Confession of a Boy Lover – Chapter 4

For a while, things returned to normal across the street. A month or two after Jem’s sleepover, I was writing up an investment strategy for a client when the doorbell rang. It was a Saturday morning, and I wasn’t expecting anyone.

Donna and Jem were standing there. Summer was almost upon us and the weather, even for Colorado, was warm. Jem wore a tank-top and a pair of shorts. His hair, still a tangled mess, touched his collar. He grinned up at me. Donna wore a long, flowing sundress. Her hair almost looked on fire when the sun reflected from it.

Donna said, “Hi Jack. Jem’s been pestering me for a few days to come over and ask.”

I raised my eyebrows in curiosity. “Sure. What’s up?”

Jem butted in, “It’s my birthday, Jack. I’m ten!”

I leaned forward and rubbed his hair, “Congrats, dude. You’re out of the single digits now.”

Jem said, “Yeah. We’re having a party this evening!”

Donna said, “Yeah. We wanted to invite you to it. It’s the least we can do.”

Both cars were in the drive across the street. I asked, “Yeah. I’ll come. When and where?”

Jem jumped in, “Our house. Six. There’ll be hot dogs and cake!”

Donna smiled apologetically. “He’s pretty hyped up. We’ve invited some kids from school.”

I nodded, “Cool. How are you and Wes?”

She glanced down at Jem, “You know how it goes. One day at a time.”

I knew a thing or two about just trying to survive. Things were still rough. I said, “You guys need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”

She smiled wistfully at me and then surprised me when she stepped forward and hugged me. It was over in an instant, but the feel of her breasts against my chest caught me off guard. “Thanks, Jack. Jem thinks the world of you. And frankly, so do I.”

Just to make it complete, Jem charged me with his own bear hug. He nearly bowled me over as he wrapped his arms around my waist and gripped me as hard as possible. I couldn’t help myself, and my arms wrapped around him, patting him lightly on the back.

Once they had left, I wondered what kind of gift to give Jem. Since the weekend when he had spent the night, I’ve gotten to know the boy better. Although he hadn’t stayed over again, he came over a couple of times a week, just to water the flowers and hang out with someone where the tension wasn’t so thick. As a guy, I was a firm believer that cash makes the best gift. And after thinking through Donna’s potential objections, decided to give him the gift that keeps on giving–cash.

I finished the article I had been working on and made a trip by the ATM and a store to pick up a birthday card. I was a bit nervous about what to expect. Aside from Jem, I was pretty serious about avoiding boys in general.

That evening, I headed across the street. I got there a bit early and found the Nelsons in their backyard. There were streamers and bunting and a long folding table covered with baby-blue paper tablecloth. Jem raced over and gave me another earth-shattering hug, “Hiya, Jack!”

“Happy birthday, sport!”

He grinned, enjoying the pet nicknames I gave him. I handed him the birthday card, “Here’s your gift.”

Jem’s face fell. I guess he was expecting a present. I leaned close and whispered, “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

With that, his smile returned, and he bolted off, pretending to be an airplane, flying low between the tables and chairs.

Donna came over and gave me another hug. She was still wearing the same outfit. Her breasts still pressed against my chest when she hugged me, “Thanks for coming, Jack. Not sure how many kids will be here, now that school’s out.”

Thirty minutes after the party was supposed to start, there were a grand total of three kids at the party, and that included Jem. And the other two were twins, a boy and girl. Jem tried to behave like he was excited, but having gotten to know him, I could see the disappointment.

The kids were in the yard, playing with a remote-control car. I was close enough to hear their conversation. The boy, Dillon, said, “This is pretty cool. I don’t know why Dallas didn’t want me to come.”

Jem froze in position on his knees by the car, “What? Dallas told you not to come? Is that why it’s just us?

Dillon shrugged, “Dallas is a dork. He said you’re gay.”

Jem handed the controller to the girl, Megan, “Here Meg. It’s your turn.” Then he turned back to her brother, “What? Why’s he think that?”

The other boy said, “You’ve got long hair. Dallas says only gays wear their hair long.”

Jem frowned and didn’t say anything else, only taking back the controller when Megan finished playing with it.

The twins and their mom were gone by seven thirty and although the sun was going down, there was still light in the sky and I joined Jem playing with the remote-control car. While I steered the little car around the Nelson’s backyard, Donna waved me over to where she and Wes were folding up the table and chairs.

With my ten-year-old shadow following, I came over, “You guys need any help?”

Donna said, “Wes and I are really glad you could come over. Although I still think your gift is overly generous for a birthday gift, Jack.”

I shrugged, “Jem’s a good kid. I’m sure he’ll enjoy spending it.”

I could see that even though Donna and Wes were trying for Jem’s sake, they were still struggling. When you knew what to look for, it was there. I knew it wasn’t my place to intrude, I added, “I know you guys are going through a rough spot and wish I could do more.”

Donna said, “Thanks, that means a lot. Wes and I were wondering. There’s a marriage retreat this coming weekend. We were going to take Jem to see Wes’s mom, but he’s been badgering me to see if you would let him stay with you. It’s just a couple of nights.”

While I really enjoyed having Jem around, I wasn’t blind to my growing attraction to the boy. I was trying to figure out how to diplomatically decline, when I felt the boy’s arms wrap around my waist, “Please, Jack. I promise I’ll be good.”

My resistance to the request crumpled under Jem’s assault of love. I said, “Sure, Donna. Jem’s welcome anytime.”


I was in the office when I heard a noise from the front of the house. Then my favorite cherubic voice, “Jack! You home? You said I’m welcome. Right?”

I chuckled. I glanced at the clock in my office. It was in the middle of the afternoon on Friday. It was a bit early, but that’s also why I had left the front door unlocked. I bookmarked the PDF I was reading and got up and stretched. I found him still standing in the doorway, his backpack slung over his shoulders.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, “How’s my favorite ten-year-old?”

Jem’s eyes lit up like the sun when he saw me. “Hi, Jack. You’re not upset that I came over early, are you?”

I came over and ran my fingers through his hair. It was below the collar. If he didn’t cut it, by the end of the summer it would touch his shoulders. “Not at all. As long as your parents know where you are, that is.”

He glanced back across the street, “Um, well, they were talking in their bedroom. I couldn’t really tell if they were arguing or not. So, I thought I’d come on over.”

Being single, I had no idea about marriage counseling or if going on some kind of retreat would help Donna and Wes. It wasn’t really my place to get involved. I was pretty sure I was too involved already. I pulled my phone from my pocket and found Donna’s name, “Let me check with your mom.”

Donna answered on the fourth ring, “Oh, hi Jack. I hope your still able to watch Jem this evening.”

I said, “Yeah. Your little munchkin showed up early.”

She said, “Goes to figure. Wes and I have been discussing things. I guess Jem heard through the walls.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, well enough,” Donna said, “We’re both hopeful. If he’s in the way, send Jem back home and we can drop him off when we leave.”

I glanced down at Jem’s hopeful expression, “He’s cool. I’ll put something on the TV for him while I finish up my work day. Any special instructions?”

Donna said, “I know it’ll be like a slumber party, but don’t let him stay up too late. Things with Wes have made his bath-time more difficult. He’s become a lot more needy lately. I’ve been giving him baths for the past few weeks. So, don’t be surprised if he asks for help. If that makes you uncomfortable, I guess a couple of nights without a bath won’t kill him.”

I moved away from Jem, allowing a bit of privacy, “No problem, Donna. If it bothers you, he can take a pass on a bath.”

I heard her sigh. Her voice fell to a whisper, “God, Jack, I think you’re the only man I trust right now. The jury’s still out on Wes. Jem adores you, and if you can get him to take a bath, more power to you.”

I said, “Okay. Jem and I will be fine. You and Wes try to go and enjoy yourselves. I’ll send your rug-rat home whenever you’re back on Sunday.”

Donna said, “Thanks a bunch, Jack.”

I walked back over to Jem, handed him the phone to let him say his goodbye. Then I set him up in the living room with some DVDs and finished the afternoon in my office.

I knew I wasn’t setting a good example for Jem, but I ordered Chinese takeout for us as we settled in and watched Cameron’s Avatar. After we finished our takeout, I kicked my feet up and rested them on the coffee table. Jem settled in next to me and did the same thing. At some point, he leaned against me and I responded by putting an arm around his shoulder.

I was still holding onto my vow. I actually felt pretty good about things as I realized how much Jem needed an adult to anchor his life and give him some stability. I knew the best way to do that was to keep my thoughts away from my attractions and focus on being there for him.

Once the movie was over, I said, “Your mom said you needed a bath. Get yourself a bath and we’ll watch another movie before bed.”

Jem jumped up and said, “Cool, I wanna watch Diary of a Wimpy Kid.”

I got up and headed to the bathroom where I started the water. When Jem came in, he said, “Do I have to take a bath tonight?”

I felt the clinginess vibe Donna had described. I beckoned him over to me and pulled him in and smelled his hair. There was a hint of boyish sweat. That musk of unwashed childhood. I said, “You could probably use a bath, buddy.”

He looked up at me, “Okay. Can you give me a bath?”

I knelt down and looked Jem in the eyes. I could see the stress of his parents’ damaged marriage in them. Even though he was a couple of months older than the last time we were in the bathroom, Jem’s carefree spirit was damaged.

I bit my lip as I considered his request, “Well, do you think your mom would be okay with it?”

He surprised me, “I think so. When she gave me a bath a couple of days ago, I asked if you could give me a bath this weekend.”

Donna’s earlier admission made sense. This was surreal. Here I was, a boy-lover given permission by Donna to bathe her son. Yet, instinctively, I knew I couldn’t take advantage of Jem. I said, “Okay. You want me to step out while you change?”

He shook his head, giggling, “Why? You saw my thing last time.”

With that, he took his shirt off and then removed his shorts. Instead of the superhero underroos, he wore a pair of plain white briefs. His cheeks colored as he lowered them to the floor, revealing the little noodle I had seen two months prior.

He stepped into the tub and sat down in the nearly hot water. Try as I might, I wasn’t able to ignore Jem’s gems. It was substantially unchanged from the last time; a soft noodle ending in the perfect helmet shaped little head.

I reminded myself I really needed to not stare, so I grabbed my soap and lathered my hands and started to wash his back. Once I finished his back, I said, “Let’s get the front, shall we?”

When he swiveled around, he said, “Do you want me to stand up? So you can wash me easier?”

Uncertain about how to answer, I said, “What does your mom do?”

“She just washes me sitting down.”

I shrugged, “You do you, bro. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He stood up and faced me. I grabbed a wash towel. It was one thing for me to wash his back with my bare hands. But as I lathered the little towel, Jem said, “You can use your hands. They feel better than the washrag.”

I felt an old familiar fluttering in my stomach as I touched his shoulder, rubbing the soap against his skin. Working my way down his thin chest, over nipples that barely registered as such. I tried to be deft in my touch when I reached his belly. From there, I shifted to his feet, lathering up his impossibly smooth ankles, going to just above his knees. By the time I finished, I realized Jem was cupping his penis with both his hands.

I flushed red, worried I’d done something. “You okay, bro?”

Jem’s rosy cheeks were just as red as mine, “Um, yeah.” Then in a voice no louder than a whisper, he said, “I got a stiffy.”

Part of me felt bad for him. But part of me knew it was a likely result of him flashing himself in front of me, especially when I’ve been running my bare hands over his little body. I said, “Happens all the time, bro. Do you want to finish the rest yourself?”

He bit his lip, thinking. After a rather long moment, he shook his head and dropped his hands to his side. I gasped. From its little one-inch softness, it filled out, stretched and pointing toward the ceiling. He was about two inches. His tiny balls still pulled tight at the base of his thin rod.

I knew what I wanted to say. But also knew I’d not dare to say it. Instead, I said, “Alright, big guy, I’ll wash your legs and thighs. Okay?”

Jem nodded, and I resumed working up his legs with the soap, only stopping when my knuckle accidentally grazed his scrotum. I washed his hips, coming midway around to his front on both sides, stopping a few inches shy of his little erection. At that point, I said, “Okay, buddy, I’m pretty sure, your mom doesn’t want me to wash that last part.”

Jem giggled, “Probably not.”

I stood up and said, “Let’s wash your hair and then you’ll be done.”

As I rinsed his hair with the U of Colorado cup, I said, “You know, standing up like this is a bit like taking a shower. Have you tried that at your place?”

Wiping water from his eyes, Jem said, “No. Mom’s afraid I’ll slip and hurt myself. Do you take showers?”

“Yeah. Been years since I took a bath.”

Once the shampoo was out of his hair, I grabbed a towel and dried his hair. Then worked my way down his back. I shouldn’t have, but I enjoyed rubbing the cloth across his bare backside. But his soft cheeks felt delicious under the towel’s protective covering.

When I turned him around, his little nail still stuck up in the air. I rubbed his torso dry, coming all the way down to just above his pubic area. Then switched and dried his feet and ankles, working all the way up his legs to just short of his erection.

I stopped, “Um, Jem, you want to finish drying yourself?”

He blushed as he took the towel and finished the job. Then he grabbed a pair of clean white underwear and put them on. His little nail was still poking out, but I tried to ignore it, “Nice underwear, bro. What happened to the superhero underwear?”

Jem handed me the towel, “Dunno. I guess I outgrew them. Men wear this kind of underwear, right?”

I hung the towel to dry, “Some do. Some wear boxers. There’s no right or wrong choice.”

His voice grew soft, “But you do. Right?”

My face felt hot, “Yes. That’s right.”

Jem pulled his toothbrush and toothpaste from the backpack, “Then this is what I want to wear.”

After he finished brushing his teeth, Jem said, “Can we watch a movie in your room?”

Worried what someone might think if they knew I had a ten-year-old boy in my bedroom in just his tighty-whities, I said, “Did you bring some pajama bottoms to wear over your underwear?”

Jem shook his head, “No. Why?”

I followed him into my bedroom, “Well, your mom might not like the idea of you sleeping in my bed in just your underwear. You think?”

Jem’s face grew pensive, “We could tell her I slept on the couch. Like last time.”

I sat on my bed and pulled him toward me, “Jem, do you really want to keep things from your parents?”

He shrugged, “They’re keeping secrets from me. And you letting me sleep in your bed isn’t a big deal. Is it?”

I looked around the room, trying to think about how to say what I wanted. “Let’s say that your friend Dillon, slept over at an older friend’s. What would you think if Dillon slept in just his underwear with the older friend?”

Jem’s eyes grew round as he connected things in his head, “Oh. That!”

Then, for whatever reason, the boy giggled. “Okay. I’d think that maybe they really like each other.”

I nodded, “So, what about watching a movie in the living room?”

Jem sat down next to me, “Um, Jack, I’d rather watch it back here with you. Even if it meant not telling my mom. Can we? Please.”

I sighed, uncertain about where things would end up with Jem. “Yeah, bro. That’s fine.”

He was asleep by the time the movie finished. I turned off the TV, leaving the only light in the bedroom a lamp on the nightstand. I stripped down to my underwear and looked at the boy asleep on my bed. We matched. I felt confused, knowing how much Jem had come to mean to me. I was attracted to him, there was no denying it. And also, a powerful urge to protect him from the pain he was going through.

Unable to resolve my internal conflict, I decided not to put on my boxers and climbed into bed, pulled the covers up over us and turned out the light.

The next morning, I awoke to a nearly naked boy sprawled across half my body. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jem’s head nestled against my chest. His torso was pressed against my stomach and abs, and his underwear touched mine.

Regrettably, I awoke with my morning wood straining against my underwear. Not so regrettably, I felt something poking against my hip, where Jem’s crotch pressed. I was of several minds, and only one of them was remotely the right thing to do. I needed to untangle myself, letting Jem continue sleeping and go to the bathroom. I was determined to not be that guy who takes advantage of the sleeping beauty beside me and roll him over to gawp at the erection tenting his underwear.

I moved my leg, ready to slide the rest of the way out of bed when I felt a hand slide across my chest and an angelic voice say, “Mm, morning.”

I froze in place, hoping he wouldn’t notice something that only a blind man wouldn’t. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

A few moments passed as Jem moved his head against my side, “Oh, wow. You got a stiffy too.”

So much for that. Jem, Blind Pew he wasn’t. I said, “Yeah. Happens to all of us, bro.”

Jem rolled onto his back, his stiffy quite evident in his underwear, “Yeah,” he giggled, “We’re twins!”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, something like that.”

He propped himself up on his elbow, “Dude,” that’s something he said when he was trying to be cooler than his ten years, “You’re, um, thing is huge.”

I took that moment to roll out of bed, “It just seems like that, bro. I’ll be right back, gotta pee.”

In the bathroom, I pulled the front of my underwear down and was waiting for my erection to go down enough to pee when I looked down beside me. Jem was so close, his shoulder grazed my elbow. He pulled his underwear down, revealing his erection.

Startled, I pulled my underwear up, “Dude, what happened to privacy?”

The crestfallen look on Jem’s face broke my heart, as he said, “B-, but I thought you wouldn’t m-, mind.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, as tears welled in his eyes, “Hey, Jem, it’s okay, man. You just startled me.”

He sniffled, “So, it’s okay to pee together?”

The correct answer was no, it’s not okay. I knew I should’ve said that. Instead, I said, “It’s up to you, bro. But it’s definitely not something your mom would approve of.”

With one hand Jem wiped at his tears, with the other one, he took hold of his penis and aimed for the water below, “Okay. It’ll be our secret, big bro.”

It’s hard enough taking a piss with a morning wood. Throw in a ten-year-old boy, and I stood there willing myself to urinate. I felt something slide through my urethra and just before anything happened, Jem said, “Dude.”

Damn, I thought, as my bladder seemed to hide. I glanced over at Jem. He was holding his little nail, apparently with no more success than me. “What?”

He said, “You’re, like, huge. And hairy.”

I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled. Only a tween would think five and a half inches was “huge.” And hairy? Not quite. I said, “By the time you’re fifteen, maybe sixteen, little bro, you’ll be as big, and probably hairier.”

Jem wagged his little nail around in the air, “You think so? I’ve seen some of the other boys at the urinals and I’m not very big.”

That little hard tube of flesh waving over to the toilet was perfection, as far as I was concerned. I pulled my hand away from my erection, giving Jem a better look, “Sometimes, bud, I feel the same way. There are guys bigger than me. I try not to let it bother me, and you shouldn’t either.”

With that, I took hold of my erection. I had gone too far; I was sure of it.

Jem grinned up at me, “Thanks, bro. I still think you’re huge.”

I chuckled as I finally managed to coax out a thin stream of urine. A moment later Jem joined his stream, and we pissed together.

Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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