Рок Верхтер

Sander

The week after Sander's photo session was packed with excitement, and not only because of Sander, although most of it was due to my little friend. Naturally, I was more than just a little bit curious about his pictures. I was fairly sure that the combination of Patrick's skills and Sander's immaculate looks could only result in the most excellent set of photographs I'd ever laid eyes on. What made it extra special was the fact that the boy had been the instigator, the one who'd come with the idea to offer me an exclusive album of pictures of himself. How I looked forward to the next weekend, when I would finally see the outcome of Patrick and Sander's artistic collaboration.

Besides the pictures, Sander's story about his 'show me yours, I'll show you mine' experience ran through my mind on many occasions, especially when I sat at home doing nothing constructive. Of course it happened more than once that I imagined Ruben, whom I did not know, and Sander did more than just a quick peek. It made me feel a bit guilty to think of the boys that way, but it wasn't unlikely that this close encounter was only the beginning of a special journey of discovery just about any boy goes through in his life. And after hearing my little friend talk about it so openly, I was pretty sure I'd be informed about every future event of boy naughtiness.

But as I said, Sander wasn't the only reason for excitement this week. I have already mentioned the Australian plans my firm was working out. I was never really informed about how things went with that, but I could easily tell that the bosses were getting more and more anxious about it. A large meeting was held on Thursday morning, one where a simple pencil pusher like myself didn't take part of.

Mark, Sander's football coach at Racing Doomkapelle and my college, did get an invite, as he was a few steps above the ladder from me. When he returned from the meeting, shortly before lunch, I could tell large things were at foot, which could only mean that the Australia chapter of Shinku was now officially created. Mark was sworn to secrecy, for now, but I knew it wouldn't take long before I heard more of the matter.

The news came the day after in a communiqué sent to my email at work. What I had already figured out was true: Shinku would be opening a new branch in Australia within the next two years. They still needed to find the ideal place on the massive island to install the plant. A study by a whole bunch of economical engineers had already communicated with the authorities Down Under, asking for legal information and boring stuff like that. The result was that they'd picked Brisbane as the most ideal area to work in, because of it's harbour and it's proximity with Auckland, New Zealand. In the mail, they said that they'd be soon sending a delegation to Brisbane to get to know the environment of the town and to find a location where they could build the factory. It was not yet decided who would take part of the delegation, but it would soon be revealed.

I never understood why the Japanese mother company in Kyoto would ask us Belgians to make all the arrangements, but then again, I'm only a low scale secretary, happy to have found a steady job to finance my small house and, even better, to spoil the most amazing little boy rotten. Australia did sound nice, but I knew I would never be asked to tag along with the big guns of the firm. Besides, it would mean I'd have to miss Sander for a while… Incredible how a young boy can have such an effect on a man's life, isn't it?

My weekend started a few hours earlier than usual. I had done some overtime the past few weeks, so I decided to take up a few hours and took the afternoon off. I didn't have any special plans, but I wanted some extra time to myself. And the living room needed dusting and cleaning, so those extra hours would come in handy. I picked up some groceries on my way home, had a quick lunch of microwave mac-and-cheese and then got to work, dusting the furniture and mopping the floor until all of downstairs rooms were sparkly clean.

Having only a small house, the job was done faster than I'd expected. Not planning to go out anymore, I went outside through the back to stall my car in the garage. As I opened the gate, I heard a very familiar voice coming from the other side. I turned to where the voice came from and was greeted with an even more familiar smile.

"Hey, there, buddy," I said, happy to see Sander showing up.

He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, telling me that he was on his way home from school. His school was only a ten minute walk from where he lived, so he always went by foot. This was the first time since we'd met that I'd seen him come home after a long day of reading, writing and doing sums and he seemed equally surprised to see me home.

"Hey, Uncle Rob!" Sander greeted me, as cheerful as ever. Next to him stood a boy slightly taller than him, dragging his books and pens behind him in a bag on wheels. We were the second week of May and the weather was really nice and warm enough to skip jackets and all that. The woollen hats and gloves and shawls had been put away for the summer, so they no longer covered up the faces of the children.

Sander's friend was definitely an eye catcher, but could never compete with my Little Prince. I suppose you could say I was biassed, because Sander had become so special to me, but I believe even a passer-by would agree with me. Still, the boy standing next to my Little Prince deserved some credit. As I already told you, he was slightly taller than Sander but had the same slim figure as my neighbour boy. He had greenish brown eyes that looked at me a bit dumbfounded, most likely wondering why Sander was so happy to see me. His hair was light brown and rather short and a bit unkempt. All in all he seemed like a nice kid.

"School out for the weekend, huh?" I stated the obvious.

"Uhuh, yep," Sander nodded. "We were on our way home to do our homework together."

"Get the boring stuff out of the way so you have a whole weekend for fun, huh," I concluded. "Good on you! Just, no cheating!"

"He, he, we can't cheat," Sander giggled. "This is Ruben, remember? He doesn't go to the same school as I do, but our schools are not far from each other, so we always walk home together."

A-ha! A face to the name of the boy who'd persuaded (with little effort) my little friend to reveal himself to him. "Nice to meet you, Ruben," I greeted the boy, offering my hand. "I'm Robert!"

A bit shakily at meeting this stranger, he shook my hand. "Hi," he simply replied. He then turned to Sander, probably for help and some explanation as to who this man was.

Sander picked up on Ruben's silent request for information. "This is Uncle Rob," he told his friend. "He's the coolest guy ever!"

"Is he the one who took you to see Despicable Me?" Ruben asked.

Apparently Sander had already mentioned me to his friend. I suppose it's only to expected that he would do so… I did wonder just how much he'd told Ruben. "Guilty!" I said, answering his question for Sander.

"Oh, I'd love to go see that movie, too," Ruben complained. "My folks never take me anywhere. You're so lucky!"

"Yeah, I am," Sander simply agreed and for emphasis, he wrapped an arm around as if to tell his friend I was his.

"Well, maybe if Sander's up for it, we can always go see it again. Or another movie, if you want," I said, trying to find out if Ruben would accept an invitation by a man he'd only just met. "That is, if you don't mind an old bloke tagging along and if your folks agree."

"That'd be awesome," Ruben beamed, accepting the invitation. "I'd have to ask my parents, first, though."

"Sure," I nodded and then I turned to Sander. "You wouldn't mind if Ruben comes with us on our next trip to the movies, would you, buddy?"

See, I had to ask to make sure that inviting his best buddy to join us didn't breach the exclusiveness of our friendship. I needn't have worried, though. "No, it's cool," Sander said. "When do we go?"

"Aren't you an eager little bugger," I chuckled, once again infected with his enthusiastic nature. "Not this weekend, we've got other plans, remember. Why don't you discuss it with your grandmother and then she can inform Ruben's parents about who I am, exactly. I'm a stranger to them, so they might not be too keen on their son going places with a guy they don't know."

"Okay," Sander said. He then nudged his buddy and pointed in the general direction where he lived. "Let's go and do our homework, now."

"Yep," Ruben said and already walked away, taking small steps so Sander could catch up with him.

"What plans do we have, then?" Sander asked when Ruben was almost out of earshot.

"Don't you want to see your pictures, then?" I returned his question.

"Oh, right," he remembered, grinning from ear to ear. "I'd kinda like to go swimming, too," he suggested.

"Sure thing," I nodded, favouring his suggestion. "Just ask your grandmother and tell her to call me so we can make the necessary arrangements."

"Okay, I will," Sander promised. He then stood on his tippy toes and gave me quick peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, uncle Rob," he said as he walked away. I waved him goodbye as he sprinted to where Ruben was waiting for him. When he joined Ruben, he waved back and then turned around the corner.

Happy with the surprise encounter with my Little Prince and to have met his best buddy, I drove the car into the garage and then went inside, deciding on a bit of Zelda. Swimming could be a fun activity and a tricky one. I had to make sure to get a good pair of speedos to wear underneath my swim shorts, so the effect of seeing Sander and rough housing with him in the pool didn't show.

During the rest of the afternoon and evening, I pretty much held my cellphone close, expecting a call from Annie to let me know how things would go this weekend. After all, no matter how many plans Sander and I made, we still depended on his grandmother to actually spend time together. She had been very generous with allowing her grandson, so far, to which I was immensely grateful. That album with the pictures of Sander during that final tournament of the season would make a perfect gift and should be ideal to show my gratitude and that I do indeed care a lot for her grandson.

After dinner, I started to think that there would be no Sander-time this weekend, or that she might wait till the day after to inform me of what she'd decided. But then, while I was doing the dishes and thinking about what I could do in case my little friend couldn't make it this weekend, when the doorbell rang. I dropped everything I was doing (well, put it down… dropping the plate you're washing isn't a good idea) and quickly went to answer the door.

"Hey, Uncle Rob!" the most angelic voice chanted as I opened the door. The door was only barely open when the playful sprite that was my precious little neighbour boy jumped into my arms. I caught the munchkin, dressed in a red and blue checkered button shirt and burgundy jeans, in my arms and welcomed him with a warm loving hug and a long wet kiss on the forehead.

It was only when I put him back down on his feet that I noticed a sports bag sitting next to him, by the entrance. "Moving in?" I asked, pointing at the bag.

Sander turned to where I was pointing and then giggled cutely. "Hehe, no. Just some stuff that granny told me to bring."

"I see," I nodded, wondering what was going on. "Better come inside, then, before people think you're trying to sell me vacuum cleaners."

Laughing at my silly jokes, my little friend picked up his bag and carried it inside, dropping it next to the couch. Next, he sat down on the couch and looked up at me with a bright smile, clearly very happy about something.

"So? What've you got in there?" I asked as I sat down next to him.

"Well, remember when you said that it wouldn't be bad to have some spare clothes here for when I get to stay at night?" Sander reminded me.

"Yes, I remember," I nodded.

"Well, I told granny about it, after Ruben went home, and she thought it was a pretty good idea, so she packed a few things for me," the boy explained.

That was a big surprise. Not the fact that Sander had actually asked, I knew he would do that. But the fact that Annie had agreed to it, was something I hadn't expected, at least not so soon and pretty much without asking me why I'd made the suggestion. After all, the afterthought of having some of Sander's clothes at my place was to allow him to stay with me longer than a single night. Had my little buddy also mentioned that?

"Does this mean you get to stay the night again, after we go swimming tomorrow?" I asked, not yet indicating that I suspected his stay might be prolongated.

"Hehe, yeah," Sander nodded, grinning cutely.

"Cool!" I smiled, already happy with an afternoon in the pool with my little guy, followed by a relaxing evening and most likely a cuddly Sunday morning. "When do I pick you up, tomorrow?"

"You don't," the boy giggled, clearly enjoying himself teasing me like that. Then, like a frisky little kitten, he clambered onto my lap, sat upright to face me directly and said, with an ear to ear grin on his face: "I'll already be here when we go swimming."

"So you are moving in for real," I replied after the initial shock had faded.

"Hehe, only for the weekend, silly," Sander replied, his grin still on his little mug. "When I asked if we could go, granny said it'd be better if I stayed the entire weekend, because she had three pupils in the morning and she wanted to go out shopping with a colleague in the afternoon."

"I see," I nodded, my heart doing a summersault out of sheer happiness. An entire weekend with the most amazing boy I'd ever laid eyes on was indeed a dream come true. That also meant complete freedom for Sander and I was wondering how quickly he realised that. "Then, why don't you take your gear upstairs. We'll put it away in the cupboard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Sander agreed and leapt off my lap. He grabbed his bag and sprinted up the stairs. Only a minute later he returned, reclaiming his position. "So, what do we do now?"

"Dunno," I shrugged as I put my arms around his hips for support. "It's still quite early, so maybe we can get a board game on the way. I don't have as many as you do, but I've got a few in the closet there. Why don't you check it out."

"Okay, cool," Sander said, again climbing off my lap. He got on his knees in front of the cupboard where my small selection of games was. Most of them still looked brand new, because I never really had people over to play them with. Some might even have been a bit difficult for a boy Sander's age. After checking a few of the boxes and neatly putting them back (at least I wouldn't have to worry about cleaning up after him during his visits), he fished out my Scrabble board. "How about this?"

"Yeah, sure," I nodded. "Go set it up at the table and I'll get us some snacks."

"Can't we play it here instead?" Sander proposed, pointing at the coffee table. "I mean, on the rug?"

Understanding that sitting on the floor to play was a bit more comfy than a the big table, I nodded and said: "Why not. We'll move the coffee table out of the way and then use the cushions from the coach to sit on."

"Cool," Sander beamed, happy that I'd followed his suggestion. "I'll just sit on the rug, though."

The boy then eagerly helped me put the table, which was easy to lift, next to the big dining room table, leaving the space wide open. A soft, fluffy rug made of (fake) sheep whoop laid on the floor. Having walked upon it with bare feet, Sander had already discovered the softness of the rug and it was only when the coffee table was out of our way and I returned with the promised snacks and drinks that I fully understood why he wanted to sit right there for our game of Scrabble.

My little sleepover guest had already unfolded the Scrabble board and shuffled the letters in the bag when I joined him on the rug. His shoes and socks had found their way out of reach, next to the couch. I sat down, making sure that the snacks and the drinks could not be accidentally knocked over. I shuffled back and forth a bit too find a comfortable position to sit in and then looked at Sander who had a mischievous look in his eyes.

"I know how I can make you lose this game," Sander announced as he saw me looking at him.

"Really, now? And how do you plan to do that?" I asked, wondering what he had up his sleeve?

"I'll play like this," he simply said.

And before I could react, he started unbuttoning his shirt. Yep, he'd connected the dots. A whole weekend with me pretty much meant more time to do whatever he wanted to, in the attire he preferred best: none. It was obvious that with his idea to sit on the rug, which was indeed soft and warm to the touch, he was dead set on making the most of his chance to be free of clothing.

I could only smile back at him as he grinned at me, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. Taking my smile as a go-ahead, his grin turned into giggles, his way to say thank you for allowing him his fun. Besides, his joy in being naked meant I would once again have the unique pleasure of seeing my Little Prince the way I liked him best. No matter how cutely he was dressed, nothing competed with the sheer natural beauty of his naked body.

My silent permission for him to carry on spurred Sander on to complete the transformation quickly. He only bothered with the top three buttons before pulling his shirt over his head. He flung the shirt onto the couch next to us and then quickly lifted up his blue t-shirt, once more revealing his perfectly shaped chest with the adorable pair of nipples and his lovely, ticklish belly with the cutest of belly buttons.

His t-shirt found its way to the couch as well and almost on auto-pilot, my little naturist friend's hands went for the button and the zipper of his jeans. He then bent his knees upwards and held onto the waistband of his jeans, shuffling his hips back and forth to inch the pants past his butt. Once they were no longer caught between his buns and the floor, he quickly slipped his pants down his legs and threw it on the growing pile of boy clothes.

A faint blush then appeared on his already rosy cheeks, more from the naughtiness than out of shyness. Not wanting to be waste more time then necessary, he now chose another tactics to undo the grey cotton briefs, which did all but hide the excitement the boy felt through his clumsy but adorable strip act. He rolled onto his back, bringing his knees to his chest, and then hooked his finger into the waistband of his undies. Faster than lightening, his briefs went down his hips, baring his rear end (and in that particular pose, granting a front row view on the most intimate part of his body). He remained on his back as he wriggled himself out of his underwear and then sat up, launching it on top of his clothing.

Completely naked, he then sat up, crossing his legs in front of him and looking very pleased with himself. Even though his stripping didn't surprise me one bit, I still found myself practically paralysed after witnessing his daunting little act from this close. On instinct, my eyes drooped down between his legs, where his little rocket stood ready for take off. Giggles escaping from Sander's throat told me he knew very well what I was looking at. And no matter how often I'd seen all of my Little Prince's amazing body before this moment, he was absolutely right about it being the perfect plan to draw my attention away from the Scrabble game.

As we started forming our words and trying to get triple word scores and all that, it quickly turned out that Sander had fooled himself as well. Neither of us were really into the game. My eyes kept stealing glances at the boy's body, while Sander would look up at me almost pleadingly. I knew there was only one thing my buddy really wanted. So, while Sander was fiddling with his letter cubes, not really trying to form a new word, I brushed my arm over the half filled board, wiping our poor efforts away. The board the flew aside and I held out my hand invitingly.

At first Sander was a bit taken aback with my bald move, but when he saw my outstretched hand, he realised I had picked up on his unspoken wish. With an ear to ear smile, he dropped the letters he held in his little hand and then spun around, moving backwards until he could plant his buns into my lap. With a deep sigh of content, he immediately melted into me and I gladly wrapped my arms around his frail body. I buried my nose in his hair, inhaling deeply to fill my lungs with Sander's scent and my hands were like spiders, going up and down the boy's body, once more enticed by the softness and the warmth of his bare skin.

We'd been sitting there on the rug in that warm embrace for a while, with Sander barely doing more than breathe, when he suddenly stirred and sat up to break free of my hold. "I gotta go pee," he practically whispered, almost as if he felt guilty for having to interrupt this heart warming moment.

I just smiled and nodded, letting him get up. I followed him with my eyes as he walked out of the room to attend to his nature call. I was enlightened to see that Sander had so quickly made my house his second home. At least it seemed that, going by how self assured he acted in everything he did while staying with me. Of course his preference to rid himself of his clothes during his visits topped all that and from his performance earlier, it was perfectly clear that he would no longer wait until bedtime for clothing free entertainment.

While he was out of the room, I decided to collect the Scrabble cubes again, not expecting to need them anymore. As I put the cubes back in the box, together with the board, some ideas for more fun games came to my mind. Games where taking off his clothes would actually be a reward for Sander, since he loved being naked so much. There's various card games that would do the trick, but the board games we played during my first visits at his place would do just fine as well. In this case, the general rule would be: the winner takes it all… off! Of course that rule only counted for boys aged nine, because I had no intention to follow his example, for two reasons. One, I was far less happy with my physique, and two, an adult should not get naked in front of a kid, at least not one who gets excited by the boy's appearance so easily.

My Little Prince returned from the bathroom while I was putting the Scrabble board back in the cupboard. He sat down on the floor, clearly liking the fluffiness of the rug against his buns. Looking for something, he turned his head back and forth and then crawled towards the coffee table, snatching the TV's remote control off it and returning it to his earlier position. He switched on the TV and started zapping through the various tables. Yep, Sander had made himself right at home, something I could only applaud.

The Scrabble board back in its rightful place, I walked over to where Sander was sitting and picked up our glasses for a refill. A rerun of some comedy show had caught his all attention, so he barely noticed me. It was only when I returned with the new refreshments and sat down on the couch that he looked up from the screen.

"Don't you want to sit here next to me?" the boy asked, almost reproachful for not having done so right away.

I immediately got up and repositioned myself next to my special little friend. He was leaning against the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him. To show him that sitting next to him was something I always wanted to do, I took hold of his hand and squeezed it gently. Sander smiled at me, glad that I had come to sit next to him as he wanted and then surprised me by slipping his other hand in mine and lifting it up and around his shoulder. Quick to recognise his desire for affection, I rested my hand upon his frail shoulder and then gently pulled him closer to me. As always, the boy allowed himself to squeeze in closely, resting his head upon my shoulder and laying his arm across my chest in a warm and tender embrace. A loving kiss on the top of his head, a sniff of his scent and a few rubs up and down his arm to warm him up a bit later, Sander's attention was back at the comedy show.

We both remained silent for the rest of the show. Every now and then Sander tried to snuggle into me a bit further and I would reward his by caressing his arm or back in soft, slow motions. With the night falling, the room had gotten a bit colder, too, so I started worrying a bit about Sander's comfort.

"Is it still warm enough for you, buddy?" I asked in a soft voice.

The boy just nodded, not even bothering to look up. Still, I could sense a bit of shiver running through his body. Clearly he was trying to look tough, or rather trying to avoid the need to cover up. I knew how much he'd grown to enjoy being completely bare, but I didn't want him to catch a cold. I had to convince him that him getting sick was not an option.

"You know, if you wrap yourself in a blanket, you'd still be naked," I told him, "just like when you're in bed."

"I don't want to," Sander whined, sitting up and looking at me as if I'd just made the worst suggestion ever.

I reached out and caressed his cheek and said: "Then, there's always the heating you can turn up a notch. Just not too much or I'll melt."

A big smile on Sander's face told me he liked that idea better. I pointed at the thermostat on the wall behind him and gave him the simplest instruction. "Just go and push the UP arrow on that thingy over there."

"Okay," the boy nodded, already sitting on his knees to be able to look where I was pointing.

Sander got up and the took the few steps to where the thermostat was, followed my instructions and swiftly returned to his spot on the rug. When he sat down in front of me, his feet under his butt and his hands resting on his knees, I couldn't help but feel a bit frisky. "There's also a fun way to make you feel warm," I grinned at him.

"How do you mean?" he asked, looking at me suspiciously. He definitely knew I was up to something.

Quick as lighting (at my age, that's not easy), I reached out attacked his armpits. "Like this!!" I shouted victoriously.

My surprise attack worked perfectly. Trying to back away from my grabbing hands, Sander lost his balance and toppled over on his side. This put his armpits out of harm's way, but his sides weren't, so my hungry fingers were there immediately. The boy's laughter sounded almost like a sheep bleating and he did a very good impression of the same sheep rolling over on its back to scratch an itch by rolling back and forth to shield the ticklish spots on his body. No matter how hard he tried, my fingers always found sensitive areas. All credit goes to my little playmate, though, because he lasted five whole minutes before he had too much and held up his hands, begging for mercy.

I might be a bit of a meany, but I'm not cruel, so when he begged for me to stop, I pulled back my hands. This gave me the chance to do check the results of my hard work. Sander lay on his back with his arms and legs spread out, panting heavily, his chest going up and down like a miniature trampoline. His cheeks were a shade of red as cherries and his hair was a complete mess. The rest of his adorable little face was just as flush with exhaustion. When I briefly looked down, I noticed that not only the temperature had risen. Yep, I had achieved my goal.

"See, I bet you're not cold anymore, now," I triumphed.

Sander grunted and then simply stuck his tongue out at me. Trying to look angry about my trickery, he dramatically crossed his arms in front of him and turned his face away. Of course I knew he was far from upset, but to make sure, I poked my finger in his sides, which were wide open due to his current position. Although the boy tried hard to fight it, giggles still escaped his throat and soon he was laughing out loud again as I started a second, less aggressive, round of tickling. That only lasted until he sat up on his knees and simply wrapped his slim arms around me in a loving embrace.

"I love you," he said, his voice a bit muffled as his face was buried in the crook of my neck.

I hugged him into me, one hand between his shoulder blades, the other supporting his posterior. It was only when we let go of each other again and looked into each other's eyes that I reciprocated his declaration of love. "I love you too, my Little Prince," I told him, holding both of his hands as he sat in front of me again, his buns resting on his feet. Like many times before, I didn't manage to keep my eyes fixed on his face. Out of habit and because he's so exceptionally gorgeous, I feasted my eyes on his body again. Soft giggles told me Sander was aware of my studying him so closely, but he just sat still, allowing me ample time to stare at him as much as I wanted.

Of course sitting still for too long doesn't go well with energetic boys like Sander. Although he loved the full attention I gave him, he also wanted our playing to carry on a bit. From previous visits I knew that roughhousing was something he didn't get to do much at home and my tickling attack had stirred his desire for some fooling around. In short, he wanted to play the naughty boy a bit longer.

That he was in the mood for some mischief became pretty obvious when he lifted his little butt up and put his hands on the floor, which brought his head right in front of me. He leaned forward a bit and rubbed his head against me. "Look, I'm a kitty cat," he said.

"Really now," I chuckled at his silliness. As he repeated the feline act, he made some purring sounds to make a more convincing cat. Amused by his little show, I reached out and scratched his ear. "The cats I had back home always liked it when I did this."

Giggling, he rubbed his shoulder against his ear. "That tickles," he said with a lovely smile.

"I bet it does," I winked at him. "When I did this to our cats, they'd roll over on their sides."

"You mean, like this?" Sander asked. While I still tickled his ear lobe, he slowly tipped over, laying down sideways, facing my way and looking up at me, waiting for me to carry on with our little game.

"That's right," I nodded. "Then, I would scratch their ears a bit longer and after that, I'd pet the cat from head to tail."

A thorough demonstration of Petting Cats 101 followed. I sat on my knees and started by running my fingers through his hair a couple of times, from his brow down to his slender neck. Then I followed the soft curve of his frail shoulder, letting my hand go up and down his arm and hand a couple of time, before moving further down his back. Slowly, I traced the softness of Sander's bare back as he lay before me, relaxing completely to my touch, his eyes fixed to mine and a contented smile on his lips. After every downward trip, I lifted my hand to repeat the journey, to implicate following a kitten's fur.

Wanting to keep the best for last, my hand then moved to the back of his legs, where I let it glide down to his knees, where ticklish sensations evoked some giggles from the little tom cat in front of me. I also covered his calves and toyed with his feet a while, before moving my hand back up. I laid my hand on his hip, a few inches above his rear end and held it still for just a few seconds.

"The tail was the last bit I'd do," I said in a soft voice. "I can't show you that, but I know one little kitty cat who likes me doing this instead."

Softly, my hand followed the curve of his butt cheek and roamed over his posterior. Sander giggled again as he felt my hand on his tush but barely moved a muscle, already quite familiar with my touching his rear end. After a little while, Sander turned over flat on his belly, allowing me to give his backside a full rub down that had a soothing, relaxing effect on him. It was only after a couple of minutes that he flipped over on his back, looking up at me with an ear to ear smile.

"Did you pet your cat's belly, too?" he asked, revealing to me what he wanted.

"Of course," I smiled down at him, my hand already resting on his chest.

Surrendering to my touch, Sander folded his arms under his head and simply waited for me to carry on with my cat petting demo. I rubbed his shoulders left to right and then went down his chest in a zigzag motion, feeling the bumps of his ribs through his delicate and soft skin. Going further, I reached his soft belly, which again proved to be very ticklish. I then let my hand roam all over his upper body, following a random path up and down and side to side to make sure I covered every inch of his torso.

The temptation to venture further down south was very present in the back of my mind, especially when my eyes met with his erect member. I was fairly sure that Sander wouldn't even mind if my hand 'accidentally' bumped against his privates. Still, as I vowed to myself from the very beginning, I steered clear of the boy's beckoning dinky, as he'd called it some days before.

It wasn't even because I was worried Sander wouldn't like being touched there… Somehow the idea that he might discover that being touched down there is actually not as bad as people made it seem. And because my little buddy always enjoyed my caressing his body, the chance that a first encounter with his privates would make him want me to do it as often as he granted me access to the rest of his body was quite real. That would eventually lead me to doing more than just brushing and rubbing, giving our friendship that sexual connotation that I strictly tried to avoid.

So, after rubbing his bare chest for a while, I moved my hand to his forehead and brushed the few loose strands of hair away from his brow. Luckily, he hadn't really taking much notice to me 'forgetting' about his boy parts, which would have risen some questions within his young, curious mind that I didn't quite know how to answer. What I did do was show him how much I really loved him by leaning forward and kissing his brow, letting my lips linger for a while. When I sat back up, he looked at me with the warmest, loveliest smile on his lips.

"You know, kiddo," I almost whispered to him. "Of all the kitty cats I've ever petted, you're my favourite."

"Really?" Sander mewed.

"You bet," I nodded. "You're bigger than all other cats, so there's a lot more of you to pet. Your skin feels a lot softer and warmer than a cat's fur, and I don't end up with hairs sticking to my fingers… and there's one thing I simply can't do with a cat."

"What's that?" the boy wanted to know.

"Roll over, so I can show you," I instructed him. Sander followed my command and turned over on his belly. I straddled his legs, sitting behind him and playing drums on his tush with soft slaps on his butt cheeks. "A cat doesn't have buns I can play bongo drums on!"

"Hey!!" Sander yelped as he felt the slaps on his posterior. Agile like a feline, he sat up and turned around, trying hard to look offended but failing miserably. "Meany!" he retorted, punching my arm in mock anger.

Feigning pain, I rubbed my arm where Sander punched it and I tried hard to look innocent. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," I apologised, winking at him.

Of course Sander knew it was all a game and he was more than up for it. He turned around again and got on hands on knees, wiggling his butt almost in my face. "You can play some more, if you want," he chanted. "If you can catch me!"

And before I could react and continue my little concert, he leapt out of my hand's reach and got up on his feet. It was the start of cat and mouse chase around the living room and the kitchen. The house is far from spacious enough for much running, but still, we had a ball and Sander mastered in dodging my grabbing arms. After ten minutes, when both of us got a bit tired, he decided to slip underneath the dining room table, right before I could catch him.

"You can't catch me! You can't catch me!" the little imp sang cutely, again wiggling his buns at me.

I no longer fit underneath the table and I'm not as lean as the little tomcat I was chasing, so I threw up my arms in defeat. "I give up!" I declared.

"Oh, already?" the boy whined.

"Yeah, you got me beat, buddy," I told him, heading for the lounge to flop down on the couch.

I sat on the couch for a minute or two when I heard some shuffling from behind me, telling me Sander was crawling out of his hiding space. He came standing before me and clearly understood that the chase was indeed over and that I had no more hope in catching him. Heck, even his dinky had gone back to normal. Oh, boy, was he wrong!!!

"And snap!" I said once he stood before me. I quickly wrapped my arms around him and within seconds Sander was over my knees, trying to wriggle free from my grasp. I slapped my free hand on his right butt cheek and then pinched it gently.

"Got ya!" I cried victoriously.

Feeling my hand holding his buns, Sander surrendered and stopped wriggling. He relaxed his muscles and now lay over my lap like a rag. "Okay, you win," he announced, his voice muffled a bit. "You can play the bongo drums again."

Of course I didn't want to overdo the butt slapping thing. I didn't want Sander to think his butt was all I wanted and I didn't want him to get bored with it. "You know, I'd rather you give me a hug," I said, holding my hand still.

Clearly a hug had been on the boy's mind as well. He swiftly turned around, made himself comfortable in my lap and then wrapped his arms around me. I embraced him, holding him closely and rubbed his bare back couple of times before letting go and looking him right in the eye. He smiled at me and then yawned before he laid his head back on my shoulder. I knew it was already past his bedtime and the cat and mouse chase had clearly drained the last bit of energy out of him.

"It's time for you to hit the hay, buddy," I whispered softly.

Sander grunted in protest, probably because going to bed would mean our playtime was over for the day. I gave him a couple of seconds extra and then gave his little butt a few gently pats to spur him into getting to bed.

"Come on, kiddo, time for bed," I said, a bit firmer. "Go brush your teeth. I'll clean up down here and then I'll come tuck you in."

Slowly he started crawling off my lap and then stood in front of me, stifling a yawn to not show anymore proof of his being tired. "Can't I sleep in your bed, tonight?" he pleaded, trying the puppy dog eye trick to persuade me.

"It's better if you sleep in your own bed, kiddo," I said, reaching out to brush some hair away from his brow. "I wouldn't want your snoring to keep me awake all night."

"Hey, I don't snore," Sander reacted quickly.

"Hehe, just kidding sweetly," I grinned and then put up a more serious face again. "I just want you to have a good night's rest. Go and sleep in your own bed, now. When you get up early to go to the bathroom or so, then you can always slip into bed with me. Okay?"

Still a bit disappointed that I wouldn't allow him a full night in bed with me, he nodded. I already knew I'd probably find him right next to me the following morning, unless he slept through the night. The reason why I kept sending him to his own room was that I wasn't quite sure how strong my resolve would be if we actually went to bed together. I just knew that I would want to hold him all night and maybe my own sleepiness would have a softening effect on the promise I'd made to myself to not let anything sexual happen between us. I had already been very close to crossing that line during Sander's kitten act.

So far, Sander had been very generous with his young body by letting me touch him all over. His constant tell-tale erection during our cuddling sessions and the back rub I'd given him earlier was evidence that he really enjoyed the physical attention I gave him. Luckily he hadn't offered his privates for touching, yet, but it was unlikely that he hadn't noticed me avoiding contact with those parts of his body. It wouldn't be long before I would have to explain my ignoring his dinky, though. Hopefully I'd find the right words to do so, without hurting the boy's feelings in any way.

I followed my little friend upstairs ten minutes after sending him off to bed. I found him in his bed, stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head, the covers only covering his feet. He smiled as I entered the room and I sat down beside him, returning the smile. In the dim light created by a lamp on his nightstand gave his bare skin a warm glow, highlighting the beauty of his young body. I rested my right hand on the center of his chest, letting it go up and down with his soft breathing.

"I'm really happy to have you here, my Little Prince," I said in a soft voice. "Tomorrow's gonna be a great day."

Sander nodded. "It was fun playing a cat, tonight," he grinned naughtily.

Flashes of our cat and mouse chase ran through my mind and I couldn't help but tickling his belly a bit, causing the boy to giggled and squirm on the bed. "You're a cute little cat, too," I said, winking at him. "You were right the other day when you said you wouldn't be wearing clothes much around here."

Even in the soft light I could tell he was blushing when he realised how bold he'd been to strip naked at the start of our Scrabble game. Even though he'd done pretty much the same when we were decorating his room, the intention was a bit different. Showing up in the doorway fully undressed while we were painting the walls had been a test to see how I'd react to his being naked. Stripping in front of me tonight was more like Sander making a statement, claiming his right to go bare whenever he felt like it. It was only after I made that remark that he became aware of how straightforward he'd been earlier.

"I probably should have asked you first," he said hesitantly. "You know, when I took my clothes off."

I took hold of his hand, squeezed it gently and smiled at him reassuringly. "You already know it's okay with me if you want to be naked. There's no need for you to ask when you feel like taking everything off. Just go ahead and do it, just like you did tonight."

"Really?" my little boy wanted to make sure.

"Sure! You obviously like it and I have no intention to spoil your fun," I told him. "All I will ask is that you take your clothes up here, so you can come put them back on in case we have unexpected visitors."

"Okay, I will," Sander promised, already happy to see his bare butt entertainment extended beyond Sunday mornings.

"And I don't need to tell you that this is our little secret," I added.

"Yep!" he said, his smile brighter than the poor little lamp shade beside his bed. He sat up and rewarded me with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before lying down again.

"Time for this little kitten to go to bed, now," I then said, getting up on my feet to pull the covers over his gorgeous body to get him all warm and cozy for the night. I leaned in for a goodnight kiss and caressed his cheek before leaving the room. As I looked back to close his bedroom door, Sander turned over on his side, watching me with droopy eyes as I left the room and croaked another goodnight wish to me before reaching out to kill the light on his nightstand and let sleep come over him.

I stood on the other side of his bedroom for a couple of minutes, a rerun of the events of the evening going through and thoughts of how the next 24 hours would go my mind. There were two certainties about the next day: the boy I had grown to love more than life itself would be with me all day and the clothes in the bag he'd brought earlier would not be worn much during this visit or the next.

I called it a day pretty quickly, cleaning up downstairs, returning the coffee table to its rightful place and picking up the clothes Sander had left unattended. I carried those up into the bathroom where they would most likely remain until we set out to go swimming the following day. There was also the visit to Patrick's Photo Studio on schedule. Somehow I couldn't shake the feeling that the result of his modelling session the other day would surprise me yet again.

---------

The following morning I was woken by a soft wrapping on my bedroom door. Before I recognised the source of the sound and identified the person making it, the door opened slowly and through eyes still adjusting to the first light of day, I saw a small figure walking in, carefully carrying a tray in both his hands, trying not to drop whatever the tray held.

"Good morning, Uncle Rob," the most angelic voice said softly.

My eyes adjusted to the light and I saw Sander carefully putting the tray down on the foot of the bed. To my surprise, he was slightly more covered than usual. The apron I always wear when cooking my dinners hid his bare front from view. Obviously my little kitchen prince had put it on for show and unknowingly he'd made himself look extra cute in it. The front part of the apron, being much too big for his small frame, hung loosely down his chest, the rim almost level with his nipples. The bottom almost reached his knees, covering his thighs. He'd done a poor job tying the ribbon in the back, making the apron a very loose fit. I couldn't see it with the boy facing me, but it didn't take rocket science to know that when he would turn his back to me, the ribbon would be pretty much the only thing covering his backside.

Still a bit drowsy and the dreamy picture before me blurred my better judgement when I returned his greeting. "You look adorable in that apron," I said, giving him a welcoming smile.

A blush appeared on the boy's rosy cheeks as he looked down at himself. "You think so?" he asked, giggling a bit.

I raised myself up a bit, supporting my head on my elbow and nodded. "With a handsome cook like you, breakfast can't come any better," I told him, hoping to let the adorable-comment slip.

"It's only cereal and orange juice and a slice of bread," Sander told me as he sat down next to me, already forgotten I'd just called him adorable, or not really catching the deeper meaning.

I put my hand on his knee as he sat beside me with his legs crossed in front of him and caressed his leg. "That may be, but it's made and served by the most amazing boy in the world. That makes it best breakfast I could ever wish for."

Sander's cheeks remained crimson red but he understood my words of gratitude. "Better get up and eat, then, before this amazing boy runs of with your breakfast."

I pinched his knees, which I knew to have a ticklish effect on the munchkin before sitting up. I leaned over to him, planted a wet kiss on his cheek and then turned to the tray he'd carried up to my room. I grabbed my bowl of cereal and stuffed a big spoonful in my face, crunching through the crispy cornflakes, showing him I would not allow him to steal away my food. He giggled as he observed me and then followed my example.

The next couple of minutes we spent wolfing down breakfast. We didn't speak until everything was devoured and the tray was put aside. It was Sander who ended the silent moment together. He turned 90 degrees to be able to look at me better and smiled cutely at me.

"What're we gonna do all day?" he asked.

"Besides swimming? Dunno," I shrugged. "I do need new swimwear, though, so maybe we can go to a sports department store before we head out to the pool."

"Oh, okay," the boy just nodded. "What about after swimming?"

"We can find ourselves something to eat after we get back and then go out some place or do something indoors," I suggested. "There's no need for us to plan the whole day in advance. We can do whatever we come up with then."

"Cool," Sander simple smiled. "Are we picking up my pictures, too, today?"

"That was part of the plan, yes," I nodded. "And since you're already here, maybe we can do it somewhere this morning. I must say I'm kinda curious about them."

"Hehe, me too," the kid giggled. "I hope you'll like the pictures."

"I'm pretty sure I will," I promised him, ruffling his already messy hair. "I'll give Patrick a call to tell him we'll be dropping by this morning, okay?"

"Uhuh, yep, cool," Sander nodded excitedly.

"Why don't you go and take a shower, first," I offered. "Maybe we can play a quick game or so before we head out."

"Okay," my little friend smiled. He briefly turned to the empty bowls on the tray and pointed at them. "I'm gonna take those downstairs first."

"I'll take care of that, buddy," I said. "You're the guest here, remember? Let me pamper you the way a good host should."

"Okay," he nodded. "I just wanted to do something back for you. You already do so much for me."

I reached out and caressed his cheek, smiling at him. "You being here with me is all I want, my Little Prince. Before you think otherwise, I really liked the breakfast you made for me. That was really sweet of you."

On his knees, Sander shuffled closer towards me and he wrapped his little arms around me in a warm embrace. "I love you, Uncle Rob," he said as he hugged me closely.

"I love you too, buddy," I reciprocated, holding him close to me. With my hands touching the warm, delicate skin of his back, I couldn't help but feeling a bit naughty. I brought one hand down to the already loosening ribbon and pulled at one end to untie the knot. "You won't be needing this anymore, today," I said teasingly.

Of course Sander felt the ribbon being undone, but did not bother to stop me from doing so. The knot undone, he sat up again, giggling cutely. "I thought you said I looked adorable in this," he said with a big toothy grin, stretching the apron out in front of him.

"You do," I nodded.

Still grinning and blushing faintly, he got off the bed and turned around to face me. "But you probably like me better like this." Upon 'this', Sander lifted up the apron, revealing his nakedness to me. The playful act had an effect on that part of his body that makes him the naughty little boy I'd grown to love. As he stood in front of me, his little dickie was slowly rising as if it were saluting me in person. The little imp didn't wait for my reply and slipped the apron over his head and flicked it in my lap.

"Rascal!" I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. I tried to grab him, but he daftly hopped out of my reach, giggling and sticking out his tongue for emphasis. "Go shower, silly kid," I told him.

"Hehe, okay," he giggled again, walking towards the door.

I watched Sander exit my bedroom and then got up myself, picking up the tray and the apron. When I left the room, I heard the shower being turned on in the bathroom. It amazed me how alive my otherwise empty house felt with Sander being there. His presence worked like a catalyst, bringing energy to my home and mostly to myself. The day was still young, but it would be the best day ever and I vowed to myself to make it the best day for Sander as well and treat him like the little prince he is.

When he came down fifteen minutes later, his hair still damp but neatly combed and his cheeks a bit flush from the hot shower, he came to me and wrapped his arms around me from behind, as I was sitting by the computer looking up new movie releases. He didn't say a word as he leaned over me, watching the screen with me. My free hand was on his arms, caressing them tenderly. It was only after checking a few of the trailers that I spoke to him.

"Want to use the computer?" I offered. "I still have to make that phone call to tell Patrick we're coming over in a bit.

"Okay," he simply said.

I got up from the chair and tapped the seat inviting him to sit down. He accepted the invitation with a smile and sat down, moving the chair closer to the desk to reach for the mouse. I saw him tap a few keys and then I heard the sounds of a game from the speakers. Knowing that he'd be focussed on his games for a bit, I gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and then went to the lounge where I gathered my phone and dialed the number to Patrick's Photo Studio.

After the quick phone call, which Patrick received with his well known friendliness and enthusiasm, I switched on the radio for some background music. I then went back to where Sander was still clicking away on some game, planning to join him. But as I approached him, it was obvious that he wasn't fully focussed on getting a high score. In between moves, his hand went down between his legs where he gave his erect dicky a few tugs. Sander was completely oblivious to my presence, unaware that I could see what he was doing.

It reminded me of that morning when I found him on the bed, flat on his belly, pushing himself into his hand while reading the comic book he'd brought up. I'd left him to it then, but this time I thought it was better to step in and remind him of the privacy of his own room upstairs. I had to choose my words carefully, though, because I didn't want to make him feel bad about what he was doing. He's a boy after all, and eventually all boys have done what he was doing. It was also the ideal moment to discover how much he knew about the birds and the bees. Not the biological part. Schools take care of that. More like the practical issues.

"Having fun?" I asked as I stood next to him.

His hand had been in his lap when I popped the question. In a flash it returned to the keyboard and I could almost feel the heat coming from his blushing cheeks. I knew quite well that being caught in the action is high up on the embarrassing scale and Sander was no exception, even if he'd sat naked before me many times by now. He feigned playing the game, but wasn't fast enough to get rid of the 'Game Over' notice on the screen. His cheeks crimson red, he turned and looked up at me, a bit fearful, probably thinking he was in trouble.

I smiled down at him and laid my hand on his head, running my fingers through his golden hair. "I think it's time for a man to man chat, don't you agree?" I said.

Sander swallowed deep and nodded, still a bit worried about what the outcome would be.

"Let's go sit on the couch," I suggested. "It's much more comfy for a chat there. And before you ask, no, you're not in trouble."

"I'm not?" he asked in a high pitched voice that told me he was still a small boy.

"No, don't worry," I said, shaking my head. I then beckoned him to follow me to the couch. "Coming?" I asked.

Sander nodded and got up from the chair. A bit ashamed he looked down and moved to hide his still erect boyhood. I didn't tell him not to, yet, because I understood how he felt. I was pretty sure that by the end of our chat, Sander would be his joyful, bashful little self again and hiding his erections would once again be a thing of the past. I sat down on the couch and waited for my little friend to join me. I was happy to see that he didn't suddenly decide to keep a distance between us, as he flopped down right next to me. To reassure him, I laid my hand over his shoulder and allowed him to get close to me.

As he got comfortable, I looked him right in the eye and said: "You really looked like you were having fun, back there."

Sander's blush didn't fade one bit. He hesitated a bit and stared back at me. Seemingly he didn't know what he could tell me just yet. Probably he hadn't expected that sort of remark from me.

"You didn't do anything wrong, buddy," I told him. "There's not one boy on the planet who doesn't… play with his dinky. And pretty much every boy will tell you that it feels nice when you do. So, just to make sure, I'm not mad at you or anything. Okay?"

Sander sighed and nodded. He then looked down at where his hand was still covering up his privates and then slowly removed it. To my surprise, the state of his dinky hadn't changed one bit. Somehow it made me think that maybe my little friend really wanted a man-to-man chat like this. Understandably, as I was probably the only man in his life he could trust to talk about delicate matters like 'playing with your dinky'. After all he had already told me about his adventure with Ruben.

"Anyway… Now that you know I don't mind you touching yourself like that, I think it's best to set some rules about it, no?" I told him, hopefully without scaring him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, curious about what this was about.

"Well, I don't really know if you were actually aware that you were doing it, just now," I said. "Maybe it just happened without you really thinking about it."

Sander blushed a deep red and looked a bit embarrassed at me when he answered: "My dinky kinda got hard when I was playing on the computer. I didn't really think about you being there when I started touching it."

"I figured as much," I said, smiling at him. "Well, whenever you're feeling a bit naughty like that, maybe you should go upstairs for a bit, so you can do it without me spoiling your fun."

"Okay," Sander agreed. He then looked up at me looking more serious than expected. "I don't really mind if you see me doing it, though."

I smiled down at him, not in the least surprised with what he'd just said and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "I know you don't mind, but it's still a bit awkward," I told him. "Although there's nothing wrong with playing with yourself like that, I'd still feel a bit better if you did it in private, without me as your audience."

"Okay, then," Sander nodded and then smiled naughtily. "As long as you will still rub my butt and cuddle with me."

"You can count on that, you little devil," I chuckled. With my left hand I poked his sides, tickling him and simply proving that he needn't worry about a thing.

Sander giggled cutely when my fingers dug into his ticklish waist. My gesture was enough to reassure him that nothing had changed between us. Playful like a kitten he then manoeuvred himself onto my lap and hugged me closely. I held him tight and let my hands travel up and down his back a couple of times before I moved them further down to get a firm hold of his supple butt cheeks. I kneaded them like dough, showing him that I'd pay ample attention to his little rear end.

We cuddled for a while until Sander sat up with a sigh of contentment. My hands rested on his buns and I briefly scanned his body, as I've done so many times. Our chat and the cuddling hadn't effected the state of his dicky one bit. He giggled when he saw me glance down at his erection. I felt a bit guilty for having interrupted his playtime, so I decided to allow him some time to finish what he'd started. At the same time I was wondering if he'd actually discovered ways to actually deal with his predicament, but I didn't quite know how to address the matter. It was Sander who picked up the conversation and steered it into a different direction.

"Did you mean it yesterday when you said Ruben could come to the movies with us?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure, why not," I nodded. "He seems like a cool kid and I thought you'd like to have your friend join us once in a while."

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Sander nodded. "So you like Ruben, then."

"I only saw him for the five minutes yesterday, but he made a good first impression on me," I said. "Don't worry. No matter how cool he might turn out to be, you'll always be my favourite."

"Hehe, okay," my buddy smiled. "But I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead," I said.

"Would you mind if he came swimming with us this afternoon?" Sander asked.

His request wasn't that strange and I had thought of that option. Although roughhousing in a pool with my Little Prince would be fun, I wasn't that good at swimming. So maybe having his friend join us would be more fun for Sander. Besides, I'm not getting younger and I just know that I'd never be able to keep up with him all afternoon. With Ruben there, he could play to his heart's content and it would give me the opportunity to get to know his little friend. Getting the chance to see Ruben in swimwear was of course an extra treat to my boy loving nature.

"Not at all," was my answer. "That is, if his parents are okay with it."

"Uhuh," Sander nodded.

"You said he lives close by, right? How about we make a quick stop at his place when we get back from the photo studio and invite him," I suggested.

"Cool!" my little friend happily agreed.

"Better go and get dressed, then," I told him. "Unless you plan to go to Patrick's studio like this."

"Hehe, no, I'd better not," Sander giggled, blushing a bit as he imagined himself walking into the studio buck naked.

Sander then got up from my lap, gave me another quick hug and a peck on the cheek and then headed out of the room and up the stairs where his clothes were. I switched off the pc, cleared the living room a bit and got ready to go out as well. Ten minutes later we were on the road, on our way to Patrick and the pictures he'd taken of Sander only a week ago.

As we got closer to our destination, I grew more and more curious about the pictures. Sander himself was also more fidgety than usual, being just as nervous about the result as I was. I turned on the radio to get our distract our minds a bit, but it didn't help much.

Fifteen minutes we stood at the front desk of Patrick's Photo Studio. The man welcomed us as heartily as ever and invited us to follow him to the room where he'd shown us the pictures he took during the football tournament. He sat us down on the couch and retrieved a whole set of albums and frames from the filing cabinet that stood on the other side of the room.

"First of all, I want to give you the album of the football pictures you want your grandmother to have," Patrick said as he sat down. "And I've framed that one photograph for you as well, as you ordered me to."

"Thanks," we both said, as he laid the album on the table and then pointed at the two frames, wrapped in brown paper, leaning against the wall.

"Next, I have made two albums of last week's shoot," the man carried on. "And I must say, they are fantastic. You really did a good job, Sander."

My little friend blushed at the compliment and smiled at me. I reached out and held his hand, a deep sense of pride creeping over me. Clearly the boy had made a very good impression on the experienced photographer. Patrick laid the pictures on the table in front of us, but as I was reaching for the first, Sander put his hand on my wrist to stop me.

"Is it okay if we wait until we're back home to watch them?" he asked.

"Sure," I nodded. "I thought you were curious, though."

"I am," Sander admitted. "But I kinda want it to be just us when we look at them."

"If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do, buddy," I said, smiling at him and caressing his cheek. It wasn't such a bad idea, actually, because it would make the moment where his pictures were revealed to me extra special, something reserved just for the two of us.

Having followed our little talk, Patrick said: "Does this mean I won't get to see your reaction when you see the pictures?"

"I'm afraid it does," I chuckled, seeing the humor in his remark. "Although you can probably imagine my reaction, because you've already seen the pictures."

"That's true," the photographer nodded. "You're in for a big surprise, I can tell you that."

"You're definitely making me curious," I admitted. "Better hurry home, then. Right, buddy?"

"Uhuh, yep!" Sander nodded cheerfully.

"That leaves us with the financial part of this transaction," Patrick concluded. He got up and beckoned us to follow him back to the front desk. When we got there, he said: "I'm only charging you for those football albums and the frames. I enjoyed working with Sander last week, so that one's on the house."

"That's really nice of you, Patrick," I said, grateful for his offer. "We won't forget this."

"Neither will I," the man smiled. "Sander will be one of those kids I'll always remember. As for the football pictures, that'll be 325 euros.(*)"

(*) To the people running a photo studio: I have absolutely no idea of what you charge, so I just entered a random number. Forgive me if I'm way off with the estimate.

Although it was a bit steep, I happily paid the man for the albums and the frames. They would make an ideal present for Annie's Mother's Day. The frame of that action shot of Sander during that tournament would be put up on the empty wall in the living room, giving me the pleasure of seeing his perfect appearance even when he's not with me. To Sander, it would be proof of how important he has really become to me.

A few minutes later we were cruising home again. We made a quick stop at a sportswear store to get me some swim wear for later that day. I also got Sander a brand new pair of goggles. He refused the small gift at first, but the bright smile on his face told me he was happy with the little present. Besides, I wouldn't make a good uncle if I didn't treat my favourite nephew to a little toy once in a while.

Next stop was Ruben's home. When Sander told me where his buddy lived, I was surprised to find myself in front of the bakery where I often bought my freshly baked bread. It had soon become my favourite bakery store, because the bread was really delicious and simply because it was at a walking distance from where I lived. So, unknowingly, I'd already met Ruben's parents, but I had never seen the boy in the store.

"Ruben lives here," I asked Sander for confirmation, pointing at the entry to the store.

"Yep," my little friend nodded. "His parents are really nice and his sister's not half bad."

"Okay, then," I said. "Should I go along while you invite Ruben to go swimming with us, or will you handle it on your own?"

"You'd better come with me so his parents can get to know you, too," Sander said cleverly.

"Right," I agreed. "Let's go and see if your friend's interested, then."

Sander nodded and skipped the few yards to the front door of the bakery and opened the door. I followed him inside and said hello to the woman who was behind the counter, serving an old lady. Glancing over at the entry when hearing the little doorbell ring, the woman immediately recognised Sander and greeted him with a warm hello.

"Hey, there, Sander," she said in a cheerful voice. "If you're looking for Ruben, he's upstairs in his room. Go on inside. You know the way."

"Okay, Mrs. Seghers," Sander answered politely.

The old lady had exited the store by then, so Mrs. Seghers, as I learned was her name, turned to me and asked: "What can I get you?"

Before I could explain my presence, Sander said: "He's with me. We're hear to ask if Ruben wants to come swimming with us this afternoon."

Knowing that the woman was wondering why Sander came into her store with a man she only knew as a regular customer to ask her son to join them later on, I moved forward and reached out my hand. "The name's Robert," I introduced myself. "I'm a close friend of Sander's and he's staying with me this weekend. He asked if Ruben could come, so I told him to check if it was okay, first."

"I see," the woman nodded. "So you're the one Ruben was talking about last night. He said you told him he could come to the movies with you someday."

"That's right, I did tell him he could join Sander and me, some day," I admitted. "Only if that's okay with you and your husband, of course. I only made the offer because he seemed excited about the movie we saw the other day."

"Of course," she replied. She finally shook my hand, saying: "I'm Linda. Sander, why don't you go and find Ruben. We'll talk this over downstairs, okay?"

"Okay," Sander nodded. He walked around the counter and through a doorway with saloon doors you see in western movies. From a distance I heard him shout out Ruben's name.

"I think Annie mentioned you a couple of times," Ruben's mother said as she observed me from behind the counter. "She says he's changed since he met you."

"Changed for the good, I hope," I replied, not quite knowing what she meant.

"Livelier, she says," the woman explained briefly. "She might be right. He's a bit more talkative than before. I often had the idea something was bugging him when he came over to play with our Ruben."

"That must have been his situation at the football club," I guessed. "His coach treated him unfairly, but he didn't have the heart to tell his grandmother about it, until I saw it with my own eyes."

"Yes, she told me about that," Linda nodded. "She says you have a way of understanding him."

"Must be a man thing," I joked, not really wanting to carry on with the conversation.

"That must be it," the woman smiled, picking up on the joke.

I was pretty sure she'd have continued chattering away, probably a treat innate for a woman meeting all those people in her bakery store, but the sound of two high pitched giggles from behind the saloon doors announced the arrival of Sander and his buddy. Ruben came into the store first, walking over to where his mother stood, while Sander joined me again. They seemed equally excited and I had a sneaky suspicion it wasn't just about swimming arrangements.

"Did Sander tell you what he and Robert have planned?" Linda asked her son.

"Yeah," Ruben nodded. "Can I go? Please?"

"Have you done your homework for the weekend?" the woman wanted to know.

"Uhuh, yep, we did it at Sander's place yesterday," her son said.

"Then I suppose you can go," Linda said. She turned to Sander and me and said: "We have dinner at 6.30. If you promise to have him home by then, it's okay for you to take him swimming."

"That won't be a problem," I said. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. Mind you, he can be a handful," Linda warned me.

I laid my hand on Sander's head and smiled: "I've managed to tame this one, I'm pretty sure I can handle another."

"Hey, you didn't tame me!" Sander rebuked, turning to me, trying hard to look offended.

I winked at Sander and ruffled his hair. I heard Ruben giggle from behind the corner, amused to see his best buddy being teased like that. I had a feeling the baker's son would like a bit of the same treatment during our swimming spree. "We'll pick you up around two o'clock, Ruben," I said. "Don't forget to pack your trunks."

"Hehe, I won't," Ruben answered.

"Well, then, we'd better get home and have some lunch. Right, Sander?" I announced.

"Okay, yep," Sander nodded.

"See you in a couple of hours, Ruben. Mrs. Seghers." I said as I backed off towards the door, my little friend in tow.

"Please, call me Linda," the woman answered. "See you later, Sander."

"Bye, Mrs. Seghers," Sander replied as he exited the store, waving at Ruben and his mother.

Joyfully Sander hopped towards the car, clearly exited about having his best buddy join us later on. We got in the car and drove of. I briefly glanced over at Sander, who's smile went ear to ear. I slapped his thigh a couple of times, showing him I was happy for him. The rest of the trip, the last mile of it, we barely spoke, but didn't need to. Back home, Sander carried the photo albums inside while I took care of the picture frames. We put everything in the living room. Lunch time had drawn near so I offered to nuke a couple of pizzas I had in the freezer. Sander, not being difficult when it comes to his meals, agreed to pizza and walked over to the lounge where he switched on the tv, trying to find a cartoon to watch over lunch.

Ten minutes later I sliced up our pizzas and brought them over to the lounge. So much for etiquette. I put the food in front of us on the coffee table and sat down beside my little friend. When Sander picked up the first slice of pizza, he noticed some grease dripping off the tip. He looked at me a bit uneasy, probably worrying about making a mess of the couch or his clothes. I had hung a towel in front of me to prevent drips of grease soiling my clothes, but for Sander I had a different option in mind, one he would not hesitate to take.

"Remember what you did to prevent paint from getting on your clothes," I said, wanting him to come up with the solution himself.

Sander nodded, thinking over what I'd just said. Bright as he is, a devilish grin appeared on his face when he understood what I meant. He put the slice of pizza back on the plate. He got up and walked over to the living room table. There, he quickly slipped his shirt over his head and as he hung it over the back of a chair, he undid the button of his jeans, unzipped it and pulled jeans and underwear down in one go, leaving everything behind when he returned and planted his now bare buns in the couch. To prove that the trick worked wonders, he grabbed the slice of pizza, leaned back and took a big bite, allowing some of the tomato sauce to drip down on his bare chest.

"Little piggy," I said as I watched Sander chew down his pizza. I patted his inner thigh a couple of times and then dove into my own lunch.

Okay, you might think it had been a cheap trick to get Sander out of his clothes by using those tactics. It was, in a way, but not because I so desperately wanted to see him naked again. I would never actually go and ask Sander to strip. It had to always be his decision whether or not he felt like going bare. But after the chat we'd had last night where he'd seemed a bit worried about taking too many liberties, I felt that this was the ideal moment to show him that he could drop his clothes whenever he wanted to.

During his overnight visits, and most of all during the Sunday mornings, it had become pretty obvious that there wouldn't be too many moments where he'd prefer to remain dressed. And because I knew how much he enjoyed being naked, I thought it wouldn't hurt to invite him to take everything off when he wasn't really thinking about it. The fact that it hand taken him less than a minute to shed his clothes was more than enough proof that it was exactly what he wanted. As I watched him devour his pizza, his bare chest smudged with tomato sauce and grease and his eyes glued to the tv screen, I knew that this was Sander's true nature: a boy with a free spirit.

After lunch I decided to skip doing dishes to enjoy a tender moment with my Little Prince. His pizza had barely lasted five minutes, my towel had served to wipe the mess of his chest and belly and his head now rested against my shoulder with my arm wrapped around him. There was a marathon of some Dutch tv series on tv which would end shortly before we had to pick up Ruben which Sander liked. It was during the commercials between two episodes when Sander raised his head and looked at me. That look, which I easily recognised, meant that he had something on his mind.

"A penny for your thoughts?" I said, inviting him to speak freely.

Sander smiled at me, probably a bit surprised at how well I had grown to know him. He briefly glanced down between his legs, where his dicky was slowly rising again, and blushed a bit when our eyes met. That gesture alone was enough for me to know this would be another man to man thing.

"Remember I told you Ruben once asked if he could see my dinky?" he asked.

"Sure, I remember," I nodded. How could I forget. It's not everyday I hear a boy talk about something like that, ey.

"Well, errrm…" Sander stammered a bit, clearly not certain about how to carry on. He swallowed deep and said: "He kinda wanted to see it again yesterday, after we did our homework."

"Oh? Hadn't seen enough, had he," I said, smiling at him.

"He said it's because we didn't have much time the other day," my little friend explained, giggling cutely.

"I see," I nodded, wondering where this was going. "And was there enough time, yesterday?"

"Not really," Sander said, shaking his head. I could tell he was slightly disappointed. "We were up in my room and we only pulled our pants down for a bit, but granny was home and I didn't dare do it for too long."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be a good thing if your grandmother catches you with your pants down," I said, picturing Sander and Ruben standing in front of each other with their jeans by their ankles.

Sander blushed a deep red, probably thinking about how it would be to have Annie walk in on him and his buddy on a moment like that. He sighed deeply and said: "It's kinda fun to show my thingy to Ruben and to see his, but we never really dare to do it."

It probably took a lot of courage for Sander to admit that he liked playing the show-me-yours-I'll-show-you-mine game with Ruben. I actually felt honoured that he would admit that to me and in between the lines I pretty much understood where this was going. "Well, it's perfectly normal for boys your age to do stuff like that, and usually when they do, they indeed have fun doing it," I told him. "I can understand that you'd like to have a bit more time to do it, no?"

"Yeah," Sander nodded with a sigh, relieved that he wouldn't have to explain his motives word for word.

Maybe this is what his grandmother meant about me having a way to understand him. I knew she would not approve, but I also knew that this was a cry for help from me. It was probably not the best idea, either, but I decided to offer Sander the solution for his little problem and allow him to explore the forbidden secrets of his sexuality. Because that's what this was all about: two boys, a few months shy of ten years old (in Sander's case, because I didn't know Ruben's exact age), curious about those parts of their bodies that makes them boys. Who was I to deny them the right to do so?

"Well, you do have your own room upstairs," I told him. "That room is for you to do whatever you feel, right?"

"Yeah," Sander nodded again, looking at me curiously, wondering what I came up with.

"How about I stretch that to allowing you to invite friends over?" I suggested. "I don't mean you can have the whole of your football team up there, but I wouldn't oppose to you having a friend up there to play with."

"You mean, Ruben can come up to my room with me?" Sander asked, wanting to be he understood what I'd just told him.

"Sure, why not?" I shrugged. "Ruben is your best friend, isn't he. I bet he'd love to see what a good job you did decorating that room."

"Cool," Sander beamed happily.

"And, when you do have Ruben up there with you, you're free to do whatever you want," I carried on.

Of course Sander was quick to realise that being allowed to invite his friend upstairs opened up some possibilities. Like any other energy packed boy, the excitement about those possibilities got the better of him. "This afternoon, too?" he asked.

I chuckled at his eager little mind and pinched his thigh softly. "I don't mind if we come back here after swimming," I told Sander. "We've got all afternoon to do what we like, so if you want to invite Ruben here afterwards, it's okay with me. But we are going to the pool, first, if only to get your stuff wet and to make sure you don't hide up in your room all afternoon."

"Okay," Sander smiled happily. His happy smile then turned in a mischievous grin when a naughty idea filled his mind. "Maybe I can get Ruben to come downstairs with me," he snickered, already imagining everything lively. He turned around, wiggled his little butt at me and said, giggling: "Then you can play bongo drums on both our butts."

I laughed at his silly act, and although the thought of having two bare butts to my disposal was an interesting thought, I had to hold Sander's reigns on this one. "I bet you'd pull it off, too," I said, reaching out to caress his exposed buns. "But I don't think playing bongo drums on his butt is a good idea. Doing that is just a way for me to show you how much I love having you with me and how happy it makes me to see you being so comfortable with me. I would never do anything like that with another boy."

Sander turned around and sat back down, looking at me a bit confused. I reached out both my arms and pulled him onto my lap, hugging him closely. "You don't like Ruben, then?" he asked as he rested his head against my chest.

"Ruben seems like a nice kid and I'm pretty sure I'll grow to like him as a friend," I told Sander, caressing his shoulder. "But you are my Little Prince and all my cuddling, caressing, bongo drum playing, is reserved just for you."

My little friend looked me right in the eye and I could clearly detect the admiration in his eyes. With an ear to ear smile he climbed off my lap, only to manoeuvre himself back on it, straddling me so he could fold his arms around my neck in a warm embrace. He planted his lips onto mine and kissed me, letting his lips linger for a while before laying his head in the crook of my neck and hugging me closely. My hands were by his hips the whole time. Once he clung to me like a baby koala bear on it's mother, I moved my hands to envelope his butt cheeks, kneading them gently like cookie dough.

This gesture, which would be frowned upon by the greater part of society, evoked the habitual giggles and humming from Sander, whom I knew enjoyed the naughty nature of my actions. Trusting me blindly not to take further, more aggressive actions, allowed for Sander recognise how special our relationship had become.

With Ruben's interest in my Little Prince's physical appearance, I knew it wouldn't be long before questions about the essence of life would arise within my little boy's mind. Questions about his burgeoning sexuality that I would try and answer as positively as possible, in order to let Sander feel good about his discoveries. As I sat there on the couch, I knew that with the plans for that afternoon, the boy sitting on my lap would soon be introduced to an entirely different form of entertainment.

---------

The afternoon at the swimming pool was fun packed. It had been a good idea to invite Ruben to join us, because I often needed brief time outs during our roughhousing. I already knew how energetic Sander was and his buddy wasn't any different.

Most of the time we spent in the shallow end, where we toyed with some stuffed ball where both boys had to fight me to get their hands on it. This meant a lot of physical contact and I was happy that I'd opted to wear speedos underneath my swim shorts, because the feeling of their slippery bodies against mine worked quite… inspiring, to say the least. I was actually quite amazed at how quickly Ruben was at easy with me, but I suppose Sander had told him enough about me for him to at least like me enough to play with.

We also went down the tube slide like a hundred times, either separately or with all three of us together. The dive board was the boys' terrain, because I'm simply not lean enough to pull of the stunts they performed for me. They were equally happy to show off their skills for me and competed with each other for my attention, trying to best each other with various versions of daredevil somersaults. And although Ruben seemed to be a bit more agile when it came to diving, I still rooted for Sander, of course without Ruben noticing.

I did take my chance to take in Ruben's features a bit more closely. Clad in just a pair of blue and black speedos (Sander's were red and yellow), he had the typical body of a nine-year old. He was slightly taller than my Little Prince but equally slim. During our ride to the pool, Ruben had told me he did gym competitively, the rings being his favourite discipline. That required more muscular strength than Sander's football and it showed in his arms and abdomen. Luckily it didn't show too much, because I find it a bit of putting when a boy this young has too much muscular definition. The blue and black speedos revealed the shape of a cute, firm little butt that Sander had offered to me as bongo drums only an hour ago. In the front, the bulge holding his jewellery didn't appear to be any larger than Sander's.

I know I'm biassed because Sander had become my special little guy and well, because I'd seen all of him, but even if that hadn't been the case, I'd still chosen him over Ruben. Sander's appearance was softer, in a way, more delicate, more natural, while the more developed muscles of gymast Ruben gave the boy a more robust quality. It's difficult to say for sure, but if the tables had been turned and Ruben had been the one crashing into me, I don't know if I had felt the same attraction to him as I did for Sander.

It wasn't just the physical differences where Sander scored better. Ruben was more competitive in everything and a bit too much of a show off. During our game with the ball, Ruben would fight a bit harder to get a hold of the ball, while Sander simply enjoyed the game. Even the rides down the slide had to hold some sort of competition to it for Ruben. That's okay with me, but it can be a bit tiring and I was a bit relieved to have a boy like Sander to whom everything was about fun, not about winning or being the best.

That and other differences put aside, it was obvious that Sander and Ruben were as thick as blood. I was more than happy for my little buddy to have such a friend as Ruben, who had stirred something inside Sander's mind by showing a more than healthy interest in the part of his body that made him a boy. I knew it was a phase pretty much every boy goes through at some point in life and I had made it my mission to give Sander the necessary time and space to discover the possibilities of his young body, with the help of a close friend.

We had been in and around the water for about an hour and a half before Sander swam towards me, with Ruben climbing the stairs to the diving board. I clearly saw that he wanted to ask me something and in his hesitation I knew he was ready to head home to play a different type of games with his mate. I winked at him, his silent request understood, and then called out to Ruben that this was to be his last somersault of the board.

At that moment I didn't know if Sander had let Ruben in on his plans. I wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea or not, but I decided to discuss tactics with my little friend. When we reached the locker room area, I sent Ruben ahead to get changed while I pulled Sander aside for a little chat.

"Does Ruben know we're going to my place, now?" I asked.

"Uhuh, yeah," Sander nodded. "I told him I wanted to show him my room."

"Okay," I said. "Do you still want to show him something else, too?"

Sander blushed a deep red, knowing exactly what I meant. He nodded, a bit more shyly than usual. "It's okay, isn't it?" he wanted to make sure.

I ran my hand through his wet hair and nodded. "Did you tell him you wanted to do that?" I asked next.

"No," my little friend said shaking his head. "I thought he might not want to come if I told him."

"Maybe not, but he kinda started it, so I don't think he would have said no," I said. "Just make sure he doesn't know I know about your naughty plans."

"Hehe, okay," Sander giggled cutely.

"Also, try to let him ask you first," I then suggested. "That way he won't get the feeling you planned it all ahead."

Sander pondered over that idea for a bit and then nodded, agreeing to the suggestion. He knew Ruben well enough to expect him to pop the question, especially after what had occurred previously. Our little chat completed, we found ourselves an empty stall to get changed and then headed out, Ruben and Sander chit-chatting to each other as I followed them to the parking lot.

We arrived home about fifteen minutes later. During our ride, Sander had invited Ruben to come check out his room at my place. Ruben had made no objections, as long as we got him home in time. His mother hates tardiness, he warned me. I told him not to worry and that he'd be home right on schedule, mostly to ensure future outings with Sander and I.

At home, I offered to hang up their wet gear to dry. I told Sander to poor themselves a drink and to fetch some snacks. Sander served Ruben and himself a glass of ice tea and poured the contents of a bag of m&m's into a bowl. He then told Ruben to follow him upstairs. Out of Ruben's sight, he winked at me when he lead the way out of the living room, telling me he was dead set on carrying out his devilish schemes. I simply grinned back at him. When the boys exited the room and stormed up the stairs, the image of Sander and Ruben naked on Sander's bed formed in my mind… How many times before I met Sander didn't I fantasise about something like that?

Between our coming home from the pool and Ruben's curfew, the boys had about an hour to enjoy themselves upstairs in Sander's private domain before I had to drive Ruben home. During the better half of that hour, while I watched a recorded episode of Game of Thrones, I barely heard or saw the boys. For a die hard boylover like me, it was barely impossible to focus on the tv screen, knowing that there were two 9-year-old boys upstairs, probably in a compromising situation. Part of me wanted to sneak up the stairs and peak through the key hole to see what they were up to. I remained strong, though, not wanting either boy to discover that they were being observed.

Sander and Ruben came back downstairs about ten minutes before it was time to drive Ruben safely home. They were giggling when they entered the room and looked extra cheerful. I had no way of knowing what had perspired up in Sander's room, but it was obvious that they'd had loads of fun. They had brought their empty ice tea glasses back with them and left them on the kitchen sink.

Because it was so close to Ruben's departure, I told the boy to get his swim gear from the rack where I'd hung it up to dry. We spent the reminder of our afternoon on the couch, chatting about this and that, mostly about where we could go next and when. Ruben praised Sander for his job on the bedroom upstairs (with a hint of envy I detected in his voice) and thanked me for taking him to the pool today.

The three of us arrived at the bakery of Ruben's parents shortly before his curfew. Linda, his mother, was pleased to see I had kept my word to bring her son home in time. His father, who was also in the store, helping Linda to clean up for the day, just smiled and shook hands with me. He ordered Ruben to go inside, telling him it was his turn to set the table for dinner. Ruben obeyed, said goodbye to Sander and I and disappeared through the doorway that lead to the Seghers' private domain.

Sander and I then announced our departure, as well. Will, Ruben's father, packed some of the unsold bread rolls in a bag for us to thank us for taking care of his son. Grateful for the free dinner, I told him that Ruben was welcome to join us any time he wanted. We then walked out of the bakery store and drove back home.

Dinner went by uneventful. We had the bread rolls Will had offered us with some hot chocolate and then retreated to the couch where I let Sander zap away through the tv channels, hoping to find something interesting to watch. While I sat on the sofa with Sander next to me, I was wondering when and if he would tell me anything about his time upstairs with Ruben. It was only when I reached out to caress his back, which felt unfamiliar with Sander's sweater still covering his bare skin, that Sander turned to me with a big happy smile. Whether the smile had something to do with how he felt about our afternoon together or simply because he appreciated the touch, I couldn't tell, but him looking so happy was all that mattered to me.

Sander went up and down the channels but couldn't find anything that caught his interest. He put the tv on standby and casually threw it next to him on the couch. He shuffled his little butt backward and snuggled up close to me. He hummed contentedly when I wrapped my arm around him to pull him a bit closer. Clearly my Little Prince was in the mood for a bit of cuddling and I couldn't think of any better way to chill after a fun packed afternoon.

We sat together like that, in silence, not even bothering to turn on the lights when the room grew dark. It was as if time stood still for a while, until Sander got up, telling me he had to go to the bathroom real bad. In the last bits of daylight, he meandered between the furniture and out of the room. I got up, turned on the little lamp shade that stood by the tv, making sure Sander could make his trip back safely. I was still standing by the lamp when he returned.

"Want to play a game or so?" I asked him while he flopped back down on the couch.

"Don't you want to know what happened this afternoon?" he returned the question.

I smiled at him and shrugged. "Only if you feel like telling me," I said. "What you do in your room is private and if you'd prefer to keep it between Ruben and yourself, it's fine with me."

Sander briefly looked down, overthinking his options and then met my eyes again. "I kinda feel like telling you and talk about it. And you're the only one I can talk with, about this stuff."

I joined him on the couch and reached out to brush a strand of his hair away from his brow. Even in the dim light I could see he was blushing, probably feeling a little embarrassed about what he wanted to discuss with me. "I'm here for you, my Little Prince. Whatever you want to share with me, I'm all ears."

"Cool," Sander replied with a smile. He sat back, close to me, but then decided to lie down instead, using my leg as a pillow, his legs stretched out, taking possession of the entire couch.

"So, what mischief were you two up to, this afternoon?" I asked as I combed his hair back with my hand.

Sander giggled cutely and said: "We showed each other our dicks, again. And it was Ruben who asked if we could, too."

"Dicks, huh," I asked, surprised by his choice of words. I suppose Ruben was responsible for that, too.

"Yeah, Ruben says 'willy or dinky' is for little kids," Sander explained his vocabulary. "Big boys say 'dick'."

"I like willy or dinky better," I told him. "But you are becoming a big boy, so I suppose it's okay for you to use big boy words if you want to."

"How come you don't like me calling my thing 'dick'?" Sander asked, sounding a bit disappointed that I frowned upon him using big words.

"It sounds a bit coarse," I explained. "It doesn't really suit you to use such fowl language. Besides, I like what that part of you looks like. It deserves more than such a crude name."

Sander let my explanation sink in and after a little while he smiled up at me. "I'll only say 'dick' when I'm with Ruben, then," he promised.

"Cool," I simple said. "But I interrupted you. Please carry on. Who asked this time to show each other your dicks?" I winked upon uttering that last word, just to let Sander know it was okay for him to use the term. After all, the topic in itself didn't really ask for clean words.

Sander giggled, reading the message I sent with my winking and then carried on with his story. "Ruben did. I told him I got to spend the night and he wanted to know why I didn't have any pyjamas in my room, so I told him I always sleep with nothing on."

I left the question whether it was a good idea for Sander to tell Ruben about his sleeping habits in the middle. The only real risk was for Ruben to follow Sander's example, because he probably didn't want to go and tell his parents about it. "And I suppose he wanted to see you prove it?"

Sander nodded, blushing a bit. "Ruben said he only does that when it's really hot. We were both sitting on the bed and then he asked if he could see my penis again."

"I bet you said 'Yes' to that, huh," I guessed.

"Nope," Sander answered, shaking his head. And before I could ask why he had rejected Ruben's request, my little buddy moved around on the couch next to me, sat up his knees and started undoing his jeans. "I just did this," he giggled devilishly as he swiftly pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, revealing his jewellery to me. He held up his shirt to make sure I had a clear view on his privates, his penis at full mast, wagging in front of me like a dog's tail.

Even though I had become quite accustomed to seeing Sander undressed, his unbound desire to show himself to me still surprised me, time after time. Pleasantly, might I add, because I could never get enough of seeing my Little Prince's naked body. His erection, which he proudly showed me, was always a bit of a test to see if my resolve to avoid any form of sexual contact between us (apart from rubbing his perky little butt, which by law constitutes as a sexual act, if I'm right) would hold. This time, though, I could tell a slight difference in his demeanour and I was quite sure that his private time with Ruben had something to do with it. Besides the naughty, unashamed little boy I'd grown to love so much, it was obvious I now had to deal with a playful boy. I wonder if he knew what the word 'horny' meant…

Anyway, Sander knew he now had my full attention, although my focus was temporarily a bit further down south. Apparently, Sander's idea of telling about what had occurred upstairs only a few hours prior to our little chat was to make it a show-and-tell act. And I already knew quite well that every excuse was good enough for my little buddy to strip off his clothes. Up till this point, I had no idea how much show-and-tell Sander had in mind, so I didn't see any harm in it. Yet…

I chuckled at his little soliloquy and shook my head in disbelief. He giggled cutely and even in the dim light I could see his cheeks red as cherries. Receiving no real reaction from me, he simply slid his pants all the way down his legs and over his feet, leaving the bottom half of his immaculate little body on display. He sat back down, seemingly proud of his achievement and carried on with his story.

"Ruben's eyes almost popped out when he saw me pull my pants down," he said. "He asked me if I wasn't afraid you would come up and catch me like that."

"What did you tell him?" I wanted to know, mostly to see how much information he'd given Ruben about my open mindedness.

"I told him you never come up here," Sander answered. "And that you wouldn't really mind seeing me with my pants down."

That second part of his answer worried me a bit. "Didn't he ask you why I wouldn't mind?"

The brief moments of hesitation were enough for me to know Sander had spilled some of the beans. "I kinda told him you let me be naked sometimes. I did tell him to keep it between us, and he said he would."

"And you're sure he'll keep his word? You took a bit of a risk telling him that," I told the boy. "I really don't want people to find out. Not everyone would understand why I allow a kid like you to be naked at my place. Including your grandmother."

Sander now looked a bit guilty at me as he realised he had unwillingly made a mistake by confiding in Ruben this afternoon. "He really won't tell anyone," my little friend promised me firmly, his mood gone from cheerful to sad in a short time. "Are you mad at me?"

I quickly wrapped an arm around me and held him close to me to comfort him and reassure him. "No, I'm not mad at you," I shushed him. "I can never be mad at you, you know that. Just be careful with what you tell your friends."

"Okay," the boy simply nodded. "Ruben really won't tell anyone," he then repeated himself and then picked up his story where I interrupted it. "He kinda told me he likes being naked, too, but he never dares to do it at home. I then said that if he wanted to, we could both take all our clothes off."

Happy in the knowledge our little issue about secrecy hadn't dampened his desire to tell me about his adventures with his little friend, I smiled at him and asked: "Did he like that idea, then?"

"He really wanted to do it," Sander nodded. "But he didn't really dare to take his clothes off, because he was afraid you'd catch us."

"And? Did you get him to do it?" I wanted to know, wondering how Sander had convinced Ruben to strip bare.

"Not really," he answered, shaking his head. "I told him over and over not to worry, but he kept saying no. So I told him I would take my clothes off first to show him it was okay."

"Did he agree to that, then?" I queried further.

"Yeah," Sander nodded. "My pants were almost off anyway, then, so it wasn't such a big deal. So, I got up and took everything off and then I told him to take his clothes off too while I closed my eyes and counted to ten."

While he told me of his scheme to get Ruben out of his pants, Sander was constantly toying with the hem of his shirt, clearly waiting for the right moment to get fully naked himself. Wanting to show him that I was paying very close attention to his show-and-tell performance, I did something I had never done until then. I reached out, grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it up. Sander giggled playfully when he understood my intentions and liberally putt his hands up high, allowing me take his shirt off completely. I flung the garment over my shoulder and winked at him.

"There," I said triumphantly. "You can't talk about being naked without being naked, ey."

"Hehe, nope," Sander grinned naughtily.

I reached out and gave his thigh a few playful slaps. "So… What did Ruben do while counted to ten?"

"Well, I counted extra slow, so he had enough time to take his clothes off," Sander explained. "I peaked through my fingers so I could see if he did it."

"And…"

"He did it!" my Little Prince exclaimed victoriously, proud to have persuaded his best buddy to follow suit.

"Cool!" I said, sharing in his joy. "And what did you do next, when you saw Ruben was naked just like you."

"Well, we wrestle each other a lot when we're at his place, so I kinda tackled him on the bed and we started wrestling," Sander told me very lively. "It was really fun with no clothes on."

"I bet," I smiled at my little friend, who had clearly had a great time in his room. "Did he enjoy it too?"

"Uhuh, yeah," the boy nodded. He then shuffled closer and brought his lips to my ears, as if he was afraid someone besides might pick up what he had to say next. "He had a stiffie!" he whispered, giggled cutely in my ear.

"He did, huh?" I asked, ruffling his hair. Following his lead, I moved just as close, asking in a hushed voice: "What about you?"

The blush on his cheeks told me he knew exactly what I wanted to know. He simply nodded and then giggled again when he told me: "Ruben tried to grab my stiffie when we were wrestling."

I chuckled, imagining the two boys frolicking around on the bed. Although shy at first, Ruben clearly was the adventurous one. "Did he succeed?"

Sander nodded again and said: "It felt funny at first, but kinda nice, too. I then tried grabbing his, too. I never touched another boy's stiffie before. Is it bad if you want to do that?"

"Not if the other boy's okay with it and clearly Ruben was," I reassured him.

The boy smiled at me, happy with my answer and then carried on with his tale. "We wrestled like that for a while. Then he asked me if I ever play with my dick… errr… willy."

I winked at him, silently forgiving him his little slip of the tongue and said: "Ruben was getting really curious, huh. What did you tell him?"

"I told him I did, sometimes," Sander said. "He said he played with his willy too and then he asked if it was okay if he played with mine."

"You probably hadn't expected that, when you invited him over," I said, feigning surprise.

"No," Sander answered, shaking his head. "But I kinda wanted to know how it felt when he asked so I said he could. Is that okay?"

I nodded and said: "You're at an age when you're curious about all sorts of things, including stuff like that. If you're okay with Ruben touching you like that, then there's nothing wrong about it. How did it feel when Ruben started playing with your stiffie?"

Sander grinned broadly, obviously remembering the feelings and declared: "It felt a bit weird in the beginning, but then it started to feel really good. I never play with my stiffie the way he did."

"Oh? And how did he do it, then?" I asked, wondering what technique Sander had been introduced to.

Finding that showing me would work a lot better, he leaned back against the couch and spread his legs, giving me a front row on his boy parts. He reached between his legs and starting toying with his erection, which seemed harder than I'd ever seen it.

"Well, I only really do this," he said as he fiddled with his dickie, the way I'd caught him doing it this morning. "It feels good, but Ruben's way is much better. He did it like this."

He moved his hand a bit and held his hand between his thumb and the first two of his fingers. He then commenced the most common act of masturbation by moving his fingers up and down slowly, his foreskin following his hand's motion, revealing the little red head of his penis to me for the first time. He only did it for a couple of times, probably because he wasn't sure if I would be okay with him taking it all the way, a result of my advice for privacy earlier today.

I can tell you, seeing Sander perform right next to me like that didn't make it easier to refrain from reaching out and helping him out. Unlike before, his little stiffie now looked very, very appealing. Another part of was still having a hard time believing that such a young, attractive boy would ever trust me so much that he even showed me what had happened in the privacy of his bedroom.

When he ended his demonstration, probably planning to finish his business at bed time. That is, if Ruben had also showed him how to finish. He blushed a deep red and looked up at me. I didn't quite know what to say. My silence however, proved encouraging enough for him to continue his story.

"After a while, it started to feel really great," he said. "Because it felt so good, I did the same for him. He said he liked it, too."

Clearly Sander was happy he had been able to return the good feelings his body was experiencing to his little friend. He told the whole story so lively I could picture it frame by frame in my mind. And he wasn't even at the end of his tale… "Did he tell you it felt good to him, too?"

"Hehe, no, but I could tell by how he was grunting when I played with him," my little buddy told me and then admitted: "I do that too when I touch myself down there and it feels nice."

Hmmm… I hadn't picked up on Sander's moaning yet. Maybe one of these days I'd get to hear that sound escaping his throat when I catch him playing with himself again. It must be a wonderful sound. "That must have been funny to hear another boy moan like that."

"Uhuh, yeah, a bit," Sander giggled. "After a while Ruben said he wanted to try something he'd read about in a story he'd read on the internet. He stopped pulling on my stiffie and told me to lie back. He got between my legs and then did something really funny."

"What's that?" I wanted to know, although I had a good idea what it was. I also knew I'd have to ask Ruben someday about those stories.

"He licked my dickie!" Sander exclaimed giggling. As if he felt the sensations of Ruben's tongue on his erection again, he groped between his legs and rubbed his dickie a couple of times. "It tickled a lot when he did that, but if felt amazing, too. He then put my stiffie in his mouth and started sucking and licking it."

"Wow!" I copied his excitement. "You probably never expected that when you took Ruben upstairs, huh."

"Hehe, no sirree!" Sander giggled, more and more thrilled with his story. Clearly his private time with Ruben had made a good, lasting impression. "He even licked my balls a couple of times. It felt sooooo good!" he sighed deeply, his hands fiddling with his privates again.

I know I should have moved his hands away from his genitals, but I just couldn't. He was so happy about what had happened with Ruben, earlier. Reprimanding him on what he was doing right now would have dampened his spirit and technically, he wasn't doing anything wrong. Sander was a boy a few weeks shy of 10 years old who had just discovered something essential about life.

My privacy speech earlier had no place in this situation and frankly, I was inclined to make that rule more of a suggestion. Sander had never been shy with me and even if it might be more advisable, it felt better to just let Sander enjoy his body whenever and wherever he wanted to. If he wanted privacy, he knew where to find it, but deep inside I knew he wanted to share his experience with me, even if I only played an observing part. Besides, I read in a book once that a child should have the space and opportunity to discover sexuality freely and where people tell him or her that sex is a good thing. I liked that philosophy, and Sander had found that space and opportunity with me and I was more than okay with allowing him to enjoy sex in his own boyish way.

"Did Ruben like doing that to you?" I asked as I stole a glance at what Sander was doing with his boy parts.

Sander saw my eyes going down and some hesitation crept over him when he realised he was playing with himself with me sitting right next to him. Hearing no complaint from me, he quickly looked back up at me. He held his hands still for a bit, but the temptation was too big to stop doing what he was doing. "He said it was fun," he answered after a brief moment of silence. "I wanted to try it too, but he said I could do it next time, because he wanted to show me something really cool."

"I guess you can't wait till next time, huh," I winked at him. "We're gonna have to invite Ruben more often, I think."

"Hehe, yeah, that'd be cool," Sander readily agreed. "It felt so good when he sucked on my penis. He moved his head up and down real fast after a while."

Between his legs, Sander was now manipulating his erection with the goal to achieve the feelings he'd experienced upstairs with Ruben. I think it was his way to share his experience with me. As he continued telling me about how Ruben had introduced him to oral stimulation, a grunt or a moan occasionally escaped his lips as the powerful sensations soared through his young body. I felt like a Peeping Tom spying on my little boy, who had silently given me permission to watch him as he performed the act of pleasuring himself.

"It must have been really amazing," I said, smiling at him.

"Uhuh… It… was… ugh… super… ugh…" Sander grunted, recognising the same feeling going through young body, slowly making it impossible for him to finish the story.

I then leaned into him and whispered into his ears: "Show me, my Little Prince. Let me see how wonderful it felt."

Set free to enjoy his awakened sexuality, Sander leaned back against the couch and practically sunk into the cushion beneath him. His legs were spread wide, with his right leg draped over my lap, giving his hands full access to his privates. Holding his erection between two fingers and thumb, he moved his right hand up and down, in a frantic pace that told me he was already on the verge of reaching that point every male human being seeks when doing what Sander was doing right beside me.

During the next few minutes, I was a witness to something I had never thought I'd see with my own eyes. Something I can only describe as beautiful. As Sander was moving his hand up and down his fleshy spike, I saw his body twitch and tremble under the tingling sensations coursing trough his hot and slightly sweaty body like electricity. He sand deeper and deeper into the couch and had his attention solely on achieving his goal, barely aware of my hungry eyes. The grunting, moaning, hissing sounds he made were almost inhuman. His chest went up and down rapidly with his laboured breathing.

Then it happened. After bouncing his little fist up and down his little balls in a frenzied rhythm, his fist clenching his erection in a tight grip, all the muscles in his young body tensed as if a jolt of lighting went through him. His legs stretched out in front of him, his toes curled outward and his back bent like a bridge over a water. Eyes that had been focussed on his actions were now shut tight, straining against the powerful energy surging through his body.

Before my eyes, Sander came with a load deep moan and his body tightened like a guitar string being toggled. His dry but immensely strong orgasm went through his entire being and sapped all remaining energy out of his young body. Looking flushed from the intense sensations that were still new to my nine-year-old neighbour boy, Sander melted into the couch and sighed deeply.

I knew that what I had just witnessed was something unique. The fact that Sander had so freely shared his experience with me by allowing me to sit in on his performance meant the world to me. I'll admit, it had been hard not to reach out and touch him during his search for pleasure, but it would have ruined everything. I also understood it meant a lot to Sander to be able to do this for me. This was my Little Prince showing me he was becoming a big boy.

As he was lying next to me, regaining his posture, I knew he wanted me to say or do something to show my appreciation for what he did. Being dumbstruck from what I'd just seen, I did what I thought was the best way to show how proud I was of him and how much I loved him. I wrapped my arms around him, lifted his practically limp body into my lap and held him close to me, rubbing his bare backside in a loving manner.

Sander folded his little arms around me and clung to me for dear life. He immediately understood the message I wanted to convey by holding him closely. To show me he understood, he briefly lifted his head and planted his lips right on top of mine and kissed me lovingly. With a loving smile, he laid his head against my shoulder and I think I could hear him sniff a couple of times.

"You okay?" I softly asked, knowing this was a very emotional moment for Sander.

"Yeah," he grunted, nodding slowly. He lifted his head and looked right at me with tearing eyes. I reached for a tear running down his cheek when he smiled at me and asked: "Did I do okay?"

I smiled back at him and held his face in both my hands and nodded. "You were amazing, my Little Prince. Ruben's right: you are a big boy, now."

Sander grinned back at me and giggled cutely, wiping the last tears away with the back of his hand. He then hugged me again and said: "I love you, Uncle Rob."

"I love you too, Sander," I replied in a soft voice.

We sat there together like that for a while, with me slowly running my hands up and down Sander's bare backside, making sure to give his little buns some attention as well. Sander giggled at first when he felt my hands on his little butt, but slowly the effects of his special playtime were taking their toll on him. His body drooped down a bit and his breath became slow and quiet. Bit by bit, Sander surrendered to sleep. Once I was sure he was sound asleep, I carried him upstairs and did something I had never done before: I laid him down in my bed. After an evening like this, the only place I wanted Sander to be was right next to me, all night.

I joined Sander half an hour later, after I went down again to seek my own release. No boylover, or anyone else, can watch a nine-year old boy masturbating and not be turned on by it in any way. I felt a bit guilty for having those feelings and giving in to them, but everything's better than to risk taking things too far with the boy who trusted me blindly. When I sunk under the sheets next to Sander, I knew questions would follow the next morning. Questions about how his body really works and about the things Ruben did to him. Questions I would answer as honestly as possible, making sure that he would go home at lunchtime feeling happy about everything that had happened today.