Artwork (c) 2004 by Voyeur
I had wondered how my son would react to seeing me. Would he recognize his own father in the little boy standing before him? Or would he accept me as a stranger in his life. I'd have to be careful not to say anything to let him know I knew him; it'd be easy to slip and say something I shouldn't.
But he and Gregory were distracted by my state of dishabille! "Hey!" John yipped. "Where's your pants?"
Roger had sneaked me out of the university, but my clothing had been impossible, I had settled for just donning my shirt again, it hung down to my knees and made a passable nightshirt-like garment. Roger's car had been pulled up to a side door, and he pushed it open and I had darted inside, and lain down for the trip to his home. I expected to borrow some of his son's clothing, Roger said that Gregory and I looked like the same size.
And I had brought the medallion with me. I would continue to work on its mystery (now I had the best possible reason for doing that!), but I would do it from Roger's apartment. Roger would bring me the books and papers I asked him for, and I could use his computer to communicate via e-mail with my colleagues around the world. Somebody, somewhere, had to have heard something about this item; the effect it had must have impacted the society that it had been a part of!
"Where's your pants?" Gregory hooted, the two boys laughing at me.
I had to act like I was John's age, seven years old. I gave a bit of a grin and said, "They got all messed up. I had to borrow this from your dad."
"You know my dad?" John asked.
Oops! Boy, I was getting off to a good start! "Yeah, he told me you'd be here." I ad-libbed. "You must be John."
"Yeah." John said. "I'm staying here a few days. So's my dad."
"What's your name?" Gregory wanted to know.
"Lyle." I said. John didn't catch on that it was his father's name, what kid thinks of their father as having a first name, really? I was just "Dad" to him.
"Come on, Lyle, I got some clothes you can wear." Gregory said.
I expected John to ask about where his father was, but he was too eager to help me get some more clothes just that moment. I had often worked late, he wasn't too surprised by my "absence."
John and Gregory just sat on the edge of the bed and giggled as I took off my sole item of clothing, my shirt, and then they saw the medallion. "Gee, what's that?" Gregory said to me. I was wearing it (and why not, it wasn't working anyhow; I kept hoping that taking it off after a while would make the effect go away, turn me into a man once again).
"Just something I wear." I said to Gregory and John.
"Can I see it?" John asked me as I pulled on a pair of briefs.
"Sure." I said. To turn down such a request would be out of character for a child bearing nothing but an oddity around his neck. And it wasn't like the medallion was working; I was its only victim.
John lifted it and looked at it. "Cool!" he said, then he giggled. "They're naked."
Well, the characters were nude. "Yeah, it's old." I pointed out.
"It sure is." Gregory said as he looked at it. "Can I wear it?"
"God, no!" I said. Then I backtracked, I had spoken as a protective father. "Well, not just now. Maybe later." Later, John would forget about it. I should put it in a safe place for hiding until I was alone with it, anyhow. I didn't want to experiment on my own son, or even with him present! "Let me finish getting dressed and we'll go play, okay?"
"Okay!" John was happy about that.
"Sure!" Gregory chimed in.
So the three of us played, the boys for real and me as an attempt to keep them from guessing the truth. Frankly, I was a real washout as a child again. There's a random factor to child's play that an adult has long forgotten. I kept trying to insist on the rules, or they would change the game on me in mid-flight, and I would be baffled, even upset, and it was generally not a whole lot of fun. Still, John and Gregory were a great pair of kids, they kept on trying with me, never dropping in to the mockery and exclusion that kids will do sometimes to an odd kid, they just would talk to me a while and we would try something else. I did best at the board games, but even here, there was a total disregard for the rules that confused the heck out of me. Kids playing with their father will obey the rules, kids playing together tend to make up their own!
But I was getting the hang of it by bedtime. One advantage of my new form was an almost limitless energy. Roger was watching us, rather befuddled by my behavior. "You'd better take it easy." he pointed out to me when I was alone with him for a moment in the kitchen after supper. "You plan to be up tonight, don't you, sending your inquiries out over my computer?"
"Yeah." I agreed. "But I'm not tired, honest. And I'll be here tomorrow when John and Gregory go off to school, too. You can pick up my reference books from my office for me and bring them with you at lunchtime, I should be done with the on-line work by then."
"Hey, Lyle, come on!" came the call from the family room.
"You'd better go play some more." Roger said, and he swatted my fanny the light, playful way a father swats his son's butt...or a man pats his lover's ass. That second one was definitely a grope.
"What are we doing?" I asked as I went into the family room.
"Bedtime." Gregory pointed out the clock. It was nine o'clock.
"But...but...." Well, they were right. It was bedtime...for seven year old boys who had to get up for school in the morning. "All right." I said. I could slip down after they went to sleep and work some at the computer. I hadn't dared so far, as the "new boy," I was being watched too much by my son and Roger's son; I was different and interesting to them still. They were trying to figure me out, and I didn't want to be figured out!
Best to just play along as they did, and hope I got back to normal soon as I could.
Why wouldn't the medallion work on me again? Why had it worked the first time on me, and then not on Roger at all? I had slipped the medallion into the desk in Roger's study while playing "hide and seek" with the boys, so it was safe enough...for now.
I got upstairs and said, "Okay, so where do I sleep?"
"With us, doofus." Gregory said. He meant the term kindly enough, it was his word for someone acting dumb for just a second or two. "It's a sleepover, remember?"
"Oh...yeah." I said. Roger had a guest room, I knew. But in the crazy medley of the day, I hadn't thought about it. I should have asked for the guest room, as it was, the boys expected me to pile into Gregory's bed with them. I would complain about not being able to sleep and get the bed alone tomorrow night. For now...stay in character, boys loved sleeping together so they could whisper and play even in bed.
Watching my son and Gregory, I saw them strip down just to their briefs and crawl in, and I imitated them. My problem was where I was to sleep. Gregory was firmly on the one side and John just as firmly in place in the other. "Where can I get?" I asked.
"New guy takes the middle." John said. It was the voice of child authority, a rule that was not to be ignored. Pecking order. Dominance/submission. I obeyed, and had to sit on the pillows to worm my way down between them. They scooted over slightly to give me room, but I ended up the center of a boy sandwich.
As Gregory turned out the light, I said, " Gee, it's kind of crowded in here." Setting things up for me moving out tomorrow and into the big guest bed. Maybe Roger could slip in after lights out for some more fun...but no, his wife was there, she had kept mostly in the background all night. Sharon was like that, like she didn't want to socialize. She certainly didn't have much use for children, I felt sorry for Gregory having a cold mother like he did; though Roger made up for that a good bit.
"You got enough room?" Gregory asked me.
"I guess." I temporized. My arm was lying on top of Gregory's arm and it was almost as bed with John. "Can you scoot over a little more?"
"Sure." Gregory said and he scooted...closer. Now his body was up against mine. And his hand slipped into my briefs with the age-old confidence of little boys playing in bed...of course you wanted to play this game! Everybody did!
I was surprised. I had semi-forgotten the old boyhood game of "grab-dick" that kids played. I guess I hadn't thought about it. Gregory and John liked sleeping over at each other's houses, and after the lights were out, I'd have to shout at them time and again to settle down and go to sleep. Of COURSE they were playing grab-dick in the darkness and the warmth and safety of their beds. It was a terrific game to play and it felt so good. But you had to keep it a secret from the grown-ups.
So Gregory's hand slipped into my briefs and his little fingers caught hold of my tiny little-boy dick. I gasped as his hand wrapped around me, so warm and gentle and friendly, just a buddy helping out a buddy, a friend exploring a friend, a pal touching a pal's pud, what's wrong with that?
"Ooh!" I said when Gregory had a firm hold.
"You like that?" Gregory asked me.
"Yeah." I said. "Feels good."
"You do mine, now." Gregory ordered. Again, it was the age-old hierarchy of children, the games could change around, but there were the rules that were never broken. You couldn't refuse to return the favor, if a guy had hold of your dick, you had to get hold of his, and help him feel better in turn, it was "just fair!"
"Me, too." John declared. His own hand had joined Gregory's, Gregory shifted around when John's fingers touched his, and made room, now I had TWO boys hanging onto my dick at once! They were sharing me!
My own hand was now inside Gregory's underpants, and I had the small, warm worm of his boyhood in my fingertips. But I hesitated on John's...he was my own son!
"Come on, me too!" John insisted.
"I...I can't." I said.
John gave a grunt of exasperation and his hand left my cock and both hands grabbed hold of my arm on his side and he forced my hand onto his crotch. "It's right there! Come on! Be fair."
"Yeah, come on, get hold of his." Gregory urged me. "You're the new boy, you have to take hold of both of us, you know. It's fair."
Again the word "fair" used in the way of youth. How can you argue with that word? You can't!
"Come on, get hold of me and we'll all do it together." John said.
"You want to do it all together, don't you?" Gregory wheedled. "It's more fun when we're all doing it together.
And to add emphasis to his words, Gregory began to manipulate my little boy prick with his fingers. God, Gregory was really good at this. Roger had been awkward, with his big fingers and his oversized mouth, he didn't know what to do with a tiny little-boy cock, but Gregory, Roger's son, he knew just what to do, for he had been working my son's dick for some time!
"Come on." John was getting urgent, the whine of a kid who's being left out of a game. His little dong was like a hard peg knocking at my hand as he kept my fingers down at his crotch. I had to take it, he was saying, I have to take his dick for him, it's only fair!
This was what boys did, I told myself. They didn't think of it as being bad (well, they thought it was "naughty" which is different from bad), they didn't think of it as sex, even, it was just a way to feel real good that grown-ups tended to frown upon, so boys had to keep it secret, the furtive "in the gang" groups at night, piled into one bed, giggling like so many monkeys in the secret darkness.
So I did it, I began to wiggle Gregory's prick with my hand, and I fumbled into John's briefs, and he sighed so happily when I did, when I found that overly hot little tool of his pulsing eagerly for me and when I got hold of it, my son crooned with his joy.
I groaned, too, I admit it, I had my own son's dick in my hand, and another boy's dick in my other hand, and I had a boy pumping away at my own tiny dong with an expertise that belied his years, for boys were expert at pleasing boys, and I was a boy again!
Two sturdy young puds were being whipped by my fingers, I knew and understood cocks in a way they didn't, I knew just how and why the body felt pleasure, and I could keep their organs humming as I wriggled their foreskins over their puds.
"Oh, that's good, Lyle." John said to me. "You're good at this. I thought maybe you didn't know how." he admitted bashfully.
"I knew how." I said. "I just didn't know if we should do it. I'm...I'm a friend of your dad. I mean my dad is."
"My dad and John's dad are friends." Gregory said. "They're really good friends. They like to sleep together like we are." he confided to me.
That startled me. Roger and I had been careful, we hadn't shacked up with Gregory in the house, we had confined our activities to those moments when two guys can get alone, be alone. When had Gregory caught on? What did he know?
"What do you mean, they sleep together." I asked.
"We went camping last summer." Gregory said, and my heart sank. My time twice-removed from last with Roger had been during a camping trip. The boys had been off swimming and the womenfolk had driven to town to buy supplies, and Roger and I had slipped into the tent for a bit of mutual delight. The pleasure of sucking Roger's dong in the middle of that tree-draped lake-shore had been so marvelously delightful, the joy of lovemaking stolen and rushed.
"What happened?" John asked. This was news to him, too.
"My dad and your Dad were in the tent together." Gregory said to John. "Just like we are now, kind of."
"Yeah, they were doing something weird." Gregory said. "They had their mouths on each other's peenies. Sucking on them like they were candy."
"Yeah?" John was fascinated.
"That's gross." I chipped in, not that I thought it was, but I wanted him to drop this confidence. He'd kept the damned secret for nearly six months, why did he have to blurt it out tonight of all nights?
"They seemed to like it." Gregory said. And suddenly, I knew why Gregory was blurting this out tonight. "Uh...do you guys want to try it. Do like Dad and John's dad were doing?"
"It's gross." I said again.
"I bet it tastes nasty." John agreed.
"Well, they didn't seem to think so. I heard your Dad say he loved how my Dad's peenie tasted. I bet it tastes good. You guys want to find out?"
"Sure." John said. Damn my son's spirit of adventure!
"I don't know."
"I'll do it first and tell you what it tastes like." Gregory said.
The covers were thrown back and my son and Gregory pulled off their underpants. I was again in my dilemma. If I raised too much ruckus, what was I going to do? Kids experimented like this, it didn't damage them...unless some jerk turned it into a big deal, it didn't! They found things out, and then dropped it as they got older. I had...but this was John's time of discovery.
So I slowly removed my own underpants. When I did, Gregory was quick to go down on me, his had his little face and mouth around my dong in no time. Again, I found his littler mouth and body were just the right size for me, he fit me the way an adult couldn't. I was enraptured by his actions, he must have gotten a real good look at how Roger and I had sucked each other that time. We had been so certain we weren't being observed, out there in the wilderness, that we had relaxed our guard. What child would give up swimming to come look at his parents back at the camp? Well, Gregory had, and had gotten an education in the process!
Gregory stopped all too soon. "It tastes fine." He said. "Kind of like your finger tastes. It's not nasty at all."
"Let me try it." John said, and my son dove down onto my cock. He didn't know what to do, and I was wincing in no time.
"Oh, ow, no, son, no, you have to, ow, keep your teeth out of the way. Just use your lips." I instructed him.
"How do you know?" John said, letting go of my cock.
"You've done it before!" Gregory said accusingly.
"Uh...yeah." I said.
"So why were you calling it gross?" John wondered.
"I...I didn't want you to find out I knew." I said bashfully. I was bashful, God, admit to your own son you were a cocksucker!
"Here, do mine!" Gregory ordered. He got on his knees and shoved his little dong at me imperiously. "Let me feel what it's like, come on!"
I was on the spot, and I complied, I took Gregory's dick in my mouth and I sucked him the way only an adult who's been doing it for decades can do. Gregory was groaning away and John returned to sucking my cock. We did it like this, then my son, the practical one, said, "Gregory, you do me, now. You promised."
Gregory went over and we were now in a triangle, three little boys in a triad of lust, blissfully sucking each other's willies, that little pud of Gregory's was a delight, so soft and supple, and yet just as firm, a miniature of his father so much, and my son was exercising an increasing talent upon my own dong, while Gregory slurped on his, I taught Gregory by doing him, he tried it out on my son, and my son tried it out on me. And we were three boys learning by doing, wrapped in the darkness of the room, hidden from the light of parental eyes. Was I turning into a little boy in fact here? I felt so much now like the little boy again, wrapped up in the adventure of pleasure without guilt or morals or strictures of marital vows. I relaxed with these boys in a way I had never quite relaxed with Roger, with Roger it was always the joy of the forbidden, two married men taking a little vacation from marriage by bumping the mattress springs up and down with each other, there was a joy in that...but there was a joy here, too, the joy of fearlessness, of the absence of guilt, of the presence only of adventure and delight mixed together.
And in that blissful attitude, I reached my little climax and I was groaning as I made it to my tiny summit of ecstasy, and Gregory did the same, and I was surprised to find a tiny bit of salty liquid ended up on my tongue then, his body taking the first furtive steps to ejaculation, it lacked the power of a man's load and was probably only a clear liquid, but it was there, just the same, declaring his infant manhood proudly.
Gregory continued and brought John off, and we were then a trio of satiated youth. Gregory sleepily fetched the covers from the floor and we spread them over ourselves in a haphazard sort of way. I would wait now until they were asleep, and then I would slip away, though doing that with the two boys right up against me was going to be difficult....
The next thing I knew, it was morning. Sharon was waking us three boys up, and I was surprised and chagrined at how I had slept for over ten hours without a problem.
"You can loan him some school clothes." Sharon told her son Gregory. "Do you go to Gregory's school?" she asked me.
"No, I'm...I'm home schooled." I said, lying shamefully here. "I need to use your computer. Ask uh, your husband, he'll tell you that's what I'm supposed to do."
Sharon was dubious but left.
"You're staying home." Gregory said enviously.
"Yeah, but I have to work and study here at the house." I said. "It's tough, just as tough as school."
"You lucky dog." John said. "Lyle, can you come by school at three o'clock? I'll introduce you to the guys on my softball team, and you can play with us."
"It's fun." Gregory put in.
"I'll think about it." I agreed.
"Well, if you're staying home, you can shower last." Gregory decided. "Me and John have to hurry if we're going to get to school on time."
"Lucky dog." John said again.
"I'll be studying real hard here at the house." I said.
I ate breakfast, then took my shower last, as Gregory and John had their breakfast. I would have to also wait for Sharon to leave for work, but she didn't leave that much later than the boys, I felt sure.
She wasn't. "You sure you'll be okay here all alone?" she asked me.
"Roger...your husband is coming back to tutor me." I said. "I'll be fine, don't worry. I'm a very responsible little boy."
Sharon sniffed but she and Roger must have talked for she didn't argue any more. When the house was finally mine, I went down to the study. First, I would have to look at the inscription again, and see what I could find to match it on the Worldwide Web. Let's see, I put it in this drawer here.
No, maybe this one.
I searched with an increasing fear. By the end of an hour, I had torn the study up completely, even taken books off the shelves in my search.
The medallion was gone.
THE END OF CHAPTER TWO
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