ben-and-nick-3

Anal

Subject: Ben and Nick Part 3 Thank you, Gentle Reader, for opening this story, a series about a man who loves boys and the boys he loves. Ben, Nick, and the rest of the cast of characters are fictional, and do not represent any person living or dead. The story is fantasy and exists in that realm, for letting the events unfold in real time and in real life would land our hero Ben in a whole heap of trouble. So, for the purposes of keeping our noses clean, gentlemen, let’s keep things unreal. Elements in this story include sex between adults and minors, some racier elements might include watersports, gainer/encourager dynamics, and groups, but for the most part just good old-fashioned cocksucking and fucking. This story definitely falls into the category of Gay/ Adult-Youth. If you enjoy this story, and others like it, please consider making a donation to keep the Nifty archive free and fty/donate.html Many of you enjoyed Bill and Sean and their incestuous love. They’ll be back soon, but we’re going to focus on Nick and Ben for a bit. Stay tuned. And now, on with our story. Ben the Boylover and his Neighbor Nick, Part 3 The rest of the week with Bill and Sean had been great. There was more sex, a lot more. More bonding. Also some great hiking, fishing, cooking out. I managed to see a few places, and found one I really liked across the lake, almost directly, from their cabin. I put in an offer, and, as it was at the end of the season, everyone – seller, agent, and buyer – were interested in closing the deal quickly. Over the next couple of weeks inspections and assessments happened, paperwork was signed, money was wired, and on Friday afternoon a FedEx envelope with the deed and the keys arrived. A local caretaker, the same one that Bill and Sean used for their place, was hired to winterize the place and look after it from time to time. I wouldn’t be doing anything with the property until the spring thaw. I was looking forward to having a new project to work on! That Saturday afternoon, I was sitting out in the backyard. It was a really beautiful day. San Francisco stays cool most of the year, and the summers can be downright inhospitable when the fog rolls in and the wind kicks up. But October is a different story – it’s usually the warmest month of the year, the wind doesn’t blow, and it can be hot and sunny. Today was such a day, warm, full of sun. I was watching some college football streamed from my iPad and enjoying a gin and tonic. I looked up when I heard a door scrape open, and saw Nick leaving his house and coming out in the yard. I hadn’t seen much of Nick since he and his mother had come over for a cookout on their first night. His school had started up, and I had been busy traveling and getting things together with my new cabin. I guess it had been about a month. Could it be that he was even pudgier than before? “Hey Nick,” I said, waving. He looked over at me, and started to walk in my direction. “Hello, Mr. Donovan,” he replied. “None of that, Nick. We’re neighbors. You can call me Ben,” I said, with a smile. “Ok, um, thanks, Ben,” the concept of calling an adult with a first name seemed strange to him. “Actually, I had a question, do you know if the internet is down?” “Hmm, I am streaming here on my iPad, and we have the same internet provider, so no, I don’t think it’s down. How long have you been experiencing it?” “Well the cable went out about thirty minutes ago, and then I went to see if I could get online, but I can’t.” “Hmm. Strange, indeed. Let’s go take a look. It should connect from the garage,” and we walked around and inside. It looked like there was some problem with the box, I’d have to call the provider. It was plugged in, but there was clearly some problem, so we were unable to restore service. “You’re welcome to come over and use my internet and cable if you need to,” I offered. His eyes lit up. “That would be great — I am supposed to game with some friends later, and we’ve been planning it for a while. Do you think I could bring over my laptop? I won’t be a bother,” he was almost pleading. “Sure, buddy. No problem,” I offered, “Come on over and you can set up either on the couch or the kitchen table, wherever you’re more comfortable. While you’re doing that, I am going to send your mom a text and let her know that you’re here, ok? I don’t want her getting worried.” “Oh,” he said, looking dejected, “I dunno. She doesn’t want to be disturbed, and told me not to call unless it was serious.” “Well, this is serious, I think. You’re not at home, and it seems like that’s where she expects you. Is your mom working on a big project for work?” I was surprised, because it was a Saturday. “Um, no, she is away for the weekend,” he reported. “For the weekend?” I was shocked. Nick was ten years old, certainly too young to stay by himself. “Yeah, she left on Friday morning and will be back on Monday,” he reported. Sensing I was uncomfortable or concerned, he tried to explain. “But she gave me lunch money, and a key, and I’ll walk to school on Monday. Everything is taken care of,” he went on. “It’s all good, buddy,” I said, supportively, even though it wasn’t good, in my opinion. “Just the same, I am going to let your mom know that you’re here, in case she calls the house. I just think it’s better to let her know. I’ll take the heat if she’s upset at being disturbed,” I qualified. He didn’t look convinced, but he said ok, and went out to get his laptop. I pulled out my cell phone, found her contact, and gave her a call. “Hello, Ben?” She picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Susan. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” “Is everything ok?” “Well, yeah. Nick came over to …” “Nick came over? I am sorry, I told him not to leave the house,” she interrupted. “He’s fine,” I said, although I was beginning to wonder if she were even concerned. “The cable and internet went out, and he saw me in the yard, and asked if I knew what to do.” “Ah, yeah, he lives online, playing games, and doing lord knows what.” I thought to myself, honey, you should know what he’s doing online, he’s your son in your house, but I bit my tongue. “Yeah, there’s a problem with the cable. I’ll put in a service ticket.” “Ok, then, so everything is ok?” I then heard a voice in the background, and she said something which was muffled. “Yeah, everything is ok. Nick said that you’re away?” “Yes. I am in Seattle for the weekend with my b … friend.” “Ok, well, I called you to let you know that Nick was going to be here using my internet. It’s no problem with me, but I told him that I wanted to let you know.” “Thanks. You’re a good neighbor. Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll talk with you later?” She was trying to get off the phone. “Yeah, nothing else. I’ll talk with you later.” “Bye,” And the phone clicked before I could return the farewell. Well, that’s a fine thing, I thought! She doesn’t know me, really, and she left her ten year-old son alone for a weekend in Seattle. What if I were a rapist or a child predator or something? Oh wait, I am. But, she doesn’t know that — but, did she not care about her boy? I was working myself up into real anger, when I heard the back door open again, and Nick came in with his laptop and power cord. I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and focused on the task at hand. “Hey there, buddy. Welcome. You can set up shop wherever you like. Let me know when you are ready, and I’ll tell you my wifi password,” I offered. He set up at the kitchen table, and within a minute he was up and ready. “What game are you playing?” A funny look crossed his face, like I was going to judge him. “It’s ok, buddy, I am a sometimes-gamer, too,” I said, trying to be friendly and supportive. He looked relieved. “World of Warcraft! I have a little guild I’ve been playing with for a couple months.” “Wow, that’s some pretty serious gaming!” I replied. And I understood why he was embarrassed. These days, kids got a lot of shit for playing that game, as it was high on nerds. It was also definitely for an older crowd, and I was somehow surprised, maybe even a little impressed that this ten year-old kid was playing. “Have fun, and enjoy!” I gave him my network and password, and he was set up. Within a couple of minutes I heard the familiar sounds. He looked up, realizing that his speakers were kind of loud. “I’ll turn it down,” he offered. “Nah. I know how it is – immerse in the game, bro,” I laughed. “I am gonna be on my laptop, and also finishing up watching some of these ball games, so if you need anything, give a shout. Oh, by the way, if you want something to drink, you know where the glasses are and how to work the fridge. Help yourself to anything you don’t need to be 21 to drink.” He paused his game, went to the cupboard, and got a glass, went to the fridge, and got ice and a can of Coke and resumed his game. Ahhh, kids. He was going to be lost to the game for a bit. After about an hour, I started getting hungry. It was just past 1 in the afternoon, and I went in to the kitchen. Nick was engrossed in his game. It was fun to see him getting into it. He was smiling, grimacing, his face acting out the emotions of the game. I pulled sandwich making stuff out of the fridge and made a big sandwich of ham and roast beef, cheese, mayo. My favorite. I made a second one for Nick, and opened a bag of chips. Putting some on my plate, I took the rest of the bag and the second plate to Nick, and set it on the table in front of him. I saw his Coke was empty, so I took his glass and refilled it with ice and soda. He smiled at my, stuck his thumb up, and went back to the game. I helped myself to a beer, and took my plate to the island to go back to my game. It felt oddly comfortable, having company, but each of us doing our own thing. I looked up, and watched Nick play his game and eat his lunch. He looked content. I know the feeling of getting immersed in a project or a game, and just letting yourself zone out and be in it, so I was glad that he felt comfortable enough. I also took a moment to reflect on the situation. I would have never known he was alone, he would never have come out of his house unless his internet had gone out. I certainly had opinions about his mother and her parenting, but I wasn’t going to complain, because it was nice to have Nick there. But really, she didn’t even ask to speak with him when I had her on the phone. She didn’t thank me for taking care of him. She didn’t seem to care, other than to know there was no emergency. I wondered if she had always been this distant, or what the story was. Maybe I’d find a way to talk about it to Nick. The afternoon dragged on. I was doing some laundry, some organizing. I had noticed Nick would get up sometimes and get more Coke. He rinsed his dish and put it in the dishwasher. The only time I’d heard from him was when he asked me where the washroom was. But now it was getting on toward 6. October might be warm and sunny, but it was fall, and it was already starting to get dark. I wondered if I should make dinner for Nick. I also thought maybe I should ask him to spend the night in a guest bedroom. At ten, Nick seemed to be able to take care of most of his basic needs, but still, it didn’t seem right to send him home alone. I walked over to the table. “Hey Nick.” I got no answer. Waving my hand, I tried to get his attention. “Hello Nick, Come in Nick!” I got a smile, and he paused his game. “Hey.” “How’s it going, raiding with your guild?” He rolled his eyes, as if the kids didn’t raid with guilds anymore. But, he answered “it’s been fun. And I am glad I have been getting to chat with my friend, Eric.” “That’s great. I’m glad you’ve had a good time.” I took a seat at the kitchen table, next to him. “So, I was thinking,” I paused, “it’s almost time for dinner, so I was gonna take care of that. But, more than that, I think it’s probably safer for you to spend the night here, rather than go back home alone. I know you’re a big boy, and clearly you are responsible, but I’d feel better if you were here tonight.” “Um, well …” he was clearly unsure of what his answer should be. manisa escort “It’s all good. Unless you can think of a good reason why you shouldn’t spend the night here, and eat some dinner with me, then I’d like you to. How about you go get whatever it is that you sleep in, and your toothbrush, and bring them back?” I opened up a kitchen drawer and handed him a reusable bag — God bless San Francisco’s commitment to canvas bags! He took it and went back out the door, and toward his house. I texted Susan that Nick was going to spend the night and that we were going to have dinner. No reply. Whatever. She wasn’t winning mother of the year. Within a few minutes, Nick was back with his bag, and he set it on the counter. “So,” I started. “Shall, we order a pizza?” I hadn’t planned on having a guest for dinner, and so I didn’t have anything prepared. Normally on a weekend, I would have had a shake, or maybe a salad, but neither of those seemed good for a boy. “I love pizza!” He said, enthusiastically. I opened up GrubHub on my phone and found my favorite local pizza place. I handed him the phone, and told him to select whatever toppings he wanted. He handed the phone back a couple of seconds later. Turns out, Nick is a pretty basic guy – pepperoni and sausage. “Ok, easy enough. Want anything else? A salad?” I got a blank response. “Wings? Mozzarella sticks? Baked Rav…” “Ooh, yeah!” He interjected. “Yeah, which?” “Yeah, mozzarella sticks,” he blushed. “One order, added. Anything else?” “Nope, that sounds good. Thank you!” He sounded excited, and, frankly, what kid wasn’t by the prospect of pizza delivery. “Great – it looks like you have about 50 more minutes to play, and by then we should have some pizza.” I didn’t even finish my sentence, before he had unpaused his game and was back at it. I smiled to myself. He was a good kid. Finally the moment arrived, the pizza was here. So, you know, I am a boylover. But I also barely have any game. I was not used to kids or entertaining them, so suddenly I wondered if I should offer to put on a movie, or, well, how did a man and a boy have a meal together? I decided a movie was a good option. “Wanna watch a movie while we eat pizza?” He closed his laptop. “Yeah!” “Great, let’s take plates and pizza to the den, and you can pick us a movie.” We took our stuff there, plates, napkins, refills of Coke, and another beer for me, and I opened up my Apple TV, and clicked on movies. “We can watch anything you want. Here,” and I handed him the remote. He selected an Avengers title, and commented that it was for rent, not a free movie. “Not a problem with me, buddy. Let’s do it!” And we were set. We settled in on the couch in the den. I have a pretty good set-up in my den. A big leather couch and two club chairs all face the a really big TV, a great surround sound system, and everything a guy could want. Soon the opening credits were rolling, and we were eating slices of pizza. I had never seen the movie and it was pretty good. About half-way through, I needed a piss break, and so I hit pause. “I’m gonna hit the head, buddy. I’ll be back in a flash.” I went to the washroom and was back in a couple of minutes. I noticed two more slices of pizza were gone, and remarked silently at how quickly he ate them, and sort of slyly, when I was out of the room. He was just wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, when I handed him a napkin. “Funny, they make these so you don’t have to use your hand,” I said, smiling. “Yeah, but I carry my hand around with me,” he quipped back immediately. I laughed, admiring his wit. He picked up another slice of pizza, and then settled back into the couch, sliding up close to me. I started the movie up again, and, man and boy, we watched it together. It just felt right to put my hand around the back of him, and as soon as I did, he snuggled into me. I loved the feeling of him against me, warm, soft, comfortable. The rest of the movie flew by, and, while it wasn’t my usual taste, it was his, and that made me happy. While we were watching, it had gotten fully dark outside, and I hadn’t turned on any lights, so when the movie ended, we were more or less sitting in complete darkness. “I’m gonna switch on a light, buddy. I guess the sun went down while we were watching the movie,” I observed. A quick look at the clock and it was about 9 in the evening. “So,” I said, switching on the lamps, “what time is your bedtime … and don’t try to tell me you don’t have one.” I put my hands on my hips in a fake aggressive display. He laughed, “7:30 on school nights. 9:00 on weekends,” he reported with sincerity … “unless the next Avengers movie is queued up and ready to watch?” he said, hopefully. “Hmmm. Well … tomorrow is Sunday. What do you have planned? Do you have school work?” “No, I wasn’t supposed to leave the house, so I had just planned to play games and chill. Really!” he said, emphatically. “Start the next one, you little weasel! Want some ice cream?” “Mmmm! Yes, please,” he said, with enthusiasm. “What don’t you like on a sundae?” I inquired. He chuckled. “Pineapple. Yuck!” “Pineapple is not yuck! But, lucky for you, I don’t have any. One ice cream sundae coming up,” and I went into the kitchen. I popped a jar of fudge sauce in the microwave for a few seconds, then did the same with some caramel. I scooped out some vanilla into two bowls, sliced up a couple of bananas, and then drizzled chocolate and caramel on my handiwork. I didn’t have cherries or whipped cream, so these were pretty basic. Instantly, a dirty thought crossed my mind – I know where I can get a cherry, he’s sitting right there! I put the thought out of my head, and came back to the den bearing gifts. He’d held the movie for me, which I thought was sweet, even though I didn’t particularly care about missing it. We clinked spoons, and then he tucked into his sundae. They were kind of on the big side – I knew I was going to have to put in some extra time in the gym tomorrow. Another thought skipped into my mind about the effect it would have on this chubby ten year-old who was only going to play games tomorrow. I decided I liked it, and went back to focusing on the movie. After we finished our ice cream, I got up and took our bowls to the kitchen. I came back, and immediately put my arm around Nick again, and this time he cuddled right into me, almost sitting on my lap. As we watched the movie, I rubbed his shoulder, and traced my finger down his arm past his short sleeve and felt the soft flesh of his arm. I moved slowly, enjoying the feeling of his body, and hoping that the little massage felt good to him, too. At one point I heard a little sigh, and he relaxed even more into me. As he did, he turned a bit, twisting more of his chest out. Well, the honorable pervert in me couldn’t help but inch my way toward his chubby tit, and it didn’t take long for me to graze his nipple with my hand as I swept up his chest. He jumped a little, then relaxed again, focused on the movie. I think my little fatboy has wired nipples. So, I went back for more, again, casually grazing him. Same reaction. Emboldened, I let my fingertips linger, and, feeling no objection, I scissored my fingers together, and gave his nipple a little pinch. “Oooh,” he made a sound. “Oops, I hope that didn’t startle you!” I said, with what I hoped sounded like sincerity. “If felt good,” came the soft reply. “Would you like me to keep rubbing you?” It’s always appropriate to ask permission before touching a boy intimately. After all, I might be ready with suggestion, but he was in charge of his body. “Yeah, I like it. It feels good to be touched.” The way he said it made me feel like he doesn’t get much physical affection, and, judging by how easily his mother had left him alone for the weekend, perhaps he didn’t get much in the way of love at all. “Well, how about we try this,” I paused the movie. Moving him to the side, I scooted the big ottoman in front of us, I swung my legs onto it, and spread them a bit. “Climb in, put your back against my chest, then I can use both hands on you,” I suggested. “Would that make you feel comfortable?” He did as suggested, but before he got comfortable, I leaned forward and slipped my shirt over my head. It was getting warm cuddling up next to a soft little body. “Why don’t you get comfortable, too? It’s just us guys here.” He turned his head to look at me, with a little surprise, or maybe a bit of fear. “It’s ok, Nick. It’s warm here on the couch, but if you’re not ok with taking off your shirt, you don’t have to. And, is it ok that I did?” I asked, hoping it was. “I guess it’s cool. I, um, I don’t have a nice body like you do, though,” he said, fearfully. Now it was out in the open. I knew I could turn this situation around. “You know what? Your body is perfectly fine. It’s yours. And it’s very nice,” I said, and I meant it. “Really? You think so? But, my mom says I am getting fat.” His voice lowered a bit as he said that. I could tell that she’d been riding him about it, and he was self conscious. “I am going to be honest with you, Nick, because we’re both guys, and men are honest with each other. Some people are big, some are small, some have muscles, and some have big bellies. It’s what’s in here,” I touched his heart, “that matters. Really. If you want to make a change, you have it within you to do it. But, from my perspective, love what you have, and others will love it, too.” I actually believe that, and I said it with conviction. “Thanks, Ben,” he said, with some certainty, and he slipped his shirt up over his head. I helped him out of it, and, that accomplished, we got into our comfortable position. I cannot tell you even a bit of what happened in the rest of the movie. The TV could have caught on fire, and I might not have noticed. I was focused on more than 80 pounds of boy in my lap. I felt like I’d been given permission, and so I let my hands run free. I rubbed his shoulders and neck and his chest. I ran across his nipples, and tweaked them almost every time I passed them. I let my hands venture further down and rub his belly, the soft buttery belly jiggled under my hands. I slid around and felt his lovehandles and came back up under his pits, where he had just the beginning of a soft roll of fat. He relaxed, sighed, ooohed a few times. I could tell he was enjoying this. I knew I was enjoying this. My cock was hard as a baseball bat. He had to feel it, pressed up against me. It was actually uncomfortably pressed against my leg, as I hadn’t thought to point it upward when we got into the position so it might have had a chance to grow against my tummy instead of down my leg, but, needs must, and I soldiered on. Rubbing, squeezing. I was discovering his erogenous zones – nipples, arm pits (I was picturing my tongue and beard pressed into it), and his lovehandles. They didn’t seem to tickle him, they seemed to soothe him when I stroked along them. I felt him stir, and I looked up. I had been looking at his chest, and not the tv, and didn’t realize that the movie was over. Not only was it over, but the credits had rolled. I looked down, and he was looking right up at me. I smiled, and he returned it. I brought my hands up from his torso to his face, and I rubbed along his jaw line, and the bridge of his nose, and his ears, and very gently took my index finger and traced his lips. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled, his lips parting slightly. I really wanted to dip my finger into his mouth, just along the wetness of his lip, but I felt like that was too much. (I know, really, I was totally perving on him, but that’s where I drew my line.) He opened his eyes, and I was looking right down at him. “Thank you. I’ve never been touched like that before. It was so nice. It almost tickled, but then it felt comfortable.” Yeah, kid, I thought, that’s what sex feels like. “Yeah? Well, I am glad. Making you feel comfortable is what I aim to do.” He clearly didn’t know what to say, so he made a move like he was going to sit up. I slipped my hands under his arm pits, and pulled him up into more of maraş escort a sitting position as he pushed back with his legs. He swung to the side, and put his feet on the floor, and made to stand up, but my leg was in the way, and he ended up falling back down across my lap. He giggled nervously. And I laughed, too. “Well, how about I move out of the way and help you up, big boy.” We got him standing again and then I joined him. Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Let’s grab your bag from the kitchen counter, and I’ll take you to your room. I had a couple of guest rooms, and I led him to the one that was adjacent to mine. Dropping his bag on the bed I showed him how to open and close the blinds, how to turn on the lamp and the ceiling fan if he got warm, and then led him back into the hall to show him his bathroom. Opening a cupboard, I took out a fluffy towel and put it on the side of the counter. “Shower, sink, whatever you need. I’ll let you do your thing, buddy. My room is next to yours, and if you need anything, just holler.” “I forgot to bring a phone cord. Do you have one that I could borrow? My phone is dead,” he asked. “Sure thing, buddy, I’ll get one and put it on your nightstand for you.” As I turned to leave the bathroom, Nick grabbed my hand. I think he’d reached for my forearm, but it was already out of reach. I stopped and turned toward him. He reached out his hands, like he wanted a hug. I pulled him close into me, and he held tight. I felt his back shake a bit, and when I pulled back a few inches, I could see he was crying. I slipped my hands under his armpits, and picked him up, sitting him on the counter in front of me, and I faced him. I took his face in my hands, gently, and asked him what was going on. “I miss my dad,” he said. “Aww, buddy, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your position. I bet he misses you, too,” I tried to reassure him. “My mom won’t let me talk with him, so I have to wait until Saturday afternoons when she can be listening to talk with dad. Today, she wasn’t here, so I wasn’t able to talk with him,” he explained. My heart went out to the kid – divorce was rough on parents. I had a thought to maybe let him call his dad, but at the same time, it wasn’t my place to intervene like that. If I wanted to keep on seeing Nick, and I did, I couldn’t risk pissing off his mother. “Well, I am sure he was thinking about you, too,” I said, not even knowing if that were the case. What Nick said next confirmed it. “He didn’t call, or text, or anything to see how I was, or why we weren’t talking!” Nick was getting emotional. “He’s done this before. I really think he was happy to get rid of me when he left,” Nick sobbed. Damn, this was getting deep. I held him more closely, wrapping my arms around him, and letting him cry against my chest. I kissed the top of his head and massaged his back and shoulders in big, gentle circles. I didn’t try to say anything. Nick seemed justified in his feelings for his parents, who I was beginning to think were both lousy. Eventually, Nick calmed down, and I felt him pull his head away from my chest. I bent my head down to look at him, and he was looking up at me. I cupped his cherubic face in my hands, and smoothed his hair, and wiped the tears from his eyes and cheeks. He took a deep breath, and sniffled a little. I reached on the counter next to him, and pulled a tissue out of the box, and wiped his nose and face. As he looked up at me, it just felt natural to kiss his forehead tenderly. At the contact of my lips to his warm skin, he sighed, and snuggled up a little more closely. I could feel his need for affection and attention, and, not only because I am a pervert, but also because I am a nice guy, I wanted to satisfy his needs in that moment. I caressed his face, and smiled as I looked into his eyes. He was watching me. He had a look of curiosity, trust, maybe a little uncertainty. I tried kissing his forehead again, and he smiled. He parted his legs, and I fell forward against the counter and into him. We laughed at the sudden change, and then I was fully pressed against him. My cock, with nothing to stop it, began to harden instantly as it was pressed against his warm, soft belly. I was certain he could feel it, I mean, how could he not? If he noticed, he said nothing, and he didn’t move back. I looked down at him and smiled again. He smiled back. And in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to taste his lips. So I tilted his head upwards gently and slowly leaned down, giving him opportunity to turn his cheek or to say something if he didn’t want this. Seeing no objection, I went in for the kiss. A light graze, my lips on his. Instinctively, he pulled back and licked his lips, and I kissed him again, this time lingering a little longer. “You taste like beer,” he said, giggling. “And you taste like chocolate sauce and ice cream,” I replied, “and I love chocolate sauce and ice cream!” I kissed him again, this time more boldly. I kept my lips on his, and caressed his face gently with my hands. He gripped me, and eventually, just as he had when I was tracing his lips with my finger earlier, he parted his lips. My tongue traced along his lips, wetting them, and feeling their wetness. He pulled back a little, and giggled. “That feels tickly and good, just like it did with your finger.” “That’s the point, Nick. Kissing feels good, and it’s a way that two people can make each other feel good.” “I think I like kissing,” he said, matter-of-factly. I chuckled, “I like kissing you.” And so we did, we kissed more, and the kiss deepened. My cock kept hardening, too, and, as I was in loose clothes, it must have looked and felt obscene, but this was definitely an erotic moment, and my dick was responding to it. I decided to test and see if he wanted this as much as I did. Again, as you know by now, I never like to force. “Well, now, we came in here, to get you situated for the night, and here I am, keeping you up later,” I said, pulling back slightly. I felt his arms clutch, holding me in place, “I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” he said, with a conspiratorial tone. He had no idea how true that needed to be. I suspected he was talking about his bedtime and the fact that I’d already let him stay up late, but, of course, I knew at some point I was going to have to talk with him about this kissing and what he should and should not say, but that conversation could wait, for now. “Well, aren’t you a little devil? A cute one, at that,” I reassured him. I felt him pull me closer. Was he really about to initiate another kiss? Was I imagining this? Did he want to kiss me, for real? I was midthought, when our lips came back together, at his urging. And there he was, pressing against me. I licked his lips gently again, taking little light swabs at them. Pulling back just enough that my lips could move independently, I suggested, “You can use your tongue with my lips, too. It feels good for both of us.” He understood immediately, and he copied my actions. He was a quick study — such a smart boy. The kiss kept getting deeper and hotter. Eventually, I pulled back again, and he actually whimpered. I smiled, “I’m not going anywhere, but it did strike me that maybe this would feel better if we weren’t in the bathroom. How would you feel about moving to my bed?” I stepped back one full step from the counter, and he hopped off. Grabbing my hand, he let me lead him out of the bathroom and down the hall to my room. Unsure of what to do next, Nick stood at the side of the bed. I walked around him, keeping hold of his hand, and sat down on the bed. “Hop on up,” I encouraged, and as he did, I slid my legs down so that I was propped up on my elbow. He nestled right into me, and was lying on his back, one arm wedged between us, the other to his other side. I reached out with my other hand and rubbed his belly and chest. We were still shirtless, and I took advantage of that, letting my hands roam freely. Dropping my head to his, our lips found each other again, and I kissed him, this time, with more passion. To my delight and my surprise, he responded in kind, and his kisses were deeper and more passionate. I let my hands run over his belly and chest and nipples, tweaking his nipples gently, and feeling them harden into pert little nubs as I did. From the moans and the writhing I could tell he was enjoying it. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I asked, during one of our very short breaks to catch our breath. “I’ve never kissed anyone like this before today,” he admitted. “So, I’m your first?” I said, blushing. “Um, yeah…” he said, quietly, “and, you’re a good, um, teacher.” “Well, you’re a good student, too, Nick, and, might I say, you’re really beautiful.” “Beautiful? Girls are beautiful!” He was unsure if I was insulting him or not. “Well, I don’t agree — first, well, I’m not attracted to girls, so, that’s never a word I’d used to describe them; but more than that, beauty is just a fact. Men, women, boys, girls can be beautiful. Now, if I said you were pretty, that might be weird,” I tried to explain. “But, in the end, it’s about the feeling behind the words, rather than the words themselves. When I tell you you look good, beautiful, handsome, whatever, what I mean is, I really like you, and to me, you are … well, beautiful.” He looked confused, and also curious. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me,” he said, very quietly. “Well, I’d like to be the first to say it, and I’ll keep saying it as long as you’ll let me.” He blushed, and reached up with his head to kiss me. It was a new kind of kiss for us – very soft, but sensual. Slow, full of passion. Sweet. From the look in his eyes, I think he was full of puppy love. And what can you do with puppy love except to return it, and so, I repeated the kiss to him, slow and sensual, and sweet. Then he did something unexpected. He reached up with his hands and began touching me. Running his pudgy hands over my body, and my chest. He grazed my nipple as I had done to his, and was surprised when he got the same reaction – a gasp and sigh as my nipple hardened immediately. “So, your chest does that, too?” He asked. “Yep. Many guys have very sensitive nipples, and it seems like you and I sure do. It feels good – you feel good,” I said, truthfully. This seemed to embolden him, and he rubbed more on my chest and belly. I rolled over onto my back, and pulled him with me, so he was on top of me. His thick legs straddled my pelvis, and he rubbed me more and more. I was getting very turned on. “May I ask you a question?” He said, looking unsure. “You bet, Nick. Ask me anything.” “Kissing you has made my peepee hard, and I can tell yours is, too. I know it must be related to feeling good, but I don’t know why?” “Well, you are a very smart boy to connect the dots like that. And you’re right, feeling good – that tingly tickle you were describing before – is absolutely related to your cock getting hard. That happens when your body is stimulated.” “Well, you have been like that for a long time. Does it go back to normal?” “Yes, eventually, you will return to normal. But’s also perfectly natural for it to be hard. May I ask you a question, Nick?” “Sure!” I was really surprised at how bold he was. “Is this your first conversation about things like this? Did your mom or your dad ever say anything to you about your body and how it changes as you grow up? Or did they ever talk about where babies come from and all that?” “No. My dad had a magazine with pictures in it once, and when I saw it, he took it, and told me I would learn about it someday, but I was too young.” “How old were you when you saw that?” “Ten, just like now. I saw it a few months ago, before he left.” “That’s interesting that he said that. I feel like when someone asks questions, it means they’re ready to know. Maybe your dad just didn’t want you to know that he had magazines like that. They are usually something people keep hidden, especially when they are married. What was the magazine, do you remember?” “It was called Playboy, and I have heard boys mardin escort at school talk about it. I guess it’s for adults. There was a picture of a woman on it.” “Yes, that’s a popular magazine with some men.” “Do you read it?” He inquired. “No, no, I don’t. It’s not for me.” He looked confused. “This is a pretty big conversation, buddy, and I want you to know I can have it with you, it’s just, you know, very personal,” I tried to explain. He didn’t say anything, so I spoke again. “OK, well, I am not interested in women in a personal way. As friends, or coworkers, of course, but not for personal time. For example, I’d never do what you and I are doing with a woman.” There. I said it. “I don’t think I am, either.” He said, assuredly. “Well, buddy, that’s a big statement, and you’re just ten years old. Maybe you might like it with a woman?” He looked confused. “But, my peepee is hard with you, so, doesn’t that mean that I feel good with what we are doing?” I couldn’t argue with his logic. “Let’s put it this way. Today this feels good to you. Consider it … like, an experience. If you have other experiences like it, then, well, it will become like a pattern, and you might be able to say what you like and what you don’t like. But for now, it’s enough to say that you like doing what we are doing, without having to commit to something as a life choice. Does that make sense?” He looked like he wasn’t buying it, but he shrugged his shoulders, and went back to the point at hand, so to speak. “Ok, so, why does my peepee get hard?” I laughed. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted, and I realized I offended him. I reached up, stroked his chest and cupped his face, and caressed him. “Nick, I am not laughing at you. Two things: One, let’s call it a cock or a dick or a penis, and not a peepee. We’re talking about man things, so, let’s have man parts. Second, Ok, I’ll tell you why.” He looked relaxed, until I said the next thing. “And, so, let’s get naked, and we can touch our cocks as I tell you about it.” I realized this was a big escalation, but, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He didn’t seem to mind this at all, and he rolled off me, and, as quickly as anything, he took off his shorts and his tighty whities. I did the same, tossing my briefs onto the floor. And there I saw him. Three proud inches sticking out from his hairless body. And then I saw his eyes widen as he looked down at mine. “Yeah. I am pretty big, buddy. And so are you. Look at how hard you are!” I praised him, and he looked proud. I pulled him close again, and kissed him. “May I touch your cock, Nick?” I brought my hand to the bottom of his belly, and hovered just over his dick, waiting for his permission. He swallowed hard, and nodded his head. And then I touched him for the first time. I wrapped my fingers around him and let him slide through my open fist, concentrating on his sensitive cut head. I did that a couple of times, and his body shuddered and he moaned. “OK, so, that feels pretty good, right?” I asked. “Uh huh,” he confirmed, almost breathlessly. I took a deep breath, and organized my thoughts. “Other than peeing, a man uses his dick for two main reasons – to feel good or make others feel good, and to reproduce. In reproduction, or, sex, a guy and a girl line their parts up, and he sticks it into her. When he makes himself feel good, which he does like I am doing to you now, thrusting against your dick, eventually he will come – that means that sperm will come out of him and into the woman. If everything goes well, nine months later there’s a baby. There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s the basic science. I can tell you more if you want. “But, we’re not women, so, it’s different. We can still make each other feel good, just like we are now,” I kept stroking him, making a twisting motion on his shaft. I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer judging from the way his breathing hitched. “You still with me?” He nodded, urging me along. “OK, so, you feel how your body is tingling now? You feel like you are rushing and running?” I increased my friction and tempo, until I saw it happen over his face. That beautiful look, his cum face. His body shook, and he thrust into my hand, and he moaned all at once. Three convulsions wracked his body, as his tits and belly jiggled, and his jaw went slack. He was gone. Slowing down, I gently stopped rubbing his cock and began caressing his belly and thighs, and I leaned in for a kiss, which he willingly gave. “That was an orgasm. And now you know what your dick is for, Nick. You can do that as many times as you want, as often as you want, in as many ways as you want. You’ll discover more all the time. A man and his cock are best friends, and not a day goes by that I don’t do that, sometimes a few times a day. And, it always feels that good.” He looked at me with an amazed look on his face. Then he attacked my face again with his kisses. He was wild, passionate. I let him kiss me, and I kissed him back. He was hard again, and pressed up against me. I felt his hand on my dick, rubbing. His movements were unpracticed, and unfocused. I could hardly blame him, he had no idea what he was doing. After a while, I pulled back from our kiss for a moment. Placing my hand over his, I said, “Here, let me show you what feels good. Remember what I did to you? I used my whole hand to run up and down your cock. As I neared the top, I closed in my hand a bit, making it tighter. This is what feels natural to a dick.” He picked it up instantly, and it felt so good. His chubby little hand grazed along my cock, each stroke more confident and more fluid than the last. “That’s right. Keep doing that, and, as you feel me respond, go faster or tighter. Play with it. You’ll feel me react, or you’ll hear it in how my breathing changes, or maybe even if you make me moan.” And he did, he kept going, and varied the tempo. He was an intuitive boy, easily picking up on my body language. Finally, he brought me right to the edge, which, frankly surprised me, as he was just learning. “If you keep doing that, you’re going to make me come,” I said, my words coming out in bursts with my breath. He kept it up. “Oh, Damn, Nick! Yes! OH! I am gonna cum right now!” And as I shouted, the first rope of cum blasted from my cock and hit him in his chest, then another and then another, seven all told came flying out of my nuts and up my long dick and over our bodies. He seemed amazed at the process. I laid back in bed, my belly covered in cum, and Nick was tired, too. Jacking my long dick is a workout, for sure. For a moment we didn’t say anything. Then I looked over at Nick, and I smiled as he looked back at me. “Buddy, that was amazing. You made me feel very good.” “So, that is your sperm?” He was so cute and curious. “Yep, that’s it. Millions of `em. And no one to make a baby with.” He giggled. I reached down onto the floor and felt for my briefs. Bringing them up, I dragged them across my belly and my softening dick and then to his hand and forearm and chest. “A gentleman always cleans up his cum,” I said, passing on a life lesson. He looked serious, and I could tell he was filing it away. “So, why didn’t I make sperm?” He looked nervous. “It’s totally normal at ten, buddy. Do you see my balls? How they hang down from my sac? And look at yours, they are still up in your body. When you get older, they will drop, and that’s when you will begin making sperm. It’s just how our bodies work. You are right on track with your age.” I looked him in the eye, “And, you are a really wonderful lover. Attentive, Intuitive. Do you know what that means?” He shook his head no. “It means that you pay attention to the other person and how he is feeling, and you worked hard to make me feel good. That is very important in being with someone. Not everyone is like that. Because it feels so good when your cock cums, some people don’t think of anything else, but a good man thinks about the guy he is with to make sure he is enjoying it, too, that way, both people are happy.” He smiled, “I’m glad I made you feel good, because you did that to me, too.” I kissed him again. “Nick, you are really special to me, and this day has been so unexpected and so nice. I can’t believe how lucky I am!” “Ben, I didn’t know I could feel this way. It’s really good,” Nick was trying to articulate some big thoughts. “I do have one thing that I need to say, and I hope you’ll understand where I am coming from, Nick. Your mom and dad have told you about being with strangers and about people hurting you, right?” He nodded. “In the eyes of many people, your parents, definitely your teachers, the parents of your friends, what you and I did today would be seen as wrong. They would see the difference of our age, and they would think that I hurt you or that I forced you, and there is no amount of explaining that would change the fact that this was something we both wanted. I would get in big trouble – to be honest, I would go to jail and lose everything.” He looked at me with shock. “But I would tell them that you are nice, and that it felt good,” he defended. “Well, I know that’s what you think, and I know we made each other feel good today, and I hope that, if I am lucky, you’ll let me do it again and again with you. You are such a special guy. But no one can know about it – not your mom, not your friends, not your teachers. It has to stay between us.” “But why? Nothing bad happened.” “Because there are some very bad people in the world. Men who would take boys and hurt them, force them. Men who would not ask permission, but would have their way. What we did felt good, but there are ways to do it that are stronger, more violent, and some people do that. Those people are so bad that they have passed laws against what we do to prevent it. If you think about it, it makes sense, some men would not be as kind and nice as I have been. That’s why no one can know, or it would be the end of this, and certainly bad for me.” I tried to explain this as gently but as seriously as I could. “So, Nick, I want you to know that you have all the power here, you are in control. Right now, you’re literally in control of my life. If you said something, the police will take me away. But, I want you to know that you’ll always be in control – even with me, if you want to stop, we stop, but I am asking that you please keep this a secret. Can you do that for me, Nick?” “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” Nick vowed. “You are such a good boy. The best boy.” And I leaned into him and kissed him. He returned the kiss and sighed into my mouth. We held each other, and I started to get sleepy. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and get some water. And, this all started because you needed a phone cord, so, let’s get you charged.” I sat up, and Nick sat next to me. “Nick, would you like to sleep in my bed with me tonight?” He looked at me with big eyes. “Yes, I would!” I ruffled his hair. “Good!” I picked up my phone and there was no message from Susan responding to my message that Nick was staying the night. When Nick brought his phone in to charge, I asked him if his mom had messaged. “Nope,” he replied. I seethed a bit, wondering just what kind of a person would do that with a ten year-old. We brushed our teeth together, and washed our faces. I sent him back into bed while I took a much-needed piss, and then I joined him in bed. He looked so cute, so boyish, perched in my bed. He also looked like he understood that something was changing today, that he was doing something that was very adult, it wasn’t just a sleepover. Peeling back the covers, he clambered in, and I slid in next to him. Without any hesitance, our arms reached for each other, and we cuddled. Kissing, and holding. “What do you have to do tomorrow, Nick? Any chores or errands, or anything?” “Nope, nothing. I wasn’t supposed to leave my house, so I just have to keep things clean.” “Well, then, as you fall asleep I want you to think about what you’d like to do tomorrow. And in the morning, you can tell me. Nick, would you like to go on a date with me?” “Ben, I’d like that!” He said, excited. I kissed his lips and quickly the kiss became sensual and loving. Eventually, though, my tiredness won, and I pulled back just a bit. His eyes were closed, and I let mine flutter shut, too. Within moments we were both asleep.

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