PZA Boy Stories

Herb Cat

Rip


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Summary

An exploration of a man attracted to prepubescent boys and his developing relationship with one boy in particular, his own nephew.
Publ. 2006 (Nifty); this site Dec 2010
Finished 31,500 words (63 pages)

Characters

Rip (9-10yo) and other boys (8-13yo), Rip's parents and uncle Malcolm (29-30yo)

Category & Story codes

Consensual Man-Boy story
Mb bbcons mast oral analincest interr
(Explanation)

Disclaimer

If you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.

If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place?

This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.

It is just a story, ok?

Author's note

Please note: this story depicts men having oral and anal sex with consenting boys from age 6 to 15, in a loving and safe environment. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to HerbCatWriter(at)yahoo(dot)com or through this feedback form with Herb Cat - Rip in the subject line. Thank you.

Table of Contents

  1. At the Beach
  2. Rip Goes to a Funeral
  3. The Johnsons; Uncle Makes a List
  4. Rip's Report
  5. Father and Son Bond; Thanksgiving
  6. The Photo Album
  7. Christmas
  8. Rip Shows Off; Disney World
  9. Rip's New Brother
  10. The Mentor
  11. A Special Trip
  12. Epilogue: Twelve Years Later

Chapter 1
At the Beach

Rip loved Sunday mornings. He didn't have to do his classes with Demetrius. He didn't have soccer (oops, Futbal) practice. But best of all, his nanny had Sundays off and he could spend the whole day with Mom and Dad.

Dr. Marcus Sloan and Dr. Andrea Sloan were both archeologists. This was their fourth season on the island of Naxos, in the Aegean Sea. Working together in the dig proved to be a mixed blessing. It meant that neither of them had to be left back in the States when the other traveled abroad for months at a time. They found their skills complemented each other well. And they both enjoyed the Grecian climate. However, with both of them at work, they had to leave Rip with someone for the day. They were fortunate to find old Cassandra the first year. She was efficient, caring, and full of good humor, and her fifty some years never prevented her from keeping up with Rip's rambunctious games. Rip liked her but of course missed his parents.

Being gone for part of the school year back in America, the Sloans decided to make up for it by hiring a tutor. Demetrius was well worth his salary. Having studied at Syracuse University, his English was excellent. He knew how to help Rip with his math and science, and was introducing him to conversational Greek. Occasionally his partner, Alex, would drop by. Alex coached Rip's soccer (oops, Futbal) team.

Having only turned nine that July, Rip loved being on Naxos. He had a lot of friends among the local boys. They made good-natured fun of his habit of calling the game 'soccer' but nonetheless admired his excellent footwork. That was another reason Rip liked Sundays. The Sloans usually spent the day at the beach and all of Rip's friends were there as well with their families.

Marcus parked the Plymouth just south of the beach and they climbed out. Rip jumped out of his shorts and ran buck naked down the beach to join his friends.

"Rip sure has no embarrassment about playing on a nude beach, Andrea."

"Of course not, why should he?" Andrea slipped out of her blouse and shorts, and grabbed the picnic basket.

"Well, when I was Rip's age, I would have died if anyone had seen my little pecker."

"Yeah, well, maybe Rip doesn't need to be ashamed of his." Andrea gave Marcus a loving punch to his biceps.

"What are you saying? My dick is too small? It seemed big enough for you last night."

"Yes, Honey. It was plenty big last night. Don't get paranoid." Marcus grabbed the blanket, umbrella, and beach bag and sauntered bare-assed with his wife toward the beautiful white sand. Occasionally, his eyes would follow some girl in her early twenties with perky tits and an inviting ass. He thought he was being discrete but nothing got past Andrea. "Great scenery here, right, Darling?"

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for looking. I got hormones you know."

"Yeah, well watch those hormones. You ain't wearing anything to disguise your excitement." Marcus moved the blanket to the front as they walked. "Ha, I guess you still don't want anyone seeing your little pecker."

"Come on, Andy, give me a break." They spread the blanket on the sand and Marcus began erecting the umbrella, when a ball came bouncing toward them followed by four little boys, racing to get it, dicks bouncing madly.

"Sorry, Mom, Sorry, Dad." Rip kicked the ball back up the beach and in a flash, the four little innocent asses were gone again.

"I think it's great that Rip isn't growing up with the hangups you had, Mark. Look at him with his buddies, free as a bird, not a care in the world. That's the way life should be. Come on, let's get some rays. We've been down in that hole all week."

"It's sunny out at the dig site."

"Yeah, but it doesn't do a hell of a lot of good when you're dressed head to toe in work clothes." Andrea grabbed the lotion and began lubing her arms and legs. Marcus took the tube from her and went to work on her back.

.oOo.

"Marcus, Honey, we've been in the sun twenty minutes now. You don't want to burn."

"Yes, Mother!"

"Hey, big boy. I'm just looking out for you. I'd like to keep you around a few years."

"Oh, really? I thought maybe you had a young Greek toy boy waiting in the wings."

"Well, maybe I do. Anyway, I'm going to lie under the umbrella. You do what you want."

"OK, I'll join you in a minute, Andrea. I'm just going to check up on Rip first."

"Worry wart."

.oOo.

"Hi, Rip. You guys finished playing?"

"Just taking a rest, Dad. Soc had to run home to feed his dog. The other guys are taking a leak. Or, like Mom says, urinating."

Sloan smiled at this observation on his wife's futile campaign to get everyone to use clinical language. "Then you wanta walk down the beach with me, Son?"

"Sure Dad." A good bonding moment. Father and son, totally naked, nothing to hide from each other, discussing the important issues of the day: what kind of dog Soc has, who is the best goalie, how terrible Cassandra's cooking is. Of course these discussions were occasionally punctuated by either a paternal or filial fart which provided both with typical masculine amusement. "Dad, does Mom ever have farts?"

"No Son, she has flatulence."

Rip laughed with his Dad.

"Hey Marcus!" Father and son turned to the source of the call.

"Oh, hi, Jeremy." A man, slightly older than Sloan, came jogging up. His body was covered in graying hair which in turn was covered in glistening sweat. At Rip's eye level, his attention was caught by the sweat dripping from the stranger's dick, a dick even more ample than his Dad's.

"Rip, this is Dr. Wilson. He works at the dig with Mommy and me."

The stranger extended his hand, – "Hi, Son." – and Rip cautiously shook it.

"So, Jeremy, I haven't seen you here before."

"Yeah, my first time here. I'd heard there were a lot of nude beaches on the island, but the wife wasn't keen on it. She figured it would all be fags and pervs."

Marcus winced a little at his colleague's coarse speech. He didn't like Rip hearing slurs against someone. "Well, as you can see, it's all normal folks here. Family folks. We come nearly every Sunday and enjoy it. The water is the best."

"So, where's the gorgeous Andrea?" Marcus winced again. At the work site, everyone was accustomed to Jeremy's flirtatious sexual banter, but he wasn't sure Rip's ears should be hearing it. Marcus indicated the umbrella. "Oh, yeah, I see her now. Lying down. Too bad I can't see her melons." Marcus gave Jeremy a nod toward his son hoping the barbarian would get the message and tone it down.

Wilson did look down at the boy.

"Say there, Rick. How old are you?"

This time Rip frowned. "It's Rip! Not Rick! It's short for Euripides."

Wilson burst out laughing! "I'm sorry, Son. I'll remember next time. Eu-rip-id-es. Like, if you rippa dese pants, you looka da cock!" Sloan couldn't help smirking at that one. Something about his friend's crude humor always amused him.

Rip however wasn't sure he liked his name ridiculed. "I'm not wearing no pants."

"What? Well, I'll be damned, you sure ain't, Rip!" Then patting his hips and looking shocked, "Hey, I just noticed, I ain't got no pants either!"

That's all it took. Rip started giggling and knew he couldn't be mad at his dad's silly friend. "Nine!"

"What?"

"Nine. You asked me how old I was. I'm nine."

Jeremy looked at Marcus who confirmed it. "Yep, he's nine, going on thirty."

"Mr. Wilson? Er, I mean Dr. Wilson."

"Call me Jer, Rip, short for Jeremy."

"You wrote that book about boats, didn't you?"

Wilson dropped his jaw and stared at Rip's dad, who explained, "Yes, Rip, Dr. Jeremy Wilson wrote that book we have. He's the world's expert on Phoenician Shipping." Then turning to Wilson, "Rip is an avid reader. Reads anything he can get his hands on, and in our house that mainly means archeology texts."

"Well, now, Rip Sir. It is a pleasure to meet a fan." Once more they shook hands.

Rip stared up at the men but the conversation now turned to business. "So, Marcus, that was quite a shard we uncovered yesterday. What do you think it had written on it?"

"I haven't had a chance to work on it, Jeremy. But it's probably just a grocery list or something. Even that, though, would prove interesting. The writing is quite old. Maybe 4th century."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. And not your typical script. Maybe a local dialect. I'll be real interested in what you… What The Fuck!!!" Marcus looked down to see his son quickly pulling his hand away from his friend's crotch. For a moment the boy stared up at the men, frozen. His eyes began to water and he turned and raced back to his mother.

"Gee, Jeremy, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into the boy."

"Hey, man, don't worry. I'm sorry I yelled like that."

"Of course you yelled. He had no business grabbing your dick."

"Well, he didn't actually, I mean, I was just surprised is all." Jeremy gave his tool a little manual inspection. "See, it's still all there, Mark. No harm done. Hey, don't blame the boy. This is a fine piece of hardware. A lot of folks want to get their hands on it. Mainly of the female persuasion though."

"No, I mean it, Rip shouldn't be doing that. I'll have a word with him. Straighten him out."

"Please don't do anything…" But Sloan was already heading back to his wife and son.

Speaking to no one in particular, Sloan began to verbalize his thoughts. "What the hell possessed Rip to go touching another man's private parts. I tell you one thing, this is the last time we go to a nude beach. Where did he learn to do that? Demetrius, I bet, put him up to it. The homo. No telling what they've been doing every day. Some lessons, yeah. He's probably just like Andy's brother. The pedophile."

By the time he reached the blanket, Andrea was sitting up and glaring at him. Rip seemed to have calmed down enough to join his friends out in the water. But his father was not calm at all.

"That's it, Andrea. We're getting rid of the tutor. And we're not coming here any more. And I don't want to hear any more talk about visiting your brother. Come on, pack up, we're going home."

"Mark," she said quietly.

"What?!"

"Well, first of all, you're angry."

"Damn right I am."

"And second, you're wagging your penis right in my face."

"Oh, sorry." He plopped down on the blanket beside his wife. "It's just I'm so fucking mad."

"Rip was very upset. He came racing back here, bawling his head off. He just sat in my arms and sucked his thumb, and couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong."

"I'll tell you what he did. You won't believe it. He grabbed Wilson's dick. That's what he did."

"No, he didn't."

"What? He sure did. You weren't there. I saw it."

"No, honey, he didn't. All he did was pet Wilson's scrotum."

"Same thing! Anyway, how do you know? You weren't there!"

"I know."

"I'm sure that Demetrius has been teaching the kid this stuff."

"No, he didn't"

"Oh, yeah, everyone knows he's gay. That's what he did. He's teaching our son to be gay."

"No."

"What do you mean, No. Who else taught him then? You tell me who taught him to go touch another man's nuts like that? Who?

"You did."

"What?! What the fuck are you talking about."

"Settle down, Mark, and listen. Let me explain. Rip said he was standing there looking at Wilson's cock. I wish the kid would say penis. Anyway, he remembered the article you wrote."

"What article?"

"The one about the urn we uncovered our first season on Naxos. It depicted a youth between two men. The one man had his hand on the boy's shoulder seemingly encouraging him to fondle the other man."

"Yes, of course, but it was just a preliminary study. Rip read that article?"

"Of course, Mark. He reads everything. He read that you speculated the boy was an eromenos, and his erastes was instructing him in common courtesy. You compared the Naxos urn to other pottery like the amphora in Munich. Remember? Rip was just trying to be polite to Dr. Wilson, to do a nice thing."

"Yeah, but he should learn nowadays you don't walk up to perfect strangers and grab their dicks."

"It wasn't a stranger. Rip knew Jeremy was your friend. He watched you laugh at his jokes. He even remembered Jeremy's book on boats. Rip didn't want to insult your friend, Mark."

"If he still IS a friend. He probably figures we're raising a pervert."

"We are not, Honey. We're raising a caring, loving, gentle, open-minded young man. And we're not going to change a thing. We're not going to fire the tutor. And we're not going to stop coming to the beach. But you know what you are going to do?"

"What?"

"You're going to talk to Rip and let him know you think he did a very nice thing."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

.oOo.

By evening, Mark had cooled down and had even found it in himself to tell Rip he was sorry. He tried to explain that in modern days, men and boys don't do things the same as back in ancient Greece.

"I wish I lived back then, Dad."

"Really?"

"Well, no, 'cause if I did I wouldn't have you and Mom for my parents, and I love you guys lots."

"We love you too. But you know what, it would be cool if we all lived back then, right?"

"Yeah."

.oOo.

The next day at the dig, Marcus had a talk with Jeremy and explained what motivated his son.

"Shit, that is so fuckin' sweet, Man. I feel damn sorry I yelled at the kid."

"Well, I'd yell too if suddenly I felt fingers on my nuts."

"Yeah, I was surprised, but guess what, Marky, it actually felt pretty neat. Your boy has a real touch!"

"Get off it!!"

"I mean it."

Chapter 2
Rip Goes to a Funeral

Marcus answered the phone, "Oh, Hi, Jeremy."

"You guys busy? I'll call later if you want."

"We were just sitting down to dinner. But that's ok. I can talk. What's up?"

"Actually, I didn't want to talk to you, Marky. Give the phone to Euripides."

"Really? OK. Rip, come here please. It's Dr. Wilson. He wants to talk to you."

"Is he still mad at me?"

"No, Son. Don't worry."

"Hello, Mr. Wilson, er. Doctor…"

"It's Jer, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry I touched your balls yesterday, Mr., er, Jer."

"Don't be!"

"Huh?"

"Don't ever be sorry for being nice, young man. I was wrong. What you did was real nice."

"It was?"

"Yep, in fact it was the nicest thing anyone ever did to me all day! Really!"

"Wow."

"So, thank you, Euripides, for being such a polite young man."

"Uh, sure, I mean, you're welcome."

"And, Rip. Any time you see me, I want you to come right over and pet my nuts again, OK?"

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Uh, what if you got pants on next time?"

"Hmm, didn't think of that."

"I know what. We'll just rip 'em. You rippa dese pants, you looka da cock!"

Neither Mrs. Wilson on one end, or the Sloans on the other knew what had set off the two on the phone, but both were giggling uncontrollably as they hung up.

.oOo.

The rest of the Sloans' time in Greece that season was productive and enjoyable. The parents worked at the dig site through the week, while Rip spent his days with Cassandra, had his lessons with Demetrius, and his soccer practice with Alex. His team did very well, making it to the regional playoffs. On Sundays, unless it was raining, the family went to the beach where Rip could romp around in his birthday suit to his heart's content. Jeremy showed up regularly and Rip always dutifully and politely cupped the man's balls, while Jeremy tousled the boy's hair.

Once Cassandra got a phone call from Mrs. Sloan, that she had lost her dusting brush and wanted the spare one she kept at home. Demetrius offered to drive it over and Rip went along for the ride. He rarely saw his parents at work. The few times he went, he found it tediously boring. They never seemed to make much progress each day and a nine-year-old's impatience couldn't take it.

"Hi Mom, Hi Dad." Rip went over and hugged his parents, both full of dust and sweat.

"Hi Sweetie. Thanks a lot, Demetrius. You're a lifesaver," said Andrea taking the much awaited brush.

"Hey, there's Jer." Rip ran over to his new buddy and immediate reached between his legs.

"Hi there, Rip. Heh heh. Having a little trouble getting at my balls ain't you. Not like at the beach. Here, let's do this right." And with that, Dr. Jeremy Wilson dropped his pants and underwear so his little protégé could cup his balls properly. Marcus looked at them and shook his head. Andrea smiled. The other workers, all Greek locals, stopped their work and gawked. "You're a great kid, Rip. Thanks a lot, buddy." Wilson pulled up his drawers and once he was decent, swept little Rip up off the ground and set him on his shoulder where he could get a birds-eye view of the site. Wilson paraded him around, pointing out things he thought might interest the lad, and for his part, Rip, steeped in archeology textbooks, asked questions far too mature for a nine-year-old.

.oOo.

As their plane took off heading for the States, Rip asked his parents if Jeremy would be there the next year and was reassured he would. "Great."

Rip quickly made up the first four weeks of school he had missed, just as he had every other year. Teachers had always vied with each other to have this bright, enthusiastic, independent youngster in their class. This year, fifth grade, Mr. Schwartz won out.

One day, as Rip got off the bus, he noticed his parents waiting for him in the front yard. Usually they were busy all day writing in the basement office or teaching and going to meetings at the university. "Hi Mom. Hi Dad. What's up?"

"Come inside, Rip. We have some sad news." Suddenly worried, Rip followed his parents into the living room. "Grandma called this morning. You remember Gramps was real sick, right?"

"Yeah, sure, you mean he isn't going to get better?"

"No, Son, Gramps passed away last night." Rip's face showed his confusion.

"Your father means he died, Rip. Tomorrow we'll drive over to their town. The funeral is this Saturday."

"Am I going?"

"Yes, Rip, unless you don't think you want to. You can stay with one of the neighbors if you want."

"No, no, I want to go. I want to say goodbye to Gramps. Please?"

"Sure, Son. Grandma will like to see you. I think it'll do her good. You always were able to bring a smile to her face."

"And Uncle Malcolm, he'll be there too, right?"

"Of course," replied Andrea as Marcus turned to look out the window. "Malcolm and I were Gramps's only children. We both want to be with Grandma now."

"Good. I like Uncle Malcolm. Too bad we only see him on Thanksgiving."

Later, after Rip was tucked into bed, and they were alone in their bedroom, Andrea said to her husband, "You know he's right."

"Who, Rip? Right about what?"

"About Malcolm. It is too bad Rip only sees him maybe a couple times a year, when the whole family gets together, all of Mom's and Dad's siblings, all the second cousins. Rip should have some time with just his uncle. Malcolm's great with kids, you know."

"I know. That's what frightens me. I think it's better with a crowd around."

"For God's sake, Mark. What do you think my brother's going to do? Kidnap him? Lock him in a basement?"

"I don't know."

"The guy loves Rip. He'd never do anything to hurt him, and you know it."

"Yeah, but you know. His history."

"My brother loves little boys. So what? They love him too. He has a real way with them."

"Yeah, and it nearly put him in jail."

"Dammit, Mark. He was sixteen. He made a mistake. Can't you ever forget it?"

"Yeah, but that kid wasn't the last. He's had a whole parade of little boys going through his bedroom. And what is it now? He has two little brothers."

"Yeah, that's what I hear, but their parents are happy about it."

"Well, that's what Malcolm tells you."

"And my brother doesn't lie, Mark."

.oOo.

Marcus Sloan escorted his son into the funeral parlor, resting his fatherly hand on the boy's shoulder. The first hour was going to be only the family. Rip kissed his grandmother.

"Your dress is pretty, Nana." Sure enough, this innocent comment about her new black dress, brought a smile to her drawn face.

"Thank you, Euripides. You're the first one to even notice."

"I got a new suit. You like it, Nana? Mom says I should keep it clean for the funeral tomorrow."

"You look very handsome. Did you have a good trip?"

"Yeah, we saw three cows and a white horse and seven McDonalds and this guy in your town, well, I guess it was a guy, but he was wearing a dress."

"That's Jacob. He likes to wear dresses, Euripides. He's a good man. A loving husband and a great father. We always see him at the basketball games. Your mother went to school with him."

"Really, Mom?" Andrea nodded.

"Cool." Again, his grandmother smiled, having been taken out of her pool of despair, by a boy with a fresh young outlook on life.

"I want to say goodbye to Gramps now." Andrea sat beside her mother while Marcus brought his son over to the open casket.

"Dad, he looks like he's just sleeping."

"Yes, the funeral director works to make him look nice. But, you know, he's really dead, don't you, Rip?"

"Yeah, I know. But he was happy right?"

"Yes, Rip, Your grandfather lived a long, happy life. He had Nana, and your mother, and of course you were his only grandson. You all made him happy."

"And Uncle Malcolm. Don't forget him. He made Gramps happy too, right?"

"Yes, I guess so," Marcus mumbled.

"Does he have pants on?"

"What? Who?"

"Gramps. The cover hides his legs. You think he has pants on?"

Marcus almost lost it then. The momentary image of his half-naked brother-in-law quickly replaced by the ludicrous idea that his father-in-law was now lying barelegged in his coffin. "Yes, Rip, I'm sure Gramps is all dressed up for his trip to Heaven."

"Good." Assured that the old man was decent, Rip whispered, "Goodbye Gramps. Thanks for everything." Rip turned away from the coffin. "Hey, look, there's Uncle Malcolm."

He skipped back to the door, took his Uncle's hand and escorted him up front. "The family gets to sit here in the first row. That's my seat."

"Thank you, Rippy. Man, you are getting to be such a big boy. Hi, Sis. Good to see you. You too, Mark. Mom, sorry I'm late. I was on the phone with the boys and couldn't get away. You know how they are."

Marcus stood there slack-jawed. "The boys," he thought. "The guy talks about it so casually. And Mom knows 'how they are.' What, does he bring all his little love muffins to see her? The guy sure has balls."

Grandfather's brothers and sisters began to arrive with their children, and Rip listened as stories were related to illustrate that yes, the man did have a long and happy life. When he and his brothers used to sneak behind the barn to smoke cigarettes. When he ran the old Studebaker into the ditch and had to be pulled out by a girl in a Buick. When he'd take off work early to attend his children's school events. When he and Rip would conspire to play complicated practical jokes on the rest of the family at Thanksgiving, and when he would recite "Jest 'Fore Christmas" by heart. He would never truly be dead as long as there were loved ones keeping these happy memories alive.

Later came the friends and neighbors, the business associates, and the old schoolmates who traveled hours to bid their classmate farewell. Jacob arrived with his family, wearing a trim black dress.

And then the Johnson family walked in. Billy Johnson, age 12, his brother Joey, 10, followed by their parents. The boys politely shook hands with everyone in the front row, until they reached Malcolm, whom they kissed on the mouth. Marcus studied, but could not detect any sign of resentment on the parents' face. They took their seats in the back, but of course, the boys couldn't help fidgeting. The funeral director whispered something to their mother and the boys quickly ran out the door.

The director then came forward and spoke to the Sloans. "You have a fine boy here. Very well behaved. But sometimes, these events can be a bit trying for a youngster his age. We have a playground behind the building. The other boys are there now, and I thought perhaps your son might want to join them for a while."

"Do you want to do that, Rip?"

"Do you think Nana would mind?"

"No, not at all. You go and play a while. We'll be right here."

"OK, then."

"Here, give me your new suit jacket. And try to keep your pants clean, OK?"

"Sure, Mom."

Chapter 3
The Johnsons; Uncle Makes a List

The next day, after the funeral, as the Sloans' Plymouth waited in line for the entourage to wind its way over to the cemetery, Andrea said to her son, "I'm glad you kept your new clothes clean, Rip. Did you have fun playing with the Johnson brothers?"

"Yeah, they're cool. Actually we didn't play much 'cause they were told to stay clean also, but we talked lots. Mostly about Uncle Malcolm. They like him a lot. They told me all the neat stuff he does with them."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Really? like what?"

"Like playing baseball, and basketball, and tennis. You know, Uncle gives tennis lessons."

"Yes, I know."

"And they go camping and swimming. I never knew Uncle's got a cabin on this lake. They can swim there naked just like we do in Greece. And they go to shows and to the zoo and… well, I forgot all the other stuff."

"Shit," thought Marcus, "I was waiting to hear about 'the other stuff'."

Andrea patted her son, "That's real nice, Rip. I'm glad you got to spend time with them."

"They're in the car behind us, you know." Marcus looked in his rear view mirror. Sure enough, Malcolm had pulled in line behind his sister, and with him were all the Johnsons.

Gramps was laid to rest, as they say, and Rip tossed his rose in with all the others. As they walked back to their Plymouth, Mrs. Johnson approached Rip's mother. "Excuse me, I wanted to tell you again how sorry we feel about your father." Andrea thanked her. "My sons were wondering, they, you know played with your son yesterday and feel they have a new friend. He's a very nice boy. They were wondering if you could join us for lunch before you head back home."

"Well, that's kind of you, but we don't want to put you out."

"Really, it's no trouble. Please, for the boys?"

"Yeah, Mom, please. I want to see Billy and Joey again before we go home."

"Well, OK. If it really isn't a problem."

Three of the Johnsons got in the car with Malcolm to head back to the funeral home where they left their own car. Billy rode with the Sloans, as navigator to his house. He purposely took them on the long scenic route to give his parents time to get home first. He took them past the Racquet Club where Malcolm gave him and Tony tennis lessons. And he included Malcolm's home on the itinerary. The Sloans had never seen his home.

"My brother does have a beautiful home. The lawn is so neat."

"Thanks. Tony and me mow the lawn and weed the gardens."

Again, Marcus' eyes rolled. Shit, he's got his little sex slaves doing his yard work. Wonder if they clean his toilet bowl too. The gall.

They arrived at the Johnsons' home and had a delicious lunch. Billy and Tony took Rip up to their bedroom to play video games and the parents began to talk.

"I want to thank you, Mrs. Johnson, for coming to the funeral, with the boys. I know it meant a lot to my brother."

"There's nothing we wouldn't do for Malcolm. He has been so good to us."

"Oh?"

"He saved our marriage."

"Really?"

The Johnsons, holding hands, went on to explain how four years ago, Mrs. Johnson caught her husband having an affair with the secretary. They went for counseling, but the marriage was still strained. And the two boys felt it. Their grades fell dramatically. Billy was caught shoplifting. Tony started wetting the bed again. Unsure of whether they were about to lose one of both of their parents, they began disrespecting them. All this just added to the tension and strained the marriage still further.

When Malcolm, who was giving them tennis lessons, learned about their troubles, he offered to take them off their parents' hands for a Saturday. Give the couple time to themselves. He began to take the brothers every weekend. Oh, sure, the parents had heard rumors, but they liked the tennis teacher and decided to take him at face value.

Immediately, the brothers' grades improved, and the bed-wetting stopped soon after. And both boys began respecting their parents again. Through Malcolm's influence, they developed an ethic of hard work, a sense of confidence, and a consideration for other human beings. The Johnsons are very pleased with how their boys have matured in the last couple years. With this concern taken care of, and having time to themselves, the Johnsons began to seriously work on their marriage. It was almost as if they were newlyweds again.

Each week, when the boys came home, they reported in full everything they had done with Malcolm: working on their school reports, developing their backhand, helping to clean out a vacant lot, or simply going to the park for some fun. They told how, after a strenuous tennis lesson, they would sit on Malcolm's lap while he massaged their sore muscles and then how he kissed them, even on the mouth. The first time the boys stayed over at Malcolm's home, he first called the parents and explained that he would give them the choice of sleeping in his bed if they wanted and that he always slept nude. In fact, when they got up in the morning they would probably see a lot of him nude. The Johnsons saw nothing wrong with this. Nor did they see any problem later when the boys reported that they had indeed all slept together, and that all three spent the night and much of the morning naked. To these wise parents, this was a perfectly healthy way for boys to explore their prepubescent development.

Malcolm was always very straightforward with the Johnsons and insisted that the boys hide nothing from their parents. Even when the Johnsons found the accounts tediously detailed, they listened to every word. So it was no surprise to them when Billy and Tony learned about oral sex from Malcolm. When they asked if they could show their new skills off on their father, he laughed and said no thank you, but they went ahead and showed their parents by sucking each other off. That night, Mrs. Johnson was inspired to give her husband a blow job for the first time in fifteen years.

It was at the lakeside cabin that Malcolm was planning to introduce the boys to anal sex. Again, he went over everything with the parents ahead of time, explaining that he would use lots of lube to pluck their cherries, and would be very gentle with them. That if either boy was at all uncomfortable, he would stop. He gave them his latest test results that showed he was HIV–. Since he had never fucked anyone but young boys who had been virgins, he knew it was unlikely he could be positive but he had the test done to reassure the parents of all his young partners. The Johnsons knew Malcolm had never misled them before, so they agreed he could proceed with the ass fuck as long as the boys were ok with it. Malcolm, wanting the full support of the parents in this, gave them still another way out. He offered to limit the experience to intercrural sex, especially in the case of little Tony, explaining that then he would ejaculate between their tightly squeezed thighs, but not enter the anus. "Oh, the Princeton Rub," said Mr. Johnson and laughed. They gave this some thought, but finally said, that if both boys didn't object to penetration, they wouldn't either.

When Billy and Tony returned home that Sunday night, they were happy as clams. They told Mom and Dad all about the experience and even insisted on showing their holes to prove no permanent damage was done. Their parents were pleased that the boys had such a positive, loving introduction to sex. Mr. Johnson related his own first experience behind a store with a boy two years older that didn't know what the hell he was doing. "My hole was torn up bad. No, I'm glad my boys don't have that to remember." Mrs. Johnson added that the night after the boys proudly showed off their deflowered assholes, she offered her own ass to her husband.

Now, all these months later, the Johnsons could report to the Sloans, "Our marriage has never been healthier. We're a real family now. Thanks to your brother Malcolm."

"You don't worry that your boys will be fairies?" asked Marcus, realizing immediately he didn't word it right.

"From all that I know," Mr. Johnson explained, "no one can make a boy either gay or straight. You're just born one way or the other. But most little boys play same-sex games. Even before Billy and Tony began seeing Malcolm, they were already comparing their tiny penises, jerking together, and jerking each other. We all did stuff like that, didn't we, Dr. Sloan?" Mark silently thought about his own Boy Scout camping trips. Pleasant memories certainly. But he also remembered his own confusion afterward, when he felt he was carrying the burden of a deep dark secret.

Mrs. Johnson continued, "We know the parents of some of the other little boys Malcolm has had. We've talked with them. They're in the teens now of course, and most of them are heterosexuals with good, healthy raging hormones. They tell us they trust these boys to practice safe sex, and to always treat their dates with respect. Malcolm still welcomes all these older boys to his home. They get together and tell him about their lives and their plans. Of course, they are not interested in him sexually, and now in their mid-teens, Malcolm is not interested in them as sexual partners any more. They're just good friends. I know right now they feel real bad about Malcolm losing his father."

.oOo.

Later that week, around noon, Malcolm rang his sister's doorbell. He had called the night before to ask if he could drop by and talk with both her and Mark. He wanted to do it while Rip was in school. Fortified with coffee and peach cobbler, they sat around the kitchen table and Malcolm stated his proposal.

"I'm taking Billy and Tony to the lake this weekend. They asked me if Rippy could come also. They liked meeting Rippy at the funeral and playing with him and talking with him. I told them I couldn't promise anything, but I'd ask his parents. So that's what I'm doing. Mark, I know how awkward you feel around me…"

"It's that obvious, eh?"

"But you have to realize I love my nephew and would never do anything to jeopardize his love for me."

"You're probably right."

"What my husband is trying to say, is sure, Mal, we think it's a wonderful idea."

"We do? Ouch, you kicked me."

"Look, I promise you. Rippy won't be doing any intercourse, oral or anal. I swear. I just want to get to know him better. We'll spell out all the ground rules. I'll abide by all your wishes. Here's a piece of paper. I'll take notes."

Malcolm then sat in silence, steeling himself for Marcus's interrogation. "You'll be naked?"

"Of course, he'll be naked, and so will all the boys," Andrea said before her brother could answer. "You know how comfortable Rip is playing naked outdoors or in. Mal, naked is fine."

Malcolm wrote "naked ok."

"Touching?"

"Hell, what's wrong with you, Mark? Of course. You can't expect Malcolm not to touch his own nephew for two days. Sure, Mal, you can touch him anywhere, even his penis, scrotum and buttocks."

"Unless he feels uncomfortable," interjected Marcus.

"Which he won't," assured Andrea.

Malcolm wrote, "touching ok."

"But I mean like jacking off."

"He means masturbation, Mal."

Malcolm broke his silence. "Don't you ever jack off with your son?"

"Hell, no."

"Too bad. It's a wonderful way for a father and son to bond. It shows the boy that there's nothing wrong with doing it."

"We've taught him that it's ok to masturbate. He knows that."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to raise your son, Mark, but you'd be doing him a big favor if you showed him that you jack off too. At school he's going to hear all sorts of nonsense about jacking being only for losers who can't get a girl into bed. He's going to think it's something shameful, no matter what you taught him, unless you show him as well."

"Yeah, well, you never raised a son, did you?"

"No, but I was a son, Mark. It's one of my precious memories of my father."

"What? You mean you and him?"

"We jacked off together often." Marcus pictured the old guy in the coffin. Maybe Rip was right. Maybe he wasn't wearing any pants after all.

"You're absolutely right, Brother. Mark and I agree, write it down, 'masturbation ok.'" Malcolm was silent again, but Marcus wasn't.

"Kissing?"

"Yes, kissing is fine too. Write it down, Mal."

"I meant kissing like you know, on the lips."

"For God's sake, Mark, we all know what you mean. Go on, Mal, write it."

He wrote, "kissing ok. On lips ok."

"But no sucking and no fucking. You said so yourself. Really, I don't think Rip is ready for that. I'm putting my foot down on that point."

Malcolm spoke again. "I agree, Mark. I don't think Rippy is ready either. Yet. I'm writing it down. 'BJ NOT ok.' 'Ass fuck NOT ok.' I have to say though I can't promise you he might not witness some sucking going on. That's one thing Billy and Tony really love to do."

"Mark and me are fine with that, Mal. He's nine years old. Lots of boys his age have already seen some oral sex. Hell, for all I know, Rip has already seen me sucking Mark."

"What? You think he's seen that. I try to make sure he's sound asleep before we have sex, Andy."

"I don't know if he's seen us do it or not, but there's nothing wrong if Rip sees Mal and the boys do it. Hell, there's nothing wrong if he even sees some anal intercourse." Malcolm wrote "witness ok."

Chapter 4
Rip's Report

Rip got off the school bus and immediately saw his uncle's car in the driveway. Worried, he raced to the house. "What's wrong? Why is Uncle here? Did something happen to Nana?"

"Calm down, Rip. Nothing's wrong with Nana. Nobody's sick. Nobody died. My brother just wanted to talk to us about something."

"Hi, Uncle Malcolm." Rip was visibly relieved.

"Hey, Rippy."

"Rip, Daddy has something to tell you."

Marcus glared at Andrea and thought, Why do I have to be the one to tell him? What a sneaky bitch she is.

"Really? What is it Dad? A surprise? Tell me."

"Yes, Son, it's a really, uhm, nice surprise. This weekend, Uncle Malcolm is taking you up to his cabin on the lake."

"Wow!! Really? Wow!! That's super." Rip ran over and planted a juicy kiss on his uncle's lips just as he'd seen Billy and Tony do. "Thanks a lot, Uncle Malcolm. You're the greatest uncle I got." Everyone laughed. Marcus had two sisters but Malcolm was Rip's ONLY Uncle. "Hey, will Billy and Tony be there, too? Please? I like them lots. They're fun to play with."

"Not only will they be there, Rippy, they were the ones who told me to invite you."

"No shit! Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to say that." Andrea thought to herself, he meant to say excrement.

.oOo.

The Sloans stepped out on to the porch as they saw Malcolm's car pull up Sunday evening, in time to notice their son slipping his shirt on. Still buttoning up, Rip jumped out of the car and ran to them, hugging each one around the neck. Andrea went over to her brother while Marcus whispered to Rip, "Zip up your fly, Son."

"Please come in and have a cup of coffee, Mal."

"Would love to, Sis, but I got a long drive ahead of me." He handed over Rip's backpack. "You got a wonderful boy, Sis. I think he had a good time. I hope so."

"I'm sure he did. He's got a wonderful Uncle."

"I told him to tell you all about it."

"We're looking forward to hearing his story. We have nothing else planned for the evening. Heh heh."

"Good. Well, I'll be going then."

Andrea kissed her brother on the cheek and he shifted into reverse. "Wait!" Rip shouted, running over to the driver's window beside his mother. Standing on tip toes, he reached up and kissed his uncle on the mouth.

Settled around the kitchen table, their son fortified with cookies and milk, the Sloans listened to the tale of the weekend with Uncle Malcolm.

"It was like so cool. Let's see I got so much to tell you. I like better start at the beginning I guess." The parents nodded. "I got into Uncle's car at the rest stop, you know." Early Saturday morning, the Sloans had driven and met Malcolm halfway to save him part of the long trip. "So then we drove and he asked me all about school and stuff and Greece and stuff and soccer and stuff. And he's really nice. Well, you know that.

"And then we picked up Billy and Tony and when they came running out they ran over and kissed Uncle and then climbed in the back seat and told me to get in the back with them and Uncle nodded so I did. And we all waved goodbye to Mrs. Johnson and headed for the lake. And right away Billy and Tony took off all their clothes. Well, not their sneakers. So I did that too. And we like punched each other and played while Uncle drove. I like Billy and Tony. It was like playing with my friends on the naked beach in Greece. Anyway, we played games and sang songs and counted the dead cats and stuff.

"And when we got to the lake, Shit. Sorry. But it was fantastic. Uncle's cabin is all by itself. Ain't nobody anywhere around. He stopped the car and I grabbed my clothes but Tony said no, leave them in the car. So I just took my backpack and we all climbed out. Then Uncle stood there and let Billy and Tony take off HIS clothes. When they was almost done, he told me to come over and take off his undies. So I did and then he was naked just like us. Well, we all kept our shoes on. Dad, I don't think Uncle's cock is as big as yours. It's nice, though.

"Then we unloaded the groceries and stuff from the car and brought them inside. Then Tony took me and showed me all around, the bedroom, the big bed, the bathroom, the big shower, the kitchen, the fridge with all kinds of good stuff, the main room, the jigsaw puzzle, Uncle don't have a TV there. And outside there's the porch, and hot tub, and barbecue. Then he took me down to the dock and the beach and the trail into the woods and the flagpole and all around. It's a cool place, Dad. Can I have some more cookies, Mom?

"When we got back to the cabin, I hear Billy making like moaning noises inside, so I look in the window and I see Billy laying on the couch and Uncle is like over him and Billy's feet is like on Uncle's shoulders and Uncle's dick is like going in Billy's asshole. And Uncle looks real happy and Billy does too. And Tony says to me, he's fucking him. And then we see this deer and it walked right across in front of the cabin and it was neat.

"And Uncle and Billy come out and join us on the porch and Uncle asks how I like his place and I tell him it's cool and while we talk Tony is rubbing Uncle's dick 'cause it was still like greasy. So I tell them all about the urn you guys found and how the boys in Greece played with the men's cocks in the old days and it was impolite not to, and how I did that to Jeremy and how he yelled and how later he said it was ok and then I did it a lot, and Uncle and Billy and Tony liked that story and for the rest of the weekend, we all pretended we was in Greece and touched each other's cocks and balls and stuff.

"And for lunch, Uncle made hot dogs out on the barbecue. I ate three. And Billy and Tony each ate four. And Billy tells me Tony won the hot dog eating contest at the Nama picnic. And I said wow. And Tony says he ate 14½ and that was the most of anybody. And Uncle said in his age range. So Tony got a blue ribbon."

"What's a Nama picnic, Son?"

"Yeah, I asked them that. And they says it's this big club, just for men and boys."

"Do you mean NAMBLA, Honey?"

"Yeah, Mom, I think that was it. Funny name."

"It's the North American Man Boy Love Association."

"Yeah, then that must be it. They said they got lots of boys there, some our age and older boys too. And they said they do lots of swell stuff in the club. They go on picnics and hiking trips and they take buses places like puppet shows and theme parks and stuff. And they said it's tons of fun. Next Summer, Uncle might take them to Disney World."

"So, then after lunch, Tony washes the dishes. Everybody has jobs to do at the cabin. Uncle cooks. Tony washes the dishes and sets the table. Billy sweeps and takes the garbage out. That's important 'cause you can't let the raccoons and bears get it. And my jobs was to make the beds, which was easy 'cause we all slept in the same bed, and it was only one night. And my other job was to keep putting clean towels on all the chairs and couch, anywhere we sit with our bare asses. I was busy all weekend doing that.

"And Billy says to me, wanta go swimming and I said sure. And I says to Tony let's go. And he says I'll be there soon. And Billy and me start down to the lake and I says why didn't Tony come, he doesn't like to swim? And Billy says no, he does, but he wanted to fuck with Uncle first. And I stopped and said really? And I said I wanted to watch. And Billy said ok. So we went back in the cabin and they was in the bedroom so we went in and watched them. And Uncle was sitting on the bed and Tony was on his knees and he was sucking on Uncle's cock. And Uncle smiled at us. So I got some towels and we sat down on the floor and watched them. And when Tony stopped sucking, Uncle's cock was big. So then Tony got up on the bed but Uncle didn't fuck him the way he fucked Billy. Tony got on his hands and knees on the bed, and Uncle opens this tube of stuff and puts lots of it on his fingers and pokes it into Tony's asshole and rubs it around and then I see why Uncle's cock was all greasy. Then Uncle stands behind Tony and holds his little ass in his hands. You know Tony is smaller than me. He's a year older but he's still smaller. So Uncle holds his little ass in his hands and puts his big cock right against Tony's hole. And I see Tony scrunching up his face like he knows what's coming next and Uncle pushes and his cock pops into Tony's hole and I'm surprised it fit in there and Tony is making noises now like 'Ahhhh Ahhhh.' And I ask Billy does it hurt and he says not really that it's like tight but it feels nice. And I say ok. And Uncle he's going like in and out and in and out and suddenly he gets like all stiff, like he's frozen and his face is all scrunched up too. And then he says, 'Oh Yeah,' and I think he's putting something into Tony's ass and then he pulls his cock out and it's like small again. And he picks Tony up and gives him a big hug and kisses him and tells him he loves him. And I see stuff dripping out of Tony's hole And Tony says let's go swimming and Uncle says last one in is a faggot so we all go running to the lake and jump in. And Uncle he's the last one so we call him faggot.

"And we swam a lot. Uncle has a float and we swam to it. And Uncle got a ball. And we stood on the float and took turns. Uncle throws the ball and we got to jump off the float and catch the ball before we hit the water and throw it back to him. And it was fun. And we was all tired after that. And we went back up to the cabin and dried off and we worked on the jigsaw puzzle and we jerked off while we did that. And talked about stuff. And I asked lots of questions about fucking so now I know all about it. And we keep on jerking and we did pretty good on the puzzle. We got the whole edge done that time. And we all got stiffies now and I ask Uncle how big his is. And he tells me where he keeps the ruler so I get it and I measure his cock and it's 5 inches [12½ cm]. Then I measure my stiffy and it's about an inch and a quarter [3 cm], and Tony's was only an inch [2½ cm] but Billy's was two inches [5 cm]. And Uncle says if they keep sucking each other it will help them grow. Is that true, Dad?"

"I'm not sure, Rip."

"How big is your stiffy, Dad? As big as Uncle's?"

"Bigger."

"I thought so. I'm gonna measure it some time, OK, Dad? Well, anyway, I'm sitting now with Uncle on the couch and Billy and Tony are still doing the puzzle, and I see this water stuff on Uncle's cock but it ain't piss, it kind of oozes down his cock and then suddenly he shoots this white stuff out and it goes all over his belly. And Billy says 'Good One, Malcolm.' And I says what was that stuff. And Uncle calls it Cum and Billy calls it Splooge and Tony calls it Jizz and I ask what I should call it and Uncle says Spunk so that's what I call it. I guess it's got lots of names." Andrea thought to herself 'semen', but let her son continue.

"And Uncle says he's going to shower before supper and he asks if anyone wants to help him, and Billy and Tony say no they're busy doing the puzzle. So I said I'll help so we get in the shower and it's fun taking a shower with someone. Can I take a shower with you sometime, Dad? Uncle takes the soap and cloth and washes me all over especially my cock and nuts and asshole. And then I take it and wash him, well, the parts I can reach anyway, like not his shoulders or stuff. And I wash his belly where all the spunk is dried on, and I wash his cock and it almost starts to grow big again. And when I wash his ass he tells me to really push the cloth up in his hole so he gets it nice and clean and so I do. And he says I did it good.

"And we get dried again and Uncle starts working on supper. And I join Tony and Billy again and work on the puzzle and jerk some more and I says do you two suck each other like Uncle said? And they said sure. Watch. And they laid on the couch in opposite directions so their mouths was on each others peepees and they suck them and it looked like fun but I didn't try it. And when they got done their peepees was real stiff and all covered in spit but I don't think they was any bigger.

"And we ate pork chops and mashed potatoes and green beans and bread and Jell-O and ice tea and apple pie. And then Uncle started a fire in the fire place and we all sat there and he told us ghost stories. Tony sat on Uncle's lap and Billy and me was on each side and when Uncle got to the scary parts, we all hugged each other and screamed. And Uncle made hot cocoa and we went to bed.

"Uncle slept in the middle and we all wanted to sleep beside him but he only had two sides so Billy was a sport and let me and Tony sleep next to Uncle and Billy scrooched up behind me and I could feel his peepee in my crack. You know, I like sleeping with other people. It's nice. I guess you know that 'cause you two sleep together.

"And when I got up this morning, everyone else was up already. So I made the bed and went out and I see Billy working on the puzzle and I guess Uncle is in the kitchen making breakfast so I go in and Uncle is standing there and Tony has his arms around Uncle's neck and his legs around Uncle's waist and Uncle is fucking him standing up. And I say you sure know a lot of different ways to fuck. And Uncle smiles at me.

"So I grab a banana and go back to Billy and I ask him if Uncle fucks him standing up too. And he says he used to but he got too big. Uncle says he chokes him too hard. You got to be light for Uncle to fuck you like that. And I says like Tony. And he says yeah and like you. And after a while Tony comes out and leans over the puzzle with us and I see his asshole is greasy and leaking spunk but he don't care. And we hear Uncle in the kitchen making breakfast and he calls us and we have eggs, toast, sausage, juice, apples, bananas, and Billy and Uncle drink coffee and Uncle asks if I want coffee but I take milk with Tony.

"And Uncle says let's take a bath. And they say Yay. And Uncle gets soap and cloths and towels and we go outside. And it's cold out there. But Uncle goes to the hot tub and takes off the cover and we all climb in and it's nice and hot. And it's big enough for all of us. And we sit and everyone washes the dicks of the guys beside him. I was between Uncle and Tony. And they washed my dick too. And I think it's neat all taking a bath together. Isn't that a cool idea, Mom?"

"They did that back in Ancient Greece."

"Really?"

"Yes, Rip. They called them the Baths, but they were like big indoor swimming pools and they had fresh hot water piped in, and all the men in the town would bathe together."

"Wow. Yeah, I remember, you wrote about that in the article, Dad. Some dude was on his way to the baths when his friend's boy friend wouldn't let him touch his dick and he got all insulted, right?"

"You got a good memory, Rip. But get on with your story. You can't stay up all night talking. You got school tomorrow."

"Yeah, OK. I'll speed it up then. So we got out of the hot tub and we was cold again and we ran into the cabin and dried off and Uncle lit the fireplace again. And we did the puzzle. We almost got it all done 'cept for the sky. That was hard 'cause all the pieces was the same color. And Uncle helped us then. And then he went to make lunch. Soup and sandwiches and cake. The hot soup was good.

"And after lunch it was still too cold to go swimming, so Tony said let's take a hike. And Billy said yeah. And I said Brrrr. And Uncle laughed and went in the bedroom and got four pairs of sweatpants and four sweatshirts and we put them on and then we went out and it didn't feel so cold. And we went on a long hike in the woods and we seen mouses and snakes and chick-dees what eat right out of your hand and turtles and slugs and spiders and lotsa cool stuff. And Tony yells out Malcolm's got a tent. And I knew Uncle didn't bring a tent along on our hike, so I said no he doesn't. And they all laugh and Billy points to Uncle's pants and the front is all sticking out and shit, it looked like a tent. And Tony says you want us to suck it? And Uncle says that'll be nice so he pulls down the front of his sweatpants and Tony starts sucking his nuts and Billy starts sucking his cock and then they switch off and they keep doing that. And I just stood and jerked and Uncle smiled at me. And after a while Uncle grunts I'm gonna cum. And Tony says do my face please. So Uncle sprays his spunk all over Tony's face and he looked so funny but he said it felt good and then we hiked some more and soon Tony's face was covered in dried spunk. And he even looked funnier. And Uncle says to me I look tired and I say yeah is it much further? And he picks me up and gives me a piggy back ride for a while. And we all start singing Hi Ho Hi Ho.

"And when we get back to the cabin we is all tired so we take off our sweats and get into bed for a nap. And Uncle lays beside me and we is kissing and he says I'm a good nephew and I says he's a good Uncle and Billy is sucking Uncle's cock but not real hard just sort of lazy like, and Tony is sucking Billy's cock but he fell asleep with it in his mouth. And I think maybe I fell asleep too.

"And then we got up and Uncle made pizza for supper. And he wanted us to eat all the leftovers so he wouldn't have to bring food home. But he did pack some stuff that was left. And I got all the dirty towels and put them in a laundry bag. And Tony put away the dishes. And Billy swept the floor. And we packed up the trunk. And then Uncle put some clothes on and we got in the car, and there was our clothes where we left them on the car floor. But we didn't get dressed yet. And Uncle checked everything one more time. And then we drove away and I said goodbye cabin. See you next time. And we was kinda too tired to sing or play or nothing so we just sat and looked out the windows.

"And we got to the Johnsons' House. But Tony was fast asleep so Uncle carried him up to the door and gave Mr. Johnson his naked boy and Billy followed dragging his clothes and his brothers' clothes. He waved to me and then gave Uncle a big kiss and then shut the door. And Uncle said I could sit in the front seat now so I did and it was a long drive and he had to stop for gas but we got here. And now can I please go to bed?"

"Yes, Sweetie, you told a wonderful story. We're glad you had such a good time. I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in."

"Goodnight, Dad." Rip went over and kissed his father on the mouth for the first time ever, and disappeared down the hall.

Chapter 5
Father and Son Bond; Thanksgiving

"I'm proud of you, Marcus."

"What? Why did you say that?"

"I know how hard it was for you to listen to all that. I saw you clenching your teeth more than once. But you worked hard not to show your feelings to Rip. He was so excited about being with his Uncle this weekend and you didn't do anything to destroy that excitement. That's why I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, well, it's going to take some getting used to. But the kid does seem to be well-adjusted. I'm just glad he wasn't traumatized by what he saw."

"So, it's fine with you for Rip to visit his Uncle every so often."

"Yeah, well, he likes playing with those Johnson brothers."

"No, I mean to visit Mal by himself. You heard him, Marcus. He was jealous of those boys."

"He was? He never said…"

"You have to read between the lines, you idiot. Mal is his only Uncle and he had to share him with two other little boys. I want him to spend some quality time with Malcolm alone."

"Well, yeah, but, well, I guess he did stick to the contract."

"Yes, that's another thing. I think we can ease up on all the rules. I trust my brother. And I trust Rip. If the kid wants to do some of the other things he saw, hell, so what."

"But."

"No buts."

"But what if he tears the kid's hole? Rip's just a little boy."

"Honey, not every man is as well endowed as you, Big Boy."

"Rip did say he was only 5 inches [12½ cm]."

"And skinny too."

"Rip didn't say that."

"No, I said it. My brother's penis is like a pencil.'

"You've seen it?"

"Yes, Honey, I've seen it. And I'm quite sure Rip can handle it if he wants."

"Well, Shit."

"Excrement, dear."

"But, it's incest for God's sake."

"Oh, Mark, it's not like they're going to create any two-headed babies. Come on. Let me go up and tuck our little boy in and then why don't you show me what you can do with your manhood, Big Boy."

"You sure know how to win an argument."

.oOo.

A few days later, Rip went down in the basement. "Hi, Mom, whatcha doing?"

"I think it's pretty obvious, Rip. I'm washing clothes."

"Oh, yeah. Do you know where that tennis racket is?"

"That old thing? It's probably down here somewhere. Look around."

"Yeah, I will. I wish we lived nearer to Uncle Malcolm. Then he could give me tennis lessons."

"That's right. I understand he's an excellent teacher."

"Oh well, I'll find it another time. Bye, Mom." Rip headed out and passed his father's study. "Hi, Dad."

"Come in here, Son. I want to ask you something."

"Sure, Dad. What is it?"

"You feel like jerking with me?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you like to jerk with your Uncle and with Billy and Tony. I wondered if you wanted to jerk with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"That'll be so cool. Sure." Rip took off his pants and underpants and Marcus stood up from his desk and went to the couch. He opened his fly and pulled out his cock. "No, Dad, that's no good. Here. Let me take your pants off." Before Marcus could argue, his son was pulling his pants down his legs and then removing his boxers. "There. OK. Let's sit down now."

Side by side, father and son went to town on their penises. Rip was grinning from ear to ear that he was finally getting to do this with his Dad. For his part, Marcus felt a wave of pride come over him, both pride in his wonderful son and also pride in himself for having made such personal progress since Rip came home from the lake.

"You got stiff real fast, Son."

"Yeah, sometimes it just pops right up. I don't know why."

"Get used to it, Son. In a few years, it's going to be doing that a lot."

"Really?"

"You know you've got quite a nice little nail there."

"Thanks Dad. You can touch it if you want. I don't mind."

"Well, thank you, Son. Don't mind if I do. Yes sir, that's a fine dick if I ever saw one."

"He he. Yours is getting big now too, Dad."

"Thanks, Son. You can touch it if you want. I don't mind." Rip abandoned his own erect penis and began to explore his father's huge manhood with both hands.

"It sure is big, Dad."

"I know. You want to measure it?" Rip jumped up and got the ruler out of the desk.

"This is how Uncle showed me to do it. OK, let's see. Seven [18 cm], no, more, Seven and a half [19 cm], Seven and 5/8 inches [19½ cm]. Wow! Yours is way bigger than Uncle's."

"I thought so."

"And fatter too."

"Yeah?"

Rip strained to get his little fingers all the way around his father's penis, but couldn't. "Yeah. I don't think you could get yours into Tony's little asshole."

"That's OK. I really wasn't planning on it."

"Hi, Mom. Me and Dad is jerking each other."

"It's Masturbating, Rip. And that's very nice. You two men enjoy yourselves. I have to start work on dinner. See you later, Boys." She threw them two towels still warm from the dryer to sit on.

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye, Honey.… Son, let's just sit here quietly and jerk each other, OK?"

"Sure, Dad.… This is fun.… Can we do this lots?… Uh, Dad?… Dad?"

"What is it, my boy?"

"Your cock is oozing that stuff. It's making my fingers all sticky."

"Precum, Rip."

"Does that mean you're going to make spunk, Dad?"

"I sure am, Son."

"Cool.… When?"

"Now."

"Wow!!!… Dad, that's awesome!… You finished yet?"

"Not yet, here's some more."

"Oh, Wow!!! You make tons of spunk, Dad. It's all over your stomach and in all your cock hair and there's a pool in your belly button. He he. You're a mess, Dad!" Rip ran his finger over the softening shaft and licked it. "So that's what it tastes like. I was wondering." Marcus's eyes were now closed so he didn't notice his son leaning over, tongue poised to lap up the navel pool."

"Whoa, that tickles!!" Marcus instinctively reached and pushed his son's face down onto his cum-laden abs. "Oops, sorry, Son." Rip looked up at his father and they both laughed. "Now, who's a mess?"

"I must look like Tony now, he he."

"Come on, let's go take a shower."

"Together?"

"Of course, Son."

"Cool." Rip grabbed his undies off the floor.

"Forget the pants, young man. We're men and this is our house. If we want to parade through it just like this, who's going to fuckin' stop us."

"Yeah!"

Rip took his father's hand and they marched up the stairs, one with glistening pubes, the other with glistening face. "Hi, Mom. Me and Dad are gonna take a shower before supper."

"Yep, you need it."

"OK, Mom, see you later."

"See you later, my two handsome horny hunks."

.oOo.

One day after school, Rip looked up from his homework. "Hey, Mom, are we still going to Nana's for Thanksgiving?"

"Of course, Rip. We go every year."

"I know, but it won't be the same without Gramps."

"You're right. We'll all miss him. But everyone else will be there. Nana, and Nana's sister and her family, and Grandfather's two brothers and all their kids' families."

"And Uncle Malcolm."

"Of course, Uncle Malcolm will be there. And Aunt Sylvia, Aunt Heather and Aunt Flo."

"Who are they? I mean I know who they are but how am I related to them?"

"Sylvia and Heather are your father's two sisters. We're the only family they have, so Nana always welcomed them at her house."

"Why don't they don't have any kids?"

"Sylvia was married a long time ago, but they were divorced and she's been single ever since. And Heather is a lesbian."

"What does that mean?"

"She never wanted to marry a man. She lives with a girl friend instead."

"No she don't. She lives with Aunt Flo."

"That's right. Aunt Heather and Aunt Flo are lovers. They've been together longer than your Dad and I. Aunt Flo isn't your biological aunt, but we like to call her Aunt anyway."

"They don't like me."

"What? Of course, they like you. You're their nephew. All three of them like you. But I think I know what you mean. It's hard for them to show it. They never had any children. They aren't used to having little boys around. They don't know how to talk to you. But they still love you."

"OK.… Uncle Malcolm never had kids either but he knows how to talk to boys."

"Yes, your Uncle is wonderful with boys."

"Will Billy and Tony be there?"

"Where? Oh, at Nana's? No, sweetie. They have their own family. Maybe they go to their grandmother's house. I don't know."

"If they go away, Uncle will be lonely."

"Yes he will.… Just a minute. I think I know what you're hinting at."

"What?"

"You'd like to go home with Malcolm after Thanksgiving dinner is over."

"Wow, Mom, could I?"

"Well, that's not up to us, Rip. Malcolm hasn't invited you. He might have other plans."

"Could you ask him, please? Could you?"

.oOo.

"Wow, that was a delicious turkey dinner. I am stuffed!" Malcolm told his nephew as they pulled out of Nana's driveway.

"Me too, Uncle. My pants are tight now."

"Well, then, take them off, Rippy. You know you don't need to wear pants in my car.… There, doesn't that feel better?"

"Yeah, Man. That's great. It's not very far to your house. Billy showed us where you live. After Gramps' funeral."

They went on to evaluate all the different dishes at the dinner, giving each one their personal ratings.

"We're almost there."

"I better put my pants back on then. It's too cold to walk bare-assed to your door."

"No need, Rippy. Watch this," Malcolm said, as he drove up his driveway. "Open Sesame."

"Wow. The door opened up. That's neat. He he. But I saw you push that button up there."

"You are way too smart for me. I can't pull anything over on you, Rippy." Inside the garage, Malcolm pressed the button again and the door closed.

"Close, Sesame. He he."

"Come on, fat boy, let's go inside. I'll show you around."

"Neat." Malcolm gave Rip the Cook's Tour. Laundry room. Kitchen. Spare bedroom. Extra bath. Dining room. Living room, with TV. Master bedroom. Master Bath.

"I don't gotta sleep in the spare bedroom do I?"

"You want to sleep with me?"

"You bet."

"OK, Rippy. You're the boss."

"I'm the boss?"

"Yep. What's my assignment, Boss?"

"Take off your pants."

"You're right. They are way too tight after all of Nana's cooking. Come on, let's take all our clothes off. I'll put up the heat.… You hungry?"

"No way!"

"'Cause Nana gave me two big bags filled with leftovers. Guess we'll just save them for tomorrow."

"Yeah.… Where are your towels, Uncle?"

"Why, in the linen closet over there. Oh, I remember. At the cabin."

"Yep. That's my job. Keep putting towels down wherever you and me sit."

"OK, Rippy. Go get one towel."

"Just one?"

"Yes, just one for now.… Put it on that big chair over there.… Good."

"Hey, you sat on it. Now I got nowhere to sit."

"Hmm, you're right. There's no towels on any of the other chairs. Hmm. Well, I guess you're just going to have to sit here on my lap, Rippy."

"You tricked me, Uncle."

"You don't want to sit on my lap?"

"Yeah, I do. Really. I want to do lots of stuff with you, Uncle."

"That's good, 'cause I sure want to do lots of stuff with you, Rippy."

"And you know what Dad said?"

"What?"

"He said not to worry about doing anything wrong. That whatever we do, as long as we both want to do it, it's ok with him. Ain't that cool?" Rip put his arms around Malcolm's neck, gave him a long lingering kiss on the mouth, and felt a hardening underneath his naked ass.

"That's super cool, Rippy."

Chapter 6
The Photo Album

After a lunch of leftovers on Friday, Uncle got a phone call. "Well, we better put some clothes on, Rippy."

"Aww, do we have to, why?"

"Company's coming over."

"Really, who?"

"Jason." They traipsed into the bedroom and started getting decent while Uncle explained. "Jason was one of my lover boys, for about two years, 'til he was twelve. A wonderful kid. He's sixteen now and he wanted to come by to say hi."

"But then why do we gotta put clothes on. He's seen you naked. And he's one of your lovers."

"No, he was my lover. When he reached puberty,…"

"What's that?"

"When he got old enough to make cum… spunk… then he wasn't interested in the stuff we did any more and I wasn't attracted to him that way any more either. So now we're just good friends. And anyway, he's bringing his girl friend with him."

"Oh, well, then we better get dressed. He he."

Two hours later, after Jason and Maryanne left, and Rip and Malcolm got comfortable again, Rip asked, "how many boy lovers have you had, Uncle?"

"Seven, Rip. You see that photograph album over there? Bring it here and I'll tell you all about them."

One by one, Malcolm recounted each story, each wonderful little lad who brought such joy into his life.

1 - Philip
"Hey, this picture is at Nana's house."

"Yes, I was living at home then. I was still in high school."

Philip lived down the street from the Sloanes and dropped in nearly every day after school. He loved getting the attentions of a lad four years older. Malcolm was old enough to be a real man. But young enough to talk with, play with, be friends with. Malcolm's parents were busy with preparations for Andrea's upcoming wedding, and didn't pay much heed to what their son was doing. Philip and Malcolm were exhilarated by this seeming freedom and explored all the possibilities of their little secret. Philip started sleeping over on weekends and they even went camping together. Desperately seeking puberty, Philip hoped some of Malcolm's studly manliness would rub off on him. Maybe if he absorbed enough cum, through all his orifices, he'd start producing his own. Eventually, his parents got suspicious and confronted their son. Scared to death, he tearfully 'fessed up. They called Malcolm's parents and threatened taking the pervert to court. Philip begged them not to, and on the condition that he never see Malcolm again, the parents acquiesced. He sacrificed his own pleasure for the sake of his lover. Malcolm went for therapy, and he hoped Philip did also, but he never heard from the boy again. Not even a postcard. Let's see, Philip would be about 25 now. Married perhaps. Who knows?

2 - Jason
"Where's this picture? I don't recognize this room? That looks like a nice little boy. He looks familiar. Do I know him?"

"That was before I bought this house. I had an apartment. And yes, that's Jason, the kid who was just here with Maryanne."

"Oh yeah. Now I see."

Malcolm was burned once and he knew he could never risk getting caught again. He was super cautious, resisting the temptations of hundreds of young beautiful boys he met as he went on to college. He had a few affairs with classmates, but nothing gave him the sexual satisfaction he had found with Philip. He even considered celibacy; he studied Roman Catholicism and was thinking of converting and becoming a priest. But he knew his urges were strong and needed to find release.

After a long hiatus, Malcolm discovered a local chapter of NAMBLA. Perhaps these men could help him, if he was ever going to love another boy like Philip. He was met with suspicion when he first began showing up at meetings. NAMBLA members are naturally guarded around strangers. However, Mr. Washburn, the chapter president saw something in Malcolm. They began going to each other's apartments for coffee and friendly conversation. Washburn found Malcolm forthright about his past difficulties, and determined not to get in trouble again. He admired his earnestness and amiability. Malcolm frankly admitted that, unlike the other chapter members with their teenage lovers, his own proclivities leaned toward prepubescent boys. Washburn knew this would make it all the more difficult for Malcolm to find fulfillment. Little boys were notoriously indiscreet when it came to keeping secrets. Furthermore, the younger the boy is, the greater the opprobrium with which society treats such love. Malcolm's naïve fantasy was that he would one day find an open-minded family, with whom he could be perfectly honest. No secrets. No lies. Washburn shook his head. He noticed though, that, as an athlete, Malcolm kept his body fit and free of drugs, tobacco, and alcohol. Curious young fingers in his home would not be encountering dangerous substances, or guns either, he learned. Children visiting Malcolm would be totally safe from harm. Once, Malcolm met Washburn's own 'boy', during one of his visits, and he displayed a natural, warm rapport with the young adolescent . His easy way with children was made evident when Malcolm attended a few Club social events and immediately hit it off with the youngest lads.

Sometime later, another stranger contacted Washburn. Mr. Everett was not interested in NAMBLA for himself, – "I'm a happily married man, thank you very much, and my lady gives me all the satisfaction I crave," – but rather for his son. Everett explained to Washburn that when he was a boy, he had a man lover and considered it one of the best experiences of his formative years. He still remembered how much he learned and grew under this man's loving tutelage. So now he hoped to find a lover for his Jason, who was ten.

When Malcolm heard Everett's story, he felt his prayers had been answered. He and Jason sparked from their first meeting. Malcolm no longer had to be on his guard, because Jason's father understood everything. And the boy, fully aware of his father's past, had no worries that this was going to make him queer. He delighted in all the new pleasures Malcolm was teaching him. Soon after his eleventh birthday, Malcolm bought the house on the lake, and they spent many loving weekends there. Malcolm didn't believe life could be any better. So he was very surprised when the young eleven-year-old, who had always been precocious, did something that burst his dream world. It was at the lake that Jason had his own first ejaculation. They celebrated it by buying fireworks.

But in the coming weeks, Jason felt a little awkward about the anal intercourse. He went ahead with it for Malcolm's sake; but Malcolm noticed the change in the boy's attitude, as well as his rapid physical changes: the body hair, the acne, the cracking voice. He knew it was time for their relationship to move to a new level. He sat down with Jason and his father and had a long talk. He explained that Jason would always be a welcome guest in his home. The father thanked Malcolm for all he had done, and Jason gave him a last tender hugging kiss. Jason kept in touch, often calling Malcolm to detail his new heterosexual experiences. Malcolm was always there to give him both encouragement and wise counsel. He wondered if he'd ever meet someone else like Jason, not knowing he already had.

3 - Tony
"That's not Tony."

"No, that's not Billy's brother. That was the first Tony."

"He he, it must be hard for you to keep them all straight."

"No, Rippy. Every boy is very very special."

"Hey, I know where that picture is. That's the Racquet Club. Billy showed us. You work there right?"

"Actually I own the place."

"Wow. You must be rich."

"I've been very lucky. Tony is one of my best students. A superior player. Always was."

Malcolm had already been giving lessons to Tony for over a year when he said goodbye to Jason. They were nearly the same age, having celebrated their eleventh birthdays in the same month, but Tony was showing no pubescent signs. Tony's prowess on the court was not the only thing that impressed Malcolm. The man indulged in watching the lad shower and change after every workout. Tony showed no embarrassment as he walked around naked while his coach discussed his tennis strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes, Malcolm even imagined the boy was taunting him, and when he lost Jason's company, he realized he could now very easily go over the edge. He called Tony's father and asked for a meeting.

"I think it's time for Tony to have a new coach. I think I've taken him as far as I can."

"What? Are you an idiot, Malcolm? I seen how you work with him. The kid's really taken off. No way am I going to find a coach as good as you."

"No, really, Sir."

"Shut up. There's something else, isn't there? Are you planning to sell this place? Is that it? And you can't let the word get out? Come on. What's the real story?"

"No, Sir. Nothing like that. But yes, there is something else. I'm afraid I'm starting to fall for the boy. And it may not be healthy for us to…"

"What the hell? You mean like you love the kid?"

"Well, yes, Sir, you see…"

"Well, that's great! That's fuckin' wonderful! Problem solved."

"Pardon, Sir?"

"Tony thought you didn't like him. He's had a big crush on you for months. He's been trying to flirt with you, but you didn't seem to respond. He was starting to guess you hated him."

"But…"

"Yeah, I know. Big misunderstanding. Fine. Now it's straightened out. Look, you're going to continue to coach my son until you really, really have no more to give him. And you're going to show him you love him and do whatever the fuck you bastards do. All I care about is my son is happy."

"You mean that…"

"Look. He's going to the tournament upstate next month. I'm going to book two rooms, each with one king size bed in it. Me and the Mrs. will sleep in one room. Tony and his coach in the other. You two do whatever you fuckin' want in there. Just don't give me any details."

For nearly two years after that, each Saturday after a long grueling practice, Malcolm took his protégé home for a different kind of energetic exercise in his bedroom. Sunday morning, they'd wake up and go back to the Club early for another long round of tennis. Then after a shower, they'd get in one final fuck before dressing and waiting for Tony's father to pick him up. Dad often had to stand and patiently watch them complete their lingering goodbye kisses. Shortly before his thirteenth birthday, Tony reached manhood. The sex stopped, and the marathon weekend sessions were shortened to Saturday mornings. Tony needed to free his Saturday nights for the girls. Malcolm continued to coach Tony another two years and then found him a coach who could prepare him for the pro circuit. His father still drops by the Club and brings in many new members.

4 - Chucky
"Who are these two kids, Uncle?"

"They're two different pictures of the same boy, Rippy. That's Chucky. The first picture is when I first met him. He was nine. The other one is a year later."

"Wow, he looks so much better in that one."

Chucky had always been picked on in school. His unfortunate name, his spastic body, his wussy attitude all combined to make him the class punching bag. He was miserable. He hated school but didn't see any escape. One day he took his Dad's razor and slit his wrist. It was a wake-up call for everyone. The doctor in the ER recommended a psychiatrist. After several sessions, he suggested the parents get Chucky into some organized sports program. That's when they came to the Club. They were impressed by the way Malcolm worked with the boy. He was gentle, organized, and unlike the PE teacher at school, had a sincere sympathy for the boy's problems. After his tennis lesson each week, Malcolm took time to talk with Chucky and give him advice on how to eat, how to dress, and basically how to carry himself in public. Chucky's parents were amazed at the transformation. Before them stood a boy with newfound confidence and a love of life. They scheduled a conference with Malcolm.

"We'd just like to tell you how delighted we are with the way you've worked with our son. He is a new boy. We feel we have our oldest son back again. We know he's learned a lot more from you than tennis. Mainly, he has learned self-respect. Now, we have a special request to make. We wonder if you would consider giving him another kind of lesson. We'd be willing to pay you for your professional time, of course. You know, Chucky is gay. We recognized that a long time ago, and we're comfortable with it, even though he is so different from Harry, his younger brother. All we want is for both our boys to grow up happy. But we really know nothing about the gay lifestyle ourselves and we want Chucky to realize that he doesn't need to emulate, – this is hard to put into words, – the sissy stereotype. We want him to see that not all gay men are fairies, if you know what we mean. That some of them are totally masculine in appearance and behavior. Men, well, men like you. I know this sounds a bit unorthodox, but while he's still at this formative stage in his life, we'd like to hire you to give him lessons in being gay."

Malcolm was floored. He told then he would be happy to work with Chucky. But that under no circumstance would he accept a fee for doing so. The boy's own sweet company would be reimbursement enough. He then outlined a long term program, going into quite specific detail about what this regimen would entail. He wanted them to realize at the outset what they might be getting into, all the possibilities. He also explained that the training would end once Chucky reached puberty. Then the boy would be on his own to find his own partners. They shook hands on the deal.

Malcolm began to take afternoons off from the Club to spend afterschool quality time with his new buddy. They discussed everything. Chucky had a natural curiosity and was so relieved to find someone he could talk to about his feelings. At nine, he was a sponge ready to absorb all he could about the life he knew he was destined to enter. Unlike Tony's father, Chucky's parents wanted to know everything. When Malcolm began jerking with his student, Mama checked out all she could on the internet about masturbation. Before they began oral sex, she bought books about it and assured herself of its safety. She insisted Malcolm get tested every four months even though he knew he was disease free.

Tony's entry into manhood and his complementary interest in the opposite sex freed up Malcolm's bed Saturday nights and Chucky filled the void. His parents again wanted to learn all about anal intercourse in general, and this partnership in particular. They had Malcolm show them his erection and were pleased that it was a much more appropriate size for their baby than Daddy's. Malcolm also showed them his lube and described the possible positions they might try. He told them they were welcome to watch if they wanted, but they felt Chucky might feel awkward with them in the room. So they drove a very excited Chucky over to Malcolm's new house every Saturday for dinner and picked a content and somewhat tired boy up after Sunday brunch. Malcolm gave him a small dildo and explained to Chucky and his parents how to use it safely. Malcolm himself was learning a lot. This was his first gay lover boy, and Malcolm was molding him into a fine lover. Not yet eleven, Chucky would probably spend a few more years giving as much pleasure as he was getting. However, Chucky had his own ideas. As much as he loved Malcolm, he knew the arrangement was not permanent. Malcolm had not only taught him gay sex but also gay behavior, the vibes by which homosexuals recognize one another. On his own, Chucky had sought the favors of Ricky, a 13-year-old around the corner. The two hit it off, and both sets of parents were delighted by the pairing. Chucky's folks thanked Malcolm for everything and Chucky spent one last farewell night in his bed. Chucky was now thirteen, well past puberty, and he and his boyfriend alternate nights between their two homes and are well on their way to a long life together.

5 - Harry
"Hey, here's a picture of Chucky with a little kid."

"That's his brother Harry. He was my next lover boy."

"He was gay too?"

"No, not at all."

It seems that for the two years Chucky was with Malcolm, Harry, two years younger, was a little jealous of the extra attention his brother was getting. He didn't want to play tennis. He didn't want to do anything 'girly'. But he wondered what he could do to get a few special favors himself. When Chucky announced he wouldn't be sleeping at Malcolm's any more, Harry asked, "Can I?"

Now the parents had a whole new set of worries. They sat down with Malcolm again and talked about their youngest boy. At six, he wanted to play the trumpet. They bought him one and he practiced diligently for eight months, then quit. He and his Dad built a tree house together which he and his buddies used as a clubhouse for a year. In the past year though, he probably used it twice. He signed up for karate and got as far as green belt and then quit. The same story with Cub Scouts. He had a bubbling curiosity but his interests lasted a year or two at best. They wanted to be fair to their youngest son, but he wasn't gay, and they didn't want him turning queer. Malcolm told them about the previous boys, Jason and Tony and how totally hetero they were. He also gave them some pamphlets to read explaining that a prepubescent's sexuality is not something that can be changed. The parents then met with Jason's and Tony's fathers who both told them that if anything, the time spent in Malcolm's bed made their sons better lovers, more secure and confident. Eight-year-old Harry was given permission to sleep at Malcolm's. He went to the cabin often. He went to NAMBLA parties. For a couple years, he loved basking in all the attention. He sucked Malcolm with gusto and seemed to always be presenting his asshole for plugging, even if Malcolm wasn't always in the mood. But on his tenth birthday, Harry got a skateboard and that became his new hobby. Malcolm slept alone again. But not for long.

6 and 7 - Billy and Tony
"Hey, I know those two guys."

"You sure do."

Just after Malcolm lost his eager little asshole to a skateboard, he learned that two of his tennis students, brothers, were going through some hard times. After speaking to the Johnsons, with total candidness, he took Billy, then 10 and Tony, 8 under his wing. They've been with him longer than any of his other boys.

"Where are they now?"

"They went to their grandparents' house in Florida for Thanksgiving. I asked them to call me tonight, but they might be having too much fun to remember."

"They'll call. I know they will. Hey, Uncle, all the pictures in your book are the boys' faces, and in suits and team uniforms and play clothes. There's no naked pictures here."

"You are certainly very observant, Rippy. No wonder you're so smart. No, I have to be careful, Rippy. I can't have a book full of naked boys in my house. Some day you'll understand. But anyway, I don't need photographs. Believe me, I remember every one of the precious little asses perfectly."

"Oh, OK. What time is it, Uncle?"

"It's 6 PM. Why? You getting hungry for supper?"

"Not for food, no. I'm getting hungry for something else. It's been eight hours since you last fucked me, Uncle. So far you only did it three times."

"You're keeping score, eh?"

"Yep, first was last night in the chair when I was on your lap. Lucky you had that lube stuff right there on the table."

"That's the Boy Scout motto, "Be Prepared."

"And then before we went to sleep, we was on our sides and you fucked me again while you hugged me. That was nice."

"For both of us."

"And this morning after our shower, you fucked me like a doggy."

"Woof. Woof. So what shall we do this time? I think you're still not too big for me to fuck you standing up. You want that?"

"Maybe next time. This time, I want you to do it like you did Billy up at the cabin. Remember? He was laying on the couch and his feet was up on your shoulders."

"Yep. I remember, Rippy. Spreadeagle. You want to do it like that?"

"Yeah, it looked like fun that way."

"OK, Rippy, you're the Boss."

Chapter 7
Christmas

"Marcus, Honey, I think this year we should invite my mother for Christmas. It's going to feel strange for her there without Dad."

"I agree. We have the third bedroom. That's a great idea, Andy. I'm sure Rip would love having Nana here for Christmas."

"And Uncle Malcolm."

"What? He'd be coming too?"

"Well, probably. For several years, Dad wasn't able to travel, and Malcolm was always there for Mom and Dad at Christmas. And you know how my brother loves his nephew."

"Yeah, I know HOW he loves him. Well, I suppose I could set up the cot down in the basement."

"Nonsense. Malcolm will sleep in Rip's room. You know that's what they both want."

"Oh, God. OK, OK, I'll haul the cot upstairs."

"Don't be an asshole, Mark. Malcolm will be perfectly comfortable sleeping in Rip's bed."

"It's only a twin!"

"So, then they have to lie real close to each other."

"You're not going to allow me even the smallest pretense, are you?"

"Nope. It's settled. I'll call Malcolm and Mom this afternoon, and you can tell Rip at dinner tonight."

.oOo.

"Here they come, Mom. I see Uncle's car coming down the street. Come on, let's go meet them. Last one out is a fa…, uh, last one out is a fancy poodle."

"A what? Andrea, you think our son is a little bit more excited than normal this year?"

All three Sloans stood in the front yard as the car rolled into their driveway. Marcus went to help his mother-in-law out of the car, while Malcolm opened the trunk, full of exciting mysteriously wrapped presents.

"Hi, Nana, can I kiss you?"

"I remember a time when you didn't like my kisses, Euripides. You'd scrunch up your face like it was worst thing on earth."

"Yeah, well, now I think kissing is nice." Nana bent over to kiss Rip's cheek and the boy returned the favor. Then to prove his point, he ran over to Uncle Malcolm, whose lips were already puckered and ready. "Come on inside, Uncle. Mama was gonna put you in the basement, but Dad said no, you should sleep in my room."

"Is that right, Marcus?"

"Well, something like that."

"I wouldn't blame my daughter for wanting to put Malcolm in the basement. Remember the way he used to snore? Kept the whole house awake!"

"Hey, come on, Mom."

"Well, it's true! I don't know how poor little Philip could sleep in there with you."

Andrea smiled. "Yeah, Mom. I guess Philip didn't sleep much, did he, Malcolm."

"Philip was such a nice little boy. All your little boys have been real nice, Malcolm. The ones I met anyway."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You ARE being careful, Son."

"Super careful, Mom. Don't worry."

"Well, mothers always worry, don't we, Andrea?"

.oOo.

"That's a super meal, Sis. I just might come here every Christmas."

"Where's Billy and Tony now, Uncle? Are they OK?"

"They're with their parents. Right now they're probably shaking all their presents. They're just fine. They came over last weekend and I gave them my presents."

"Did they give you presents, too?"

"They gave me the best presents in the world, Rippy."

Marcus rolled his eyes, but Andrea moved the conversation along. "How are their parents? We just got the Johnsons' Christmas card."

"Oh, they're fine too. I saw them last month at the party."

"What party, Uncle? Did someone have a birthday?"

"Well, no, not a birthday. We were celebrating Billy's manhood."

"Huh?"

"Billy has started cumming. Making Spunk, Rippy. So his parents had a nice party for him." Marcus was trying to stifle a cough, imagining the special Carvel cake they created for THAT occasion.

"Wow, that's so cool. Mom, I want a party for my manhood, OK? And I want Uncle and Nana to come too. Does Billy have hairy balls now, Uncle?"

"He he. Well, maybe a couple hairs there and a couple more in his pits."

"And he probably won't be coming over your house no more, 'cause now he's gonna want to go out with girls, right? Like Jason?"

"Yeah, soon it will be just Tony. I think he's got a couple years left at least."

By now, Marcus was shaking his head. Every day, his son amazed him further. "Well, let's have dessert in the living room. I'm going to put the coffee on."

.oOo.

"Psst, Uncle. You awake yet?" No answer. Now the nine-year-old had some real difficult decisions to make. He wanted to get down there and check out all his presents, but he didn't want to go alone. That's no fun. But he was wide awake now. He'd never get back to sleep. But sometimes grown ups take forever. But he didn't want to just hit Uncle or shout at him. That wouldn't be nice. Uncle was the guest. Think. Think. What to do? Then Rip, smart little lad that he was, came up with a solution, that he was sure Uncle would like. He got up, pulled the sheet off Uncle's beautiful naked body, knelt by the bed, and started to suck. Sure enough, a smile soon erupted on the sleeper's face. "Merry Christmas, Uncle."

"Merry Christmas, Rippy. Let's see. What time is it? Oh, almost 7. OK. You think I should get up?"

"Yeah!!"

"Well, you're the Boss. I wonder if Rippy was on Santa's nice list or naughty list this year."

"Let's go find out, he he." Rip grabbed his Uncle's hand and pulled him out of bed, then ran to open the door.

"Hold up there, Rippy. We aren't at the lake. There's ladies present."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I'll put my bathrobe on."

"Good idea, Rippy. I'll get it and I'm gonna put mine on too.… Here." Uncle started to squeeze his arms into the undersized sleeves.

"You threw me the wrong robe, Uncle. You're being silly." With the apparel properly sorted out, the two love boys headed for the living room, somewhat clad and slipper-shod.

Malcolm stopped by the kitchen to start the coffee as Rip went through the piles of packages. "Hey, Uncle. I guess I was on the nice list."

"I'm not surprised, young man. I think the name Euripides is on everyone's nice list."

"And guess what. Malcolm must be on Santa's nice list too!"

"Now that does surprise me.… You know, we should wait for the others before we open anything. It's more fun that way. People like to see your reaction when you open their presents."

"Aww,… yeah, you're right.… Hey, you can open my present to you now though. Here."

"Wow, thank you Rippy. I certainly will do that. Hmm, let's see, it's about the size of a book, but it's too thin. Hmm, I can't feel any texture. There's no jingle when I shake it. There's no distinctive odor…"

"Come on, already. You're being silly again. Open the fuckin' present, Uncle! You open it now or I'll take it back."

"You will not, you Indian giver. It's mine." Uncle tore open the wrapping and found himself staring at a beautiful, but quite flat, Rip. "Who is the handsome lad in this picture?"

"That's me!! That's my school picture. I asked Mama to order a big one like that 'cause I want you to put it in your album with all your lover boys. Please, Uncle, please."

"Of course, Rippy. That's the perfect place to put a boy that I love so much. Now, let's see if there's a little box with your name on it."

"Yeah, this one says 'to Rippy', so I know you gave it to me."

"Brilliant deduction, professor."

Malcolm didn't have to wait for Rip to go through the frustrating examination. The kid tore off the wrapping. "Wow, a digital camera!! That is so cool. Is there batteries in it? Gee, this is great. Come on, I want you to be my first picture. Smile!" Snap. "Hey, look, there's the picture on the little screen. See? Did I take it right, Uncle?"

"Well, let's see, yep, that's me, all right. A little surprised maybe. You didn't give me time to look pretty. But you sure took an excellent candid shot. Can I make a small suggestion, though?"

"Sure, what? I want to learn?"

"When to snap a picture, take time to look through the view finder. Really look. Check what else is in the picture. Check that the person isn't yawning, or has his eyes shut, stuff like that. In this case, it would have been good to check that I had my bathrobe closed. He he."

"Oops, I didn't notice that. He he. Maybe I should take another one."

"You can erase that one later."

"No, I wanta keep it. My first picture on my new camera."

"You're the Boss."

The rest of the family did wind their way out to the living room, settled into the chairs, drank their coffees, and began opening their presents, as Rip kept snapping their pictures. Periodically his Dad would remind him to tighten the belt cord on his bathrobe, because it wasn't just the presents that were opening up for inspection.

Marcus got an argyle sweater, knitted by his mother-in-law, and a book of Medean art from Andrea. He had wanted it for a long time but it was out of print.

One present was addressed to the whole family, but in Uncle's handwriting. "When Sis and me were little, every Christmas Mom and Dad got us a new game to play. So, I got us a new game. Well, it's new from the store, but actually it's an old game." Nana guessed Chess. Andrea guessed Scrabble. Marcus ignored his own sarcastic thoughts about Malcolm's idea of family games and guessed Trivial Pursuit. Rip, remembering the weekend at the lake, guessed a jigsaw puzzle even though that wasn't technically a game.

"Gee, that would have been good too, Rippy. But nope, you're all wrong, it's…" flamboyant removal of gaudy wrapping "… Twister!"

"Twister?!!" universal unimpressed reaction.

"Come on, let's go eat breakfast," said Andrea. "By the way, tomorrow, I'm taking Mom out to the mall for the after-Christmas sales. You three boys will have to entertain yourselves without us."

Chapter 8
Rip Shows Off; Disney World

"OK, Mom and I are off. You three try to behave and not burn down the house. Bye."

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Nana." After he watched the Plymouth drive around the corner, Rip whispered something in his uncle's ear. "Dad, Uncle and me will be back in a minute. We got to get something."

"Sure, you two run along. Take your time."

Marcus was sure that what they intended to do would take more than a minute, and he settled down on the couch with his new book. He was so absorbed in it, that he didn't look up when Rip said, "We're back."

"That didn't take long. What did you get?"

"We got naked! Ha ha ha ha." Marcus then looked up and sure enough, there were his son and his brother-in-law standing in all their glory. "Come on, Dad. You get naked too. Come on. Mom and Nana ain't here. I been telling Uncle how you and me sit and jerk off together. We done it lots of times, right, Dad? So it's gonna be fun doing it all three of us, OK? Come on."

"No, well, I was just…" They weren't about to let Marcus off the hook. Malcolm pulled Marcus off the couch and Rip started opening his father's pants. As he pulled them down, Malcolm started pulling his new sweater up over his head. In a few seconds, they had him stripped and ready for action.

"Wait, I gotta get something else." Rip ran out of the room. Now what? Rip came back with three towels and spread them on the couch.

"Be prepared. That's the Boy Scout motto, Dad." They sat down, Rip centered between the two greatest men in his life, and went to work on their peckers. "This is fun, ain't it Dad?"

"I'm enjoying it, Son. This was a good idea, after all. But I better not see that camera anywhere around!"

"You think this is what your wife meant when she said, 'Behave yourself'?"

"Probably not."

Then Rip piped up, in his best imitation of a grown up, "We're men and this is our house. If we want to sit and jerk like this, who's gonna fuckin' stop us."

"Marcus, I did not teach him that."

"No, Malcolm, I did."

"Look, Uncle, you see? I told you Dad's cock was bigger'n yours."

"Don't say that, Son. Your Uncle has a fine cock."

"It's OK, Rippy. I don't mind. Size isn't everything. Your Dad does have a very fine cock."

"And so do you, Son."

A few minutes of contented masturbation elapsed with occasional hands venturing over the borders.

"Uh, Dad?"

"What, Rip?"

"You want me to suck your cock?"

"You don't have to do that, Son."

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. I suck Uncle lots of times but I never suck you, Dad. Please?"

"Well, you really want that, Son?"

"Yeah!!!"

"You won't bite me, will you?"

"Don't worry, Marcus, Rippy knows all about teeth. He's real careful. Go on, Rippy, kneel in front of your father.… That's it. Just be careful, Rippy. Don't go down the whole way. Your Dad's a lot bigger than me. You don't want to choke.… That's it."

"Oh, Shit, Son, that feels so fuckin' nice." Marcus closed his eyes and just wallowed in the experience of his own offspring's nine-year-old mouth expertly giving him oral sex. "Uh, Son. I'm going to cum soon. You better let go." His words muffled, the boy asked if he had to let go. "You're going to swallow it?" Nod. "Oh, hell, go for it!" And with that, Marcus emptied his testicles into his son's waiting mouth. Several strong and large shots, which the boy took without losing a drop. "Wow! That was the best fuckin' blow job I've ever had, Son. Better than your m… Well, it was really very good. I'm proud of you, Rip." And it was obvious that Rip was proud too, as he licked his lips. "Are you going to suck Uncle Malcolm now?"

"I think he wants to put his somewhere else, don't you, Uncle?" Rip gave a naughty little wink. "Dad, you want to watch me get fucked?"

"No, Son, the wanking was great and the BJ was super, really super. I really love you, Rip. But I don't think I want to see that. Here, give me a kiss." Rip put his lips on his father's and stuck his tongue out so his father could taste his own ejaculate. Then quietly, with head bent slightly, he left the room and headed for the bedroom, holding his uncle's hand. Was that dejection? Marcus thought. The boy is up one minute and down the next. He began picking up his clothes and the towels, and went to put on a pot of coffee, while in his mind he imagined the scene in his son's bedroom, the scene he chose not to witness.

Later, he told Andrea the whole story.

"You're a real asshole, Marcus."

"Again? You think I should have watched them do their dirty work? I'd feel like a real pervert, peeking at them."

"You watch Rip play baseball. You watch him skate board. You even watch him sing in the school chorus. Here he asks you to watch him do something he's really proud of, and you refuse. Honestly, Marcus, you can be so thick headed."

"Well, I didn't really think of it like that."

"No, you didn't."

"Maybe I should tell him I'm sorry."

"Maybe you should."

Now it was the father whose head was hung as he shuffled down the hall to his son's bedroom, and wondered what they were doing in there now. He stood are the door and listened for the sounds of sex. What he heard were giggles, in two voices a couple octaves apart. He knocked. "Come in," said the boy soprano. Marcus opened the door to see his brother-in-law in the strangest contortion, ass pointed at the ceiling, feet and hands positioned in a way that seemed to defy balance. And in between his limbs was pretzeled his son, whose gaze was directed back over his shoulder, past Malcolm's knee, toward the door. "Hi, Dad, we're playing Twister. Did you ever play?"

"Not buck naked, Son." The players collapsed in a giggling fit.

"So what did you want, Dad?"

"Well, Son, I, um. I just wanted to say I was sorry."

Rip frowned, "About what?"

"About earlier, you know in the living room."

"Don't be sorry. I liked it, Dad. I liked sucking you. Didn't you like it?"

"Yeah, Rip. I liked that a lot. But I mean after that. You wanted to show me something, and I didn't let you. That's what I'm sorry for."

"Oh, you mean the fucking?" Marcus nodded. "Gee, OK, Dad. You want to see it now?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be right now, Rip. You were playing a game. Malcolm may not be in the mood right now. But sometime, yeah, I'd like you to show me, if you want to, that is."

"I'm in the mood, Marcus."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"How about it, my boy? Want to put a show on for your old man?"

"Yeah. Wow. That'll be great. Is Mom and Nana gonna watch too."

"No, Son, this is for us men."

"OK, Great. What position, Uncle?"

"You choose, Rippy. You're the boss."

"I like it spreadeagle. Dad, you want to see that one?"

"Whatever you say, Son. I'll sit over here. You go ahead."

Rip knelt in front of his Uncle and began sucking and massaging him up to a full erection. Marcus looked at his son's naked nine-year-old butt as Rip joyfully went about his duties. It looked so small, so innocent, so darling. Then he stared at the 29-year-old cock swelling from his boy's expert manipulations. Suddenly it didn't look all that small. His fatherly lens seemed to zoom on in the monstrous tool as it grew, watching it expand. He thought of the pictures in his books of the ancient Priapus with his gargantuan appendage, laughing sadistically at all the world. He glanced again at his son's tiny ass, and his mind began to spin: "How can I sit here and let this go on? This madman is about to invade the sanctity of my precious little boy. How can I idly watch my own flesh and blood get savagely ripped open?" Marcus shuddered as he realized the irony of his son's nickname. "I'm not watching some illicit child porn movie. No! This is real. It's time to put an end to this idiocy! Time to reclaim my son in the name of all decency and help him escape this torture. He's too young to do it himself. This is the moment to come to his defense."

Just then, Rip let go of his Uncle's mantool, turned and gave his father the biggest grin. The delight on his face just bubbled over. Never had Marcus seen him so effervescent, so proud, so deliriously happy. Dad bit his lip and watched as Rip then sat down on the edge of his bed, lay back and lifted his legs up in the air, and held his knees. Malcolm opened the lube and spread a generous amount around and into the boy's little love tunnel. Marcus looked at his son's sweet smiling face and began to rub his crotch. Malcolm took the boy's ankles and rested them on his shoulders and then tenderly but firmly held the boy's tiny waist. Rip held his lover's wrists with his own small hands and pursed kisses up at the uncle he loved so much. Malcolm bent forward. Marcus studied his son's expression as his anus was about to be penetrated. No hint that this was anything other than pure delight for the boy. Malcolm leaned forward and went in as the boy softly whispered, "ohh yeah."! Marcus' eyes began tearing. His brother-in-law's pace began to accelerate until he was humping energetically, Rip's little white ass bouncing with each thrust. After a while the action froze and then Marcus watched as his son's chute was filled with spunk, or whatever he wanted to call it. Malcolm leaned forward to kiss the lover boy as his flaccid tool fell out. They each whispered a thank you to the other, and Malcolm rolled over on to the bed.

Rip stayed in position, grabbing his knees again. "See my hole, Dad? Ain't that cool? It looks real big now, Right? But in a few minutes it's gonna get small again. You can watch it. What you think Dad? You think I did it good? Did you like the show?"

Marcus wanted to say a thousand different things, but at the moment, all he could manage were a few sobs. He went over, lay beside his son and kissed him a long time. Finally, he gurgled, "I love you, Rip. I'm glad you're such a happy boy."

"Thanks, Dad.… Uh, Dad,… you know what?… You got a tent."

"Yeah, I know, Son. I think I'm going back to your mother now. You and Malcolm stay here and rest.

.oOo.

Rip got to spend a whole week with Uncle in February when his school had recess. Of course, most days Tony was there also, but there were times when Rip had Malcolm all to himself.

Tony, for his part, had been spending every weekend at Malcolm's. He missed his brother being there, but was also happy to be alone with the man. He could suck away at that cock without having his brother's face pressed against his own. And in the bed there was no third body competing for attention. (However, Tony developed a habit which Malcolm found annoying after a while. Every time they were in the middle of some serious fucking, Tony would start giggling and imagining that at that moment, Brother Billy might be nailing some girl friend's ass the same way.) Come February, Tony too was ready for some Ménage à Trois. He and Rip were the best of buddies.

Malcolm of course was delighted to have two small wiry naked bodies scampering about his house again. Rather than wearing his body out, these nine and ten-year-olds seemed to give new vigor and energy to his now 30-year-old frame.

At the Easter break, Rip and Tony had a week and a half off from school, so Uncle took the time off from the Club and they all went up to the lake to open up the cabin. So what if there was mud on the ground and black flies in the air! Nothing could dampen the spirits of three boys intent on enjoying themselves, their slowly changing bodies, and each other's company. When they weren't busy with their usual energetic adrenolin-driven activities, and had time to just talk (while leisurely wanking themselves), the conversation began to turn to the upcoming summer vacation. Billy had already opted out of the NAMBLA trip to Disney World, which was scheduled for the week after school ended. Tony of course was excited to go, and barraged Malcolm with endless questions about what they'd do there. At first, Rip empathized with his enthusiasm, maintaining it sounded almost as exciting as his return to his friends in Greece. But after a while, he couldn't even convince himself with this courageous rhetoric. Malcolm decided it was time to give the Sloans a phone call, and by the time he hung up, it had all been arranged. Rip would take Billy's place on the NAMBLA trip to Disney World, before getting on a plane and flying to Greece to join his parents.

Rip and Billy dragged Malcolm all over the Magic Kingdom, the Animal Kingdom, Epcot, and MGM Studios, and Rip's new camera got plenty of exercise. Occasionally, they'd bump into another man with a boy or two, whom they'd recognize, but discretion was the byword at DW. No uniforms, no name tags, no pennants, nothing to indicate to anyone outside the group that it was NAMBLA week at Disney. Club activities consisted of informal get-togethers between men and boys in their hotel rooms, and two official events held in nearby Orlando, an opening reception and a closing banquet. While dessert was being served, two waiters came out of the kitchen with a cake bedecked in lit sparklers. Every eye in the dining room followed the display as it wound its way over to the table that included Rip, Tony and Malcolm. On the cake was a miniature Magic Kingdom and the words, "Happy Birthday Rippy and Tony."

"But our birthdays ain't 'til next week?"

"I know, Rippy, but you're going to be in Greece, and I knew Tony wanted to be able to celebrate his with yours. Let's just call it a little preview, OK"

"Like foreplay," one of the teenage boys at the table wisecracked, instantly getting a punch from the kid next to him. They were glad though that the cake was large enough to serve the entire table. Within ten days, Rip turned 10 and Tony 11. Both boys spent their real birthdays reminiscing about the wonderful events of the previous year.

Rip had lots to tell his young Grecian friends, as well as his coach Alex, his tutor Demetrius, and his father's colleague Jeremy: his uncle's cabin on the lake where he could play and swim naked just like on Naxos and how he saw deer there and other animals, his new friends Billy and Tony, his new camera, and of course the trip to Disney World. There was sad news as well: he had to report that Gramps had died.

Rip wanted to record the whole summer on film so he could show Uncle everything when he got back. And Tony too of course. However, he knew enough to refrain from documenting the father-and-son joint jerkoff sessions which were becoming quite frequent, and the less common, but still rewarding son-to-father blow jobs.

Toward the end of the summer, the two Doctors Sloan received their assignment schedule for the fall semester at the university back home. They noticed a new name on the anthropology faculty, Pieter Tong. Apparently Dr. Tong was from Papua-New Guinea, and for one year would be a guest lecturer on campus.

Chapter 9
Rip's New Brother

Once again, Rip missed the first few weeks of school but quickly caught up. And the parents Sloan got back into the regimen of academia. One day, Marcus came home to report he had gone to lunch with Pieter and found him very interesting, no, paradoxical. From a tribe that lived along the Sambia River, Pieter proved his brilliance at the mission school which arranged for him to continue his lessons at a boarding school. He met the famous anthropologist Gilbert Herdt who encouraged him to continue his studies. He won a scholarship to the University of Australia where he studied the anthropology of the Indonesian islands. Returning to his native country, Doctorate in hand, he accepted a position at the University of New Guinea in Port Moresby, where he eventually became head of the Anthropology and Archaeology Department. Meanwhile, he married a woman back in his tribal village who bore him a son. Spending four days a week on campus and three living with the Sambia, Pieter lived in two very different worlds.

The Sambia still live as they have for millennia, despite the encroachments of government seeking to promote an international image as a 'civilized' nation and of corporate business seeking to exploit the abundant resources of the island. Like proud indigenous people throughout the world, Pieter wanted to continue the rich traditions of his tribe while absorbing the benefits of modern culture. A difficult task. At the university, he worked side by side with well-educated capable women who were his equals. Back in his tribe, women were regarded with fear and scorn. Though they did 'all the work', they were considered unimportant. In fact, men felt that too frequent contact with women would weaken the men. They did not even trust them to prepare their food. Like the other Sambian men, Pieter didn't share his wife's hut when he visited the tribe. They had sex outside in their small vegetable garden and then Pieter returned to the men's house. Instead of a husband, a woman shared her hut with pigs, daughters and infant boys. As soon as a little boy was weaned, he was removed from his mother's care so as not to be further contaminated.

As Marcus listened to Pieter describe the ways of his native village, he noticed that he started out prefacing each sentence with "they think." Soon this became "we think," but eventually their was no qualifying weasel phrase. Pieter simply stated the truth as his Sambian self knew it.

His only son, Torang, now eight, had no memory of his mother. He had not seen her in seven years. But like all the boys in the tribe, he was lovingly raised in the men's house. Pieter sped home each week after his last class at UNG to spend at much time as possible with his little boy, but when he wasn't there, the boy's mentor taught him the skills a Sambian needs to learn. Pieter had chosen Somare for mentor. As his wife's younger brother and still a bachelor, Somare was the ideal choice. Unfortunately, when Torang was only six, his uncle went to work temporarily for the lumber company that was decimating the rain forest in the hills. Away from the influence of his village, he succumbed to temptation and began using his salary to visit the prostitutes who lived in the lumber camp. A Sambian man should have no contact with women until he marries. This breach of tribal law compromised Somare's manhood, making him unfit to continue as Torang's mentor. He had been contaminated. He had, in fact, contracted AIDS, and without the medications available in developed countries, his health quickly deteriorated and he died, proof of the wisdom of the ancient lore. Torang continued to live and learn and develop in the men's house, but Pieter was desperate to find another mentor, before his son's tingu dried up. Marcus thought he understood what that meant, but wasn't sure.

When he was awarded the fellowship to come to the United States, Pieter knew he had to bring Torang with him. He could not bear to leave him for a whole year. He also chose a young Sambian man who worked at the college to come along as his assistant. Pablo was college-trained, fluent in English and French as well as Sambia, and well-versed in western culture, enjoying rock music, TV sit coms, and American hamburgers. He had a new wife in the village, a couple daughters, but no son, so he had no attachments to keep him there. As Pieter's assistant, he could help translate and interpret, run countless errands, and also tutor young Torang. Pieter had no intention of enrolling his son in the local public school where he would have to sit and play and learn in the company of females. His developing manhood was already compromised too much to take that risk. As a married man, Pablo could never be Torang's mentor, but under his tutelage the boy was quickly learning English, math, and all the 'western' skills he needed for his stay in America.

Marcus did not understand then the difference between mentor and tutor, but he realized that being home-taught, little Torang needed a playmate. He told Pieter about Rip, and suggested they all come over to dinner and get acquainted. There was a bit of hesitation on Pieter's part. He said he was looking forward to meeting Dr. Andrea Sloan, whom he knew was also on the faculty, but that perhaps for now just Marcus and Rip might come to his rented home some afternoon.

That evening, Marcus told his wife all about the guest lecturer. Andrea was not impressed with the Sambian treatment of women and Pieter's seeming compliance with it, but she agreed Torang must be lonely for other little boys to play with and she knew how quickly her congenial Rip made friends with everyone. Marcus told her about Pieter's reluctance to come to dinner. "But of course, you asshole. Don't you see?"

"See what?"

"Honestly, Marcus, for a university professor, you sure are slow to pick up on stuff. Don't you see, it's me! I'm a woman, damn it. Of course, Pieter doesn't want to bring his son here. I'd contaminate him."

"What? Don't be silly, Andy. Pieter works with women all the time."

"Yes, but he's a married man. So is Pablo. They're safe. But little Torang is vulnerable. Until he grows up and marries, he isn't safe around women. Don't you get it?"

"Wow."

"Yeah, look, his father may be a bigot but I feel sorry for the little boy. You take Rip over there and visit. Rip is a smart kid. He's not going to be swayed by the man's prejudices. Go on, let them get together. It'll be fun for Rip."

.oOo.

In the Plymouth, Rip was full of excitement. When he learned about little Torang, he read all he could about Papua. He read about the headhunters there and thought that was thrilling. As they pulled up the drive, two black men came out the front door. Two very black men. Rip had a lot of black friends at school, but none were as dark as these guys. Marcus got out.

"Hi, Pieter. And you must be Pablo. Good to meet you. Come here, Son. This here is Rip, he just turned ten this summer." Then he lied, "Andrea was so sorry she couldn't join us," at which both Sambian men smiled and Pablo gave a little wave. Immediately the front door opened again and out ran the cutest and blackest child Marcus had ever seen.

"This is my son Torang. Torang, this is your new friend, Rip."

Rip gave him a big smile, "High Five!" The two boys slapped hands. Pablo had indeed taught Torang well. The five males went inside and Torang immediately absconded with Rip up to his bedroom, while the three men went into the kitchen. Pieter began getting out some refreshments while Marcus and Pablo sat down to get better acquainted.

"Pablo, I want to learn so much more about your culture. Perhaps you can explain the role of the mentor Pieter spoke about."

"The mentor's role is to insure the boy is able to become a man. To give him the strength he needs to marry and make sons. Of course, you know how to make a son."

"Yes, I sure do," Marcus laughed.

"That's because you are a man. You have lots of semen." Marcus wasn't prepared for that observation.

"Well, yes, I must admit, my tingu is often full of sperm."

"What? Oh, ha, ha, you think 'tingu' means 'penis'."

Pieter, who had been setting out some cups of coffee and a cake, laughed also. "Pablo baked this this morning. He's a great cook. Our word for penis is 'klot'. Pablo, tell Marcus what the tingu is."

"Everyone, man and woman, is born with a tingu. It's somewhere in your abdomen. At birth a girl's tingu is full of blood, as she grows it gets more and more blood until the day comes when it bursts. That is the sign that she can get pregnant. However, a baby boy's poor little tingu is dry and all shriveled up. The boy will never be able to become a man unless his tingu is given a steady diet of susu kental pria. That's our term for semen."

Marcus added that one to his mental list: cum, splooge, jizz, spunk, now susu kental pria. Seems like an awkwardly long term.

Pablo continued, "So we teach our boys when they are very young to ingest semen."

"They swallow your cum?"

"Well, yes. But,…"

Marcus envisioned the day this past year when Rip proudly gave him the first of many blow jobs. "So Torang has been sucking you guys off since he was just a toddler?"

Pieter took over the explanation, "Well, no. Please, let me explain. You see, a married man's semen is for putting into his wife to make boys. When she is pregnant, he has to work very hard to make sure the little baby inside has enough semen or it won't even develop. No, a prepubescent boy must get his semen from a bachelor. The ideal person is his mother's younger brother. Torang was getting lots of semen from his Uncle Somare, before he stupidly went off to that lumber camp. Now I'm afraid he will never develop into a man. I know you are probably shocked by all this. Little boys sucking adolescents and young men. I know you don't approve of these things in your culture, but you have to understand, it is all part of our…"

"Hi, Dad. I came down for some Cokes. Rip and me are thirsty."

"Torang, put some clothes on. You can't go naked like that. This is America. What will Euripides think of us?"

Just then, Rip came sauntering in, totally naked. "Hi, Dr. Tong. Hey, is that cake?"

Marcus laughed, "Don't worry, Pieter, Rip loves playing naked. It's fine." He described the beach on Naxos. "Here, boys, join us. Let me cut you each a piece of Pablo's cake."

"Oh boy. Cool." That was Torang, not Rip, who said that.

"So I see you two lads are getting along."

"Yeah, Dad, Torang is lots of fun. Can we come here again soon please? He said he don't have a brother, and neither do I, so we said we are now brothers. OK? So now I got a brother and so does Torang. Isn't that cool?"

"It sure is. Pieter, I think my son is going to be coming over here a lot. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"And, Dad, you know what else? Look what Torang can do with his nose." Torang pulled the straw out of his Coke can and pushed it through a hole in his columella. Marcus smiled and the two Sambian men laughed.

"All Sambian boys get their noses pierced, Euripides. Here, see what I have." Pieter pulled a thin white semicircle out of his pocket and slipped it into his own nose."

"Wow!! What's that?"

"It's the rib from a small monkey. I haven't worn it since I left our village, but I keep it in my pocket all the time to remind me where I come from."

As the boys settled in with their Cokes and cake, Marcus said to his Son, "Rip, tell Dr. Tong about Uncle Malcolm. Tell him everything you do with him."

"Uh, everything?" Rip knew when to be discrete.

"Don't worry, Son. Dr. Tong understands. Go on, I want him to hear what you two do. I want your new brother to hear also. Torang, you listen to Rip.

So for the next hour, Rip explained the wonderful exciting pleasure he and Uncle share. The three Sambian males listened with rapt attention, peppering Rip with lots of questions. Rip was grinning with glee. He loved being able to tell people about his wonderful uncle. Of course, he also loved being the center of attention.

"Dr. Sloan, your brother sounds like a wonderful young man."

"Oh, he isn't my brother. He's Andrea's brother. And thirty isn't exactly young."

"Oh, then he must be getting married soon. All our men already have wives by the age of thirty."

"No, Malcolm is never going to be married, Pieter. He has no interest in women."

"So, Euripides, this Uncle Malcolm is your mother's younger brother, right?"

"Yup. Can I have another piece of cake?"

"Please," Marcus corrected.

"Sorry, please."

"Sure, and you ingest this Uncle Malcolm's semen?"

"Huh?"

"He means you swallow his spunk, Son. Yes, Pieter, believe me, Rip does lot of ingesting."

"Rip, young man, I have to tell you, you are very very fortunate. You are going to be a strong father some day, with many many sons."

"I am?"

.oOo.

A few days later the two Doctors Sloan were having lunch in the faculty dining room when Dr. Tong walked in. "Pieter, over here, please join us."

"And this must be the other Dr. Sloan. I'm pleased to meet you. You have a wonderful little boy."

"Why, thank you." Andrea was a little surprised that the man her mind had painted as a chauvinist was so cordial in real life. "Rip was very excited when he got home the other day. He told me all about his new young friend. In fact, he hasn't talked about much else since then."

"Funny you should say that. Torang, Pablo and I have had some long talks ourselves. About Euripides, and also about your brother."

"Malcolm? What about Malcolm?"

"He sounds like a very nice man. Your husband spoke of him in the highest terms."

"Really?"

"Euripides is very fortunate to have him for a mentor. We have a very big favor to ask. Please don't be offended."

"Shoot."

"Shoot? Oh, yes, I know, that means you want me to continue, right? OK. Well, we know your brother is extremely generous to his young nephew. But we wonder, is it at all possible, that he might consider allowing another boy to ingest his semen." Andrea began to choke on her corned beef sandwich. "I'm sorry. I know I was way out of line to make such a proposal. Please forget I asked."

"No, please, that's all right. I was just a little surprised, that's all. Actually, Malcolm has had many boys ingest his semen, as you say. He enjoys the role of 'mentor.' Enjoys it very much."

"Oh, you make me very happy. You see, Torang has been calling Euripides his new brother. And that makes you sort of like a surrogate mother, please don't be offended. And in turn, that makes this Malcolm the perfect person. His semen would make Torang's tingu grow strong. That is, if Malcolm is willing to do this some time."

Andrea sat stifling a giggle. Marcus seemingly changed the subject, "Tell me, Pieter, do you like to fish?"

A couple phone calls later and the plans were made.

Chapter 10
The Mentor

Marcus and Pieter sat in the front seat of the old Plymouth; Rip, Torang and Pablo in the back. The fishing gear was in the trunk along with minimal luggage. The Sambian males understood they didn't need to bring many clothes.

"I found your brother-in-law's lake on the map, Marcus. It's quite a distance."

"Yeah, that's why I suggested we get an early start. I often feel it's too bad Rip doesn't live closer to his uncle." Shit. Did I just say that? A year ago, I thought Malcolm couldn't live far enough away! What the hell has come over me?

"Dad, how come Tony won't be there?"

"The Johnsons said their schools didn't close for Rosh Hashanah."

"I'm sure glad my school closed. Wow! Four whole days at the cabin. I can't wait."

"Yep. And the college doesn't have classes either, so I thought this was a perfect time for us all to go to the lake. Mr. Johnson said he might bring Tony up for a few hours on Saturday, to see you. You can show him your pictures from Greece. And of course, he'll want to meet Torang."

"Cool. You're going to love it there, Torang. Uncle's a lot of fun and he really likes boys a lot."

"This area reminds me so much of the hill country back home," Pieter remarked, "Don't you agree, Pablo? I'm afraid it's making me a little homesick. Last year, Pablo and I climbed Mt. Wilhelm and looked out over our beautiful forest. We saw wallabies and cassowaries, and orchids, oh, what beautiful orchids. Remember, Pablo? It makes me sick thinking how the lumbermen are cutting it all down."

The sun rose higher as Marcus made his way toward Malcolm's cabin. After a while, Rip began to feel warm. He knew what he wanted to do, but hesitated. With each mile, though, his clothes seemed to gain weight. The more he envisioned his destination, the heavier his clothes felt. It was like the time in Greece when he went diving with Dad and had to wear a rubber vest with weights to hold him down. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer. He unbuttoned his shirt, loosened his trousers and nonchalantly slipped off his clothes. Sitting back down, he turned to Torang and grinned. Torang didn't need any further encouragement. He quickly tore off all his clothes, then both boys looked at Pablo. Pablo had been told to be prepared for nudity at the lake, but didn't expect it would start so soon. As a married man, he was not supposed to just let his klot hang free. Back in his village, a young boy might 'accidentally-on-purpose' steal his semen, which he was saving to make more babyboys in his wife. So, like all married men, he wore a patch of cloth over his penis, nicely decorated with feathers. But that handsome bit of garb was back in his village. Anticipating this situation, Pablo had gone to Wal-Mart to find something approximating his penis cover. He decided on a black jock strap, and purchased a dozen for himself and Pieter. Now, with two naked boys looking at him, he slipped off his own shirt and pants and sat there wearing only his new jock. Marcus observed the whole strip show in his rearview mirror. As Pieter went on remarking on the lovely fall scenery they were passing, Marcus watched with amusement the scenery coming into view in the back seat.

"Look, Pablo, we have trees like these back home." Pieter turned around and saw three young men, contentedly sitting bare-assed behind him. "Oh." Everyone in the car began to laugh.

.oOo.

Malcolm was of course waiting to hear the Plymouth making its way through his trees. He was glad the weather was cooperating. A beautiful, warm autumn day. Marcus had described little Torang to him and he couldn't wait to meet the cutey-pie. And the last time he saw Rip was when they got home from Disney World, and he had to turn around and put him on a plane to Greece. He wondered how much his nephew had grown. Not too much he hoped. He diddled around with the chores throughout the morning, but finally there was nothing to do but wait on the porch for the guests to arrive.

"There's Uncle. See, Torang, don't he look great?" Rip rolled down the window. "Hi, Uncle! We're here!" stating the obvious. "This is my new brother!" stating the not so obvious. The car finally stopped and the two boys jumped out and ran to Malcolm. Pablo gathered up all the loose clothes in the back seat, then stepped out and opened the trunk to begin carrying in the gear. Marcus and Pieter walked over to meet Malcolm.

"How do you do. I've heard so much about you, young man. About your generosity and superior teaching abilities. I am proud to have Torang meet such a fine man."

"Oh, hold on there, you're going to give me a swell head. I'd say I could burst my britches with pride, but as you may have noticed, I'm not wearing britches. He he."

"Yes, and I can see how well equipped you are for your role with young boys." He was lying, of course. Malcolm's equipment wasn't that spectacular, but he knew from back home that even men with small klots often produced copious susu kental pria. "I am also impressed with your men's house here. If it's all right with you, Sir, I wouldn't mind removing my britches as well."

"Sure thing, Mate. Get with the program." The word 'mate' brought back pleasant memories of Pieter's time in Australia. He could see Malcolm was just as friendly as the men he found there. He stripped down to his black jock.

Marcus took off all his clothes but his boxers. He had learned enough about the Sambia not to offend them by displaying his klot. He was after all, a married man. "I'm afraid I'm still a little overdressed."

"Pablo bought plenty of these black penis covers at Wal-Mart. We'd be happy to lend you one if you'd like, Marcus."

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

Marcus, Pieter, Malcolm and Pablo got the things out of the trunk and inside, while Rip gave Torang a quick tour of the place.

"Well, you all must be hungry. How about some lunch? I made sandwiches."

"Uhh, Uncle, Torang says he wants to do something before lunch."

"Sure, kid, you're the Boss. What is it?" Torang went to his surrogate uncle and whispered in his ear. "Really? Like right now? Well, OK, Torang. If that's what you want, it's fine with me. Hope the rest of you don't mind waiting lunch a few minutes, but the boy here needs to eat something special first." Without a word, Torang started sucking on Uncle's klot. The first klot he sucked since his real uncle left him.

For Malcolm, each new lover boy presented a new array of challenges and a new buffet of delights. Torang was the youngest of all his boys, by a few months, but he was the only one to suck him off within minutes of their first meeting. Previously the first blow job followed months spent in acclimation to nakedness, followed by mutual masturbation. Now here was little Torang, whom he barely knew, working his cock like an expert. He obviously remembered all Somare had taught him. He sucked with such gusto, as if his very masculinity depended on it, which of course it did. Marcus thought of leaving the room, giving the two some privacy, but Pieter and Pablo stood watching and beaming, and Rip was grinning, no doubt expecting to get his own turn some time soon.

After lunch, Rip did get a turn, but it seemed like every time you turned around, his new brother was doing more ingesting. Torang had learned the Sambian story well and wanted desperately to make up for lost time. He needed his semen. Pieter eventually sat him down and reassured him that he would have plenty of opportunity to get his required susu kental pria, and he must not monopolize Malcolm's attention, and that in fact there were lots of things he could do these four days besides suck.

The three older men got to work on a new jigsaw puzzle, standing around the table, their ass cheeks framed in uniform black jocks. Pieter told Marcus, "This is a very comfortable men's house. I expect you try to come here as often as you can."

The three boys, for unmarried Malcolm was considered such, went hiking in the woods in search of wildlife, deer, rabbits, chipmunks, beavers, sorry, Torang, no monkeys. Rip was glad he had his camera along.

Toward the late afternoon, Pablo offered to cook supper and Malcolm was more than happy to turn the project over to him. Without the Johnson brothers, he had all the chores to take of himself. Except for the towels and making the beds, which Rip considered his sole prerogative. The turkey dinner was filling, with a delicious spicy gravy. Malcolm took the two boys up to bed and left the men to discuss whatever in the living room. Whatever consisted mostly of Marcus asking questions about Sambian beliefs.

Up in bed, Rip showed his young brother another way to take Uncle's semen into his body. Torang remembered watching some of the mentors fuck their boys like that, in the pantlup, but they always screamed and cried, and it frightened little Torang. However, Rip seemed to enjoy receiving semen that way. After Uncle pulled his klot out, and Rip was still in the doggy position, Torang noticed the precious fluid dripping from Rip's pantlup. He quickly went over and began sucking Rip's anus. Rip tried very hard not to giggle as his brother's little tongue darted in and out.

Uncle lay down on the bed, his arms behind his head and smiled thinking of the events of the day. He wondered if he could count the orgasms he had that day, all the wads he blew into little Torang's mouth, the ones that Rip was able to swallow, and now this final one shot into his nephew's ass. Apparently, Torang did not think this fecund klot was done for the day; he laid his head on Uncle's pelvis and began sucking the limp organ again. But within a minute, the boy had fallen asleep. Uncle whispered, "Your little brother is tired, Rippy. He did a lot of work today." Gently, Uncle picked up his exhausted body and settled it on a pillow beside him.

Rip whispered, "Don't worry, Uncle. I'll be able to finish the job he started."

"Thanks, Rippy. I knew I could count on you."

When Uncle got up in the morning, he discovered the three men had risen early and taken the boat out to fish. He made pancakes for his two boys and either the smell of the maple syrup or the clatter of the pans drew their sleepy bodies down to breakfast. Malcolm wondered if Torang would require any semen before breakfast, to wake him up. He was sort of glad the boy wasn't hanging on his dick but he supposed he could have accommodated him if he had to. Both boys ate huge stacks of pancakes, and Malcolm was kept busy refilling their plates. After breakfast, Malcolm asked Torang to help him with the dishes. Might as well start giving the kid some chores. Rip went to make the beds, now plural. When he came back to the kitchen, he found Torang had gone out on the porch to watch his father and the others fish. Malcolm had given him a pair of binoculars and showed him how to bring the boat closer with them. Rip quietly knelt and gave his favorite uncle his first blow job of the new day. Uncle reset his mental counter to one.

The men arrived with some sockeyes. Pablo took them to the barbecue table and began scaling them. Rip got a soccer ball out for him and Torang to play with; futbal, the universal sport. Again, Pieter thanked Malcolm profusely, telling him how happy his son is now. "He no longer is worried about not becoming a man." Pablo made a delicious lunch, catch of the day.

"Hey, Uncle, guess what?"

"What, Rippy?"

"Torang wants to be your mo-mog. He wants you to be his mo-e." Pieter and Pablo sat up at the news.

Marcus started to ask, "What's a…" but Malcolm simply answered, "Sure kid, you're the boss," not knowing what the hell he was agreeing to. The boys gave each other a high five and went running to the lake for a swim.

"OK, now tell me, what did I just myself into."

Pieter explained, "In some of the tribes near the Sambia the mentors regularly use the anal entrance to get semen into the boys. Our tribe uses that method some times, but the oral entrance is the standard one. Mo-mog is a Jacquai word that means anus-son and mo-e is anus-father. I will have a talk with the boy and explain that you didn't know what the words meant. Don't worry; I don't expect you to do that."

"Oh, I don't mind. I've actually had several mo-mogs. But I wouldn't do it if I felt the boy's 'mo' might get hurt."

Pieter remembered the size of Uncle's klot at full erection. "Well, Sir, I have a feeling it might not hurt him all that much. If he wants to receive semen that way, I have no objection."

"Fine, why don't we do it this afternoon when the boys finish their swim. You can watch if you want?"

"I would like that. Are you sure you don't mind being observed? You Americans seem to get pretty uptight about sexual displays in public."

"Nope, I don't mind. In fact, just a few months ago, I had a mo-mog's father watch me fuck his young son."

Marcus nodded. "Yes, that's quite true, Pieter."

.oOo.

The boys came running up from the lake, giggling, unaware of what the adults had been discussing. Suddenly, Torang's wet feet slipped on the grass and he went tumbling on to a rock. The men went racing down the lawn, as Torang stood up, his nose bleeding profusely. The Sambian men laughed which seemed rather cruel, but Torang was smiling. Dr. Sloan started to take charge, "Here, lay the boy down and hold a towel over the nose. It will stop bleeding soon. Malcolm, get some ice cubes. Rip, you go…"

"No, no, no," laughed Pieter, "Do not bother. Let it bleed 'til it stops itself. You see, in our country, it is good to bleed. Blood is from the mother and it is good to get rid of it. Bleeding makes the boy's tingu stronger. Just stay here, Torang. We don't want to get blood on the nice furniture in the men's house. Marcus, when our boys are very little, we poke sticks up into their noses to make them bleed. They hate it of course. Most of them quickly learn to use their fingers to make it bleed so they won't have to endure the sticks. So a nosebleed is nothing unusual for Torang." Marcus wondered how many little Sambian children had hemorrhaged to death from this casual attitude, but he kept his mouth shut.

The men went back to the porch and relaxed as Rip stood with Torang and told him jokes until his nose did indeed stop bleeding. When they got to the house, they were both giggling so much they almost missed it when Malcolm greeted them as Rippy and Mo-Mog instead of Rippy and Torang. Both boys stopped and stared at Uncle. Torang's eyes were wide as saucers. "Do you mean now, my uncle?"

"No rush, Boss. Any time you're ready to give it a try."

Torang grabbed his surrogate uncle's hand and pulled him into the bedroom, followed by Pieter, Pablo, Marcus and Rip. Rip spread towels out for the audience and Torang took the doggy position on the bed just as he had seen his new brother do the night before. Malcolm opened the lube and spread a generous amount on his cock, which was already rising, and around the precious black rosebud. When he inserted a greasy finger into the hole, Torang let out a "unh."

"Now, just relax, my little darling. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Pieter leaned over and whispered to Marcus, "In our village we don't use any grease, just precum."

"That's why the little boys cry and scream, then."

"You're right." They watched the sweet, caring man continue.

Fully erect now, Malcolm took Torang's waist in his firm hands and leaned forward until his helmet was pressed against the virgin sphincter. "Unh."

"OK, little buddy, just relax, that's it, Mo-Mog." Malcolm waited patiently, and when he felt the love muscle loosen slightly, he pushed in half an inch. Another unh, and more quiet calming words of encouragement. Holding the tiny buttocks, Malcolm gradually made his entrance until his klot was totally embedded in the happy Sambian boy. No crying, no screaming. Only love. Malcolm began thrusting and shortly filled the boy's love canal with the precious energizing fluid.

When he pulled out, the Sambian men applauded. They were very pleased. Torang remained in position, and Rippy knew why. He got up and went over to lick the pantlup before Uncle's semen was lost. "Hey, Uncle, there's some blood dripping out."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I tried to be so careful. I didn't want to tear the precious little boy."

"Don't worry, Malcolm," Pieter assured him. "Bleeding is good."

Chapter 11
A Special Trip

The next day, Saturday, a new car arrived at the cabin. Out jumped Tony, already butt naked, and Mr. Johnson, fully dressed. Marcus began introducing Tony's father to all the others, but Tony simply jumped up into Uncle's strong waiting arms, wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, and planted his lips on the mouth of the man he missed so much. Marcus asked how Mrs. Johnson was doing. Rip asked about Billy and learned that Tony's brother now had a crush on a young girl from their church. Tonight he was taking her to see a movie. Pieter asked how the drive was. Pablo asked if Mr. Johnson would like to borrow one of his penis covers from Wal-Mart, but Johnson decided to leave his clothes on. All were so busy in their conversation, that at first, only Rip noticed that Tony and Uncle were still in tender loving embrace. Then Torang noticed Uncle's klot was engorged. Soon the men too stopped and stared at the loving couple.

Malcolm looked at Rip and mouthed two letters, "K Y." Rip slipped inside and brought out the lube. He opened the cap and spread a liberal amount on his hand and then very professionally applied it to little Tony's asshole as well as Uncle's cock. Unconcerned with all the others on the porch, Malcolm then spread Tony's buttocks and gently guided him down on to his spike. Rip had seen all this before, but this was the first time the grown men had ever witnessed a standing fuck, and for Mr. Johnson, the first time he had ever seen his young son fucked in any position. They watched as Tony was bounced in time to Malcolm's thrusts and had his love canal filled with the man's abundant love cream. When the cock had done its work and fell limp, Torang got up to begin licking Tony's pantlup, but Tony was not expecting that and started giggling and squirming. The moment was over. Malcolm put the boy down, Rip got the soccer ball and the three boys scampered off to play and get better acquainted.

After another delicious supper prepared by Pablo, the Johnsons left and Malcolm, Rip and Torang went to work on the jigsaw puzzle. The three men got in the hot tub. Soon Malcolm joined them. "The boys said I was doing it all wrong, so I left them to finish it themselves," he smiled.

Pieter then said, "Malcolm, I'd like to make a proposition. Please hear me out, and then take some time to consider my offer before you respond."

Malcolm was intrigued with the idea, but realized how different things would be if he accepted. He went to bed that night, but didn't fall asleep for hours. He kept looking at sweet little Rippy asleep on his left and then this precious little Torang on his right. What was the Sambian boy dreaming of? Probably dreaming of being a man some day, a big strong man with a healthy tingu and a klot that made lots of susu kental pria. After breakfast, he asked to talk to Pieter outside alone.

"What are they talking about, Dad?"

"Don't worry, Rip. They're discussing Torang's future."

Shortly, everyone gathered in the living room to hear the new plan. After they return to their rented home, Pieter and Pablo would help Torang pack his things and then in a week he would move into Uncle's men's house, the one back in town. He would live there full-time – this was a first for Malcolm – until they flew back to New Guinea at the end of the academic year. Pablo would also stay with Malcolm in order to continue Torang's training and allow Malcolm to do his work at the Club. He would use the spare bedroom. Pieter had offered to pay Malcolm generously for putting himself out, but Malcolm insisted that the only remuneration he wanted was to have Pablo take over the kitchen. A year of his meals would be more than sufficient pay. Rip was assured that he would come just as often as before, on the long school breaks, and of course Tony would continue to come on weekends. Having Uncle's semen all to himself the rest of the week, Torang certainly wouldn't be as possessive when either of the other boys was there.

The move took place with no problem. Pieter found a small apartment to rent; he didn't need the large house if he was going to live by himself. And he began taking most of his meals at the faculty dining room. Every week, as soon as he concluded his last lecture, he drove over to Malcolm's to spend a few days with his son. He was willing to sleep on the hide-a-bed. It was just wonderful watching his son growing bigger each week, as well as more secure, less tense. Torang was confident now that his tingu was getting regular nourishment. On the weekends, he was perfectly willing to relinquish Malcolm's klot to his new friend Tony's care, (although, Tony did show him the way he and Billy used to tag team Malcolm.) Sometimes Pieter would take Torang on day trips to a park or local museum or such, giving Malcolm some quality time alone with Tony.

On Thanksgiving day, Malcolm left the Sambians and headed for Nana's house. They had all been invited of course. Nana had plenty of food, three more mouths would make no difference. But the more Pieter had thought about all the women there, the more nervous he became. Certainly, at least a few of those women would be going through their monthly bleeding and he was concerned for his son's health. So the three Papua tribesmen stayed back and had their own meal. That evening, they heard the garage door open and soon Malcolm appeared, followed by a naked and very overstuffed Rip. The boys picked up their friendship where they had left off and played games all weekend. Nana had sent three times the usual leftovers so all Pablo had to do for a few days was reheat.

Back at the university, for the next two weeks, Marcus met regularly with Pieter. He was determined to do his damnedest to get Morang to the Sloans' house for Christmas. He knew Christmas morning just wouldn't feel right for Rip unless his black brother was there to open presents as well. His plan called for all the tact and negotiating skills Marcus could muster. He began by casually mentioning some of their Christmas traditions, the happy moments they enjoy each year, the fact that the holiday centers about the children. Pieter had his own recollections of Christmases he celebrated at the mission school. Marcus then made a little joke about Andrea feeling outnumbered, that she was always the lone female in a house of males. Last year, her mother came for the first time, but this year Nana, now getting used to living on her own, had booked a cruise to the Bahamas for the holidays. Marcus wanted Pieter to erase the mental picture of the Thanksgiving dinner attended by aunts, biological and otherwise, great aunts, aunts once removed and female cousins. He kept describing the excitement of Christmas morning and reiterating how it was too bad little Torang had to miss the fun.

Pieter's solid wall was beginning to crack. Torang's tingu was obviously getting stronger from his time with Malcolm. Perhaps it could withstand the presence of just one woman. However, he still needed certain assurances. Marcus decided he didn't need to tell Andrea the details of the hard negotiations that finally clinched the deal, including his sworn promise that his wife would not be having her period at that time, that she would never appear undressed, that no other women would make surprise appearances, and that she not cook Torang's food.

When Malcolm drove up the Sloans' drive on Christmas eve, beside him was a happy little Torang and on the outside window a slightly nervous Pablo. The back seat was totally filled with presents. Marcus had picked up Pieter a couple hours earlier and by himself he was fine in the presence of Marcus' son and wife. He was silently praying to his ancestors that he was doing the right thing for his only son. He went out to help the other men unload Malcolm's car while Rip ran inside, dragging Torang.

"Hi, Mom. This is my brother. Torang, this is my Mom. I'm gonna show him where my bedroom is. Bye, Mom."

Pablo went right to work in the kitchen. Marcus had convinced Andrea that Pieter was very insistent on having Pablo help. He didn't want Andrea put out by their company. She bought it, having heard about the famous Sambian chef. Cooking helped take Pablo's mind off the fact that vulnerable little Torang was under the same roof as a female. He too offered prayers with every vegetable he sliced.

The house was a-bustle with conversation and tasty treats. Torang studied the marvelous Christmas tree. Rip checked out all the presents underneath it. Andrea played some Christmas carols on the piano and even Pieter remembered some of the words from his childhood. Malcolm asked if anyone wanted to play Twister but got no takers. Around nine o'clock the heavens seemed to answer everyone's prayers by blessing the house with a blanket of snow.

It was very cozy in Rip's bed that night; he, Torang and Malcolm didn't seem to mind having to share the twin mattress. Pieter got the bed in the spare bedroom and Pablo slept beside him on the cot. All settled down for a long winter's nap.

Of course, Rip and his two bedmates were the first ones up. Malcolm put the coffee on. Rip got his camera ready. Torang kept fussing with his strange bathrobe. Soon Pablo awoke and started cracking eggs for breakfast, and then Marcus and Andrea came and settled into their chairs.

Finally, Pieter arrived. "I'm sorry, I slept rather fitfully at first. Strange bed, you know. Then I fell sound asleep and slept like a log."

"You sounded like a lumberman's chain saw!" Pablo called out from the kitchen.

"We snorers just can't get any respect around here," said Malcolm. With everyone present, the gift-opening could begin. "Oh, my, this is something from both Torang and Rippy. What can it be?" as Malcolm examined the present remarkably similar to Rippy's present the year before. "Hmm, let's see, it's about the size of a book, but it's too thin. Hmm, I can't feel any texture."

"Yeah, yeah, and it don't jingle and it don't stink. Come on, already. Open the fuckin' present, Uncle!"

"Excuse my son's language, Pieter."

"Oh, don't worry, I know how impatient boys can be."

Malcolm's present was indeed another picture for his album, this one of Rippy and Torang with their arms around each other's shoulders and grins from ear to ear to ear to ear. "Dad took it with my camera and then we went to the drug store and got it printed real big for you. So now you got three brothers?"

"What?"

"You know, Chucky and Harry, they're brothers. And Billy and Tony, they're brothers. And now, me and Torang, we're brothers. So you got three brothers in your album. Well, let's see, six I guess. Well, you know what the fuck I mean."

Later that morning, the phone rang. It was Nana calling from mid-ocean to wish everyone a happy Christmas. She couldn't talk long on the ship-to-shore phone, but it was great hearing her voice.

Every so often, Rip or Torang or both would sneak off to the bedroom with Malcolm and celebrate the holiday in the way that only young boys and the older lover could. Malcolm loved being able to open the tiny little presents they offered him, one in adorable pink wrapping, the other in rich dark chocolate.

Pablo served an indescribably scrumptious Christmas dinner totally American in cuisine: ham, yams, succotash, gravy, and pumpkin pie for dessert. Andrea assured him he could come and take over the cooking any time he wanted. She wondered to herself if he'd come to Greece and teach old Cassandra how to cook.

A little alcohol in the evening put the three married men in a more festive spirit and they decided what the hell, let's break out the Twister. Andrea wisely opted not to participate but rather sit and watch six males of various ages and complexions, and in various states of undress, make total fools of themselves.

A few days later, when Malcolm, Pablo and Torang prepared to leave, – Pieter was going to ride along with them as far as his apartment, – the mood was quiet. Everyone kept their thoughts private but it was obvious much had changed in the previous week. Finally, the car was all packed and it was time to leave. Pieter walked up to Andrea and took her hand, as Pablo's jaw dropped. "Dr. Sloan, thank you so much for having us in your lovely home. I wonder if Marcus would be terribly jealous if I kissed your cheek."

"He might well be, but I don't care. Kiss me, Pieter."

"Torang, my son, come here and give our hostess a kiss. She was very good to us this week." Pablo's jaw dropped further. Torang was hesitant, but trusted that his father knew best. Anyway, he figured his tingu was really strong now. Andrea bent over and the black boy pecked her cheek quickly, and raced to the car.

"We'll see you next week on campus, Pieter. We're both glad you came. It was a very special holiday this year."

Over the next few months, Pieter visited with the Sloans often, and on a couple occasions Andrea was even invited to the cabin for a long weekend. She knew, however, that it truly was a men's house, and so let Marcus and Rip go on their own.

As the college year neared its end, the Sloans saw a lot of Pieter. It was going to be sad to say goodbye to their good friend. But it would be even harder for Rip to say goodbye to his brother. He tried not to think about it, but the parting was inevitable. Rip spent Memorial Day weekend, the last long weekend of the year, at the cabin, wishing somehow he could stop time and stay there with Torang forever. Pieter, Pablo and Malcolm felt bad for the boys. Malcolm of course was going to miss his 24/7 cocksucker, but even so his heart would not break as much as that of his own nephew.

Trying to cheer the boys up, Pieter remarked casually at supper one evening, "Perhaps Euripides' parents will bring him to visit us in Sambia some day and then you'll see each other again."

"Wow, really? Could we, Dr. Tong? Could we, Malcolm? When? This summer? That would be so fuckin' cool!!"

"Hold on there, Rippy. You know your mom and dad have to go back to Greece. And you'll get to play with your buddies there again. Your parents have already started packing. But, maybe another year. We'll see." A small boy's hopes can certainly skyrocket one moment and come crashing down the next.

Later, the boys went out on the porch with Pieter and Pablo. Pablo taught them the Sambian names for the different constellations and told them the wonderful stories they represented. Meanwhile, Malcolm got on the phone. "Yeah, Sis, Rippy considered it a bona fide invite and he really was crushed when I reminded him of Greece. Yeah, of course, I know your commitment to the Naxos project. That's why I was wondering if you might consider…"

Malcolm joined the others on the porch with a sly smile on his face. "Rippy, my man, remember what you were thinking about this time last year?"

"Uh, let's see, yeah, we was planning to go to Disney World. That was so neat. Then I flew all by myself to Greece to join Mom and Dad. I showed them all my pictures, and… uh, Why did you ask me that, Uncle?"

"Well, do you think you could make that trip to Greece alone again, buddy?"

"Uh, yeah." Rip's forehead was riddled with little question marks.

"Well, then, it looks like you and me would have some time to take another trip together."

"Really? where?"

"Oh, I was thinking, maybe… New Guinea."

"Yippee!!" Both boys high fived each other and then ran over to give Malcolm double smackers. They squeezed their Uncle tight, as he reiterated for Pieter his conversation with Rippy's mother.

.oOo.

Dr. Tong and his son had on their best suits when they arrived at the airport in Port Moresby. "Euripides won't recognize you in those fine western clothes," Pieter joked.

But Torang was not in a joking mood. "Did we miss the plane, Dad? I hope they didn't miss it. I want to see my brother again."

"The other boys were very surprised when you told them you had a brother. And they were so excited to find out about your wonderful mentor Malcolm."

"He he, yeah," Torang began to ease up. "And they was so amazed when I told them he was also my mo-e."

"Their fathers were amazed when I told them you didn't even cry or scream. They said your tingu must be very very strong now. They said you're going to be a great man, a warrior, with many many sons. When you begin to get hair, Son, lots of fathers are going to want your susu kental pria for their boys. You will get lots of requests to be a mentor. I am so proud of…"

"Daddy, there's a plane. See it? I think it's them."

.oOo.

As the Land Rover made its way through the bush, Rip and Torang bounced along in the back seat on their bare asses. They weren't away from the airport five minutes before they shed all those terrible clothes. Torang pointed to monkeys and tiny kangaroos and beautiful birds with long flowing feathers. It was all too much to take in at once (unlike Uncle's klot). Eventually the minimal trail petered out and Dr. Tong turned off the car in a small clearing. "We have to walk from here, Malcolm. You can leave your clothes here; you won't need them." Then remembering how everyone in America kept their possessions tightly locked, he added, "Don't worry, I pay the monkeys to protect the car." Pieter opened a compartment on the side and he and Malcolm stripped and left their clothes there. "You better keep your shoes, though. You, too, Euripides. Your American soles aren't accustomed to our forest floors."

Malcolm laced up his hiking boots. "Should I wear a jock or something?"

"As a bachelor, you can either wear a penis cover or not. I have to keep mine on as a married man." From another compartment, Pieter pulled a beautifully woven grass cloth decorated with gorgeous feathers which he tied on his waist and arranged in front of his klot. "I'm afraid word has gotten out about your amazing susu kental pria, so, Malcolm, I suggest unless you can handle a hundred boys fighting to suck your klot, that you keep yours covered as well." He handed his guest a cloth identical to his own.

"Wow, Uncle, you look beautiful in that." Rip took a photograph. Malcolm grabbed a backpack containing lots of chocolate bars for the little boys of the village, his and Rip's toothbrushes, and a few other necessities like a couple tubes of KY. The four walked for nearly an hour.

When they got to the village, there was excitement everywhere. Most of the boys and men wanted to touch the strange pink skin, and the odd textured hair. Boys darted about trying to get a peak at the fecund klot they'd heard so much about. Torang took his brother by the hand and now it was his turn to give a tour. Bachelors throughout the village might have found the legendary white man just a little threatening, for they began calling their boys to suck them off, hoping to prove that they too had good susu kental pria. In fact, they were all making plans to have Torang ingest their own semen as soon as the white man finished his visit. They wanted to be able to brag later that the boy's great manliness was due to their contribution. Torang's tingu would be in no danger of being undernourished before he reached puberty and had boys sucking him.

Rip and Malcolm were given hammocks near the fire, a place of honor in the men's house. Each evening as the men sat around the fire and told stories of tribal lore, with Pablo quietly translating for the visitors, the visitors felt special indeed. Rip listened to the wonderful songs while he and Torang took turns sucking Malcolm. As a favor to the chief, Malcolm also allowed a couple of his sons to ingest his semen.

Uncle fucked both Rip and Torang a couple times, but preferred to walk a ways into the jungle to do it. For one thing, he did not want to encourage the bachelors to go fucking their little charges when he knew they didn't have a supply of KY. Also, he knew that AIDS was running rampant in the area. Some of these men had been away from the village just like Pieter, Pablo and Sarong. He had no way of knowing if they had brought the virus back with them. Some of these innocent young boys may even have been born HIV+ from their infected mothers. They looked healthy enough but that's the trouble with HIV; it can take years to manifest. In the meantime, an infected person can infect many others. Malcolm wasn't going to take any chances.

Three nights before they were scheduled to leave, Malcolm submitted to a very sacred rite. He allowed the men to pierce his septum. Then he was given a monkey bone to wear in it. Rip took more pictures. That night, as Rip tried to nurse Malcolm's sore nose with gentle kisses, he thought about all the things he had to tell and show his parents, his friends in Greece, and his relatives and friends in America. Looking back over the previous two years, Rip decided he was the luckiest boy on earth.

Chapter 12
Epilogue: Twelve Years Later

It was only December 3, but it was already "beginning to look a lot like Christmas." Malcolm sat at his dining room table and tried to work on the Christmas cards, yet again. He had so many people this year to send to.

There were all his Mother's friends, to whom he sincerely wanted to wish a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, after all the kindness they showed to him last spring during Mom's final illness. Malcolm practically lived at the hospital, thinking his presence would give Mom the will to fight the brain tumor. But she seemed to be in such distress. Finally, the nurse took him aside and compassionately told him it was time to let her go, that she was struggling to hold on for his sake. Malcolm sat with her that night and told her it was OK to go and join Dad, that he would be OK. He promised to always be super careful. Mom slept peacefully for two more nights and then the morning of the third day quietly passed on.

Sis, of course, came and helped with the funeral arrangements but it was up to Malcolm, the one who still lived close, to dispose of all their mother's things, the things one inevitably accumulates over the decades. Then came the difficult task of selling of the house itself. Malcolm had a house in town and another up on the lake, but his parents' house was the one he had called 'home' for 42 years. He almost considered buying it himself, if only to keep his fantasy alive. Since high school, he had maintained the notion that Philip might one day look him up again, and not knowing where Malcolm lived, would begin by going back to his boyhood home. It never happened. There had never been so much as a Christmas card from the boy. The boy; Malcolm still thought of him as twelve years old. He'd be what, 38, now. Was he married? Was he happy? Was he even alive? No, it was time for Malcolm to let go of childish daydreams and face the present. He turned the keys over at the closing and wished the new owners as much happiness as he had had there.

Rippy, of course, had to get a card. Malcolm would probably see his sister's son at Christmas, but maybe not. At 22, Euripides Sloan was an up-and-coming photojournalist, who never knew where and when his next assignment would take him. Malcolm reached over to the shelf where he kept the National Geographic that had Rippy's photos of New Guinea. Thumbing through the pages, he remembered the boy's thrill that Christmas he got the digital camera.

He addressed the next card to Jason and his family. Now a partner in his father's firm, Jason had a beautiful wife and two adorable boys, ages four and two. In a few years, would Jason be seeking a boy-lover for his sons as his father had done?

Tony was always appearing on the nightly sports roundups. He had been to Wimbleton twice. With both a successful career and a handsome face, he was sought out for endorsements of everything from tennis rackets to breakfast cereal. He told Malcolm he had even been approached by Trojan for an endorsement.

Chucky was still living with Ricky, and the two had recently settled in New York City, where Ricky worked as a fashion designer, and Chucky a personal trainer. Where were the boys now who once used the spastic wuss as their punching bag?

Malcolm wondered if he had Harry's latest address. The 24-year-old was always moving from one city to another, quitting one job and starting another. He never completed college, having changed his major five times. He was no different in his love life, always moving from one intense relationship to the next.

Billy Johnson had gone into the military directly from high school. He served two tours in the Middle East, but now had wisely decided to settle down. His new wife was pregnant with their first baby, and Billy had accepted a position with a large security company.

His brother, Tony, just out of college, was temporarily back home with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, while he looked for employment. Malcolm knew he'd find a good job in no time, but was sure his parents, now approaching retirement age, were happy to have him around for a little while, to help keep up the house.

Torang had just started premed at UNG. He had served as mentor to many Sambian boys, nourishing their tingus with his potent susu kental pria, but felt he could do much more to improve the health of his tribe. He had secretly decided to put off marriage until he could provide a decent home for his wife, a home he would share with her, a home without pigs, in other words, a home much like the one his 'brother' had grown up in.

Malcolm was still deep in thought about all his young protégés, when he heard, "Are you STILL writing those cards?"

"Oh, hi, Juan. Si, it takes me a long time because I keep thinking about the people I write to." He put down his pen and looked at the adorable ten-year-old. "I didn't realize you were off the phone. How is your mother? And your brother?"

"She's tired. She said Pepito still isn't stable. The doctors keep changing his medicine."

"Epilepsy is a difficult disease, Juan. Especially for a five-year-old. Your mother is a real saint the way she tends to your little brother."

"She wanted me to tell you she really 'preciates you letting me stay here with you."

"It's the least I could do to help, Juan. And you know I love having you here. You have school tomorrow. Did you tell Mama you finished your homework?"

"Si si. She said I was a good boy. And then I told Mama what you promised to show me tonight, and that made her laugh. I like to make Mama happy 'cause she worries about Pepito so much. She said she hoped I liked it."

"Well, now, let's see, what exactly did I promise to teach you?"

"Oh, Malcolm, you're just teasing me. You remember. I told Mama you was going to teach me the spreadeagle tonight. Come on, let's go to our bedroom now." Juan grabbed Malcolm's hand and started pulling him.

"OK, Juan, you're the Boss.

The End

Be sure to check out Around the World, the sequel to Rip, which picks up the story of Malcolm, Juan and little Pepito.

Send feedback to the author through this feedback form with Herb Cat - Rip in the subject line.

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