Author: wolfcub
Title: Tickling
Summary: A man has some playful fun with a precocious boy and girl.
Keywords: Mb b+g 1st

The fourth time the boy rode past my house, I didn't pretend to ignore 
him. The previous three times, I had been tempted to give him a 
thorough looking over, but I was trying to avoid any obvious perving. 

The first time I saw him riding up my street, my heart skipped. He 
looked about nine or ten years old. He had a mop of unkept, 
shoulder-length, wavy, blond hair that gave him a wild look. His bare 
chest, arms, and legs had a light, golden tan. The loose shorts he was 
wearing were shorter than most boys wear them, these days, but not 
quite as short as what I wore, when I was his age.

I was surreptitiously admiring his broad shoulders when he reached the 
end of my street, turned around, and rode back, more slowly this time. 
I had my own bicycle up on a stand at the opening of my garage. I 
pretended to continue working on it as he rode by.

He rode to about the middle of the block, then turned around, again. As 
he went past, his eyes were fixed in my direction. On that fourth pass, 
I waved and said hello.

He continued riding only about another thirty feet, then turned around 
and sprinted up my driveway, stopping just in front of me.

"I don't think I've seen you around here, before," I said.

His attention was focused on my bicycle, and for a moment, it didn't 
seem as if he knew I was there. He shuddered, as if to bring himself 
out of a trance, blushed just a little, then shyly said, "Yeah, my mom 
and I just moved in, yesterday. Do you work on bikes?" He was looking a 
me, now, with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Well, I not particularly good at it, but I keep my own bicycles 
running. Why, do you have a problem?"

I looked down at the dry, rusty chain on his bike. I guessed that his 
bike was a couple of years old and hadn't seen oil or wrench in all 
those months.

"Yeah, my chain comes off, sometimes, and it doesn't want to shift 
right."

"I'm just finishing up. If you'll hang around a bit, I'll have a look 
at it."

"Um, I can't pay you, or anything."

"No need."

"Thanks!"

I gave the brakes a quick adjustment, then took my bike off the stand.

"I'm just going to put my bike inside. I'll be right back. Don't go 
away."

His eyes followed me up the walk to my front door. When I came back 
outside a moment later, he was squatting next to my tools, looking them 
over.

I put his bike up on the stand and went to work. I pulled the cables 
and cleaned the housings, then greased the cables before restringing 
them. As I worked, I explained how to adjust the derailleurs, showing 
him how the limit screws--properly adjusted--would keep his chain from 
coming off.

He watched with fascination, as if I were working some kind of magic. 
He was very close to me the whole time, looking over my shoulder or 
under my arm as I moved from one part of the bike to another. I was 
reminded of one of the reasons why I like children: They have an 
enthusiasm for things that adults have long become bored with.

I tried to focus on the bike, but his physical closeness was making my 
heart flutter. Besides which, I was wearing only a loose-fitting pair 
of shorts, myself, and I didn't want an obvious bulge scaring him off.

After I had attended to everything I could do without new parts, I took 
the bike down and presented it to him.

"There you go! Give it a whirl."

He hopped on the bike and rode it cautiously into the street. After 
about a hundred feet, he accelerated quickly and flew off down the 
road. He made several high-speed runs up and down my street, then flew 
up the driveway and stopped in front of me. His face was beaming.

"Wow! That's great! It's never shifted that good, before! It's like a 
new bike!"

I couldn't help chuckling. "I'm glad you're happy with it!"

He stood there, straddling his bike, as if he had something else to 
say, but was hesitant to do so.

"Is there something else I can do for you?"

He looked down at the ground and mumbled, "No, I just...never mind: 
it's silly."

"That's okay: Boys are allowed to be silly, from time to time." He was 
still staring at the ground. "Ask me anything you want. I won't laugh 
at you, or think you're dumb, or anything like that."

"Well, I just moved here, and I haven't met anyone, yet--besides 
you--and I was just wondering if I could, maybe, like hang out with 
you--just for a little while."

I suppressed another chuckle (because I had promised not to laugh at 
him), but I couldn't suppress the smile. "You really want to hang out 
with an old man like me? Your parents probably wouldn't approve of you 
associating with some strange guy you just met."

"My mom doesn't care where I am," he said, with a little too much 
bitterness for someone his age, "And I don't have a dad. Well, I guess 
I must have a dad, but he hasn't been around since I was a baby." Then, 
with the bitterness replaced by just a little pleading, "I won't be any 
trouble."

There was nothing I wanted to do more at that moment than to hang out 
with a gorgeous, half-naked little boy, but one can't sound too eager 
in such a situation. "Okay," I answered, with mock hesitancy, "But 
don't blame me if you get bored."

He laid his bike down and followed me through the garage and into the 
house. He kicked off his shoes in the utility room (he wasn't wearing 
socks), and I caught myself staring at his tanned, bare feet. He caught 
me, too.

"My mom doesn't like me tracking dirt into the house. Besides, I really 
don't like wearing shoes. I usually just wear them when I ride my bike."

"Oh? So you, like, go to school barefoot?" I teased.

"No! I mean when I'm playing." He noticed me trying not to laugh. "You 
know what I mean!"

"That's fine! Make yourself at home. I'm going to wash my hands."

He followed me as far as the dining room, where he saw my bicycles by 
the front door. "Wow! You have *two* bikes?"

"Yeah, you already saw my road bike. That's my mountain bike."

"They look like they cost a lot."

"They're not top-of-the-line, or anything, but they're better than 
average. I usually buy good things and take care of them so they'll 
last."

I left him to ogle my bikes while I went through my bedroom to the 
bathroom to wash my hands.

When I came back, I found him sitting at my desk (in what, I think, is 
supposed to be a living room, but which I use as an office).

"You got a lot of computers, too!"

"Don't get too excited: I don't have any games on any of them. I'm a 
computer programmer, and I work from home quite often."

"That sounds like fun. What kind of programs to you write?"

"Boring accounting-type stuff: inventory, accounts payable--all kinds 
of stuff you probably have no interest in--but I enjoy it."

At that moment, he became interested in slouching down in my 
high-backed chair and slowly spinning in it. He had the heal of each 
foot on either corner of the seat, with his legs casually spread open. 
He gave a push off the desk each time it was within reach to keep 
himself going. Each time around, I got a glimpse up the loose legs of 
his shorts, which were bunching up. I was fairly sure he wasn't wearing 
any underwear, but I couldn't quite see far enough.

"Hey! You know what? It just occurred to me that I don't even know your 
name. Mine's Mike."

He let the chair slow to a stop, facing me. I had to concentrate to 
keep my eyes on his face instead of on his open legs. After a few 
seconds, I realized that his eyes were focused on the bulge that had 
started to grow in my own shorts. After several seconds of silence, he 
suddenly looked away and blushed slightly.

"My name's Josh." He looked back up at me with a mischievous grin. "You 
have a big one."

I laughed. "A big one what?"

He ignored my feigned ignorance, then looked down and said softly, 
"Mine's really small." He looked back up at my face to see my reaction. 
Even though it was clear that he wasn't buying it, I continued to play 
ignorant.

"What are you talking about?"

He giggled, then spun around in the chair a few more times. He stopped, 
facing me, again, looked me in the eyes, and matter-of-factly asked, 
"Do you want to see how small it is?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and tugged on his shorts. He 
let them fall to his ankles, then stepped out of them. He stood there 
for what seemed like a very long time--standing straight up, with his 
feet about shoulder-width apart, staring down at himself.

I was both mesmerized and nervous. I couldn't believe that an 
incredibly cute boy, whom I had just met, was standing in front of me, 
completely naked, showing himself off to me.

He looked up at me, raising his head no more than he had to to look me 
in the eyes. "It's really small, isn't it?"

I decided to play it cool until I got to know him well enough to know 
whether or not I could trust him.

"You're a boy; it's supposed to be small. It'll grow bigger when you 
get older."

He looked back down at his penis. It really was one of the smallest 
ones I had ever seen. It was soft, and it looked like it wasn't even an 
inch long. It wasn't even long enough to hang down: it just sort of 
stuck out from his body like a little bump. He pinched it a few times 
between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, then he gave it a 
little tug and let it go.

"My mom says it's really small, but she thinks it cute."

"It is cute. It looks very nice on you. So, does your mom see you naked 
very often?"

Josh sat back down in the chair, this time with his legs sticking out, 
but still spread open. He looked up at me.

"Yeah, I usually go naked after my bath. My mom says that when I was 
little she used to have trouble keeping clothes on me. She said I used 
to take my bathing suit off at the beach, and I'd try to take my shorts 
off when she took me to the park--stuff like that." He laughed. "She 
has pictures of me naked outside when I was like three or four years 
old!" 

Then he lowered his voice, like he was revealing some horrible scandal. 
"At our old apartment, they were on the wall in the living room so 
anyone who came over could see them!" He giggled.

"Do you like having people see you naked?"

"I don't care," he said, flippantly. "My mom says I'm starting to get 
too old to be naked in front of her, but I still do it because I like 
it--and, I think it annoys her."

"Why do you want to annoy your mother?"

"I don't know. Does it bother you do see me naked?"

"No, I like seeing naked boys."

He laughed--and blushed, just a little.

"Do you think it's funny that I like seeing boys naked, or do you think 
it's funny that I'd say it out loud?"

"Are you gay?"

"No. I like women, but I also like looking at naked boys. And besides, 
what do you know about being gay?"

"Everyone knows about being gay! If you're not gay, than how come you 
like looking at naked boys?"

"Have you ever seen something that you really liked? A car? Or a 
painting? Just something that you really thought looked cool? I happen 
to think boys' naked bodies are something beautiful to look at."

He laughed, again. "Do you like looking at me?"

"Yes. You're very handsome. You have broad shoulders, a muscular chest 
and arms, a flat belly, long, muscular legs, a cute butt," he laughed 
at that one, "and the cutest little boy parts that I've ever seen!"

He laughed even harder. "See? Even you think it's small!"

"Josh, like I said, a boy's penis is supposed to be small. You have no 
need for it to be any bigger than it is. When you get older, it'll 
grow."

"My mom says that my dad had a small penis, too--even when he was grown 
up."

"Does it work?"

Josh gave me a puzzled look.

"Does your penis work? Can you pee with it? Does it get stiff when you 
play with it?"

Josh blushed and looked away.

"You do play with it, don't you?"

He got even redder.

"I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I was once a boy, myself. 
All boys play with their penises. They don't tell anyone because 
they're afraid that the other boys will make fun of them--and they 
will, even though they play with their own penises." Josh's 
embarrassment was turning to giddiness at hearing an adult talk about 
such things.

"It's strange. Every boy thinks he's the only one who plays with his 
penis, and he's scared to death that someone will find out. It's funny 
because everyone already knows, but no one talks about it. I'm sure 
your mom knows that you play with your penis."

Josh giggled and gave me another mischievous grin. "I do it in front of 
her, sometimes. Sometimes, when we're sitting on the couch, watching 
TV, I'll start playing with it until I get a stiffy. Most of the time, 
she just pretends like she doesn't notice, but I see her watching me 
out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes, she says, 'If you're going to 
fiddle with yourself, go do it in your bedroom.'" He laughed.

"Wow! I never would have been brave enough to play with myself in front 
of my mom when I was your age!"

"I don't do it very often--just when I really want to annoy her. Look! 
It's gotten stiff just talking about it!"

Josh's little penis had lengthened to almost two inches. It was still 
sticking straight out from his body without any hint of pointing up or 
down. It was perfectly round, and the tip was just peeking out from his 
foreskin.

"You know, Josh, I could get into a lot of trouble if anyone found out 
I had a naked boy in my house--especially a naked boy with an erection! 
It's one thing to be naked in front of your mother..."

Josh looked up from his penis with a confused look on his face. "You 
mean, like, in trouble with the police?"

"Yes..."

"I won't tell anyone!" he said quickly. "You aren't mad at me, are you?"

"No, Josh, I'm not mad at you. To be perfectly honest, I'm actually 
enjoying seeing you naked, and I'm flattered that you trust me enough 
to be naked in front of me. I'm just saying that I could get into a lot 
of trouble, so you shouldn't tell anyone about this--especially your 
mother. You can tell her you met me, and that I fixed your bike for 
you, but don't tell anyone about you being naked or us talking about 
naked stuff. Okay?"

"I won't! But you have to show me yours!" he giggled almost 
uncontrollably.

"My what?"

"You know!"

"No, I don't. I have to show you my what?"

Josh was giggling almost too hard to talk. "Your penis! You know what I 
mean!"

"Yes, I just wanted to hear you say it." Without ceremony, I removed my 
shorts and tossed them over the back of another chair. Josh's eyes went 
wide.

"Wow! You're really big!"

My penis was in a semi-hard state from our conversation and the 
presence of a gorgeous, naked boy. It was thick and about five inches 
long. I let Josh look at it for about fifteen or twenty seconds, then I 
wrapped my hand around it and stroked it until it got to its 
fully-erect seven inches. I dropped my hand to give Josh a good view.

Josh climbed out of the chair and knelt in front of me. I felt his warm 
breath on my penis as he examined it close up. Hesitantly, he reached 
forward, paused for a moment, then cautiously gave my penis a gentle 
squeeze between his thumb and fingers. He looked up at me with the 
biggest grin on his face.

He wrapped his hand completely around my penis and gave it a few more 
squeezes before letting it go and standing up. "You won't tell anyone I 
touched your penis, will you?"

"No, and you'd better not, either!"

"I can't believe how big it is!"

"Well, I'm a grown up. Have you ever seen a naked man, before?"

"A few times--at the beach or pool--but none of them were as big as 
you!"

"It's probably a little larger than average, but it's not all that big. 
You'll get bigger when you grow up. Right now, I like you just the way 
you are."

He blushed and smiled at me.

I sat down in the chair and pulled Josh into my lap. I placed my left 
hand on the side of his cute little butt, and I placed my right hand on 
the thigh closest to me. I gave his leg a quick rub on the top, then 
reached my fingers to the inside of his leg. I smiled when he spread 
his legs a little bit for me.

I rubbed the inside of his thigh, then across the top to his belly, 
which I rubbed for a little while before moving back down the other 
leg. I rubbed around and close to his little boy parts, but avoided 
actually touching them. He'd hold his breath each time I got close, 
then let out an almost-imperceptible whimper when I'd move away. I 
enjoyed teasing him for while.

After several minutes, he wrapped his right hand around my penis and 
awkwardly stroked it, as if trying to show me what he wanted me to do 
to him. I slipped my fingers under his testicles and ever-so-lightly 
caressed the skin of his scrotum. He gasped, and his penis twitched.

His testicles were of matching size for his penis. His scrotum was thin 
and loose, but it was still difficult to find his little jewels inside 
his sack. Once I did find them, I gently rolled them between my thumb 
and finger--still taking care not to touch his penis.

Josh's breathing became irregular, his body began to quiver, and his 
penis was twitching more often. He began to stroke me harder and 
faster. His motions were jerky and unpracticed.

At last, I reached up and wrapped my hand around his penis--completely 
engulfing it. Josh's whole body shuddered. He gasped, let go of my 
penis, and grabbed my arm with both hands, squeezing it tightly. Then 
his body went limp, and he fell against my chest, breathing hard as if 
he had just run a hard race. I felt his penis go limp in my hand and 
retract back into his body so that there was hardly anything left to 
hold.

Once his breathing had slowed, Josh looked up at me with a big smile on 
his face and laughed. He turned his body so that he was straddling my 
legs, wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and rested his head against 
my chest.

After another minute or so, he looked up at me with his chin pressed 
into my chest. "That was good!"

"Have you ever done anything like that, before?"

His chin tickled me when he shook his head, "No."

"Doesn't your mother ever rub your penis for you?"

"No!"

"You ever do this with any of your friends?"

"No!"

I hugged him close to me. "Do you want to do this again, sometime?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay--but remember: you can't tell anyone!"

He nodded again.

For the next few days, I enjoyed having a naked boy hang out with me, 
and Josh enjoyed having his naked body massaged and caressed all over 
by me. I always saved his penis for last, and he always had his orgasm 
within seconds of me touching his penis--and his orgasm always involved 
his entire body and was always accompanied by an equally-convulsive 
series of grunts and moans.

The best part was cuddling with him when he was finished. It would last 
perhaps five minutes, then it was as if a switch were thrown, and he'd 
jump out of my lap and ask what we were going to do today.

I didn't just mess around with him--though that was my favorite part of 
his visits: I played catch with him in my backyard, I shared my comic 
book collection with him, I mixed cornstarch with water and let him 
play with it on my dining room table. It was a lot of fun having him 
around, and I was reminded of how lucky I am to be able to have a job 
where I can do most of my work from home.

I let him decide what we would do, each day. My only condition was that 
he had to be naked the entire time he was at my house--a demand with 
which he had no trouble complying.

The following Thursday, he showed up at my house with a girl.

"This is Sarah!" he said, when I opened the door, then he walked right 
in as if nothing more need be said. I invited Sarah in, closed the 
door, then gave Josh a questioning look.

I got a confused look, in reply, then Josh explained, "I met her 
yesterday. She lives on the next street over."

Sarah was as cute of a girl as Josh was a boy. She had long, silky 
blonde hair that came down to about the middle of her back. She was 
wearing one of those bikinis that look like a too-short tank top with a 
skimpy pair of shorts. Like Josh, she was wearing sneakers without 
socks. She removed them after seeing Josh remove his.

"Hi, Sarah. I'm Mike, by the way." I said that last part as much to 
Josh as to Sarah. Josh shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "What?!" 
Sarah seemed to understand.

"I hope it's okay that I'm here, Mike. Josh said it'd be alright."

"Of course, Sarah. You're welcomed to be here. I'm just a little 
surprised, that's all. Josh didn't tell me to expect anyone."

"I just met her yesterday," Josh complained.

"Josh told me you're some kind of computer guy, or something," Sarah 
said as she walked over to my desk and examined the array of machines.

"Yeah, I'm a computer programmer." With Sarah's back to me, I gave Josh 
a firm, questioning look. He seemed to finally get it.

He came close and whispered to me, "I didn't tell her *everything* 
about you!"

I'm pretty sure that Sarah heard him because I just caught a smile from 
the corner of her mouth, but if she did hear, she pretended not to have 
noticed.

"How come you have two bikes, and how come they're in the house?"

"They're in the house because I don't want them to get rusty, and I 
have two because one is for the road, and the other is not for the 
road."

"How come you don't keep them in the garage?"

"Because I keep my cars in the garage, so there isn't room."

Josh walked over to Sarah and whispered, "He has two cars, too!" Now I 
was certain she had heard him, earlier.

"You have a nice house," Sarah said as she continued to wander around.

"I like it."

"Can we show Sarah that thing with the cornstarch?"

"Sure!"

At first, Sarah had seemed, perhaps, just a little stuck-up--like she 
was humoring both me and Josh by deigning to make an appearance 
someplace in which she had no interest, but I soon came to the 
conclusion that it was just the way she acted when she was 
uncomfortable and felt as if she were intruding. After a few minutes of 
playing with Josh, she seemed more like a cheerful little girl--and she 
had a smile that would melt anyone's heart.

While Josh and Sarah marveled over the wonderful thing that is 
cornstarch and water, I returned to my desk to quickly finish up the 
task that I had been working on when they had arrived. I kept glancing 
over at them, from time to time, getting as much fun out of watching 
them play as they were having playing.

Josh and Sarah were seated on either side of one of the corners of the 
table. I began to notice that, every so often, Sarah would brush her 
foot up against Josh's foot or leg. Josh never said anything. At first, 
he just moved his foot or leg out of the way--totally unconcerned that 
Sarah "accidentally" bumped him. After a while, he quit making any 
attempt to move away at all.

I smiled as I realized that eleven-year-old Sarah was flirting with 
not-interested-and-not even-aware ten-year-old Josh! She kept moving 
closer to him, and she was soon brushing her arm against his and 
putting her face very close to his when examining whatever it was he 
was wanting to show her.

Just as I was finishing up my work, Sarah reached forward with a 
wet-cornstarch-laden finger and touched Josh on the nose. Josh pulled 
back, startled, then a devilish grin came over his face. He took his 
soddened right hand and flicked it towards Sarah's face, landing a 
considerable glob of white paste across her left eye, nose, and right 
cheek. She screamed and Josh let out a demonic laugh.

Josh went for another shot, but before he could get it off, Sarah had 
grabbed one of his wrists in each of her hands. My heart jumped, for I 
had visions of them rolling to the floor and splitting both of their 
heads open on the tile, but Sarah deftly spun around behind Josh, 
passing her arms over his head without ever letting go of his wrists, 
then sat down in Josh's chair with him on her lap, and her arms and 
legs securely preventing him from moving more than a squirm.

Josh struggled, but Sarah as too strong for him. It was rapidly 
becoming very indignant for him to be so constrained by a girl.

"Let me go!"

"Promise you won't throw any more gunk at me."

"Let me go!" Josh struggled some more, but he was obviously not going 
to go free until Sarah decided to let him go free.

"Promise you won't throw any more gunk at me."

"You started it!"

"I only put a little dab on your nose; you flung a whole handful at me!"

Anger and frustration turned to embarrassment and brooding. "Okay, 
fine! I promise!"

"You promise what?"

Then a little more softly, "I promise not to throw anything more at 
you."

The instant Sarah relaxed her grip, Josh bolted from her lap. 
Unfortunately, he caught his foot either on Sarah's leg or the leg of 
the chair, and down he went. I rushed forward to catch him, but Sarah 
was way ahead of me. She grabbed hold of his hips and let the momentum 
of his fall bring her to her feet. This checked Josh's fall. He now 
looked like he was doing pushups, with his feet on the floor on one 
end, his hands almost touching the floor at the other end, and his butt 
in the air suspended by Sarah's hold on his hips.

She let him down easy, and once she felt his weight on his hands, she 
started to let go, but Josh bolted, again. Her hands caught on his 
shorts, and they came down as he scrambled away. I don't know how, 
given that his penis is so small, but the front of his shorts managed 
to catch, sparing him the indignity of total nudity.

Josh spun around, propped himself up on his elbows and feet, and 
quickly pulled his shorts back on. Then, he sat on the floor 
cross-legged and sulked. Sarah did a very poor job of trying not to 
laugh. So did I.

Somehow, Sarah had managed to escape with only the one glob of 
cornstarch on her face, which she was now wiping away in an attempt to 
hide her laughter. Josh, on the other hand, was a mess.

In an attempt to wipe the dab from his nose, he had gotten a whole 
face-full from his own hand. In the ensuing scuffle, he had gotten wet 
cornstarch on his chest, in his lap, on his legs, and on his shorts as 
he had pulled them up just moments ago. He looked miserable and quite 
pathetic. And Sarah and I could not help laughing.

I knelt down next to Josh, and--as much as I could without making a 
mess of myself--I gave Josh a hug and tried to console him.

"Are you okay? You about gave me a heart attack! No more rough-housing 
over my tile floors! I thought I was going to have to clean up brain 
off my floor!"

"She started it!"

"All I did was put one little dab on your nose!"

"She tried to pull my pants down!"

"She tried to save you from splitting your head open on my tile floor! 
She succeeded, too!"

"She saw my butt!"

"It's no big deal!" Sarah said, nonchalantly. "I've seen naked boys, 
before."

Unfortunately, Josh seemed to take the "no big deal" comment 
differently from how Sarah had intended it. I gave him another hug.

Sarah came over and sat on the floor in front of Josh.

"I'm sorry I put gunk on your nose."

Josh continued to pout.

"I'm sorry I saved you from splitting your head open on the floor."

Josh tried very hard not to smile, and mostly succeeded.

"I'm sorry I pulled your pants down."

He was less successful, this time.

"And--I'm sorry I saw your cute little naked butt."

Even Josh had to laugh at that one.

"Okay, time to clean up!"

After we had gotten most of the cornstarch off the dining room table, 
the chairs, the floor, and Josh, I took a look at Josh's shorts.

"Dude! Those shorts have got to hit the washing machine."

I had intended to offer Josh one of my t-shirts (I loved boys in 
t-shirts with no pants!)--and the dignity of changing behind a closed 
door--but before I could say anything, he shucked off his shorts and 
handed them to me. Sarah and I were equally flabbergasted, which amused 
Josh to no end.

"Dude!"

Josh just laughed.

"It's okay, Mike. Like I said, I've seen naked boys, before."

"Oh, yeah? Where?"

"I see my cousin naked all the time. He's three years old, now. I've 
changed his diaper, and I've taken a bath with him."

"You let your boy cousin see you naked?" I teased.

Sarah took the question seriously. "He's only three!"

"Yeah, well Josh is a little bit older than three."

"I've seen my best friend's brother naked, and he's eight."

"When did you see him naked?"

Sarah suddenly realized that she had said more than she had ever 
intended, but seeing that I was apparently comfortable talking about 
it, she continued.

First, she blushed a little and giggled. "When I first started changing 
my cousin's diaper alone, I used to check out his wee wee."

Josh rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's a penis!"

"I know what it's called! When I started taking baths with him, I used 
to play with it. At first, I pretended I was washing it. He seemed to 
really like it when I touched him, so I started rubbing it a lot with 
my bare hand instead of the wash cloth. One day, my aunt walked in on 
us when I was rubbing him. I was so embarrassed!

"She didn't say anything right away, so I thought maybe I'd gotten 
lucky, and she hadn't seen me, but later, she took me aside and had a 
talk with me. She told me she saw what I was doing, but she wasn't mad, 
and I wasn't in trouble. She said that boys liked having their penises 
'tickled,' as she called it, and it was okay for me to tickle Brian's 
penis--that's my cousin, Brian--but it was a private thing, and I 
shouldn't tell anyone." Sarah stopped, suddenly, and blushed.

"It's okay, Sarah. Josh and I aren't going to tell anyone."

She continued. "When I got home, I told my best friend, Lisa, about it. 
At first, she thought it was gross, then she thought I was making it 
up. Then, she started to wonder if her brother, Jacob, liked to have 
his penis tickled.

"We talked him into getting naked for us. Lisa was going to tickle his 
penis, but she chickened out, so I showed her how to do it. Jacob 
really liked it! Then Lisa did it. Now, every time I go over there, he 
asks me to tickle his penis. Lisa does it for him almost every night, 
right before they go to bed.

"We both got curious about older boys, so we decided to try it on Alex 
and Ryan--they're both eleven and in our class at school. They live on 
the same street as Lisa. Alex and Ryan thought we were trying to play a 
trick on them, but Jacob got naked, and I tickled his penis. After 
that, the two of them couldn't get out of their clothes fast enough!" 
Sarah laughed.

"Ryan's seven-year-old brother, Sasha, found out and threatened to tell 
on us--until we tickled his penis. Now, Lisa and I do all the boys. 
We've even done some of there friends when they come over to visit."

With all this talk of tickling, Josh's penis had risen to full staff. 
Sarah knelt in front of Josh and casually grabbed his penis. Josh tried 
to pull away, but Sarah placed her other hand on his butt and pulled 
him back. After a few seconds off handling, Josh stopped trying to pull 
away.

Sarah gently pulled back Josh's foreskin and carefully examined the 
head of his penis before letting it go.

"You're so small!"

Josh blushed.

"My cousin is only three, and his is bigger than yours!"

Josh tried to cover his boy parts with his hands, but Sarah brushed 
them away.

"Sarah," I explained, "It's embarrassing for a boy to be told he has a 
small penis--especially by a girl."

Sarah looked up at Josh, and, for the first time, realized that she had 
embarrassed him.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I didn't mean anything. I've just never seen one so 
small, before."

"That's okay," Josh replied. At the moment, he didn't seem to care how 
small it was--as long as Sarah was rubbing it.

"Sasha has a really big one! It's even bigger than Ryan's or Alex's!"

Sarah had Josh's penis between her thumb and the side of her bent index 
finger. She was stroking it slowly, firmly stretching the loose skin 
down towards his body, then relaxing and letting it slip back up. With 
her other hand, she had started to roll Josh's testicles around. She 
didn't have much room to work both hands, because of Josh being so 
small, but she managed quite well. It was obvious that she was rather 
experienced.

Equally as surprising as seeing an eleven-year-old girl proficiently 
stroking a ten-year-old boy, was seeing how casual she was about it. 
She continued talking as if we were all watching TV or eating lunch.

I could tell that Josh was getting close to orgasm. I was further 
surprised when Sarah stopped stroking him just before it happened. Josh 
let out a faint whimper. After about ten or fifteen seconds, Sarah 
started stroking him, again. This wasn't an accident, for she kept 
doing it: She repeatedly brought him close to the edge, then stopped 
before he could orgasm. This went on for a good five minutes before she 
finally let him finish.

Josh fell forward, catching himself on Sarah's shoulders. Sarah helped 
steady him by holding his hips. Once he had regained his balance, Sarah 
raised herself up, and still on her knees, hugged Josh around the waist 
with her head against his chest. She held him like that until his 
breathing slowed.

And then it was over. They both went back to being little kids wanting 
to know what game was next.

I put Josh's shorts in the washing machine. He had no trouble at all 
going naked for the rest of the morning. Neither he, nor Sarah, nor I 
said a word about it--but Sarah did use any excuse to brush up against 
him, touch him on the shoulder, back, or buttocks, muss up his hair, or 
otherwise make frequent physical contact with him. Josh showed no sign 
of either liking or disliking it--or even being aware of it.

They left me just before lunch--both promising to return the following 
morning. I smiled and wondered what summer would be like.