Pauls Pants

PP/Ewans Story part 8; I like a nice cup of tea in the morning

Here we go, another episode. Grateful thanks to Tapshorts for giving me an idea. Feel free to reproduce this or any other part of the series, whilst recognising that all rights remain the property of the author. Always pleased to get feedback at: spasm2(at)mailandnews(dot)com

Canals can be surprisingly noisy places at night, the slap of the water against a metal hull, roosting birds being disturbed by a passing predator, and even the occasional banshee scream of a fox contribute to a vibrant soundscape unfamiliar to someone who was accustomed to the distant rumble of urban traffic. In fact, though, it was none of the above which caused me to awaken with a start, but rather the insistent high pitched whining of that canal side favourite, the mosquito. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I gradually realised that I wasn't just sharing my cabin with a mosquito, but there was also a naked boy in my sleeping bag.

A boy, furthermore, who was still sound asleep. In the early morning gloom I couldn't immediately see who it was (although I had a pretty good idea), and we'd all used the same soap in the shower, so scent was out as a means of identification. I cautiously slid my hand down inside the sleeping bag, along his skinny ribs, over the hipbone and onto his concave stomach. As I continued my exploration of his sleeping body, my fingertips encountered the soft tufts of pubic hair that confirmed to me this was in fact Ewan. A little more exploration and I was able to determine that this was definitely a boy; I softly stroked his warm cock and cupped his soft balls. The sleeping figure gave a soft sigh and wriggled his bottom against my crotch, I wrapped him in my arms, the whining insect forgotten and settled back to sleep.

I had the strangest erotic dreams; where Ewan and I made love in a variety of unusual situations, most of them in public spaces, and presided over by the grinning naked figure of Paul, masturbating furiously over our entwined bodies. In one particular dream, we were sailing along in bright sunshine, and Ewan was sucking me off on the roof of the boat as we passed under a bridge. A bridge lined with cheering and applauding people, our exertions partially illuminated by camera flashes. Paul was standing naked at the tiller, holding his cock with his free hand and raucously shouting encouragement. It was at this moment that my rational brain decided that I had had enough, and I struggled into wakefulness. One part of my dream had a base in reality; it was daylight and I woke to find myself lying on my back, with Ewan kneeling by the bedside slowly and deliberately gobbling my cock.

'You were right, you know,' I said to him.

'Hmm?' he answered, without stopping.

'This is the best way to wake up in the morning.'

'Mmm,' he applied in the affirmative.

As I lay there, trying very hard to stop myself from immediately filling his mouth with my spunk, I heard the distant sound of a boat engine. Much more rapidly than I would have expected (the canal system has a four mile per hour speed limit), the other boat roared past, leaving us bobbing violently on our moorings. This had a couple of consequences, firstly, Ewan fell over backwards as the boat dipped and swayed, secondly, our carelessly stacked crockery from the night before fell into the sink with a mighty crash.

A moment later, there came a roar from the back of the boat, 'Oi, whichever one of you it is, stop wanking, you're breaking the pots.'

'Oh bugger,' I said regretfully, 'now he's awake we'll probably not get to finish this.'

'Bum,' Ewan said succinctly, hauling himself up off the floor, his naked body glowing golden in the early morning sunshine, and made all the more desirable to me by the vision of his rock hard dick swinging gently at my eye level.

'Oh well,' I sighed, 'there's always later.' I sat up on the edge of the bed, my legs apart and put my arms round his slender waist, pulling him towards me in a tender hug. I kissed him firmly on the lips and looking into his hazel eyes, I said; 'I just want you to know that I love you, and whatever we do today isn't going to change that. Any time you feel uncomfortable, just say so, no-one does anything they don't want to when I'm around.'

'I know,' he answered, smiling at me, and twisted round to sit on my naked thigh. 'You've never asked me to do anything I didn't want to; I wouldn't be sitting here if it didn't turn me on and I didn't feel safe with you.'

I kissed him again, and at the same time I took hold of his hot and rigid cock, Ewan reached for mine, and we tenderly wanked each other for a few moments, purely for the pleasure of the feeling, knowing full well that we were unlikely to get to a climax, not now that Paul had awakened. The sound of Paul blundering into the galley, next to my cabin, was a handy hint; Ewan stood up and silently returned to his berth and I climbed back into my sleeping bag. A moment later, Paul stuck his head round the door, 'morning,' he grinned, 'fancy a cup of tea?'

'Yeah, why not,' I answered, 'shall I see if Ewan is up?' I unzipped the sleeping bag, and sat up, Pauls eyes widened when he saw that I was still hard. 'Dunno about Ewan, but I can see that you are up,' he said, advancing into the cabin. I might have been naked, but Paul wasn't far off, he was wearing a new pair of very sheer, semi-transparent white pants, his generous package was clearly visible and the sight of my naked arousal was already causing his cock to rise to the occasion.

'Hmm, those are nice,' I said, 'let me have a feel.' Paul obligingly walked over to me, and I stroked his erecting cock through the fine fabric. 'Wow, they feel really good too,' I added, groping his smooth tight bottom while I was at it, 'when did you buy these?'

'I got them the other day, after you told me I should think more about my underwear.'

'Where on earth from?' I was intrigued; West London wasn't exactly overrun with lingerie shops for men.

'That gents outfitters on the Broadway, the really old fashioned one.' 'Really,' I was surprised and amused, 'I'd have thought that stoutly constructed foundation garments were more their line.'

'Me too,' he said, pressing his hard cock against my willing hand, 'I was waiting at the bus stop, and when I was looking in the window I noticed that they had those little boxes with the posh French pants in, same make as our g- strings.'

'Oh yeah, I wouldn't have thought it of them, but anyway, go on.'

'I'd come by a few quid, so I thought I'd go in, and see if I could get another one, 'cos the one I have turns me on and I think they might help me pull.'

'That was brave of you,' I said, 'what happened next?'

'There was no-one else in the shop, just the old bloke behind the counter, he was a bit taken by surprise when I told him what I wanted, but was happy to show me what he had. I found another g-string that I liked, and I was about to pay up and go when he asked me I wanted to see something else, some stock from a new company that some friends of his had just started up.

'Naturally I said yes, and he showed me these pants; "the thing is," he said, "these are very tailored, and come in a variety of fittings; for all sizes and shapes, from the more compact, to the larger man. Where do you think you might be on this chart?" He showed me a piece of card, and there were so many options I didn't know what to go for, I don't even know my waist size. "I can see you are getting a bit confused," he said, "how about I take your measurements properly?"

'Ok,' I said.

"Right, come through into the fitting room." He showed me into a small back room with two big mirrors on the opposing walls, "you'll need to take off your t shirt and jeans," he said, pulling the tape measure from around his neck. As it happened I was wearing a pair of my scrotty old y-fronts, and when he saw those he raised an eyebrow, "I'd have thought Sir would be more particular about his underwear," he said.

'I am,' I answered, 'I just wasn't expecting to pull, that's all.'

"You should always be ready," he answered, smiling at me, and I realised that he wasn't actually that old. "I'm afraid I can't measure you properly in those, they'll have to come off too." In for a penny in for a pound, I thought, and dropped my pants. I'd forgotten about my shaved pubes until I saw the expression on his face, "I take it all back," he murmured, "You are ready." He quickly took my measurements, noting them down in a small black notebook. "Ok," he said, "hang on there for a moment and I'll go and see what I've got in your size." I stood there, looking at myself in the mirrors, and trying not to get hard until the tailor came back with a tray of boxes, "try these," he said, handing me a pair. I tried on a few different pairs, and he pointed out the various differences in style and fitting of each one. Eventually I settled on these ones, but I was very tempted by some of the others. "You seem very at ease with your body," he commented, as I was dressing, "have you ever done any modelling?"

'What like wiggling about on a catwalk?' I answered, 'not me, that's just for birds and poofs.'

"No, I didn't mean that sort of thing," he answered, "the thing is, the people who make these pants don't have any images of people wearing their underwear and swimwear yet, they've only just started up, and they're looking out for models who aren't too shy, for their catalogue. Have you ever thought of doing any photographic modelling?"

'I might have done,' I answered, not wanting to say too much.

"I thought so, I can see that you are a bit of a swinger" he said, grinning and nodding at my crotch, "I tell you what, have these on the house, and if you decide you like them, pop back into the shop and tell me. Then if you feel up for it, you could maybe model some of their clothes for a few pictures, they've got some money put by for promotion, so it could be worth your while. Only thing is, best not to tell too many people what you're up to, or they'll all want to get in on the act."

'Hang on a minute,' I interrupted Pauls monologue, 'are you telling me that you stripped naked for some bloke?'

'Yeah,' he said, 'what of it? There was nothing sexual about it, it was just so he could measure me thoroughly, it was just like being at the doctors.'

'I suppose so,' I answered dubiously, 'so, do you think you're going to model for him?'

'I don't know, I could use the money, and I do like the idea of being paid to do something that I enjoy anyway.'

I had felt Pauls cock getting harder and harder as he told his story, absently stabbing his stiff length into my open hand. 'Well now,' I said, 'why don't we take a few pictures while we're out here, doesn't have to be anything too horny, and if Ewan sees that you think it's perfectly normal then he'll be that much easier to persuade. Not only that, but you could see if they're the sort of images that your bloke in the shop is looking for, and if they are, we might both be in the money. That was really smart of you.' I added.

'D'you think so?' Paul asked, looking pleased.

'Yeah, I do,' I agreed, 'only thing is, we'd better have these off you, or you'll be getting stains on them and they won't be wanting pictures showing that.' I slipped my fingers under the slender waistband and gently tugged his new pants down. His cock sprang free; it felt strangely different now, fatter and more curved than Ewans, but still thrillingly familiar as I grasped it firmly, his foreskin pulling easily back over his red and shiny glans. 'The other problem, as I see it,' I added, 'is this.' As I spoke, I ran the fingers of my other hand over his crotch, he really was quite stubbly, and the dark growth of his pubic hair was quite obvious.

'How do you mean?' he asked.

'It'll show through the fabric,' I said briefly.

'Oh, that's ok, I was planning to have a proper shave this morning anyway, if you'll help me?'

'Yes of course, but we ought to get a wiggle on if we're going to get anywhere today.'

'Yes of course,' Paul agreed, 'where's that young Ewan, hasn't he got up yet?'

'I think he got up, but I don't know what he's doing now.' As if to answer that question, we heard the sound of feet jumping on board, and Ewan walking along the side of the boat, whistling cheerfully.

'Shit,' Paul swore, 'he mustn't find us like this; you giving me a wank with my pants round my ankles, meet me in the showers in a couple of minutes.'

'Ok, but what if Ewan wants to come too?'

'Just find a way of stopping him,' Paul said, picking his new pants up off the floor and backing naked into the galley, rather like the Cheshire cat, except it was the red tip of his prick that was the last to leave instead of a grin. Just as the double doors to the galley swung closed, the door to Ewans cabin opened slowly, and his cheeky face appeared; 'How about that for timing?' he said.

'Perfect,' I replied, 'did you hear any of that?'

'No, I thought I'd leave you two together and go and have a quick shower, I want to look my best for the pics after all. Why, what was Paul saying?' As he spoke, he advanced into my cabin; he was dressed only in his white nylon shorts, which contrasted brilliantly with the honey colour of his skin.

'There might be a bit of a change of plan,' I quickly told Ewan the story.

His eyes widened and he began to laugh; 'so Paul still thinks he is completely straight, eh, I think you may have turned him.'

'Yeah, I know,' I grinned, 'but I do quite like the idea of him modelling fancy underwear, and it might provide him with a little money. Anyway, I promised him I'd help to spruce him up ready for some photos, and he'll be waiting in the showers for me.'

'Damn,' the boy grinned, 'I should have waited, and given Paul another chance to flash his bits at me.'

'I was going to shave his crack, I'm not sure he's ready for an audience for that yet, but I'm sure you'll get to see anything you want later.'

'I suppose so, shame I missed my chance though, shall I make some breakfast instead?'

'Yeah, that's be nice, bacon butties all round I should think.' I wrapped my towel round my hips and grabbed my wash kit, there didn't seem to be much point in putting any more clothes on.

'Oh, by the way,' Ewan said, as I was heading along the boat.

'Yes?' I replied.

'I retrieved these,' he smiled and waved my discarded paisley y fronts from the previous nights adventures.

'Thanks, where were they?'

'Hooked up on a bush on the towpath next to the boat, obviously no passing underwear fanciers round here, or they'd have gone.'

'That's good, chuck them on my bed would you, and they'll live to fight another day.' I said over my shoulder as I left the boat. Outside the sun was already quite strong, which was just as well as my towel was thin, there was no one to be seen on the towpath or crossing the road bridge. It was hard to believe that we were no more than ten miles from home; there was only the familiar roar of the planes flying into and out of Heathrow to remind us of where we were. I hadn't bothered to put on any shoes, and trod carefully on the sun warmed concrete path that lead me to the washing block, as I opened the door I could hear the sound of a shower, and billows of steam poured out. Inside, the white tiled interior was lit by shafts of sunlight from the narrow metal-framed windows mounted high on the walls. Paul was already under the shower spray, his naked back to me, and rinsing the shampoo out of his thick brown hair. I didn't speak, but closed the door behind me (there was no lock), and tossing my towel onto a sink I joined him under the water.

'Ah there you are,' he shouted over his shoulder as he felt my warm hands clasping his cheeks, 'about bloody time too, I was starting to go all wrinkly.'

'Not round here you're not,' I said, sliding one hand over his pert buttocks and checking out his substantial erection with the other, 'help me get washed and then we'll sort out your five o'clock shadow.' I handed Paul my bottle of shower gel, and let him get on with it. I find it intensely pleasurable to be washed by someone else, especially when that person already has an intimate knowledge of my body. As I stood there, massaging shampoo into my hair, Paul slowly and expertly soaped me up, starting at my armpits and working his hands down over my chest. With easy familiarity he splashed a handful of shower gel onto my pubes and began lathering it into my crotch. My cock had only been semi-erect up to now, after all it had been up and down several times that morning, but the application of Pauls soapy and confident hands soon had it springing back into life.

'Better get you nice and clean,' he said, as he gently pulled back my foreskin and applied soap to my cock head.

'I should do the same for you,' I replied, feeling slightly guilty that I had completely succumbed to the notion of pleasure.

'I guess so,' he answered; kneeling down before me and, pushing my legs apart, he ran one soapy hand up from the base of my balls to the top of my crack in one assured movement. I shivered with enjoyment as his slippery fingertips teased the sensitive skin around my anus, he must have sensed my pleasure, because he paused for a moment, squirted a little more soap onto his hand, then resumed his investigations. Paul may have determined some time ago that his anus was a no-go area, but this complicated boy seemed to have decided that mine was fair game, his actions passed beyond mere washing as he circled my pucker with his middle finger, eventually allowing his probing digit to slip into my hole for an all too brief moment. Abruptly, as if he had overstepped some self- imposed boundary, he stood up and handed me the shower gel; 'better get on, Ewan will be wondering what we're up to.'

Mentally shrugging my shoulders, I knelt down just as he had done, and grabbing hold of his cock I pulled back the foreskin and carefully washed his glans. Similarly, I squirted a dollop of shower gel onto my palm and applied it to his crack, although I made no attempt to do anything other than wash him. Once I was satisfied that we were both done, and we were fully rinsed, I took him by the hand and led him over to the low wooden bench that ran along one side of the room, 'Ok big boy, sit down on that and spread 'em,' I said, grinning at him. Paul obediently sat down, his legs apart, and I knelt down and carefully smoothed shaving foam over his crotch, I was much more confident than the first time I'd shaved him, and holding onto his solid cock (for his safety, of course!) I was able to get him clean and smooth without any nicks or cuts. 'Right,' I commanded, 'you'll have to kneel down on the floor, stick your bum in the air and put one knee up on the bench.' He groaned and assumed the awkward position, pillowing his head on his arms, his cheeks spread wide and inviting my inspection. Without wishing to be cruel, I took my time; gently running my fingers along his crack to get a feel for where the stubble was. Through the v-shape between his thighs I could see that his cock was still fully engorged, and I carefully applied more shaving foam from the base of his balls to the top of his crack. I then methodically smoothed the cream in, making sure that all the areas I needed to shave were properly covered. As it was the most delicate and sensitive area, I gave special attention to his pucker; holding his slippery cheeks apart and gently rubbing on extra foam. He didn't appear to be bothered when I too probed his noticeably more relaxed hole a little, I know it was naughty of me, but then he had been being a prick tease.

'Just get on with it,' he moaned, 'I'm getting stiff here.'

A quick grope with a soapy hand for confirmation, and I replied; 'So you are, fancy my not noticing.'

'Oh hah, bloody hah,' he retorted, 'you know what I mean.'

'Ok,' I said, regretfully ceasing my investigations, 'but you shouldn't interrupt an artist, especially when he's holding a razor.' I quickly and carefully shaved the rest of him, a quick wipe down with my sponge and a second inspection revealed that he was, once more, smooth as a babies bottom. 'There you are,' I said, offering him a hand up, 'all done, and no need to make such a fuss.' As Paul got to his feet, he stumbled momentarily and our erections clashed together, reminding me of that moment when he had fallen on top of me, and I had felt his cock for the first time; how things had moved on for both of us since then. 'Come on then, let's get cleaned up.' We walked over to the shower and I rinsed the last of the shaving foam off him.

As I patted him dry, and prepared to rub a little lotion onto his smooth crotch, he looked at me and asked; 'How are you feeling?'

I was startled, and caught off guard, Paul had never asked that sort of question before; 'Umm, horny, and bloody frustrated,' I stammered.

'How do you mean?' he asked.

'Well, I've been getting seriously turned on every few minutes since we came away on the boat, and I'm really going to have to come soon, or I think I might burst.'

'Oh, I see,' he answered, 'it's a bit awkward with the tiddler along, but maybe we'll get a chance to sort you out later.'

'If I can hold out that long,' I said seriously, 'anyway, let's not panic, I'm sure I'll get my moment, and I'm sure it'll be a good one when it comes, let's get back to the boat, Ewan's making us breakfast.' We wrapped ourselves back in our towels, I gave the room a quick mop round to remove any evidence, and we made our way out into the sunshine.

'It's nice to feel the sun on your back, isn't it?' Paul asked.

'Yes,' I agreed, 'and even nicer with a bacon buttie and a cup of tea in your hand.'

Ewan had come up trumps, there was a big plate of butties, and as we bundled into the boat he was pouring out the tea; 'Shall I be mother?' he asked, grinning at us.

'If that's what floats your boat,' I replied.

'I'm just going to put some clothes on,' Paul said, 'then I think we should get going, we can eat this as we go.'

'Good idea,' I said, 'back in a second.' I ducked into my cabin and pulled on my white shorts, I decided not to bother with any pants for the moment, there would be plenty of opportunities to choose a pair later.

Ewan smiled at me as I walked back into the galley, 'Everything ok?'

'Yeah, I guess so, I'm looking forward to finishing off what you started this morning though, I feel as though I haven't come for weeks.'

'You poor thing,' he leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss, delicately groping the front of my shorts as he did so. My poor beleaguered prick, which had subsided a little, sprang back into life again as it responded to his familiar touch, 'oh dear, we really had better do something about that,' he grinned, 'but just for now it'll have to be tea and butties.'

I grabbed the mugs of tea, and Ewan the plate, and we made our way through to the stern of the boat. As I pushed through the doors into Pauls cabin, I heard the stuttering roar of the marine diesel struggling into life. Pausing only to note that Paul too had opted for shorts and no pants, the wide legs of his blue nylon running shorts leaving little to the imagination, I passed him up his mug of tea and made my way past him to untie the boat. I stayed in the bows for a few moments, just in case we needed fending off as we came out of the mooring, but I needn't have bothered, Paul was quite skilled at steering and very soon we were on our way. I walked back along the side of the boat, and joined the others, who were stuffing their sandwiches down as though they were going out of fashion. I took one, and swigging my tea, sat companionably on the roof next to Ewan.

'Paul was just telling me about his new money making idea,' Ewan said, between mouthfuls, 'it sounded promising, if you are going to help, of course.'

'Oh yes, which one was that?' I asked.

'What we talked about this morning,' Paul interrupted.

'I'm not sure what you mean,' I lied.

'You know,' Ewan said, 'the offer to do a bit of catalogue modelling.'

'Oh, that,' I said, feigning a lack of interest, 'I wasn't entirely sure where I came in.'

'I thought that you could take some test shots for me, and that might get you some work with these people too.' Paul chimed in, 'and maybe Ewan would like to do some pics as a try-out?'

'Yeah, I'm game,' Ewan said, 'I've always enjoyed having my picture taken.'

'You do realise that Paul has been asked to model underwear and swimwear?' I added.

'Yes, so he told me, nothing wrong with that, we're all boys together after all, and he says he's done it before.'

'Ok, well maybe we'll do some when we stop at the old mill, how far is it?' I asked Paul.

'Oh, about an hour and a half, there's nothing but a pair of locks before we get there.'

'You said there's a good place to swim?' Ewan asked.

'Yeah, what used to be the millpond.'

'Isn't that going to be full of mud and leeches?'

'No, the sluice gates have mostly collapsed, so there is quite a strong current where it drains into a river, and it's all sandy round there. It's a really cool place, and best of all is that you have to know it's there. It's very close to the canal, but all the old moorings are long gone, and there's a big clump of willows that hide it from view.'

'Sounds great,' Ewan smiled, 'I'm really looking forward to it.'

'Well, I don't know about the rest of you,' I said, 'but until we hit the locks, I'm going to catch some rays, unless you want me to steer, of course.'

'No, you go on,' Paul said, 'Ewan and I will look after things, and I'll call you when we need you.'

I made my way down to the front of the boat, and grabbed the beach towel from inside Ewans cabin where it had ended up, in truth I didn't particularly want to sunbathe, but I wanted time to think; Paul had, as he had done so many times in the past, taken the initiative away from me, it had never bothered me that much before, but this time I was worried that I might need to protect my lover. As I basked in the sunshine I realised that Ewan was right, all that was needed to get Paul to back off was to suggest that what he was proposing was a bit gay. I must have dozed off in the warm sunlight, because I woke up and Ewan was sitting cross-legged on the roof facing me, 'Hey,' he said quietly.

'Hey to you,' I replied, 'did you realise that I can see right up the leg of your shorts?'

'I thought you might, and I knew you'd look,' he grinned, 'the way you are lying there isn't exactly hiding your charms either, we passed a boat a while back and I swear the bloke steering it nearly went into the bank.'

'Ah well, let's hope I brightened his day then,' I answered, putting a lazy arm behind my back to feel how much I was exposing to view. The answer was quite a lot, my white rugby shorts were fairly minimal anyway, and I hadn't bothered to do up the string that is meant to keep them up, so they were hanging a bit low, showing a bit of bum at the top and giving any passer-by a clear view up the leg. 'Oops,' I said, sitting up.

'Never mind, I took a sweet picture of you sleeping in the sunshine,' he smiled, 'anyway, the reason I woke you is that the locks are coming up and Paul wants to know if you wanted to take the boat through this time.'

'I'm honoured,' I said, 'I'd be happy to, and I could even try and take some proper pics for your project while I'm at it.' I stretched and yawned before making my way to the stern of the boat, Paul had already opened up the locker and taken out the windlass keys, he handed over the tiller to me and gave one of the keys to Ewan. Ewan in turn handed me up my camera, which I hung on a convenient hook ready for action. We were unlucky this time, the locks were set against us, so I carefully pulled our boat into the side and the two boys jumped ashore and ran off to open the gates.

There was nothing remarkable about our traversing of the locks, I took some pictures of Ewan and Paul sweating as they pushed open the heavy gates, the bright sunlight made Ewans' white nylon shorts almost transparent, and Pauls skimpy running shorts gave me more than an eyeful when the angle was right, somehow I doubted that these pictures would make it into the project file either.

I had busied myself making tea whilst I was waiting, and brought the mugs, and a packet of digestive biscuits up on deck as soon as we had left the second lock. Slurping noisily at his tea, Paul grabbed a biscuit and dunked it in his mug, 'you know,' he said through a soggy mouthful, 'I've heard of a game you can play with these.'

'Oh yeah?' Ewan asked, 'I'm intrigued, tell us all about it, oh games master.'

Paul blushed, 'I'm not sure that now is the best time, maybe we can talk about it later, after we've had supper.'

'Oh, ok,' I said, not wanting to press the issue, 'tell us about it tonight, it'd better be more fun than playing pontoon with you though.'

'I don't know what you mean,' he said, 'I enjoyed our game last night and I was looking forward to trying a different one.'

'That's because you won,' I said, 'it'd be a different story if you had lost.'

'That's not true, I can handle losing, it just doesn't happen very often,' he said huffily, 'but anyway, we're coming up to the mill, there's a really good mooring, but I'll need to take the boat in. Can you clear everything loose off the deck.'

Mystified, we complied with his instructions, there was nothing much to see, except we were approaching a big clump of trees on the next bend. The clump was dominated by a huge and gnarled weeping willow whose branches dropped right down to the water, I soon realised that this was our destination, as Paul steered straight for it, throttling the engine back and expertly throwing the boat into reverse to bring us to a gentle standstill under the shade of the tree. He turned the engine off and we sat for a moment in silence in our shadowy green world.

We tied the boat off to a couple of convenient branches, and looked about us; 'Um, how do we get onto shore?' I asked, as the nearest part of the boat was about six feet from the decayed and muddy bank.

'Aha,' Paul said triumphantly, 'follow me.' He stood on top of the boat and hoisted himself into the tree; a long horizontal branch gave him an easy route to the shore, which, given his previous history of falling into things, was probably a good thing.

I shrugged and stood up, as did Ewan, 'Ah, I see a problem,' I said.

'Come on you two, I've got things to show you,' Paul shouted impatiently from the bank.

'You lead the way, we're following right behind,' I called back. Although Ewan was perfectly normally proportioned for his age (except for the one area which was slightly more generous), he still wasn't very tall, and the branch in question was just out of his reach. 'I think I'd better give you a boost,' I said.

'Yes, I think you had,' he answered gravely.

I cupped my hands together and offered them to him, he stepped into them and I lifted his slender body up, his nylon-clad crotch pressing deliciously into my face as he scrambled for a handhold. I breathed in deeply, savouring his delicious musty boy smell, 'Oh, I've missed you,' I said suddenly.

Ewan pulled himself up onto the branch and sat down, his legs dangling; 'how d'you mean?'

'We've been together on this boat for a night and we've hardly touched each other, and now we have to pretend that we don't have any feelings for each other in front of Paul.'

'Oh, poor you,' Ewan said sympathetically. 'I didn't realise it was so hard.'

'That's the trouble,' I moaned, 'look at it, it's missing you too.' My cock was stiff again, just from our brief encounter, and ridging out the front of my rugby shorts.

'Hmm, we're going to have to do something about this,' said Ewan, 'Paul doesn't seem to be disturbed by the whole voyeur thing, does he?'

'No, I guess not, what would be the killer for him would be if he realised that we actually loved each other. He hasn't really equated sex and love yet, that's why he gets nowhere with the girls; he wants a fuck; they want to know about his feelings, and randy isn't ever going to be a good enough answer.'

'Well, maybe we should let our photo session carry on a little further than he's expecting, but let him think he is leading it, that way we might all get our jollies.'

'You are a very wise young man,' I said, 'and it is an honour and a privilege to know you.'

'Thank you,' he replied, 'should we go and have a look?' He pulled himself upright and scampered along the branch; I waited for him to hit the ground, then followed after.

There wasn't much of the old mill left, a few tumbledown buildings, an open space presumably where the yard would have been, and what had been a large millpond banked with solid looking stone sides. True to Pauls' word, the whole site was completely screened off from the canal on one side by the clump of willows, and on the other by an even bigger stand of poplars. Subsidence or design meant that the whole site was in a hollow, protected from what little wind there was, and creating a suntrap.

'What do you think, lads?' Paul called from his vantage point sitting on some collapsed stonework.

'It's great,' we chorused.

'What shall we do then?' Paul asked.

'How about we all have a bit of a swim, and then maybe we take a few pictures,' I said, determined to regain the initiative.

'That sounds good,' Paul agreed, 'let's get our stuff from the boat.'

'D'you want to come over, or shall I bring your things back for you?' I asked Ewan, not wishing Paul to discover that Ewan couldn't easily get off the boat without assistance.

'Yeah, that would be kind,' he answered, 'all my stuff except my camera is packed into the duffle bag on my bed, and the camera is hanging on the hook by my bed.'

Paul and I made our way back to the boat, I found Ewans stuff and jammed my towel, my speedos and some of my underwear in with it. I was also able to cram in our two cameras, the little automatic camera and all the rolls of film. With my, by now rather bulky cargo, I made my way back along the boat; to my slight surprise, Paul was standing naked in his cabin; 'Come on mate, get a move on,' I said, 'what's the problem?'

'I wasn't sure which to wear?' he pointed at his bed; he'd laid out his familiar gold speedos and another pair, royal blue and rather more minimalist in cut.

'When did you get those?' I asked, picking them up, 'they're really good.'

'I bought them from the clothes shop at the same time as my new pants,' Paul answered, 'I thought I'd surprise you.'

'You have, let's see them on you then.' He pulled them on; they were a very good fit, by which I mean they were just able to contain his bulging package, but at the same time they weren't too tight fitting. They were cut very high on the hip, and had a tiny waistband, if he'd still had any pubes they would have been just showing; 'you'll need to do up the strings or they'll not stay up if you get a bit horny,' I grinned, 'how do they feel?'

'Even better than my gold ones, they're really light and soft.'

I couldn't resist giving him a stroke on the bum, the fabric was very sheer and smooth to the touch, 'Mmm, very nice,' I agreed, 'well that's good, we've got two things at least for you to model.'

'Yeah,' he agreed, 'that's true. So, do you think this modelling idea is a good one?' Paul suddenly looked quite vulnerable, and I felt sorry for him, for once his life wasn't full of certainties and he was having to think a little instead of just react.

'It's your call, I think we need to try and manage it a bit though.'

'How do you mean?'

'By controlling the images you let them see, that way we can discover if they're dodgy or not.'

'So you think I should do it?'

'Yeah, I don't see why not, as long as we take the pics. We'll soon find out if that is all they're interested in. I think when we do the session, though, we have to divide it into two parts.'

'What do you mean?' Paul interrupted my musings.

'I mean that we should take some sexy but not very explicit pics first, see what your man in the tailors shop thinks of them, and then maybe if we take things a little further and if you think it's ok, then we could let him see those later. What do you think?'

'I'm cool, although it's difficult not to get turned on, thinking about it and wearing these.'

'So I can see,' I grinned, 'I think we'll allow a little bit turned on for some of the pics, especially if it looks like it's unintentional. Anyway, let's get on, we've got things to do.' As we left the boat, Paul carefully locked the padlock; 'Why are you doing that?' I asked.

'Somebody might nick it,' he replied.

'That somebody might decide to come and watch us doing a porno shoot instead,' I countered.

'There won't be anybody,' he said impatiently, 'it's just that I promised my uncle I wouldn't leave it unlocked anywhere if I wasn't on it.' He handed me the keys, 'stick those in the bag will you? I've nowhere safe to put them.'

I tucked them into the duffel bag with all the rest of our stuff, and we headed back towards the mill, Paul going first and taking the bag from me. At first it wasn't at all obvious where Ewan was, until the sound of splashing water revealed that he was in the mill pool and completely oblivious to us. I decided not to disturb him for the moment, and scouted out a good place in the shade to sort out the cameras, and the various items of clothing. I smiled happily when I saw that Ewans' selection included his g-string, and he'd brought the blue nylon slip that he so liked me to wear, I tucked them back into the duffel bag and put Pauls stuff out. As well as his speedos Paul had brought his new pants, and also a g-string, not the one he had acquired in the lakes, but a new one made of a rust coloured silky mesh fabric.

I realised I'd got it all wrong; he had listened to my lectures about eroticism after all. Suddenly I felt that all was well, we were none of us by any stretch of the imagination adults, but we were all enthusiastically consenting, and all we were planning to do was to have a bit of fun. While I was getting myself sorted out, Paul had been prowling about, I'd told him not to get his new speedos wet yet, so he was looking a bit lost,'why don't you put these ones on and cool off in the water for a bit?' I asked, waving his other speedos at him.

'Yeah, good idea,' he answered, and stripped off before walking over to pull on his swimmers.

Ewan must have spotted us, as he stood up in the water and waved; he hadn't bothered to change out of his white shorts, and the thin nylon clung to his crotch revealing every detail of his glorious package; 'it's lovely in here,' he shouted, 'the water's really warm.' His hazel eyes widened when he saw Paul walking towards him in his gold speedos and from where I was sitting, I could see his cock give a little twitch of excitement as he enjoyed the view.

'Come on then, I'll race you,' Paul said, competitive to the last.

'Where to?'

'Over to the mill and back to here, we can start from this bit of wall.'

'Ok,' Ewan said, splashing out of the pool, 'what's the prize for the winner?'

'Um, let's see, how about the loser has to do whatever the winner tells him to do?'

'What, forever?'

'No, of course not, just the once,' Paul said confidently.

'Are you sure about this?' I asked from the back row, 'remember the forfeits'.

'Yeah, 'course I am,' Paul answered, 'I won't make him do anything horrid.'

'I was asking Ewan,' I replied.

'Yeah, I'm cool,' my lover grinned.

'Tell you what,' Paul said, 'I'll give you a head start, that'd make it fair wouldn't it?'

I looked at the two of them, Paul had a weight and height advantage and I knew he was quite a strong swimmer, Ewan was an unknown quantity to me, fit and sturdy yes, but could he better the older boy? So I was a little surprised when Ewan chirped up; 'no need for that, perhaps I should let you start ahead of me.'

'Ok, enough posturing' I said, 'I'll start you off together, and make sure there's no cheating, and the last one back'll be the slave.' The boys lined up next to each other on the stone wall that we designated as start and finish; 'right then, on your marks, get set, go!' The boys hurled themselves into the water, and straight away it was obvious that this wasn't going to be much of a contest. Paul might have had the height and the weight, but Ewan was swimming like some kind of aquatic mammal, and streaked away from Paul as though he was standing still. He was already half way back before Paul even made the turn, and touched in triumphantly at my feet. I offered him my hand to pull him out of the water, and he clasped it and hauled himself out of the pool.

In the water behind him, Paul stopped swimming and stood up, his face convulsed with laughter, 'Hey, I think you may have lost something,' he shouted between guffaws, and reaching down he waved Ewans sodden white shorts in the air. They must have slipped off his slender hips when he entered the water, and he hadn't noticed. I too hadn't taken note of his nakedness, although now that I looked, his body, beaded all over with water droplets was glowing in the sunshine, and his sleek blonde pubes contrasted against his golden skin.

'Do you think that gave you an unfair advantage?' I grinned at him.

'Nah, he was never going to catch me.' Ewan replied.

Paul pulled himself out of the water, and sat on the low stone wall, one foot trailing in the pool, gazing up unselfconsciously at Ewans naked body, 'how come you're so quick in the water?' he asked.

'Dunno really, I suppose having a big brother who's a really strong swimmer makes all the difference. You have to try and keep up somehow.'

'Oh I see, all that we get for exercise is trying to avoid Mr Jekyll the head of maths, and he's not that fast, have you enjoyed the pleasure of his company yet?' Paul grinned, 'He'll love you, especially if he finds out you can swim like an otter.'

'No, but I've heard all about him, is it true that if you forget your kit he makes you swim naked?'

'Yeah, and he always looks over the top of the cubicle doors when you're changing. Mind you, I wouldn't have thought that would bother you.'

'How do you mean?' Ewan looked puzzled.

'You don't seem to be too worried about going naked,' Paul replied, and I couldn't help noticing that he was beginning to get a bit turned on.

'I prefer to have a bit of choice who I get naked around,' Ewan said firmly, holding his hand out for his shorts, 'not some ancient old pervert who smells of booze and cigarettes. I'll cover up if it bothers you?'

'No problem, doesn't make any difference to me,' Paul said dismissively, and inaccurately if the developing bulge in his speedos was anything to go by. 'So, what's my forfeit going to be?'

'Don't know, I'll have to give it some serious consideration, I'll let you know when I've thought of something appropriate,' Ewan grinned.

Paul looked a little apprehensive, and I intervened; 'don't be too adventurous, we've got a lot to do.'

'Don't worry,' Ewan said, 'I won't go over the top.'

'How about we take some pictures?' I asked.

'Yeah, let's,' Paul said, 'what shall we do?'

'We should do the fashion stuff for your potential employers, so go and get yourselves dried off and into your speedos.' Paul hauled himself upright and followed the younger boy over to where our clothes had all been dumped. Ewan towelled himself dry and handed the towel on to Paul. He picked up his faded red speedos, and looked over at me, 'will these do?'

'Yeah, they're fine, you're not supposed to be the star here, this is all about Paul and his new pants.'

In the meantime Paul had pulled on his new speedos, 'how do they look?' he asked, swivelling his hips and squinting round.

'They look great,' Ewan said, 'what are we going to do then?'

'I thought that we could do a few shots of you and Paul doing something vaguely sporty, you've got the choice of a Frisbee or a tennis ball. Lots of nice jumping and stretching, and then into the water for a bit of splashing about, but first off I want to take some more moody shots with Paul on his own.'

'Oh, right,' Ewan said, 'bags we use the Frisbee then, they're much more fun. I'll just wait for my call over here in the sun.'

I flashed him a smile, and turned to Paul, 'right then, operation millionaire, here we go.'

Paul grinned and said, 'ok, where do you want me?'

'Over there, by the wrecked building, I think we should do a few of you silhouetted against the trees and the sky, and then maybe some climbing on the stones.' In the heat of my passion for Ewan, I'd forgotten that Paul was capable of being a very sexy model too; he posed by the ruins, gazing soulfully into the sky and I crouched down low, seeking to capture the images of his body, from the luscious curves of his bum to the altogether promising bulge in the front of his speedos. I also grabbed the obligatory close up shots, familiar to all of us from swimwear catalogues and fashion magazines, not without appeal when there's nothing better to look at, but curiously sterile. 'Ok,' I said, once I had all the pictures I wanted, 'how about you do a bit of climbing?' Paul obligingly scrambled up a pile of rubble, and I followed along, snatching a few shots as he went ahead of me. Once at the top he sat down, leaning back and facing the camera, legs slightly apart, the bulge in his crotch very prominent.

Ewan in the meantime had spread the towel out and stretched out on his stomach, luxuriating in the sunshine. I'd taken a few shots of Paul that showed the younger boy snoozing in the distance, and now I indicated that Paul should come over as if to wake him up. He stood by Ewans shoulder looking down, and I took a shot of him gazing abstractedly at him, the fingers of one hand hovering over his waistband, as if he were discreetly caressing his cock. Paul extended his leg, and gently poked Ewan in the nylon clad bum with his big toe, the young boy woke up, and looked up at his persecutor.

'Fancy a bit of Frisbee, then?' Paul asked.

'If that's what you want to call it,' Ewan said cheekily.

'Come on then,' Paul said, choosing to ignore the double entendre.

Ewan stretched lazily and climbed onto his feet, and the two boys walked out to the open ground next to the swimming hole; 'Now don't get too far apart, or I won't be able to get both of you into the picture.' Frisbees might have been invented for the aspiring pornographer as they force the subjects to bend and stretch, and after a bit they forget all about what they are doing and just play. Paul and Ewan were in no way different, and pretty soon they were giggling and mucking about together. I was able to get some pretty uninhibited shots, even though neither of them was particularly aroused, just the sort of natural behaviour I reckoned that the underwear makers would be hoping to see. Once felt I'd taken enough pictures I addressed the laughing boys; 'Ok, that's all good stuff, but now I think we should see how you do in the water.' Ewan flicked the Frisbee into the millpond, and they jumped in after, both racing to get there first. They arrived more or less simultaneously, jostling and frolicking in the water, their young bodies gleaming like seals as they struggled to grab the toy. Pauls' inhibitions about doing anything that seemed overtly gay didn't seem to apply when he was in the water and I grabbed a picture of him grappling with Ewan, holding him by the waistband of his speedos, and practically stripping them off him in his competitive frenzy. I suppose it wasn't so very different from the debagging and so forth that was a regular feature of life at an English boys school.

Order was eventually restored, and Ewan pulled his speedos back up, casting a speculative look at the older boy, who seemed oblivious. 'Right,' I commanded, 'it's looking good, I want to get in a bit closer, but I don't want my camera wrecked, so play nicely boys.'

As I stepped carefully into the millpond, my camera held high, Paul and Ewan stopped thrashing about and waited for me to join them. It was surprisingly warm, and just reached to the top of my thighs, I was very aware of the small ripples of sun-heated water slapping gently against my balls as I waded towards the others, a curiously erotic sensation, and as I looked at the two sleek boys, their packages clearly defined in their saturated speedos I could feel myself beginning to get turned on. I dipped down in the water to wet my speedos too, and caught sight of Ewan eyeing me up and grinning privately as he noticed that my cock was starting to stiffen. 'Ok,' I said, 'let's take a few pictures of you chucking the Frisbee about in the water, but be careful, try not to splash too much.'

Ewan had somehow managed to hang onto the Frisbee, and tossed it gently to Paul, he leaped in the air to catch it, and managed to land without a major splash, he tossed it back to Ewan who also had to jump for it, and I realised that he too was beginning to stiffen up, his long and slender shaft becoming very apparent as it started to distend the faded red nylon of his speedos. I saw Pauls' eyes widen as he noticed this development and I focussed my lens on his crotch as the inevitable happened and he too began to get aroused. The blue fabric of his fancy speedos struggled to contain the fat curve of his cock, it was fortunate that he had done up the ties or I suspect that it would just have popped out. As it was, the fine material proved to be equal to the task of containing his manhood, even though it was stretched very tight, and left almost nothing to the imagination.

I was curious about how Paul would react, after all, here we were, standing up to our thighs in water, and all three of us sporting hard-ons, and he hadn't previously shown so much to Ewan. I needn't have worried, in typical Paul fashion he decided that as he wasn't actually wanking then nothing was happening and we just carried on as before; the two boys presenting a slightly more hardcore image than I had hoped for. After a few minutes I felt that I had exhausted the erotic potential of standing in a pond, and suggested that we should move back onto dry land. Paul slipped under the water and swam back to the shore; Ewan wading companionably along by my side. In the meantime Paul had clambered out, and was sitting on the sun-warmed wall, his feet trailing in the water, and his cock very prominent as he watched us walk towards him. I snatched a couple of shots from the water, finishing off the film, and then we too climbed out.

'What shall we do now?' Paul asked, leaning back on his hands as he looked up at us.

'I think we're done with speedos now,' I answered, 'how about we do some pictures in your posh undies?'

'Just what I was thinking,' he replied, 'what about the tiddler though?'

'Less of the tiddler stuff, if you don't mind,' Ewan protested, 'I could just fill in the background like before? I'll put on my baggy old school pants, so I won't look more glam than you.'

'Yeah, that's cool,' Paul said, 'and once we're done with me, we should take a few pics just of you.'

'Yeah, why not,' the younger boy agreed, 'don't see why you should be the one getting all the attention after all.'

'Ok, let's all get dried off and get changed,' I said. There didn't seem much point in false modesty by now, so we all stripped naked and shared the beach towel between us. Our erections had, by now, subsided to a sort of general state of readiness. In the early summer sunshine and gentle breeze it didn't take very long for us to get completely dry, and the slightly mad hair that we'd all ended up with just added to the effect. I went over to the shady place where I had stashed my stuff, Ewan had already collected his bundle of clothes and wandered off to get ready, Paul followed after me to get his and do likewise.

I pulled on the pale blue nylon slip that both Ewan and Paul seemed to appreciate and loaded my camera, and the little automatic camera with film. Ewan had taken his with him, and indeed, now that I looked, I could see him industriously photographing the old mill buildings, his slender frame accentuated by the baggy old school pants he was wearing.

Paul had put on his new semi-transparent pants, and in the bright sunshine they left little to the imagination, 'just as well you had a shave,' I grinned, 'you're not really concealing much.'

'Nor are you,' he riposted, and it was true, as soon as I'd clapped eyes on him in his new pants my cock had begun to thicken up again, and the skimpy nylon of my pants was beginning to be stretched away from my body.

'Oops,' I smiled, 'just can't help it, you have that effect on me.'

'What are we going to do?' Paul asked.

'I think we should do a few carefully posed shots around the site, then we should include Ewan, as though he had somehow intruded on our private moment; I'll do a few pics of him, and you can take some of the pair of us with the little camera if you like.'

'That sounds good, where do you want me?'

'If you go and set yourself up over by that tumbledown wall, I'll just explain to Ewan what we are going to do.' I walked across to the ruined mill building, Ewan had vanished from view, but it was clear that he had gone inside, and I followed. I found him perched on top of a wall, trying to get a picture of the wrecked water wheel, 'try not to get too grubby yet,' I implored him.

'Don't worry, these are clean, and I'll keep them this way for the moment,' he grinned, 'have you worked out what we're doing?'

'Yes, I think so. I'm going to do some straightforward modelling shots with Paul, and maybe you could take a couple of pics of me doing that? Then, Paul will supposedly notice you taking pictures, thus getting you into the frame, and we'll carry on from there.'

'Ok,' Ewan said, 'let's do it.' We walked back out into the sunshine from the cool dampness of the old mill house and back over to the open space where Paul was waiting for us.

'Sorted?' he asked.

'Yeah,' I answered, 'I think so, shall we?' I had decided that Paul should pose among the stones of a tumbledown outbuilding, his motivation being that he was examining the stonework, although why anyone would do that dressed only in a pair of very minimal pants is anybody's guess, still, I've seen sillier scenarios. He posed in the doorframe, the shafts of sunlight still strong and bright, and revealing more than the fabric of his pants could conceal. I took pictures from all angles, and was very aware that my cock was stiffening up again; Paul was sufficiently self-absorbed not to notice. Ewan took a few shots of us; me crouched on the ground shooting up, the pale nylon of my pants distended by my rigid column, and Paul staring moodily into the distance, his body half-turned and his generous package in profile.

We moved inside the building, where I had previously noticed a big stone slab, solidly seated on a pile of rubble. Paul initially sat down on the edge of the stone, once again staring past the camera, as if lost in thought, his hands loosely by his sides, and I took a few shots. Then he folded his arms behind his head and laid back, closing his eyes as though drifting off to sleep, and I was able to take some close up shots of his crotch, giving detailed attention to the fit of his new pants. At last one of his hands crept down towards his waist, coming to rest at his waistband, with his fingertips just touching his cock. As I watched, fascinated, and increasingly aroused, he began to stiffen up, the fine material and structure of his pants guiding the growth of his erection up towards the minimal waistband. I clicked away, ever more conscious of my own hardness and of my lack of fulfilment, as Paul gently stroked his cock through the fabric with the tip of a finger.

At this moment I became aware that Ewan was framed in the distance through the gaping hole where a window had once been, camera in hand innocently photographing rocks, and I shifted my position to include him in the shot. Paul in the meantime was blatantly caressing the whole length of his erection, and I could see the damp stain of his pre-cum spreading on the fine cloth. 'This would be a good moment to realise you might be overlooked,' I murmured to Paul.

'Hmm, what?' he asked, clearly on another planet.

'You're supposed to notice Ewan, out there, through the window, do keep up,' I replied.

'Oh, yeah,' he finally remembered. I moved up by Pauls head, right on cue, his blue eyes snapped open, and he looked over to the window through which Ewan could be seen, camera held up to his eye. Paul stretched languidly, got up off the slab and walked over to the windowless frame; he poked his head through, leaning on the sill and looked out towards the boy. From my vantage point, I was very conscious that his erection had stretched the semi-transparent material of his pants tightly over the globes of his butt. He had spread his legs apart as he made himself comfortable, and a broad stripe of bright sunlight traced a diagonal line from his hips to his thighs, plainly revealing the pink pucker of his anus to me and my camera.

If I had been feeling horny before, then that was nothing to how this made me feel now; it was almost as though I didn't dare touch my cock in case I came; the two boys that I desired most were both flaunting themselves in front of me. Standing behind Paul I felt a desperate desire finally to consummate our relationship, but as with Ewan, I had given him a solemn promise that I would never try to make him do anything that he didn't want to. Add to that his total denial that we actually had a relationship, or indeed that what we were doing was anything other than straightforward sexual experimenting, and that made me a frustrated and confused bunny. I had thought that my real love for Ewan would have made all this a thing of the past, but somehow Paul hadn't gone away and indeed was back with a bang. With the benefit of hindsight it might not have been the most sensible idea to come away on the boat, thus far I'd come very close to getting my jollies, but; a thorn between two roses, I didn't know which way to turn. Ah well, I mentally shrugged, better just grin and bare it, the best things come to those who wait. For some reason my mind sometimes gets stuck in random cliché mode when I'm under pressure.

Meanwhile, back to the story; I had a lovely image of Paul spread legged in the window, and Ewan in the middle distance, innocently photographing ruins whilst wearing nothing but his baggy white school y-fronts. Paul called out to him; 'I think it might be your turn in a minute, it's nice and cozy in here, out of the breeze and full of sunshine.'

Ewan nodded and replied; 'Ok, I'll just take a picture of you in the window, then I'll come and join you.'

Paul smiled as the young boy came in through the ruined doorway, and sat back down on the sun-warmed slab, leaning on his hands, legs casually apart and making no attempt to disguise his erect cock. This was perhaps the first moment that Ewan had realised that Paul was quite so turned on, and that he was still completely unconcerned to be seen like this by another boy. His eyes widened as he took in the vision, 'Wow,' he said, 'your pants look great, if they have that effect on everyone then they're going to sell loads.' He quickly snapped a picture of the two of us; I was standing by Pauls shoulder, camera in hand, looking down at his bulging lap, my own pants stretched away from my body by the pressure of my erection.

From my position, I could see Ewan in profile, and I could also see the front of his pants beginning to bulge as he started to stiffen up. 'I think we've done enough of me,' Paul said, 'how about you finish off your film with the young'un?'

'Ok,' I answered, 'if you're up for it?' I looked over at Ewan, away from Pauls' line of sight he discreetly winked at me.

'Yeah, I'm game,' he replied, 'although I don't see how I'm going to top that,' He waved his hand in the direction of Pauls cock.

'Just do what you feel like,' Paul interrupted, 'if I have any suggestions, I'll let you know.'

'Bet you will,' I muttered.

Paul got up and wandered over to the doorway, 'I'll just go and fetch the other camera, I might take a few snaps of the two of you, don't wait for me though.'

'Ok, we'll get ourselves sorted out here.' I answered.

As soon as Paul was out of the door Ewan jumped on me, kissing me passionately, his tongue forcing my lips apart, and a hand possessively clutching my erect cock. Taken by surprise, I clasped his warm body to mine, before cupping his soft cotton-covered butt with both hands and pulling him against me.

'That was agony,' he moaned, when he came up for air, 'I was really scared of what I was going to see when I came in here.'

'Oh, poor you,' I sympathised, 'what were you expecting to find?'

'I don't know really, I was worried that I might have lost you to him.'

'To Paul!' I snorted, 'he just wants his todger pulled, if he thought there were any feelings involved then he'd have run a mile by now.'

'but you used to be lovers?' he quavered.

'Never like you and I,' I answered, 'he just likes doing it with someone else, and until a girl comes along, then I will have to do. I tell you what though, I wouldn't be half as good a photographer if I hadn't had Paul to practise with.'

'and probably not such a good lover either,' he smiled, and suddenly it was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. 'What do you want to do then?'

'I thought we could do the lazy schoolboy dozing in the sun scenario.'

'Tell me more.'

'Not much to it, you settle down to do a little sunbathing, change position a few times to get comfy, then you start to get a little turned on, and away you go. Should be enough there to keep Paul entertained.'

'Sounds ok, I might have a bit of a surprise for you both though, shall we get started?'

'Sounds intriguing, but yes, let's, I've only about ten frames left on this film, so we can do the establishing shots before I need to reload.'

Ewan wandered over to the stone slab that Paul had also been modelling on, and posed with one foot up on it, before stretching exaggeratedly and settling down to lay on his front, head pillowed on his forearms. The loose white cotton material of his pants was baggy enough to drape rather than cling to his cheeks, and he looked impossibly young and vulnerable curled up on the stone. He also looked deeply desirable, and my cock, which had temporarily given up hope, suddenly began to revive. Ewan shifted his position, rolling over onto his side, tucking his knees up and pushing one hand through his legs to grip his ankle. I photographed this pleasing vision until I had used the last few frames up, 'Ok, I just have to reload,' I said, 'don't go anywhere.'

'Don't worry, I won't,' he answered softly.

It only took a minute to reload, and I turned back to my subject, he hadn't moved, and for a moment I thought he'd fallen asleep, then I noticed that his hazel eyes were open and he was looking up at me, 'Ok?' I asked.

'Yeah,' he smiled, 'let's carry on.' He rolled slowly onto his back, eyes demurely closed once more, hands loosely by his side.

'Right then,' I said, crouching down to get a good angle, 'ready when you are.' Ewan knew how to take it slow, and I concentrated my attention on taking a few pics of his recumbent body. Ever so slowly, his left hand began a tentative journey from its resting position by his thigh, over his hip, before coming to rest, still relaxed, on the waistband of his pants. As I watched through the viewfinder of my camera, his fingers slowly uncurled, and began to explore the soft mound that contained his penis. His gently probing fingertips soon located their target, and his cock responded swiftly to his careful stimulation, growing quickly into a rigid column plainly discernable through the soft white fabric.

'Mmm, that's lovely,' I encouraged him, 'let's have a little more hand action.' Ewan didn't really need any prompting, the boy was a natural after all, but I believed it was important to keep him stimulated, although if he felt anything like I did, he would be aching to spill his spunk at the earliest opportunity. By way of a response, his right hand rose slowly from its resting place, and he began softly to caress his nipples, which were also quite erect. With the forefinger of his other hand he began a lazy exploration of the detailing of his pants, following the 'y' down from the waistband, over his bulging crotch and down between his legs. He stroked his perineum for a moment, and then began the return journey, investigating the possibilities of the fly hole briefly, before returning to the waistband. Finally, he slowly ran his fingertips along the stiff column of his cock; there was already a very obvious damp patch at the end, where he had started leaking pre-cum, and he probed at this with obvious enjoyment before bringing his fingers up to his nose for a sniff. He stuck his damp fingers between his ruby lips, and opened his eyes again, looking directly at me through the lens and smiling happily.

I would have been quite content to put my camera to one side, and make love in the sunshine, but the recollection that we were putting on a bit of an exhibition for Paul put a stop to that idea. Although where the older boy had got to was a bit of a mystery, if he didn't hurry up, there wouldn't be anything to see. 'That's wonderful,' I croaked, dry-mouthed, 'don't stop now.'

Ewan grinned naughtily and sucked obscenely on his forefinger, sliding the digit in and out in a crude yet erotic parody of a blowjob. Once he was satisfied that I was getting the point; and the state of my hard on, spilling my pre- cum through the pale blue nylon, must have been more than enough to convince him, he returned to the matter in hand. This time he moved both hands down to his crotch, and, in an image familiar to me from the first pics I had seen of him, he framed his erection with both his hands, arching his back to make his bulge look more prominent.

As I crouched down to get a better angle, I heard Pauls' voice and the snap of the little camera behind me; 'That's looking good, and it's given me an idea.'

I looked back over my shoulder; he hadn't changed out of his posh pants, even though they were rather stained from his earlier exertions. It was a tribute to the skill of the designer that they still looked as sexy as they did. 'Go on,' I said.

'Do you remember when you photographed me in school pants like Ewans?' (see Pauls Pants episode 3).

'Yes of course,' I answered.

'You guided me to get the sexiest images, I thought you might be able to do the same for him.'

'I suppose could, if he's up for it.'

'I'm game, although I don't know what you're talking about.' Ewan chipped in.

'I'll talk you through it,' I grinned, 'shall we continue?'

'Yeah,' he wiggled his bum and settled back, lifting his knees up and spreading his legs.

'That's nice,' I said, conscious that Paul was clicking away behind me, 'now, maybe you could slip your hand under the waistband?'

'Ok,' he agreed, and slowly shoved his hand down the front of his pants. I could clearly see the outline of his knuckles as he gripped hold of his cock. 'Very good,' I said, 'but it would be nice to see up the leg hole, perhaps I can assist you?'

'Please do,' he laughed.

I shuffled nearer, and reached out with one hand, holding the camera with the other. I placed my hand carefully on the warm skin of his thigh before sliding it slowly up the leg hole, instantly I worked out what Ewans' surprise was, as my knuckles encountered some more fine fabric, instead of the warm and naked flesh of his perineum.

Ewan caught my eye and winked at me, 'you're full of surprises,' I murmured.

'Yup,' he grinned cheekily.

Pauls superior angle meant that this was all going past him, he couldn't see or feel what I could, so I decided to save the surprise for later and carry on as if nothing was different. 'Try and show me a little more,' I said.

Ewan spread his legs further, and with the back of his hand lifted the loose white cotton away from his cock, from my vantage point I could see that he was also wearing a pair of very minimal white pants, probably girls panties, given his past record.

'Roll over, and give me some more,' I asked.

Ewan did as I asked, sticking his bum up in the air, and caressing the hard column of his cock through the cotton. I bent down as low as I could, to get the shot through his legs, and then, casting a quick look over my shoulder to see how Paul was getting on, I suggested; 'perhaps we're ready for the surprise now?'

'Yeah,' Ewan answered, 'let's do it.'

'Can you cover this?' I asked Paul, 'I'll need both hands.'

Paul nodded, lifted the camera to his eye, and moved a little closer in, I was very aware that he was fully erect once more. I put my camera down, and knelt down on the slab next to the young boy, my rock hard cock pressing firmly against his thigh as I adjusted my position to give Paul the best possible view. I leaned in, and slowly ran my hands over the soft cotton fabric covering Ewans' arse, enjoying the muscular warm feel of his flesh. I shifted my position again, to ease the pressure on my erection, and it slipped easily and naturally into the cleft between his legs.

'Later,' I heard Ewan whisper.

'Count on it,' I whispered back.

There was nothing further to be said, I resisted the temptation to have another grope of Ewans lovely bottom, and slipped my fingers under his waistband, pausing momentarily to give Paul a chance, then I slowly, almost reverentially pulled his white cotton y-fronts down. I heard Paul give a little intake of breath as I revealed Ewans butt, clad in a pair of very small, very tight, white cotton girls pants, plain but for a red trim round the waist and legs. He rolled over again, knees up; I pulled his pants clear, tossed them away, and all was revealed at last. The panties were being subjected to stresses that they had never been designed for; Ewans' long slim cock was barely able to be contained by the meagre covering. I, of course, had seen Ewan wearing girls' panties on a couple of memorable occasions before, but this was all new territory for Paul. I sneaked a look over my shoulder to see how he was reacting to this, I needn't have been concerned; he was holding the camera in one hand, and his stiff cock with the other, openly masturbating himself through the material of his pants. Meanwhile, back with Ewan, his pants were very extended now, as his cock had been freed from the limited confinement of his y-fronts, and I was able to get a shot of his cock and balls through the straining leg hole. His fingers were fluttering over the tip off his cock, now freely exuding pre-cum into the absorbent material. 'Go on, give it a tug, you know you need to,' I encouraged him.

'You're not wrong,' he gasped, 'but I won't be able to hang on for long if I do though.'

'Not to worry,' I said, moving in a bit closer to get a better angle, 'Paul's got you covered if I miss it.'

'Alright then,' he said, and flipped the flimsy cotton to one side, releasing his long slim cock. He took a firm hold, and began to wank, his foreskin sliding easily back over the well-lubricated purple glans. I was close enough in to get a shot just of his fist grasping his cock, and also, I discovered, for his other hand to slip up my thigh and grasp my throbbing erection. I lost all sense of time, as I struggled to maintain my professional decorum and continue to take pictures, whilst I was increasingly desperate for us both to come. I had completely forgotten about Paul by now, as I clicked away until I ran out of film. Putting my camera down, I now had two hands free, and gently clasped one of them over Ewans wanking fist, using the other to support myself as I balanced on my knees.

'Why don't you suck him?' came Pauls voice from behind me.

I didn't need any further encouragement, and leaned over, engulfing his hot, sticky and utterly delicious length into my willing mouth. As I tongued the sensitive tip, I felt his grip tighten on my cock, and I could feel him wriggling and thrusting against my mouth as he began to tip over that slippery precipice leading to orgasm. Seriously against my will, I slowly released his cock from my mouth, taking up my hold on his sodden shaft again, and ignoring his moans of protest. I could see from his flushed and sweaty face that he was very close to coming, and I wanted Paul to get the come shot.

Finally, when he came, great ropes and jets of spunk erupted from his cock, spraying over my chest and up into my face and hair; as his sticky juices trickled over my heaving stomach, they dribbled down onto my pants, mingling with the pre-cum that was already soaking the nylon fabric. The feeling of Ewans slippery hand confidently and lovingly continuing to work on my cock through the come-sodden material suddenly and violently tipped me over the edge. I almost blacked out with the violence of my orgasm; several gouts of spunk spraying from my cock and forcing their way through the skimpy material. I collapsed forwards on top of Ewan, my saturated crotch pressing into his, and we lay still for a moment, neither able to do more than breathe great shuddering breaths. As I gradually came back to reality, I could feel the sun beating down on my body, then, rather bizarrely I felt the soft splashes of summer rain on my back. Oh well, at least it's warm rain and we're all pretty much naked, I thought to myself, then I realised the incongruity of that idea, and craned my neck round to see what was going on.

Paul, because of course it was him, was standing bow-legged holding himself up with a small tree, and with the other hand was still pumping out the last few dribbles of jizz from his cock. His pants had descended around his ankles, and it was a tribute to the power of his orgasm that he had been able to sprinkle us with come from several feet away. 'I do hope you didn't miss the shot,' I said, severely, disentangling myself from Ewan and sitting up.

'Don't think so,' he said breathlessly.

'Come on then,' I said, collecting a sticky handful of our spunk off Ewan and my bodies, and indicating that he should approach. Pauls' cock was still dribbling a few last dollops of spunk, so I gently grabbed it, and scooped the dribbles into the palm of my other hand. I stirred the resulting cream with my finger, and leaning forward I anointed first Paul, then Ewans sweaty foreheads, before offering my hand so that Ewan could do the same for me.

Paul turned away, picked up his pants and used them to wipe his greasy cock, as he did so, Ewan crammed my sticky fingers into his mouth and greedily sucked the last bits of spunk off them, leaning forward to share the mouthful with me while Pauls back was turned. 'Come lovers too,' he whispered, a little drop of our mingled jizz escaping from the corner of his mouth.

'Yeah,' I agreed, lost with love and admiration for this beautiful and unpredictable boy, 'maybe we should all get cleaned up?'

Paul had already walked away; unusually silent for him, and leaving his sodden pants on the ground, a moment later we heard the splash as he dived into the millpond. 'Come on,' Ewan said, standing up, 'let's go and join him.'

'He might be a little confused,' I warned, 'sometimes he starts to think, and that isn't always a good thing.'

'I know,' Ewan said, briskly stripping his saturated panties off, 'I'll be gentle with him. We'd better rinse these out though, or they'll be ruined. Here, give me yours too.'

I was suddenly conscious that my genitals were beginning to get a bit chilly as the spunk dried on my pants, and I hastily pulled off my sodden slip and handed it to Ewan. 'I meant to ask you, where did those knickers come from? They're a great turn-on though; you could pull in those.'

'I nicked them off the clothes line at the lock-keepers cottage, stuffed them down my pants when I walked back, I thought they might turn you on.'

'They certainly did, and I think they did a lot for Paul too, you can wear those again.'

'Why thank you,' he grinned, 'I'll remember that and surprise you again some time.'

I picked up the cameras and Pauls pants from where he'd abandoned them, and followed Ewan out of the ruined building, pausing en-route to retrieve his y-fronts from the branch of a tree they had ended up in.

I don't know what I was expecting from Paul, but a cheery and unconcerned grin when he caught sight of our naked bodies approaching the pond, wasn't it. 'Come on in, the water's lovely,' he shouted to us from across the pool. We dumped our soggy clothing by the waters edge and both jumped in, using the fresh warm water and handfuls of soft sand to clean our bodies. 'Well, what did you think of that, young fella?' Paul asked, surfacing close by, 'bet you've never had an experience like it.'

I cringed mentally, but before I could say anything, Ewan chirped up; 'it was cool, I love having my picture taken, what did you think?'

'I used to think it was a bit queer, undressing and wanking with a bloke, but if you look at the porno mags you can see that geezers do it all the time, after all it's not like fucking, and all the girls reckon I'm a much hotter lover because of it.'

'You tell them what you've been getting up to?' Ewans' look of wide-eyed amazement was quite convincing to me.

'No, but I would if they asked and anyway I know why I'm better at it' Paul said defensively, 'what are we going to do now?'

'I don't know about you,' I chipped in, 'but I could murder a cup of tea and something to eat, breakfast feels like a very long time ago.'

'Tell you what,' Paul said, 'I'll head back to the boat, and put the kettle on if you two bring all the stuff back. It'll have to be sausage sarnies to eat though.' 'Sometimes there's nothing better than stuffing a hot sausage into your mouth,' I grinned.

'So I've seen,' Paul smiled back, climbing out of the pond, 'see you in a minute.' He stood on the stonework, looking down at us and towelling himself dry. I was amused and impressed that his shaven cock was still semi-hard; he had obviously been very turned on by the whole voyeur thing. I knew that he had found the occasions when we had put on a bit of a show for an unknown audience to be very stimulating; I did wonder where we were going to go from here. Paul pulled on his fancy new speedos again and wandered off towards the boat.

Ewan splashed over to me, and asked; 'is he ok?'

'I don't know, I think you might have been right earlier, when you said I'd turned him.'

'He's certainly very mellow, I'd never have thought he'd ask me to blow you, and he didn't seem to be bothered when you saw me handling his cock either.'

The boy threw his arms around me and pressed his wet and naked body up against mine; 'all the same I'd sooner you didn't fuck him, I want to feel you inside me soon, and wouldn't want your sperm to go to waste.'

'Don't fret, he's never going to let me go there, that'd be too much like having a relationship for him.'

'Cool,' he kissed me enthusiastically, 'that's ok then, I guess it's not so very different from having a wank after all.'

'I suppose we'd better head back,' I said, without much enthusiasm, 'or Paul will be wondering what we've been up to. Truth is, what I'd really like to do is cuddle up in the sunshine with you, and I can't see us getting that one past Pauls prejudices somehow; sex seems to be ok, but love and affection? no way!'

'Ah well,' Ewan said wisely, 'there's always tonight, we can cuddle up together then. Let's sort out the laundry, then we can go back and suck on a sausage.'

We quickly washed out the sperm saturated underwear in the clear water of the millpond, then we gathered up the rest of our stuff and stuffed it into the duffel bag. We both dressed in our speedos again, just as Paul had. When we lowered ourselves back onto the boat, the tea had been made and the comforting sound of frying sausages could be heard from below decks. There's nothing much to be said about the next few hours, we ate our food, and then Paul reversed the boat slowly out from under the willow, turned us round, and we headed back towards home.

'I thought we might as well stop at the same place tonight,' Paul shouted over the sound of the engine, 'at least we can get a shower in the morning.'

'Good idea,' I agreed, 'but no playing for forfeits, ok.'

'I suppose so,' Paul reluctantly agreed.

We meandered slowly along the canal, taking it in turn to sunbathe on the roof, all thoughts of modesty gone. We had moved from a slightly fascinated curiosity about each other's bodies, to an easy acceptance. There is nothing much to be said about our trip back, apart from attracting curious glances from other boating types as we basked in our swimmers, we sailed down to the waste station. The sun was starting to set when we finally moored up at the jetty, this time we were not alone, there was another boat moored up on the opposite side and its owners were busily clearing rubbish, filling with water and so on. They gave us a cheery wave and carried on with their tasks.

'Bugger,' Paul said, 'we'll have to keep it down, sound carries really well over water.'

'Do you think we can get that old radio to work?' Ewan asked, 'that might be the answer.'

'Yeah, it works, you just have to wiggle the wires a bit.'

Ewan fiddled with the radio, and eventually it crackled into life, back then there wasn't much of a choice; it was Radio One or Capital, and the latter was new and quite exciting as they broadcast for twenty-four hours a day. 'You're listening to "your mother wouldn't like it",' said the DJ and then spoiled it all by playing something by the Eagles. Never mind, there wasn't anything much else to listen to in those days; the musical explosion that was the punk scene was still just a dream in the minds of a few art students.

'Ok,' Paul asked, 'what are we going to have for supper?'

'I guess it'll have to be the chippie again,' I said, 'there's nothing much left to eat except for a few biscuits.'

'Come on then,' Ewan joined in, 'let's all go.'

'We'll need to put some more clothes on,' I added, 'we're heading back into the world after all.' We all went to our various cabins and pulled on shorts and t-shirts over our speedos.

The chippie wasn't very busy, but there was a queue, and we stood patiently in line waiting for our turn. Ewan stood close behind me, and I could feel the warmth of his body on the backs of my legs. We placed our order, and waited as it was wrapped in newspaper and bagged up for us.

We carried our booty back to the boat, Paul cleared his throat and asked; 'do you mind if we eat up on deck? It's just that my room will stink of chips if we eat below.'

'No, not a problem,' we chorused.

'Good,' he said, 'I'll go get the beers, if you two lay out the food.'

We spread out our feast on the roof, and when Paul re-emerged with a handful of beers, we got stuck into the food. For quite a while there was nothing much to be heard but chewing, slurping and from down below the burbling banality of the capital DJ.

Once we were finished, Paul let out a satisfied burp, patted his stomach and said; 'Right, I'm going to go and wash my hands, then I think it might be time for a game.'

'You're on,' Ewan said, 'but it's my turn to choose something.'

'Oh yeah, how come?' Paul answered, rather aggressively.

'Cause you're my slave, remember?'

'Oh yes, I'd forgotten. Is it ok if I go and get cleaned up?' he asked, with mock humility.

'Of course, we'll all go,' Ewan replied.

Paul set off for the washing block, we stayed behind to bundle up all the chip papers and rubbish before we set off after him. 'Hey,' Ewan hissed to me, 'just play along with me would you, I want to see how Paul reacts to slavery.'

'Ok, just don't push him too far,' I answered. We dumped the rubbish, then we all scrubbed up in the cheerless shower block before heading back to the boat.

'It's getting a bit nippy,' Paul said, 'shall we go below and crack a couple more beers?' We bundled down the steps and into the main cabin; Paul grabbed some beers from their locker, and plonked them on the table, 'Ok then,' he said, 'what shall we do?'

'Now, you have to remember that you're still my slave?' Ewan asked.

'Yes?' Paul looked worried.

'I've decided what I want us to do tonight.'

'Umm,' Paul gulped.

'Don't panic,' the boy grinned, 'I'm not telling you to do anything I wouldn't do myself.'

'and that's supposed to reassure me?'

'Don't be such a jessy, I just want you to play a game with us.'

'Is that all,' Paul visibly relaxed.

'and...' the boy continued.

'there's always an and,' he groaned, 'go on.'

'No pretences; we just have to wear our sexiest pants when we're playing it.'

Paul looked confused, 'what game did you have in mind?'

'The one you mentioned this morning, the digestive biscuit game.'

'Oh, right, now I get you,' Paul said, seemingly reassured.

'Eh?' I interjected, 'would someone care to explain.'

'Ewan here obviously knows what I was talking about,' Paul explained, 'it's very simple to play.'

'Go on,' I said.

'It's a wanking game,' Paul continued, 'the players all have a wank together, and when each one comes, they do it onto a digestive biscuit, the last one who comes has to eat the biscuit.

'Is that it?' I asked, 'doesn't seem like much of a game to me.'

'I don't know, it sounded sexy to me. I've always wanted to try it, since I read about it in a mag,' Ewan said, 'and since I've won myself a slave I thought it would be fun.'

'Ah well,' Paul said, 'I gave you my word, and I've always thought it would be a turn on too. How about you?' he asked me directly.

'I'm in,' I shrugged, 'nothing ventured, nothing gained.'

'Come on then, let's do it,' Ewan said, 'everybody go and get changed, and I'll get the biscuits out.'

We trouped down to our end of the boat, leaving Paul alone in the cabin, 'that was a bit cheeky,' I said, once we were out of his earshot.

'What do you mean?' my beautiful boy asked, a naughty smile on his red lips.

'Just as well Paul is the sort of character who can't refuse a dare.'

'Yeah, I know,' he grinned, 'shall we wear our g-strings?'

'Why not, although I think your stolen panties are really sexy.'

'Yeah, but they're soaking wet, and Paul has seen them before.'

'True, ok then.' We stripped naked, and I rootled in the pile of discarded clothes until I found my g-string, and then Ewans. 'Oh bum,' I said, waving a garment, 'here's Pauls' new string, I'd better give it to him.' I put on my semi- transparent white string, and went down to Pauls' end of the boat, 'here it is,' I announced, pushing into the cabin. Paul was standing there naked, his clothes strewn all around him.

'Oh, thanks,' he grinned, 'I wondered where it was.' He swiftly pulled on his new g-string; the rust coloured mesh fabric both enhanced and improved the look of his splendid package. 'How do I look?' he twirled round, thrusting his hips towards me; my cock jumped in my pants at the sight of him.

'Looking good,' I said, dry mouthed. Ewan pressed through the doors behind me, holding a plate with a couple of biscuits on it, and I saw his eyes widen when he caught his first sight of Paul. The reaction was mutual; as soon as Paul set eyes on Ewans pink g-string, its skimpy fabric already extended by the beginnings of his tumescence, there were definite stirring signs in his pants.

'Are we ready then?' the boy asked, putting his cargo down on the table.

'Yup,' Paul answered, 'how do we do this?'

'We all sit down on the bench then I'll lead us from there.'

'Shall I do something about the lights?' Paul asked. He had a point; the boat was mostly lit by fluorescent fittings, which gave a curious sterile light and an annoying high-pitched whistle. 'We're not allowed candles, but there are a couple of hurricane lamps.'

'Good idea,' I said, 'nothing like a bit of atmosphere.' Paul lit the hurricane lamps and we turned off the other lights, the yellow light of the paraffin lamps cast a golden glow on our skins, giving us all an almost mythical appearance. Ewan indicated that I should sit down in the middle, in between the two boys. Paul threw himself down and leaned back, the naked flesh of his bum making an obscene farting noise on the vinyl seat covering. Once we'd all stopped giggling, Ewan addressed me; 'right, it's your task to get us both turned on.'

'Oh, ok, that could be a bit of a mission,' I said, and settled back, taking care not to contribute to the silly noises. I stretched both my hands out, and softly made contact with their warm thighs. With my fingertips I traced a slow and subtle route up their supple limbs until I reached the point where the cords of the boys' strings transected their firm flesh.

Stealthily my fingers travelled along the cords until they encountered the soft fabric of their pouches, I dallied along the waistband, pausing for a moment or two to enjoy stroking the sensitive skin of their bellies. When I finally allowed my fingers to slide down over the silky fabric and to come to rest on both their cocks, I heard both boys take in a soft breath. I waited, relishing the sensation of touching their still only semi-hard cocks.

Eventually, after I had made them wait for as long as I thought I could get away with, I began to use the middle finger of each hand to perform a very slow circular stroking motion on their sensitive cock heads. The effect was pretty close to instantaneous, and I could feel their erections building up under my hands. My own cock had grown hard as soon as I started feeling the two boys, and my rigid column was holding the elastic fabric of my string away from my body. I became aware of a tentative hand exploring along the inside of my thigh and beginning to stroke my erection through the sheer material of my string, a minute later, and that hand was joined by one from the other side, slipping boldly in through the gaping leg hole to attack my balls directly.

Imagine the scene; three boys, naked but for minimal underwear, seated all in a row, the boy in the middle (yours truly) with a hand grasping the erect cocks of the boys on either side, and with both the other boys playing with mine, an altogether satisfying situation to be in. Once we'd established that we were all stiff, I moved things on a little, and slid my hands down under the waistband of each boys pants and took hold of their cocks directly.

The sensation of wanking the two boys simultaneously was enhanced by feeling of their hands skilfully doing the same for me, and I was conscious that I could so easily just come straight away. That they too were heading in the same direction was evident from their flushed faces. I didn't think this was quite right, after all, this was supposed to be a wanking competition, so, reluctantly I let go of their hot and sticky cocks and gently lifted their hands from my crotch. 'Ok,' I said, 'I think I've performed my duty, it's every man for himself from now on.'

'Yep,' said Paul, taking hold of his cock with easy familiarity.

'How about we tell each other stories?' Ewan suggested.

'What d'you mean?' Paul asked.

'Like, what's the sexiest thing that you've ever done, or had done to you? I'll start if you like?'

'Cool, why not,' Paul agreed, his hand in his pants sliding along the length of his erection.

Ewan leaned back into the corner, lifted one leg up onto the bench, flipped his g-string to one side and gripping his cock firmly began; 'One of the best things that ever happened to me, and I'll not mention any names, was going shopping on a bus.'

'That's crap,' Paul interrupted, 'we've all done that.'

'Ah, but did you get a blow job, and then get wanked off in the back seat?'

'No, on a bus!' Paul was wide-eyed and full of admiration.

'Yeah, it was the best thing ever, especially because there were some other people on the bus.'

'God, I remember getting felt up on the back seat of a minibus in the lakes,' Paul reminisced, as he pulled his pants to one side and took his cock out, 'I had such a huge stiffy when we got out, the teachers must have noticed.'

I was beginning to get a bit concerned, since both boys had referred to incidents involving me, ah well, not such a bad thing really, 'What was your best moment then Paul?' I asked.

'I don't know really, I've had so many, maybe when I fell in that muddy pond in the Lake District, I was dirty and cold, and after I'd been washed clean I had the most wonderful sex. What about you, what was your sexiest time?' he asked me.

I too uncovered my cock before I answered him; 'Hmm, maybe it was the first time I ever had someone modelling for me, the knowledge that I was uncovering someone who was getting very turned on by showing off his body for the first time did a lot for me.'

We all wanked steadily along as we told our stories, I think this might have been the first time that Paul had ever expressed a view that our sex play might have meant a little more to him than the sort of casual wanking exercise that he'd always claimed it was. I looked around me, and suddenly decided that perhaps this wasn't such a bad situation, Paul might have some weird ideas about our relationship, but he'd come a long way from the sexist homophobe that he still professed to be. Granted he hadn't ever touched any other boy sexually, but he'd got pretty close to it with Ewan, and he was evidently very turned on by my intimacy with my lover.

My musings were interrupted by Paul, 'I think I'm nearly there,' he grunted, and in the lamplight it was hard to tell, but his erect column was very hard and red in his hand. I passed the plate over to his end of the bench, and he leaned forward pointing his cock at the unsuspecting biscuits. I had watched Paul come on many occasions, but this was in many ways special, both Ewan and I gazed in fascination as fierce jets of spunk sprayed from his dick and splashed over the digestives. The flow stopped as abruptly as it had started, and, shaking the last few drops off, Paul slumped back, not bothering to tuck his hardness away. I picked the plate up, and put it between the two of us, 'ok, come on, it's our race now.' I don't know about Ewan, but I had found the whole game quite a turn-on, and I was very near to coming. I looked across at the younger boy and he was looking pretty close too, his long and slender cock hot and heavy in his hand. We both aimed our dicks at the plate, and whilst watching each other's faces, we speeded up our wanking. With an inevitability that was almost poetic we both came together, the ropes and gobbets of our jizz spraying onto the biscuits and mingling together. For me it wasn't a shattering orgasm like the one I had experienced earlier that day, but it was very satisfying and I always felt good when we came together. We squeezed the last few drops of spunk onto the plate, and then sat back, our wet cocks cooling in the air.

'Right,' Paul said smugly, 'I guess I won that one.'

'One day you will realise that coming first isn't always the best,' I replied tartly, 'so, you were watching, who do you think came last?'

'I dunno,' he shrugged, 'looked like a dead heat to me.'

'That's what I thought,' Ewan chimed in, 'we'll just have to share.' He picked up the plate; the biscuits were swimming in our mingled spunk, and scooped as much of our jizz onto one of the digestives as he could. He lifted the biscuit and offered it to me, I carefully bit half of it, and he equally gravely engulfed his half. The salty flavour of our sperm mixed surprisingly well with that of the sweet biscuit, although I can see that it might only have a limited appeal.

Paul looked on with a mixture of horror and admiration as Ewan scooped up the last few dribbles of our come and licked it off his fingers; 'you like that don't you?'

'Mmm,' Ewan replied, sucking on his fingers, 'I could eat it all day.'

'I doubt you'll get a better opportunity than you've had here,' I added.

'True, perhaps we should try and do this again?' Ewan asked.

'Maybe, if the pants people like our pics, we can do another modelling session,' Paul said.

'I'd like that,' the younger boy said, smiling.

Paul yawned prodigiously, and said; 'I don't know about you guys, but I'm about ready for my bed, I'll just finish my beer and then I'll hit the sack.' 'Yeah,' I agreed, 'let's get to bed.' Ewan and I stood up, tucking our somewhat diminished cocks back into our pants, I grabbed our the half-empty beer bottles and Ewan picked up the plate, 'Goodnight then,' I said, 'see you in the morning.'

'Yeah, goodnight,' he said.

We walked along the boat, leaving the plate in the galley en-route; 'I'm not quite ready to sleep yet,' I said, 'shall we go and sit on the front of the boat while we finish our beers?'

'Yes let's,' Ewan smiled, holding out his hand to me. We went through to the prow of the boat, where we perched side by side on the side of the boat; the metal no longer heated by the sun was cold on the naked flesh of our butts. I put my arm round his shoulder, he leaned against my body, and in a companionable silence disturbed only by the distant sound of the radio, we sucked on our beers. The towpath was as deserted as ever, the other boat was silent and dark, people tend to go to bed quite early on the canals. We sat still, looking up at the stars in a sky unpolluted by street lighting. After a little while, the silence was punctuated by the appearance of the elderly dog that we had seen the night before, a couple of minutes later it's owners ambled past, we wished them a cheery good evening as they clocked us. What they made of two cuddling boys, naked but for rather stained and crumpled g-strings I have no idea, it's quite possible they didn't notice, the moon was behind the trees and the lamp on the road bridge seemed to contribute to the gloom.

We watched them make their way along the towpath, back to the cottage; 'I wonder if those were her knickers?' I mused as they disappeared from view.

'Nah, she was way too old,' Ewan spluttered, 'anyway, I think we should get to bed, and I'm not standing for any nonsense about separate beds after what we did today.'

'No, that's cool, although I still don't think Paul realises that we are lovers.' We went below, and snuggled together in my sleeping bag, it was a matter of seconds before I heard the even sound of Ewans soft breathing, and I realised that he was already fast asleep. I hugged him gently, and kissed the back of his neck, he didn't stir. I fell asleep replaying the events of the day in my mind, it had certainly been eventful and left me plenty to think about. We had one more morning on the boat, and then it would be back to the humdrum reality of school. Ah well, best to seize the moment I suppose.

To be continued...