The older boy giggled again, "Hi! I thought you'd never wake 
                 up.... It's almost nine.... Kelly and I've been awake for a long 
                                              while."
                  I started to laugh, unable to hold back any longer as I lifted 
                 myself up, then scrambling over Dylan, pressing him back into the 
                 bed, my legs either side of his, taking my weight on my arms. "So 
                  Dylan,... I hear you like having my sperm in you?" I teased, my 
                    cock jerking and throbbing hungrily as it protruded outward 
                   pointing downward slightly toward the boy lying underneath me.
                    The boy looked up into my eyes, and he smirked obscenely as 
                 he nodded, "I like it when you 'come'. It's awesome, you get all 
                   shaky and wild-looking." He reached up, pulling my head down 
                  towards him as he lifted up to meet me. The kiss was sweet and 
                 gentle, Dylan's little tongue probing for mine, then as my tongue 
                found his, his mouth opened wide and he sucked me back, taking all 
                  of my tongue before his own came swirling back to embrace me. I 
                 lowered my hips, pressing down onto Dylan, taking just enough of 
                 my weight on my knees and elbows so that he wasn't uncomfortable. 
                  I felt the boy's hard little penis squished under my belly, his 
                slender arms locked tightly around my neck. My own cock lay in the 
                   gap between his legs, the engorged head pressed hard into his 
                little soft scrotum, forcing his tiny delicate balls to the sides. 
                  I knew what I wanted, I was pretty sure about I knew what Dylan 
                                              wanted.
                    I heard Kelly chanting childishly, "... Daddy and Dylan are 
                     in love. Daddy and Dylan are in love. Dylan and Daddy are 
                kissing...." but I ignored him. I kissed Dylan again and again, his 
                hot wet mouth sealed to mine, his tongue pushing up, exploring all 
                  the way into my mouth, my hips thrusting gently, making my cock 
                   pulse forward into the rounded little hemisphere of the boy's 
                              balls, rubbing his small cock under me. 
                     Playfully slurping noisily as he broke the suction, Dylan 
                pulled his mouth from mine, "You wanna fuck me?" the boy whispered 
                                     in my ear, "'cause I do."
                  I grinned at him, my face only inches away from his. "You fell 
                                   asleep last night", I teased.
                        Dylan grinned back, "So! I'm not sleepy now, am I?"
                   "No," I laughed, "You certainly aren't. My little friend down 
                                   there feels pretty hard too." 
                      "Yeah! So's mine... So you wanna?" Dylan asked huskily.
                      "Heh Dad, Dylan says he doesn't care if I watch," Kelly 
                                blurted out, "So can I?... Please?"
                  I glanced sideways at my son. He was sitting up looking at us. 
                    He'd taken his clothes off, everything except his pink-neon 
                  underpants, so that like Dylan, he was nearly naked. The little 
                 pointed tent in his new nylon briefs was unmistakable. I glanced 
                 back at the boy underneath me, he shrugged and then smiled shyly, 
                 "I don't care if he sees everything,... he's gonna see us sooner 
                 or later. I guess the sooner he knows what happens, then he won't 
                                             bug us." 
                    Dylan's logic was irrefutable. Get rid of the younger boy's 
                                 curiosity and he'd leave us alone.
                   I turned to Kelly, "Okay, but just this time. You have to do 
                   us a favor first," I said. Kelly grinned at Dylan and nodded 
                  obediently, his eagerness clearly displayed. "Okay, go get the 
                little jar of yellow stuff out of my bag, I think I left it on the 
                 couch outside." Kelly hurried off and I turned my attention back 
                to Dylan. We kissed urgently, hungrily, enjoying the privacy we now 
                 had together. With our mouths stilled locked together I carefully 
                 rolled off Dylan and onto the bed, twisted back and with my left 
                hand tugged the boy's blue-neon briefs downward, my fingers crooked 
                                 under the thin elastic waist-band.
                  The tip of Dylan's penis caught under the waist-band, levering 
                it downward, then suddenly, loudly it came free and smacked against 
                 his flat brown belly. "Ouch", Dylan complained, though now happy 
                               to be free of the constraining cloth.
                   "Sorry," I teased as I pulled the offending briefs downward, 
                "Dylan junior sure is hard isn't he. I s'pose that hurts more than 
                                getting him stuck in a zipper huh,?"
                    "Yeah! You gotta be more careful. He's just a little guy," 
                Dylan answered as his feet came through the briefs and he was naked 
                and exposed. "Yeahhhh!" he sighed, his slender legs parting wider, 
                      his hips pushing upward to make his cock surge forwards.
                    I leaned forward over the boy kissing him again as my eyes 
                   travelled down his slim body, his small thin penis suspended 
                  parallel to his belly, his balls shrivelled up beneath, then I 
                 followed my eyes down with my fingers and lips, kissing his neck 
                 and shoulders, tracing circles on his chest, teasing his nipples, 
                then kissing his chest, his belly, tracing his firm stomach muscles 
                  down to his groin, then feeling the hard hot head of his penis 
                 between my lips as my fingers enclosed the slightly moist heat of 
                his scrotum, squeezing on the precious cargo within as gently as I 
                  could. Although this certainly wasn't the first time I felt the 
                boy's testicles, I was suddenly very aware of the delicate skin of 
                  the boy's pouch, the size of his testicles, barely bigger than 
                 marbles, the role that they would eventually play as he grew into 
                manhood. Parts of my dream returned and I felt sad that eventually 
                       Dylan would no longer be the same boy that he was now.
                     "Daddy's sucking on Dylan's penis," Kelly chanted in his 
                     teasing sing-song voice. He stood in the doorway, clearly 
                     fascinated, obviously very excited, fingers enclosing and 
                 squeezing on the bulge in his briefs, cupping between his little 
                brown legs, working his fingers into the underside of his ball-sac.
                  Dylan was not one to teased at a time like this, "So! So what? 
                 I love it when he does this to me. It feels awesome! Did you get 
                      what he wanted?" he asked, challenging the younger boy.
                    "'couldn't find it. I looked all over too," Kelly retorted 
                                              angrily.
                    I sighed, knowing it was there, reluctant to get up and go 
                  look for it myself. Finally I pulled my head away from Dylan's 
                throbbing, now-very wet cock. "Okay, well go out there and find the 
                bottle of vegetable oil,... it's got Crisco,... C-R-I-S-C-O- on the 
                 label,... it's for cooking,... it's with the food things," I said.
                     "Okay,... but well,... why do you need it?" Kelly asked, 
                 "'cause I thought you were going to fuck Dylan," he giggled, then 
                            added, "'n his skin isn't that dry anyway."
                     "Well Dylan needs something to make him slippery inside. 
                Otherwise it would really hurt a lot," I answered, "Go and get the 
                                       oil tiger," I added. 
                    Kelly disappeared again, a few seconds passed, sounds as he 
                   looked though the boxes, then he padded back into the bedroom 
                carrying the bottle of Crisco. "This it?" he asked as he placed it 
                                            in my hand. 
                      I nodded and unscrewed the cap. "Okay Dylan, assume the 
                 position, kiddo. On your belly, butt up, and part those beautiful 
                cheeks of yours," I laughed. Dylan complied eagerly, crouching down 
                 with his buttocks lifted up, his small thin fingers grasping each 
                 pale smooth cheek and pulling them apart to reveal the length of 
                his crack. I smeared my fingers into the crevice, running from his 
                  little scrotum all the way up to his spine. Dylan sighed, then 
                     sighed again as my fingers returned, pausing at the soft 
                indentation of his anus. I wasn't sure that it would do the job but 
                 there was only one way to find out. The amber-yellow oil was cool 
               and it glistened on my fingers, it was slippery and oily, not greasy 
                like Vaseline. I pressed my forefinger into the boy's bud, felt him 
                tremble at the contact, the momentary resistance, the quiver of his 
                  sphincter, the flesh parting as my finger penetrated the boy's 
                 tight anal band. The warmth and pressure inside Dylan's body was 
                 instantaneous. He gasped, then breathed out as he felt my finger 
                surge forward, a relentless pressure driving into his body slowly, 
                a spasm as his muscle instinctively contracted on the foreigner. I 
                  twisted my finger down, grinding into the boy's prostate. Dylan 
                 yelped, a sudden intake of breath, then breathing out slowly, so 
                slowly that it turned into a long drawn out moan as the incredible 
                 pleasure he'd discovered within his body returned again. "Yeahhhh 
                 Yeahhhh! Do it there,...that's soooo good!" he whimpered, taking 
                his hands away from his buttocks and using them to hold the pillows 
                                     at his face and shoulders.
                      Kelly looked on, visibly enthusiastic, captivated as he 
                watched the older boy writhing, pushing back, demanding more of my 
                finger, his gasps increasing in intensity with every second. After 
                a few more minutes I eased my finger out. Already Dylan's anus was 
                dilated, not fully, but enough that it didn't close up again as my 
                  finger pulled free. I picked up the bottle of oil, then lifting 
                Dylan's buttocks higher, and pushing his cheeks apart, I placed the 
                opening of the bottle at the boy's anus. I squeezed gently, forcing 
                 the oil bottle forward so that the openings were sealed together. 
                Dylan shivered slightly as he felt the coolness of the oil seeping 
                down into his rectum. A little escaped, dribbling down his crevice 
                   and onto the wrinkled little ball-sac, then dripping onto the 
                 sheet. I didn't care but I was glad that I'd decided to bring our 
                  own sheets and towels. I stopped when I figured there was a bit 
                    less than a half of a cup of oil inside him. Dylan crouched 
                 uncertainly, feeling the coolness inside his body fade slowly, a 
                warm pleasant sensation. He looked back over his shoulder, "Put it 
                                 in," he said, his voice breaking.
                   I needed no further invitation, I laced the bottle of oil on 
                 the night-stand and ran my oil covered hand up and down the shaft 
                of my cock, making it glisten. I moved until I was kneeling behind 
                 the boy and I came forward as I leaned over him, bringing my hips 
                  towards his buttocks. The boy tensed as he felt my cock probing 
                 into his crack, locate the soft hot opening, then press forward, 
                burrowing into him. The oil made a remarkable difference. His anal 
                  band resisted my entry valiantly for a few seconds, then in the 
               slippery oil, I slid through. Unused to my cock going in so quickly, 
                 Dylan shuddered and tried to pull away but I held him tightly by 
                 the hips and I pushed until I knew that the boy was on the verge 
                of panic. He was shaking like a fish on a spear, impaled on my cock 
                 without warning. Already I was about half in. I held onto the boy 
                 tightly as his struggles passed, becoming feeble, then finally he 
                was quiet, breathing deeply, his anal band stretched tightly around 
                 my cock. I began to thrust, using slow gentle motions, moving my 
                cock little more than a fraction of an inch. Then as he loosened a 
                bit more I began to move a more, still not more than an inch, each 
                 time going just a little deeper until enough of my cock, probably 
                 five inches or more, had disappeared and my balls were beginning 
                 to slap against Dylan's small scrotum with every thrust forward. 
                     Kelly was squatting on the bed watching us, watching the 
                 rhythm of my body against Dylan's body, watching the boy shudder 
                 and gasp every few seconds, twitching as spasms continued to pass 
                 through him without warning. "Aren't you hurting Dylan?" he asked 
                                           me nervously.
                     I was about to say no, that the boy was okay, when Dylan 
                 twisted his head around towards Kelly. I saw Dylan smile weakly, 
                 then shaking his head he said hoarsely, "No,... he's,... not,... 
                       hurting,... me.... I,.... feel,... so good,...inside."
                  I felt happy with about five inches inside the boy, his rectum 
                 was tight and it seemed that if I pushed any further the head of 
                  my cock was forced into a very sensitive place that resisted my 
                  deeper progression. It was, I thought, probably the end of his 
               rectum as it turned to the side and merged into his large intestine. 
                I had no desire to displace his insides or rupture his bowel. Dylan 
                seemed comfortable at that point as well, a little deeper, a little 
                  greater pressure and I could sense his body fighting the sudden 
                 pain that welled up inside him. I began to move my hips a little 
                 faster, building up the rhythm and allowing my cock to pull back 
                 further and further in the slippery hot flesh. It was like being 
                inside a tube, a very hot and alive tube, every movement of my body 
                 transferred directly into Dylan's body and every movement of his 
                 came back into mine. We were joined as one, inseparably moving as 
                    one, sharing just five inches of our bodies, yet each of us 
                 concentrating all of our feelings, every sensation. It seemed as 
                if our entire beings were located there, as if we existed only for 
                 the overpowering delight that began at the base of Dylan's spine 
                                and ended in my hard throbbing cock.
                   With my cock still embedded inside the boy I carefully rolled 
               the two of us onto the bed so that we were lying on our sides, Dylan 
                 facing towards Kelly. He was curled up slightly, his knees drawn 
                 up towards his chest as though he was still crouching on the bed. 
                 My body followed Dylan's, curving behind his back, my hand around 
                 the boy's waist, gently stroking his little navel. I couldn't see 
                the expression on Dylan's face but I could see Kelly's. It was one 
                 of wonder, of rapture, of delight. I doubted whether it was that 
                much different from the expression on Dylan's face, except that the 
                  older boy was in considerably greater ecstasy. In this position 
                 Kelly could see very little of what I was doing to the older boy 
                 and it upset him, for a moment he leaned forward on his haunches, 
                   peering down between us, now unsatisfied, his view obstructed 
                          almost completely, he straightened up, pouting.
                    I smiled at my nearly-seven-year-old son, fascinated by his 
                 sexual interest, wondering what thoughts were passing through his 
                     small head as he watched. I knew that he'd been extremely 
                interested, perhaps entranced would be a better word, as he watched 
                my thighs moving back and forth against Dylan's small pale buttocks 
               even though he could have seen very little from where he was. Sooner 
                 or later Kelly would have to know what my love for Dylan actually 
                 entailed and this seemed like as good a time as any. I placed my 
                 hand on Dylan's upper leg, sliding my fingers between his leg and 
                thigh, behind his knee. Slowly I lifted his leg upward, he shifted 
                 uncomfortably as his legs came apart and my cock moved inside his 
                belly changing the position of the pressure within him. I held his 
                  slender leg high in the air, almost perpendicular to his body, 
                revealing his genitals, exposing the both mine and the boy's body. 
                 I looked over his shoulder, seeing Kelly staring between Dylan's 
                 legs, his mouth open in amazement, his eyes wide, focused on the 
                older boy's penis, then the sudden realization that he was looking 
                                at my penis disappearing into Dylan.
                    Dylan's penis was limp, retracted slightly into his body so 
                that it was barely two inches long, his testicles had tightened in 
                 a small knot of crinkled flesh, fine corrugations criss-crossing 
                    over the taut pouch, a little fold of skin running from the 
               underside as it followed the line of his urethra back into his crack 
                before it merged into his body. Two inches further along the boy's 
                 crack and the dark ring of his anus was stretched impossibly wide 
               around my cock and forced inwards. Like an O ring, it formed a tight 
                 seal, swelling around the underside of my cock, but the seal was 
                 imperfect, both mine and Dylan's cock and balls were coated with 
                the glistening oil that seeped out, a little amber-colored trickle 
                 running down the length of the boy's crack. About two inches were 
                   still outside, the rest contained deep inside Dylan's body. I 
                 pulled back gently, withdrawing almost all the way until only the 
                swollen helmet head of my cock was still inside, the flange pulling 
                  into the boy's anal band, ready to pop free. I saw Kelly's eyes 
                staring as my cock came into view, the boy's anus pulling back with 
                it slowly, trying to hold on before the friction was broken. Dylan 
                groaned, feeling the pressure fading, the void forming inside him. 
                 Then gently I thrust my cock back into Dylan, sliding on the oil 
                slicked flesh until my balls pressed into his cheeks. Dylan groaned 
                 again as my cock filled him, surging past his aching prostate. I 
                paused letting the boy relax, his ragged breathing slowing rapidly 
                                   until he was breathing deeply.
                     "It doesn't hurt him," Kelly whispered, "Your penis is in 
                              Dylan nearly all the way and he's okay."
                    I nodded, feeling Dylan's sphincter tighten involuntarily, 
                momentarily grasping on my cock. "He likes it Kelly, if I move very 
                                   gently,... he likes it a lot."
                    "But,... well Daddy if he likes it,... so much,... then,... 
                well,... why is his penis so soft? You said it gets hard when he's 
                excited. Your's is really hard but Dylan's isn't!" my son observed.
                    "That's because all of the good feelings that Dylan has are 
                deep inside him, not outside on his penis, Kelly. Inside his body, 
                 where my penis is right now there is a very sensitive place, his 
                prostate, and my penis rubs against it. A little bit further inside 
                 is his bladder, remember I said that was where he stores his pee, 
                sometimes my penis pushes into his bladder. That feels so good that 
               it makes him lose control a bit, so he pees a little bit at a time," 
                                              I said.
                    "Like before, at the farm, when there was pee in his belly 
                      button?" Kelly asked curiously. He looked down at Dylan 
                 thoughtfully, "But,... well why doesn't his penis feel good now?" 
                                        he asked doubtfully.
                   "Because I'm not touching it right now. If I was Kelly, he'd 
                  be nice and hard, just like you are," I grinned, looking at the 
                            little 'stick' poking out in Kelly's briefs.
                   My son glanced down between his legs and smirked back at me, 
                  "Can I,... can I make Dylan's penis stiff like mine?" he asked.
                   I nodded, and Kelly reached forward tentatively, the tips of 
                his little fingers gently stroking the wrinkles in the other boy's 
                     scrotum. "Squeeze his balls Kelly, just a little bit," I 
                 instructed, "Kind of roll them between your fingers,... he likes 
                that a lot," I smiled as Dylan whined in delight. "Don't do it too 
                hard, he's still a little boy and his balls are very sensitive,... 
                we don't want to hurt him,... just make him feel good," I added as 
                                Kelly's fingers tightened slightly.
                   "Oh!... Sorry Dyl," he murmured. The older boy, his face half-
                 hidden in the pillows, shook his head, gasping as my cock became 
                    alive inside him again, pumping steadily but very carefully.
                    "Wow! That's incredible," Kelly said, "I can see your penis 
                 moving in Dylan's Tammy. It's making it bulge out as you push it 
                                      in and out," he giggled.
                  I looked down along Dylan's body, he was shaking slightly, his 
                   bottom leg trembling, twisting. Kelly was right, there was a 
                  distinct movement in Dylan's lower belly, a kind of bulge that 
                  moved up towards his navel as I pushed in, then down again as I 
                  pulled back. I had never noticed it before, never realized what 
                happened as my cock filled him, displacing his insides, suddenly I 
               felt intensely proud of the naked boy lying before me. I eased back, 
                  taking my hand away from Dylan's leg and placing it flat on his 
                lower belly. As I pushed back I felt his belly surge, a hard bulge 
                   that was the head of my cock deep within him. I felt the same 
                 intense thrill that I had known the first time that I felt Kelly 
                  moving inside his mother's body. It felt alive, and very, very 
                          special. "You feel okay Dylan?" I asked gently.
                    The boy nodded abruptly, his unkempt hair an unruly mess of 
                 silky golden-blond strands. I put my hand back under Dylan's leg 
                  and continued to move slowly going as deep as I could until the 
                  boy's body resisted me. Slowly Kelly teased Dylan's small penis 
                 into responding, then as the blood flow increased, the older boy 
                 stiffened rapidly, his small cock springing up until it was rigid 
                  and almost unyielding. The minutes passed as I began to move a 
                little faster, as Kelly's hand fluttered urgently, stroking Dylan's 
                little penis feverishly. Then without warning Dylan began to writhe 
               on the bed, trying to grind his hips back onto my cock while working 
                his cock against Kelly's hand, "Faster,.... okay,..." he hissed as 
                  he breathed rapidly, short panting breaths that didn't fill his 
                lungs. I watched as he began to strain, felt his rectum squeezing, 
                   forcing himself onto my cock, trying to increase the already 
                    unbearable pressure on his immature prostate. His legs were 
                quivering, his arms jerking, then his body arched back against mine 
                 and I could feel every muscle in that slight body straining hard, 
                    the muscles in his belly standing out as he tensed, then he 
                 convulsed with a sudden squeal from deep in his belly, shuddering 
                 as his body began to twitch. I stopped moving, taking my cock out 
                 almost to the rim of his anus, leaving just enough inside so that 
                I still possessed him but giving him the relief that he desperately 
                 needed. A couple of pale watery droplets of urine dribbled out of 
                  the end of his penis, running down the swollen little shaft and 
                                       wetting Kelly's hand.
                   "What happened to Dylan, Daddy? Why did he go all funny like 
                      that?...He did pee pee again too, Daddy," Kelly smirked.
                     I grinned at my son, "Dylan had what's called an orgasm, 
                  Kelly. It's when all his feelings come at once, and he feels so 
                 wonderful inside that he can't control himself. It's not a proper 
                 orgasm, like he'll have when he's older, when his sperm will come 
                out, but it's still an orgasm. You helped him, Kelly,... by rubbing 
                    on his penis, you made him feel 'specially nice down there."
                   I let the boy relax, waiting for the tremors to pass, for his 
                body to regain it's control, knowing that I could keep on and he'd 
                 have more, several more before I finished. His body had loosened 
                  even further, the sphincter dilating fully, allowing my cock to 
                slide back into him, now his rectum felt less like a slippery pipe 
                 than it did his mouth, the soft hot tissue enveloping my cock. It 
                was wetter, juicier than it had been before, almost as if a copious 
                 flow of mucous had been part of his orgasm. My cock moved easily 
                 now, there was little resistance, just the ever-present tightness 
                 of his anal band like a ring around my cock shaft, the suction of 
                 my cock caused mostly by the slippery juice that oozed around my 
                                               cock.
                               "It feels really loose Dylan," I said.
                      "Yeah! Yeah I know, I feel like,... like jelly inside."
                   Kelly grinned, "That was cool Dylan, you went wild for a bit, 
                                 like you were crazy or something."
                      "I'm sorry I peed on your hand, Kelly," Dylan said with 
                 effort, his body drained from the effort of the last few minutes, 
                                    "I,... I couldn't help it."
                   "It's okay Dyl, really I don't mind,... It sure smells kinda 
                funny, though," Kelly added. He was right, the smell wafted up from 
                  between our bodies, the odor was distinct and not unpleasant, a 
                 sweet smell, not of faeces, but musky. Kelly grinned at Dylan as 
                   he identified it's source, "It's coming from Dylan, Daddy. He 
                     smells like bread, like right before it goes in the oven."
                   I nodded, my son had described it perfectly, a sweet, yeasty 
                 smell, like the smell a child gets when he has a very high fever. 
                "It's from inside his body, Kelly. And you're right, it does smell 
                                       like that doesn't it?"
                    I began a slow regular rhythm, moving my hips backward and 
                forward as I rocked against the boy's buttocks. There was no rush, 
                 I wanted to savor every blessed wonderful feeling of being inside 
                    my beautiful young boy. After his orgasm Dylan's penis had 
                subsided, no longer erect, but not soft either, it was rubbery and 
                   firm, still slightly elongated, and non-responsive to Kelly's 
                    gently moving hand. My son turned to me curiously, "What's 
                   wrong,... why won't it get hard again like before?" he asked 
                         nervously, "Did I hurt it,... or break something?"
                    I grinned and shook my head, "No Kelly, he's okay,... he's 
                tired that's all, and his penis is sleepy,... like after you've had 
                                      a big dinner," I added.
                          Kelly giggled, "Okay, but what should I do now?"
                   I shrugged, "Whatever you want... Maybe Dylan would like you 
                         to play with his balls... Why don't you ask him?"
                     Dylan looked up at Kelly and smiled, still exhausted but 
                 sympathetic to the younger boy's need to participate. "Yeah", he 
                  said hoarsely, twisting his head around so that he looked at me 
                 over his shoulder, "Can I have him suck me,... like you did?" he 
                                              asked. 
                    I shook my head, "Kelly's not ready for that yet Dylan, not 
                 like this anyway, not now, okay." Dylan nodded. "Kelly just play 
               with his balls the way you were before,... or if you want, let Dylan 
                                      do your penis instead."
                      My son grinned and complied willingly with the my last 
                suggestion, quickly sitting back on the bed and tugging his little 
                  pink-neon briefs off. He tossed them onto the floor and settled 
                 back with his head in the pillows next to Dylan, his body facing 
                  towards the older boy. Dylan reached forward, taking the boy's 
                 small hard penis between his fingers, rubbing on the tiny helmet-
                 shaped tip, the minute slit barely visible. I was still thrusting 
                   gently into Dylan, feeling the fabulous lubricity of his body 
                working against mine, I planned to keep doing it for a long while, 
                  pausing whenever I felt my own orgasm approach. I watched Dylan 
                 masturbating Kelly, his hand moving awkwardly, stroking the short 
                hard shaft with difficulty as he tried to concentrate on pleasuring 
                    the younger boy while at the same time his own delight was 
                boundless. After a few minutes Kelly began to reciprocate, fondling 
                   Dylan's delicate balls, trying hard to renew the older boy's 
                erection. It was difficult for both boys, I could see that Kelly's 
                  heart wasn't in it. After a few minutes he lost interest and he 
                 took his hand away. "I'm hungry, Daddy," Kelly announced curtly, 
                 as he sat up again and swung his legs off the bed, "You guys have 
                           fun fucking, I'm gonna get somethin' to eat."
                   He padded, almost noiselessly out of the room. "What's wrong 
                  with Kelly?" Dylan asked quietly, "He's acting like he's angry".
                     I shrugged, "Jealous of all the attention you're getting 
                 probably. Don't worry, he'll get over it," I whispered in Dylan's 
                ear. Lovingly I touched his soft ear lobe with my tongue, pressing 
                 it close to his head, burying my nose into his soft hair, "I love 
                  you Dylan Brady, Kelly has to understand what that means. That 
                 we'll be together sometimes, we'll do things that he can't always 
                                            be part of."
                     "Yeah, I know,... I love you too... Holy shit! Alex, that 
                  feels so good,... when you do it slow like that... It feels all 
                mushy inside me.... But Kelly's part of us too,... Well I like him 
                  a lot,... I always wished I had a baby brother," Dylan murmured.
                     "In a way, well I guess you do," I said gently, pushing a 
                little deeper into the boy, until his resistance increased, before 
                           backing away. "God you feel wonderful Dylan."
                    It seemed endless, our bodies moving relentlessly, right up 
                to the point of my orgasm before I eased off, taking Dylan over the 
                precipice time and time again until the boy was almost unconscious, 
                  his body drained, his young strength exhausted. Then I felt the 
               point of no return, realized that this time I was going to be unable 
                 to hold back, and I began to pump faster. Dylan summoned the last 
                 of his energy, thrusting back against me as hard as he could, his 
                hips moving feebly, his pitiful gasps coming between barely audible 
                 moans. For a while my cock hadn't been all that hard, but it was 
                 hard enough to keep Dylan very, very happy. It hardened again in 
                   those last few seconds, my orgasm imminent, then as I thrust 
                wildly, my body flailing, my hands grasping the boy's hips so that 
                we were locked together, I felt my orgasm bursting up the shaft of 
                   my cock and spurting again and again deep inside Dylan's body.
                   And then it was over, as the dying spasms made my cock jerk, 
                    I dropped back, my heart pounding, gasping for air, totally 
                 drained, my cock pulling free of the boy's body so that the final 
                spurt came over the pale, glistening skin of his cheeks, dribbling 
                down onto the bed. I hugged Dylan to me, he was sobbing, not crying 
                        but close to it, trembling as his own delight faded.
                    Minutes passed, long slow minutes until the heat in Dylan's 
                slender body passed, until his rapid breathing quietened, until his 
                  heart slowed, until the longing that continued deep inside his 
                  belly faded. Then I sensed that the boy had dozed off, finding 
                 relief in sleep. I held him closely, pressing into his soft warm 
                     body, nuzzling his smooth neck, kissing him gently on the 
                shoulders, trying to relive the precious time I'd shared with him, 
                 wishing that the boy was still awake so that I could tell him how 
                much I loved him. Suddenly I became aware of Kelly standing in the 
                 doorway, watching silently, still totally naked, his little penis 
                            now hanging limp and loose between his legs.
                   I saw that Kelly was about to say something and I pressed my 
                forefinger to my lips to show that he should be quiet, smelling the 
                pungent, though sweet odor that lingered from the juices that still 
                flowed inside the boy's body. Kelly nodded and tiptoed over to the 
                  bed, standing shamelessly naked before me almost flaunting his 
                  beautiful little body. In the last few months Kelly had become 
                  increasingly inhibited about the private parts of his body, no 
                 longer charging around the house stark naked, or coming into the 
                 bathroom or bedroom when I was. Though I still saw the boy naked 
                 several times a week it was without the freedom he'd had earlier. 
                Now he was reversing his recent progression, undoing the influences 
                  of his friends at school and societal standards, his small hand 
                shifted towards his genitals, then placing it in the furrow between 
                his groin and thigh, he cupped his little fingers around and under 
                 his scrotum, massaging himself deliberately as he looked down at 
                 me. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to 
                           do, but then Dylan and I were naked as well. 
                   "Dylan's asleep," I whispered, looking up at my nearly seven-
                  year-old son, amused by the fact that his penis, when limp, was 
                 every bit as big as Dylan's was. I wondered how large Dylan would 
                 be when he grew up. He was slender now, a slim boy that was less 
                 than average height and weight for his age. Kelly was a good ten 
                inches shorter than Dylan and he weighed just on forty-eight pounds 
                                 dressed the way he was right now.
                            Kelly nodded. "But he just woke up, Daddy?"
                   "He's tired, Kelly. Doing what we did takes a lot of energy. 
                             He'll wake up in a bit. What's the time?"
                  "Huh? Oh,... it was,... um,... ten 'oclock a bit ago," he said 
                                              quietly.
                    "What, I didn't think it was that late,... are you sure?" I 
                                               asked.
                   Kelly nodded. I was surprised, I knew I'd been with Dylan for 
                a long time, but an hour? Actually a little over an hour if Kelly's 
                ability to tell the time was good. I looked down at Dylan proudly, 
                             "No wonder he's asleep," I thought aloud.
                                        "Huh?" Kelly asked.
                     "Oh,... nothing.... I was just thinking.... Have you had 
                                      breakfast yet?" I asked.
                   Kelly smiled and shook his head, "I was outside on the deck. 
               It's nice in the sun. There are ducks hanging around and the water's 
                 so clear I think you can see fish.... Can we go fishing Dad?" he 
                                          asked excitedly.
                    I grinned, remembering what I had said to Dylan about Kelly 
                being just a little bit jealous of all the attention the older boy 
                 was receiving. Carefully I pulled away from Dylan, and got to my 
                 feet. I looked down at the sleeping boy. For an instant I thought 
                 Dylan looked innocent, as only children can when they are asleep, 
                but there was a large round stain under his hips, dark against the 
                 white cotton sheets, a clear sign which together with the sweet, 
                 musky smell provided vivid evidence of what had transpired on the 
                bed. Luckily, for once there seemed to be no blood on either of us, 
                   and I lifted the sheet up over him so that his naked body was 
                                              hidden.
                  "Come on Kelly," I whispered, leading the way out of the room. 
                 He glanced down at the older boy and then followed me out of the 
                                               room.
                   In the front 'cabin' I turned and faced my son, we looked at 
                 each other. I admired my son's perfect little body, the wide gap 
                 between his slender brown legs, the minature genitals, the smooth 
                    hairless skin. He smiled shyly, knowingly and he swallowed 
                 nervously as he summoned up his courage, "Daddy,... Are you going 
                      to do that,... to me too,... when I'm older?" he asked.
                   I looked at the boy, noticing that his eyes were fixed on my 
                   groin, on the pale hairless skin around my limp penis, still 
                 glistening with an oily sheen, still slightly wet with the mucus 
                 slime from inside Dylan and the semen that I had deposited there. 
                  Suddenly I wasn't certain of the answer to his question. I felt 
                 sick, not as though I was going to be sick, but unhappily sick, a 
                  kind of dread that I'd started something that could only end in 
                           complete and absolute disaster for all of us.
                     "You want to eat breakfast first or go fishing?" I asked, 
                           breaking the silence that had filled the room.
                    "I already had some,... I got some Cheerios outta the box," 
                he said, still nervous, on the edge of fear. "I guess fishing," he 
                                               added.
                    I picked up the two fishing rods and the cardboard box with 
                 the night crawlers that I'd bought at the marina and guided Kelly 
                outside into the warm sunshine. It was peaceful and beautiful, the 
                 sun sparkling on the water, the early morning mist still visible 
                  amongst the trees where the sun had yet to reach. A few mallard 
                ducks were swimming about forty feet away, the water so clear that 
                 you could see to the bottom, perhaps ten feet down. "So where did 
                                   you see the fish?" I prompted.
                                         "Up front, Daddy."
                      There was no one around and the little bay was totally 
                 private. I walked up to the bow with Kelly, our naked bodies side 
                 by side, then we sat down, dangling our legs over the side. Kelly 
                turned to me and grinned, he was a very happy little boy. I passed 
                my son his fishing rod and watched from the corner of my eye as his 
                 small fingers tried to attach a crawler. He was growing up fast. 
                 He flipped the bail back and dropped his line into the water with 
                a little splash. It sank away into water. I sighed deeply. "What's 
                                    wrong Dad?" he asked gently.
                  I turned to Kelly, "Huh? Oh! Nothing's wrong.... I don't think 
                                 I've ever been this happy before."
                  Kelly looked up at me, "Because of Dylan?.... Because you love 
                                            each other?"
                   "Yes,... that and the fact that I'm here with you." I placed 
                my arm protectively around his bare shoulders and he scooted a bit 
                       closer so that his small leg was pressed against mine.
                   The boy glanced downward, "I like him,... your penis,... like 
                this,... without any hair,... your penis is just like mine,... and 
                            Dylan's too.... It's like we're three boys?"
                  I grinned, letting my own line drop into the water and I hugged 
                                        Kelly closely to me.
                  Kelly was right, there were fish in the water, big ones, about 
               a foot or more in length, you could see them swimming around lazily, 
               coming nearer to the bait, then shearing away as if they had nothing 
                                  better to do than play with us.
                   Kelly and I started to make jokes about them, pretending that 
                 the fish were geniuses, or that they all had college degrees, or 
                that ..... An hour passed without a nibble before we were ready to 
                                give up, get up, and get breakfast.
                    I heard Dylan come out of the cabin even as he called out, 
                               "Hi! So you guys catch anything yet."
                    Kelly and I both turned around and smiled at the naked boy, 
                         "You finally decided to get out of bed?" I teased.
                   Dylan grinned and stepped closer, "So where are all the fish?"
                     Kelly giggled, "They're too smart for Daddy. I think they 
                             don't like eating crawlers for breakfast."
                   Dylan grinned and came up next to me, his hand dropping down 
                   onto my shoulder, rubbing gently. It was more than a friendly 
                 gesture, it was full of love and happiness, and fond memories of 
                what we had shared only an hour earlier. "I'm starved," he said. I 
                  reached around, sliding my hand up his bare leg, past his knee, 
                  then following the inside of his thigh until my fingers brushed 
                   against his delicate little scrotum. In the heat, without the 
                demands of passion, it had loosened up, the tiny pink folds as soft 
                as the purest silk, a tracery of veins under the almost translucent 
                                  skin. "You feel okay?" I asked.
                      Dylan nodded, "Yeah! I guess,... it feels kinda sloppy 
                inside,... like it's all wet and loose back there... But it doesn't 
                                    hurt or anything like that."
                  "It is wet and loose back there,... we did it for over an hour, 
                  Dylan. I'm surprised you can still stand up, let alone walk." I 
                                              teased.
                   The boy smirked, "Yeah! Well I probably couldn't swim or dive 
                 or anything like that. Have you guys had breakfast yet?" he asked 
                                             hopefully.
                    I got up, pulling my son to his feet, "Come on Kelly, let's 
                get breakfast, it sounds like Dylan is getting hungry. We can leave 
                  the rods here, maybe something stupid will come swimming along."
                   The boys laughed and I led the way back into the cabin.  I'd 
                  brought eggs and bacon for our first breakfast on the boat. The 
                  boys and I needed the energy boost of a fried breakfast. It was 
                 impossible not to notice Dylan's naked body and remember, to feel 
                 an overpowering urge to take him back into the bedroom and repeat 
                 the experience, again and again. He was beautiful, not even close 
                 to the onset of puberty, still a boy with a young boy's body, but 
                 one that was fit and healthy, and perfect in every way. Again and 
                again my eyes came back to admire the lean slender torso, the lithe 
                  brown limbs, the little boy genitals, bouncing, bobbing, always 
                                       arousing my interest.
                    I had almost finished cooking the eggs when Kelly began to 
                 giggle. He pointed at Dylan, at a dribble of yellowish fluid that 
                 had run from the boy's crack and half way down the inside of his 
                  right thigh. "You're dripping," I laughed, "I guess you must be 
                                pretty juicy back there," I teased.
                    Dylan was hungry and in no mood to be teased, "Well you put 
                                      it there," he retorted.
                  I put the spatula down and pulled the naked boy to me, placing 
                my leg between his legs and hugging him, smearing the wetness over 
                 us as I tickled the squirming body in the places where I knew he 
                 was most sensitive. Dylan started to giggle then he began to hug 
                me back, pressing his little cock into my leg as his mouth came up 
                to meet mine. "Gee you guys, come on I'm hungry," Kelly complained.
                   I laughed as I pulled off a paper towel from the side of the 
                stove, turned Dylan around, knelt down and carefully wiped out his 
                 crack. The boy was still dilated. I knew that his opening was not 
                as large as it had been earlier, but it wasn't far from it, perhaps 
                 a half inch in diameter still, the muscle of the boy's anus still 
                stretched so that I could see the crimson-red of the inside of his 
                rectum. There was no sign of the pucker that a boy should have, his 
                  anus opened inwards and the narrow rim was darker than I'd ever 
                seen it. I leaned forward and kissed his pale soft cheeks on either 
                side and then straightened back up. "You're pretty big back there," 
                                              I said.
                   "What do you expect after fucking me for over an hour?" Dylan 
                      grinned as he went over to the table to get the plates.
                   I looked at the two naked boys and knew this was going to be 
                                     an 'awesome' three weeks.
                                             Chapter 10
                    We carried our plates out into the sunshine and sat at the 
                  small table in the stern sun-deck. It was a wonderful meal in a 
                 beautiful setting, but more than anything else I enjoyed watching 
                              the two boys devour their food hungrily.
                    The sun streamed onto their naked bodies as they stretched 
                  out in the chairs, legs shamelessly stretched wide apart, small 
                genitals exposed to the fresh air and sun. For a boy who spends the 
                  vast majority of his life clothed, the sense of liberation that 
               comes with being naked and free is exhilarating. The boys giggled and 
                 teased me continually. None of us had even eaten breakfast in the 
                  nude before and it was a lot of fun, harmless fun, without any 
                sexual overtones except for the occasional giggle about my hairless 
                                               dick!
                   After breakfast, and a late breakfast at that, the boys and I 
                went back to fishing. This time, they promised, they were going to 
               'show me how to do it'. Dylan had never been fishing before. I guess 
                 that fishing is just one more thing, of a great many things, that 
                 most mothers don't get into with their sons. No wonder Dylan was 
                  anxious to have a man's company, he needed my attention in more 
                      ways than the one we'd already experienced that morning.
                    I handed my fishing rod to Dylan, pulled up a deck chair and 
                 settled back in the sun. It was amusing to watch Dylan and Kelly 
                 together as they sat side by side, like two brothers, fishing off 
                  the bow, their slender brown legs dangling over the side. Since 
                 he'd woken up, Dylan had quietened down considerably. I wondered 
                 whether the memory of what I had done to him was still strong in 
                   his mind but the more I thought about it the more that I was 
                  convinced that there was a deeper problem. I waited, sooner or 
                                     later Dylan would open up.
                   Dylan was noticeably quieter than usual, not sulky, just much 
                 quieter, almost as if he was still exhausted, though I knew that 
                he'd pretty much gotten his strength back while he'd slept and from 
                a hearty breakfast. For Dylan had eaten like a horse, and a hungry 
                 horse at that. I smiled as I looked at his lean body, tiny brown 
                 ripples of skin at his belly. He was slim, his waist and hips so 
               narrow that you had to wonder where he put all the food. He finished 
               off his share of the eggs and bacon in nothing flat and then started 
                on my breakfast. But then, that is one of the delights of boys like 
                                               Dylan.
                   I let him eat most of the bacon, I didn't need the saturated 
                fat; and one of my eggs, I didn't need the cholesterol either. But 
                I drew the line at my toast and coffee and one solitary egg. After 
                              all I needed to keep my strength up too.
                   The sun rose higher in the sky and it began to get quite hot. 
               After about half an hour I could feel the sun burning into the pale, 
                                    untanned skin of my thighs.
                    The last thing I wanted was one of the boys, but especially 
                not Dylan, to get sunburned down there. Dylan has the kind of skin 
                that tans quickly and darkly. For that matter so does Kelly, though 
                 his skin is fairer and more delicate, and more likely to burn if 
                  he gets too much sun at one time. I got up and went back to the 
                  cabin, found the large squeeze-bottle of suntan lotion and went 
                                           back outside. 
                     The boys looked up and smiled as I came up. "Who's going 
                  first?" I asked. I grinned at Dylan, "The last thing we want is 
                                   Dylan junior getting sunburn."
                  Dylan grinned back at me cheekily, "Or Dylan's butt either,... 
                                   'specially not Dylan's butt."
                   I laughed, "You're not wrong about that Dylan. I do want you 
                 to have a nice tan,... all over though," I said. Dylan smiled and 
                 I reached down and took his hand and lifted him up easily. It was 
                nearly midday and as I touched his bare skin I could feel the sun's 
                heat burning into him. I stood in front of the beautiful young boy, 
                knowing without even looking down that my penis was stiffening from 
                  just being so close to him. I didn't know whether Dylan was the 
                 same way but I did know that it wouldn't take him very long. The 
                  boy looked up into my eyes and I tried to see into his head, to 
                 read his mind, to discover what was bothering him so much. Guilt, 
                 shame, fear at being gay? I wanted to help him, I wanted to show 
                 him how much I loved him, I wanted to take care of him for ever. 
                 As the boy looked back I could sense the love he had for me, more 
                 than just the lust and the passion we'd shared on the bed, but a 
                 deep affection that seemed to grow stronger every minute we were 
                                             together.
                       I squeezed a large thick line of white cream over his 
                 shoulders and chest and began to massage it in thoroughly. Dylan 
                 didn't mind this one little bit, unlike Kelly who usually puts up 
                something of a fight. Dylan just stood there with a happy smile on 
                   his face, enjoying the firm movement of my hands on his body, 
                meeting my eyes every few seconds, breathing steadily. I worked my 
                 way around his back making sure that all of the exposed flesh was 
                  well protected. Then I began on his buttocks, covering the pale 
                            smooth skin of his small cheeks thoroughly.
                    I even made sure that there was some inside his deep crack, 
                though it was unlikely that the sunlight would ever see it. It was 
                a good opportunity to make sure that his anus was still on the way 
                 to recovery. I knelt down, parted his cheeks gently and examined 
                                             the boy. 
                     The boy's anus was still contracting, getting smaller and 
                 tighter, though still dilated. I wondered whether I had stretched 
                  him too far, but other than the residual slackness at his small 
                    orifice there seemed to be no other damage. There was some 
                  yellowish slime that had oozed out of the opening and formed a 
                   little foamy spot where his anus was. It smelled exactly like 
                 rising dough, the yeasty smell that Kelly had identified earlier 
                 that morning. It was a sweet smell, a nice smell, a smell that I 
                had brought forth from deep inside the young boy's body. I inhaled 
                                    deeply, absorbing the odor.
                   Then with my tongue extended as far out as possible I licked 
               the boy, from the back of his silky-soft ball-sac, all the way along 
                 the length of his crack, and up to his backbone. Then back again, 
                    pausing for a brief second at his still loose hole. It was 
                remarkable that after two hours the boy's opening was still dilated 
                 enough for my tongue to slip inside easily. The taste of Dylan's 
                body was overpowering, the taste of salt and a not unpleasant sweet 
                 taste. As I licked and sucked I couldn't help but wonder if Dylan 
                 was enjoying it as much as I did. Then as the thought entered my 
                mind Dylan let out a sigh of pleasure and my tongue surged into him 
                 as far as I could reach. The boy responded immediately, pressing 
               back against me so that my face was squashed against his warm smooth 
                 cheeks. His bottom was slippery from the lotion and the smell was 
                very different suddenly. Still I inhaled deeply, he was wet and hot 
                            and like me, quickly becoming aroused again.
                     Kelly interrupted us, hearing Dylan's sigh, followed by a 
                 little whimper of unbridled delight. He turned around and looked 
                 up. "What are you guys do...Yuck,... that's gross," the boy said, 
                   the note of disgust clearly present. I held back a laugh and 
                 continue to probe Dylan's anus with my tongue. I adored Dylan and 
                  I loved the taste of his beautiful young body. I basked in his 
                flesh, overcome by the intimacy of our contact, wanting only to go 
                 on sucking and licking. "Yuck!" Kelly said again, "That's dirty. 
                That's where Dylan poops from." I didn't think that Kelly could see 
                  what I was doing to Dylan, all he could see was my face pressed 
                               tightly into the older boy's buttocks.
                    Dylan saved me the trouble of answering, "It's not, Kelly. 
                       It's not.... It feels so awesome," Dylan sighed out. 
                   My tongue probed back into the boy as far as possible, then I 
                pulled away, gave the boy's crack one long wet lick, kissed him on 
               either cheek and turned him around. In the few all too-brief moments 
                 that I had spent, Dylan had become erect again, his little penis 
                 sticking straight up pointing towards his navel, though falling a 
                long way short of the little fold of brown flesh that was stretched 
                 across the top, half covering the small indentation in his belly. 
                 His penis reached somewhere about half-way I guessed, but he was 
                                       only twelve years old.
                   "You can see how much Dylan likes it, Kelly", I said, wiping 
                 the saliva from my lips with the back of my hand, then playfully 
                  tweaking the small hard penis. "Yeah, I guess it is dirty in a 
                way,... but you know it's a very special part of his body too. It's 
                    where Dylan and I make love. It's not as if he wasn't clean 
                 there,... but you're right,... we do need to be careful. There's 
                                no point in any of us getting sick."
                    Kelly looked at me obviously confused, wondering why I was 
                  worried about getting sick, thinking it was probably because of 
                  'germs'. I wasn't sure that Kelly needed to know about sex and 
                    hygiene but it was certainly time that Dylan had some basic 
                      instruction. And Dylan gave me the perfect introduction.
                   "That guy yesterday,... the one in the store where we bought 
                the clothes,..." Dylan said hesitantly. I nodded as I continued to 
                  apply the lotion to his thighs, getting very close to, but not 
                  touching his rigid little cock. "....well he's gay too,... like 
                                    us,... isn't he?" he asked.
                    "Yes. Yes, Dylan,... I imagine he is,... but not quite like 
                                           us." I replied
                         Dylan nodded, "How is he different?" he persisted.
                                    I shrugged, "How he acted."
                   "Oh!" Dylan said, "Yeah I guess he did act kind of weird." He 
                grinned, "It was like he wanted us to know that he was gay. He was 
                                  kind of showing off wasn't he."
                        "Huh Huh! But it was a bit more than that," I said.
                     "Because he was acting like a sissy the way he spoke and 
                    stuff?" Dylan asked uncertainly. I nodded and smiled at the 
                observant twelve-year-old. Not much escaped Dylan's eyes, and with 
                his intelligence, he'd figure out most of the world around him fast 
                   enough. "But,... well why?" Dylan asked still uncertain, then 
                added, "I don't want to be like that when I'm older. I know I'm gay 
                        now but, well I want to be like you when I grow up."
                   I smiled and playfully flipped at the boy's penis, pulling it 
                downward towards the deck. He flinched as his penis bobbed back and 
                   smacked against his belly with a loud slap. "You won't kiddo. 
                      There's no way I'm going to let you grow up like that."
                  "Well why does he have to act like that if he's gay? You don't! 
                                 I felt really strange around him."
                         "What made you think he was gay, Dylan?" I asked.
                   The boy thought for a moment. "I dunno,... I guess,... well I 
                 s'pose it was how he kept looking at me. It made me feel,... well 
                 uncomfortable,... like he was looking at my body and I was naked. 
                I like it when you look at me,... you know what I mean,... but not 
                               him though. I didn't like him at all."
                   I smiled, "I'm glad Dylan. I really don't think I could live 
                                   without you," I thought aloud.
                                       "Huh?" the boy asked.
                   "What's the problem Dylan?" I asked gently. "You know sooner 
                  or later you have to trust me. You're happy aren't you? What's 
                                          bothering you?"
                   The boy looked away and shrugged, "Yeah, Alex I'm happy, I've 
                         never been this happy in my whole life. I'm okay."
                    "Dylan,... trust me, please," I said reassuringly, stroking 
                the boy's lithe, muscled legs, marvelling at the smoothness of his 
                            skin, not even a trace of the faintest down.
                     "I,... I don't,... It's okay, really it is," the boy said 
                                             absently.
                                      "Dylan," I said quietly.
                    The boy looked back at me, breathed out with a sigh, "It's 
                 nothing." He hesitated then murmured, "I love you.... Alex I want 
                to be with you always,... I want to live with you and Kelly,... and 
                                do what we did this morning in bed."
                   I smiled gently, "What about you mom, Dylan? She'd miss you. 
                              She loves you too, doesn't she?" I said.
                    "Yeah. Yeah I know that,... but well it's different,... you 
                                            know that."
                    I nodded. "It is different, you know it and I know it, but 
                most people in the world would never understand. They'd think it's 
                               terribly wrong, what we do together."
                   I looked up following the boy's body. His penis had softened 
                again. For some reason that worried me and my eyes continued up. I 
                 found the boy looking down at me, tears forming in his beautiful 
                  pale-blue eyes. He sniffed and pressed his lips together, then 
                                             swallowed.
                               "What's wrong Dylan?" I asked gently. 
                   "Oh! I was just thinking about you,... and Kelly too for that 
                      matter. I love you, I really do. I,... I want people to 
                           understand,... I don't want them to hate us."
                    I squeezed some of the lotion out into my hand and began to 
               massage it in to the few square inches of Dylan's body that remained 
                free of lotion. It was the most important part of the boy, the part 
                       that made him special, the part that made me love him.
                   "You know Dylan, both you and Kelly are beautiful boys. There 
                 are a few men out there who would do anything to be here now with 
                 you, men that would be kind and gentle,... I think some men would 
                 love you every bit as much as I do. But you know there are a lot 
                 of other men who wouldn't love you, they'd take advantage of the 
                  fact that you're still young, they could hurt you a great deal. 
                You're both so young, it,... well it wouldn't be too difficult for 
                                a man like that to ruin everything."
                              "What do you mean, Daddy?" Kelly asked.
                    "Well some men love boys, they love them so much that they 
                    would never hurt them. They want the boy to be happy above 
                 everything else. They will have sex with the boy, but it's a part 
                of their love. Like with Dylan and me. What I do with Dylan is the 
                               way I show Dylan how much I love him."
                   Dylan grinned, lovingly placing his hand over mine, pressing 
                it tightly into his groin, squeezing my fingers back into the soft 
                little pouch under his penis. "Kelly I love your dad too,... I want 
             him to do that stuff with him more than anything else in the whole world. 
                        That's what being gay means!" he said smiling at me.
                    "Dylan's absolutely right," I added. I took a deep breath, 
                 "But not every man is like me. A lot don't care about loving you. 
                   All they want is sex, and well, when you're young and as good-
                     looking as you two boys,... well they want it even more."
                    "How can they hurt us? I mean,... well Dylan said that you 
                          hurt him a bit the first time,..." Kelly asked.
                  "It still hurts when I first put it inside him. It does doesn't 
                                        it, Dylan?" I said.
                  The older boy nodded slightly, "Yeah, it hurts,... but I don't 
                 mind,... it stops pretty quickly once your dick is in a fair way. 
                Like this morning, it just hurt for the first couple of minutes,... 
                                        then it felt nice."
                  "That's only a part of the hurt, Kelly." I looked at Dylan and 
                 smiled, feeling ashamed and sad that I hurt him, that he kept it 
                    'bottled' up inside him. I wanted to feel his pain, to make 
                 everything good and happy and nice for him. "Having sex,... with 
                  some people,... is bad for you," I said slowly. "Having sex,... 
                 with some men,... well it isn't like Dylan and me,... it, well it 
                                could even kill you," I said slowly.
                                   "How?" Dylan asked nervously.
                   "Well,... I guess if the man's penis is too big, or he isn't 
                 as gentle as he should be when he puts it inside the boy,... it's 
                very likely that he'll be hurt pretty badly, the boy's insides will 
               be damaged or torn up. Dylan bled quite a bit the first two times and 
                 I was very careful." I said. "Then there's Aids,... you know what 
                                             that is?"
                  Kelly looked uncertain but Dylan nodded, "Yeah! It's a disease 
                                           or something."
                   "Yes, Dylan it is. It's a terrible disease, there's no cure, 
                 almost everyone who has caught it dies. It's a disease that gays 
                                               get."
                               "Is it caused by germs?" Kelly asked.
                   I nodded. "The germ gets into your blood and starts reducing 
                  the ability of your body to resist other germs, that's what the 
                word 'Aids' stands for Kelly, Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. 
                  It means that your body's immune system breaks down, so you get 
                  sick,... Normally when you get sick you body makes things that 
                 fight the germs so you get better,... or immune. But with Aids it 
                      doesn't,... so eventually you get so sick that you die."
                       "But well how does the germ get inside?" Dylan asked.
                            "Is it something like a cold?" Kelly asked.
                   I shook my head, "No it's not like a cold, Kelly. Mostly the 
                 germ gets directly into your blood but you can get it other ways 
                 too. If the other person had Aids it's very likely you'll get it 
                too. He might not even know he's got it... then again he might,... 
               but he doesn't care about you enough to worry. The germs are already 
                in his blood, or in his semen,... that's his sperm,... even in his 
                saliva. When he puts his penis inside you, in your bottom, or even 
                               in your mouth, the germs go into you."
                                      "Yuck!" Kelly exclaimed.
                     "It's worse for a boy like Dylan,... because his body is 
                 fairly small inside,... well it's very likely he's going to bleed 
                  when the man's penis is inside his bottom,... then the germs go 
                  straight into his blood. If the man's penis is inside his mouth 
                it's still very dangerous,... but at least there's a chance the boy 
                 won't get it. here," I said, gently squeezing Dylan's small 
                            firm cheeks, "...well it's almost certain."
                   "But you don't have it? Aids that is?" Dylan asked nervously. 
                I looked at the boy gently. He thought for a moment and then smiled 
                knowingly, "'cause we wouldn't do that stuff if you did, right? You 
                                     wouldn't want to hurt me?"
                   I nodded. "Your mom knows about this Dylan. She'd much rather 
                you were having sex with a boy about your own age. I think I would 
                too, even though I know it would mean that I wouldn't be here with 
                  you now. It's probably better that you find out about your body 
                 like that....with someone your own age. Dylan,... the problem is, 
                   well,... not every boy is the same,... most boys, if they're 
               interested, have sex together... A few boys are different. They come 
                to grown men to find out... You know a boy may not even be gay,... 
                 but it's part of growing up,... of finding out about themselves."
                    Dylan looked at me uncertainly, "Like Gary, my friend from 
                 school, I don't think he's gay,... he just wanted to have fun,... 
                when I wanted to do more stuff,... well, he didn't. I,..." The boy 
               swallowed awkwardly, "I started pretending I was with a man, looking 
                at pictures in books or magazines,... I even cut a few out and hid 
                them in my room,... pictures of guys in their underpants and stuff 
                 like that. I guess I'm one of those boys huh?... Is that bad?" he 
                                     asked after a long pause.
                    I shrugged. "Dylan a lot of people wouldn't understand that 
                   you could feel that way. They don't realize that you could be 
                interested in me in the same way that I'm attracted to you. They'd 
                say you were too young to know what you wanted or what was good for 
                you,... they think I am doing a bad thing, taking advantage of you 
                because you're so young. They'd say that I forced you to have sex."
                    "But I'm not so young, I'm twelve. I love you, I,... well I 
                  only do what I want to with you,... you don't force me," Dylan 
                 retorted angrily. "Why can't they understand? Why can't they mind 
                              their own business and leave us alone?"
                    I nodded in agreement, "A few might understand how we feel 
                about each other, but not many. Mostly I think they're scared. They 
                 don't understand because they don't have the same feelings. They 
                    become frightened, I guess because they think of their own 
                children, that somehow I'd lead them astray, that my sole interest 
                 is enjoying their bodies. Dylan, you know I love you. I love you 
                because of what and who you are, but also because you love me back. 
                  I'm not interested in taking advantage of some little boy. But 
                there are a lot of men in the world who are interested in that kind 
                                             of thing."
                     Dylan nodded understandingly, "Like the guy in the store? 
                Yuck! I would never do that stuff with him. He's,... well he's kind 
                                            of slimey."
                  I laughed, "Well, that's one word for it, I guess. Mostly he's 
                 just different. He needs understanding too. He's probably a nice 
                      person deep down, it's just that he thinks differently."
                             "Yeah I guess," Dylan said unconvincingly.
                    I grinned, "You don't have to like him,... and I certainly 
                don't want you having sex with him,... but,... well you don't have 
                          to hate him. All he did was look at you, Dylan."
                    "Yeah! I know that,... I don't think I hate him,... I just 
                  don't,... well like him, and I don't want to grow up to be like 
                                   him, that's all," Dylan said.
                    I laughed, "Don't worry kiddo, you won't. I always want you 
                to be able to talk to me Dylan, more than anything I want us to be 
               friends. Even if we stop having sex, I'll still love you, I'll still 
                                     want you to be my friend."
                   Dylan looked up, I could see the shock, the fear, the terror 
                that my words brought, "But,... well I,... we,... always will won't 
                 we. I like doing stuff with you," he said, suddenly on the verge 
                 of crying, "I love you, Alex,... I don't wanna stop,... never,... 
                      ever! I won't ever do this with anyone else! I promise."
                     Lovingly I fondled the boy's golden-blond hair, it was so 
                 soft, like silk, glistening in the midday sun. "I hope you don't 
                Dylan because it would tear my heart out. But as you get older,... 
                   well we don't know what will happen then,... Later on, maybe 
                   tonight I'll show you and Kelly a way to avoid getting Aids."
                    "But I won't,... Not if I'm always with you and neither of 
                us,... well,... you know," Dylan said sadly. "I guess I don't want 
                         you doing this stuff with another boy except me."
                   I wasn't sure how to answer that. Sooner or later Dylan would 
                  grow up. I didn't know if I would lose interest when he was no 
                longer a boy. I hoped not. I shook my head and lovingly pulled the 
                  naked boy into my arms and against my chest. We hugged as Kelly 
                looked up at us and smiled. "I'm glad you guys love each other and 
                         all that, but I wanna fish some more," he giggled.
                    I pulled away, holding Dylan's shoulders, tenderly stroking 
                his thin brown neck with my thumbs. I knew that in some ways I was 
                taking advantage of the boy, but someone would sooner or later and 
                 I was glad it was me. I grinned down at my son, "Good idea Kelly. 
                     Let's put some lotion on you before you get burned okay."
                  I turned back to Dylan, our eyes met and I could feel the love 
                  we both felt surging between us. "I bet Dylan catches the first 
                                           fish," I said.
                             "Why? Why not me?" Kelly asked jealously.
                  I laughed and pointed at Dylan's fishing rod. The tip was bent 
               over in an arc, jerking with sudden force, "Holy shit!" Dylan shouted 
                   as he jumped away, and grabbed his fishing rod. I smiled as I 
                 watched the two boys, both naked, their small firm buttocks still 
                 pale, their slender brown bodies excited, their squeals of joy as 
                Dylan wrestled his first fish aboard, Kelly shouting encouragement 
               and instructions. It was a nice sized bass and a nice surprise since 
                                  it was in the middle of the day.
                   As soon as the boys quietened down, which took quite a while 
                because catching one's first fish tends to leave a boy in something 
                of a 'high', I made Kelly stand up and try to remain still while I 
                  applied suntan lotion to him. Getting Kelly to be still for any 
                length of time is nearly impossible. Full of life, his energy kind 
                   of spills out, and he wriggles and twists and does just about 
                 anything to get free. Finally I had enough of him covered that I 
                       was certain that any sunburn wouldn't be too painful.
                     The boys fished for another two hours and caught two more 
                fish, and even though both were attributed to Kelly, I think Dylan 
                 shared in the glory. By then it was more that hot enough to swim 
                  and when the boys put their rods down and suggested going for a 
               swim I was happy to go along. It had been more that four hours since 
                I'd finally pulled free of Dylan's body and he'd been so exhausted 
                that he had not moved. Now I watched the boy clambering up onto the 
                  rail, balancing for a brief second by leaning his buttocks back 
                against me, then executing a perfect dive into the water from about 
                five feet up. It was as if nothing had happened, he was healthy and 
                happy and just like any 'normal' twelve-year-old boy. He arced into 
                water with barely a splash, and from above I watched his beautiful 
                 naked body moving in breast-stroke under the surface. He emerged, 
                   shaking his head, laughing, calling for us to join him. Kelly 
                 jumped in with a big 'cannonball' splash and I dived in from the 
                side of the boat. Needless to say a water fight started as soon as 
                I came to the surface, Kelly and Dylan ganged up on me and although 
                   I could have won I took the coward's way out and beat a hasty 
                  retreat to the shore amid hysterical giggles from the two boys. 
                 They followed me up on the shore and we spent the next hour or so 
                 exploring. Following the two naked boys around as they discovered 
                  the world around them, made up names for the different places, 
                 pretended they were shipwrecked, and then wild indians, and then 
                 pirates, was as much fun as I have ever had. The boys still lived 
                in a precious world, a world of dreams and fantasies, a world that 
                     I was still a part of because of my association with them.
                  It was close to four o'clock when I finally convinced the boys 
                  it was time to go back to the boat. Neither boy was willing to 
                  leave, the shore had become our special island, something that 
               we would always treasure, but it was getting late and I still needed 
                to motor back to the marina and pick up a few essentials. So after 
                 I promised that we would come back later that afternoon, the boys 
                 and I swam back to the boat, stood on the stern sun-deck and ate 
                  big slices of red watermelon, spitting seeds into the water and 
                  dripping on the deck. Then it was into the cabin and dressing, 
                 finally covering our bodies for the first time that day. I pulled 
                 up the anchor, with help from Dylan and Kelly, carefully steered 
                 out of the little bay and headed for the marina. As we came into 
               clear water I handed the helm over to Dylan. He grinned like a tiger 
                  and didn't do a half-bad job either, then shared it with Kelly, 
                which sent us careening over the water in something of a sine curve.
                   After we tied the boat at the dock we went up to the car and 
                 drove the half-mile or so into town. At the supermarket I spotted 
                 a telephone and led the boys over to it. It took a minute to call 
                 Dylan's mom using my credit card. It was after five o'clock and I 
                   was hopeful that she was home. She picked up the phone almost 
                  immediately and I handed the receiver to Dylan and nodded as I 
                 playfully squeezed his shoulder. I heard Dylan say "hi mom" as I 
                      turned and pulled Kelly after me into the supermarket. 
                                    Chapter 11. Moral Bankruptcy
                     Dylan finally caught up to us in the dairy section of the 
                 supermarket as I was trying to choose between skim milk (good for 
               me) and whole milk with vitamin D (good for the boys). It was nearly 
                 twenty minutes after Kelly and I had gone into the store. Most of 
                   that time Dylan had been on the telephone with his mother. He 
                 grinned as he came up. "Hi guys,... Mom said to say thanks,... I 
                 guess for letting me call on your credit card and all... I think 
                               it made her pretty happy," Dylan said.
                    I smiled back at the boy. "No problem. I think she needs to 
                  know that everything is okay and you're having a good time. You 
                                    are, aren't you," I teased.
                    Dylan gave me a cheeky grin and nodded and then looked into 
                the shopping cart, already half-filled. He saw the breakfast cereal 
                I had picked out, "Special K" and you could see his distaste as his 
                 little nose wrinkled playfully, "Yuck, this stuff is truly gross 
                                               man."
                  I grinned, giving in without a fight. "Okay Dyl, you and Kelly 
                  go pick up something that you both like,... just go easy on the 
                                            sugar okay."
                    He grinned and headed off with Kelly. I put the whole milk 
                with vitamin D into the cart. At least they'd get a few things that 
                 were good for them. The boys came back with breakfast cereal. It 
                 was a box of sugar coated cereal, "Fruit Loops" or something like 
                 that. "Yuck," I teased. "You guys really aren't going to eat that 
                 stuff are you?" Kelly and Dylan grinned and they nodded together. 
                "Okay, well I guess you guys are old enough to make some decisions 
                                          for yourselves.
                   They both smiled, and took off again. They reappeared about a 
                 minute later with a packet of cheese-filled hot-dogs, dropped it 
                in the shopping cart, giggled and took off again. The two boys fed 
                 on each other, each boy providing inspiration and a challenge to 
                the other. For the next ten minutes they ran back and forth through 
                the store, sometimes returning the things I had already picked up, 
                though I expected that they usually just dumped the stuff somewhere 
                where it didn't belong, always bringing back new acquisitions that 
                 were more to the liking of pre-teen boys. I couple of times I had 
                 to ask them to quieten down before they scared some poor old lady 
                 half to death as they hurtled down the aisles. But it was all in 
                 fun, mostly they were more interested in having a good time than 
                in actually buying anything. I said no to a few of the things that 
                the boys brought back but they got away with murder. Still, it was 
                               a holiday for them as much as for me.
                    I was fairly certain that we'd bought just about everything 
                in the store and I started towards the check-out. I was just about 
                  to go through the check-out, although Kelly was dragging along 
                behind looking at something or other, when Dylan came up beside me 
                          as said quietly, "I want to ask you something?"
                                 "Kind of personal huh?" I teased.
                   He grinned, "Yeah, kinda." He stretched up and I bent forward 
                slightly and he whispered, "That KY stuff, or whatever it was that 
                    you told me about,... you know for making me slippery back 
                 there,..." I nodded, "Well,... do you think they'd have something 
                                          like that here?"
                    I shrugged uncertainly, "Maybe. It's probably over in that 
                  section if they do," I said, pointing vaguely towards the other 
                side of the store where we had seen the array of drug-store-related 
                  things. "Why?" I teased, "You got something in mind?" I stopped 
                 pushing the cart forward and pulled back into the aisle we'd just 
                                             come from.
                  Dylan gave me a cheeky grin, "Yeah!" he whispered, then looked 
                around before he added in a conspiratorial whisper, "The same thing 
                                        you've got in mind."
                   I grinned at the young boy, "You really want the KY? It was a 
                  lot of fun just with the Crisco wasn't it? And we already know 
                                       Vaseline works okay."
                     Dylan smirked at me, blushing slightly as he remembered. 
                  "Yeah! The other stuff is okay, at least the Vaseline is, but I 
                         don't wanna use the oil again for a while, okay?"
                   I remembered the wonderful lubricity I had experienced inside 
                the boy's taut young body only hours ago. It had been overwhelming 
                as my penis had slid back and forth inside the oil-slicked tube of 
                the boy's rectum, the excess oil spilling out until my entire groin 
                  and most of Dylan seemed to be covered in a glistening slippery 
                  film. "Why not Dylan? It didn't hurt did it?" I asked nervously.
                    Dylan shook his golden-blond head and said hesitantly, "It 
                 didn't hurt at the time,... it was really nice,... better than at 
                 the farm even.... But when I woke up I,... well I didn't like it 
                                         that much, okay?"
                   "But why?" I asked, "It looked fine back there at breakfast. 
                Your hole was pretty big of course and it looked like it was a bit 
                swollen and bruised... I think,... well considering what we did,... 
                      well,... it probably ought to be a bit sore after that."
                    Dylan swallowed nervously, thought for a second, then said 
                 slowly, "It isn't sore,... well a bit okay... If you really must 
                 know,... when I woke up I felt awful,... like in my belly,... you 
                 know when you have to go to the bathroom. I just made it in time. 
                 I never pooped like that before. It wasn't like diarrhea, it kind 
               of exploded out in big lumps at first,... then it got really watery. 
                It was gross,... and real smelly too. I pooped a whole lot,... and 
                even after it stopped coming out I kept on getting cramps like you 
                                        get with diarrhea."
                    I looked at Dylan, "Jesus, Dylan, I'm sorry. Why didn't you 
                say something you poor bugger?" I turned the cart around and headed 
                 back down the aisle towards Kelly, still wandering along looking 
                                     at just about everything.
                   "I thought I was going die,... it felt so bad. I felt better  
                 as soon as I'd finished,... like I was all emptied out inside. I 
                  thought about telling you but,... well I guess I didn't want to 
                 worry you and make you think I was sick or something like that." 
                  The boy smiled shyly, slightly embarrassed, "Later on I kind of 
                 figured out that it probably was the oil,... because nothing like 
                  that happened before when we used the other stuff. At first,... 
                 well I thought it was,... well because we did it for such a long 
                while,... a whole hour,... and maybe something got hurt inside me."
                  I nodded, steering the cart with one hand, my other arm around 
                 Dylan's shoulders as he walked beside me. "I guess it acted like 
                  an enema,... it made your poop loosen up. Well,... next time we 
                           know better,... no more oil from now on okay?"
                   Dylan looked up at me awkwardly, "I don't want to never do it 
                  again like that but,... only,... well maybe we shouldn't use so 
                                      much of it next time." 
                  "Well anyway Dylan," I smiled, "I think you're right about the 
                 KY. It's probably a lot better for you. Let's see if we can find 
                                               some."
                    Dylan walked beside me and Kelly dragged along in the rear. 
                Lubricants were exactly where you'd expect to find them. Below the 
                condoms and just above the ovulation and pregnancy tests. At least 
                   that's where you'd find them in most of the U.S., but in the 
                  backwoods of Kentucky, where selling booze is illegal, I didn't 
                 know what to expect. The funny thing was that I was embarrassed. 
                 Here I was shopping with an incredibly beautiful twelve-year-old 
                 boy and I was buying KY. I stopped the cart a few feet further up 
                 the aisle, past the KY, looked behind us to make sure that no one 
                was watching, then I backtracked and picked up two tubes of KY, the 
                6 oz. kind in the cardboard box. I even pointed the condoms out to 
                           Dylan remembering our earlier talk about sex. 
                   I don't know about boys today. When I was twelve I had a good 
                 idea what condoms were for but Dylan was completely uninterested. 
                 I guess all he wanted was the KY but the idea of 'doing it' with 
                him and having a piece of rubber stretched over my cock wasn't that 
               appealing to me either. As Kelly caught up we headed back up towards 
                the check-out. Picking the right check-out was a bit of a problem. 
                 Only three were open. One was 'manned' by someone who looked like 
                the assistant store manager, the other by a girl in her late teens, 
                  and the other by an a black woman, somewhere between thirty and 
                                     forty, if I had to guess.
                  The manager type was a definite no-no. He probably stocked the 
                 shelves. The girl was a good bet, she'd probably never had a use 
                 for a lubricant other than what she produced herself. The problem 
                was that she might know what KY was used for. By myself, I wouldn't 
                  have batted an eye, and walked right on through, but with Dylan 
                  right next to me, Kelly too for that matter, it seemed terribly 
                       obvious that I needed it for one, or both of the boys.
                   The black woman, would she know or wouldn't she? That was the 
                question. For a moment I considered sending Dylan and Kelly outside 
               until I was though the checkout. But hell, for all she knew I needed 
                it for my wife, or girlfriend, or.... I went into her check-out and 
                Dylan helped get the things out of the cart. Kelly looked over the 
                display of candy but knew better than to ask. I made sure that the 
                 KY was buried somewhere in the middle of our groceries, hoping it 
                would go through the scanner unnoticed. Incredibly, everything went 
                 smoothly, she rang the total, I paid and we pushed the cart, now 
                full of paper bags, out to the car. I breathed a sigh of relief as 
                                  soon as we were safely outside.
                    By the time we had finished shopping the sky had started to 
                 cloud up, suddenly getting much darker in the west, a clear sign 
                that a thunder storm was brewing. I drove back to the boat as fast 
                 as I could, assigned bags for the boys to carry and hurried down 
               to the marina. I couldn't tell how long before the storm would break 
                 but it was obviously headed in our direction. Once everything was 
                  aboard I gave serious thought to staying at the marina for the 
                night. It would curtail our activities for the evening but it would 
                   be a lot easier than facing a storm out on the lake. The boys 
                                          decided for me.
                     "You want me to untie the rope at the front," Dylan asked.
                  "Huh?" I said. "Oh! Well it looks like a storm, I was thinking 
                             that maybe we should stay here tonight.".
                                "Well you did promise," Dylan said.
                  Kelly nodded, "Yeah, Dad. You said we were going back to where 
                  we stayed last night. You promised. Dylan and I like it there."
                    I smiled and gave in, there was still some time before the 
                 storm arrived. "Okay, Dylan," I said, "You know what to do, go up 
                there and let go the rope when I say. Kelly, you keep watch behind 
                                                me."
                    The boys jumped, eager to get back to the little bay they'd 
                named KayDee Bay, and I started the engines. As soon as we were in 
                 the channel I sent the boys down into the cabin to start putting 
                  things away. I opened the throttles wide open on the twin fifty 
                horsepower Evinrudes and headed back across the lake at full speed. 
               The sky was getting even darker as I reached the other side, turning 
                an almost greenish color, and I could hear the threatening roll of 
                thunder in the distance. I almost missed the break in the shoreline 
                  that led into our bay. Once inside the narrow opening I cut the 
                engines and drifted until the boat stopped. I went forward, dropped 
                    the anchor, then went into the cabin just as the first huge 
                raindrops started splattering on the deck. Perfect timing. The boys 
                 had finished unpacking the things we'd bought and were sitting on 
                 the couch looking at the two "Super Heroes" comic books  they had 
                                       tossed into the cart.
                        Dylan looked up with a grin, "Just made that, huh?"
                      I nodded, "You're not wrong Dylan. Won't be able to go 
                                       swimming now though."
                    The boys shrugged. For the moment at least comic books won 
                over swimming and playing on the shore. In the little bay, we were 
                 protected. Through the window we could see the trees at the tops 
                  of the surrounding hills being tossed in the wind, but where we 
                  were moored was calm. I went to the refrigerator, actually more 
               like an ice chest, and retrieved a beer. I had only brought a dozen, 
                but who would have expected that this would be a dry county. I went 
                  over to the boys and sat on the only other chair, watching them 
                 recline on the couch, now completely absorbed by the comics. They 
                                        were quiet at last.
                   Dylan looked sexy, he was dressed in his black tee shirt and 
                  shorts. His golden-blond hair seemed to glisten even in the dim 
                light provided by the cabin lights. His hands seemed so small, his 
                   fingers deftly turning the pages, then pausing as he read the 
                 captions. His arms were slender, even browner than they had been 
                only hours ago. I could not look away even I had wanted to. It was 
                     as if the boy had a magnetic power, demanding my complete 
                 attention. His body seemed so small, so fragile, so innocent. His 
                    legs were slightly apart, slender and as brown as his arms, 
                disappearing into his shorts, leading upward to the most wonderful 
                part of him, the small, ever-present little bulge that was revealed 
                by the folds in the soft cotton. He radiated sex. It seemed to come 
                 from every part of him, from every motion. Dylan lay on his side 
                next to Kelly, supporting his head on one hand, his elbow pressing 
                 into the couch only a fraction of an inch from Kelly's bare leg. 
                    After about five minutes Dylan looked up suddenly from his 
                 comic book, caught my eyes and grinned. He pushed the comic book 
                 away, momentarily sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, brushed 
                 the hair back from his forehead, wriggled on the couch, stretched 
                  and arched his back like a cat, smiled at me again, and finally 
                                           said, "Well?"
                   I smiled back. I tried to read the boy's mind, concentrating 
                    my entire being as I focused on him, "Huh?" I said absently.
                     Dylan smiled, "Well?" He slowly came out of his reclining 
                 position and sat up, stretched his arms back and yawned, then his 
                 eyes met mine again. The 'magnetism' was overpowering. I watched 
                the boy breathe deeply, in and then out, letting out a little sigh 
                  that conveyed as much to me as anything he could have said. He 
                glanced at the doorway that led back to the bedroom, then his eyes 
                                         returned to mine.
                     "Well?" I said teasingly. Dylan smiled shyly. "You bored 
                  kiddo?" I added playfully. Dylan raised his eyebrows slightly, 
                                      meaningfully, knowingly.
                    "I am," Kelly piped in. "It's too soon for dinner. What are 
                                         we gonna do now?"
                         I grinned, "What do you guys want to do?" I asked.
                    "I dunno," Kelly said, "Maybe watch TV, I guess,... or play 
                          games,... we did bring some,... I know we did."
                   I nodded, "I think they're in the bedroom. You can get one if 
                                             you want."
                    Kelly scrambled to his feet and started into the next room. 
                 There was a disappointed look on Dylan's face that was much like 
                 the look on mine. "Heh, Kelly, hold on a sec', I've got a better 
                 idea. How about we play cards instead," I said quickly, suddenly 
                  remembering that I'd seen a deck of cards somewhere on the boat.
                    "Well,... can't we play Monopoly or something else. I don't 
                              know how to play cards," Kelly replied.
                   I glanced at Dylan. The older boy shrugged. The last thing I 
                wanted to do was play Junior Monopoly. "Okay, well I'll teach you. 
                                   You want to play cards Dylan?"
                    "Yeah! I guess so... But I don't know how to play either," 
                                            Dylan added.
                  I laughed, suddenly remembering where I'd seen the cards. They 
                 were in the bedroom, in the drawer next to the bed. I told Kelly 
                 where the cards were and he went off to get them. He came back a 
                minute later and passed the box to me. I opened the box. The cards 
                 were still new, they had a picture of the marina on the back and 
                  the name and phone number of the rental company. I shuffled the 
                deck clumsily, I was never much good at that. "Okay, so what do you 
                  guys want to learn first? Poker?" The boys looked at me without 
                  much interest. I grinned, "Okay,... how about,... strip poker?"
                                That piqued Dylan's interest, "Huh?"
                  "Strip poker,... we play for clothes." I smiled at the boy and 
                raised my eyebrows, "You lose a hand, you lose a piece of clothing. 
                                The last person to be naked, wins."
                    The boys giggled. "Yeah?" Dylan smirked as the idea grew in 
                                  his mind, "Wins what?" he added.
                    The boy had me there, what on earth did one win with strip 
                  poker, other than seeing the other guys strip. I shrugged as I 
                 thought, "Oh I don't know. I guess anything. We'd have to decide 
                                          that I s'pose."
                   Kelly and Dylan grinned at each other and then at me. "Okay, 
                 I know," Dylan smirked, then added, "The winner gets what ever he 
                                           wants, okay?"
                   I laughed, the boy was catching on fast. "Okay that's fair." 
                 Kelly nodded his agreement. I placed the cards into three almost 
                   equal piles, then distributed them to the boys and myself. I 
                  figured that we each had seven pieces of clothing to lose. "The 
                rules are really simple guys, I'll teach you as we go. If you lose 
                  a hand, you have to take off one piece of clothing,... and each 
                sock or shoe counts as one piece." The boys exchanged grins. I put 
                 down the first card, a Ten of Hearts. "Okay Dylan, your turn." He 
                            put down a Three of Spades. "Now you Kelly."
                   He turned the card over slowly, looking at it as he peeled it 
                away. It was a Jack of Diamonds. I grinned. "Okay, now when someone 
                 puts down a card like this, either a Jack, or a Queen, or a King 
                or an Ace, then the next person has to put cards down on top of it. 
                Like I have to put one card on Kelly's Jack. If it was a Queen I'd 
                put two, three on a King and four cards on an Ace." I drew a card, 
                it was a Six of Hearts. "Now I lose this hand so I have to take off 
                a piece of clothing." The boys giggled as I kicked off a shoe. "Now 
                                        Dylan you go next."
                      The game continued for about ten minutes, amid a lot of 
                giggles and teasing, until Kelly and I were down to our shorts and 
                Dylan still had the additional cover of his tee shirt. On the next 
                  hand Dylan dropped a Jack of Spades onto the pile. Slowly Kelly 
                lifted up the next card, then grinning cheekily, dropped a Nine of 
                 Hearts on the pile. My son giggled sheepishly, glanced at me, and 
                  stood up. Without a word he pulled his shorts downward, letting 
                 them slide down his little brown legs to his feet. He stepped out 
                of them, dressed only in his bikini-briefs. Like me, and I expected 
                  like Dylan, he was as hard as a rock, his little penis sticking 
                   outward and upward in the taut patterned nylon, the tiny head 
                 clearly outlined in the thin material by the little ridge around 
                        it. He smirked and then sat down on the couch again.
                  On the next round it was my turn to drop the shorts. I followed 
                 Kelly's example and stood up, shucking my shorts to the amusement 
                of the two boys. My penis was fully erect and it stuck up under the 
                elastic waist-band of my briefs. The boys chortled as my penis came 
                  into view, the swollen purplish head and about two more inches 
                poking out. I laughed with them, pushing it to one side so that it 
               was covered before I sat down again. We played two more rounds until 
                I played an Ace to Dylan and he wasn't able to cover it. He grinned 
                  at me and slid out of his tee shirt, pulling it upward over his 
                  head and then he tossed it at me playfully. The cloth was still 
                        warm from the contact with his beautiful young body.
                     On the next round Dylan played a Queen of Diamonds. Kelly 
                peeled a Five from his cards first, smiled at Dylan and then slowly 
                lifted up a Seven of Spades. He hesitated. "Go on Kelly, drop 'em," 
                 Dylan laughed. My son blushed slightly as he stood up. Slowly his 
                hands moved to his sides, then lifting the thin elastic waist-band 
                 outward and away from the small spike that jutted from his pubis. 
               He tugged them down, all the way to the floor before he straightened 
                up. His penis was rigid, perhaps harder than it had ever been. Tiny 
                 blue ripples marked the swollen veins, the skin so delicate that 
                  it seemed almost transparent. His scrotum was still loose, the 
                  rounded shape of his little testicles visible in the soft pink 
                 folds. I gazed at my naked son. Nearly seven, his little body was 
                perfectly proportioned, his thighs and pelvis already a bit darker 
                  from his exposure to the sun that afternoon. Kelly giggled, his 
                 hand coming instinctively to his penis, stroking himself gently, 
                 as he looked at Dylan and me, shamelessly but naturally excited. 
                  Then his fingers moved around so that they were supporting his 
                immature testicles, cupping them, squeezing as gently as he could. 
                He looked anxiously at me for a few seconds. The room was suddenly 
               very quiet. I smiled at Kelly and he smiled back and then he flopped 
                           back down on the couch, now out of the game. 
                    Dylan was one piece of clothing behind me and I took it on 
                that round. He stripped off his shorts the same way that Kelly and 
                   I had, standing up and looking at me, holding my gaze for an 
                 instant, then deliberately, slowly, pulling then down his thighs. 
                  Like Kelly he was wearing his new patterned bikini-briefs. His 
                 penis was sticking out too, pulling the nylon into tight, small  
                folds from between his legs, his ball-sac forming a little rounded 
                 hemisphere below. Dylan and I grinned at each other, we were now 
                   on an even footing. I drew the next card, an Eight of Hearts. 
                 Dylan's card was a King of Clubs. I played two losers. The third 
                card I drew slowly, watching the boy's eyes as he tried to peek. I 
                 sighed, breathing out in relief. It was the Jack of Hearts. Dylan 
                looked up suddenly, seriously, challenging me with a silent stare. 
                   He knew I hadn't cheated but he tried to pretend anger. "You 
                                 cheated," he accused me playfully.
                     I laughed and shook my head, "Your turn kiddo," I teased.
                  Dylan shook his head, then he smiled at me cheekily. He lifted 
                 up his next card so that I couldn't see it and peeked underneath. 
                 Then he looked back at me, his eyes alight with a sudden surge of 
                excitement. I saw a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, his 
                 little dimples suddenly appearing as if by magic. Then slowly he 
                          turned the card over. It was the Two of Hearts.
                  I smiled at Dylan and he stood up, his little hard penis making 
                 a pointed tent in his briefs. His hands came to his hips, slipped 
                under the waist-band and pulled down slowly, his eyes meeting mine 
               as I watched intently. The tip of his penis caught under the elastic 
                 and was pulled downward, then suddenly it sprang free and snapped 
                 back up, slapping against his lower belly. It seemed loud in the 
                 silent room. I watched as Dylan completed the motion, pushing his 
                   bikini-briefs all the way to the floor. Then the boy stood up 
                straight again, his lithe slender body as straight and full of life 
                  as the little hard penis that throbbed between his legs. He was 
                beautiful. He stood still and silent, waiting as my eyes travelled 
                 up and down, taking in every precious inch of him. Now naked, he 
                 was freed from the inhibitions that come with clothes. He flexed 
                     his penis, making it jerk slightly, hungrily, his scrotum 
                tightening and drawing his testicles upward for the merest fraction 
                         of an inch. The boy's sexuality was overpowering.
                  "You win!" Dylan said huskily as he grinned. My eyes came back 
                                to his. "You get whatever you want."
                   I half-closed my eyes, pretending to think, "Hmmmm! Whatever 
                         I want?" I said, trying hard to control my voice.
                      "Huh huh!" Dylan said, his voice becoming urgent as he 
                                          breathed deeply.
                     I stood up, "Well,... what if,... I want,... you?" I said 
                           slowly as I stood up and took a step forward.
                           The boy breathed out, "Huh huh!" he whispered.
                    I could see his chest rising and falling, his ribs outlined 
                  in the smooth brown skin, the firm muscles of his belly almost 
                quivering. The boy swallowed, then his little pink tongue came out 
                and he licked his bottom lip. Desire, lust, love, cascaded through 
               my mind. I could have whatever I wanted. What I wanted, Dylan wanted 
                 as well. Kelly, now excluded from the 'game', was sprawled out on 
                  the couch. He twisted around and looked up at us silently, his 
                   attention now diverted away from his comic book, even if only 
                 briefly. I reached forward and gently took Dylan's hand and drew 
                the boy slowly, inexorably towards me. As his body brushed lightly 
                 against mine it felt as though something arced between us. He was 
                 warm and alive, bursting with the energy of youth, spilling into 
                 my body and renewing me. I stooped slightly, placing my left arm 
                 behind his knees, my right arm around his narrow shoulders, and I 
                lifted the naked twelve-year-old boy up in my arms. This beautiful 
                      boy was mine, mine to love and to cherish and to enjoy.
                  I stood there looking down at Dylan as he lay back in my arms. 
                He was excited. From his breathing, from the rapid movement of his 
                eyes, from the beating of his heart, from the unmistakable tremble, 
                  I knew he was excited. He was happy and eager. For a moment we 
                   looked into each other's eyes, sharing our thoughts silently. 
                   Outside the storm had passed, now there was just the steady, 
                 peaceful sound of rain falling on the deck above us. Carefully I 
                 carried the boy through the doorway and into the bedroom. I left 
                 the door open. Kelly knew enough to leave us alone and even if he 
               didn't, I knew that my son would see nothing that he had not already 
                seen. I placed Dylan on the bed, then kneeled over him, straddling 
                 his slender legs. Lying there on the white sheets the boy looked 
                 innocent, almost virginal, perfect in every way. His arms reached 
                  up for me, his hands locking behind my neck, pulling me down to 
                 him. The kiss was sweet and gentle at first, then as our passion 
                  grew, his mouth became wetter and his little tongue became more 
                  active. We kissed and kissed, longer and harder than we'd ever 
                                           kissed before.
                    When we parted after long and very wet minutes we were both 
                trembling, our hearts pounding rapidly, our cocks throbbing, aching 
                 for relief. The boys had placed the KY on the night-stand beside 
                  the bed. One box was already opened and the tube had been taken 
                out. The plastic cap was back in place but I could see that it had 
                     been squeezed, even if only slightly, but such is a boy's 
                curiosity. I picked it up and flicked the cap back, then squeezed, 
                  watching the crystalline jelly ooze out onto the fingers of my 
                  right hand, a long thin glistening diamond. Dylan watched with 
                 fascination, then as I placed the tube back on the night-stand he 
                   rolled over, twisting so that he lay on his belly, his little 
                buttocks lifted up slightly, waiting. I settled beside the boy, one 
                 leg over his, parting his crack with my fingers and smearing most 
                  of the gel directly into and around the small soft place in the 
                center of his crack. The boy was serene as he felt the pressure of 
               my finger, then suddenly I penetrated him and he sighed as my finger 
                                           sank into him.
                   When Dylan was ready he let me know, his sighs becoming more 
                   intense, his breathing coming in spurts, then when he started 
                 working his hips obscenely I used more KY to lubricate my penis. 
                  Getting that first inch of my penis inside Dylan is always the 
                 hardest. It's painful more often than not because the boy's body 
                  has to yield and accept the presence of my penis while his anal 
                band tries to resist. But once inside, I gave him a few minutes to 
                   adjust. The tension faded slowly and I began to increase the 
                pressure, sinking into him a fraction of inch at a time until five 
                  inches of my penis was inside him. Then I began moving gently, 
                 letting Dylan's body relax momentarily after each forward thrust. 
                Dylan trembled, quivered, shuddered, and cried, not in pain but in 
                 that incredible delight that began inside him and flowed through 
                                          his young body.
                   We climaxed within seconds of each other, both of us shaking 
                uncontrollably, my cock jerking wildly with exploding spasms. Then 
                  we collapsed, exhausted, our passion quietened at least for the 
                present. I lay over Dylan, careful to take most of my weight on my 
                 elbows, but keeping my groin hard against his small pale cheeks. 
                 My cock softened and I felt the seal between us getting weaker. I 
                was still part of Dylan's body, as he was still part of mine. After 
                 a long while I finally extricated my penis from its hot wet home 
                   and we dozed off, like lovers often do after sex, our hearts 
                 content, our bodies satisfied. Dylan was curled up with his head 
                 on my shoulder, one arm draped possessively across my chest, one 
                leg over my thighs, just touching my genitals, his own immature sex 
                                organs pressed firmly into my side. 
                  It was nearly dark when I awoke and I was startled to see Kelly 
                   standing by the bed looking down at us. A moment later Dylan 
                struggled awake, blinking and rubbing his eyes sleepily. The sweet 
                 musky smell of our love-making seemed heavy in the air. He smiled 
                 at Kelly. It was smile that conveyed his happiness, his affection 
                 for the other boy. In the faint light I barely saw my son's lips 
                 press together, the boy's desire evident in his hard short penis, 
                 his little brown chest rising and falling rhythmically. I reached 
                 out and took Kelly by the hand. Like Dylan, I saw a smile form at 
                the corners of his mouth, then widen until he beamed happily. I was 
                  uncertain, I knew that psychologists would say the boy would be 
                 damaged, but I knew that it was something that Kelly wanted every 
                bit as much as Dylan. He came willingly, drawn forward by my hand, 
                down onto the bed. I reached back to the night-stand and picked up 
                the tube of KY. We'd have to get more pretty quickly I realized as 
                   I passed it to Dylan and settled back in the pillows to watch.
                    ..........................THE END...........................
                                             Epilogue.
               After three wonderful weeks on the houseboat both Dylan and Kelly had
              sun tans you wouldn't believe (head to toe, and everything in between).
                 Dylan's hair was silver-blonde and Kelly's was a couple of shades
               lighter as well. They were both very happy boys and a close friendship
                 had developed between them, despite the difference in their ages.
                     Both Dylan and his mother live with Kelly and me now. The 
                  relationship that was formed during the three weeks aboard the 
                honeymooner was so strong and so positive that we had little choice 
                but to establish 'something more permanent'. I was divorced shortly 
                 after our return. It turned out that my wife had met someone else 
                         during her forays and it was a mutual separation.
                   Dylan is now fifteen, he's nearly five foot four inches tall 
                and is about one year into puberty. He sends his love! Kelly turned 
                  ten only a few weeks ago. Like Dylan, my son is a very sexy boy 
                                    (with Dylan and only Dylan).
                             to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories 
                                                  


 

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