Unwrapped

Author's note: This story includes explicit sexual content (right from the first sentence), involving descriptions of contact between an adult male and a boy below the age of consent, and between a girl of legal age and a boy below the age of consent. If you find this in any way offensive or distasteful, please read no further, and/or if it is illegal for you to read such material in your jurisdiction due to age or domicile, please read no further. The author does not condone or promote any illegal activity. This story is entirely a product of my imagination, no minors were involved in any way in its compilation, and the characters and actions portrayed are entirely fictitious. The characters in this story may not engage in safe sex, because, being fictitious, they don't need to. You, as a real person, do.

There might be those who would consider that I have plumbed new depths in this story, by involving 'my daughter' in my fantasy world. Except that 'Bonny' isn't my daughter, in any meaningful way, any more than 'Matt' is me. There are resonances between the fictional and real-world scenarios, most notably in the adult character being a divorced boylover living in London, but in terms of the real people in my life, any similarities are, as the saying goes, purely coincidental. 'Connor', on the other hand, is based on a real boy, who I used to see in my original 'London local' - yes, he was very cute, and did have a horrible, nagging mother - but a boy I haven't seen since he was around 12, so the 13/14 year old character in this story is very much a fictional extrapolation. As ever, if my subject matter offends you, don't read it. If you choose to read, that's your decision.

SB

****

The teenage boy groaned in ecstasy as the two tongues lapped greedily at the swollen, exposed glans of his slender, pubescent penis, never this insanely hard before, five and a half inches, almost stretching to six as he writhed in the throes of what was by far the most erotic experience of his young life. Just when he thought, in so far as he could think at all at that moment, the feelings coursing through his body couldn't possibly be any better, one of the tongues began dabbing at the natural lubrication freely leaking from the slit at the apex of his erection, while the other began to gently tease his smooth, hairless scrotum. It was simply too much for the boy to contend with, his body shuddering completely out of control.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna....!" he managed to gasp out before dissolving into almost sobbing whimpers as an orgasm, of an intensity beyond anything he could ever have imagined possible, seized his very being. The man's lips clamped firmly over the top three inches of the boy's spasming organ, his tongue busy as the first of five jets of sweet, immature semen burst into his hungry mouth. Meanwhile, the girl lapped at the underside of the now contracted fleshy sack, and lower down, onto the sensitive perineum. After long seconds when the whole world seemed to have focused exclusively on his hyper-stimulated genitalia, the boy slowly began to return to earth, and his two lovers instinctively slowed their oral caresses to a standstill before withdrawing completely, neither wanting over-sensitivity to spoil the moment for the lovely youngster. There was a moment of almost complete stillness and silence, before the boy let out a huge, unconscious sigh, then broke into a massive grin.

"Enjoy that?" the man asked, rather superfluously.

The youngster began to giggle uncontrollably. After maybe thirty seconds, he managed to bring himself back to a point where he could once more speak.

"It was....totally, utterly, fucking awesome!"

"For me, too," the man enthused. "I've wanted to do that for someone like you since I was your age, even younger, but I've never had the chance before. And it was, like you said, fucking awesome! I loved it! Thank you so much!" The boy's smile, almost impossibly, seemed to grow even wider.

"Ready for some more, then?" the girl said, smirking mischievously in the youngster's direction. "Wanna....do it with me?" The boy's expression instantly looked almost cartoonishly wide-eyed and disbelieving.

"W....what - in....inside you, you mean?" The girl nodded dreamily, licking her lips instinctively. The boy's penis, which had softened somewhat in the aftermath of his monster climax, sprang back to full, diamond hard erection in what seemed like no more than three heartbeats.

"Oh, yeah!" he breathed, almost rendered speechless by his excited anticipation.

How had my daughter and I got to this amazing point, in bed with this wonderful boy? It was a long, long story, certainly from my perspective.

****

"Hello-o-o-o! Earth to Dad!"

I started, as though I'd had a pin stuck into me. Bonny, my 16 year old daughter, grinned knowingly across the table at me.

"S....sorry. I was miles away. What were you saying?"

"Yeah, I could see where you were!" Her voice dropped to a barely discernible murmur. "You like him, don't you?" I smiled sheepishly, and shrugged a little - Bonny was one of a very small handful of people who knew that not only was I gay, the ostensible reason my marriage had broken up, but that I had never been attracted to a man in my life. I was, in short, a boylover, something my daughter had known since she was 12 - she undoubtedly knew the answer to her question before it was even asked.

"Mmmm, me too," she whispered, almost to herself. "He's cute!"

'He' was Connor, a boy of around 14 who I'd seen regularly since I'd moved to West London three years earlier in the wake of my divorce, and adopted the pub we were in as my 'local' - it was his mother's local, too, and they often seemed to be in there in the late afternoon, especially on schooldays, for some reason. I'd never spoken to the boy, but I'd watched him grow from a pretty little thing in his last year at primary school into the handsome youth, well into puberty, that he now was. I'd also noticed that his mother seemed to spend most of her time moaning at him, despite his outward impression of being a quiet, well-behaved and studious boy - I'd seen him doing his homework in the pub on numerous occasions, while his mother talked to whichever of her friends she happened to be with - and as though on cue, she began to berate him again, this time about his not, apparently, being 'sociable' enough for her liking, the fact that it was lunchtime on Christmas Day, and that he was the only young person in a largish party of adults seemingly not being sufficient reason for her to allow him any leeway.

"Poor guy," Bonny muttered, "is she always like that with him?"

"Pretty much, when she bothers to talk to him at all. I feel like telling her what I think of her sometimes, but, at the end of the day, it's none of my business. Talking of business, I need to go and let some of this second-hand beer out! Make room for some more, you know!"

Bonny rolled her eyes comically as I rose from the table and headed for the stairs leading to the toilets. As I turned the corner to the bottom of the second flight, I noticed Connor halfway up the first, evidently heading in the same direction as me. He looked downcast, as well he might, given the upbraiding that had just been inflicted on him. Not for the first time, my heart went out to him. No youngster should be treated like that on Christmas Day, even if they had been less than perfectly behaved, which, as far as I'd been able to see from a few tables away, didn't apply to Connor anyway. The toilet was empty when I entered, and I headed for the urinal furthest to the left. Connor's footsteps sounded behind me, and I expected him, as boys - and, increasingly, adults too - usually do these days, to head for one of the stalls, but he proved me wrong by making for the rightmost urinal, set slightly lower than the others, with boys, presumably, in mind, although he was certainly tall enough, at five feet five or six, to have used any of the others. I wasn't nearly so stupid as to try to 'peek', even if I could've seen much at the distance, but the thought of what might be behind the zip he'd audibly undone sent a shiver down my spine. Bonny might have known that I was a boylover for four years, but I'd known for more like forty, since I was a boy myself, right back to the day, on a school cricket ground on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the early seventies when I spent the whole match entranced by the opposition's wicket keeper, a beautiful blond boy of 12, my own age at the time. I didn't, of course, realise the full implications at once, or even most of them, but, just a few weeks later, there was a far ruder awakening. I was 'caught looking' in the school toilets by one of my classmates, who launched some very harsh words in my direction, words I'd heard bandied around as insults, but without any real appreciation of their meaning, and certainly without any thought that they could be applied to me. Until that moment. And he'd obviously shared news of the incident with others, too, because, for several days, the words 'pouf' and 'queer' seemed to dog my every step during school hours. There was no physical bullying, because I was one of the biggest in my class, indeed, my year, but, although the incident was gradually supplanted in the 'gossip stakes' by newer scandals, it left two almost indelible marks in my psyche. Firstly, the determination never to let my guard down and be caught again, but secondly, and far more troubling to me, the knowledge that they, the name callers, were right. I was 'queer', I did like boys, far, far more than the girls my contemporaries seemed to be obsessed with. And it got worse as I got older, too, because, by the time I was 16 or 17, going into the sixth form, I was all too painfully aware that my attractions weren't 'aging' with me, and that it was still the 12, 13, 14 year olds who filled my dreams and fantasies. The word 'paedophile', while not new, was just beginning to appear regularly, especially in the tabloid press, with, of course, totally negative connotations. Society's hatred, cemented by more directly personal issues, such as my falling rather pathetically and completely unrequitably for a third year boy, and being found out by him, too, drove me ever deeper 'into the closet', until, some ten or twelve very solitary years later, I met and fell in love with, or, at least, convinced myself that I had, a woman who would, just into the 1990s, become my wife and, a couple of years before the much-hyped millennium, the mother of my daughter. I'd managed to suppress 'the real me' for some twenty years, albeit with some near misses in terms of almost 'outing' myself, but it was always there, an accident waiting to happen. And happen it did, as, at 48, I fell in love once more, albeit completely one-sidedly. With an 11 year old, easily the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen, who lived near a new workplace I'd moved to in the late 'noughties', and who I became utterly obsessed with, almost Death in Venice style, despite never speaking to him in almost four years of exquisitely bittersweet, self-inflicted torture. I didn't, unlike von Aschenbach, lose my life, but I lost pretty much everything else - my marriage was probably heading for the rocks in any case, because there were money as well as relationship problems, and the confluence of the two, after I'd gone back to a substantially better paid job in London, as a 'last resort' attempt to resurrect our finances, eventually 'broke the camel's back', as my wife asked me a specific, closed question during a particularly fraught telephone call, leaving me with the choice of admitting I was gay or blatantly lying to her. I chose truth, and the marriage was effectively over, there and then. I still didn't know whether she was aware that I was attracted to boys rather than men, and I saw nothing to be gained by raising the subject if she didn't, when everything had gone already. And boys like Connor, more, far more than children, but still some way short of even young manhood, were exactly what I desired the most. I finished relieving myself, and turned to the washbasins nearest to 'my' side of the toilet to rinse my hands. Connor had also finished, and, surprising me again, he walked to the sink next to mine. I glanced his way, to find him looking at me, still with that heartrending look of hurt on his young face. I really hadn't intended to speak, but seeing him so down on what should have been a festive day broke through my reserve.

"Mum on your case again?" I asked him gently. He nodded, slightly, slowly. "You'd think she'd give it a rest on Christmas Day."

The change in his demeanour was both immediate and startling.

"You must be fu....bloody joking!" the boy spat out vehemently. "It's all day, every sodding day! I'm bloody sick of it!" He seemed to suddenly realise what he'd said, and to a stranger, at that. His face fell once more, and he looked away, looked down at his shoes. "S....sorry," he whispered, "it's not your fault, I didn't mean to shout at you."

I'd dried my hands by that point, and laid one of them gently on his shoulder. He flinched a little at the unexpected contact, but didn't pull away.

"There's no need to apologise. I'm not going to say I understand, because I don't, nothing like that ever happened to me when I was younger, but I can see why it would grind you down - it makes me sick to see it, and I don't know either of you, except by sight."

"Yeah, I mean....I've seen you in here a lot, I've even seen you glaring at Mum, although she's never seemed to notice. She's half-pissed most of the time, anyway. Look, I'd better get back, don't want to give her the excuse to start again." He hesitated just a moment longer, and looked up at me once more. "T....thanks - for not being angry with me."

"It's all good....Connor." The boy looked surprised, just for a second, to hear me use his name, but seemed to quickly realise that I must have heard his mum using it a thousand times. "See you around." The youngster flashed me a quick, if rather wan, little smile, offering a glimpse of some very straight and white teeth, before disappearing through the door and back towards the bar. I stayed for a minute or two more, combing my hair and gathering my thoughts, then headed to rejoin Bonny.

"Blimey, I was just going to send out a search party! What were you doing, or shouldn't I ask!"

"I was talking to Connor, just for a minute. He really gets it in the neck from his mother, apparently, she's on at him 'all day, every sodding day', as he put it." We both looked in his direction, but he was deep in conversation with an older woman who I didn't recognise as one of his mother's regular 'pub buddies', maybe an aunt, or something, trying his best to be 'sociable'. 'See you around', I'd said, and he'd smiled. Nothing in it, I told myself, don't even think about it. But I couldn't help but hope.

****

Bonny was staying with me until after New Year, before heading back to her mother's prior to the new school term. She'd made no secret of the fact that she wanted to live with me, but it really wasn't practicable at that time - she was in her GCSE exam year at school, and I only had a one bedroom flat in any case - Bonny was using my room that week, while I was sleeping on the sofa - a flat I could barely afford as it was, let alone the several hundred pounds a month extra it would've cost me to rent anything more spacious in the area where I was living. My daughter was nothing if not a typical teenager, and, on Boxing Day morning, 10:00 had come and gone with no sign of her getting out of bed. It was a dry day, if cool, so I decided to get ready and go out for a morning walk while Bonny had her sleep out. I wandered down to the river, walked along its southern bank for a mile or so, before turning back 'inland' to complete the circle back to the flat. In just over an hour, I was almost back at my front door, when a boy on a bike approached. Within seconds, it was obvious who the boy was.

"Hi, Connor. New bike for Christmas?"

"Nah, my dad bought me this last year. It's still fine, though. You live round here?"

"Yeah, just a bit further down. The three storey white painted block, you know where I mean?"

"Yeah, one of my mum's mates lives in the block next door." His face clouded a little at the mention of his mother, I noticed.

"Out for a bit of peace and quiet, eh?"

He shrugged. "S'pose so," he said quietly.

"I'm the other way around, I've come out so I don't make too much noise and wake Sleeping Beauty!"

"That girl you were with yesterday?"

"Yeah, my daughter. She's staying with me for Christmas and New Year - she lives with her mum, usually."

"Poor her!"

"Well, I think Bonny's a bit better off than you - if her mum has a go at her, she just has a go back! Not one to take any crap, my girl - not her father's daughter for nothing!"

The boy sighed, visibly. "I tried that, but it made things worse. I just stay out of her way as much as I can, in my room, or going out." The boy suddenly looked me in the eye. "What's your name? You know mine, and I know your daughter's, but not yours."

"I'm Matthew, but only my mum has ever called me that! Matt to you!" I held my hand out to him, and we shook. His handshake was notably firm for a boy of his age.

"Hello Matt! Now we're even!"

"Sure are! Look, I'm going to go indoors - it's not exactly tropical out here, and I want to see if Bonny has surfaced yet. You're welcome to come in for a coffee, or whatever, if you like, unless you've got somewhere you need to be." The boy hesitated, and I had little or no doubt why. "Yeah, I know, 'stranger danger'. Don't forget Bonny's there, though - even if I wanted to....hurt you, and I can assure you I don't, I'd hardly do it with her watching, would I?" The boy smiled, a little crookedly. "I'll be upfront with you, though - I am gay, that's why I got divorced, when my ex found out. If that's a problem for you, I'll understand, and I won't bother you again."

Connor's expression changed to one of perplexity. "What's up? I asked.

"I....I'm not fussed about you being gay, but....but Bonny? How....how did that happen?"

"It's not that complicated, really. From when I was your age, or thereabouts, I knew I was gay, but I didn't want to be. So I kind of tried to pretend I wasn't, and eventually ended up getting married. Quite a lot of gay people do, men and women, even these days, when being gay isn't so much of a big deal as it used to be, because that's what the world, their families expect. And Bonny happened the way all babies do, male and female getting together. I guess I'm bisexual, really, at least to a degree, I think most people are - not many are 100% straight or 100% gay, in my opinion, even if they might say they are. But I still shouldn't have got married, even though I'm glad Bonny came along - she's probably my best friend, as well as my daughter - it wasn't fair on anyone, really, including me, because I could never be myself." We'd been walking slowly towards my flat for a minute or two, Connor wheeling his bike alongside me. We arrived at the entrance to the block.

"So, you fancy a brew - even Bonny should be up by now, and she'll probably be ready for some breakfast - or a cold drink, if you prefer, I've got Diet Coke in the fridge. If you don't, there's no hard feelings, I can assure you."

The boy smiled and nodded. "Thanks, yeah, that'll be good. What about my bike, though?"

"We'll take it up with us - my flat is on the middle floor, it's only two flights of stairs. I'll give you a hand, if you like."

A minute or two later, I was unlocking the door to my flat, and parking Connor's bike in the hallway. Bonny came out of the front room, fresh from the shower, in her daytime clothes, but with a towel still wrapped around her damp hair.

"Hi, Dad - oh, found a friend, I see!" My daughter grinned at Connor, and he smiled shyly in return.

"Yeah, I bumped into Connor just outside. Connor, this is my daughter, Bonny. Bonny, Connor."

The teens bumped fists, and Bonny smiled again. "Good to meet you, Connor. Belated Merry Christmas!"

The boy blushed a little, not used to much social interaction with girls at his age, I guessed. "N....nice to meet you, too, Bonny. You....you like it around here?"

"Yeah, I'd really like to live in London, but Dad and I haven't been able to work it out yet. Maybe after I've done my GCSEs next summer - I hope so, anyway." My girl turned to me, with a meaningful look on her face.

"Yeah, I hope so too," I said, with complete sincerity. "Had any breakfast yet, Babes?"

"Nah, I've only been up long enough to have a shower. Why, are you offering?"

"Why don't you just say 'Get thee to the kitchen, scullion' and have done with it!" Bonny smirked. "What do you fancy?"

"Just tea and toast, please."

"Will do. Would you like some toast, Connor, and a drink of some sort?"

"If....if you don't mind, please. Could I have coffee, please, not too strong, two sugars?"

"No problem. I'll call you when it's ready."

We sat at the small table in the kitchen and chatted while the youngsters demolished eight rounds of toast between them, before taking our drinks into the living room. Despite the two years and a few months between their ages - my daughter had turned 16 the previous month, while Connor was actually 13, but only six weeks or so short of his fourteenth birthday - the teens seemed to have many interests in common, particularly in terms of TV series and, unsurprisingly, cyberspace, Bonny never having been an overly 'girly' girl, even if she wasn't exactly an outright tomboy, and were soon getting on like the proverbial 'house on fire'. I wasn't left out, either, my wide and poorly disguised streak of boyishness coming to the fore, not for the first time. Before we knew it, the time had ticked around to 1:00, and Connor made his excuses.

"I need to go soon, my dad is picking me up in an hour. I'll be having another Christmas dinner this afternoon!"

I laughed. "Enjoy! I think B and I are off out for a while, see the world, and all that. I just love having public transport on Boxing Day! Mind you, it's not all playtime this week - I've got to go to work tomorrow for an early shift, worse luck. Still, it's only for the one day - after that it's my long weekend off, and I don't have to work on New Years Day, so I'll be off again until January 2, when Bonny has to go back. Give me your mugs, and I'll get the washing up done."

Ten minutes later, I carried Connor's bike back down to street level.

"Thanks, Matt, it's been fun!"

"For all of us, I reckon - I'm pleased you and Bonny hit it off." The boy flushed, and looked at his shoelaces.

"Y....yeah, she's....really nice."

For a moment, I felt an overwhelming temptation to tease him, talk about a 'crush', but he looked so embarrassed already that I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"You're right, she really is, and I love her to bits. Well, she's here for another week, nearly, you're welcome to come round any time and see her - and me, I hope!" We'd exchanged mobile numbers in the previous few minutes. "Just text one of us, make sure we're going to be in."

For some reason I couldn't fathom, the boy's face reddened still further, and, when he tried to speak, his words seemed to trip over each other.

"O....OK, th....thanks, th....that'll be g....great."

The boy straddled his bike, and prepared to go on his way.

"See you later, Connor. Enjoy the rest of your day!"

Connor had seemed to recover his self-possession a little. "Thanks, Matt. See ya soon!"

As the boy's dark hair disappeared into the distance, I couldn't suppress a shiver down my spine. Soon. Yeah, I really hope so.

****

Bonny and I had meandered on various buses on the Thursday afternoon, before having our evening meal in another pub in the same chain as my local, near to where I worked. We'd chatted, as we usually did, about anything and everything that came to mind, but when I mentioned Connor, Bonny seemed to want to quickly change the subject, albeit while trying to be subtle about that change. Maybe the 'crush' wasn't all one way, I mused, although, given their respective ages, I didn't think it all that likely - in adulthood, a couple of years hardly mattered, but at 16 and 14, especially when the girl is the older, those years could be an almost insurmountable barrier. Apart from that, Bonny had, hitherto, looked to those a little older than herself by way of boyfriends - her most recent 'ex', back at home, had been almost 18, in the midst of the the run-up to his A-Levels. Conversation soon moved elsewhere, and I thought no more of it, We were back at the flat by mid-evening, and I was asleep fairly early, given that I had to be up at 5:00 in the morning for work. Bonny had retired to her room, and, if I knew my girl, a long internet session, so I had no expectation that she'd do anything much more than sleep while I was at work. And, indeed, as I unlocked the front door at just after 2:00 on the Friday afternoon, Bonny appeared from the bedroom, still in her pyjamas. After hastily turning back to the bedroom door and pulling it closed, she came up to me for a hug. I could smell shampoo and soap, so she'd obviously been up long enough to have showered.

"Hi Dad! Good day at work?"

"If you like that sort of thing! Yeah, it was OK, pretty quiet, really. You been up long?"

There was a discernible hesitation before she answered. "N....no, not....really. Couple of hours." Another evident hiatus. "Dad....come into the front room, I want to....tell you something."

I looked at my daughter, more than a little confused. Not because she wanted to talk to me, we'd been doing that, in spades, ever since she'd learned to talk, but because of her very obvious nervousness. Bonny was, and always had been, since very early childhood, a self-confident and outgoing individual, so to see her so atypically uncertain was, frankly, worrying. What could have happened since the previous evening to so throw her off balance? She led the way into the living room, and I followed, sitting myself in the armchair while Bonny made her way to the sofa. Once more, and most unlike my girl, she seemed reluctant to speak, and, I know not how, I got the impression that she was expecting her words to upset or anger me. Bonny made a visible effort to gather herself, before finally committing.

"D....dad? You....you know you asked me....not to say....any....anything about you....liking....boys?"

I felt an immediate premonition of disaster, but, with a great deal of difficulty, I forced myself to remain as calm as I could, although I'm sure a heart monitor would have easily registered my reaction - my heart rate had seemed to double in an instant. I simply nodded, and Bonny continued.

"Well, I....I'm really....sorry, but I did....mention it to....some....someone." My mind immediately spun into a whirlpool of possible scenarios and consequences. Within seconds, the few seconds that Bonny paused before speaking again, I convinced myself that I knew what must have happened - she'd rung her mother after I'd gone to sleep the previous evening, had a row with the woman, and blurted something out. Knowing my ex as I did, I had no doubt that she'd do everything in her power to try to stop me seeing our daughter. My stomach felt like it had dropped to my feet. I simply couldn't speak - my relationship with Bonny was the only thing that made my life worth living, and now I was going to lose her, as well as everything else that had gone in recent years. I was just about to tip over a precipice of despair when Bonny spoke once more, dragging my attention back to the immediate present.

"He....he doesn't mind, though, I think he'd....kind of....guessed. And he won't....say anything, he....he promised."

The pronoun didn't register for a second or two, but when it did, my consciousness did an almost pantomimic double take. He? He?

I had to ask. "Who, Babes?"

The girl looked at me for a second, before looking away again, in....shame? Embarrassment? Fear?

"C....Connor," she whispered.

As though the mention of his name had been some kind of summoning spell, the boy himself appeared in the living room doorway, smiling shyly.

"Bonny's right, Matt, I don't mind, really. She said you....like me, and it's cool, I mean it. I....I kind of....like you, too, you....you're really....nice. And I really like Bonny, too." Connor entered the room, and went to sit beside my daughter. She put an arm around his shoulder, drawing him close. I could hardly believe my eyes, or ears. Seemingly reassured that I wasn't going to explode at her, Bonny relaxed visibly, and her usual volubility rapidly returned.

"We talked on Skype for hours last night, Dad, while Connor was at his dad's place, after you'd gone to sleep. Like Connor said, he likes me, and I like him loads, too, but we know we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend, because of me being so far away, still living at home, and stuff. It wouldn't be fair on either of us. We...." The girl broke off abruptly, and drew an almost melodramatically deep breath. "We....talked about something else, too, when Connor came round this morning. We....we....kind of....want to give you a late....Christmas present. One we think you'll....really like."

Connor stood and walked slowly across the room to where I was sitting. He reached out and gently took my hands in his.

"Bonny said....you've liked boys ever since you were my age, but you've never done....stuff with a boy." My heart lurched, gripped by anticipation and trepidation in almost equal parts. "Matt....I want to do stuff with....with you, and with Bonny, too, if....if you want to." I opened my mouth to speak, to say it was impossible, but the boy seemed to know what I was going to say, and continued without missing a beat. "Don't say we can't, Matt - I'm not some little boy that you're going to molest, I know what I want, and I understand what it means. And I promise, 100%, that I'll never, ever tell and get you into trouble. Only you, me and Bonny will ever know."

"Are....are you sure, Connor? Really sure? Because, if....if anything....is done, it's forever, it can't be undone, as long as we live." I turned to my daughter. "And you, too, Bonny. You know, don't you, like I said to Connor, that what happens, if anything happens, will be for always? Because I couldn't bear to lose you, your love and friendship, whether it be tomorrow, or in fifty years time, if I'm still around."

The boy and girl looked at each other for long seconds, before coming, evidently, to an unspoken agreement. Connor, still holding my hands, turned back to me, his gaze meeting mine, levelly.

"We want to, Matt, really, really want to, I promise." The boy's eyes suddenly seemed to sparkle, and his expression changed to a wicked grin. He tugged at my hands, insistently. "Come on, Matt! Come and unwrap your Christmas present!"

****

Undressing Connor had been breathlessly exciting for me. His body was by no means that of an athlete, but it was verging on being indescribably beautiful and desirable to my eyes. The boy wasn't slender, instead being sturdily built, perhaps five pounds or so heavier than what might have been seen as ideal for his age and height, but he certainly wasn't what anyone could call fat. He was hairless, apart from a moderate dusting of pubic hair above his penis, but the fact that he was dark haired and pale skinned probably gave the impression of even that area being more hirsute than it actually was. Even before I'd removed his underwear to complete the unveiling of his charms, it was obvious that he was very aroused, and that arousal drew my eyes like a magnet. His penis, when it finally came into view, was around halfway between horizontal and vertical with respect to his torso, and was pulsing visibly. I managed to drag my rapt attention away, as I sat on the edge of the bed, and looked up into the depths of his dark brown eyes.

"Can....can I touch you, Connor, please?" I breathed.

He bit his lower lip for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yeah....yeah, course. I want you to."

I reached out slowly, almost hesitantly. After what seemed like forever, there it was - first contact, not only with his delicious form, but with that of any boy. Forty years, and more, of hoping, wishing, wanting, focused to a single point in that moment. I held his erection between my thumb and one finger, then delicately squeezed the rigid tube of flesh, feeling a distinct answering pulse from Connor's body, before slowly and gently starting to stroke, up then down, up and down. As I lengthened my strokes slightly, his foreskin pulled back almost clear of the purplish glans, and he gasped. I let go instantly, afraid that I'd caused him pain - I had no experience whatsoever with an uncut penis, having been circumcised as a baby myself. Connor seemed to guess what my problem was immediately.

"Don't stop, Matt, you're not hurting me. It feels really nice!"

I looked up at him again. "Are you sure, Connor? I mean....if I do anything, anything at all, you don't like, will you tell me, straight away, please?"

The boy returned my gaze, smiling and nodding, before sighing as I took him in hand once more, this time running the tips of my fingers along the underside of his shaft and down onto the silky smooth skin of his scrotum, the testes, the size and shape of large grapes, drawing up into his body slightly at my touch, then lower still, tracing the seam of his perineum, before making the return journey, right to the tip of his visibly throbbing penis. I was suddenly seized with an overwhelming desire to taste him, smell him, and, to that end, gently manoeuvred him onto the bed, onto his back, kneeling alongside him. I'd read online stories a-plenty referring to the intoxicating scent of a boy, but the reality, as I approached his body, eclipsed even the most purple of prose - I'd simply never experienced anything like it in my life. His aroma, as my lips made contact with his soft, so soft pubic hairs, completely took me over, took me to erogenous heights I couldn't even have imagined, still less reached. I kissed around the base of his penis, little gentle pecks, before allowing the tip of my tongue to escape my lips and begin its ascent of his tumescence. Connor moaned softly, his hips lifting slightly from the bed as though trying to intensify the contact.

As focused on Connor and his beauty as I'd been, I'd almost forgotten Bonny's presence in the bedroom. Until I felt the mattress beneath my knees sag under the weight of another body on the bed. I glanced up - and my heart seemed to almost stop. Bonny, of course, but Bonny - naked, kneeling on the opposite side of Connor's body. I hadn't seen her in that state since she was a young girl, maybe 9 or 10, the age at which her 'body consciousness' had developed to the point to compel her to close bathroom and bedroom doors, her mother and I, of course, respecting her desire for privacy. It was odd, but a small, somehow detached, corner of my brain assessed the situation, deciding within a matter of seconds that while Bonny's body was aesthetically attractive, with her smallish breasts and narrow, but unmistakably womanly hips, it wasn't, to me, in any way desirable, not just because of the fact that she was my daughter, the 'incest taboo', but in a generic sense, Connor's nascent masculinity being vastly more exciting as far as I was concerned.

"Don't be greedy, Dad," Bonny said archly. "Good boys share their Christmas presents!"

Without further ado, the girl leaned forward, so close to me that I could feel her hair brush against my forehead, parted her lips, and began caressing Connor with her small, pink tongue. The teenage boy groaned in ecstasy....

****

Still kneeling, as I was, at Connor's side, I could feel his body trembling, excitement no doubt mingling with some nervousness as he contemplated losing his virginity. He looked my way, a little uncertainly. I smiled, encouragingly, I hoped.

"If you guys are going to....make love, I'll leave you in private," I said, sliding back to the edge of the bed and getting to my feet.

"No, no way, Dad!" Bonny exclaimed. "I know you've always wanted to....watch a boy and girl....together. I've read your blog, don't forget! Stay, please, we both want you to! It's part of your present!"

She was right, of course, the idea of watching a pubescent couple, either two boys or boy and girl, being one of my most potent fantasies, so now it was my turn to be rendered speechless by my excitement. I glanced, questioningly, towards Connor, and he nodded slightly.

"Yeah, please stay, Matt, it'll be....really....hot!"

"Oh, and by the way, Dad - get 'em off! You don't get to be the only one with clothes around here!" She turned to Connor. "Move over a little bit, and let me lay down. I'll show you what to do!"

While the teens adjusted their positions, I quickly undressed. Both youngsters turned to watch as I shed my underwear, my last garment. I wasn't any sort of Adonis, being rather overweight and no more than barely average in endowment, certainly lengthwise, although my erection was, perhaps, a little thicker than most, especially now, apropos of what was undoubtedly the most sexually exciting experience of my whole life - I could never remember being so hard. Connor, in particular, seemed impressed.

"Wow, Matt, that's massive! I hope mine gets as big as that!"

I shook my head. "I'm just average - you're nearly as big, or as long, anyway, as me already, you'll end up bigger, I'll bet! Anyway, size isn't that important, what matters is looking after your partner, trying to give them as much pleasure as you can. And if they do the same for you, then sex can be amazing, no matter how big or small you are."

Connor grinned. "Well, you and Bonny certainly looked after me before - I've never, ever felt as good as that!"

Bonny reached over and tweaked Connor's erection playfully. The boy gasped his surprise. "Come on, lover boy! It's your turn to make me feel good now! I'll show you how, like I said!"

For the next ten or fifteen minutes, Bonny gave the boy a 'hands-on' - and 'lips-and-tongue-on' - tutorial in pleasing a female partner, how and where to touch, caress, lick, kiss for maximum effect. And he was a quick study, it seemed, because the girl was soon panting and heaving beneath him, evidently getting close to orgasm.

"Oh Connor, it's time, baby, I want you inside me, right now!"

The boy suddenly looked very hesitant, almost scared. "W....what about....if....if I get you....p....pregnant, though?"

"You won't. sweetie, I promise - I'm on the pill, have been for about two years."

Connor glanced at me, as though looking for confirmation. "Don't worry, Bonny's telling you the truth. I'm so impressed at how sensible you are to think about it, though, especially when you're so excited."

Bonny laid back and opened her arms in silent invitation, before reaching out, putting her hands on his hips, and guiding him into position. She took the base of his penis between two of her fingers, brought him to her vaginal lips, glistening with the evidence of her own arousal.

"Push, baby, push in!"

It had been many years earlier, even if I'd been quite a bit older than Connor was now, when I'd lost my own virginity, but the look on the boy's face at that first moment of penetration brought it all back to me in an instant. The excitement, the wonderment, the near disbelief that it was really happening to him, and then, as his whole length entered the girl to be enveloped by her warmth and wetness, the exquisite pleasure of two becoming one. His whole body seemed to tremble.

"Oh Bonny, oh shit, I....I didn't know....it would feel so...." His voice faltered, words seeming to fail him.

"Ssshhh, baby. Just enjoy. Keep still for a minute, we don't want you to cum straight away." The boy did as he'd been bidden, but I could see the muscles in his buttocks and upper thighs clenching slightly, as though the instinctual movements of coitus were being played out in miniature. The primal urge to mate finally took him over completely, his hips beginning to undulate rhythmically.

"Slowly, Connor, go slowly at first," Bonny murmured, "that way you won't slip out of me, and it'll last longer, too." The boy, after a few moments, settled to a steady pace, thrusting around once a second. Now it was Bonny's turn to moan with pleasure. "Oh, baby, you feel so good! Keep doing it like that, please!"

I watched, enraptured, as the kind of scene I'd read stories about, fantasised about, for so many years was enacted in front of my hungry eyes. Best of all, for me, was watching Connor's lovely face reflecting the emotions he was experiencing, the delights his young body was feeling. His eyes were almost closed, his mouth smiling blissfully, his cheeks flushing with colour as my daughter helped guide him on his journey to manhood. Inevitably, it wasn't long before he could hold back no longer, the urgency of his movements increasing rapidly, his breathing quickening to gulps and pants.

"Ooohhhh, Bonny, ooohhhh, I'm gonna....I'm gonna....cum, I can't stop!"

The girl wrapped her legs around Connor's waist, her own hips moving as vigorously as the boy's.

"Yeah, do it, baby, fuck me! Fuck me as hard as you can!"

Connor went wild, all conscious control lost as he began to pump at top speed. Within seconds, a deep groan escaped the boy's lips, before he almost squealed as his climax hit him. Bonny was right there with him, her own orgasm reducing her to incoherent moans. And, unbelievably, so was I - for the first, last, only time in my life, I had a 'hands-free' orgasm as the sights, sounds and smells of the youngsters' rapture washed over me, my semen hitting the carpet in front of me with a discernible 'plop'. As I came back to earth, I became aware that Connor had tears streaming down his face, his emotions overwhelming him completely, Bonny cooing quietly into his ear.

"Ssshhh, baby, don't cry. You were fantastic, that was the best sex I've ever had, really, really! Stay in me, don't go, I like it in me afterwards," she added, her hands on Connor's buttocks, holding him in place as the boy tried, instinctively, to withdraw. The boy began to calm down, Bonny gently wiping his tears away with the balls of her thumbs before kissing him tenderly.

"Oh, Bonny....that was....was....I don't even know how to say it!" The girl smiled, knowingly, and kissed him again. "Thank you, thank you so much, for....for teaching me, showing me." Connor's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "I....I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetie, I mean it. Don't forget what we agreed, though, we can't be....together, can't be....a couple, not while I'm still living at home, anyway. You know it would never work."

Connor sighed deeply. "I know, but....I....I'll never forget today, as long as I live!"

"Me neither, baby. And we're not through yet! You're still hard. Let's do it again!"

And they did, twice more, actually, before Connor finally softened to the degree that he couldn't maintain penetration, both youngsters insisting that I stay with them throughout. I even got involved, just a little, the last time, at Connor's invitation, gently touching his buttocks, perineum and anus as he knelt between my daughter's legs, moving smoothly and slowly back and forth, luxuriating in his own delight, and the girl's. He turned his face towards me, and, without hesitation, kissed me briefly, before reaching out and taking my penis in his hand. I came almost instantly, something that hadn't happened to me since I was little older than Connor was then.

"Shit, that was so hot, Matt! Feeling your....dick, jerking while I held it! Was it good?"

"It was....was....something I've wanted for forty years, sweet boy. It wasn't good, it was way beyond wonderful!"

The boy grinned as broadly as he had at any time that afternoon, before playfully wiping his spermy hand on my stomach and returning his attention to the girl beneath him, and their rising pleasure.

I don't think any of us wanted our time together to end, but it was already dark outside, and I didn't want Connor to be away from home for so long that his mother might start asking awkward questions, something the boy understood perfectly. I insisted that he showered, too, before he left, Bonny joining him in the bathroom, so that no telltale odours might point towards how he'd spent his afternoon. He quickly blow dried his hair, before the two youngsters kissed goodbye passionately in the hallway of the flat. Connor grabbed my hand, too, and pulled me towards him, wrapping me up in a warm hug. In spite of the four climaxes he'd enjoyed in the previous couple of hours, I could feel, as our bodies touched, that he was fully aroused once more.

"Ready to go again, sweet boy?!"

Connor beamed fit to bust, even as he blushed a little. "You bet! Can I come round again tomorrow?!"

"What do you reckon, Bonny?" I asked archly.

"I'd be gutted if you didn't, sweetie," she breathed, smiling into the boy's eyes.

****

Connor, indeed, visited us every day for the remainder of Bonny's stay, apart from New Year's Day itself, when he was with his father. And, needless to say, much of that time was spent in the bedroom, but not, after that first occasion, with me present. The youngsters would have been quite happy for me to have been there, but, after thanking them both profusely for giving me the ultimate thrill of my life, I made it clear that what happened between them thereafter was entirely their business. Bonny was, after all, my daughter, and even though I hadn't touched her, even accidentally, on that amazing afternoon, the thought of anything happening that could affect our relationship, rather than any qualms about incest as such, compelled me to respect their privacy. His last time with Bonny, early on the morning of January 2, was, predictably, very emotional for both of them. They made love briefly, before returning to the living room and spending almost an hour wrapped in each others' arms, in tears, for the most part. My own eyes were damp, too, seeing how close they'd become, and also knowing that I wouldn't see Bonny again myself for, in all probability, the best part of three or four months, Easter being late that year. Finally, it really was time for Bonny to go and catch her train home, Connor and I walking to the tube station with her, another round of fond farewells in the booking hall ensuing. As the girl made her way through the ticket barriers and disappeared upstairs to the platform, Connor wept again. All I could do was to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"She'll be back, sweet boy. I'm going to miss her just as much, for different reasons, of course."

Connor pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped his eyes. He smiled up at me, wanly. "Yeah, I know, Matt. Can I still come and see you, though?"

"Course you can, I love spending time with you! I hope we can be friends for a long time, as long as it suits you, anyway."

The boy's full-on smile, the one that, to my eyes, made him one of the most beautiful people I'd ever met, was my reward.

****

Working shifts, including at weekends, as I did, it wasn't practicable for me to get together with Connor too often, especially after he'd returned to school for the Spring Term. I didn't see him in the pub anymore, either - I wasn't using the place nearly as much, while he told me he'd made it clear to his mother that he didn't want to be there at all. He was, in fact, in those early weeks of the New Year, spending a lot more time with his father, who lived ten miles or so away, and seemed much happier as a result.

Finally, though, I had my first long weekend of the year, at the beginning of February, and Connor was on my doorstep, as we'd arranged, by 10:00 on the Saturday morning. He'd told his mother he was spending the day with a friend, which, of course, was the truth, and wasn't expected home until mid-evening. We sat and talked for hours, the first real chance we'd had since the holidays, and, unsurprisingly, the conversation, at Connor's instance, eventually turned towards sexual matters.

"You remember what you said, Matt, that first day, about nearly everyone being a bit bisexual, if they were being completely honest?" I nodded. "Well....I've been thinking about it, and I reckon I might be. Sort of the opposite way round to you, though, I mostly like girls, but I....I think I might like guys a bit, too."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Connor - we are, all of us, what we are. As long as whoever your partner is agrees with what's happening, normal is whatever turns you on, as far as I'm concerned."

The boy's face coloured a little. "Matt...." he began, hesitantly, "I....I really....liked it that first time, when you....you know....sucked me. I really, really loved being....with Bonny, but the....cum I had with you was....was the best one of all! Can....can we....do it again, please?"

I was instantly aroused to a point where it almost hurt. "If....if that's what you really want, sweet boy, I....I'd love to help you feel good. Only....if you're sure, though - I....I've come to value your friendship so much, I wouldn't want anything to....spoil that."

"It won't, Matt, I promise! You're one of the best friends I've ever had, I mean it! But we can be - what do they call it? - 'friends with benefits', can't we?!" The boy grinned broadly.

I laughed out loud. "Friends with benefits! You been reading online stories, or something?!"

Connor blushed a little more deeply. "W....well, yes, actually! We haven't got a computer at home, but Dad's got one, and I found this really hot site, loads of stories, men and boys, boys and boys, boys and girls, boys and women, all sorts! I read it on my phone all the time now - I've been....wanking myself silly!"

"I think I know which site you mean! I'm a 'regular' there, too! I hope your dad didn't find your browser history, though!"

"Nah, I used an incognito window, we all know about those at school!"

"Yeah, the tech-savvy generation, of course! You'll just have to excuse me, I'm old!"

"You're not that old! And, anyway, you're fun!"

"Awwww, Connor, you're too nice to me!"

"And you're so nice to me, too! Can....can you be nice to me....the other way, as well, though? Like I said....it was....the best when you did it. Please, Matt, I really want to."

I looked the boy in the eye, and the desire was clear to see. I nodded, slowly, Connor answering with his megawatt smile.

"In the bedroom, please, Matt. Can we, now?!"

There was no way I could resist, of course. Apart from the sexual attraction I felt for Connor, I knew I was well on the way to falling helplessly in love with him, too, although I did everything I could to keep that side of my feelings under wraps - boys might do sex, but love was a different question, and one I feared might alienate Connor and lead to me losing him altogether. In spite of what he'd said about himself, I had no real doubt that Connor was basically a straight boy, but one who was able to get far enough past any societal norms and prejudices to enjoy the pleasure of sex, whatever its source. Not so much bisexual, as simply 'sexual'. He'd learned enough, too, with Bonny, to have developed a degree of self-control, impressive for someone of his age, so I spent an hour and more that afternoon introducing him to a new experience, that of 'edging'. I used fingers, lips and tongue to bring him to the brink again and again, before finally giving in to his desperate pleas and allowing him to hit the ultimate peak. The force and volume of his ejaculation, almost making me gag as it careered into the back of my throat, was amazing. The boy collapsed back onto the mattress as his orgasm came to its end, and laid there, panting, for at least two or three minutes before he spoke.

"Oh....my....God! How....how the fuck did you learn to do that! It felt like my balls were squirting out, not just my....spunk!"

"If I've learnt, it was just then. You're the only boy I've ever been with. You inspired me!"

Connor giggled, and wrapped his lovely body around mine in the warmest of hugs. We laid together, almost nose to nose, acres, it seemed to me, of skin contact, for a few minutes, before the boy drew back a little so he could properly focus as he looked into my eyes once more. And he was looking serious, too. I wondered what was coming next.

"Matt....what....what's it like for boys....and men to....fuck each other?"

"I couldn't tell you, sweet boy, I'm a virgin, in that sense."

"Reading those....stories....I....I don't know if I want you to....do me, it might....hurt, you being so....fat down there. But.....mine's....really skinny, so....maybe....if you don't mind, c....could I try. Please?"

I shivered involuntarily, feeling a surge of desire coursing through my veins at the very thought of this beautiful boy, the beautiful boy I found so entrancing, making love to me. It was my turn to find it hard to speak.

"I....I'd....r....really....like that, sweet boy. I....I can't think of....anyone I....I'd rather have take....my virginity." My emotions overwhelmed my reserve, the next whispered words escaping my lips before I could call them back. "I....I love you, Connor."

There was what seemed like a shocked silence, and I instantly misgave. What have I done, I thought miserably, I've ruined everything. After a few moments, though, a wave of relief swept over me, as Connor smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

"I....like you, too, Matt, and I'm really....proud to be your....first. Let's....do it."

The boy nudged me onto my back and straddled my body, his steely erection grinding into my pubis. His hips were in motion already, as though beyond his conscious control. My hands gently took hold of his buttocks, stilling his movements.

"Wait, Connor! Give me a few minutes, I had a shower before you arrived, but I want to make sure I'm totally....clean for you. Back there, you know."

The boy grinned sheepishly, his nose wrinkling a little. "Yeah, I guess it could get a bit....messy, couldn't it?!"

"Maybe - like I say, I really don't know, not from personal experience, anyway! Better to be safe than sorry, though, and that part of the body is like any other - if you wash it thoroughly, it'll be clean! Don't go away, I'll be right back!"

The boy gave me a priceless 'Duh!' look. "Go away, you must be bloody joking! I'm not going anywhere! Except...." He blushed, his voice lowering to near inaudibility. "Except....inside you, I hope."

I kissed him gently once more, before disentangling myself from his gorgeous body and heading for the bathroom. "I can't wait!" I grinned.

I was back in the bedroom within five minutes, having washed myself as carefully and comprehensively as I could. I opened the drawer of my bedside table and took out a small tube, one I never thought I'd have cause to use.

"What's that?" Connor asked curiously.

"Lubricant. It's supposed to a good brand, too."

"Oh yeah, I remember reading about that in some of the stories. I guess guys don't get....wet and slippery, like girls do."

"Spot on, sweet boy! It'll make things more comfortable for both of us, I hope. C....can I put....some on for you, please?"

"On one condition!" I looked at him, quizzically. "If I can put it on you, too!"

Not, needless to say, a difficult decision for me to make! "God, yeah, that'll be so hot!" I breathed.

Connor smirked at my excitement. "Let's do it, then!"

I went first, squeezing a generous dollop of the gel onto Connor's pulsing erection. The boy shuddered.

"Bloody hell, that's cold!" It was my turn to grin knowingly, before gripping the boy firmly, revelling in the feeling of the rigidity that thrilled me so much, spreading the lube over his whole length in three or four strokes. The boy gulped in a couple of huge breaths.

"Shit, Matt, you nearly made me cum, there and then! I definitely want to be inside you before that happens!"

"Me too, sweet boy! Your turn with the lube now!"

"How....how are we gonna....do it, Matt? The lube, and....and the....fucking, I mean."

"I....I want to be....on my back, if we....can make it work, I'd love to see your face while we're....doing it."

I grabbed a couple of pillows from the normally unused, at least until recent weeks, side of my double bed, placing them beneath the small of my back, which had the effect of tipping my hips and thighs upwards.

"Do....do I need....to put this....inside you?" Connor whispered, holding the tube of lubricant gingerly between two of his fingers.

"I....I think so, yeah. I'm....clean, sweetie, I promise. Go gently, though, please."

Connor nodded, before coating two of his fingers with the slippery substance. He reached out, tentatively.

"Oh, Connor!" I couldn't help but shudder and sigh at the first touch. I looked up into the boy's face, and he smiled, a little nervously, before beginning to caress my tight ring of muscle.

"Put your fingers inside, darling, please!"

One, and then two digits penetrated my sphincter. The feelings, fuelled by the knowledge that a boy, a beautiful, special boy, was seconds away from making me his, were close to indescribable.

"Oh God, yesssss!" I gasped. "I'm ready, sweet boy! Fuck me, please! J....just go slowly, though."

The boy shuffled forward a little, on his knees, until I felt the skin of his upper thighs touch my buttocks. His fingers slipped from my rectum, leaving a distinct feeling of emptiness, a void that needed to be filled, and soon. I didn't have long to wait.

"Ahhhh!" The head of Connor's pubescent penis entered my anal ring, followed, slowly and smoothly, by inch after inch of his slender shaft. There was a momentary sting of pain, and I struggled against my instinctive reaction to tense up. I adjusted my position a little as he penetrated me, raising my hips higher, and the discomfort lessened. Then, with a shock of recognition, I felt the softness of his pubic hair, the pliability of the pubic mound it decorated so alluringly, pressing against flesh, and I knew he was all the way inside me, my anal virginity definitively gone. I looked up into his face, unable to suppress a goofy grin. Connor smiled back, a tinge of wonderment in his expression.

"Wow, Matt, it's really....different! To....Bonny, I mean. I didn't think it would feel so different. It's really tight, but kind of....lower down, lower on my....dick. It's like you're....squeezing me, really hard."

"Does it feel good, sweet boy?"

"Yeah! Is it good for you, too?"

"I....I don't know yet. It's certainly different, from anything else I've ever felt. D....do it, please, Connor, f....fuck me. Slowly, though, slowly please, until I....get used to it."

Connor nodded, before withdrawing what I judged to be about half of his length, then thrust back into me firmly. I let out something between a grunt and a gasp. A second or so later, he repeated the movement, then again, and again. Each thrust seemed to be becoming slightly longer, stronger, more fluid. Then, after maybe a dozen strokes, the boy seemed to change the 'angle of attack' slightly, and a huge wave of pleasure, almost shocking in its intensity, surged through my body. I groaned uncontrollably.

"C....Connor, oh yeah, there, right there, fuck, that's so good!"

I'd read stories about the prostate gland, and how it could enhance a male's sexual pleasure, but I had no idea just how good it could be. Connor had found the key to unlock a whole treasure chest of ecstasy for me - he was hitting the magic spot, almost every time.

"F....faster, h....harder, s....sweet boy!" Connor obliged. Oh God, could that boy fuck! I had nothing to compare it with, of course, but the power being transmitted from his thighs into my body was nothing short of electrifying. Despite the fact that I was probably nearly twice his weight, he was physically moving me towards the headboard of the bed. And, with the unquenchable energy of youth, he just kept going and going, seemingly getting faster, deeper, stronger with every moment. I was utterly lost, drowning in an impenetrable haze of pure pleasure. Unconsciously, my hand found its way to my throbbing penis, gripping the swollen flesh firmly, not masturbating as such, simply allowing Connor's almost frightening strength to drive me over the precipice of orgasm. An animalistic groan escaped from somewhere deep inside me, and I burst into a brain-melting climax. Through my abandon, I heard Connor's voice, enunciating his own joy as he, too, hit a stunning peak.

"Oh, fuck, oh, Maaaaattt!" I could feel the spasms of his penis inside me, as he thrust as deeply into me as he could, and held there for long seconds, before collapsing on top of my exhausted body. As Bonny had done after their first time, I held him against me, not wanting, never wanting him to leave. Our breathing slowly returned to normal. I moved one of my hands so that I could place a finger under his chin, encouraging him to lift his head, so I could look directly into his lovely eyes. There were no words, none were necessary. I simply touched my lips to his, allowing the fulfillment of forty years of wanting to flow into our kiss. The contact seemed eternal, timeless, despite being no more, probably, than ten or a dozen seconds. Then the tears began. I couldn't help myself. All those years, all the hiding, pretending, being what the world expected of me rather than who I really was, washed away through my lachrymal glands. But happy tears, nothing but happy, as I reassured Connor when I came back to myself enough to focus once more on his concerned gaze.

"S....sorry, Connor. It....it's been such a long wait. I never felt real before, never felt complete. But you've taken me there. I'm so happy!"

I'd hoped Connor would smile, but, if anything, he suddenly looked upset, maybe even bordering on anger. He wriggled free from my embrace, and withdrew from my body, rolling onto his side, his back to me. I was instantly appalled. I've used this boy, abused him, just to make myself feel better. About myself. But now, an equal and opposite reaction set in. I couldn't have hated myself more.

"I....I'm so sorry, Connor. I....I've been so....selfish. I didn't mean....to h....hurt you. I...." The boy spun to face me, the dampness on his own cheeks evident. When he spoke, it was with the vehemence I'd only heard once before from him, on Christmas Day in the pub toilet when he first told me about the situation with his mother.

"Don't be so fucking dumb, Matt! I'm not angry with you, not one bit! You've just given me the best feelings of my whole bloody life!" His tone softened, a little, as he continued, more hesitantly. "It....it's....me I'm angry with." I looked at him with total confusion. "You....you really love me, care about me. Don't you?" I nodded, still having no idea where the conversation was heading. "N....no-one's ever done that before. My mum's never cared, even when I was little, and my dad's never been around, until the last few weeks. It wasn't his fault, Mum went to lawyers and stopped him seeing me, she just hates him. He's told me, now that I'm old enough to be able to find him on my own. But you - you cared. And you, and Bonny, have made me so happy. It's not just about sex, it's about the love I've never had. But...." Connor's voice tailed off, and it was long seconds before he could continue. "But....I d....don't love you, Matt." It all came out, in a rush. "I....I mean, I really like you, a lot, but I don't love you....not like you love me. And I feel guilty about that. I should love you, b....but I just....can't." Connor began to cry again. I reached over and laid my hand on his shoulder, cupping it gently. My self-pity was forgotten, I simply wanted to make this special young person feel better.

"Connor, I told you earlier, what I want from you, if I want anything, is for us to be friends. Even that's up to you, though. I've been lucky beyond words to have found you, to have had the experiences we've shared. They're forever, for me. But I know you're different, different from me. You're a straight boy, aren't you, really?"

"I....I think so, yeah."

"So, if that's what you are, that's the path you should follow. That was the huge mistake I made in my life, not being myself, and all the unhappy things, really, that have happened to me have come as a result of that mistake. Be yourself, Connor. If that means you walking away and never seeing me again, just do it."

"No! No fucking way, Matt! When I said I really liked you, I meant it! Don't you believe me?"

"Hey, hey, don't be angry with me, please. Of course I believe you. I just want to do, want you to do, what's best for you."

To my relief, Connor suddenly grinned wickedly, pushed me onto my back, and straddled my waist.

"What's best for me, eh! Well, just guess what that is!" He pressed his renewed erection into my midriff. "I wanna do it again, right now! I've cummed twice, I should be able to last for ages!"

And, oh boy, did he! Fifteen minutes, at least, starting very slowly and deliberately, before building to a a frantic, passionate crescendo. I couldn't last nearly as long as him, cumming minutes before him. He gasped and shuddered as the contractions of my climax gripped him tightly, but still kept pumping away, almost to the point where I thought I couldn't take any more. Finally, though, his pulsing, throbbing joy boiled over once again. Even then, he kept thrusting long after his orgasm had finished, his face clearly portraying the almost over-stimulated sensitivity of his penis, but seemingly unable to stop. After one last insanely powerful thrust, though, he groaned in what sounded like frustration, and pulled out of me, rolling onto his back, grinning fit to bust.

"I...didn't want....to....stop," he panted, "but I'm....getting....bloody sore! It's all....your fault!" He pouted at me, in mock disapproval. I couldn't help but laugh, leaning over to kiss his nose. He grinned once more.

"You have laboured well, young master! Take your rest!" He took me at my word. In what seemed like seconds, he was fast asleep.

****

"Is Bonny coming to stay at Easter?" Connor asked me one afternoon shortly before the school holiday was due to begin, when he'd called into the flat. I was pleased to see him, having worked quite a lot of overtime in the preceding weeks, cutting our chances of getting together markedly.

"She'll be here for a few days, I hope, but that's all. She's got her GCSEs coming up more or less straight after the holiday, so she'll have loads of revision to do, and she's off to visit one of her internet buddies in Scotland, too."

"Oh, right. Whereabouts in Scotland?"

"Just outside Glasgow, I think, she did tell me the name of the place, but it's slipped my mind."

"I might be going to Scotland, too - my dad's girlfriend is Scottish, and she wants to visit her family over Easter. They live in Edinburgh. My dad's going with her, and I've told my mum I want to go as well. She's not happy, but that's not exactly news, she's never bloody happy!"

I laughed for a moment, before continuing more seriously. "You reckon she'll stop you going?"

"She might try, but I'm 14 now, and she knows I want to spend more time with Dad. As long as it doesn't get him in trouble, I'd probably just go anyway, and bollocks to her!"

"I understand how you feel, but you know you need to be careful, I'm sure - if you just disappear, your mum might get the police involved, and that could mean a load of crap for you and your dad."

"Yeah, I do know - I think it's going to work out, though, and it's only for a long weekend, it's not as if I'm moving up there."

"Well, let's hope it goes as you want, and I'll let you know what Bonny's doing, once I know myself - she's a bit of a 'woman of mystery' at the moment!"

"Tell me about it, she hasn't even Skyped me lately!"

"Well, like I say, she's busy with school stuff - she doesn't even ring me much, I have to call her most of the time. Kids, who'd have 'em!"

Connor's eyes twinkled mischievously. "What about a kid 'having' you?!"

"Sounds like a bloody good idea to me!" Seconds later, the bedroom door was closing behind us.

****

Once Bonny did share her proposed holiday plans with me, it was evident that her and Connor's paths weren't going to cross this time around - she was coming to me for the very weekend that he was now confirmed to be away with his dad. The boy was a little upset to be missing her - and missing a chance, no doubt, of renewing their sexual relationship, given that she was still the only girl he'd been to bed with - but he was pleased, at least, that he and my daughter were back in regular touch, by e-mail and Skype, once more. My girl barely mentioned Connor during her three days with me, but had rather more to say about Ryan, the friend she was off to Scotland to see. Connor would be pretty disappointed, I thought, to discover that Bonny might be entering into a 'long-distance' relationship with someone else after turning one down with him, but, ultimately, it was none of my business, and I did, slightly selfishly, harbour the hope that if he couldn't be with my daughter, he might be more inclined to hone his now considerable lovemaking skills with me instead.

That wasn't, though, how things transpired. I next saw Connor the weekend after Easter, and he turned out to be bubbling over with news.

"Guess what, Matt! My dad has applied for a job up in Edinburgh, and, if he gets it, he's said he'll take me with him! My mum's not even arguing about it, I can't believe it!" There was more, too. He simply couldn't hold his enthusiasm in check. "A....and Carla, Dad's girlfriend, has....this niece, just a few months younger than me. Sinead. And she's....really hot! And she really likes me, too. We didn't....do it - not quite, anyway, but we sneaked round to her house, got....naked, and everything, and gave each other cums! It was brilliant!"

I was so pleased for him. I really, genuinely was. But I couldn't hide my other feelings well enough. The very real prospect of losing this boy, so soon after meeting him, left me bereft. Everything looked bleak, to the horizon, and beyond. It wasn't, really wasn't, the sex, much as I enjoyed it. It was his friendship, the bond that had developed between two people who both needed someone in their lives, and had found each other. My disappointment must have shown on my face, as clearly as a flag.

"S....sorry, Matt, I....I didn't mean to....upset you."

"You've got nothing to apologise for, Connor, I promise. I'm really glad for you. You deserve to be happy. And Sinead, too - it's really great you've found someone your own age, I mean it. I hope everything works out for you."

"Matt?" The boy looked at me for a moment, but then looked away.

"Yeah?"

"It....it's about Sinead. We're....going out together. So I....can't do....stuff....with you anymore. Or Bonny."

"Of course not! I wouldn't expect it for a minute. C....can I just ask you for one favour, though?" The boy looked at me questioningly, but didn't reply in words. "Could....I have one last....hug, please?"

Connor nodded without hesitation, before, not at all gently, shoving me back onto the sofa and straddling my thighs. He put his arms around my neck, and, barely before I had time to breathe, had locked his lips passionately to mine. After long seconds, he withdrew, sitting back far enough that we could focus on each other's faces.

"I was wrong, Matt. I do love you, after all. Just in a different way from how you love me, I think. And that won't be the last hug, I promise!"

I smiled, beatifically. "Love you, too, sweet boy."

****

Good as his word, it wasn't the last hug with Connor. But, as things worked out, there weren't many more. Connor's dad did, indeed, get his job, and it soon filtered through to me that the move to Edinburgh was only weeks away, at the end of June - Scottish school summer holidays were around a month earlier than their English equivalent, and the family had decided that their move would be timed to coincide, because Connor would otherwise have only had a two week summer break. So it was, a scant six months after his first visit to my flat, that he made his last. We hugged and kissed, there were a few tears, on both sides, promises of undying friendship and of keeping in touch, and then he was gone. And, within a couple of months, so was the flat - Bonny had decided not to come to London to do her A-Levels after all, moving instead from her academic grammar school to a further education college at home to pursue her principal interests of IT and graphic design - so, when the tenancy contract came up for renewal in the early autumn, and the landlord insisted on a substantial rent increase if I wanted to stay, I looked elsewhere, finding a considerably cheaper place, albeit in a much less salubrious area, but one from which I could just as easily commute to work. On my 'moving day', there were few regrets, but I did spent several minutes standing in the bedroom doorway, remembering Connor losing his virginity there, and his later taking mine, but, most of all, remembering those amazing minutes when I unwrapped the best Christmas present of my whole life. It almost seemed like a dream, a fantasy, and might have been, except that the sight of Connor's strong, sturdy teenage body, the scent and taste of him, the sound of his voice in moments of rapture, the silken touch of his skin against mine, were all so indelibly imprinted in my mind. At length, I sighed, deeply and unconsciously, closed the door, and walked away, without looking back.

****

"Dad, when you come to visit next week, I've got a surprise for you. One I think you'll really like."

Bonny was 23 now, a couple of years into what showed every sign of becoming a successful career as a freelance graphic artist, and well settled into her new life in Glasgow, where she'd taken her degree. Her relationship with Ryan hadn't lasted beyond a few months after her move to university, something which had upset her considerably at the time, but which she was long since over. After her graduation, and with my sixtieth birthday rapidly approaching, I'd taken early retirement and headed back to the West Country, renting a small flat in a Cornish fishing and tourist town for a fraction of the price of any metropolitan equivalent. I spent my days idling, pretty much, trying to write the novel I thought I had in me, but, in truth, spending far more time in my new local, spinning yarns with the group of friends I'd made there.

I hadn't heard from Connor for more than three years - he did stay in touch, mostly by e-mail, until his final school exams were approaching, but the contact had gradually dwindled as he approached adulthood, and, after excusing himself by saying he was awash with school work and probably wouldn't be in touch for a few weeks, broke contact altogether. At that point, he was still comfortably ensconced in his relationship with Sinead, and had been talking of getting engaged to her. I had no way of knowing whether that eventuality had come about, though - when I tried, a few months later, to e-mail him, the mail bounced. I did feel a surge of disappointment, for a day or two, but quickly realised that there was nothing to be gained by brooding on the past, and moved on myself.

So it was, on a Wednesday evening in July, that I alighted from a train at Glasgow Central, cramped and aching after a ten hour through journey from Cornwall. I hadn't seen Bonny for several months, though, so the gain greatly outweighed the temporary pain. I made my way through the ticket barrier, soon spotting my girl, who waved happily. She wasn't alone, either, being accompanied by a dark haired young man of around my height of six feet. He smiled, and a twinge of something just below the threshold of memory stirred in my mind. As Bonny hugged me warmly, he spoke.

"You don't recognise me, do you, Matt?"

His accent was coloured by a patina of Scots, but was unmistakably Southern English in origin. Suddenly, all sorts of lights went on in my head.

"Connor! Bloody hell, Connor!"

He grinned broadly. "That's me! How have you been, Matt?"

"Good, but all the better for seeing you! Both of you!"

Bonny finally released me from her embrace, and grinned in her turn.

"See, I told you you'd like your surprise! Let's go for a drink and something to eat, and catch up a bit."

The next three hours, before we left to catch the last suburban train to the area where Bonny's new flat was situated, were little short of a revelation. Connor's relationship with Sinead had ended acrimoniously, in the summer he'd left school to begin an IT apprenticeship - his interest was technical, as opposed to Bonny's creative bent - when he discovered she'd been cheating on him with one of his closest friends. After a couple of years when he'd concentrated on his work and studies, being involved in no more than casual flings with a number of young women - and one young man his own age, while he was on holiday in Spain, he told me - he'd been idly surfing the net one evening, and had decided to put Bonny's name in his search bar. He'd found her then new business website, e-mailed her, and it wasn't many days before they'd arranged to meet up.

"We found we liked each other just as much as when we were younger," Connor said, "so we're finally together, and it's great!"

"And not only that, but when he finished his apprenticeship last month, his company offered him a job, here in Glasgow," Bonny added. "Connor moved in with me last week!"

"Brilliant!" I enthused. "I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have as a son-in-law!"

"Don't get carried away, Dad! We're not getting married any time soon - neither of us really believe in it that much, anyway. You don't need to get married these days, no-one cares much about people just living together."

"Alright, consider me admonished! Virtual son-in-law, then, how does that sound!"

Connor chuckled. "Fine, virtual dad-in-law!"

"Don't worry guys, I'll make it into the 21st Century eventually!" We all laughed.

****

There was a 'commitment party', eventually, four or five years on, kind of a wedding reception without the wedding. By that time, the next generation had arrived, too, in the form of a cute, bright as a button little boy of three, the image of his father. I couldn't be prouder of my daughter, her partner, and my grandson. Long may they continue to live the fairytale, happy ever after!

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B